Confessions of a Guilty Schoolboy

Confessions of a Guilty Schoolboy

When ensnared under your own thick passions of darkness, your heart is distilled in its own madness. The wisdom, the hope, the innocence that once guided you, becomes shattered under the blink of an eye, and an invisible Devil possesses you fully. I was a shadow, a puppet, a fool. From my days rotting in Azkaban, my days of sun-freedom, elation and joy: I have kept a dark secret from my own consciousness. A rhythm runs like fine melodic beats as sweet as the summer's breeze through my pulse and every breath. It is here that I plan to repeat them. It is here that I will rewrite the song that has marred my life.

Reader, before I begin my story, have no doubts in your head that no memory, thought or dream was worse than the discovery of my best friend's death and unforgivable betrayal. Nothing has thorned me quite so terribly as the cool October night that sealed my friends' fates, and yet, as I grieved in Azkaban, there was one memory which I yearned to bury above all.

It was a hot, sultry summer: the sort that crawled into your veins and left you feeling dank and sleepy. It was the day that I met her. I had packed a heavy oak trunk of my basic equipment, mainly books and a few herbs that I was told would be useful for potions. As I crept upon the drive, the sun pierced me violently with her needle gaze, and I knocked on the apprehensively.

The door opened by itself, but on closer inspection a miserable face boy peered out at me from behind. His midnight hair streamed down his shoulders, his ivory black eyes were screwed angrily and his overall appearance was unpleasant.

"Who are you?" dripped a cool, crisp voice.

"I'm Black. Sirius Black. I'm here for the preparation of young wizards?" I smiled broadly, but the boy blinked back unpleasantly. It was as if I had insulted him.

He led me into the large lounge. The windows were shuttered closed and the gold, beaming sunshine burst through the blinds like daggers. I wondered why they kept them shut. All around, there was darkness. It lay heavily upon the tone and in all the sweaty heat of the honeycomb day there was ghostly chill that lustrated through the room. The boy disappeared and I was left to stand listless and alone.

"Ah... Who do we have here..?" a musical voice chimed.

An elegant woman with pearl white teeth and viper eyes entered, wearing a scent of luxury I couldn't quite place. Her dark, long hair was knotted behind her head and she was wearing a beautiful, sleek dress of mulberry taffeta that caressed her smoothly, shaped calves. I was left speechless. She laughed a sweet, shimmering laugh that resounded through the whole of the room. I at once felt ashamed. The sweat that clotted my clothes to my skin suddenly became apparent and my hair, which although clean, felt thick and limp. I hid the dirt of my palms under the long robe sleeves and avoided her eye.

"I see you have met my nephew, Severus...He is a shy child but do not be afraid of him. He is not used to other children his age."

She had called me a child and I could feel the heat crawl up the back of my neck. There was something unnatural about the way she held herself. It was too composed, too formal and I could smell the iron beating of her pulse beneath her delicate skin. It compelled me hypnotically and at once I begun to stutter.

"D-don't worry, Miss- Madame--He's been all right...I-I'm Sirius Black. Sirius Black from Coleridge Manor."

"I am Madame Satis and you may address me as so."

She flicked out her wand and levitated my trunk off the ground. I trailed its journey with my eyes as it bobbed up and down in mid-air and disappeared up the spiral staircase.

"Sit down, Master Black..."

I sat down in a large satin arm chair by the window. She collected herself on a sofa opposite, her eyes lining my every move. Her eyes were made of black fires; it was the eye of a tigress, a serpent, some creature that was other than human.

"Since you will be staying here in the next month or so, I feel it is my duty to tell you what you are in for. You will rise everyday at 6 AM and go to bed at 9PM. We will be learning the basics of several subjects, including what you may consider 'muggle topics' such as arithmetic and literature. Practical lessons will include making simple potions and if you are good, I might even let you fly a broomstick."

My chest heaved with excitement. The prospect of starting Hogwarts with flying experience already was immense.

"Is that all right with you?"

"It sounds brilliant!" I said, trying to sound optimistic, despite my thudding heart. "I-Is that all?"

Madame smiled enigmatically, "Pretty much. But I would like to know a few things about you. What is it that you want to be?"

"I want to be an auror. Just like my parents. I want to help people, you know, save them from evil things like vampires and werewolves. I want to catch criminals and send them to the dementors. Whatever I do, I want to be a hero!"

"This wild-eyed dream of yours will never be. A little dreamer as you will know the brutality of the world soon...Mon Cher, the world is made dragons and fools... I wonder what you are."

"An Angel."

The wicked woman laughed a shuddering cruel, laugh which resounded through the whole of the room. Her vibrant red tongue curled over her sweet fiery lips and her eyes lit up with a passionate delight. "Impossible. Do you believe in the heavens and the gods..? Do you believe in the darkness, my bright star..? The Devil? Mon Cher, your smile is made of black, your heart is made of oil, and your eyes are made of midnight. What a sight you are, my sooty beast! My charcoal brat! My onyx Prince... What a sight you are!

"You have come here to learn? Mon Cher...I will teach you. I will teach you a bliss so soothing and poisonous that you would rather die than part with it... Torment shall be your Master and life shall be your downfall...Forget the past. While you are with me, you must sacrifice yourself to me... Mon petit papillon, are you a coward or knight?

My chest burned with pride, as visions of Godric Gryffindor, St. George, King Arthur flashed across my mind. "A knight, of course!"

The salacious woman smiled, curling a strand of hair from her face, "It wouldn't have mattered either way."

I was baffled to reply with anything other than a short protestation of confusion. Such words were completely unexpected. I felt humiliated without even knowing why. Bowing my head to face a carved pewter serpent by the foot of the fire, I stared and tried to avoid her intense gaze. I was being spineless and I knew it.

"Now! You will be led to your room by Severus and be given a tour of the Manor. You will then commence your first introductory lesson with me. Understand? Now go!"

I nodded and softly dropped to my feet.

"And another thing... Look me in the eyes when I am addressing you. I don't need cowards in my academy."

At this she grabbed my cheek with a long, pale hand and smiled as she saw fear struck into them. Her black eyes were shrewd and calculating, different from the rest of her face which was carved to perfection. I shuddered.

"You are a beautiful child..." she purred happily. "A beautiful, beautiful child...I love beauty, natural beauty and you have that. I have never seen a child with a pale-moon skin as soft as yours. Yet you are showing signs of becoming a man a time in which you will become even more handsome..."

I swallowed. I didn't like being scrutinised like this but my parents had told me to be polite, so I didn't interrupt her.

Suddenly she struck me across the face with the nails of her hand as she brought blood streaming to the surface. My eyes were stinging with tears as I touched my cheek and staggered backwards. The wound felt more like a burn. Her touch was made of fire.

"Yes... Blood does look as pretty on your skin as I'd hoped. So beautiful...Now come here..."

After this, I was refused to move at first. Yet that compelling darkness in the souls of her eyes bade me forewords.

"What do you want, Madame?"

"Oh, don't be frightened now, Child! I just want to heal your wounds...Can't let my nephew see you with that large scrape across your cheek can we now?"

I shook my head.

She turned my cheek to her face and examined my wound. I felt a wet, warm sensation as she licked away at it like a lioness to her cub. I shut my eyes and felt a strange tingling sensation envelope me.

She thrust me away and kissed my cheek like a mother. "Now get on with you!"

I warbled out of the room more baffled than I had been in my life. All I knew, as I glanced into the glass of a cabinet was that there was no scar on my cheek but dried blood on my fingers.

***

To be continued...