Ashes and Dust

Chapter four - Horrible Memories

It was Raven.

"Raven?"

The woman on the floor didn't look up and he thought for a moment that he had been mistaken, but then the woman got to her feet.

"Yeah, it's me."

The curtain of hair still covered her face and he became suspicious. Why was she acting this way when she had been so open with him earlier? Something must be wrong, he thought, desperately trying to control the sudden anger that flared inside him for no reason that he could think of.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, sounding harsher than he had intended.

"Nothing."

The response came almost too quickly. She was still hiding her face with her long hair. He sighed. It was rather obvious to him what was wrong.

"What did he do to you, Raven?" The question was very quiet, but she reacted as if he had yelled it and her. Her head snapped up and she stared at him pitifully with her breathtakingly blue eyes. He gasped.

Her eyes were blackened, not by makeup, but by bruises and they were swollen from both the force of the impact of a fist and from crying. Her face was so badly bruised he could barely recognize her. Her cheeks were tear-streaked and her lips were bloodied and swollen. Her nose was bleeding, bright red blood slowly running down her pretty face, mingling with the tears. Numerous cuts added to the flow so that her face was covered in a wash of red.

His eyes traveled from her face to her neck where bruises in the shape of a man's hands stood out like a wolf among sheep on her pale skin. She was holding herself gingerly, indication broken ribs and she was clutching her left wrist. And as she stood, beaten and broken, he remembered.

"It's the same man, this Jonis, isn't it, Raven?" he asked softly, forcing himself to look into her pained eyes. "He's done this before, right?" He paused. "Answer me!"

Raven nodded and his rage doubled. He was forced to clench his empty hand so hard his nails dug into his palms so that he wouldn't beat it against the wall and scare her. That was the last thing he wanted. She had already been reduced to a shivering pile of nerves from the beating she had received.

She started shaking silently, sobbing without making a sound. Her knees buckled and she sank to the floor, burying her face in the crook of her arm. Something broke down inside him and he suddenly couldn't bear to see her suffer alone any longer.

She needs to be comforted, you inconsiderate bastard, not interrogated!

Shaking himself mentally, he set down the candle on a side table and in one stride he was at her side, picking her off the ground, taking her unto his arms, patting her on the head, rubbing her back as she collapsed against him and sobbed into his chest. For a moment, he forgot how he felt toward her and thought solely about how that bastard had hurt her. He cooed to her quietly, assuring her it would be alright, and that Jonis would never touch her again.

Finally hearing the two people in the living room, the old healing woman ventured into the hall and walked slowly down the passage toward the living room. Who the hell was up at this time in the morning? The first thing she saw when she entered the light cast around the room by the single candle on one of the side tables was her patient holding her granddaughter. This in itself was surprising enough, considering the way her granddaughter usually acted around men (as if she didn't need them), then she noticed the bruises on Raven's neck and the shaking of her body as the sobs raked through her. She quickly felt the urge to shout at the young man for taking his anger out on a poor, defenceless woman, but she just as quickly realized that this couldn't be right. Why would he be comforting her if he had hurt her? Her second impulse was,

"Jonis."

The young man looked up and saw the old woman standing just inside the circle of light cast by the candle, partially in the shadows of the hall, but he didn't let Raven go. He didn't feel like letting her go just yet. She was clinging to him as if her very life depended on it. He wasn't even sure if she had heard her grandmother through her crying. He tightened his arms around her, and buried his face in her hair.

"Raven, daho tyi," the old woman said, holding out her hands for the girl.

Raven turned to her, but didn't let go of the young man holding her in his arms. She looked up at him and rested her head against his bare chest. He could see the appreciation in her blue eyes as he lifted a hand and tenderly wiped away her tears with his thumb. She closed her eyes and he pushed her gently toward her grandmother. It was time to let her go.

Breathing deeply, she walked slowly toward the old healer, who took her by the elbow and lead her into the kitchen. Taking a deep breath to control his anger at her attacker, Sirius walked into the kitchen after them.

The healer had lit four candles and they stood in a group in the center of the table, casting flickering light onto the walls, making the shadows dance. A bowl of water stood next to the candles and the healer was dipping a cloth into the depths of the mirror. Raven was sitting facing the old woman with a grimace on her face, no longer crying, as the wet cloth touched her bruised features. Looking into her eyes, he could see something burning there... something alive - something angry.

Glad that the anger wasn't directed at him, he sat down, trying not to interrupt the ritual. He definitely wasn't getting back to sleep that night.

Sometime around seven later on that morning, he lay on his back staring at the ceiling as he had been doing since the old woman had chased him to bed at last - around three in the morning. He had been very reluctant to leave Raven, partially healed by the old woman, the bruises not quite as dark as they had been an hour before, but the healer had been very adamant as she yammered at him and her intent was very clear. He thought he was slowly beginning to understand her, because she didn't have to point for him to get what she was telling him (or well barking at him was more accurate, but that was beside the point). Again, more progress.

The dawn had, well... dawned bright and warm, but inside his prison, he shivered from a chill that had haunted him for an entire year... ever since he had awoken for the first time in this bed. He longed for the sunlight as he held up an arm in front of his eyes to examine his white skin. Looking back up at the ceiling, his eyes strayed to the skylight that was always covered by a black cloth, like so many other windows in the house, to block out the light. Then an idea hit him. Why couldn't he have some fresh air? The healer need never know, and what she didn't know couldn't hurt him, could it? He felt fine that morning, not like the morning before, and he attributed this to his - uh - marvellous cooking. He snorted. Well, it wasn't marvellous, per se, but it was a damn bit better than that healer's poison. Sitting up and getting to his feet, Sirius pulled the chest of drawers from the wall and placed it under the skylight. He climbed on top of it, pushed the skylight open, and hoisted himself up.

The roof faced the back of the house, toward the wood. The warm sun felt like heaven on his white, chilled flesh. Closing his eyes and facing the sun, he finally felt at peace with himself and with the habitants of the house under his feet. He could finally forget about the pain and illness captured within the walls of the healer's home. He could finally rest properly knowing that he was away from the bleak faces of the patients, lying on beds of white linen. He could finally move on... or so he thought, anyway.

He lay down on the roof, the slates warm from the sun's touch, deciding to stay above his prison rather than in it. There was never any sunlight anywhere in the house, except in his room where the meagre light came through his window when the curtains were open, but his window face north toward the forest, and no rays of sunlight penetrated into his cell.

Lying up on the roof, feeling an inner peace he had not felt before (or for a very long time anyway), he realized that he actually starting to wonder about himself and where he had come from.

Well, said the little voice in his head. When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much...

At least he still had a sense of humour, even if he had lost his memory. A grin spread across his face as he thought about this. Did he actually have parents? Were they still alive? Were they worrying about him, wondering where he was? However, at these thoughts, an uneasy feeling grew in the pit of his stomach and he felt sudden resentment at the thought of parents.

Why?

He sighed. Had anyone noticed that he wasn't where he was supposed to be? Hadn't someone realized that he was missing, that he had disappeared, and had gone looking for him? Would anyone ever find him? Was anyone even missing him? Or was he just an insignificant pawn in the game of life?

He forced out another sigh. This life he was leading at the moment was certainly not making any difference to anyone's life (strangely, this bothered him more than it should have), except maybe the healer's because she had been forced to take care of him when he had been sick... and then there was Raven...

It was strange, but every time he looked at her, he couldn't help feel... he couldn't really explain it. She was cynical and sarcastic, and distant and cold... Still there was something soft in her voice when she spoke to him. Maybe she was just feeling sorry for him. Not that he knew her very well or for very long, he was sure that she... well, at least she didn't hate him. He felt that they had been close when he had been well, in his past. Very close. Or maybe he only hoped they had been. He sighed yet again. If only he could remember...

As if she could sense him thinking about her, Raven stuck her head through the skylight and into the freshness of the open air. She saw the young man lying on his back, soaking in the brilliant sun's rays, a look of pure contentment on his young face, and smiled. He was just as she remembered him to be... and wasn't exactly. She pulled herself out of the window without a sound and sat next to him. He never stirred and never heard her; he was too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice anything that happened around him.

Though his cheeks were hollow and he had a deathly pallor to his skin, though his eyes were sunken in and he was skinny as a rake, she still felt something for him. Though his once stunning good looks were a thing of the past and though he couldn't remember who she really was, she was still hopelessly in love with him. She reached out to touch his face, but thought better of it at the last second. Was he really all that different? Could he have changed as much inside as he had on the outside? It wasn't what she had felt the day before, but then what did she know? She hadn't been around him for an entire year... the last time she had seen him was just after she had brought him here. She had left him and gone back to Jonis, the drunken bastard. She turned away from the young man and took in the myriad of trees in front of her. Had her choice been the right one?

He sighed beside her and her attention snapped back to his face. He still hadn't opened his eyes and noticed her presence. He looked so vulnerable, lying there in his pyjama pants. In his white pyjama pants. Raven shook her head. What had her grandmother been thinking when she had bought white gowns and linens for her healing practice? Raven grinned, suppressing a sigh and turned her face to the sun. He hadn't always been so vulnerable looking.

Is that why you abandoned him here?

The voice was cutting as it disrupted her conscious thoughts. She hadn't really abandoned him... had she? After all, she had come back; she had just had to come back. Raven mentally shook herself.

No. Abandon isn't the word.

Feeling someone looking at him at last, he opened his eyes. A figure sat beside him, the bright sunlight reflecting off the pale skin, making it glow. His first impression was that an angel had decided to float down and sit beside him, an angel without wings... but then he realized: it was Raven.

Her bruises were gone and she looked like she had the day before: very attractive. He smiled; he was glad she was alright.

"How long have you been looking at me?" he asked, closing his eyes contentedly again, stretching his warm muscles.

"A few minutes... why?"

He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"You could have told me you were there. What if you had sneezed and given me a heart attack?"

Raven laughed; at least his sense of humour was still there, same as always.

"Raven Storme..." He let the words slide off his tongue. Raven shivered as he said her name.

Scary.

"Unique name, that."

Raven raised an eyebrow at him, but his eyes were closed again and he didn't see.

"No more unique than your name."

His eyes snapped open and he stared above him at a cloud just above where they sat. His face was pained.

"You don't remember anything do you?"

He kept looking up into the blue infinity that was the sky. He didn't remember, did he? He took another look at the woman beside him thoughtfully. Slowly, he shook his head.

"Lily and James, you goddamned bastard!" she screamed at him. Her eyes were brimming with sudden tears. "How could you have forgotten?"

His jaw dropped. Images flooded through his mind, flashing across his eyes life photos. He was eleven and was sitting with three other boys on the Hogwarts Express on his way to his first year of school... He was eighteen and was shaking Dumbledore's hand, accepting a role of parchment with the purple seal of Hogwarts keeping it shut in wax... He was twenty, and was looking at his distraught best friend pace up and down as he awaited the birth of James' first child... He was twenty-one and was standing by the ruins of the Potter's house in Goddric's Hollow, tears streaming down his face as he watched the giant form of Hagrid walk toward him, stepping carefully over the bodies of Lily and James... He was thirty-four and he was swimming away from Azkaban in the form of a dog... He was thirty-six and was looking at his cousin Bellatrix laughing at him as he fell backward... backward through a billowing, black veil...

He stared at Raven, not really seeing her at all. Then, coming to his senses and harshly back to reality, he remembered everything.

Sirius Black turned to face Raven fully and taking her hands in his, said,

"I have to go back."

Raven just nodded, tears streaming freely now, and said, "I know, but the potion is going to taste awful. Come, it's ready."