Neglect

She bit and bit, until she drew blood. More blood. Blood. Blood. Bugs. Corpses sprawled on the floor, all their insides out. Dripping. Flies flying around and sitting on them.  

But those corpses consisted of one person. A woman. Her stomach cut up and organs leaking, her mouth forming a scream she could never let escape her lungs. Her eyes were bloodshot and empty, her face smeared with blood. Her pupils were dilated. Worms have made their way to eat the remaining flesh of her. 

The remaining blood has started to run out of her mouth and nose, her body growing from a green tint to a red, as the blood decomposed. 

Yet, the child wasn’t scared, or disturbed. A sense of familiarity filled it. The woman was familiar. Something warm about her, even though her body was cold and lifeless.  

That was the first time that she ever dreamt of her mother.  

Normal kids would scream, cry – and be in absolute horror. Yet, she wasn’t. She was fascinated by it. By the way, the human body works after death. She wasn’t interested in the prospects of it during life. She was interested in the mere opposite – the prospects of it during and after death.  

It was the first time she’d told her father about a dream. But it ended up with a slap against her cheek. “Never talk about your mother in that way.” He had snarled and left the child alone, in the cold room. 

At that moment she realised that there was something deeply wrong with her. 

To make up for the disturbance she caused her father, she decided to make a Father’s Day card for him, as it was coming up. She never made cards, but she decided to make one. 

She cut out a heart out of red paper she found. She wrote “For Dad!” on the outside of it. She never used anything other than “dad”. Well, when she was little, she used to say “dada”, but she grew up, and stopped using it. 

Maybe that was her problem. Growing up too fast. 

On the inside, she drew herself and her father holding hands and smiling. “Happy Father’s Day!” The card read, and on the bottom was a small “Madeline, 1982. June 20th.”  

She crept into her father’s room. She walked over to his desk and tapped his leg. “Happy Father’s Day!” She said, carefully placing the card on his table. Before he could say anything, she went out of his room and closed the door. 

Looking at the card, he sighed and opened it. He smiled a little at the drawing. He put it on next to a rather small album of photos. Inside were photos of her, as a baby up to 3 years old. There weren’t many photos and those which were there were mostly taken by Sirius. 

“I wonder how’s he doing.” Severus thought as he began grading some essays of his students. He didn’t sleep in the castle as did the other Professors. He apparated home. Through the day he left her with Remus or took her to work with him. 

Everyone at the castle was fond of the small child managing to soften the cold potions professor. 

Yet, Sirius was the only one who worried, deep in Azkaban. “What if he does something to her?” He thought, listening to the painful howls directed at the moon, which was full, hoping that it was not Remus.  

“If we weren’t here dear cousin, I wouldn’t feel so sorry for you.” Sirius could hear Bellatrix say from behind the bars, that connected their sells. Bellatrix – as Sirius figured out (or at least hoped) - was here because of her family. She hoped to protect Cissy, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, Andromeda, from the Dark Lord. So, she tried to become one of the most faithful followers (servants, as he thought), so he would not hurt her family. But it didn’t occur to her that she’d end up in Azkaban. 

“What do you mean, Bella?” Sighed Sirius, looking at her deep, dark eyes, which held a drop of sympathy for him, even if her words were somewhat sarcastic. 

“Not easy to hear your beloved’s howls, is it?” She asked, to which she got no audible reply, just a head turn away from here. 

“You know, I quite like Lupin. Even despite his problem.” She said, making Sirius look at her surprised. “You do?” He asked. 

“I like him more than Severus with Aubrey.” She was quiet for a little, looking at the moon. “Was their daughter called Madeline?” She asked, her voice sorrowful. Sirius let out a pained sigh. “Yes... Her middle name is Bella.” That made Bellatrix surprised. “Oh, is it?” He nodded. Her eyes teared up. “He never let me visit her.” She whispered. 

“I barely got in the house,” Sirius said, placing his hand through the bars on his cousin’s.  

She gave him a thankful look. 

Maybe this would be the future for the two cousins if one wouldn’t go crazy through the years spent in the cell.  

It was good until it lasted and became a hollow memory.