Julie Stone was a regular girl; she lived in an orphanage, had some friends, and every now and then would bang her head against the wall due to stress. . . . Normal!
Anyway, all her life Julie never seemed to quite fit in. She loved it, but her life...
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𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔, 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔, 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔
────── *•. ⚡︎ .•*──────
With a snap, the man in the shadows closed the door behind them.
A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin. It was Sirius Black. And Hermione couldn't roll her eyes anymore or they'd get stuck.
"Expelliarmus!" Sirius croaked, pointing Ron's wand at them.
Harry's and Hermione's wands shot out of their hands, high in the air, and Black caught them. Then he took a step closer. His eyes were fixed on Harry.
"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said hoarsely.
His voice sounded as though he had long since lost the habit of using it. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful. . . . it will make everything much easier. . . ."
Harry tried to line at him but Ron and Hermione caught him before he'd make a fool of himself; Ron, however, spoke to Black.
"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" he said fiercely, though the effort of standing upright was draining him of still more color, and he swayed slightly as he spoke.
Something flickered in Black's shadowed eyes.
"Lie down," he said quietly to Ron. "You will damage that leg even more."
"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, though he was clinging painfully to Harry to stay upright. "You'll have to kill all three of us!"
"There'll be only one murder here tonight," said Black, and his grin widened.
"Why's that?" Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free of Ron, and Hermione. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew. . . . What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"
"Come on," Hermione groaned. "Quit the dramatics!"
"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared, and with a huge effort, he broke free of Hermione's and Ron's restraint and lunged forward—
Perhaps it was the shock of Harry doing something so stupid, but Black didn't raise the wands in time—one of Harry's hands fastened over his wasted wrist, forcing the wand tips away; the knuckles of Harry's other hand collided with the side of Black's head and they fell, backward, into the wall—
