The Storm | Regulus Black

The Christmas of 1977

May Yuletide joys be ever thine.
Thy holidays most merry.
The New Year prove to be as bright as the red holly berry.

The dark, oppressive Burke Manor was not a place to call home-sweet-home. It wasn't just the interior that was dark, it was the mere feeling of being inside it. Constantly paranoid of being watched by something that didn't even exist. The punishing silence in the house made one's breathing sound like it was at 200 decibels, sometimes one would hear a ringing in one's ears. The portraits of ancestors watched, intrigued as one walked by and the sound of one's shoes clicking against the floor made one want to amputate one's legs. The darkness of the walls and floor, plagued by absence of light sometimes made one hallucinate. The sound of voices echoed throughout the extravagant manor. All in all, the Burke Manor made one go insane.

It was, in spite of all the maddening aspects, a beautiful manor house. As soon as one stepped in through the large front door, a majestic crystal chandelier was one of the first things one would see. This, at first glance, proved the wealthiness of the residing family. The chandelier could only fit into the already tall walled house since the landing was double heighted, due to a part of the second storey being occupied by a mezzanine floor from which you could see the foyer. After taking a right and walking through an archway one would be met with something that looked like a waiting room–a round coffee table was placed in the middle of it and there were four futons around it, the walls were covered in portraits of family members and paintings of the pure-blood balls and galas. Speaking of balls, there was another door in the waiting room, from which one would come into a majestically large ballroom. There were two crystal chandeliers and the walls were a shade of dark green with delicate, dainty details of gold. The dining room was also ridiculously large, the walls were, again, covered with paintings and there were two chandeliers hanging above the long dining table which fit 25 persons. There was also a smaller library and a sitting room on the first floor.

There were three storeys in the home; the first was used for events, dinners and relaxation in the sitting room–relaxation, that is, with ridiculously good posture and everyone judging you. The second storey had a music room, Mr. Burke's office, a room dedicated to the large family tree, the master suite in which Mr. and Mrs. Burke spent their time, a larger library, a meeting room and a few guest rooms. The third storey was a smaller floor–not actually small, just compared to the rest of the house–in which Caractarus and Agatha's bedrooms were–as far away from each other as possible, and a few guest rooms. Then there was the basement, where their house elf slept, there was a large kitchen and a dungeon there as well, and a smaller library which was, unlike the rest of the house, messy and filled with books about the dark arts.

The only thing Agatha was seriously excited about when it came to Christmas was the mounts of gifts she would be on the receiving end of. She was also partly excited for the New Year's and Christmas balls she was to attend.

It was now the 23rd of December and she had been home for one day. She had not even properly seen her father, only bidding him hello when he had come home from work, she had slept late, therefore when she woke up he was already gone.

Agatha was sat on her bed, back leaning against the soft headboard as she read a book; 'Mr. Hawter and his Lovely Bride'. It told a tale about a man who had been married off to a woman whom he at first liked and grew to love. After some time she became a nuisance, a vermin in his reality.

"Agatha!" shouted a shrill, sharp, cold voice.

The girl in question rolled her eyes and sighed. She put down the book she was reading on her bed and got up, smoothed down her shirt and walked out of her room.

The hallways of the Burke manor were dimly lit with torches on the dark tapestried walls. She assumed her mother was in the sitting room so she walked down two flights of the grand marble stairs and took a right. Agatha was suddenly freezing, the manor was cold.