Post by Crystal on Sept 1, 2011 12:54:17 GMT -8
Title: Childhood
Rating: R
Character: Gilderoy Lockhart
Word Count: 432
Warnings: physical and mental abuse
Summary: Lockhart’s childhood. Because nobody can be that annoying without a reason.
Gilderoy tightly clutched the railing as he slowly made his way down the stairs. The stairwell was dark; the only light that could be seen in the house was emanating from the kitchen below.
Tripping over a wrinkle in the carpet, Gilderoy tightened his grip on the railing, desperately trying to catch himself from falling down. His stomach clenched and his face flushed as he regained his balance; his stumble was nearly soundless, and he quickly sent a silent prayer of thanks.
“Honestly, how that boy ever made the quidditch team, I’ll never know,” his mother huffed from the kitchen. “He has less coordination than a one-legged troll.”
So they had heard him.
Taking a deep breath, the boy quickly descended the rest of the stairs; he wiped his eyes carefully before he joined his parents in the kitchen.
“I thought he wasn’t coming back until the summer,” his father said, sitting at the table.
Gilderoy sat next to his father and quickly clasped his hands together in his lap. Keeping his eyes focused on his own hands, he saw movement in his peripheral vision as his mother guided Christmas dinner to the table with her wand.
“It wouldn’t be so bothersome if the boy showed some sort of promise,” she replied.
Gilderoy sneaked a peak at the table. Yes, there was a full plate before him. They did know he was there; he dropped his gaze quickly, debating on whether he should draw attention to himself.
He tried to speak, but his voice was hoarse; he hadn’t said a word since he bid his friends farewell at King’s Cross. He took a drink of water and cleared his throat again. “Professor Flitwick says I have an aptitude with memory charms,” he said. “I was-”
He was cut off by a sharp stinging across his cheek. “Stop your nonsense,” his mother snarled, wiping her hand along her apron. She sat at the table, pouring pumpkin juice for herself, and then for her husband. “Really, between the two of us, you’d think he have some brains.”
“I’m in Ravenclaw, Mum,” Gilderoy replied quietly. He regretted it immediately; before the pumpkin juice flooded his plate, before the chair hit the floor. Arguments were never acceptable…
Adrenaline fuelled his speed as he sprang out of his chair and darted up the dark stairs. He slipped into the room that he hated to call his own, and closed the door behind him. Crawling under the bed, he crossed his arms over his empty stomach and listened for the footsteps he knew would be following behind him.
Edit: Awarded 10 Points by Lilac, on 4/9/11.
Rating: R
Character: Gilderoy Lockhart
Word Count: 432
Warnings: physical and mental abuse
Summary: Lockhart’s childhood. Because nobody can be that annoying without a reason.
Gilderoy tightly clutched the railing as he slowly made his way down the stairs. The stairwell was dark; the only light that could be seen in the house was emanating from the kitchen below.
Tripping over a wrinkle in the carpet, Gilderoy tightened his grip on the railing, desperately trying to catch himself from falling down. His stomach clenched and his face flushed as he regained his balance; his stumble was nearly soundless, and he quickly sent a silent prayer of thanks.
“Honestly, how that boy ever made the quidditch team, I’ll never know,” his mother huffed from the kitchen. “He has less coordination than a one-legged troll.”
So they had heard him.
Taking a deep breath, the boy quickly descended the rest of the stairs; he wiped his eyes carefully before he joined his parents in the kitchen.
“I thought he wasn’t coming back until the summer,” his father said, sitting at the table.
Gilderoy sat next to his father and quickly clasped his hands together in his lap. Keeping his eyes focused on his own hands, he saw movement in his peripheral vision as his mother guided Christmas dinner to the table with her wand.
“It wouldn’t be so bothersome if the boy showed some sort of promise,” she replied.
Gilderoy sneaked a peak at the table. Yes, there was a full plate before him. They did know he was there; he dropped his gaze quickly, debating on whether he should draw attention to himself.
He tried to speak, but his voice was hoarse; he hadn’t said a word since he bid his friends farewell at King’s Cross. He took a drink of water and cleared his throat again. “Professor Flitwick says I have an aptitude with memory charms,” he said. “I was-”
He was cut off by a sharp stinging across his cheek. “Stop your nonsense,” his mother snarled, wiping her hand along her apron. She sat at the table, pouring pumpkin juice for herself, and then for her husband. “Really, between the two of us, you’d think he have some brains.”
“I’m in Ravenclaw, Mum,” Gilderoy replied quietly. He regretted it immediately; before the pumpkin juice flooded his plate, before the chair hit the floor. Arguments were never acceptable…
Adrenaline fuelled his speed as he sprang out of his chair and darted up the dark stairs. He slipped into the room that he hated to call his own, and closed the door behind him. Crawling under the bed, he crossed his arms over his empty stomach and listened for the footsteps he knew would be following behind him.
Edit: Awarded 10 Points by Lilac, on 4/9/11.