recovery | regulus&severus
It had been exactly 1 day, 15 hours, 36 minutes, and 24 seconds since he’d been released from Aversio’s camp. The only reason he knew this was because of the owls some of the Death Eaters had sent him, checking up on whether he was okay, if he had food, if he was going to get their potions done on time, and did he have extra rum because they’d ran out and it was too late to go get some?
His body hurt more than it ever had - it reminded him of the pain he had felt when he was younger and under that horrid man’s roof. It took him back to all the fights and the screaming that he endured every night from under his bed or from inside his closet, of the heavy breathing after he’d just ran away from home in the middle of the night for a few hours to escape the screaming he had heard that day. Maybe this was what his mother felt like all those years.
Severus knew that he had to find his torturer soon. It all came down to the people who didn’t have an alibi that night, or weren’t Order members. There was just one flash of blond hair that he remembered, but nothing else apart from that. If he duelled anyone, he had no recollection of the event. Just that flash of blond hair.
So, to distract from the pain, he found himself at a shady bar at the outskirts of Diagon Alley, almost inching towards Knockturn. It wasn’t the cleanest, but there were fewer chances of him being recognised. This close to the end of the year, most people were too busy being with family that there were never too many people at a bar anyway. Of course, since he had none, there was plenty of reason for him to be alone.
He’d ordered a rum and coke and was sipping on it silently, lost in trying to remember his torturer, when the sound of a bell ringing disturbed him and caused him to look up at the person who’d just entered.
(( @rexisms ))
