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Summary
Sirius scoffs. He stands, shrugging his robes off, unbuttoning his shirt. “Same as I always do. Mother came back drunk. I got Crucio’d.” He bites his lip, blood welling there, as he steps back, into the light. “What did I expect. I’ve been tortured for 4 years now. You grow used to it.”
The moonlight falls on Sirius’ back, making the scars glow. Rows and rows and rows of them, layered and raised, coating his flesh like scales. 15 years of abuse, inscribed on his skin, a tale of tears and screams and torture. Carved on top is a set of livid lines; DISHONOUR.
Series
- Part 3 of tumblr fics
