I used to be a little boy, so old in my shoes -- Winter 1986 (DONE)

Austin wished that Lincoln would let him help, but when he was pushed to the side Austin knew that his brother was just trying to protect him.  He was wearing socks so he could slide on the wooden floors while playing earlier and now he wished he was not wearing them.  Austin gasped when he lost his balance, tumbling backwards down the stairs.

Riley was enraged now and knew the only way to keep Lincoln from any back talk in the future was to teach him a lesson.  His youngest son seemed to have appeared from nowhere as he swung to hit his eldest -- who pushed Austin out of the way.  Riley ended up hitting Lincoln so hard that his lip broke apart and started to bleed.  He went to hit his eldest son again when a sickening noise met their ears.  Riley lowered his hand and looked beyond Lincoln.  A cry escaped his lips a he pushed past the eldest boy.  "What have you done?" he yelled as he gathered Austin's limp body in his arms.

I crawled, unsure if I was steady enough to walk, to the top o fthe landing.  I saw a little pool of blood and that Austin was not moving.  What happened?  How did he fall down the stairs?  Because I pushed him.  Father was right... what did I do?

The yells made Genevieve leave the upstairs study.  What she saw enraged her like never before.  "You killed him!" she shouted at Lincoln.  She rushed to her husband and, in her opinion, her only son.  How could Lincoln had killed her little boy?  "Get out of my sight," she ordered Lincoln.

I wanted to hold Austin, tell him this was not funny and to stop playing.  The look on her face told me this was the last time I would ever see my little brother.  I did not try to go to my room... I went to austin's.  I knew better than to try to get past my parents and my little brother.

I stayed in Austin's bedroom for days with no food or contact.  I was not sure what would happen to me... until that door opened up and a man with long blonde hair walked in.

Riley and Genevieve spent a few nights deciding on what to do with Lincoln.  They contacted an old friend of Genevieve's to deal with LIncoln while they went to Austin's funeral.  Lucius would make sure Lincoln was dealt with properly.  The only reason why their son would be alive was because of Riley.  He made the point that it would draw too much attention if Lincoln died, too.  The only way they got away with him not coming to the funeral was by saying he was too devastated to come and say goodbye to his brother.  In all reality, they wanted to make sure Lincoln learned he could not hide forever.

I walked into the bedroom Genevieve told me I could find the boy.  I smiled slightly and sadistically before giving him a once over.  When it came to torture, I normally would have handed the matter over to Bellatrix; as she was imprisoned, I clearly could nto get to her.  Besides, I had to repay a favor... and I hated owing favors.  I would prefer someone to owe me.  "The best thing for you is to stay quiet about this," I said in my silky voice to the child.

His silky voice sent chills down my back.  I stood up off of the bed and stared at him.  I squared my shoulders as I looked at him, trying to be brave.  "Who are you?" I asked him, my voice shaking.

I shook my head, unsheathing my wand from my walking stick.  "It matters not," I replied calmly.  I would use the hybrid spell that Bellatrix had created so she would not always have to use the Crutiatus Curse.  I could see him shaking.  How I wished I could do this to Juniper, but Narcissa would never allow this from my own hand anyways.

I took a deep breath.  I knew what was coming.  I was not sure if I would remember him, but his voice would not be easily forgotten.  As soon as he waved his wand, I felt pain like I have never felt before.  I cried out and fell to the ground.  It seemed to go on forever.  I could not help but sob and shake with pain.  It hurt so bad!

It did not take long and I knew that it would look bad if the boy died, so I stopped.  He had marks all over on his back.  I bent down and whispered, "Be glad you're not my child.  A father's love would not have saved you."  I Apparated and left the child by himself, bleeding on the floor.

The pain suddenly stopped and I felt his breath near my ear.  I cringed, but could not move to get away from him.  I feared more was coming, but instead, he just spoke to me.  His words echoed in my head as I curled up in a ball and tried to stop shaking and crying.  I needed help... but I knew I would get none.