Immediately, the memories assaulted her; she’d spent most of her time on her back, and while she didn’t recognize the destroyed settee or ripped tapestry, she remembered the pattern on the ceiling all too well. She closed her eyes as the terror and pain of that night washed over her, Bellatrix’s screams of fury echoing in her ears as her whole body throbbed with echoes of the agony she had endured, her hand moving of its own accord to cover the horrid scar on her forearm. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she trembled in place, mentally transported back in time to the worst night of her life. 