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Chapter Text

September 1st, 1971

Sirius Black was not at all nervous, thank you very much. He was of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and therefore he was confident and walked with his head held high. If he felt like he was going to piss himself just a little bit as he trailed behind his mother and father through Kings Cross, he wouldn’t admit that— not even to himself. And especially not to Regulus. 

“You promise to owl me every week, right?” His brother spoke softly to him as they stopped outside the entrance to the platform, gripping his hand tightly enough that Sirius thought it possible he would never let go. Sirius smiled down at him, something like guilt pooling in his gut at the thought of leaving and not taking Reg with him.

”I promise,” he all but whispered back, squeezing his hand. The brothers had a habit of that— speaking in whispers to each other, drawing as little attention to themselves as they could. It felt better that way, safer. Of course, Sirius only whispered when it came to Regulus. In every other instance of his life, Sirius was loud and brazen and bright and everything a Black shouldn’t be. From the moment he was born he made himself known in every room he walked into (which, it could be argued actually was a very Black family thing to do, but Sirius made himself known for all the wrong reasons). He never sat still, not at those blasted formal family dinners, not during his piano lessons, or his French lessons, or his Italian lessons, or even in his fathers office, as he was scolded and berated and made to feel like scum beneath the feet of the rest of his family. He also took to adopting the very opposite beliefs from his parents and cousins, rolling his eyes at the notions of blood purity and wealth and the so-called “Sacred Twenty Eight. ” He opposed that suffocating authority in his life in every way he knew how, and had plenty of scars to prove it. 

But with Reg, it was different. With Reg, it was like every instinct he had that usually possessed him to be fiery and loud and rebellious was smothered by his instinct to keep his brother safe. With Reg, all he could think about was protecting him and shrinking the both of them down until they were so small nothing could touch them. With Reg it was just different. It always had been. He reckoned it always would be.

“Come, boys,” Walburga beckoned, her stony gaze fixated on the muggles that passed the family by all around them, “This place makes me sick.” Sirius tutted, fighting the urge to roll his eyes lest he be blasted by some sort of painful hex, muggles looking on or not. Regulus, holding Sirius’s hand even tighter now, however that was possible, pulled him through the platform gate, eager to follow his mothers orders before Sirius could decide against it. Orion followed behind them and the family Black was now surrounded by the utter chaos that was platform 9 ¾. The platform was huge and so, so loud. It was full of life. It was wonderful, if a little overwhelming. Sirius had never seen so many witches and wizards in his entire life, including at those huge family events he hated so much. He gaped, open mouthed at the families all around in bright robes and with wet eyes, hugging their children and bidding goodbyes as trolleys pushed past at every angle. 

“Wow,” said Regulus, his eyes darting around and settling on a small family across from them. Sirius followed his gaze and observed two older people, who almost reminded him of Father Christmas and Mrs. Claus. They were hugging a boy no older than Sirius with jet black hair that stuck up at every angle and glasses that sat slightly askew on his face. 

“Stop it, mum,” the boy said as his mother planted kisses on his cheek, although it didn’t seem as though he wanted her to stop at all. Sirius promptly turned away. 

Regulus engulfed him in a tight hug. “I’ll miss you,” he spoke, “so much.” Sirius smiled softly at him. Regulus was the only person in the whole world that Sirius had ever been soft for. 

“I’ll miss you too, Reg.”

Sirius couldn’t tell if he was more nervous or relieved when he finally got on the train. Obviously any time away from his parents was welcome— they tended to make him feel like there was no oxygen left in his lungs. He would miss Regulus, though. He wasn’t necessarily afraid for Reg, his brother had always been the golden child and Sirius was fairly certain he had never even had so much as a stinging hex from their mother. Still, it didn’t feel right leaving him there. He shook off the feeling, burying it deep down within him to dissect later. As he walked the length of the train, he found that almost every compartment was full, aside from one that held his cousins. He shuddered and kept walking until he got to the very end, where the last compartment held just one boy. 

He opened the door, peering in at him. “Hey- mind if I sit? Everywhere else is full.” The boy jumped at the intrusion, looking up at him and nodding quickly before going back to reading his book. Sirius sat down across from the boy and studied him. He was taller, and slightly lanky. He had an ashy brown sort of hair that looked like it needed to be brushed and, perhaps most interestingly, he was riddled with scars. All kinds: Thin, pinkish, straight scars; raised bumpy purple ones; deep, red gashes that Sirius doubted would ever go away. They made him want to call out to the boy– made him want to say I'm here, do you see me? I have them too. I have them too. Can you hear me? Please hear me.

Instead, he said, “I’m Sirius. Sirius Black.” The boy glanced up at him and smiled slightly. Despite his scarring, or perhaps because of it, Sirius thought he was quite cool looking. 

“I’m Remus,” said the boy, “Remus Lupin.” Sirius grinned at him. He had a good feeling.

Just then, the compartment door flew open and two more boys came bustling in, shutting and locking it behind them, giggling and shushing each other as they peered through the glass.

“I think we lost him,” said one of them, who Sirius now realized was the boy from earlier with the crazy hair and the loving parents. He sat up a little straighter. 

“Lost who?” Said Remus, closing his book. Crazy hair boy laughed, a bright, sunny thing. He turned to his friend, a short, stout boy with blond hair and a nervous disposition. 

“What did he say his name was, Peter?” The short boy, Peter, shrugged, looking exhilarated and on the verge of a panic attack all at once. Crazy hair boy shrugged, too. “No idea, then. I pantsed him. He was a right git, though. Insulted my family.”

“Did he?” Inquired Sirius, “What’s your surname?” At this, the boy sat down next to Sirius and held out his hand. 

“Potter,” he said proudly, “and I’m James Potter.” Sirius took this information in as he looked at the hand outstretched before him. Potter . He was Sacred Twenty-Eight, then. Not disgustingly so, as Sirius was sure he had heard his parents call that family “ Mudblood lovers” and “ Blood traitors” and “ scum of the earth” before. They would certainly kill him if he even dared to associate with a Potter. Sirius shook the hand. 

“Sirius Black,” he said, much less proud than James had been to announce his heritage. James made a face. 

“Blimey,” he said, “sorry to hear it.” The compartment went quiet for a moment, as Peter and Remus watched with bated breath to see how Sirius would react. Sirius stared at James, at that knowing grin that spread across his face, and promptly burst into laughter. James quickly followed suit, as did Peter and Remus. The nervous energy that had sat like a rock in Sirus’s stomach all day began to fizzle out. 

The four boys made easy conversation the rest of the journey to Hogwarts. James told them all about the boy they had pantsed, ( “His hair was so greasy I thought it might catch fire!” Peter had said, which made James laugh, which made Peter’s face go pink) , and Sirius and James groaned about the life of an Heir, about music lessons and language lessons and boring black tie events they had both been dragged to. They bonded very quickly, in fact so quickly that Sirius was quite sure he had known James his entire life. Remus was quieter, but still chimed in here and there in all the chatter ( “No Peter, I’m fairly certain they won’t make first years wrestle a troll,” he said, patting Peters arm in comfort when the shorter boy had wondered aloud about how the sorting ceremony worked) . The sorting ceremony was a topic none of them much wanted to touch aside from James. Remus was very opposed to the idea of ending up in Ravenclaw like his father, ( “I mean, I do like to read, but they sound like a right bunch of bores, don’t they?”) and Peter seemed quite sure that he wasn’t going to be sorted at all. Sirius himself couldn’t decide which fate would be worse– ending up in Slytherin or ending up literally anywhere else. He supposed Ravenclaw might not be too terrible, but if he was sorted into Hufflepuff, or Merlin forbid Gryffindor , his parents would probably feed his soul to a dementor or something. James, on the other hand, was ecstatic at the idea of being a Gryffindor. 

“My whole family has been Gryffindor for centuries! My dad even has the Gryffindor motto tattooed on his forearm.” Sirius snorted. The only motto ever heard at Grimmauld Place was Toujours Pur, or always pure . 

“Merlin,” said Sirius, “If I got sorted into Gryffindor I'm not sure what I would do. Mother would maim me, I think.” James considered this for a moment.

“Yeah, probably,” he said, “but I think you’d be a really good Gryffindor.” Sirius made a face. “No, I’m serious!” continued James, “you’ve got that lionhearted spirit about you.” Sirius just shrugged, but he felt strangely invigorated at that. At the sureness James carried when he said it. James had said Sirius would be a good Gryffindor. Granted, James had just met him. All the same, the idea felt dangerous. It felt strangely exciting. It felt impossible.

“I guess we’ll find out,” he responded, an entirely new kind of nervous energy bubbling to the surface within him. 

And find out they did. Sirius was one of the first to be sorted, after Abbot ( “Hufflepuff!”) and Avery ( “Slytherin!”). He walked up to the front of the hall with an entirely false confidence and legs that felt akin to jelly. Sitting himself on the tall wooden stool, he picked at the splintered wood as the Sorting Hat was lowered over his head, the faces of his fellow students disappearing to make room for the darkness that engulfed him. The Hat smelled kind of like mildew. Sirius scrunched up his nose. 

“Hmmmm,” the Hat beckoned from everywhere, the sound of its old voice radiating inside Sirius’s skull, “curious.” Sirius gulped. “Another Black, then? How intriguing. You’ve a very strong mind… intense morals… a keen sense for adventure and a strong yearning to belong…” 

“ Would you please hurry up?” Sirius thought, his nervous energy bouncing around inside him like a ping-pong ball. He wasn’t a fan of being analyzed. The Hat chuckled.

“Yes, alright then,” it said, seemingly making up its mind. (Do hats have minds?) “This is certainly a first.” Before Sirius could ask what that meant, the Hat shouted out to the hall one huge, life altering word: “GRYFFINDOR!”

As the hat was removed from his head, Sirius swore that his heart dropped all the way to his feet. There was absolutely, positively, no way . He sat on the stool for another few moments, frozen with shock. He was terrified and giddy all at once, trying to picture what Mothers face would look like when she got the owl. He hoped the images he came up with were wrong.

“Mr. Black,” the voice of Professor McGonagall pulled him out of his thoughts, “If you would be so kind as to go and join the rest of Gryffindor house at their table?”

“Oh,” Sirius muttered, his cheeks now burning red, “R-right then, yeah.” He hopped off the stool, ignoring the Slytherin table completely for fear of making eye contact with one of his cousins. He made a beeline for the Gryffindor table, and sat down on the end with his head in his hands as the Sorting continued. Remus was the next of the group from the train to be sorted, with the only other new Gryffindor so far being a redheaded girl named Lily Evans. They both watched as Remus made his way onto the stool, and Sirius couldn’t help but notice a slight limp in his left leg as he walked. He was promptly sorted into Gryffindor, and as the hat was removed from his head, Remus turned to smile at Sirius, as if to say “ We're in this together! Isn’t that exciting?” And, despite his impending doom, Sirius couldn’t help but feel that it was. Remus took his seat next to Sirius and patted his arm. 

“Hope your Mum doesn’t maim you, mate,” he whispered, half-watching as Mary Macdonald was sorted into Gryffindor. 

“Me too,” Sirius replied, “although I suppose I have the rest of the year to learn protection spells.” Remus laughed even though Sirius wasn’t really joking. Dorcas Meadowes and Marlene Mckinnon were also sorted into Gryffindor, and promptly took their seats on either side of Lily and Mary across from the two boys. Both Remus and Sirius perked up when it came time for Peter and James to be sorted, momentarily pausing their riveting game of thumb wars to watch. Peter, much to everyone's surprise, especially his own, was sorted into Gryffindor. James, to no one's surprise, was also sorted into Gryffindor. The two sat down, with James beside Sirius and Peter beside Remus. 

“Told you you’d make Gryffindor!” cheered James, slapping Sirius on the back with fervor. He smiled brightly at Sirius, a dimple forming on his left cheek. Something warm settled in Sirius’s chest.

“How did you know?” Sirius asked, transfixed by the sureness that radiated around James Potter. He carried himself with such confidence, such brightness. Having grown up in the darkness, Sirius felt drawn to that light. James just shrugged, brushing his untamed hair out of his eyes.

“I didn’t,” he said, grabbing a handful of nuts from the middle of the table and popping an almond into his mouth, “I just hoped you would be.” Sirius just blinked.

“Why?”

“So we can be best mates, obviously,” James responded, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sirius grinned at this, a kind of sunshine swimming in his eyes that he had never known before.

“Obviously,” he echoed, wrapping his arm around James’s shoulders, “how could I have been so stupid?” James laughed at this and proceeded to shove an almond up Sirius’s nose, which led to a small but furious battle between the two boys to see who could fit the most nuts in their nostrils before sneezing. Sirius made it to six before Peter jumped out of his chair and pointed at the newest student being sorted.

“That’s him!” Peter blurted, “that’s the boy you pantsed on the train, James!” Remus, Sirius, and James all leaned forward in their chairs, trying to get a better look at the mystery boy. As he pulled almonds out of his nose, Sirius noted that the kid really did have very greasy hair. 

“Blimey,” said Sirius, “he looks constipated.” The four boys burst into laughter as the hat was lowered over the kids greasy-haired head. 

“Hey!” Lily Evans piped up, kicking Sirius’s leg under the table, “Severus happens to be my friend!” James pulled a face at this.

“His name is Severus? ” He said through his laughter, “Merlin's beard, it fits him so well!” Lily glowered at James, huffing and turning around to watch Severus be sorted into Slytherin. She deflated a bit and turned back to glare at the boys, who were giggling amongst themselves at the new nickname (Snivellus) that Sirius had dawned onto Severus. 

“Quit bullying him!” she snarled, her face burning a shade of red only rivaled by that of her flaming hair, “he hasn’t done anything to you!” James rolled his eyes.

“He called my family blood traitors !” James retorted, crossing his arms. She blanched and rolled her eyes, looking like she wanted to say more, but turned to Marlene and ended the conversation there. Sirius had a fleeting suspicion that she hadn’t really known what that meant. He found the idea of not understanding the complexities of pureblood culture dizzying. He lowered his voice slightly and turned to James.

“So that's what he said?” Sirius muttered, “What’s his name? Snape? I’m almost positive he’s not even a pureblood.”

James shook his head, “Nah, I think he's half blood.”

“Yeah, half wizard, half slimy troll.” At this, James snorted.

“I’d been wondering about the smell!”

The rest of the evening was possibly the most fun Sirius ever had. The four boys spent the feast talking about everything from their favorite Quidditch teams (James was very passionate about Quidditch, Sirius learned) to what they thought their classes would be like. Peter reckoned that transfiguration seemed the most difficult, but James was most excited for that class. Remus just seemed happy to be there. They also got to know the girls some and the talk turned to their families (Dorcas and Marlene were halfbloods, but Mary and Lily were both muggleborn). Sirius and James were obviously both pureblood, as was Peter, but Remus was a halfblood. Sirius had never been around so many non-purebloods in his life. He reckoned his mother would have a fit. Normally, the thought might scare him, but tonight, surrounded by all of his new friends in the warm light of the Great Hall, his stomach full of delicious food and his ears ringing with laughter, it didn’t seem like such a big deal. In fact, he didn’t think much about his family at all until that night, after the boys had claimed their beds in the dorm room and put on their pajamas. Listening to Peter snoring and staring up at his ceiling, Sirius tried to make any sense whatsoever of the day's events. He had heard his entire life how vile Gryffindor was– how awful it would be to have to go through seven full years in any house but Slytherin. But he found it wasn’t so bad at all. The common room was warm and inviting, with a great fire roaring and huge, ridiculously comfortable looking armchairs. The reds and golds of the dormitory has set Sirius at ease in a way the green and silver of his bedroom at home never had. He felt at home. He felt so at home it scared him, because what was he supposed to do with that? How was he ever supposed to go back to Grimmauld place and pretend that it was where he was meant to be when this place had made him feel more at peace than he had in his whole 11 years? It was almost painful that a group of boys he had met only hours ago had made him feel more like he belonged than his family ever had. It was painful, actually. It hurt more than any stinging hex he’d ever been given. He sighed and got out of bed, abandoning any notion of sleep and sitting up on the window ledge to peer at the moon. He looked at the sky, littered with stars, his family's namesakes, and wondered if Regulus was looking too. They used to hide out in the attic of the house together at night, looking out the small circle window and admiring the constellations together after their parents had gone to sleep. The thought of Reg looking through that window all alone tonight made Sirius tear up, if only a little bit. He sat there for a while, staring at the sky, wondering if it was staring back, until he was pulled out of his thoughts by a shuffling noise over James's bed. He quickly wiped his eyes as James tiptoed over and sat down next to Sirius on the ledge. 

“Hey,” James said, setting his chin on his knee and fiddling with the leg of his pajama pants.

“Hey.”

“How come you're awake?”

“How come you're awake?” 

“I asked you first!”

“I asked you second.” James rolled his eyes, but Sirius didn’t miss the smile that crept onto his face. 

“Fair enough. I’m a bit nervous about starting school, I think,” James confessed. 

“The great James Potter? Nervous? How ever could it be?” James just shrugged. They sat in silence for a minute, until Sirius spoke up again, “I'm scared, too.” 

“Then we can be scared together,” James smiled. Sirius could get used to that James Potter smile. 

“That doesn’t sound very Gryffindorly of us.”

“I think being scared and doing it anyway is the most Gryffindorly thing you can do.”

“I guess you’re right.” Silence again. After an hour or so, James stood up, patting Sirius’s shoulder.

“I’m going to sleep. Got to have my beauty sleep if I’m going to impress everyone with my incredible wit tomorrow.” Sirius laughed.

“Alright, I’ll go too then.” Sirius and James both buried themselves under their respective covers, and Sirius fell asleep to the sound of James’s words swirling around his mind: we can be scared together.

The next morning, Sirius found himself eating breakfast to the lovely sounds of James and Lily arguing.

“You are an arrogant toerag!”

“All I said was that you looked nice today!”

“And you think I’ll like you after you were a bully to my best friend just because you complimented me?”

“No– yes? I'm confused.”

“Idiot.” Lily said, grabbing her rucksack and leaving the table. Sirius buttered James’s toast and slid the plate over to him,

“I think she’s still mad about us laughing at Snivellus.”

“Oh, you think so?” James retorted, shoving the toast into his mouth at a record pace, “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“No clue why she cares so much,” Remus chimed in, “he doesn’t seem very friendly, if you ask me.” They all peered over to the Slytherin table and watched as Snape glared daggers at James.

“I think he’s going to try and kill you in your sleep, mate.” Sirius said solemnly. 

“Or he could just do it at potions,” Peter said, popping a strawberry into his mouth, “we have it with the Slytherins our first class today.”

“Ughhhhhh,” James groaned, falling dramatically onto Sirius, “don’t make me go!”

“It’s the first lesson ever James, you can’t very well miss it,” Remus said, stealing a strawberry from Peter's plate.

“Why don’t we think of a way to make class with Snivellus a little bit more interesting?” Sirius said, mischief swimming in his eyes. James shot up from his slumped form.

“You mean, like prank him?”

“Well, yeah, what else?”

“I think you're my soulmate.”

They walked to the dungeons with vigor in their step, giddy with anticipation. Remus, ever so brilliant, had read ahead in the text and suggested that adding porcupine quills to a hot cauldron might cause some nasty face boils. It was perfect. It was so perfect that Sirius might have even felt bad about it, had it not been for their running into Snape before class began. James had accidentally bumped into him as they made their way through the classroom door.

“Ugh, don’t touch me!” Severus grimaced, brushing off his robes like James had some nasty disease.

“He didn’t do it on purpose!” Peter piped up, before quickly moving to hide himself behind Remus.

“Yeah,” Sirius said, crossing his arms and raising his brow, looking horribly like his mother, “now he’s going to have to wash his robes about a hundred times to get rid of all the grease!” James, Remus, and Peter all laughed, and Severus turned to glare at Sirius, his jaw clenching in anger. 

“Oh, its you ,” he sneered, hardening his gaze even further, “I’m surprised you even showed up to class today, I would’ve thought the shame of being sorted into Gryffindor with your family history would be enough for you to lock yourself away for the rest of your life. Or maybe you're waiting for your parents to lock you away first? I’m sure they'll be so pleased to find out just how much of a disappointment their heir is.” Sirius lunged forward, anger rising in him so quickly he thought he might burst if he didn’t sock that slimy git in the face right now – but Remus grabbed a hold of the back of his robes, leading him away and rolling his eyes at Severus as they passed. 

“What did you do that for?” Sirius whined to Remus, anger dissipating more the longer he looked at him.

“We’ll get him back when the time is right, it would be stupid to blow it now.”  Remus said, sitting down at the table beside Peter and opening his book to the first chapter. It was then, as he glanced over at James grabbing the list of starter ingredients for each of the four of them, and slipping some porcupine quills into his robes pocket as he did so, that Sirius remembered what they were planning. 

“Oh,” he said, sitting down and opening his book too, “right.” Remus smiled and shook his head as James returned with the ingredients, smirking. 

“This is going to be so good ,” he said, sitting down and opening his book as Slughorn began to address the class.

The class was entirely uneventful at the start, but after the syllabus was gone over and the class began to attempt to brew a Wiggenweld potion, James walked by Severus’s table under the guise of grabbing more salamander blood and minutes later Severus’s cauldron had erupted, splashing him and every Slytherin within a few feet of him in the concoction. Sirius had to try very hard to stifle his laughter as half of the Slytherin first years were escorted by Slughorn to the hospital wing to get their faces de-boiled, with Snape's condition being the worst. He looked like a giant wart (“ even more so than usual” , James had whispered) and it was perhaps the funniest thing Sirius had ever seen. He high fived James after Slughorn was safely out of sight. As if summoned, Lily Evans came stomping over to their table.

“You!” She pointed at James, her eyes narrowing in a terrifying amount of anger, “you did that! Didn’t you?” She crossed her arms, as if awaiting a response.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” James retorted, in quite a posh manner indeed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and pretending to read a page of the textbook, “I’ve been focusing diligently on my studies.”

“Hear, hear,” Sirius said, copying James’s manner as he added a bit of Wiggentree bark to the cauldron, “we have no time for something as hilarious, and might I say incredibly intuitive, as sabotaging poor old Snivellus’s cauldron.” Lily scoffed, glaring at the two of them like she was trying to explode them with her mind.

“Don’t worry,” James said softly, “I’ve heard great things about Madame Pomfrey. I’m sure she’ll have him back to his old, revolting self in no time.” Peter snorted from behind them.

“You are perhaps the most foul creature to ever walk the planet, Potter,” she said promptly, turning around and going back to sit at her own desk. 

“I’m going to marry that woman,” James said, resting his chin in his hand as he watched her furiously add salamander blood to her potion.

“Sure you are, mate.”

Professor Slughorn came back ten minutes later looking very flushed indeed, and by that time, the class was over. He seemed to have no idea how Snape's potion had been so disastrous, and so the boys walked into their next class, Transfiguration, completely unpunished. It was very encouraging. They sat down in the same order they had in potions, with Sirius and James at the table in front of Remus and Peter, and shared very confused looks with each other as the only occupant of Professor McGonnagall’s desk was a small tabby cat. It stared at them curiously, tilting its head to one side. James copied the movement. The cat stayed there, unmoving for several more minutes until the entire class had taken their seats, when it promptly leapt from the desk and took the form of McGonagall before it could hit the ground. 

“Bloody hell ,” James said, seemingly very delighted, “That was so cool!” Professor McGonnagall set her gaze onto James and pursed her lips.

“Mind your language,” she spoke sternly, “but I thank you for that riveting assessment of my skills.” 

“Anytime, Professor.” She nodded at him slightly and turned to address the class. 

“Good morning, students, I trust that you are all very eager to learn the noble art of Transfiguration, so I shall not bore you too long with introductory statements. I am Professor McGonnagall, your Professor and head of Gryffindor House. I’m quite sure all of you are itching to learn how to transform into an animal as I’ve demonstrated, but I’m afraid we are going to have to start with something quite simpler.” James raised his hand.

“When do we get to learn how to turn into animals?” He asked, knee bouncing in anticipation. She smiled slightly at him.

“I’m afraid the art of becoming an Animagus is very advanced magic indeed– not even N.E.W.T students become Animagi in their time here,” she said plainly, ignoring the way James deflated, “Now, who can tell me exactly what Transfiguration is?” Lily Evans raised her hand before McGonagall had even finished asking the question. 

“Transfiguration is known by wizardkind as the art of turning one thing into another, changing the form and appearance of an object by altering its very molecular structure,” she said proudly, as if reading from a script.

“Very good!” McGonagall mused, “I see someone has done the reading early. A point to Gryffindor.” Lily beamed. “Now,” continued McGonagall, “if you would all turn your books to chapter one, we can begin our lesson on turning matches to needles.”

Sirius had thought turning a match into a needle would be far too easy, but by the end of the lesson, only James had managed to successfully transform his match completely. Remus’s match had gone slightly pointy on the end, and Sirius’s had turned slightly silver, but neither had managed to do it as well as James. Peter hadn’t managed to do much of anything with his match at all, aside from lighting it on fire so many times that he had to get three new ones. Infact, the only person in the whole class who had come close to James was Lily, whose match had turned metallic and even pointy, but she couldn’t seem to figure out how to remove the match-stub from the end. In any case, they had a free period before lunch, so Sirius, Remus, and Peter followed James to the owlery so he could send a letter to his parents about his achievement. 

“The day isn’t even over yet,” said Peter, trudging up the stairs behind them, “shouldn’t you wait until tomorrow?” James just shrugged as he began writing on a scrap piece of parchment.

“I’m sure I’ll owl them tomorrow, too,” he said matter-of-factly, “It’s weird not being around them all the time.” Remus considered this.

“I suppose it is,” he agreed, “I miss my mother like a limb and it’s only been a day.”

“Exactly!” said James, finishing his letter and tying it to the leg of a school owl, “and I’m sure they’ll want to hear from me lots, anyway.” 

“I suppose,” said Peter, “but I’m hungry. Can we go down to lunch now?” Sirius was grateful for the change of subject. 

As they made their way down from the owlery and into the Great Hall, Sirius tried to ignore the ache in his chest. He felt that, perhaps, there was something very wrong with him. He knew that his parents were stricter than others, but he had never considered how fundamentally different his family was from his peers. Sure, he understood that many families weren’t so posh and pureblood-obsessed, but he hadn’t realized that it was normal to feel nurtured by a parent like his friends did. He hadn’t realized that some children had parents who wanted them to write about something as simple as doing well on an assignment. He felt wrong. He felt wrong because he knew his parents didn’t miss him, but also because he didn’t miss them either. Why was it that he could breathe so much easier away from them? Why didn’t his friends feel like that, too? He understood, perhaps, that Remus and Peter might have an easier time at home, but James was the Heir to a Sacred Twenty-Eight family. He had said himself on the train that he had been subjected to language lessons and fancy events and taught all his life how to be proper and polite, so why was it that he didn’t feel as though his parents were dictators in his home? Maybe he does , Sirius thought to himself, Maybe he owled them because he wants them to be proud of him . He thought that this was more likely– that James was overcompensating so his parents didn’t consider him a failure. Sirius could understand that. He clung to that notion– to the idea that he wasn’t the only child with a home devoid of love. It couldn’t just be him. It couldn’t just be him because that would make it his fault, and he didn’t know how he would ever handle that. They sat down at their usual spots and James piled food onto his own plate before frowning at Sirius’s empty one. 

“You alright, mate?” He asked, setting his fork on the table and turning his attention to Sirius. Sirius blinked at him, his depressing train of thought evidently derailed.

“Yeah,” he lied through his teeth, making himself a sandwich that he really didn’t want, “never better.”

Chapter Text

The rest of the week was fairly eventful. By Sunday afternoon, Sirius and James had managed to rack up no less than six detentions each. Peter had been given three, and Remus, ever so elusive, had managed not to get any at all, despite being the mastermind behind the majority of the group's antics. They had launched water-balloons at the Hufflepuffs, charmed the Ravenclaws spellbooks to be unable to open, and broken into the Slytherin common room and decorated it with pink streamers and bows once all the inhabitants had gone to sleep. (The password was Salazar , which really, Sirius thought, was just too easy). James and Sirius had also hit Severus with several jelly-leg hexes, but Severus had been the first to pull out his wand in each of those instances. Sirius had managed to dodge all of his attacks, because, quite frankly, compared to Mother, Snape had very shitty aim when it came to hexing people. James himself had only been hit twice, once by a leg locker curse and once by a mysterious spell that had caused his tongue to turn a rather bright shade of blue and swell to the size of their History of Magic textbook. He seemed to have thought it was very funny, however, and Sirius quite agreed. Regardless, James and Sirius now found themselves in McGonagall's office for what might have been the billionth time already.

“Would either of you care to explain why Mason Avery turned up in the hospital wing earlier today with seaweed growing out of his ears?” She asked them sternly, her hands interlocked on her desk as she leaned forward slightly in her chair. Sirius and James looked at eachother. Remus had done that one, actually, after Avery had called Lily a mudblood. Remus had taken quite a liking to Lily, the two of them studying in the library together often.

“Well,” James began, leaning back in his own chair and crossing his legs, “Minnie, may I call you Minnie?”

“You most certainly may not.”

“Minnie,” he continued anyway, which led her to roll her eyes, “I’m sure that Mr. Black and I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“As hilarious as that is,” Sirius added, “and as much as we wish we had been the ones to carry out such a deed, James and I have an alibi.”

“An alibi?” McGonagall questioned, raising her eyebrow in hidden amusement.

“Why yes,” James nodded, “We do. You see, Minnie-”

“Professor.”

“ Professor Minnie,” James corrected himself, “Sirius and I were serving detention with Professor Slughorn all morning, so we cannot possibly be the culprits you're looking for.” McGonagall considered this.

“Peter, then,” she concluded. Once again, Sirius found himself amazed at the staff's lack of consideration that Remus was a possibility. 

“Serving detention with Professor Flitwick for the water-balloon incident,” Sirius countered. She frowned, sighing to herself. 

“Alright, then,” she waved them off, standing up, “you two may go.” The boys stood up, grinning with victory.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” James said as they turned to leave, “Can’t wait to make your acquaintance again soon.” The boys turned and left, a spring in their step as they closed the door behind a very defeated-looking McGonagall. Oh, how Sirius loved Hogwarts. 

“C’mon,” James said, locking his elbow with Sirius’s, “we don’t want to miss lunch!” Sirius just followed him, although he very much so did want to miss lunch. Lunch was when the owls typically dropped off post for the students, and Sirius still hadn’t heard from his parents. The anticipation was killing him. He couldn’t tell if it would be worse for his parents to stop speaking to him altogether or to berate him for his Sorting. At least if he was in trouble it would mean they cared about him in their own, twisted way. But then he thought about what being in trouble meant, really, and he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to go home again. He was either going to be shunned by them completely or punished. Neither of those scenarios brought him much comfort. In any case, he couldn’t control how they were going to react, so he tried to push those thoughts out of his mind as he entered the Great Hall. He sat himself down between Remus and James and listened absentmindedly as James and Marlene discussed upcoming Quidditch tryouts. He had managed to finish half his sandwich when the owls came swooping overhead. He shut his eyes, still unsure if he was hoping for a letter or the absence of one. When the sound of wings flapping ceased, he opened them slowly, and he could swear his heart quit beating all together for a moment. A letter. In front of him. On the table. Stamped with the Black family crest. His breath started to pick up, and he felt as though the chatter of the students surrounding him muffled, because all he could hear was his rapid heartbeat in his ears, and he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe , because they were going to kill him, he was going to die, they were going to hurt him so bad and he didn’t know if he could handle that kind of pain and what was he going to do what was he going to do oh my god-

“Sirius?” It was Remus who brought him back to Earth, who set his hand gently on Sirius’s shoulder. Sirius flinched away violently before remembering he was not, in fact, in Grimmauld Place.

“Hm?” was all that he managed to choke out. His eyes were still fixated on the letter. He couldn’t look away, no matter how desperately he wanted to. 

“Are you okay, mate?” asked James, who had refrained from touching him after witnessing how well that went for Remus. Sirius could only nod. It felt like all of his muscles were so tense he was almost frozen. It wasn’t for almost a minute that he realized he was tensing himself in preparation for a blow. He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, willing himself to relax. There was no need to make a fool of himself in front of the entirety of Gryffindor house. James glanced at the letter that sat like a loaded weapon in front of Sirius and seemed to realize what was happening. Wordlessly, he picked up the letter, and Sirius snapped his head to face him, to snatch it back, but James just shook his head. 

“I’ll read it,” he said softly, “I’ll read it and I’ll tell you if there's anything important you need to know.” Sirius’s throat felt very dry. Every first year at the table was watching the two of them with bated breath. 

“I-” Sirius began, “They’ll be, they won't be-” He found that he couldn’t get the words out. He knew they would be livid, and their anger felt private, like something he needed to guard, something just for him to carry. But James had come to feel like an extension of himself. He wanted to warn him about what he might read, but he didn’t know how.

“I know,” James stopped him, “I know. I’ll read it and I’ll give you the gist, okay?” Sirius just nodded, biting his nails furiously as James opened the envelope and unfolded the letter. He watched with intense concentration as James’s eyes darted across the page, trying very hard not to flinch at every furrow of his brow. It felt like they sat like that for ages, with James reading the letter and Sirius reading his expressions. Finally, James finished the letter and cleared his throat, expression blank. He burned it with a flick of his wand and led Sirius out of the Hall and into an empty corridor by his hand. Once they were alone, James pulled him into what was perhaps the tightest hug Sirius had ever been given. He flinched from the touch at first, still incredibly on edge, but then he breathed in James’s scent– that mixture of berries and forest leaves and mischief, and he settled into the embrace like a second nature. They stayed like that for a while, two intertwined souls in a corridor, until Sirius finally pulled away. 

“What did it say?” He asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. James just shook his head.

“Other than the- uhm,” James began, but he couldn’t seem to find the words.

“Numerous threats on my life I’m sure,” Sirius finished for him, stone faced. James just nodded sheepishly.

“Yes, yes, other than that, they just said that they wanted you home for Christmas and not to owl your brother. Something about filling his head with dangerous ideas.” Sirius considered this. He had expected to be told not to contact Regulus, and though it pained him greatly, he hadn’t tried to send him any letters anyways because he knew they would be intercepted. His being summoned for the holiday, however, was intriguing. It couldn’t mean good things, obviously. 

“Did they say why they want me there for Christmas?”

“Well, not exactly. But I don’t think you should go.” James looked like a deer in headlights. It made Sirius feel guilty, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. 

“If they've summoned me, James… I mean, you read what they're like. I can’t just disobey that.” James bit the inside of his lip in thought. 

“What if you stayed at my house instead? Just don’t tell them where you’re going! My parents would love to have you. You could be a Potter!” This sentiment, while completely delusional, made Sirius feel very warm inside. He had never felt wanted by anyone other than Regulus. He hadn’t ever considered anyone else would care. 

“I wish I could, James, but I have my brother, and if I were to leave, that would make him the Heir, and I just can’t do that to him.”

“Fine. You’ll go for Christmas, but you’re staying at my house for the summer holidays. I’m your family, now, okay? I promise we’ll figure something out.”

“Okay,” said Sirius, finding it very hard not to believe anything that came out of James Potter's mouth. The boys embraced once more before heading back into the Hall, and Sirius felt, for the first time in his life, that he might not be completely alone after all. 

That thought, while comforting, did not stop his brain from feeling very staticky the rest of the day. He and James sat back down at the table and Sirius ignored the way Remus watched as he didn’t touch any of his food, and he ignored Marlene and Mary’s incessant whispering to each other, and he ignored the fact that James didn’t eat anything else either, but he just couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in his stomach that said danger danger danger danger . He served one of his many detentions in the late afternoon, shining trophies for filch, and tried very desperately not to look at his distorted reflection in the gold plating for fear of seeing his mother staring back at him.

Sleep did not come easy that night. Sirius found himself tossing and turning, fiddling with his Heir ring that wrapped around his ring finger like a collar wraps around the neck of a dog. Every time he managed to fall asleep, he woke up in a cold sweat, vivid memories of cold office floors and searing pain and hot tears plaguing his nightmares. He didn’t want to put anything else on James, so he hadn’t told him earlier, but he was so terrified. He was petrified at the idea of returning home for the holiday. It was still months away and he was already shaking like a leaf just thinking about being back in Grimmauld Place. He didn’t know what to do with that level of fear. Usually at home, he was punished so soon after making a mistake that there wasn’t time for him to even think– it was just pain until it was finally over. He found that the anticipation was just as torturous. 

The third time he jolted awake from a nightmare, his stomach began to tighten and contort with pain and his throat filled with intense nausea. He sprung out of bed, gagging, and just barely made it to the toilet before he started to throw up. He held his hair back with one hand, and gripped the toilet paper holder with the other as he retched, over and over and over until it was just bile, and he was still throwing up. After some time, he began to make out a soft knocking at the door over the round of his own ragged breathing.

“Sirius?” James called, “Are you okay? Let me in, please.” Too exhausted to even stand up fully, Sirius crawled over to the door and unlocked it before going back to his spot over the toilet.

“Merlin- fuck, Sirius-” A very distressed-looking James sputtered out, shutting the door behind him and quickly going over to hold back Sirius’s hair for him, “Should we take you down to the hospital wing?” Sirius just shook his head, dry heaving a couple times.

“No,” he choked out, “No, I think it’s slowing down- I just- I don’t know what happened.”

“Was it something you ate?” Another bout of retching and subsequent sick.

“No,” he wiped his mouth with his pajama sleeve, “I didn’t- ugh- I didn’t even eat dinner.”

“Then what–” James started, but was quickly interrupted, “Merlin, Sirius! How much bile does a person even have?”

“Clearly,” Sirius breathed, barely able to keep his eyes open, “clearly a lot.”

“Mm,” James hummed in agreement, looking worriedly at Sirius’s slumped form, “That’s enough, I’m taking you to Madam Pomfrey right now .”

“But-”

“No buts,” James said firmly, clearly in his element, “I’m going to go wake Remus to help me bring you.” Sirius wanted very much to argue, to tell James not to wake poor Remus, that he was fine, but he couldn’t even stop vomiting long enough to finish a sentence, and the room was spinning, and he was so, so tired , so he just slumped over the toilet bowl further and hummed in acknowledgement. James hurried back into the dorm, and Sirius could do nothing but listen to him frantically whisper to Remus before the two of them entered back into the bathroom. Sirius glanced up at Remus, wanting to apologize for being the reason he was awake, but he took one look at him, at his disheveled, honey-toned hair and wrinkled pajamas, the way the yellow light of the bathroom reflected off of his face, his freckles dotting his cheeks in complex constellations, and he found himself throwing up yet again. 

“Wow, James, you weren’t kidding,” was all Remus could muster to say.

“Yeah,” James said, eyes darting around the room as he tried to work out how to get Sirius to the hospital wing without turning the entire common room into a biohazard, “here, why don’t you hold onto the rubbish bin while we go downstairs in case you need to be sick again, Sirius?” Sirius nodded his head, and James helped him to his feet as Remus emptied the bin (which was filled to the brim with candy wrappers and undone homework assignments) onto the ground. Sirius gripped the bin tightly as James and Remus led him quietly out of the dorm and through the common room, willing himself not to be sick again at least until they made it to Madam Promfrey. He figured that he must have lost quite a lot of fluid, because even with Remus and James helping him to walk, his legs felt quite unstable and his head was pounding. They were just outside of the portrait of the Fat Lady when James set Sirius down against the wall.

“What are you doing?” Remus asked James frantically, kneeling down and rubbing Sirius’s back as he heaved yet again. 

“I don’t think he should even be walking right now. I’m going to go and see if I can find some help and bring them to us.”

“Okay,” said Remus, settling down fully next to Sirius, who was trying to decide whether or not this was how he was going to die, “just be quick, then.”

“I will,” nodded James, taking off into the dark corridor. Sirius sighed and rested his head on Remus’s shoulder.

“If you throw up on me,” Remus said, very seriously, “I’m going to kill you.” Sirius just laughed, albeit weakly. 

“I wouldn’t want to ruin your precious sleep jumper, you do wear it every night.”

“That is false information you’re spreading,” Remus gasped, feigning offense, “I’ll have you know I wear my backup sleep jumper every third Wednesday.” Sirius laughed again before retching over the bin. 

“Ughhh, don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”

“Sorry, I tend to have that effect on people.”

“What? Pain?” Sirius smirked, turning to Remus and raising an eyebrow.

“No, you tosser! Laughter! I’m incredibly hilarious.”

“Mhm, sure,” said Sirius, now fighting to keep his eyes open.

“I am!” 

They sat for a few minutes more before James came running back toward the pair, a very disheveled-looking Professor McGonagall not far behind him, dawning a long braid and tartan pajamas. 

“Merlin’s beard!” She exclaimed, summoning a stretcher for him immediately with so much as a flick of her wand, “I’ll get you down to Madam Pomfrey right away. Thank you very much Mr. Potter and Mr. Lupin, you may now both return to your dormitories.

“No way!” they both argued in unison, following her and the barely-conscious Sirius down the hall.

“We can’t just leave him!” said Remus, speeding up his stride to match McGonagalls. She rubbed her temples as they continued to make their way to the hospital wing before sighing in defeat.

“Very well,” she relented, “but I highly doubt Poppy will allow the both of you to stay for very long.”

“We can be very convincing,” countered James as they turned a corner. 

“Yes, I’m well aware.” 

Finally, they made it to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey seemed to already have been waiting for their arrival. She transferred Sirius from the stretcher onto one of the hospital beds, which frankly had no business being that comfortable when sleep was so tempting and yet so dangerous. James and Remus each took a seat on the bed opposite him, being much quieter than usual for fear they would be sent back to the common room. Madam Pomfrey ran several tests, both muggle and magical, before handing Sirius a small vial of an unknown potion. 

“Drink this,” she said plainly, “it will stop you from being sick any further.” Sirius didn’t need to be told twice. He drank the vial, and while it wasn’t pumpkin juice by any means, he found that the pain in his stomach settled significantly. 

“Very good, darling,” she said softly, which made Sirius’s cheeks burn in praise. She pressed a cool hand to his forehead and frowned before turning around and rummaging through her medicine cart for a few moments. “The dehydration has given you a fever,” she told him, turning back to him and handing him a glass of water and a white tablet. “Take this, it will help.” He popped the tablet into his mouth and gulped down the water very quickly, only realizing after the liquid touched his lips just how thirsty he was. Madam Pomfrey refilled the glass and had him drink it a few more times before she was satisfied, at which time she turned around to face James and Remus. 

“Boys,” she began, “I know that you want to stay with your friend, but he needs rest right now. I assure you that come morning, I’ll allow you to come and see him, yes?”

“But-”

“No, buts, James,” interrupted McGonagall, who had been gazing worriedly at Sirius the entire time with such intensity that it made him want to squirm, “I’ll write the both of you, and Peter, I suppose, a pass to skip tomorrow's morning study hall so you can come and sit with him so long as you cease your arguments right now.” Remus looked at James, who looked at Sirius, who nodded his head as if to say I’m okay, you can go, I’ll be okay .

“We’ll be back before you know it, mate,” said Remus, shooting him an apologetic glance. 

“See you in the morning, then,” mumbled James, who was clearly not satisfied with the idea of leaving until Sirius was 100% healed. Regardless, Professor McGonagall led them both out of the hospital wing and Sirius was left alone with Madam Pomfrey. She fluffed his pillow for him and dimmed the lights before sitting down at the foot of his bed. 

“Sleep will be the best medicine,” she told him, looking at him like she was trying to dissect his psyche with her eyes. He looked down, fidgeting with the wool blanket. 

“I can’t,” he spoke ashamedly, “It’s like my brain won’t let me.” He wanted to explain further, to tell her that he thought the nightmares had cursed him, that his fear had manifested itself so physically that he was certain they had been the reason he couldn’t stop being sick. It was like his mother was already punishing him before Sirius had even had to return home. He wanted to tell her that, he wanted to tell her everything, but, as usual, he didn’t know how. She looked at him curiously for a moment, but then it seemed that she understood perfectly what he was trying to convey.

“Do you think a potion for a Dreamless Sleep might help?” He looked up at her and nodded furiously. A nightmare-less sleep. It sounded heavenly. 

“Very well then,” she said, standing up and rummaging again through her medicine cabinet before handing him an almost pear-shaped vial. He drank it almost faster than he had the water and promptly passed out before he could even say thank you.

When Sirius woke up, feeling more refreshed than he had in ages, it was Remus who was sitting at the foot of his bed, his brows furrowed in concentration as he hunched over a sheet of parchment.

“Eucgh, get that homework away from me before I start to throw up again,” Sirius said, his voice groggy. Remus perked up immediately, flashing him a grin before folding up the parchment.

“Well good morning, sunshine,” he teased, “how're you feeling?”

“Just spectacular, thanks for asking.”

“Mm, I figured as much.” Sirius sat up a little in the bed, still getting his bearings. 

“Where are James and Peter?”

“Oh, am I not enough for you? How very hurtful,” Remus said dramatically before continuing, “They went down to the Great Hall to grab us all some breakfast.” Sirius just nodded at this, suddenly feeling slightly awkward. They sat in silence for a beat, and then,

“I’m sorry James woke you up last night, I didn’t mean to cause a big fuss.” Remus scoffed, shuffling over to sit next to Sirius at the head of the bed.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You were sick, so we helped you. That’s what friends do,” he assured him, bumping their shoulders together. Sirius just nodded. 

“I’m sorry anyways.”

“I know. But you don’t have to be.”

“I know.” They sat silently again before Remus pulled out his homework again. With a glance, Sirius could tell it was star-charts for Astronomy, and he could also tell that Remus was not very apt at it. He laughed a little.

“Oh, like you could do any better!” Remus said, not unkindly. 

“I could, in fact,” countered Sirius, grabbing the parchment from its spot on Remus’s lap and the quill from his hand. He hadn’t paid even a spot of attention during last week's class, instead opting to drop chocolate frogs off the end of the astronomy tower with James and Peter to see how long it would take for them to break. Regardless, he understood the assignment perfectly. Much to his dismay, he had been forced to study the stars his entire life. Remus just watched with impressed amusement as Sirius crossed out mistakes and filled in blanks before handing the completed chart back to him. 

“Damn.”

“Told you!” Remus laughed, gathering his things together before putting them back in his rucksack. Sirius watched as his calloused hands slid the parchments back into their respective folders, taking note of the scars that painted his wrists in such a way that it looked as though Remus’s skin was fighting not to break open entirely and reveal something much bigger hidden underneath. Remus must have caught him staring, because he quickly pulled down his robes to cover his arms more completely and cleared his throat. Sirius opened his mouth to apologize, but instead what came out was, “I have them too, you know.” Remus snapped his head toward Sirius to meet his gaze, eyebrows raised in shock.

“Have- have what?” He implored, almost nervously.

“Scars,” whispered Sirius. Remus just blinked at him, taking in the information slowly. It seemed as though he didn’t know what to say, so Sirius brought his knees close to his chest and lifted up the leg of his pajama pants, where three long, red scars were etched onto his femur, perfectly parallel to each other. He had gotten them attempting to dodge the cat-o-nine tails. 

“Oh,” said Remus, rather dumbly, before lifting up his own pant leg and showing Sirius what looked almost like a firework made out of scars in exactly the same place. His were different. Less controlled. More sporadic. 

“How did you get them?” It was Sirius’s turn to say something rather dumb. Remus just blanched, apparently still slightly shocked by the conversation. 

“How did you get yours ?” He countered, crossing his arms and raising his brow defiantly.

“Hm. Touche.”

“How about a scar for a scar? I’ll tell you about one of mine and you tell me about one of yours.”

“Just one?”

“Just one.”

“Okay.” Remus turned around so that Sirius was looking at the back of his head, before lifting up some of his hair and revealing a rhombus-shaped scar where his neck met his skull. He faced Sirius again, clearly fighting laughter.

“You cannot tell a soul about this, okay?”

“Okay…” Sirius agreed, albeit very suspiciously.

“Alright. So there's this huge oak tree in the back garden at my parents house, and when I was younger I used to climb it all the time. One day, when I was like, I dunno, six? I was maybe halfway up the tree when I got startled by a bird and I got so scared that I started flailing around and I fell out of the tree and landed on a big rock, hence the scar.”

“Oh my god. A bird?”

“A bird.”

“You split your head open. On a rock. Because of a bird.”

“Precisely.”

“Was it at least a large bird? A scary one?”

“I would argue that all birds are scary, but no. It was a hummingbird.” Sirius burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. The great Remus Lupin. Afraid of a hummingbird. Fell out of a tree . It was just too good. Just then, as Sirius was very busy making numerous bird noises, James and Peter burst through the door, carrying an array of food, none of which were breakfasty. Upon seeing that he was indeed alive, James dropped his pile of candies onto the side table and pounced on top of Sirius with such force that Remus nearly fell off the side of the bed. 

“Sirius!! I missed you, mate!” Sirius hugged him back, grinning from ear to ear as Peter took a seat on the foot of the bed and handed Remus a box of Bertie Botts. 

“It’s not like he was in a coma,” Peter laughed, before gagging at the taste of what appeared to be a nasty flavor of jelly-bean, “It’s been one night .”

“One long, agonizing night,” corrected James.

“Emphasis on agonizing, ugh, I don’t think I’ll ever look at a rubbish bin the same way again,” added Sirius, who was now lying squished between Remus and James on a bed that was clearly not made for more than one person. 

“What happened anyway?” Asked Peter, now fiddling with a chocolate frog container, “Do you think someone hexed you?” Sirius just shrugged. Admittedly, he was fairly certain it was nerves combined with sleep deprivation, but that felt embarrassing, so he didn’t say it. 

“I’ll bet it was Snivellus. The wanker. We’ll get him back good, Sirius, ooh, or better yet, we’ll get all of Slytherin!” said James excitedly, puffing up his chest in a manner that made him look incredibly ridiculous. Sirius felt that some mischief was exactly the kind of medicine he needed, and so the boys spent the rest of the morning in the hospital wing planning the demise of Slytherin house. They came up with a whole lot of nothing, and Sirius was released from the wing by lunch, but not before Madam Pomfrey gave him a few more vials of Dreamless Sleep potion to last him the week. 

The boys made their way down to the Great Hall, egos bruised from their failure at coming up with any good pranks to pull on the Slytherins. They sat down in their usual spots, an almost immediately after seeing Sirius, all four of the Gryffindor-first year girls came running toward them.

“Sirius!” said Marlene, who was perhaps Sirius’s favorite of the bunch, “Peter told us you’d been sick! What happened?” Sirius shot a quick glare at Peter, who shrugged sheepishly in apology.

“James went a couple days without showering and the smell made me terribly ill,” said Sirius, quite seriously. James socked him on the shoulder as the girls laughed, Lily being the loudest. Remus, who had been busy making both he and Sirius’s plates, gasped, dropping the sandwiches. Sirius turned to him.

“What happened?” He asked, fearing that he was contagious and going to have to conjure up a rubbish bin for Remus. But Remus just smiled, and pulled Sirius closer to whisper in his ear. After a few moments, Sirius jumped back in excitement.

“Oh my God that’s perfect!” he yelled, perhaps a bit too loudly as some of the Hufflepuff students turned around to glare at him. Not paying them any mind, he grabbed James by the scruff of his robes and pulled him away from the table and out of the hall toward the library, Remus and Peter following behind them. 

“What are you doing?” asked James, but he followed nonetheless.

“Remus came up with the most brilliant idea! Tell them, Remus,” Sirius said, giddy with excitement as they walked. 

“Well, Sirius joking about your smell making him sick gave me an idea,” he said, lowly enough that passing students couldn’t hear, “what if we stuck a nasty smell to all of the Slytherins robes and then made it impossible for them to get them off?” James’s eyes grew wide and his stride turned to something akin to a skip.

“It’s perfect, Remus! I could kiss you!” said James as they turned the corner into the library. They all sat down, pulling out bits of parchment and charms books and quills. Lunch wasn’t over for another 45 minutes. 

“But how are we going to get them to put the robes on if they smell so bad?” asked Peter, a valid question. They thought about it for a moment, stumped. James flicked through his fifth year charms book (which he had borrowed from a particularly nice older Gryffindor named Frank Longbottom for prank ideas) and landed on a page titled “ Delayed Charms ”

“Ahah!” he said proudly, “that's it! We just have to put the stink spell on a timer, so the robes won't start to smell until after they've been put on! We could set it to activate at breakfast!”

“Brilliant, Jamesy-boy,” said Sirius wrapping his arm around James’s shoulder and grinning like a madman.

“It’s settled then,” concurred Remus, very proper indeed, “Peter and I will research a spell that will keep them from getting the robes off, and you and James will research one to make the robes stink!”

“This is going to be so good ,” James said, and Sirius smiled as he was reminded of their first potions class. 

Not that it would have been news to anyone, but Sirius did not pay attention in any of his afternoon classes. He was far too busy researching for the robes prank, which, he felt, was much more important than History of Magic or Transfiguration. Or, at the very least, it was much more interesting. Sirius had always had a knack for mischief. Now, of course, with friends like James and Remus and Peter, it was amplified, but it had never not been there. When he was younger, he was forever doing anything he could to be a nuisance, always doing something like hiding his mothers best silverware or drawing mustaches on all of the portraits. His mother made sure he was punished accordingly, but it never mattered to him. It was like, in some strange way, causing chaos in his external world seemed to lessen the intelligible jumble of anxiety that brewed within him. He was constantly in a state of panic or disarray, and forcing the rest of the world to feel that too almost made him feel normal. All this to say, after last night, Sirius intended to put his heart and soul into this prank, viewing it as a much needed distraction. He had checked out every upper-level charms book he could from Madam Pince and was sitting in the common room after everyone had gone to sleep, taking notes on the most promising spells as the embers from the fire began to die out. The armchair he was snuggled into was entirely too comfortable, but he didn’t want to risk falling asleep without the potions Madam Pomfrey had given him, and they were sitting hidden underneath his bed in the dormitory. He didn’t want to go to sleep, anyhow. He needed to keep researching. He liked feeling like he had something to do (schoolwork didn’t count, obviously, most of his classes were way too easy. This was a challenge). It was as he was rubbing his eyes, willing them to continue to stay open that none other than Lily Evans came pattering down the stairs of the girls dormitory in her pajamas. He groaned internally. Lily was nice enough within the group of Gryffindors, but she was always hanging around Snivellus and then scolding Sirius and James for messing with him. How anybody could be around Snivellus for more than a few minutes and not understand the urge to turn him into a dung beetle, Sirius would never know. She seemed just as surprised to see him awake as he did her, but she didn’t say anything. She took a seat on the chair to the left of him and pulled out a few letters, each with the same, neat, cursive handwriting. She fidgeted with them and stared absentmindedly into the dying flames. Sirius recognized the feeling. 

“Letters from home, then?” He asked, closing his charms book. He had found a new challenge for the night. She kept staring into the fire, but her grip on the papers seemed to tighten slightly. 

“None of your business,” she snapped, but seemed to regret it, because then she sighed and said, “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s okay. I get like that too, sometimes. You know, when people ask about something I’d rather not even be thinking about.” She smiled and looked down at the pile of letters in her lap. They seemed to weigh on her like a boulder. 

“They're from my sister,” she said quietly. Sirius hummed in acknowledgement. 

“I take it she isn’t your biggest fan, then?” Lily just snorted, a sad kind of smile playing on her lips. 

“No, she isn’t. She hasn’t been very kind since the day I got my letter, so it’s nothing entirely new, but it’s just hard to read something so mean from someone who's supposed to love you, I guess.”

“I know how you feel. Do you remember yesterday, at lunch, when I got that letter?”

“The one James read for you?”

“Yeah. That was from my mother. I couldn’t- I couldn’t even open it. So you’re a hell of a lot braver than me, if that’s anything to go on.” She frowned and looked up at him through her lashes. He pretended not to notice the tears in the corners of her eyes. 

“I think I’m just more naive. A part of me hoped that maybe me being gone would lead her to come around– to want to be sisters again. I was stupid to think that.”

“You weren’t,” said Sirius, who was unable to believe that the first person at Hogwarts he was going to talk about his feelings with was Lily Evans, “I get that way, too.” She rested her elbow on the side of her chair and set her head in her hands, her brilliant green eyes boring into Sirius’s own.

“You do?” Sirius just nodded.

“I do. No matter how many times my parent’s tell me that I’m a disgrace, or, or a disappointment or whatever, I still manage to convince myself that they're going to come into my room and hug me or- or say they’re sorry or something. So if you’re naive then I am, too.”

“Huh. Y’know, you’re not so bad, Black,” Lily said, the letters forgotten, if only for a moment, in the crevices of the chair cushions.

“Cheers, Evans. You’re not so bad either.” Sirius found himself realizing, now for the second time, that he was not entirely alone in the world.

Chapter Text

The rest of September seemed to pass very quickly. Sirius, in his persistent research, had found a charm to apply a nasty smell to the robes within the week ( Corporis Halitosis Temporarum ) . He and James then began to help Remus and Peter find a spell that would bind the wearer's clothing to their body, which took longer, but they did manage to figure it out (only after they had accidentally stuck Peter's shoes to his feet for two weeks straight). The spell was evidently very easy to get wrong, and only Remus had managed to master the incantation, which was Servatus Indumentum . The plan was to find wherever the house-elves did laundry, break in, and apply both spells before the robes could be sent back to the Slytherins. At breakfast the next morning, all they would have to do was repeat the Corporis spell once more and things would be set in motion. The four of them were giddy with excitement. Although, Sirius did notice that it seemed Remus was getting increasingly less interested in the prank, or really in anything, as the month drew to a close. In fact, by the morning of September 29th, Remus looked so sickly that Sirius had half a mind to drag him to Madam Pomfrey himself.

“I just don’t see why you won’t go!” Sirius whined, dangling upside down off the foot of Remus’s bed where Remus laid, shivering under the covers with a warm towel pressed against his forehead.

“I told you already,” he croaked out, teeth chattering, “I’m fine. This’ll pass in a day or two.” James groaned from the bathroom, where he and Peter were brushing their teeth. He spit out his toothpaste and walked over to the bed, shoving Sirius off the end (“Oi!”) and sitting down himself. 

“At least stay here and rest instead of going to lessons, Remus,” he said, Sirius nodding in agreement from his spot on the floor, “you’re about as ghostly looking as Nearly Headless Nick.”

“Cheers, mate,” said Remus, but he didn’t seem to agree, because he got out of bed anyway, still shivering, and started brushing his teeth. From the sink next to him, Peter rolled his eyes and spit out his toothpaste.

“Seriously, Remus,” he said, wiping a bit of toothpaste off his lip with a tissue, “we’ve been telling you to just stay in and rest for a week now!”

“And I’ve been telling you lot that I’m perfectly fine for a week now,” Remus contested after spitting out his own toothpaste. Sirius just scoffed, growing steadily annoyed with Remus’s lack of concern over his health. 

“Hurry up and get dressed then if you’re coming,” said Peter, shoving his spellbooks into his bag in a manner so unruly it made Sirius cringe, “I want to get down to the Great Hall before all the good biscuits have gone.”

“All biscuits are good biscuits,” James countered as Remus fished around his drawers for a clean set of robes. Wordlessly, Sirius handed him a set that he had folded the night before. (He had taken to folding clothes for all of the boys– something about the innate tidiness of his upbringing made it very uncomfortable for him to allow his roommates to just shove their clothes into their drawers with no regard for wrinkles). Remus dressed and the four of them made their way out of the dorm and into the common room, where fifth-years Frank Longbottom and Alice Fortescue were snogging on the couch. 

“Eww,” blanched Marlene, who was coming down the stairs of the girls dorm, arm-in-arm with Lily, “we haven’t even had breakfast yet!”

“Too true,” agreed Sirius as the couple pulled apart, red-faced. “If I had any food in me, I would certainly be throwing it up right now.”

“Not that that's stopped you before,” said Frank, smirking. Sirius rolled his eyes. Naturally, he suspected thanks to Peter, all of Gryffindor knew of Sirius’s visit to the hospital wing. Sirius also reckoned it was possible that the information had leaked into other houses as well, as he was, rather unfortunately, quite popular. Everywhere he went he heard whispers of people discussing “ The Black Heir ” and rumors surrounding his family and his Sorting. He tried his very best to ignore all of it, and he especially tried to ignore Slytherin house for fear of running into Bella or Cissa. He had managed not to speak to them at all so far, and he was planning to continue not to for as long as he possibly could. 

“C’mon, then,” said Lily as Dorcas and Mary made their way down, “I’m starving!” 

The group made their way to breakfast and quickly fell into their usual meaningless chatter at the table. Sirius paid very little attention, instead opting to watch Remus pick at his eggs rather than eating them. If Remus noticed him staring, he didn’t say anything about it. Sirius continued to keep an eye on him through Transfiguration, and through Charms, and through Defense Against the Dark Arts. They were learning about dark creatures in the highest classification category when Sirius decided to try talking Remus into seeing Madam Pomfrey again.

“Remus, I can take the notes for you, just go to the hospital wing,” Sirius whispered to him, pleading.

“I’m fine,” Remus hissed back, jotting down the list of creatures on the board. Sirius glanced at his parchment.

“You’ve forgotten the werewolf,” he said. Remus paled, not looking up from his textbook.

“What?”

“The werewolf? It’s on the list of XXXXX creatures. You didn’t write it down,” Sirius confirmed, pointing to the board.

“Oh,” Remus swallowed, “Right. Thanks.” He didn’t add it to his notes. Sirius just shrugged and went back to the assignment. 

Remus was quiet at lunch. He was usually quieter than Sirius and James, but he typically at least laughed at their jokes and joined in on most of the conversations they had. Today was different. He kept spacing out for long periods of time and then blinking back to reality, like he’d forgotten he was an inhabitant of his own body, forgotten he was in control of his own movements. Sirius knew exactly what that felt like. It was very unsettling to be on the other side of things. 

“We still need to find out where the elves do the laundry,” James groaned to Peter, pulling Sirius out of his thoughts. They had been discussing the upcoming prank all day. 

“I know, James,” said Peter, scarfing down a turkey leg, “you’ve said that at least twenty times.”

“So do something about it!” James said dramatically, flopping his head onto the table. Peter rolled his eyes.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Search the castle with me again tonight!” The four of them had been venturing out into the castle at night in search of the elves' workspace. They had found several hidden passageways already, all of which Remus had noted down on a map of the castle. Sirius had done the drawings and scalings for said map, something he was quite proud of.

“No way! I’ve already been caught by filch so many times I’ll be in detention until I'm twenty!”

“I’ll go with you, Jamesy,” said Sirius, patting James on the back, “Even detention with Filch is better than writing my History of Magic essay.”

“This is why you’re my favorite.”

“Hey!” exclaimed Peter and Remus in unison.

After classes had finished, Remus seemed suddenly very open to the idea of seeing Madam Pomfrey. In fact, it felt like he began gathering his things as soon as they returned to the dormitory. Sirius was obviously pleased that Remus had finally decided to care about his health, but the sudden change in demeanor was cause for suspicion. 

“Why now ?” he asked, as he had opted to walk Remus down to the hospital wing. James and Peter had stayed behind to catch up on Charms, something Sirius was very ahead in after all his research for the prank. Remus shrugged, not making eye contact with him. Sirius furrowed his brows. 

“Just decided it might be best for me to get some proper rest after all,” Remus replied simply. He was lying. Sirius was positive he was lying. Sirius was raised in the Most Noble and Ancient House of Liars and therefore knew a liar when he saw one. He could tell from the way Remus’s eyes were locked onto the floor, the way his shoulders hunched over as he walked, the way his speech became breathy and his demeanor distant. Also, Remus had the particularly helpful habit of picking at the skin on his lips when he lied. 

“You aren’t telling me the truth,” Sirius said plainly, because he wasn’t. 

“Of course I am,” replied Remus, too quickly. His pace picked up as they descended a staircase. Sirius sped up, matching it. 

“No, you aren’t. Why?” He questioned, grabbing Remus gently by the arm and turning him. They stood like that in the hall for a few moments, silently, trying to read each other. Remus swallowed, his eyes boring into Sirius’s own, screaming please don’t make me say it . Sirius thought about what his mother would do if she knew that someone was keeping something from her. He decided to relent, if only for one night. “Fine,” he said, “I’ll stop asking.” They walked the rest of the way in silence, Sirius keeping true to his word, but both of them knew he would stop at nothing until he figured out exactly what was going on.

By nightfall, James and Sirius sat shoulder-to-shoulder in the largest armchair watching Dorcas lose spectacularly to Peter at chess while Marlene, Mary, and Lily played gobstones. 

“Do you want to join in, Sirius?” asked Lily, setting up a new board after Marlene had won the first game.

“Oi! Why can’t I play?” argued James, offended. Lily rolled her eyes and continued to set up the board.

“Because I don’t like you,” she deadpanned, very matter-of-fact. James gasped, putting his hand over his heart dramatically.

“How rude,” he said jokingly, but Sirius could see the hurt in his eyes, “Why ever not?”

“Because you bully Severus!”

“Sirius messes with Sniv- with Severus just as much as I do!” he countered. Lily scoffed.

“You’re also incredibly arrogant.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not !”

“Why don’t we all head to bed?” interrupted Marlene awkwardly, pulling an almost growling Lily toward the steps of the girls dormitory. 

“Yeah,” said Sirius, standing up and pulling James to do so with him, “tensions are running a bit high.” James crossed his arms and glared at Lily, who flipped him a very rude hand gesture. They both huffed, turning around and stomping up the stairs to their respective dorms. Peter quickly followed James, and Dorcas Lily. Sirius ran a hand through his hair as Mary and Marlene cleaned up the gobstones game. 

“Why does she hate him so much?” he asked them once he was sure both James and Lily were out of earshot. Mary just shrugged, collecting the stones into a small tin.

“We’ve asked her about a million times, but it seems to put her in a very sour mood, so we just stopped trying,” she explained. Marlene nodded from behind her, looking almost frightened.

“Once I invited her to come watch a Quidditch practice with him and I and she nearly set me on fire.” Sirius just blanched, helping them finish cleaning up the game before bidding them goodnight and making his way to the dorm. He made a note in his mind not to bring up James to Lily if he could help it. When he entered the dorm, Peter was somehow already asleep, and James was laying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sirius took a seat beside him. 

“I’m not arrogant, am I?” James asked, voice quiet. 

“No, mate,” said Sirius, shaking his head softly, “she just doesn’t know you. If she did– if she did, she would see what the rest of us do.”

“What’s that?”

“That you’re the best friend any of us could have ever asked for.”

“You’re such a nancy,” laughed James, but his frown lessened significantly. Sirius just smiled. 

“Yeah, but only for you guys.”

The two boys waited like that for a while, lounging in James’s bed and talking each other's ears off until they were certain the castle was asleep. Only then did they slip down the stairs and out of the common room, the welcome fire of adventure brewing in their stomachs. This, Sirius reckoned as he tip-toed through the dark castle with his best mate, stifling their laughter for fear of being caught, was surely the only way to live. After some time, they heard a faint meowing ahead of them. James grabbed Sirius by the shoulder, pulling him into a hidden nook behind a large tapestry they had found in their second week. They watched as Mrs. Norris pattered by, red eyes glowing like lamps in the dark corridor. After they had recovered from that scare, Sirius pulled out the half-finished map and studied it by his wandlight. 

“I say we start by the Great Hall,” Sirius whispered, furrowing his brows in concentration, “we’ve already searched the dungeons and all of the taller towers.”

“Yes, I suppose we ought to fill in the middle of the map a bit more,” James agreed, “we still haven’t found Hufflepuffs common room. I’ll bet you anything it’s near the elves' workspace– Professor Sprout is so friendly with them.” Sirius nodded, folding up the map and tucking it safely into his robes before following James down to the Great Hall. They were in the corridor where Sirius had learned about the contents of his parents' letter when they froze. They could hear footsteps getting steadily closer. Filch. They ran, blindly turning corners and descending down several staircases until they were sure they were far enough away. James panted, leaning against a large painting of a fruit bowl and trying to catch his breath. Sirius swore he heard someone giggling, but before he had time to say anything about it, the painting swung open to reveal something magnificent hidden behind it. The kitchens. It was glorious. James and Sirius stepped inside tediously, gawking at the huge, stone ceilings and roaring fireplaces. There were house elves moving in every direction, carrying heaps of food that smelled so delicious Sirius was quite sure he was dreaming. 

“Bloody hell ,” muttered James, blinking furiously as though he, too, was unsure if he was imagining things. Just then, Sirius felt something pulling on his robes, and he looked down to meet the eye of a delighted looking house elf with very large ears and bright, blue eyes. 

“Good evening, Young Masters,” bowed the elf, her voice almost endearingly squeaky. “My name is Tibbles!” James beamed, kneeling down to meet Tibbles’ eyeline and shaking her hand. This demonstration reminded Sirius fleetingly of his brother and Kreacher, although Tibbles appeared entirely more pleasant than Kreacher had ever been.

“Hello! My name is James Potter and this is Sirius Black. It’s very lovely to meet you!” James said kindly, the poster child of charm. Tibbles blushed furiously, grabbing James’s hand and leading him over to a small table by the fireplace. Sirius followed, and Tibbles gestured for the two of them to sit down on the wooden stools. They complied, albeit uncomfortably. The stools were obviously made to be table seats for the elves, who were notably much smaller than the two pre-teen boys. 

“How can Tibbles be of service, Master Potter and Master Black? Is either of you wanting a midnight snack?”

“There’s no need to call either of us Master, Tibbles! James and Sirius will do just fine,” said James, which had Sirius nodding in agreement. He was not a fan of formalities. They reminded him too much of home. Tibbles blushed again, nodding her head. 

“Tibbles is very flattered by your kindness! Would you like to try a blueberry scone? They are going to be served at breakfast tomorrow!”

“Yes, please,” said Sirius, the aroma of the food all around him making him suddenly very hungry. Tibbles bowed low and scurried off to make their plates. The boys turned to each other, grinning.

“Oh my GOD ,” exclaimed James, “there is no way this is happening. Is this happening?”

“If it is,” Sirius said, eyes still flicking around the room, trying to soak it all in, “then Peter is going to be properly pissed he didn’t come with us.” James laughed, loud and bright, his eyes crinkled in the pure joy that came along with discovering something new. Sirius was mesmerized by how much space a laugh could take up. At how much space James could take up without even trying– without even realizing. Tibbles came back a few moments later, carrying a huge tray of goodies in her little hands. On it were not only the blueberry scones, but eclairs, jam doughnuts, fizzing whizbees, and a number of other things Sirius had never even seen before. Tibbles worked quietly, conjuring two golden plates and goblets for them and giving them each a bit of everything before filling their glasses with pumpkin juice. Sirius just gaped in appreciation. Kreacher had never been so kind to him– in fact Sirius was quite sure that Kreacher spit in his food more often than he would like to imagine. 

“Is there anything else you is needing?” Tibbles asked, looking at them in such a way that made it clear she was thoroughly enjoying being able to serve them. 

“No thank you, Tibbles,” said James kindly, which led Tibbles to blush yet again, “we appreciate this very much!” Tibbles bowed and scurried off to join the rest of the elves as James and Sirius dug into their plates. After a few minutes of silence as the boys tried a bit of all their sweets, James groaned, leaning back in his stool. “I miss my old house-elf so much ,” he said, rubbing his very full stomach. Sirius paused, picturing the heads of all the fired house elves hanging on the wall in the home of his Great Aunt Casseopia. He shuddered.

“What happened to them?” He asked, very curious to know more about the Potters. He had long since dropped the notion that James’s parents were at all like his own, considering the way he talked about them and the letters they sent him and the care packages Sirius himself had received just for being James’s friend. However, he still found it difficult to picture a pureblood family that was capable of kindness just for the sake of being kind. Since meeting James, Sirius has tried many times to picture in his mind a mother who kissed his forehead instead of kicking his feet out from under him, or a father whose hands had never been covered in his blood. He never could imagine it just right. 

“She had been hinting for a while that she wanted to travel the world and explore,” explained James nonchalantly, “and she had served our family for so long, so my mother surprised her with a dress sewn just for her on her birthday one morning. She was so happy, jumping up and down like a chocolate frog,” he laughed, “and she still visits us and brings us souvenirs all the time.” Sirius considered this. If Kreacher had suggested he wanted to stop serving House Black, Mother would probably skin him alive. He opted not to say this aloud considering the present company.

“Huh,” was all he said, pushing his plate away. Thinking about the differences between Mrs. Potter and his own mother had caused him to lose his appetite. James didn’t notice his shift in mood, downing his goblet of pumpkin juice and belching loudly. 

“Tibbles?” He called once he had finished his plate, causing the elf to promptly scamper over, “can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Master Potter! Er- James,” she corrected herself. James just smiled softly.

“I was wondering where it is you all do the laundry? Do you think you could show us?” Sirius bit back a smirk. He was laying on that James Potter charm thick. Tibbles looked a little confused, but she nodded anyway and grabbed James by the hand.

“Follow me!” She squeaked, and so they did. She led them to the back of the kitchens and through a stone doorway, which housed several elves magically cleaning and folding robes in every direction. There seemed to be four different sections of elves, one section for each house. That would make things very easy when it came time to sabotage the Slytherins. James seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he turned to Sirius and winked at him, grinning from ear to ear. They ventured back into the kitchens and bid Tibbles goodbye, thanking her for her hospitality. She told them that they were welcome to come back anytime– all they would need to do was tickle the pear on the painting of the fruit bowl and the entryway would appear. Sirius noted this down onto the map after they left, and sometime later the two boys found themselves staring blankly at their ceilings in bed, still high on the adrenaline of adventure. 

The following morning, Peter was incessantly badgering them to tell him what had happened the night before. 

“You both slept in so late! I know it's Saturday, but waking at lunchtime is crazy even for you guys,” he said to them as they sat down to eat in the Great Hall. Remus was presumably still in the hospital wing. James just shrugged, biting his lips to stop them from spilling out the details of their escapade. The two had agreed to tell Peter and Remus together about their discovery. James had been fine telling Peter as soon as they woke up, but Sirius didn’t want Remus to feel left out. 

“We’ll explain it to you when Remus is here,” Sirius replied, ever so diplomatically. The topic of Remus’s mysterious ailment was still a sore one for him. 

“If he doesn’t turn up soon, I say we go and visit him,” added James through a mouthful of roast chicken. Sirius thought this was a wonderful idea. He was determined to figure out why Remus was lying. He felt guilty about his inherent nosiness, but he was a Black, so it was kind of part of the deal of having him as a friend. 

“Good idea,” agreed Sirius, “why don’t we go after lunch?”

And so they did. They even made Remus a plate to bring to him, as Sirius knew firsthand that the food in the hospital wing was nowhere near as delicious as in the Great Hall. They entered loudly, as they did most things, play-fighting with each other and laughing brazenly. It was only when they got to a sleeping Remus’s bedside that they fell silent. It was not at all what they had been expecting. He looked dreadful, bloodied bandages wrapping around his torso and   broken arms and a new, large scar etched over the bridge of his nose. Madam Pomfrey must have noticed them huddled around Remus, gawking at their very broken friend, because she ran over and closed the curtains around his bed within just a few moments of their arrival. It had only been a glance, yes, but they had seen enough. She did not explain what had happened no matter how many times they asked, merely thanking them for bringing him lunch before shooing them out of the wing. They stood silently in the hall for a couple seconds before James and Peter started to try and rationalize what it was they had just seen.

“I thought he was just sickly,” gasped Peter, a hand over his mouth, “what the bloody hell happened?”

“I don’t know,” said James quietly, shaking his head and pale with worry, “It looked as though he’d been attacked or something.”

“How could he have been attacked if he was in the hospital wing?” asked Peter, an eyebrow raised, “Madam Pomfrey watches it like a hawk.”

“I’ve no idea, but he sure as hell didn’t do that to himself!”

“Maybe it was one of the Slytherins? Snivellus? Remus does come up with most of our prank ideas,” Peter attributed.

“Yes, but nobody knows that– if they were going to retaliate like this, why not hurt me or Sirius?”

“I don’t know– but it looked bad. What do you think, Sirius?” 

Sirius didn’t respond. He was still picturing Remus in his mind over and over again: bloodied and broken. It was hard to stomach for several reasons. Perhaps it was very selfish of him, but his first thought before Madam Pomfrey had closed the curtain was of himself. He had been like that before. He had been worse than that before. Is that what Regulus had to bear witness to? Those times they made him count the lashes— is that what he saw? How did he bear it? The sunken eyes and the blotched skin and the broken bones and- and- Sirius had to grip onto the wall to stop himself from throwing up again. Sirius knew what it was like to be hurt. He hadn’t considered how impossible it was on the other side of things. Whoever had done that to Remus was going to have hell to pay. 

“Sirius?” Peter repeated, pulling him out of his trance.

“Are you good, mate?” James asked, putting an arm on his shoulder. Sirius flinched backward. All of them pretended not to notice. 

“I’m fine. I just don’t like blood. I’m going to go get some fresh air,” he mumbled before stalking off to the lake. He willed them not to follow him. They didn’t.

Sirius stayed outside for a long time. The sun had set, and he watched the Giant Squid swim around and rested his back against a large oak tree and closed his eyes. All he could see was Remus’s battered body. He opened them again. Despite his best efforts, he kept picturing how Remus had gotten like that. A forceful shove to the ground would explain the bruising. His wind would’ve been knocked out of him. Before he could steady and defend himself, a hard kick in the ribs. To the face. He would be on the ground. A twisting of his arm behind his back until the sickening crack reverberated in the air. More kicks. Punches. Blows upon blows upon blows. And then the spells would start. Perhaps his attacker knew that the sting of magical pain was more effective after the body was already weakened. He would be writhing on the ground, begging for it to stop- but it wouldn’t stop, it wouldn’t stop, because it never fucking stops - and suddenly Sirius was hyperventilating and he couldn’t fucking breathe and he was in his fathers office cowering under his mothers wand and he could hear himself screaming and he could hear Reg sobbing and-

“Sirius?” It was Lily Evans who sat down next to him. She was looking at him curiously. He wiped his eyes. Mother didn’t like it when he cried. 

“Hm?” was all he managed to respond. He was bracing himself for her to ask him what he was doing out here, or why he looked like he had been crying, or what was wrong, or, or something , but instead she just scooted closer to him, her shoulder against his, and opened her book. She didn’t say anything else. She just started reading. He blinked at her. “Aren’t you going to- to-”

“To what?” she inquired, not looking up from the page she was reading. Her hair fell in front of her eye and she brushed it away, tucking it behind her ear. 

“To ask me why I was, uhm,” Sirius began.

“Staring out into space like a soldier reminiscing war?” she finished for him, “I’d assumed you didn’t want to talk about it.” She finally looked up at him, knitting her brows together, her green eyes flicking across his features, and she reminded him, for a moment, of James. 

“I don’t, but…” he began, but he wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. He was accustomed to being forced to share things he didn’t want to. His family were not keen on being out-of-the loop on anything, and his mother happened to be a particularly skilled Legilimens.

“I’m not going to make you talk about it, Black,” she told him, smiling softly, “I just thought you could use some quiet company. Like you gave me that night in the common room after I got those letters.” 

“Oh,” Sirius said. He wasn’t sure how to respond. Something warm stirred in his chest. Company. She bumped his shoulder gently and went back to her book. Sirius looked back out into the lake. Quiet company was nice. They stayed like that for some time more before it was curfew, and Lily Evans, being the goody-two-shoes she was, convinced him to finally go back inside. 

Sirius wasn’t sure what he was expecting inside as they climbed through the portrait hole to the common room, but it definitely wasn’t what he saw. Remus Lupin sitting with a book in his lap on the large armchair, the only clue as to his state only hours before the scar across the bridge of his nose. James and Peter were playing chess together as if nothing was amiss. Sirius marched over to them as Lily went up the stairs to her dorm.

“What- How?” He stammered out, mind reeling. James glanced up at him, looking relieved.

“Sirius!” He said, standing, “we were just about to go and get you– you were out there for so long!” Sirius ignored this, just looking over at the very much so uninjured Remus, dumbfounded. Remus looked up from his book and shot him a quick grin.

“Someone hexed me in the hall after you left me,” he explained, picking at the skin of his lip, “I didn’t see who it was, but Madam Pomfrey was nearby and she fixed me up.” He looked back down at his book, as if this explained everything. It didn’t. Peter and James both seemed content with this explanation. This frustrated Sirius to no end. Remus was very badly hurt by somebody, and he was lying to cover it up. He was lying about so many things and it was like nobody even noticed it except Sirius. He scoffed, stomping up the stairs to the dormitory and slamming the door behind him. He sat down on his bed, untying the laces of his shoes and grumbling to himself. He had sat outside for literal hours worrying about Remus and he just turns up perfectly fine all the sudden? There was no way those kinds of injuries could’ve been caused by a simple hex– not the kind that any of the students at Hogwarts would know, anyways. Well, except maybe Bella, but Sirius highly doubted Remus was anywhere on her radar. And the way he explained it– saying “ after you left me ,” like it was Sirius’s fault? It wasn’t his fault. It couldn’t have been. Right? He threw his shoes on the ground and flopped backwards onto the bed. Today was objectively very suckish. He intended to sulk dramatically for the rest of the evening like the true Black he was. There was, however, a flaw in that plan, and his name was Remus Lupin. He opened the door just after Sirius had finished putting on his pajamas, nodded at him, and sat down on his own bed. Sirius fought against an eye roll, instead handing Remus a pair of freshly folded pajamas in a very passive aggressive manner. Remus just muttered a “thank you” and stepped into the bathroom to change. He always changed in the bathroom. It was kind of annoying. Sirius, James, and Peter had no sense for privacy amongst each other, it often felt to Sirius like the others were just an extension of himself. Remus always maintained a degree of separation. Perhaps he thought he was too good for them. Merlin's Beard, he was frustrating. Remus returned moments later, dawning his usual brown sleep jumper. Sirius bit back a smirk, remembering the night he was sick fondly before realizing he was supposed to be angry. Again. Remus was very frustrating. Even more annoyingly, instead of sitting down on his own bed, Remus made himself comfortable on Sirius’s. Sirius raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Well, come and sit then,” said Remus, patting the space next to him. Sirius obliged. 

“You lied, earlier, didn’t you?” Sirius asked bluntly. Remus laid back, his feet still dangling off the edge of the mattress.

“Yes,” he responded quietly, “I did. Please don’t tell the others.” Sirius frowned, copying Remus’s position and lying down next to him. He hadn’t expected him to admit it that quickly.

“What’s the truth, then?”

“I can’t tell you that,” replied Remus apologetically. Sirius groaned, hands over his face.

“Why not?” He questioned. Remus just looked at the bed curtains in thought for a few moments. 

“You have secrets, too, you know.”

“I do not!”

A beat, and then,

“You never told me about one of your scars.”

“What?”

“That day, in the hospital wing? When I told you about my hummingbird scar? You were supposed to tell me about one of yours.” Sirius bit his lip. He had been hoping Remus had forgotten that. He didn’t have any funny scars. They were all just painful memories. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, turning to face Remus. The scar over the bridge of his nose suited him. 

“It’s okay. You’ll tell me when you’re ready. I know it doesn’t mean that you don’t trust me.” Sirius frowned. Remus was drawing a parallel. Frustrating git. Remus smirked, sitting up and patting Sirius on the knee. “We done with this?” He asked.

“For now,” relented Sirius. Remus Lupin was an enigma. 

Chapter Text

Looking back, Sirius wished he had relished more in the last few months of 1971. If he were to compile a list of all of the things he did from October to December, everything on it would fall under two main categories: Mischief or Brooding. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly complex, he was able to do both things at once.

For example, at the end of the first week of October, the boys finally showed Peter and Remus their discovery of the Kitchens and Laundry room, and proceeded to conduct their robes prank on the Slytherins (which would later go on to be known as Smelly Slytherin Day , which Sirius thought was a bit juvenile, but also quite hilarious). He, along with the rest of the boys, were feeling incredibly mischievous as they watched the entirety of Slytherin House fall into chaos, gagging over each other's smells and raging at the fact that they were unable to remove their robes to even have a shower. All four of them were in the library, working on their essays for Transfiguration, and laughing to themselves about just how splendidly everything was going. Remus nudged his shoulder and pointed across the room, Sirius following his gaze and immediately putting his fist over his mouth to suppress laughter as he watched Snape arguing with Mulicber and Avery, presumably about which of the three of them was the source of the stench. Snape met his eye, and Sirius quickly looked down, pretending to read something from his coursebook, but it was a bit too late. He had seen Sirius watching, and there was no doubt that the pieces of the puzzle were starting to click into place in his greasy little head. 

Sirius had rather expected Snape to come trudging over and start throwing hexes at the four of them right then, but instead, he put his books away and walked out of the library quickly, looking absolutely murderous as his robes swept behind him. Avery and Mulciber continued arguing, seemingly none the wiser. It left Sirius feeling a bit uneasy, but he ignored it. Snape couldn’t prove anything just from a look. He went back to his Transfiguration Essay, listening absentmindedly to James correcting Peter's work and subsequently adjusting his own. Remus, of course, had finished all of his homework in advance, and was reading some sort of Muggle book. Sirius, who was far more interested in Remus than he was in Transfiguration, set down his quill and glanced at the cover of the novel. It was titled “ The Outsiders ”. He glanced up at Remus’s face, whose brows were furrowed in concentration, and had the fleeting thought that his freckles looked so much like the constellations he observed out of his window each night. Remus seemed to notice Sirius staring, lost in thought, tracing the freckles with his eyes, because he turned to him, an eyebrow raised. 

“Yes?” Remus asked, a hint of humor laced in his voice. Sirius’s face went bright red, but neither of them said anything about it.

“What’s that book you’re reading?” Sirius deflected, tearing his eyes away from Remus’s face and settling them onto the frayed pages of his book. He had obviously read it several times. Remus noticeably perked up at this, dog-earring the page he was on and closing it so Sirius could get a better look at the cover. He handed it to him, and Sirius examined it with genuine interest.

“Oh, it’s called The Outsiders!” Remus explained excitedly, “It’s really very interesting. It’s about this kid, Ponyboy-”

“Ponyboy ? That’s his name ?”

“Mate. Your name is quite literally Sirius,” Remus deadpanned. Sirius considered this.

“Fair point. Carry on,” he relented. Remus laughed. It wasn’t bright and sunny like James’s, but it sounded almost like a soft melody, a lullaby. It was quite soothing. Sirius ignored this thought as Remus continued to explain the premise of the novel, which did actually sound quite intriguing.

“It’s really very good,” Remus finished excitedly, “you can borrow my copy when I’m done with it, if you’d like?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever read a muggle book before,” Sirius mused, “It would drive my parents crazy to know that I had.”

“Oh. Well, you don’t have to-”

“I’ll read it,” he concluded. Remus beamed, and Sirius went back to his essay. 

Sirius continued to feel nothing but happy and mischievous until lunch. James, who always seemed to forget something, had left his coursebook in the library, and because Sirius was such a perfect best friend, he offered to go with him to retrieve it. He would later go on to really wish he hadn’t, because the two of them physically ran into none other than Bellatrix and Narcissa Black on their way back to the Great Hall. Of course they did, because nothing had ever gone right for Sirius since the day he was born. 

Sirius considered himself to be a particularly brave person, but even when he was younger, Bellatrix was always an exception. It was no secret to anyone that the Black family was considerably insane, and Sirius was rather unfortunately quite used to this fact, but Bellatrix was on an entirely different level. His father and mother were both icy and cold, their gazes hardened and their words blunt in their cruelty. The majority of his cousins were similar in this way– giving nothing away behind their callous eyes other than a sort of stony indifference. Even Andromeda, who always had been and always will be his favorite of his cousins, was very difficult to read. In a way, this indifference made him comfortable. He knew what to expect when he glanced up at Narcissa, her lips pressed into a thin line and her eyes narrowed. Anger. He was used to anger. He could handle anger. But when he turned to Bellatrix, her dark curls as dangerous and unruly as the rest of her, he did not find anger melded into her features. He found excitement. He gulped, sucking in a deep breath. An excited Bellatrix never meant good things. He backed up slightly, pulling James along with him and never taking his eyes off her for even a moment. Too dangerous. 

James, apparently, had a death wish. “Excuse us, girls,” he said brightly as he pulled his hand from Sirius’s grip, clearly not understanding just who he was talking to, “but if we could just get around you-” James sidestepped, trying to push past Narcissa and continue making his way into the Great Hall. If Sirius wasn’t frozen in place, he would have certainly smacked James upside the head for his immense stupidity. 

Bellatrix laughed. Well, maybe laughed wasn’t particularly the right word, she never really laughed, but she did cackle. She grabbed James by the back of his robes, pulling him back into place and shoving him back against Sirius, who caught and steadied him. Sirius proceeded to step in front of James, taking a protective stance that he tried very hard not to let himself be reminded of his dynamic with Regulus by. James was clearly not a fan of this, and he tried to get out from behind him, but Sirius whirled around to face him, hissing in his ear, “ Don’t you dare .” James, albeit clearly confused, seemed to understand that there was a particularly large gravity to the situation, and promptly shut his mouth. Sirius turned back around to face Bellatrix yet again. She raised an eyebrow at him, her wand peeking out from her robe sleeve. He suppressed a shudder. “Uhm, hello cousins,” he stuttered out, quite stupidly, “sorry to bother you, we’ll just be out of your way-”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Bellatrix coldly, her heels clicking against the tile of the floor as she inched toward them, “It’s actually quite helpful that we ran into you.” At this, Sirius glanced at Narcissa, hoping to aid in some of his panicked confusion, but as usual she gave nothing away. 

“Hm?” He uttered, sounding much more put together than he felt, “why is that?” Bellatrix just smiled, pulling out her wand and twirling it around her fingers. She looked to Narcissa, who did not smile at all. 

“You see,” said Narcissa, crossing her arms and lifting her chin as if she caught a whiff of something nasty, “Slytherin House has found ourselves in a bit of a predicament today.” Sirius gulped, and James tensed slightly behind him.

“Oh?” Sirius said, trying very desperately not to give anything away, “Have you?” Narcissa glared further at this.

“We have,” agreed Bellatrix, “You see, we can’t seem to get rid of this stench on all of our robes.”

“Have you tried showering?” Sirius said, before he could think any better of it. He came very close to slapping his hand over his mouth. Damn his perfectly witty sense of humor. James chuckled from behind him.

“Fix it.” Narcissa told them. It was not a request. 

“We would,” spoke James, tearing himself out from behind Sirius to stand at his side, “but unfortunately we have no idea how you’ve gotten yourself into your little predicament in the first place.” He had clearly had enough of letting Sirius try to protect him. Idiot. Bellatrix flicked her gaze over to James, considering him. She seemed intrigued. Sirius suddenly had an intense urge to focus all of her attention onto himself.

“Yes,” he said, internally cursing himself for what he was about to say, “perhaps the revolting personalities each of you dawn have just decided to take a physical form by means of smell? Really, Bella, it wouldn’t be the first time people begin to gag when you walk into a room.”

Bellatrix had clearly had enough. She shoved James to the side, pushing Sirius up against the wall and pressing her wand into the side of his neck. He didn’t flinch. He wasn’t scared. She had pushed James to the side. He was safely on the floor, rubbing his shoulder. She pushed the wood of her wand further into his neck. He could feel the magic buzzing angrily. 

“You’ll regret that, cousin,” she whispered to him, her voice soft and dangerous all at once. He fought the urge to gag. She really did smell awful. He closed his eyes, tensing himself in preparation for a magical blow. It didn’t come. Narcissa had been staring curiously at James. Suddenly, she pulled Bellatrix off of Sirius, whispering something in her ear. Sirius stayed pressed up against the wall, locking eyes with James and willing him not to draw any more attention to himself. James stood up, and Sirius tensed, but neither of them said anything, only watched as Bellatrix and Narcissa whispered to each other furiously. Finally, Bellatrix pulled away from Narcissa and smiled. Sirius really would have preferred she hexed him, because her smile was incredibly terrifying. She walked back over to him and whispered in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine, “I wonder what your mother and father would think about you hanging around a Potter? Playing ridiculous tricks on Slytherin house?” Her voice was laced with venom, “why don’t I go find out?” She cackled again, grabbing Narcissa’s hand and skipping off like she was just a schoolgirl and not some sort of demon from the pits of hell. 

Once they had gone, Sirius finally drew out a shaky breath and stepped toward James, who was looking at him anxiously. “What the fuck was that?” James questioned, running a nervous hand through his hair, “those were your cousins ?” 

Sirius merely nodded, laughing slightly at the ridiculousness of it all. James hadn’t heard, but Sirius most certainly had. Bellatrix was going to tell his parents that he had befriended a Potter. That he had been causing trouble for the Slytherins. His outlook on this upcoming Christmas just seemed to be getting worse and worse by the day. 

“What did she say to you?” James asked, picking up his bag from where it had landed on the ground in the midst of everything. Sirius fought the urge to bite his nails. He had come to really love James, to really love all of them, and he didn’t want James to think that he might be the reason behind some of Sirius’s punishments when he got home. James didn’t deserve to have to carry that burden. 

“Just that she wasn’t finished with the conversation,” Sirius shrugged, hoping that he was keeping his expression neutral. His anxiety was building steadily. He wished he hadn’t run out of dreamless sleep potions— Madam Pomfrey said she could only give him a small amount each month so he wouldn’t become addicted to them. “My family is very… intense,” he added sheepishly. 

“Yeah, I picked up on that,” laughed James as they finally resumed their trek back into the Great Hall, “I wonder how they knew it was us who tampered with the robes?” he questioned as they pushed open the doors. Sirius pondered this for a few moments, but it was only after they joined the rest of Gryffindor and sat down that he remembered Snape’s curious behavior in the library.

“Snivellus!” Exclaimed Sirius, interrupting James who had been explaining the encounter with his cousins to Remus and Peter. “I saw him watching us earlier in the library, he must have realized it was us and then told my cousins. Prick.” 

“Oh he is so annoying!” cried James, popping a couple of grapes into his mouth, “but it doesn’t seem like anything too terrible came of it. Honestly, the way Bellatrix was looking at you, I didn’t expect her to let us off that easily.” 

Sirius forced out a laugh, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Peter and James fell into their usual chatter, but it didn’t seem like Remus was fooled. Neither of them were really any good at lying when it came to the other, Sirius supposed. Maybe they were just too similar. Remus scooted closer to him, lowering his voice. “More happened than James realized, didn’t it?” Remus asked softly, making Sirius’s plate as well as his own. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” replied Sirius, rather unconvincingly. If Remus wasn’t going to share his secret, Sirius was not inclined to divulge any of his own. Remus just looked up at him, smirking. His new scar glistened in the light of the hall. Sirius wondered how many new scars he himself would be coming back to Hogwarts with after break. 

“I see right through you, Black,” he said, pushing Sirius’s plate toward him and starting to eat from his own, “but I get it. I won’t ask. Just know that you can talk to me.” Remus said this so simply, like he had no idea how much weight his words held. Sirius yearned to tell him, of course. He wanted to scream about his life at home from the rooftops sometimes, just to stop keeping it all so bottled up, but it was just so impossible. He didn’t want to transfer his burden onto anyone else, especially not onto his friends. He just couldn’t do that to them. It was the same reason he tried so hard not to scream when he knew Regulus was near. It was his pain to suffer alone. He just couldn’t fathom putting that kind of mental torment onto anyone else. He didn’t say anything back to Remus, opting instead to start eating. Remus didn’t seem to mind Sirius’s silence. He never did. 

Sirius was in a very sour mood until the four boys had finished dinner. He was fully intending to sulk in the dormitory for the remainder of the evening, but as the boys were making their way through the halls, James suddenly gasped, pulling all of them behind a knight statue and shushing them. Peter opened his mouth to question this, but James just put his hand over it, shushing him louder. 

“It’s Snivellus!” He whispered excitedly, finally letting Peter’s face go and peering over the statue as though he was making absolutely sure of his discovery. “Let’s get him back for ratting us out to your cousins, Sirius!” He turned to Sirius, that adventurous fire burning in his eyes, and Sirius naturally relented immediately. He liked mischief much better than brooding. 

“What are we going to do?” asked Peter. Naturally, he was ready to agree to anything James suggested. James opened his mouth, probably about to suggest something very extreme, but Remus interrupted him.

“Why don’t we just confront him?” Remus said, looking at Snape in anger. Remus wasn’t usually one to get very angry. It was actually rather unsettling. 

“What?” asked Peter, very confused, but Remus just pushed past all of them, making a beeline for Snape, who was sitting on a window ledge, reading. 

“Severus.” Said Remus, standing in front of Snape with his arms crossed. Sirius, James, and Peter all stood behind Remus like a kind of protective bubble. Snape looked up from his book, closing it, and regarded Remus with a dry, bored kind of expression. 

“Is there something you need?” Asked Severus, standing to mirror Remus, but he was much shorter. It was kind of a funny visual, actually. “I’m a bit preoccupied trying to find a counter-spell thanks to you and your little group of marauders.”

“That actually has kind of a nice ring to it… marauders,” James whispered to Sirius, who nodded in agreement. 

“I’m not surprised that no one in Slytherin has managed to find a simple counter-curse yet,” jeered Sirius, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t think I’ve met one intelligent Slytherin since I’ve gotten here.” Remus, Peter, and James all laughed, but Snape turned to Sirius, narrowing his eyes and turning up his chin. He took a step toward him, and Sirius could smell the hex wafting off his robes. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Snape menacingly, “you’d be surprised at what some Slytherins are capable of.” He eyed Sirius for a moment, scoffing. “Well, maybe your little friends would be surprised. But you wouldn’t, would you Sirius? Narcissa thanked me for my heads up earlier today. It seems someones going to be in trouble with Mummy and Daddy when they get home.” Sirius swallowed. He wanted very badly to punch Snape directly in his big mouth, but it appeared that Remus also had this urge, because he did it first. Much to everyone's surprise, especially Snape’s, Remus socked Severus right in the nose, and a sickening crack reverberated around the hall. Snape fell to the floor, holding his nose in his hands, blood seeping through the cracks of his fingers. James and Peter both gasped, but Sirius was rather frozen. Remus walked closer to Snape, who was backing away, still on the floor. 

“You are a pathetic little man who makes other people fight your battles for you. You are a coward and a close-minded bag of dung. Keep Sirius’s name out of your filthy mouth,” spit out Remus, before he promptly turned on his heel and continued toward the common room. Shocked at his outburst, the rest of the boys followed suit, leaving a very dumbfounded Severus in their wake. Well, they confronted him all right. 

Sirius’s head was still buzzing as they made their way through the portrait hole and into the common room. They all sat down around the fireplace, and once comfortable, James shot into conversation.

“What was that, Remus?” He asked, jittering with adrenaline. Remus just shrugged at him wordlessly, but James didn’t seem satisfied by this response. “No, actually, I’ve never seen you that mad before!”

“He just got on my nerves,” was all Remus had to offer.

“But… Remus, mate, you punched him in the face!” Peter stammered out, shocked as the rest of them at Remus’s outburst, “I mean, not that one of us wasn’t bound to do it at some point, the way he was going on, but I don’t think anybody thought it would be you.”

“I just… bringing Sirius’s family into it was low,” responded Remus, carefully not looking up from his book, which he wasn’t even really reading. James and Peter instinctively glanced over to Sirius at this, but he quickly averted their gazes. He felt rather frozen again for a moment.

"That's why you hit him?” burst out Sirius, “because- because he brought up my family? That’s so stupid, Remus! I’m not some little girl in need of defending!” 

“I never said that you were,” replied Remus calmly, still not looking up from his book. It drove Sirius mad. 

“Well, you sure acted like it! If I had a problem with what Snape said– which, by the way, I really don’t, because my family isn’t a big deal and I don’t know why you would think that they are,” Sirius ranted angrily, “then I would have handled it! It’s like you said to him– don’t- don’t make me into someone who has other people fight my battles for me.” Remus finally looked at Sirius, his expression rather unreadable.

“C’mon, Sirius,” said James, looking at him like he was a bomb about to explode, “he was only trying to help-”

“Well I didn’t need help!” spat Sirius, glaring at Remus. He sprung up from his armchair and stomped up the stairs to the dormitory, slamming the door behind him. He tried not to picture the hurt look on Remus’s face he’d caught a glance of at the last second.  

Sirius threw himself onto his bed dramatically, kicking off his shoes and groaning into his pillow. Remus Lupin was perhaps the most complicated, frustrating, mind-bendingly annoying person on the planet. He had no right to be offended on Sirius’s behalf, especially not because Snape talked about Sirius’s parents. That wasn’t his business at all! Sirius huffed, burying his head further into his pillow. What did Remus think about his family? Sirius knew for certain that James hadn’t told Remus what was in his parents letter, because he didn’t even tell Sirius what was in it aside from necessary information, but then how would Remus know that life at home was… complicated? Had he just assumed, after his scars and what happened with Bella and Cissa and what Snape implied? Sirius didn’t like the idea of that. Remus probably thought so lowly of his family, and they had their flaws, sure, but they were still his family. 

Sirius oftentimes hated his mother, but that always made him feel so guilty, because, well, she was his mother. Maybe her methods of punishment were a bit extreme, but did that not just show that she cared? In her own way, didn’t that mean she loved him? Somewhere in his gut, Sirius knew that something about that way of thinking was wrong, but it didn’t change the fact that he cared about his family in a way nobody could understand. He didn’t want anybody to know the true extent of what went on behind closed doors, because then they might make him face the fact that what his parents were doing wasn’t love. But it had to be love, because if it wasn’t… if it wasn’t… Well, then where did that leave Sirius? If that wasn’t love, then Sirius was unsure whether he had ever known love at all. 

The idea that Remus Lupin might think that Sirius’s parents didn’t love him… that they were such a taboo topic that it was worth breaking Snape’s nose over it, it left him anxious. If Remus really understood what was happening at home, then Sirius might have to face a kind of pain that hurt worse than lashes or hexes, and he wasn’t ready to do that yet. He wasn’t sure that he ever would be. 

Everything was just so overwhelming, and all of his thoughts just swirled into a huge tornado of that which he was most familiar with: anger. Sirius was angry. He was angry at his parents, and angry at himself, and angry at the world, and he was especially angry at Remus for making him remember it. 

He was also ashamed. Even if the mention of his family was a low blow, which Sirius admitted to himself privately that it kind of was, he was not in need of defense. Sirius wasn’t weak. He could stand up for himself, and he had been standing up for himself for a long time. He had been brave and stood between his mother and Regulus so many times and he was not some weak child who couldn’t handle some teasing from Snape. He did not appreciate the implication that he was. 

Sirius had just finished putting his pajamas on when Remus knocked on the door. He knew it was Remus because Remus always rapped on the door quietly and succinctly when he knocked, as opposed to Peter who just kept knocking loudly until someone opened up, or James who never bothered to knock at all. Because he knew it was Remus, Sirius said nothing, only jumped into his bed and buried himself under his covers. His cheeks were still burning in a cruel mixture of anger and shame. Remus opened the door regardless, stepping in quietly and shutting it behind him. Sirius rather expected him to start talking, either to argue or to apologize, neither of which felt entirely appropriate to him, but Remus didn’t do either. Sirius just listened with his head still under the covers as Remus shuffled around in his drawers before stepping into the bathroom to change. He released a puff of air he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in at the lack of confrontation. 

As Remus re-entered the dorm and crawled into his own bed, drawing the curtains, Sirius noted that he couldn’t tell if he was relieved or frustrated by the lack of immediate confrontation over his outburst. He stared at Remus’s bed for a moment, feeling like if he just narrowed his eyes hard enough he would be able to see through to the boy on the other side of the curtains. He wondered, briefly, if Remus was doing the same thing to him. 

The thought only made him angrier. Or perhaps more ashamed. Maybe the two feelings were one in the same. 

He sat there for a few moments, furrowing his brows, before promptly getting out of bed to go and sit on his spot by the window. He needed to look up at the stars. Maybe he just needed Regulus. James and Peter burst through the door just a moment after Sirius had gotten settled. He didn’t acknowledge them. They said nothing to him, either, and Sirius just sat there, memorizing the constellations for what felt like a long time. Eventually, the quiet shuffle of movement under covers ceased and the sounds shifted to Peter’s quiet snoring. It was peaceful. It was calm. 

James Potter, of course, was anything but peaceful or calm, so it wasn’t entirely shocking when he just about materialized next to Sirius once it was clear the other boys were asleep. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He offered. Sirius didn’t look away from the window. 

“Why did he do that?” Sirius muttered, his chin resting on his knee, “I don’t understand. He could get in trouble for that, and- and I didn’t ask him to-”

“No one is saying you asked him to,” interrupted James, scooting closer to Sirius but never touching him, “Or that you needed him to.”

“Then… then why?” Sirius asked, finally tearing his eyes away from the moon to look into the eyes of the sun. At this, James just smiled fondly. 

“Because he cares about you, you twat,” he laughed quietly, “I would have punched Snivellus myself if Remus hadn’t beaten me to it. I’m sure the same thing goes for Pete.”

“Oh,” uttered Sirius. He felt very warm all of the sudden. James pretended not to notice the way that Sirius’s cheeks reddened. “I care about you guys, too,” he whispered, like it was a secret. Maybe it was. Caring about someone could be dangerous. He thought of Regulus, of the pain that he had suffered to spare him, of the nights he had spent tossing and turning, fretting over if he was safe, and he wondered if love was weakness. But then he thought about James, about how fiercely and fervently he cared, about all of the nights where he stayed up with Sirius after the nightmares, never asking why he was shaking and terrified, always there just to be there. He thought, then, that love might be strength, too. 

“We know,” said James. He turned to look out at the night sky, squinting at the stars that painted it. “Is your star out tonight?” It was Sirius’s turn to smile fondly. Sometimes it felt like James just knew what Sirius needed on an instinctual level, and he was very grateful for the change in subject. 

“Yeah!” Said Sirius, pointing to it, “It’s just over there. It’s a bit hard to see right now, but it’ll be much brighter come winter.”

“Doesn’t it have some sort of story behind it?” James questioned, seeming genuinely interested. 

“Well, yeah! All of them do.”

“Tell me about yours.”

“Well it’s- my star doesn’t have a super interesting story like my brothers, like Regulus’s, or at least that’s not what it's really known for, but it's the brightest star in the night sky, if that’s something to go off. In ancient texts and stuff, the star is described as the bringer of the summer heatwaves, like it just basically intensified the heat of the sun.”

“Wicked! I wish I had a cool name. What star do you think I would have been named after?”

“Hmmmm…. I’m not sure, really. I think I see you more as the sun. I guess the sun is a star technically, though.”

“You flatter me, really,” James laughed. He sat with Sirius for some time longer before he finally went to sleep, and Sirius followed suit despite how much he really didn’t want to. 

The nightmares came again that night. Maybe it was because Sirius was so tired, or so emotionally worn out, or that he had been thinking about his family, but they were particularly bad. 

Mother was leaning her hand against Father’s desk, rapping the wood of it with her nails. The office was dark save for the candle that sat burning in the corner. It was cold, too, so cold that Sirius could feel it down to his bones, down to his soul. He glanced over to the candle and considered moving closer to it. Perhaps he could feed off of some of its warmth. He tried to step closer, then, but his feet stuck to the ground. He panicked, reaching out his hand toward the candle to try and grab it, but he lost his balance and fell to the floor, his feet never unsticking from the hardwood of it. His mothers high laughter rang in his ears, so loud it made his head throb. He gasped as she grabbed him by the wrist, her hands perhaps colder than the icy air around them, and wretched him back up into a standing position. 

“Don’t take things that aren’t yours,” she taunted, “you selfish little brat.”

“I wasn’t trying to-” he stuttered out, trying to remember to breathe as her grip tightened around his wrist. She let go abruptly and delivered a sharp slap across his face, which sent him to the floor yet again. He put his hand up to his cheek, and it came away bloody. He tried to back away, but his feet were still stuck. He was trapped. 

“Don’t talk back to me,” she ordered sternly, kneeling down to meet him on the floor. He flinched as her hand raised to his face, but she only grabbed him by the jaw to examine the damage she had done to his cheek. She tutted. “Sirius, darling, you know I don’t like to do this to you, but I’ve got to teach you proper manners. I only hurt you because I care.”

I only hurt you because I care.

I only hurt you because I care.

I only hurt you because I care.

The words bounced around his brain rapidly, and he blinked back tears as he tried to understand them. He wanted to ask her to stop caring, if it meant less pain, if it meant less terror, but he couldn’t bring himself to. How do you choose between safety and love? Why did he have to? Was it really so selfish to wish he could have both? 

“I don’t understand,” he whispered back to her, because he didn’t. Because he never would. She looked at him curiously for a moment before she stood, pacing the room. Her heels clicked on the ground with every step she took, the sound of them echoing against the walls. Sirius stayed on the ground. 

“You are a disgrace to this family,” she spat at him, her words venomous in their fury, “and I have no choice but to teach you to be better.”

“Please,” he begged, despite how hard he wanted not to, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be-”

“Flagellicorpus!” she interrupted, slashing her wand, and Sirius immediately cried out at the pain that followed, clutching his stomach where the curse had hit him. She continued to flog him with the spell until he was curled into a ball, sobbing as the hot tears on his cheeks melded with his blood. At some point his feet had become unstuck, but he didn’t even notice until his mother finally relented, sweeping out of the office without so much as a word. She left him shaking like a leaf on the floor. It was so cold. It was so dark. He wanted to melt into the floorboards and give way to the darkness around him. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to be warm. He eventually moved himself to a sitting position, crawling over to the desk and grabbing hold of the candle with shaking hands. He did not take time to bask in its warmth. Instead, he tipped the candle sideways, watching for a moment as the wax dripped onto the ground. He took a deep breath and held the flame to the wood of the desk, engulfing the entire room into flames. 

Sirius gasped, shooting up in bed as echoes of flames flashed in his mind. He took in his surroundings quickly, his eyes dashing around the room rapidly as he willed his heart to stop beating so incredibly fast. He attempted to ground himself, gripping his bedsheets and breathing deeply to try and rid himself of that intense terror that was swirling dangerously in his stomach. It didn’t work very well. He groaned, untangling himself from the mess of sweaty covers and tip-toeing into the bathroom as quickly as he could. He barely had time to shut the door behind him before he was retching over the bowl. It felt like his stomach was burning him from the inside out, a remnant of the unforgiving flames that tainted his dreams. The pain was just as intense as the first time the nightmares made him physically sick, but the retching didn’t last nearly as long. After around half an hour, Sirius found himself sitting with his back against the wall, knees curled into his chest. His throat was raw from bile, and he desperately needed a drink, but all he could do was sit there and listen to the sound of his own breathing. Everything felt so staticky, so out of place, and it was like he was seeing himself through someone else's eyes, a ghost floating above his own body and watching as he fell apart, powerless to stop it. Always powerless. He curled into himself further, instinctually trying to make himself smaller. 

He flinched violently when the bathroom door creaked open, but stilled when he saw who it was. Remus. Sirius’s stomach lurched as he brushed his sweaty hair away from his eyes. He looked down at the tile of the floor, embarrassed. Remus didn’t comment on Sirius’s state, only filled him a glass of water from the sink and handed it to him wordlessly. Sirius took the glass in his hands and finally looked up at Remus curiously. 

“Why did you punch him?” He asked. Remus sighed, taking a seat next to Sirius on the ground. 

“I don’t know,” Remus admitted, running a hand through his disheveled hair, “I just got mad, I think.”

“I don’t need anyone to protect me,” Sirius declared, “I’m not weak.” The statement was more for himself than for Remus. 

“I know that. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t like the idea that you aren’t safe,” Remus whispered, looking down at the bathroom tile. Sirius took this information in carefully. He wasn’t entirely sure what it meant.

“Safe from what?” He asked, trying to keep his voice steady. If Remus knew…

“I think… I mean, I knew that your family was strict, Sirius, but I think when Snape said that thing about your parents… I just, it clicked into place for me. Your house isn’t… safe, then, is it?” 

Oh. So he did know. Or, at least he had a suspicion. That was fine. That was okay. Sirius could fix this. He just had to lie through his teeth, which was a bit of a problem, because Remus seemed to see through pretty much everything. 

“Of course my house is safe. My parents aren’t exactly angels, Remus, but I’m not in any danger. I’m fine,” Sirius lied, trying desperately to control his facial expressions. He didn’t meet Remus’s eyes, instead looked at the scar that crossed the bridge of his nose. Remus frowned.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Sirius, I’m not- I’m not going to tell anyone, okay?”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Yes there is! I know you’re lying!” Remus finally snapped. Sirius stood up at this, anger flooding his senses. Remus followed suit. 

“Fuck off! I don’t have to explain anything to you Mr. Secret Keeper! You lie to the three of us all the time and I don’t say anything about it to James or Peter, do I? It’s none of your bloody business what goes on at my house! You don’t trust me with your stuff and that’s fine , Remus, it really is, but that means that I don’t owe you anything. I owe you nothing. So just… fuck off.” 

“It's- Sirius, It’s not about owing , I’m just.. I’m worried about you. You can tell me these things.”

“There's nothing to tell.”

“You tell James. I know you do,” Remus uttered, an unreadable expression painting his face. 

“Yeah, well, you aren’t James,” Sirius bit back, his words laced with venom. He knew as soon as he said it that it was wrong, that it was hurtful. That it was true. No one would ever be James. But no one would ever be Remus, either. Sirius wanted to say that, to tell Remus that, wanted to apologize, but he just couldn’t find the words. 

His stomach turned over again, guilt flooding him. Remus pressed his lips together, looking hurt, and quickly left the room, closing the door behind him. Sirius slid down the wall and put his head between his knees, wishing he could set the bathroom ablaze, too. 

The rest of October was a blur. Remus mysteriously disappeared to the hospital wing again, but Sirius couldn’t find it in himself to wonder why anymore. Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t let any of them visit, but she assured them that Remus was just fine. He was at lunch the next day, saying something about being prone to falling ill, but Sirius wasn’t really listening. After their confrontation in the bathroom that night, they hadn’t properly spoken to each other at all. Sirius hadn’t really spoken properly to anyone but James since then, actually, too afraid that more people would discover his secret. James was different, though. James read the letter. James knew. There was no getting around that. Sirius had gotten used to that fact, but the idea of anyone else knowing that Sirius’s house was more of a prison than a home made him queasy.  

“So,” James started, gathering the attention of the other three boys immediately, “Halloween.”

“What about it?” Asked Peter, shoveling roast chicken into his mouth. James just smirked, pulling out the draft of the map (which they had dubbed “The Marauders Map” after the confrontation with Snape, as James thought that calling themselves “Marauders” was incredibly cool).

“I’ve got a surprise for you lot. I was finishing up filling in this section here,” James said, gesturing to an area of the map, “and I found something really cool. After the Halloween feast tomorrow, I want to show it to you!” James appeared very proud of his discovery indeed, so the rest of them agreed to sneak out after the feast to see it. 

The four of them fell into excited chatter after that, their shared hunger for adventure and mischief insatiable. Remus and Sirius didn’t speak directly to each other at all, it was as if they were both ignoring the other's existence. This arrangement might have hurt Sirius in the past, but he found it difficult to care about it right now. He found it difficult to care about a lot of things, especially as Christmas Break drew nearer. His brain was just too full. He sighed, rubbing his eyes in exasperation. 

The owls came at the same time as always. Sirius listened to the flutter of wings that echoed around the hall, watched as the birds flew into peoples food and slid across tables. He was so busy laughing at Snivellus being splashed with Mulicbers soup by a rogue owl that he almost didn’t notice the one that landed directly in front of him. 

Almost. 

Sirius’s breath hitched as he stared at the envelope in front of him. With a shaky hand, he picked it up, his friends chatter having ceased the second the owl dropped off the letter. His heart was beating rapidly, and tears threatened to spring up in the corners of his eyes for some reason, but he blinked them back. He was not going to embarrass himself in front of the whole table, especially not over a stupid piece of parchment. He was not weak. He was not. 

“Sirius,” James began, “do you want me to-”

“No,” Sirius interrupted, holding the letter out of James’s reach, “I’ll read it. It’s just a letter. I’m fine.”

“It doesn’t have your family crest on it,” offered Peter, and Sirius had never loved him more. He double checked the envelope to find that Peter was correct and his family crest was not, in fact, inked onto the paper.

“Pete! You’re right,” beamed Sirius, “It’s not from my parents!” He tried not to sound too ecstatic at this news. It was fine for his friends to know he didn’t get along with his parents, but he didn’t want to give Remus any more reason to suspect anything abnormal was going on. Sirius himself still hadn’t decided whether or not his household was that abnormal.

“Well go on, then, read it!” ushered James, and so Sirius did. 

Dearest Cousin, 

Happy birthday! Sorry I sent my owl a bit early, but the forecast is calling for a snowstorm where I live and I wanted to make sure my owl could get this to you before the third. Anyways, I hope this letter finds you somewhere near the third. 

I miss you very much! Obviously Ted and I won’t be attending the family Christmas ball, but I can’t say I’m too upset about that. I did always hate those parties, except for the time I got to spend with you and Regulus. I figured since we won't be able to catch up then, I would tell you the news now!

I'm pregnant! Can you believe it? Me! Pregnant! Ted and I are just over the moon. I’m due to have the baby in April, and I just can’t wait! I’m going to give her such a wonderful life. I’m going to be everything to her that my mother never was to me. I have found such happiness, Sirius, and I just wanted to remind you that you’ll find happiness someday, too. There is more to life than where we came from. 

Write back when you can, 

Andromeda

Sirius finished the letter wearing a grin from ear to ear. Andromeda was pregnant. She was happy. She was safe and in love. He hadn’t seen her since the previous year, since the day she had announced her engagement to Ted. The day her picture was burned off the tapestry. He blinked back tears once more and read the letter to his friends, omitting the last few sentences in his retelling.

“Your birthday is the third?” James sprung up with vigor, dutifully ignoring everything else Sirius had just read, “Why didn’t you tell us?!” 

“Why would I?” Sirius asked, wrinkling his nose distastefully.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Peter chimed in, now skimming the Daily Prophet, Remus looking on over his shoulder, “we could have thrown you a party!”

“A party? What for?” Sirius questioned, now very confused. Sirius had been to many parties in his life. Christmas parties, engagement parties, New Years Eve parties; all of which were dismal affairs and oftentimes ended with magical duels between his unhinged family members. Never had he been to a party for something as unimportant as a birthday. It struck him as very odd.

“You mean to tell us you’ve never had a birthday party? Or birthday presents?” James asked incredulously, as if the very thought was completely unbelievable.

“Of course not!” Sirius replied, increasingly astounded with the conversation. The idea of his family celebrating him for something as unremarkable as being born was laughable. 

“That is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” deadpanned Peter, which earned him a smack upside the head by James, “Ow! I mean, why not?”

“I didn’t realize that was a thing most people did,” Sirius shrugged, pocketing the letter and going back to his lunch. Did most people have parties and get presents on their birthdays?

“So your family just… doesn’t celebrate birthdays?” James pushed, his brows furrowed together like he was trying to solve some sort of puzzle.

“Nope,” Sirius replied, popping the ‘P’, “why would they? It’s not like being one year older is really that important. Although, I guess there might be a small formal event on my 17th birthday since I’ll be an heir coming of age.”

“Right,” James declared, running a hand through his hair, “that's going to have to change immediately. We are throwing you a party in the common room that day. How far away is it? Four days? We can totally make that happen.”

“You really don’t need to do that,” Sirius countered, quickly flustered.

“We know we don’t have to, Sirius,” huffed James, slapping a hand on Sirius’s shoulder, “We want to. Honestly, you need to just learn that sometimes people care about you without any ulterior motive.”

“I don’t not let people care about me-” Sirius started to argue, but he was interrupted by Remus clearing his throat. He stopped speaking, instead opting to glare at Remus. 

“Oh, don’t you?” challenged Remus, his arms crossed and his brows raised. Sirius wanted to slap that stupid look off of his face. 

“I’ll have you know that I have no problem with people caring about me. I do, however, get rather bothered when people won’t learn to mind their own business.” Sirius responded, eyes narrowing. James and Peter shared an uncomfortable glance. It was clear that neither of them knew how to act around Sirius and Remus when they argued. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay! I was worried about you! I care about you!” Remus burst, his gaze desperate. He was begging for Sirius to let him in. Sirius just couldn’t do it. 

“Well stop caring!” Sirius snapped, grabbing his things quickly before exiting the table in a huff. He left James and Peter dumbfounded in his wake, and refused to acknowledge the defeated look that Remus bore.

Sirius and Remus did not speak to each other at all following their argument at the lunch table. The four of them were together all of Halloween, carving pumpkins and playing pranks and eating the delicious food the elves had prepared for the Halloween feast. Remus and Sirius had been together all day, and yet they had not so much as looked at each other even once. 

It was a difficult thing to keep up. Sirius and Remus had been quite close since they’d met, and Sirius kept finding himself wanting to whisper jokes to Remus, or to tell him whatever random thought had popped into his mind, but he couldn’t. He and James were indescribably close, but there was something different about Remus. Where it felt like he and James shared the same brain, it was like he and Remus shared the same soul. They were fundamentally different, but sometimes it felt like there was this force driving Sirius toward Remus, making him want to know everything there was to know about the other boy. He had to keep reminding himself that he couldn’t joke with Remus like he used to, that he couldn’t badger him with questions because it seemed like he just knew everything , that he couldn’t throw his arm around Remus’s shoulder or laugh with him until neither of them could breathe. 

It was just hard to get used to. Especially because Sirius knew he was being too hard on Remus. He knew that he had said hurtful things and lashed out when Remus was only trying to help, but he just couldn’t deal with it if Remus knew about what happened in Grimmauld Place. 

For one, Sirius still had not decided whether he was actually unsafe at home or if his parents really did only hurt him because they cared about him. Some days it felt so clear that his house was not normal, that it was not safe, but other days he managed to convince himself that his parents were just stricter than most. He wanted to be able to convince himself of that for just a little longer. 

Also, Sirius absolutely could not have Remus’s thinking that he was at all afraid of his parents. Sirius Black was a lot of things, but he was not a coward and he would not have Remus Lupin of all people thinking that he was too weak to handle his own problems. Sirius was not weak. Sirius was not afraid. Or at least he would never admit that he was. 

In conclusion, Remus Lupin needed to butt out of Sirius’s home life. Sirius wanted his friend back, but he didn’t know how to make up with Remus without telling him everything he was feeling, and Sirius had never been good with feelings. With expressing them. The only thing he knew how to do properly was be angry. And so he stayed angry. So he didn’t talk to Remus because he just didn’t know how to do anything but brood. 

He didn’t even speak to Remus when James showed the rest of the boys the passage to Honeydukes that he had found. He didn’t speak to him as they walked through the dark tunnel, or as they entered the shop, and he didn’t even make fun of Remus for his chocolate addiction as the four of them ransacked the cellar for candy. 

In fact, by the morning of Sirius’s birthday, he and Remus had still not spoken a word to each other. James and Peter had both tried desperately to get the two of them to make up, but Sirius and Remus were perhaps the two most stubborn individuals in the entire castle, and both of them refused to be the first to apologize. And so they had reached a stalemate. Sirius was so caught up in his fight with Remus that he had forgotten it was his birthday entirely. Not that he usually paid much mind to his birthday, anyways. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have registered that it was his birthday at all if it hadn’t been for James. 

James, apparently, had not forgotten about Sirius’s birthday at all, because he woke Sirius up before dawn the morning of the third by jumping on his bed and screeching “Happy Birthday” at the top of his lungs. Sirius groaned, throwing his comforter over his face and trying desperately to cling onto sleep. Peter and James both laughed, grabbing the ends of the blanket and pulling it off Sirius in a manner so quickly you would think they had practiced it. Sirius groaned again. 

“Five more minutes,” he pleaded, squinting his eyes at the lamplight in the room.

“No way!” Declared James, throwing a pair of jeans and a shirt at Sirius, “Get dressed. The sun is going to be rising soon and the three of us are taking you down to the lake to watch it.”

“The three of you?” Inquired Sirius, suddenly more awake. 

“The three of us,” confirmed Peter, “you and Remus are both Marauders and therefore are not allowed to be mad at eachother for any longer.”

“We can be mad at each other for as long as we want!” said Sirius, but Remus drew the curtains from his own bed and shook his head at Sirius.

“It’s no use, Sirius, I had this conversation with them already,” Remus said, “apparently being Marauders means no inter-arguing.”

“Exactly,” concurred James, “if we intend to be school legends, we have to stick together. So no more fighting.”

“We can’t just-” Sirius started, but Peter rolled his eyes, groaning.

“Can you guys please just call a truce? Just for today?” Peter begged, and Sirius turned to meet Remus’s eyes. A day couldn’t hurt. He could be nice to Remus without spilling all his secrets for a day. 

“Fine,” Sirius agreed, getting up to change into his day clothes, “but only for today.”

Sirius had never realized that birthdays could be so much fun. James, Peter, and Remus had taken him to watch the sunrise over the Black Lake, sang him “Happy Birthday” at breakfast, and gotten the portraits to sing to him every time he passed by any of them. It was after dinner that Sirius found himself getting ready for his own birthday party in his dormitory, his heart thundering. He felt so… well. He didn’t really know how he felt. Appreciated? Cared for? It was odd. He felt like he hadn’t done enough to deserve the kindness he was being shown. He felt almost guilty, if he thought about it hard enough. 

Remus interrupted that line of thought, knocking twice on the door before entering and closing it behind him. 

“Hey,” he said, swallowing awkwardly with his back up against the door, “the party is almost ready. James and Peter will be up in a minute to force you to make some sort of grand entrance down the staircase.” 

“Of course they will,” Sirius replied with fond laughter, not quite meeting Remus’s eyes. They had been cordial to each other today for the sake of James and Peter, but speaking to each other alone was new territory. 

“I just, uhm, I wanted to say that I’m sorry. If I was pushing you to talk about something you aren’t ready to talk about. I’m sorry. I know that it's hypocritical of me,” Remus uttered, looking almost terrified. Sirius finally looked up at Remus fully, their eyes locking. 

“I’m sorry too,” Sirius breathed, without even thinking, “I shouldn’t have said that you weren’t James.”

“I’m not James.”

“I know that. You’re Remus. And Remus is just as good. And I’m sorry that I implied that you aren’t. Because you are. I was just…”

“Angry?”

“Scared.” Sirius admitted, though he wasn’t sure why.

“I get scared, too, Sirius. You don’t have to be scared alone.” Remus all but whispered, and Sirius remembered what James had said to him on the very first night they had arrived at the castle. We can be scared together . 

“I think I’m starting to realize that,” was all Sirius said, but it was enough. Remus smiled, and Sirius smiled, and everything seemed like it might just be okay. 

James and Peter burst through the door moments later, nearly shoving Remus to the ground in their excitement. James was holding a paper crown that read “Birthday Boy” and carefully bestowed it on Sirius’s head before leading him out to the staircase. As Sirius descended the stairs, the other three boys whooped and hollered and cheered behind him, and it was all so ridiculous and sweet and Sirius just didn’t know what to make of it. The girls were all wearing birthday hats, along with Frank Longbottom and Alice Fortesque, and each of them gifted him candies and trinkets. 

The common room was packed, the stereo playing some sort of muggle music that Sirius was entranced by, and the warm light of the fireplace dancing off of the walls. He danced and laughed with his friends for hours, and by the time the party was over his heart had never felt so full. Once everyone else had finally gone off to bed, the four Marauders returned back to their dormitory. Sirius was exhausted, and very ready to go to sleep, but the other three had not finished with the celebrations just yet. 

Once they had all gotten into their pajamas, James had them sit in a circle on the floor of the dormitory so he, Peter, and Remus could give Sirius his birthday presents. 

“This is very unnecessary, guys, you already threw me a party-” Sirius began. 

“So you’re saying you don’t want our awesome gifts?” Peter interrupted smugly. 

“Well, no, I’m not saying that -”

“Then shut up,” said James. He handed him two packages, both square, with one being very thin and light and the other being very heavy. Sirius looked up at him curiously, but James only smirked at him and gestured for him to open them. Sirius did, and moments later he found himself holding several muggle records and a muggle record player. He could actually cry. 

“James!” He burst out, launching himself over to hug his best friend, so grateful he was near tears, “Thank you so much,” he told him, but it wasn’t anywhere near enough words to convey how giddy it made him. Sirius had always been into muggle things, muggle clothes, muggle music, muggle inventions, and not even just because it made his parents livid. He just thought that they were so interesting– so magical , even in a world that lacked magic. He had always been so interested, but he had never had anything other than muggle clothes from that world to call his own. And music? James knew how much he loved music. James knew him so well, better than anyone had ever tried to know him (except perhaps Regulus, but thinking about Regulus was still rather painful at the moment), and just that fact was enough to send his heart soaring. He had friends. And not just surface level friends. He had real, true, best friends. Friends who knew him. Friends who knew him and cared about him anyway. Friends who knew him and cared about him even more for it. It was only a record player, true, but the fact that James knew that Sirius would even like that was dizzying. The reality that he had people that cared enough about him to remember that he liked muggles, and music, and then give him something like this– it was almost too much for him to handle. 

“It was nothing, mate,” said James easily, because he didn’t understand how far from nothing it was. He didn’t understand how everything it was. Sirius couldn’t fathom any response that would convey it, and so he just thanked James over and over again until Peter interrupted him by handing him another gift. Sirius shook off his brief emotional moment and opened it. 

Inside was a framed photo of the four of them, taken outside by the big tree that sat next to the lake. Sirius had his arms around the shoulders of both James and Remus, a goofy grin plastered across his face. James was laughing in the photo, holding up bunny ears behind a poor and unsuspecting Peter, who was smiling bashfully. Remus was looking over at Sirius, smiling at him like he was some sort of miracle. Or- well, he was smiling and looking at Sirius, not smiling at Sirius, because there was no reason for him to be smiling only at Sirius, but the angle of the photo or the timing of it or an amalgamation of the two made it seem like that was the case. He finally stopped over analyzing after a few moments to thank Peter. His heart felt so full it could burst.

“Thanks, Pete! I’ll keep this on my nightstand, I look fantastic in it,” he joked, and his friends laughed along with him, and everything was just so perfect. He felt like he was floating on a cloud. And then it was Remus’s turn to gift Sirius something. He handed him a small parcel, wrapped much more neatly than James or Peter's gifts had been. Because of this, Sirius took care in opening it, tearing away the wrapping paper gingerly and gently as if he might hurt it. When he finally did get it open, he let out a small breath of air. It was the book they had talked about almost a month earlier, the one about the boy with a funny name. The Outsiders . 

“Merlin, I had forgotten about this!” Said Sirius, looking at the book with a fond smile. 

“It’s your turn to read it,” offered Remus, “If you still want to, that is-”

“Of course I still want to, Remus! Don’t be silly,” Sirius cut him off quickly with a dismissive wave of his hand. Remus beamed, though it was clear he tried to hide it. 

“Great! Well I- I hope you don’t mind, I, um, I highlighted some bits that I thought you would like, or that like, reminded me of you,” Remus sputtered out. Sirius felt like he was up on that cloud again. 

“I don’t mind at all, Remus,” Sirius offered softly, “thank you, really.”

“You’re welcome.”

The boys finally all went to bed after that, with Sirius promising to read the book after Christmas, because he wouldn’t be able to bring it to Grimmauld Place due to its general muggleness, and he didn’t want to have to start it and not be able to finish it before it was time to leave. Regardless, he found himself flipping through the pages that night after everyone else had fallen asleep, searching for those highlighted portions Remus had mentioned. He stopped on one page containing a line that Remus had highlighted in blue. It read: “ You still have a lot of time to make yourself be what you want. There's still lots of good in the world. ” 

It made Sirius tear up, not for any reason in particular. He closed the book, stashing it under his pillow, and turned on his side to face Remus’s bed. He fell asleep tracing patterns in the curtains of it.

Sirius spent the rest of November still on a high from his birthday. Remus disappeared again , which was starting to feel like some sort of monthly ritual, but this time Sirius was just too happy and full of fondness for his friends that he didn’t care. As opposed to the latter weeks of October, which he spent in a rather depressive state, Sirius found himself happier than he had ever been as November drew to a close. He just had so much… fondness, for everything. He felt fond when the four of them doubled over in laughter after another successful prank, or when they all stayed up talking in their dormitory until the sun had risen, or when James and Lily got into another meaningless argument over breakfast, or at Quidditch games where he, Marlene, and James screamed their lungs hoarse for Gryffindor, or just in those quiet moments in the common room where the marauders and the girls studied (or tried to study) together, and everything was warm. Everything was just… warm, lately, even as the snow began to fall, even as winter creeped up on them. Sirius had people who cared about him. People that weren’t family. Not by blood, anyway. It just. Meant everything to him. That people cared. Even though they had no obligation to. 

The warmth carried through to December, and Sirius felt so light and bright and happy that he didn’t even realize it was almost time to go home for the holidays until it was. It didn’t hit him fully that he would be returning to Grimmauld Place until the early afternoon before he had to leave, lounging by the fireplace with all of his friends as they discussed their family holiday traditions. He was sprawled out on top of James on the floor, sharing a box of fizzing whizbees with Peter from their latest raid of Honeydukes cellar. It was when Mary asked if they had all finished packing yet when that balloon of warmth in his chest popped and deflated. Sirius sat up quickly.

“Wait- packing? We don’t leave for another week or something, right?” He asked nervously. He had been so caught up in having fun with his friends that he hadn’t really been keeping track of the days. He had forgotten he had to. He had forgotten that he was awaiting his doom at home, if only for a blissful few moments. 

“Sirius, you’re joking, right?” asked Dorcas, laughter bubbling up within her, “We leave tomorrow .”

“You’re kidding me, right?” He said, hoping he didn’t sound as panicked as he felt, “...Right?!” He looked to James for reassurance, but James only grimaced.

“Mate… how did you not know that? It’s all anyone has been talking about,” James said, but he didn’t seem to find it as funny as Dorcas did. He knew what was waiting for Sirius at home, and now he also knew Sirius was not at all prepared for it mentally. 

“I dunno… I guess I just.. I don’t know,” he said dumbly. He stood up slowly, everything feeling kind of distant and unreal. “I should, um, I should go pack.” 

“I’ll come with you and help,” announced James immediately, standing up and following him to the dormitory, leaving the rest of their friends rather confused at Sirius’s sudden shift in mood. 

Once they reached the dormitory, Sirius sat down on his bed and put his head in his hands, just willing himself to breathe, breathe, breathe . He didn’t understand why it was so difficult. 

“I don’t know how I just… forgot we were leaving tomorrow,” he admitted to James in a whisper when the other boy sat down next to him, a steady hand on his shoulder. 

“You probably blocked it out. Dissociated or some shit,” James reasoned, now rubbing calming circles on his back. Sirius didn’t deserve him. 

“Yeah, probably,” Sirius swallowed, “I just… I don’t want to go back there, James. I know I don’t talk about it a lot, because I don’t want the others to know but… I think they’re really going to.. to-” he couldn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to. James heard him loud and clear. I think they’re really going to hurt me bad. James frowned deeply, pulling Sirius into a hug. Sirius breathed in his scent, still that mixture of berries and forest leaves. It was comforting. He tried to memorize it for a time when there wouldn’t be any comfort. 

“I’m so sorry, Sirius,” James uttered softly, sadly, “I just- you really can come stay with me.”

“I can’t,” said Sirius, “they would find me. And besides. I have Regulus. I can’t leave him there. I won’t leave him there.”

“He can come too,” James pleaded.

“He wouldn’t go. Maybe next year, when he’s here, when he knows what it’s like to be anywhere but there. But this year… this year, I have to go back.”

“Okay. Okay. So then before you do, before you do, I’m going to surround you with so much love and laughter and fun that you can hold onto it when you’re there. So let's get you packed now, and then all of us– you, me, Peter, Remus, and the girls are going outside to the grounds to mess around in the snow. Okay?”

Sirius smiled. One thing about James Potter is that he never stopped trying to fight light in the darkness, even when the darkness wasn’t his own. “Okay.”

And so that’s what they did. James helped him pack up all of his belongings, and once his trunk was full, he dragged him and the rest of the group outside to the grounds where they proceeded to have a snowball fight. It was very childish, but Sirius didn’t mind. It really was fun. Lily hit James with at least fifty snowballs, and Sirius and Remus built a snow fort to protect themselves from oncoming attacks by Peter and Marlene. 

“Are you okay?” Remus asked him as they crouched behind the fort, the sound of their friends' laughter echoing in the background.

“I’m okay for tonight. Going home will be hard,” Sirius admitted, “but I’ll come back. And then I’ll be okay again.”

“Okay. I’m here for you, you know. All of us are.”

“I know. That’s why I’ll be okay,” Sirius smiled softly. “Now can we please get back to pelting Peter and Marlene with snowballs?”

“I would love nothing more.”

The snowball fight continued on into the late afternoon, when all eight of them had been pelted with what collectively was probably pounds of snow. Cheeks and noses pink from cold, they all trudged into the castle together for dinner. The feast smelled amazing, and was as over-the-top as anyone would have expected for the last night before break, but Sirius wasn’t very hungry. He left the table early, picking up a dreamless sleep drought from Madam Pomfrey on his way back to the dormitory and ignoring her worried expression. He showered and changed into his pajamas and sat in his bed, drought in hand, staring at the wall. 

He was going home tomorrow. It was hard to wrap his head around. Maybe that’s because he wasn’t really going home, he was just going back to the house he lived in. Home was here. Home was James. Home was Remus. Home was Peter, and Mary, and Marlene, and Dorcas, and Lily. Home was snowball fights and pranks and the fire of the common room and a record player from his best friend and a book annotated just for him by his other one. Home was a lot of things. It wasn’t Grimmauld Place. It never really had been. He didn’t want to go back. 

But home was Regulus, too. Regulus had always been home for Sirius. And Sirius had always been home for Regulus. And Regulus didn’t have snowball fights or record players or friends who cared about him enough to read a line from a book and think about him and highlight it. What Regulus did have was Sirius. So he had to go back. 

Sirius took the potion. He fell asleep, and the next morning, despite the way his whole body protested, he got out of bed, and he gathered his trunk, and he got on the train with his friends. He memorized their eyes and their scents and the sound of their laughter and told himself over and over and over again that he wouldn’t forget it. 

And so when the train came to a halt at Kings Cross station, Sirius took a deep breath and got off, reminding himself that it would only be two weeks before he could get back on. 

What could happen in two weeks, really?

Chapter Text

Sirius had forgotten what it felt like to be in a constant state of fight or flight. He hadn’t realized most people weren’t until he went to Hogwarts. It was not fun. He found himself overanalyzing every little thing for signs of danger. When he stepped off the train with his friends, Peter and Remus both made beelines for their parents, leaving James and Sirius alone together on the platform. 

“Do you see them anywhere? Your parents?” James asked him as they wove through a crowd of people.

“No, no I don’t see them. Maybe they haven’t-” Sirius began, but he cut himself off as soon as he saw the house elf standing just up ahead of them. His parents weren’t here. They weren’t going to be here at all. 

“What? What is it?”

“They sent my house elf. They aren’t here. They aren’t coming.” He stuttered out, equal parts relieved and terrified. It’s not as if Sirius had any real desire to see his parents, but it kind of stung that they didn’t even bother to come to the train station to pick him up. It was also not a good sign for him regarding their anger. He read their message loud and clear: We are furious. We don’t even want to be seen with you in public. Danger. Danger. Danger.

“That’s- that’s messed up, Sirius,” James said, still leading him through the crowd. Kreacher hadn’t noticed Sirius. They finally stopped up against a wall, James surveying the scene, seemingly looking for his own parents. 

“Yeah. They can’t be too happy with me,” he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else, just as James gasped. 

“Mum! Dad!” He hollered, waving his arms around to get their attention. They noticed him, and Sirius watched as Mrs. Potter’s eyes lit up at the sight of her son, and he watched as Mr. Potter’s smile grew wide, and he watched as they ran over and engulfed James into a hug that looked so warm it was maddening. He stood to the side awkwardly. He didn’t want to go over to Kreacher. Not yet. Just five more minutes with James. 

“You must be Sirius!” Said Mrs. Potter when they finally stopped hugging. Sirius nodded nervously. 

“Yes- yeah, it’s nice to meet you Mr and Mrs. Potter,” he stammered, trying very hard to sound cordial. 

Mrs. Potter only laughed. “Please dear, there’s no need for those formalities! Call me Effie. This is my husband, Monty,” she said kindly, gesturing to Mr. Potter.

“Oh, uhm, sorry. Effie and Monty,” he corrected, trying to put it to memory. 

“Don’t be sorry, dear! So polite, this friend of yours, James,” Effie teased, nustling James’s hair. James laughed.

“Sirius? Polite? That’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said, Mum,” James joked, and Sirius felt his face go hot. Effie just smiled at him with that same lopsided grin that her son so often wore. 

“Yes James, I’m sure you’ve corrupted him plenty,” Monty chimed in, which caused Sirius to actually snort, but then quickly slap a hand over his mouth. He still wasn’t sure of the etiquette that the Potters followed– of what was safe and what wasn’t. Effie and Monty seemed to find his reaction hilarious, though, so he relaxed a bit. 

It was as James was telling the story of one of their many pranks to them that Kreacher appeared next to Sirius, tugging on his shirt.

“Merlin! Kreacher, you scared me,” cried out Sirius, dusting off his clothes as if Kreacher had contaminated them.

“Mistress has ordered Kreacher to take young Master Sirius home,” Kreacher replied simply, but he looked very displeased about it. Sirius sighed. 

“Alright, just let me say goodbye to James,” he said, turning to hug his friend. They embraced, and James squeezed him so tight Sirius thought he might burst. 

“You’ll be alright. I’ll write loads, okay?”

“Please don’t. I don’t want them to read the letters. Tell the others not to, as well.”

“If you’re sure. But I promise I’ll tell you everything I did over break when we get back.”

Sirius smiled thankfully, engulfing James in another hug. He bid a quick goodbye to Monty and Effie, and Kreacher took hold of his hand, and suddenly the world was contorting around him as they disapparated, Sirius’s last clear image being of James’s face. 

They landed in the living room of Grimmauld Place, and Sirius instantly felt like all the life had been sucked out of him. It was so cold, so dark, and the air was filled with dark magic. It suffocated him. It threatened to cling to his bones. To make a home underneath his skin. To burrow itself into his soul. He fought to suppress a shudder.

Once he had gotten his footing, he looked up to meet the eyes of Walburga standing across from him. Looking into her eyes when he had been standing in front of James only moments ago disoriented him to say the least. She studied him with an unreadable expression for a moment before turning to Kreacher. He swallowed. 

“Kreacher, go finish preparing dinner. Orion will be home from work soon,” she ordered the elf, and Sirius had to fight not to flinch at hearing the sound of her voice after so long. It sent chills down his spine. A pool of shame started to build in his gut– Hogwarts had made him weaker. More susceptible to the fear that was etched into the soul of this place. Kreacher nodded, bowing low before leaving. Walburga turned back to Sirius, who wanted very desperately to squirm, but he stood still.

“Where’s Regulus?” He asked, his voice much steadier than he felt. He needed his brother like he needed oxygen in his lungs. Being back here reminded him that being away from Regulus for so long felt very much like drowning. 

“He’s with his tutor. His lesson will be over before dinner,” Walburga told him, her tone clipped and cool. Sirius began to anxiously tug on his hair, twirling it between his fingers. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop– waiting for her to pull out her wand. She didn’t. “Your hair has gotten far too long. It needs to be cut,” she remarked after a moment of uncomfortable silence. Sirius barely managed to suppress a groan. 

“My hair is fine, Maman, it’s barely reached my shoulders,” he argued, unable to hold himself back from it. He was never any good at self preservation, especially not when it came to Walburga. 

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You look ridiculous. I won’t have you embarrassing our family any more than you already have. It will be cut.” 

“I haven’t embarrassed- I don’t- It’s not my fault that I was sorted into Gryff-”

“N’ose même pas! I will not have you so much as speak that name in this house!” She cut him off, raising her voice slightly. He glared at her, anger flooding him. Gryffindor meant everything to him. Gryffindor was a part of him. It was home. It was family. He couldn’t just… pretend that it wasn’t. Not for long, anyway. 

“I’m going to go unpack,” he told her, because if he didn’t leave right then things would absolutely escalate, and he was simply not in the mood to deal with being screamed at or cursed quite yet. 

“Very well,” she relented, glaring right back at him like he was some kind of disease, “dinner will be soon.” Sirius nodded, grabbing his trunk and lugging it into his bedroom. It was very heavy. Walburga did not help him. He sighed deeply, closing the door and locking it behind him. 

Sirius dropped his trunk onto the floor and flopped onto his bed, groaning into his pillow. It was just so hard to…breathe, in this place. So hard to exist. To be. It was a bit easier in his room, away from his mother and Kreacher and the prying eyes of the portraits that littered the walls, but it was still uncomfortable. Wrong. Anxiety-inducing. 

He hadn’t realized it before, growing up, but his bedroom felt so distinctly… unlike him. The walls were bare and gray, as was the majority of the room, and his bedding was green and silver. It was impeccably clean, with no posters or knick knacks or memorabilia of any kind. If Sirius himself didn’t live here, he wouldn’t guess that anybody even inhabited this room. It looked like it was just there for show. 

That’s how his mother treated him. Like he was there for show. For decoration. It made him crazy. He had spent his whole life trying to prove to her that he was more than some sort of wall ornament. Sirius furrowed his brows, sitting up and trying to picture what his room would look like if he had any say in it. Perhaps over the summer he could put up some posters, maybe even some Gryffindor memorabilia. Or maybe not. Mother wouldn’t even let him say the word Gryffindor. Sirius didn’t want to imagine what would happen if he brought anything red and gold into the house. He thought of what James’s bedroom probably looked like. Sirius supposed James could put up whatever posters he wanted. James probably never had to think about the potential consequences of something like that. 

James probably never had to think about half of the things Sirius had to think about. He probably never had to memorize the creaky floorboards in his house, or the sound of his fathers footsteps coming up the staircase, or the look in his mothers eyes when she started with the spells. 

Why hadn’t she started with the spells? Sirius half expected her to drag him to his fathers office as soon as he got home, but it seemed like she was waiting for something. Maybe for father? But that didn’t make sense. Orion yelled at Sirius often, and he’d hit him occasionally, but he wasn’t quite as… involved in Sirius’s punishments as Walburga was. Sometimes, rarely, if Sirius had been really bad, Orion would come into the office after Walburga was done. Those nights were always long and painful. Sirius shuddered as he started unpacking. He hoped his father had nothing to do with why mother seemed to be dragging this out. 

His train of thought was interrupted when he heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. Regulus was home. 

Regulus was home!

Sirius jumped up, ignoring his half-unpacked trunk and practically jumping over a pile of his clothes and running into the hallway. He met Regulus’s eye from the top of the staircase, and it felt like the whole world stopped for a moment. Sirius smiled, but Regulus had an unreadable expression on his face, flicking his gaze away quickly when their mother stepped into the entrance room. Sirius’s stomach dropped. Was Reg mad at him, too?

“Sirius, come downstairs,” Walburga beckoned, rather emotionlessly, “It’s time for dinner.” Sirius obliged, cautiously making his way down the staircase, flicking his eyes between his brother and mother. They had very similar expressions on their faces. Something hollow, something hardened. Sirius didn’t like it one bit. Walburga walked into the dining room, and Regulus turned to follow her before Sirius grabbed onto his arm.

“What’s going on with you?” Sirius asked, an undertone of desperation leaking through his words, “are you mad at me? Look, I’m sorry I didn’t write, but Moth-” Regulus cut him off, shushing him and yanking his arm away before he could finish the sentence. 

“Shut up! Just- I’ll talk to you tonight, okay?” Regulus said, his eyes boring into Sirius' own, as if trying to send him some kind of secret message. Sirius understood. They would talk tonight, in one of their bedrooms, long after their parents had gone to sleep. He nodded. Regulus seemed to accept this, huffing and straightening out his sleeve before going to join their Mother in the dining room. 

Sirius paused, for a moment. He had a bad feeling. Regulus was not acting like himself. Sure, the two of them were usually at least a little secretive, communicating in glances and whispers when their parents were nearby, but the far-away look on Regulus’s face… Sirius was sure something more was going on than the typical paranoia that came with living here.

“Sirius Orion Black!” Sirius flinched when his mother called out his name, “get in here this instant! Do not make us wait for you.” Sirius obeyed her immediately, his feet moving one in front of the other as if they had no other choice. Sirius grimaced. He hated how weak his mother could make him feel so easily. He stepped into the dining room, head down, and joined Regulus and Walburga at the table as Kreacher began serving dinner. The house elf had made Sole Meunière, a classic French dish. Sirius caught his mothers eye, and she smirked knowingly at him. Of course, Sirius thought bitterly as Kreacher served him, they would be having fish. Sirius hated fish, and his whole family knew it. He swallowed his anger, knowing that his mother was just trying to get a rise out of him, to annoy him. She was always looking for a reason to punish him. On a normal day, Sirius may have risen to the bait, complaining that they could have had anything else on his first night back from school, but this was not a normal night. 

Sirius knew that he was going to be punished. He knew that his parents were furious with him for his Sorting. He knew, realistically, that there was nothing he could do to stop what was going to happen. But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to at least try. Complaining about dinner certainly wouldn’t help his situation, and so he didn’t. He didn’t say anything at all, actually, and neither did anybody else. 

The family sat, eating in complete silence, cutlery scraping against the plates, until Orion finally came home from work. Sirius felt his heartbeat speed up when his father came into the room, sitting down at the head of the table. There was tension in the air, so thick you could cut it with a knife. Sirius felt rather frozen, like if he didn’t move perhaps no one would notice him and he could escape the fate that was sure to come. He watched as Orion and Walburga shared a look, before Orion turned to glare at Sirius. So she had been waiting for him, then.

“I’m sure you understand that we need to have a discussion about your actions at school,” his father said rather gruffly. Sirius just nodded, fighting the urge to roll his eyes despite how terrified he was already. His actions?! It wasn’t as if Sirius had any control over where the Sorting hat had decided to place him, and even so, Sirius definitely preferred being in Gryffindor over having to see his cousins everyday. 

“You have disgraced this family,” Walburga began loudly, her voice cutting through him like nails on a chalkboard, “the Black family tradition of being in Slytherin house goes back FIVE HUNDRED YEARS!” She yelled, slamming her fork down on the table. Sirius flinched. “We have been thoroughly embarrassed by your complete and utter betrayal of the family and its values! Do you know how many letters I’ve received about this from our relatives? How many people in the family I’ve had to explain this to? Do you? Or are you too stupid to realize that what you do impacts all of us? And these ridiculous pranks your cousin wrote to me about? Just what do you think you are doing?!” Sirius felt his stomach lurch. As many times as he had been berated by his parents, it never got any easier. He turned to Regulus, trying to catch his eye, just for any sort of comfort, but the younger boy had his eyes down at his plate, seemingly tuning everything out. 

That was fine. This was all fine. Mother and Father would yell, they would berate him, they would probably hex him a couple times. But it would be okay. By tonight, Sirius told himself, it’ll be over. All those months of anxiously waiting for Christmas break, of pushing away his fear, of trying to ignore the nauseous feeling the anticipation gave him, it all led up to tonight. Sirius just needed to get through it. He took deep breaths, trying hard to calm himself as his mother and father took turns yelling insults at him. “Traitor,” they called him, "disgrace," "disappointment," and Sirius let it roll off his back. He couldn’t get upset yet, not when he knew that it could (and probably would) get much worse. 

Despite the fact that he knew it was going to happen eventually, when Walburga grabbed Sirius arm and began to drag him into the office, he felt his blood run cold. He desperately wanted to be anywhere but there, where the bookshelves towered over him, and the carpet had been washed of his blood more times than he could count, and there was a dent on the side of the desk where his mother had once slammed his head into it. He felt as if he was going to faint already by the time she shoved him to the ground, pulling out her wand and twirling it between her fingers. He ran his fingers through the carpet, trying anything to ground himself from the feeling of horror swirling around in his abdomen. It was dark in the office, Sirius noted, the only light coming from the setting sun outside the windows. 

“You know I have to do it,” she told him coldly, emotion completely gone from her voice. “I have to teach you right from wrong, Sirius,” she insisted, “It’s a mother’s job.” Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off with a spell before he could. Lacero. She hit him in the stomach, which hurt quite a bit, although the wound didn’t feel too deep. He could feel the blood beginning to seep out all over him as she continued, hitting his legs, and his face, his stomach again. “Do not talk back to me, Sirius. Tu me dégoûtes! I will teach you to be better.” She hit him with the spell over and over again, until blood was spilling out of him and onto the ground, until he was crying, until he was begging, until he was sure he couldn’t take it anymore, until he was sure he was going to die right there, on the floor of his fathers office. He could feel the lashes all over him, burning, radiating with pain. She didn’t stop until what felt like hours later, although Sirius supposed it might have been as short as ten minutes. 

“Please, Maman,” he croaked, a ball on the floor, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead and into his eye. It was warm as it mixed with his tears, “no more! I’m sorry-”

“You’d better be,” she hissed, but she seemed to agree that she had done enough. She did not continue with the spell, merely swept out of the office, closing and locking the door behind her without so much as a backward glance. 

For several minutes, Sirius lay still on the dark hardwood floor of the office, processing. He stared up at the ceiling, blinking slowly, the only sounds he was registering being his own ragged breathing. He winced in pain as he eventually tried to sit himself up, blood seeping uncontrollably from his wounds and through his clothes. He frowned as he examined the various bloodstains on the ground. He had never seen his mother quite like that before. He put his hand up to the wound on his forehead. It throbbed harder when he touched it, and droplets of blood continued to escape the wound and drip into his eye every so often. She had never left him with scars he couldn’t cover with his clothing before, usually not using Lacero anywhere but on his lower legs. She was less controlled than usual, this time. Far angrier. The lacerations had been more sporadic, from what Sirius could tell. Maybe she would heal the scarring before Sirius went back to school? He was confident that he would be able to hide the scars on his chest and back, but he couldn’t imagine having to explain brand new scars across his arms and legs to Remus, not to mention the new one above his brow. It was especially an issue considering everything that had happened between them after Halloween. 

Sirius groaned. He did not want to worry about his friendship with Remus right now. The open wounds littering his skin throbbed painfully, a burning sensation radiating all throughout him. He felt very dizzy, and it was like there was a fuzzy sort of film over his eyes, and a heaviness to his eyelids. Sirius glanced over to the office door. He wanted desperately to leave, to curl up in his bed and close his eyes and imagine he was somewhere, anywhere but here. But it was still locked. He was trapped. Always trapped. 

He was interrupted from his thoughts when the lock on the door turned suddenly. As much as he had wanted the door to open, he did not feel any relief when he realized it was his father who was opening it. 

“I hope you don’t think this is over,” Orion began immediately, which led Sirius to stand up rather abruptly, backing away from him and toward the bookshelves. The action clearly made him dizzy, which made Orion laugh. 

“Please,” he begged, but he knew it was useless, “Mother already–” His father cut him off, shoving him into the shelves. Sirius gasped in pain as his head slammed into the wood, covering it as books landed on him from above. Pain radiated from his skull inward, his head pounding relentlessly. He stayed upright, trying to make it easier to defend himself despite how dangerously he was swaying at this point. Everything was so blurry.

“I know what your Mother has done, Sirius, and you deserved every second of it. Just like you deserve this. You have disgraced yourself, you have disgraced us and our entire family name, and you will not go unpunished!” He kicked Sirius in the shins at this, sending him to the ground on his hands and knees. Orion laughed, kicking him again in the stomach, aggravating the magical wounds from mother. Sirius hissed in pain, curling into a ball to try and shield himself from the blows as they continued. Everything ached, and the feeling of the punches and kicks started to morph together into a dull pain that wrapped around Sirius like a blanket. His head felt like it was on fire. He was unbearably tired. “You will NEVER embarrass this family like that again, Sirius. Do you understand me?” His father asked him darkly, finally stopping to pull him into a standing position. Sirius didn’t respond at first, trying desperately to focus his eyes as his mind spun. He felt sick, dizzy with pain, and he was quite sure the only thing keeping him standing at this point was the adrenaline. Orion tightened his grip on Sirius’s collar, lifting him up higher and slamming him again into the bookshelf. Sirius groaned in pain. Everything hurt so bad. “I said, "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” his father boomed, the loud sound sending agonizing shockwaves through Sirius. He nodded his head desperately. This needed to be over.

“Yes,” Sirius replied, and the words tasted like acid on his tongue, “Yes Sir, I understand-” Orion scoffed, glaring at Sirius like he was the most disgusting thing on the planet, but he relented, releasing his collar. Sirius promptly fell to the ground, but Orion didn’t say anything, leaving the room and locking the door behind him. Sirius felt his heart drop when he heard the click of the lock. Why had they locked him in again? He moved to go lay on the carpet, trying to get as comfortable as he could (which was not very).

Usually, when his punishments were over, his parents sent Kreacher in to fetch him and bring him back to his bedroom. But Kreacher didn’t come. Sirius laid, staring at the door for what felt like hours, until he was absolutely sure his parents weren’t coming back to continue. They had both seemed angrier in their punishments than usual. This made Sirius feel strangely ashamed. He knew that what they did was wrong (parents didn’t hurt their kids… not like how his parents had hurt him), but then… Why did their disappointment still hurt so bad? It wasn’t like Sirius tried to get sorted into Gryffindor. Still, there was no coming back from it. Sirius would always be a Gryffindor, and he reckoned his parents would never really get over that. He shuddered, thinking of the punishments that he would have to face in the years to come. He was never really good at staying under his parents' radar, and now that he had “betrayed the family” , he reckoned that things would only get worse. 

Sirius refused to think about it any further. There wasn’t anything he could do about his situation, really. No amount of feeling sorry for himself was going to change anything. Still, when his lacerations throbbed painfully alongside his numerous bruises, he felt a pit in his stomach beginning to grow. The pain in his head was growing worse by the minute. 

Just then, Sirius heard it. Regulus’s voice, out in the hallway. His stomach twisted. He wanted to see Regulus, but he wasn’t sure he wanted Regulus to see him like this. It was probably traumatizing, for a kid. But then he heard another voice, as well, and he knew exactly why Regulus was there. 

“You’ll need to help him tonight, Regulus,” Walburga told Regulus coldly. There was no trace of the fiery anger in her voice when she spoke to Regulus, however. Sirius tried not to let that make him jealous. 

“I thought…” Regulus began, quietly, as if he wasn’t sure how to put it, “I thought Kreacher usually-”

“He does.” Walburga cut him off, and Sirius could tell just by the tone of her voice that she was getting annoyed. It made him shudder involuntarily. “Your father and I thought you could benefit from this arrangement, however,” she explained, “that way you’ll understand exactly what happens when you don’t honor the traditions and wishes of the family.” 

There was a long pause after that. She’d said it in a roundabout way, but Sirius understood. She wanted Regulus to see what they’d done to him. To understand that they could do it to Regulus too, if he wasn’t careful. It made Sirius feel sick to think about. 

“Yes, Maman,” Regulus responded, sounding far off and distant. He’d understood, too, then. Sirius listened as the door was unlocked, and he didn’t miss the sound of his mothers heels clicking down the hall as she walked away. Regulus rushed in immediately, running to Sirius’s side and examining his injuries. “Sirius-” he choked out, his eyes locked onto the bloody tatter of fabric that was Sirius’s shirt. 

“I’m fine, Reg,” Sirius cut him off, not wanting to scare him, “just help me to my room, will you?” Regulus just blinked at him, like he couldn’t believe Sirius was even talking.

“Of course,” he finally said, before helping Sirius stand. Sirius didn’t miss the nervous look in his eyes, glancing back and forth between the blood on the floor and Sirius himself.

“Don’t worry,” Sirius explained hoarsely as they climbed the stairs to the bedrooms, “Kreacher will come in and clean up the blood before morning. Mother and Father won’t be mad at us for leaving it, or anything.” He hoped this would alleviate some of Reggie’s anxieties, but it just seemed to increase the worried look on his face. Regulus didn’t respond, just leading Sirius into the older boys bedroom and locking the door behind them. He began rifling through Sirius’s drawers for a pair of pajamas. 

Sirius instantly flopped onto his bed, a wave of nausea threatening to overtake him as he did. He winced when the fabric of his sheets brushed against one of his open wounds. Open wounds. Right. 

“Sirius!” Regulus scolded him right away, throwing the pair of pajamas at him, “be more careful! You’re really hurt.” He added that last part in as a whisper, as if the quieter he said it the less true it was. 

“I’m fine,” Sirius said, shaking his head (and ignoring the pounding headache that intensified as he did so, that growing nausea threatening to erupt from him at any moment), “I just need some bandages,” he added, looking down at the ragged remains of his shirt. The Lacero spell had cut straight through it, in most places, meaning most of his lashes were visible. The cuts were large, red, angry. They throbbed horribly, and the burning hadn’t subsided at all. If anything, the pain from his mothers spells had only been amplified by the beating from this father. The bleeding was less intense by now, but it hadn’t stopped completely, and the blood was beginning to get onto Sirius’s bedsheets. 

“Right,” said Regulus, his brows furrowed together, “I’ll go ask Kreacher to fetch us some. I’ll be right back,” he added, lingering in the doorway, “I promise.” He clearly didn’t want to leave, even for a second. 

Sirius smiled at him. “I know. Go on, I need to get changed anyway.” Regulus seemed to accept this, nodding before quickly leaving to find the house elf. Sirius released a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. A bone deep tiredness clung to him, and he swayed dangerously as he changed out of his day clothes and into his pajamas. His clothing stuck to the wounds in most places, leaving Sirius wincing in pain every time he had to peel back fabric from his battered skin. He glanced at himself in his standing mirror for a moment before quickly looking away, his stomach twisting and contorting. It looked like his mother had used him as a cutting board. His father hadn’t been gentle, either, deep purple and yellow bruises starting to form all over him. He shook off the disturbing image, pulling his pajama shirt over his head and trying to ignore the searing pain in his head when he did. Why did his head hurt so bloody bad?

Just as Sirius finished changing, Regulus came back into the room, a roll of bandages clasped tightly in his hand. “Sit on your bed,” Regulus ordered, “We’ll start with your legs.” Sirius obliged, too tired and disoriented to really even consider doing anything else. He pulled up his pajama pants and stared at the floor, wordless as Regulus began to work. His mind felt jumbled, so many intense emotions and thoughts swirling around him all at once so quickly Sirius felt as though he couldn’t keep up. He looked at Regulus, at his baby brother, his best friend, his only anything for so long, and he felt a swell of rage engulf him as he watched the younger boy dress his wounds. 

He had been so excited to see his brother, and his parents had taken that away from him too. The first time Regulus and Sirius get to interact in months, and of course it’s tainted by everything his parents have done. More like by everything you’ve done, Sirius found himself thinking, If you hadn’t embarrassed the family none of this would be happening. A shameful sort of feeling melded together with his anger. Regulus finished with his legs, and Sirius lifted his shirt so that he could get at the larger wounds, ignoring the gasp that left his little brother's lips as he did so. He couldn’t even look at Regulus, right now. The shame and the rage and the fear… it was all too much.

Regulus didn’t say anything, either. There wasn’t much either of them could say. Not when Sirius was covered in gashes and bruises and blood, anyway. Not when their parents were the reason. Regulus finished wrapping the wounds, frowning to himself in thought as he rolled what was left of the bandages back up. He sat down on the bed next to Sirius, and still, neither of them said a word. It went on like that for another few minutes, the two brothers sitting silently side-by-side, staring at the wall, settling into the weight of what their parents were capable of.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” It was Sirius who broke the silence. He never wanted this to be Regulus’s burden to carry, too. 

“It’s not like I don’t know it's happening, even when they have Kreacher do this part,” he replied simply after a minute. Sirius frowned. 

“I’m sorry. I try to protect you from it-” he began, but Regulus cut him off.

“I know you do,” he started with a frown, as if the fact left a sour taste in his mouth, “I just wish I could help more. I should’ve helped more. I knew they were going to do it…” he whispered the last part, but Sirius didn’t miss it. 

“They told you?”

“Not exactly… but I just knew. They way they’ve been acting… They’ve just been different, ever since you got sorted. They’re always talking about you being corrupted, and how important the family name is, and how there are mudbloods all over Hogwarts…and… and.. they’re so angry all the time, Sirius. It's just been hard without you here.” Sirius grimaced at Regulus’s language, but he knew that his brother was only repeating what he surely must have been hearing every day. He also didn’t like the way Regulus finished what he was saying… “They’re so angry all the time, Sirius. It’s been hard without you here.” 

Sirius snapped his head up to meet Regulus’s eyes, and he ignored the way his ears rang as he did so. His head was still pounding to a nearly unbearable degree. His neck felt very stiff, too, but that seemed less important. “What do you mean 'it's been hard’? They haven’t… they haven’t hurt you, have they Regulus?” Sirius fought to keep his tone even. Mother and Father had never hurt Regulus before. If they’d started to this year, that could only mean that it was because of Sirius. The fact that he was a Gryffindor. The fact that he’d left at all. It was all Sirius’s fault.

Regulus shook his head, but there was something hidden behind his eyes. Something dark, something lonely. “Hurting you hurts me,” is all he supplied. Sirius just nodded, not wanting to pry. Not right now, anyway. His brain felt like it was on fire. Everything felt all wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, not with Regulus. They were supposed to tell each other everything. They were supposed to be laughing together, and pranking the portraits, and playing Quidditch in the yard. 

Sirius shifted, moving slowly as he got under his covers. Regulus moved to get up, but Sirius grabbed his hand, lifting up the blanket. “Get under with me?” He asked, his words laced with desperation. He did not want to be alone. Despite the exhaustion that clung to him, and the intense pain he was in, he could not trust himself to sleep. Regulus smiled, perhaps the first genuine facial expression Sirius had seen on him since he’d been back. The younger boy climbed into the bed, getting under the covers and staring intensely at the ceiling. He was avoiding looking at him, Sirius noticed. “Do you want to hear about Hogwarts?” Sirius questioned excitedly, “It’s been bloody brilliant!” Regulus turned toward him, nodding enthusiastically, although still not really meeting his eyes.

“Tell me something happy,” he pleaded, and Sirius smiled, trying to come up with his favorite story from his time at school so far. 

“Well, I made the most amazing friends,” he began, and something shifted in Regulus’s face, but he didn’t interrupt. “James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. We call ourselves the marauders.”

“Why?”

“Something to do with Snivellus, if I remember correctly. We pull a lot of pranks, and I think he called us that once after we got him.”

“Whose Snivellus? Is that a teacher?” Sirius laughed, putting his hand over his mouth to stifle the sound. He would have to tell the rest of the marauders what Regulus just said. Severus Snape? A professor? It was just about the most ridiculous idea Sirius had ever heard. 

“No,” Sirius continued, still fighting giggles, “No. Snivellus is just some bloke from Slytherin house. He’s a right nasty git.”

“Oh. Why?” Regulus seemed far away. 

“He’s just nasty. He’s stuck up and mean, and he drones on and on about blood purity just like Mother and Father do. Just makes me angry, really,” He explained. He wanted to change the subject. Neither Snivellus nor blood purity was something he wanted to be talking about right now. “Anyways, the rest of the marauders and I are best mates. It’s really brilliant, being at Hogwarts, Reggie, I think you’re going to love it,” he added, trying to lighten the mood.

“It sounds nice. I’m glad you’ve been having a good time,” Regulus smiled tightly, and Sirius could tell there was still something the younger boy wasn’t saying. He still wasn’t meeting his eyes. 

“Are you okay, Regulus? You know you can tell me if something is going on,” Sirius blurted out, maybe untactfully. He knew Regulus had never been one to talk about his feelings, especially not when it came to Mother and Father. Sirius understood. He was that way, too… but it was usually easier, with Regulus. Regulus was the only one who could really understand. 

“I’m fine,” his brother retorted, too quickly, “I just don’t like seeing you hurt, s’all,” he yawned. It was nearly one in the morning. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t write,” Sirius tried again, trying a more subtle approach, “I didn’t want my letters to get intercepted.”

“I’m not mad at you for not writing, Sirius,” Regulus quipped, turning again to lay on his back, “I knew why.”

“So you aren’t mad at me, then?” Sirius asked, and Regulus sighed heavily. He furrowed his brows, threading the comforter between his fingers as if he was deep in thought. 

“I’m not… mad at you,” Regulus finally replied after a moment, “I’m worried about you. I know you like to instigate them, sometimes, and–”

“I didn’t instigate them! It’s not my fault-” Sirius began arguing, but Regulus shushed him.

“Be quiet! You’ll wake them up. I know you can’t exactly choose your house, and I’m not saying that this is your fault or anything, but Sirius… you have to be more careful. You can’t keep pulling pranks all the time at school, because Bellatrix writes to her every time, and she always gets so mad, going on and on about how bad she's going to- to-” he cut himself off. 

Sirius knew what he was trying to say. He didn’t want to think about it, but the dull throb of his wounds kept the events of the night at the forefront of his mind. Of course his mother had been receiving letters for his misbehavior at Hogwarts. He’d already assumed she’d received something regarding the high amount of detentions he’d had, but to hear Bellatrix had been writing to her personally about it made his stomach churn with anxiety. Bellatrix loved chaos, and she hated Sirius. He was sure that he did not come off very favorable in those letters. He let his focus drift back to his brother. Regulus seemed genuinely displeased with Sirius for getting himself into trouble, or for angering their parents, or for some amalgamation of the two. 

“I’m sorry that you have to hear her talk like that,” Sirius said quietly, not really knowing what to say.

“It’s fine,” Regulus replied, yawning again, “Just stop it with the pranks. You need to keep your head down.” Sirius fought the urge to scoff at that. Stop the pranks? That was like asking him to stop breathing, or stop eating. Mischief was an integral part of him, not to mention an integral part of his friendship with the rest of the marauders. 

“I’ll be more careful,” is all he could think to say. Maybe he could figure out a way to get Bellatrix to stop writing to her? He could also try and do something about potential letters from Professor McGonagall. 

“I mean it, Sirius. I don’t want to see them hurt you like this again. I know you like to mess around, but we’re getting older and I don’t think Mother is going to let it slide anymore.”

“I know,” said Sirius grimly, although he wanted to point out that Mother had never really let it slide when he was mischievous. He just wanted this conversation to be over. He wasn’t in the headspace to be thinking about his mother right now. Everytime he tried, his head started pounding worse and his vision got all strange. 

“You look like you need sleep,” Regulus said, clearing his throat. He was clearly done talking about this, too. “I’ll see if I can get a health potion from Kreacher for you in the morning.” 

“Okay,” Sirius nodded, “thank you.” Regulus got up to leave before lingering in the doorway for a moment. He looked at Sirius with a strange expression, as if trying to read him. Neither of them said anything. It was kind of awkward. It had never been awkward before, with Regulus. 

Regulus shut the door quietly. Sirius turned on his side to face the wall, wincing in pain as he did so. His head continued to pound, and it felt like his brain was trying to burst out of his skull. Perhaps he had a concussion? Maybe he could go to Madam Pomphrey when he got back to school. Although, how was he supposed to explain how he’d gotten hurt?

He brushed off the dilemma, too tired to truly think through it. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine he was falling asleep in his dorm room, surrounded by his friends. He prayed he wouldn’t have any nightmares.

The nightmares, of course, came regardless.