After the Whomping Willow
Disclaimer
Just to briefly explain this piece: it is not the entire story. Nor is it the beginning or end of the story. It is merely a little ficlet – a nugget of what could be if I actually committed myself slightly more to one particular plotline! However, if you got this link from then you are probably reading this to get an idea of what my writing is like for the "big fan-fiction project". I hope this gives you a rough outline of my skills – whilst it isn't the cheeriest of ficlets, it doesn't mean I'm only an angst writer. I can write pretty much any genre, I just prefer interesting, emotional pieces -)
Of course, in case you didn't realise (which if you didn't, you should be slapped!), I don't own these lovely boys. Sadly. Very sadly. Wish I did. But I don't. JK Rowling is practically a deity in my books, so I would never want to steal anything from her… maybe just borrow instead ;-)
Sirius Black was not a person to reveal emotions easily. Sure enough, he could act brash, arrogant or even coy when the mood suited him, but they were rarely the emotions that he was actually experiencing at the time that he portrayed them. This, however, was a situation that was possibly as far from normal as Sirius Black could possibly get.
An animalistic howl escaped Sirius' lips, shortly followed by several retching gasps. Albus Dumbledore sat opposite the teenage boy, doing nothing more than peering at his long fingers pressed together in a steeple in front of him. Another cry came from Sirius, this time forming what could almost be considered as vaguely coherent words. Sirius was not interested in being coherent. Painful sobs racked the boy's body, forcing him to bend over double in his chair. His face, half hidden by his right hand, was red and clammy. Any vestiges of handsomeness were lost in the streams of tears falling from his closed eyes. His left arm was curled around his stomach, almost as if to keep himself from being split in two by his cries. Dark hair, damp from sweat, hung like rat tails over his forehead and coiled lankly around his equally sticky neck.
For the first time in his life, Sirius Black did not look as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. He was not the attractive young man that younger girls swooned over in the corridors. He did not have his cocky manner and confident demeanour.
For the first time in his life, Sirius Black was sorry. Painfully, wretchedly, genuinely sorry.
"I am disappointed."
The three students could have dealt with shouting. They could have dealt with detentions and loss of house points, but when Dumbledore hit them with his trump card, they were all crippled with such an emotional blow that the looks of guilt that were written on their faces were, for once, genuine.
"I know how young minds work and I do understand, Mr Black, that deep down, whether you know it or not, you don't want to see Severus dead – contrary to the fiasco that occurred last night." Dumbledore looked at Sirius over his half-moon spectacles. The display that had been witnessed by Dumbledore only moments beforehand had convinced him that the boy's tears had been sincere. Sirius had hastily composed himself in the small office and waited for the headmaster to return with the other two students – despite straightening his robes and tying his hair back into a makeshift ponytail, it was obvious that he had been crying.
Lowering his eyes to briefly peer at his steepled fingers resting on his desk, Dumbledore let out a quiet sigh and then turned to James Potter.
"Although you did save Mr Snape, I am not blind to the events inside and outside of classrooms. The rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin is as old as the founders themselves and so, sadly, I expect nothing else from the interaction between the two houses." Pausing to peer at James and Severus, the thin man opposite drew a deep breath before continuing.
"I am, frankly, tired of hearing reports from teachers that you have been taunting each other, thus disrupting classes. Standing before me, I see three outstandingly clever young wizards destined to do great things in their lives. I include Mr Lupin in this praise as well. However, I feel that the only way the four of you will learn to abide each other is to learn to understand each other. In order to do this, I feel you will have to do what I shall assume each of you considers to be the worst possible solution. As you know, I rarely give orders to students – this is an exception. I believe Mr Lupin will be on full form by this Thursday. So, at 9am that day I wish to see you three plus Remus outside my office. Sharp. Any questions?"
A collective mumble of "No sir" came from the young wizards and seem to hang in the air before Dumbledore spoke again.
"Good. The day after tomorrow. 9 am. Here. Prompt. You may leave now."