A/N: For the Houses Competition

House: Ravenclaw

Category: Themed

Prompt: Promises are the biggest lies in the world

Word count: 2053

Sirius remembers a time when words used to fall so easily from his lips, when they were his to manipulate as he so chose. A time when lies he called promises were in abundance, and he had everything he could ever want in the palm of his hand. Now, those words choke him as they stick in his throat, and they twist his tongue into tangled knots. Now, like everything, they have left him, almost like he never had them at all.

In those days, he was master of his own fate. He did whatever he wanted because no one was around to stop him. Sirius wishes now that they had been. Perhaps things would have been different that way.

He doesn't know how to make up for what he's done, what he hasn't done. Redemption was a nice thought, once upon a time, but once upon a time is for fairy tales, where promises are always kept and bad things never happen. Here, in this world, 'promise' is a seven letter word, empty like all the rest, and bad things are often more common than the good ones. It is a miserable existence he leads, always in search of redemption where he knows that there can be none. And yet he can't seem to stop himself from looking anyway. He knows that there will be no forgiveness for him, but if he can find even a shred of redemption, well. He'll take what he can get.

He never realised it when he was younger, but he thinks that he has always been this way. He has always been doomed to destroy the only people he's ever loved, his only weapons his silver tongue and false promises. He never cared for his parents, for they were cruel and wicked and cowardly. Most of his family were the same - Bellatrix and Narcissa the worst of them - but there were some whom he was fond of. Andromeda has always been his favourite cousin, and he is glad that she has found some happiness in her life. It's the least she deserves.

And then there was Regulus.

Sirius and his brother were not close as children, and the chance to see how they would have been as adults was snatched away from them. He had thought that Regulus was the same as the rest of them, for their mother doted on him, and he had seemed ready to uphold the Black family name in ways that Sirius never could. Regulus was the perfect son, and Sirius resented him for it.

But sometimes, he wonders. He understands now that an older sibling has a duty of care to their younger brothers and sisters - an unspoken promise, if you will - and he thinks that perhaps he failed Regulus. Perhaps he could have taught his little brother everything their parents would not, and maybe, just maybe, things would have worked out different. Regulus would have known that pure-bloods were no better than muggleborns, he would never have joined the Death Eaters, and Voldemort would never have murdered him. But Sirius had refused to even look at his brother, and Regulus had died.

(At Hogwarts, he had seen Peter as the little brother he never had. Peter joined the Death Eaters, too.)

Yet, it isn't just his family that Sirius seeks redemption for. If it had just been them, perhaps Sirius could rest, because there was precious little love lost between them. But there are so many other people who have had the misfortune to cross paths with him and, as it always is, had turned to dust at his touch.

He would kiss Marlene McKinnon in the broom cupboards at Hogwarts, would whisper promises of protection and love in her ears. Marlene would kiss him back and murmur that she knew, but that he shouldn't make such promises in times like those. But Sirius did, and Marlene McKinnon died.

He never expected to keep those promises, because young love (if it can be called love at all) is fleeting, and passion such as theirs is never meant to last. But her name is yet another that weighs against his conscience, that whispers liarliarliar as he tries to sleep at night, and he knows that he should have protected her. If nothing else, she was a part of the Order, and they were a family.

There are more, of course, more people that he failed to protect and whom he needs to pay penance for. But it is not them, nor Regulus, nor Marlene whose names weigh the heaviest against his soul. That spot on his list is reserved for five other people, whom he had loved with all he had, and whom he had destroyed with such a force as he did not know he possessed. Perhaps he had loved them too much, because he knows now that love can be as cruel as it is beautiful.

The four of them had been inseparable at Hogwarts. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. Remove one and it no longer sounds the same. In retrospect, it all seems silly and juvenile now, but it was a symbol of their friendship and that unspoken promise to keep each other safe. As a young boy, that promise was the only thing Sirius had to hold onto. It seems like some sort of poetic cruelty that he is now the one seeking the non-existent redemption for breaking it.

(He thinks that, in a way, perhaps they all lied when they made that promise.)

(He knows that, in every way, he was the reason the others had to lie)

Peter was the first to go. Of the four of them, he was always the quietest, surpassing even Moony in that regard, the most unassuming. He had latched onto James and Sirius, and a part of Sirius had hated him for that, although he was mostly happy for the attention back then.

Peter always seemed younger than the rest of them somehow, and they had all felt that they had to protect him. He was small and timid and often cowardly, which had made him easy fodder for bullies like Severus Snape. They had tried to shield him as much as they could, because that's what friends do, but sometimes it was hard because, well, they were the ones doing the bullying. It wasn't much, and it wasn't often, but Peter was so easy to make fun of, and it was all just a game to them; they didn't think it actually bothered him.

("Promise you won't leave me behind this time?" Peter asked, eyes wide and pleading.)

(They had promised him they wouldn't, but they did anyway. Peter found them an hour later in the common room, shit-eating grins on their faces. He had sighed and headed to the dorm. James and Sirius kept laughing.)

Peter had grown more distant from them after school, but they thought it was just him learning how to be his own person, without friends to protect him. They hadn't known what had really been going on, even though all the signs had been there. Peter felt abandoned, lied to, upset, and he had turned because of it. Because of them.

Sirius hates Peter for what he did, hates that he is forced to languish in the cell with Peter Pettigrew's name on it, but he also pities him. And he regrets. He wishes that he could turn back time and make up for all of it and redeem himself in Peter's eyes. But he can't, and Peter is now forever lost to the good that his heart had once been so full of.

(Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs)

James was Sirius's best friend. After Sirius had arrived at the Potters' doorstep the night he had run away from home, the two of them swore a blood pact in the middle of the night, promising that they would never neglect or betray the other. It was a promise Sirius had sworn to himself that he would keep, if it was the last thing he did. And then, in James's moment of greatest need, Sirius had forgotten that promise and thrown him to the wolves.

Oh, Voldemort might have been the one to cast the spell, Peter might have been the one to betray James and Lily, but, ultimately, it all leads back to Sirius. He hadn't trusted himself enough, because he was always too loud, too boisterous, the first to let slip any secret. He hadn't wanted the same to happen to them. He would die before betraying them, but he thought Peter would, too.

James had been the best man he ever knew, sweet Lily the kindest woman, both dead because Sirius hadn't been able to keep a simple promise. And Harry. Poor, young Harry. When he became godfather, Sirius had sworn a solemn oath to protect and care for the boy, and now he can't even uphold that.

Sirius thinks that these are the promises he needs the most redemption for. James and Lily suffered the worst fate imaginable for his betrayal, and now poor Harry will suffer too. Sirius lived a childhood without parents and he would not wish it upon anyone, least of all Harry, because he knows that he would have had a happy life had it not been for Sirius.

(Moony and Padfoot)

He can't imagine the betrayal Remus felt when he heard about James and Lily's deaths. For all he knew, Sirius had kept his promise to be Secret Keeper, only to later break their trust in the worst way possible. Sirius knows that he is deserving of Remus's contempt, but he wishes that it wasn't under these circumstances. He can't bear thinking that Remus hates him, because Sirius had loved him, far more than he had ever loved Marlene. That had been a silly teenage rush of passion, but what he had had with Remus had been special. Sirius has never felt that way about anyone else, but he had broken it before it could turn into something more.

He had made promises to Remus, too - promises of love, promises of friendship, promises that of course he would protect James and Lily's secret; he would take it to the grave if necessary.

(He did take it to the grave - their grave)

Remus had believed those promises, had murmured I know into Sirius's hair, and Sirius's heart had swelled with pride and determination that he would never hurt Remus, not if he could help it. Back then, he had thought that he never could hurt Remus, because the mere concept was simply unfathomable. Of course, he hadn't known back then the liar he would turn out to be.

As he sits in his cell in Azkaban, Sirius thinks on everything he's done wrong. The promises turned lies keep racking up in his head, and his road to redemption stretches on longer with each passing day. It's enough to drive him insane, if not for the hope he still foolishly holds onto that one day he can at least try and make up for everything he's done, even if it kills him.

He comes to realise that Remus is the only person who can grant him redemption. Remus is the last one left who hasn't been killed or turned by Sirius's stupid mistakes which have led them all here. He longs to escape, to breathe fresh air again, to explain himself to Remus. He wants to feel Remus's arms around him once more, imagines whispering I'm sorry as tears fill both of their eyes, and Remus says I forgive you back. It's a dream that he lives on for a long time, until reality catches up with him and he is reminded that the past is but a fairy tale, a dream that can never come true.

He dies a little inside at that realisation, because no matter what he does, Remus will never see him for the person he once was. War and death and lies have made monsters of every one of them, Sirius most of all, and he thinks now that he will be unrecognisable to the man he once loved.

Not that it matters now. They've all gone away, and Sirius is left alone with no one but four damp walls and Dementors for company.

(Padfoot)

A/N: I am aware that this is a hot mess, and I apologise for that. Please leave a review if you have a moment. Bye!