Oh God, my first Story in English. I hope, there aren't to much mistakes but I'm afraid so. It's quite short and it was quite difficult to write, too. But it doesn't belong to any of my other stories.
I do not own Sirius Black or James Potter (or the location), JKR didn't want to let them go However, I think the idea is mine
Summary: Why did Sirius run away from home? And – what kept him there all the time?
Lost
Sirius did not like Christmas. In fact, Sirius hated it like nothing else. At Christmas, Sirius had to go home, had to leave Hogwarts, had to leave his best friends and he missed the fantastic Christmas meal.
But the real reason, the true cause for his negative attitude wasn't to find in one of these matters. The reason was sitting at home, waiting for Sirius in a big armchair, dressed in a ostentatious, glamorous, old gown which descended from the baroque period or something around that. He could see his mother's black hair shining like a diamond dipped in ink, her cruel grin when he appears in the room, with fear in his heart. Sirius never cried, he never screamed, but he could see the most hated face, full off satisfaction, pointing the dark wand with small eyes on his body.
So why did he come back home, every summer, every winter, all the years? What element was strong enough to hold him there? His room, decorated with pictures of muggle girls, motorbikes and a musing Moony, a laughing Prongs and a reverential Wormtail? Not strong enough, at all.
His brother occurred on his mind, smiling at him with glinting eyes, a little bit shy in his own way. This one-year-younger boy, loved by his parents, and loved by his brother who knows about the little secrets between them.
Strong enough? Yes, in some extraordinary kind of way. Sirius wanted to rescue him before the Dark Magic could reach him, before Death Eaters could poison him.
But this year things changed. This year his brother was strange. Sirius noticed it when he appeared at the fireplace in the kitchen. No one there to hug him. No one there … expect for his mother sitting in a chair.
"Sirius, my dear … come in."
Oh hell, how friendly she could be, how canting. He felt sick to his stomach. Where was his brother?
"Where is Regulus?" he asked and looked around.
"At his fathers office" she hissed and pointed his wand directly on his chest. In this Moment, he knew it. Deeply inside of him he felt the coldness, the darkness, creeping upwards his back. He missed the change, he fell down, he lost his brother to the Dark Side.
Something inside of him broke apart. Something in his heart, in his soul. He could listen to the crack in his chest and the switch in his head shifted. He turned around, back to the fireplace and heard the irate shrieks of his mother but it didn't matter. What should keep him in this house except of his brother? The answer was in his mind like something bad and heavy – nothing.
He didn't notice where he travelled. All he wanted was to disappear far, far away. Sirius whirled on his own axis, faster and faster, then his legs hit the ground, and he started coughing the ash out of his lungs.
Prongs looked up surprised when Sirius fell in the cosy living room. But then he saw his face and he didn't ask. He never questioned when Padfoot hunted for a good place to hide. James knew about his terrible family and he understood. He always understood.
Padfoot didn't need words to make Prongs understand.
The first time in his life he felt like coming home, except went to Hogwarts. The first time in his life he knew where the people are who loved him.
Maybe this Christmas would become better all Christmases so far.
Caro