Sirius closed his fist tight around the parchment, his nails tearing through the words written there as the words had tore through him. Words written in that spiky scrawl he'd grown to hate, words that caused angry tears to prick his eyes.
Those tears, rather than easing the pain, had fuelled his anger, and he felt his fist holding the parchment connect painfully with the stone wall. His hand was closed so tightly his knuckles appeared white; the skin was grazed and droplets of blood oozed over the back of his hand. That would bruise later but he found he didn't care a bit. He almost relished the pain; it allowed him to block out the hurt he refused to feel inside. Refused to admit he felt inside.
Sirius absently rubbed his bleeding knuckles with his left hand and crawled up onto the windowsill. The window of the Gryffindor boys' dormitory overlooked the sloping lawns leading down to the Forbidden Forest; smoke curled upwards in a steady stream from the chimney of Hagrid's hut and, as he watched, the first snowflakes began to fall, thickening until they obscured the window. Sirius had closed his eyes and leant his head against the window frame when he heard the footsteps on the stairs. Swinging his legs over the sill so he was standing, he furiously blinked away the tears and fixed a smile on his face. He couldn't let his guard down, couldn't admit that he was hurting. Even to himself. He was Sirius Black. Sirius was the life and soul, Sirius was always laughing, Sirius was…
"Sirius?" the dormitory door opened and James walked in, Gryffindor scarf wrapped tightly round his neck, hair wet with melted snow. "You alright mate?"
"Course," Sirius grinned, a grin which didn't quite light up his handsome face the way it usually did, "just going to send a letter…" He walked past James to the door, tucking the screwed up parchment into the pocket of his robes as he did so.
"Why didn't you come to Hagrid's? He was asking where you were."
Sirius didn't turn. "I just didn't feel like it." He was about to reach the safety of the staircase when…
"Sirius…"
He turned now. James was looking at him closely, his eyes narrowed in concern. Sirius was all too aware of his swollen, blotchy eyes and bleeding hand, which he quickly shoved into his pocket with the parchment. "I'll see you later, really got to post this letter," and he ran down the staircase and across the common room, ignoring Remus and Peter's shouts of greeting, and out through the portrait hole.
He didn't stop running until he reached the staircase leading up to the Owlery. There he dropped down onto the bottom step and buried his face in his hands. The tears spilled over before he had the chance to stop them, and why should he? He never allowed himself to break down; he wasn't supposed to break down. He felt ashamed of himself for showing weakness, and thanked God that no one was here to see it. He wondered, as he sat hunched over his knees on the staircase, why he felt this way at all. He knew as he clutched the parchment in his pocket that he shouldn't want to be part of this family anyway; the Blacks. How they could talk about purity when he had watched the last of their sympathy and mercy die away, leaving black hearts to match their name, Sirius thought it was almost laughable.
"You alright mate? James said you'd gone to post a letter but…"
Sirius felt his stomach turn over at the sudden sound and the parchment crunched within his closed fist. Remus was walking towards him with a tired gait, lank hair falling into heavy eyes. The full moon had just passed. Sirius stood up and cracked his back nonchalantly, fixing his signature smile (crooked and casual – an air of plain indifference) back onto his face.
"Right as rain," Sirius grinned, pretending to stifle a yawn, his eyes flicking past Lupin to the empty corridor behind him.
"Yeah, and I'm a vampire," Lupin smirked, making a rare joke.
"Not far off by the look of you," Sirius tried to regain his cool, eyeing Lupin's pale skin and the haunted look in his eyes.
"I could say the same about you, what's up? What's happened?"
Always so shrewd.
Remus raised his eyebrows at Sirius' silence; his lack of argument made him suspicious. Sirius breathed out sharply, making a sound halfway between a hiss and a sigh, and handed Lupin the (now slightly worse for wear), letter. Lupin's eyes flicked from left to right as they moved down the page, the creases on his forehead becoming more pronounced.
"I'm sorry mate…" he looked up and handed Sirius back the letter.
Sirius shrugged and glanced at the parchment again to avoid Lupin's look of concern, which was almost patronising:
Sirius,
We are writing to you to tell you we wish you to stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays and you will also not be welcome home during the summer. If you cannot stay at school, we will send your possessions to wherever you choose to go.
Happy Christmas.
Your parents.
Toujours pur
I bet Regulus got cheerier season's greetings. As Sirius stared at the script, he found himself smirking, a smirk which turned into a bark of laughter. Is that what he'd become? Jealous of his parents' affections for his useless younger brother? He screwed the letter up and dropped it casually on the floor, treading it beneath his foot, leaving dark lines of mud across the yellowing parchment.
"That's all it's fit for," he scoffed, turning laughing eyes on Lupin and slapping him on the back.
"But where are you going to go?" Remus was bemused and obviously thought Sirius had lost his head. Sirius shrugged.
"James'. I was going to leave anyway, they've just made it easier for me. Oh come on, Moony!" Remus still looked unsure of Sirius' sanity, "what difference does it make? I practically live at James' anyway!"
"But…are you sure you can manage? I mean, you're still only 16!"
"Manage? Have you even met the Potters?" Sirius laughed again, "I think I'll manage just fine, stop worrying!"
Now it was Lupin's turn to laugh; "Of course you're right. Blimey I'm becoming like my old dad."
"Better your old dad than mine," Sirius winked, slapping him on the back and brushing his fringe away from his eyes. He winked at a passing Hufflepuff fifth year who blushed and pulled her books closer to her chest before hurrying off down the corridor; his old swagger was back.
"Nah, we'll be alright Moony, we can look after ourselves. We're big boys now!"
Lupin raised one eyebrow (something Sirius had never managed to perfect); "I don't believe you can look after yourself for a second – not without a house elf anyway."
"Well, maybe not, but at least I'll have Mrs Potter's cooking to keep me going for a while…"
The two of them burst into guffaws of laughter again as they turned into the Fat Lady's corridor.
"Password?"
"Eggnog?"
"That was last week's Sirius…snow angel."
The Fat Lady swung open to reveal the Portrait Hole and the glowing warmth of the Gryffindor common room; "what would I do without you Moony?"
"I dread to think."