This is my newest story. I'm not really sure where I'm going with this or when I'll get around to updating it. I hope to finish it this summer while I still have time to mess around with FanFictions and whatnot. It is RL/SB slash. That is my only warning. Enjoy!
Chapter One
Sirius,
I am very upset with the decisions you have been making. Since school and before. I could always sense there was something severely wrong with you. You have become this family's greatest disappointment. In all the centuries of the Blacks' great lineage, you are the worst. You have tarnished our name and poisoned our blood, associating with filth like that Evans Mudblood and that Lupin boy. You do know what he is, don't you? You're a foolish boy, Sirius. Certainly no son of mine. I do not expect to see you home this summer, or any other holiday forthwith.
Signed,
Orion Black
Sirius Black glared into his eggs and sausage, crumpling the weathered parchment and tossing it down beside his plate. Suddenly, his appetite had dissipated, along with his right to a home and bed, apparently. Not that he could complain too much about that. He never could consider that monstrosity hidden on Grimmauld Place a home. It had always been a prison to him. This should make him happy, shouldn't it? Now he didn't have to walk out on his family as he had been planning to do just this summer. Had the letter been in his mother's loops and curls, maybe he would have been happy to receive it, but seeing his father's scrawl had done something to him. He always felt a slight connection to his father; closer than any connection he felt to anyone else in his immediate family. That was just another Black family lie, he supposed.
"What is it, mate?" asked the messy haired, popular Gryffindor Sirius was more than glad to consider his best friend. James Potter was staring at him with raised eyebrows through his circular glasses. Sirius shrugged in response, picking up his fork to prod his scrambled eggs, not intending to consume a bite of them.
Remus Lupin put down the morning's copy of the Daily Prophet, frowning in Sirius' direction. He reached an arm across the table, gently draping his fingers over Sirius' wrist, silently begging him to speak. Concern was written across his face, etched into the lines his forehead had creased into. Sirius looked up at him, almost sheepishly, locking eyes with the boy. He nudged the crumpled letter with his elbow, inviting Remus to read it. Using the same hand he had rested on Sirius' arm, Remus plucked the parchment from the table as if it were diseased, and unfolded it with a loud crinkle. His eyes skimmed the ink, his brow creasing deeper. His eyes flashed in Sirius' direction when he read the line about himself. Sirius could almost feel the guilt radiating off the tawny-haired boy across from him.
"Remus," he said, quietly, a smoldering ember burning in his eyes, "Don't you dare blame yourself for this. Don't you dare." He wasn't angry with the lycanthrope, but he couldn't bear to let the boy stress himself over Sirius' problem by taking the blame unto himself. Remus had enough to deal with these days, what with maintaining his perfect grades as well as his monthly predicament.
Through the whole ordeal, James had merely stared at the two, watching Remus work his magic on his best friend. It was something James could never do, get Sirius to talk freely about his deepest problems. Only when the boy wanted to talk, would he come to James. That was perfectly fine with the bespectacled boy. He knew his place, and he was content to have it.
Remus placed the letter upon the table next to his plate, shifting his newspaper nervously. "Well, whom else do you suppose we should blame?"
As they spoke, James took the letter and read it through quickly. Before Sirius could speak, James replied. "Remus, he's right. It's no more your fault than mine. And Sirius was planning to leave this summer anyways, right?" He looked at Sirius, who nodded at the two boys across from him. "See?" James continued. "Now he doesn't have to worry about leaving. He doesn't even have to go back in the first place."
Sirius couldn't help but grin. James had taken the thoughts right out of his head and put them into words. He was good at that. Remus sat back, folding his hands complacently in his lap. Whether over something good or bad, a battle fought against Sirius and James was never won by the one who opposed them. Remus took his loss in stride, nodding once to each of them and keeping his tongue still while his thoughts raced.
James was more than satisfied with his nod, turning back to his breakfast as though he had never turned away from it. Sirius, however, knew better. He knew Remus would be the one to realize there was something more than meets the eye troubling Sirius; something James hadn't caught. He looked into Remus' golden eyes for a long moment, knowing Remus understood, knowing they would talk later. Just as quickly as their gazes had met, Remus turned back to the Daily Prophet, leaving Sirius to his thoughts and a cold, uninviting breakfast.
The day seemed to inch by, as it always did when Sirius was anticipating something. Today, he was anxious to reach his break just after lunch, before his last class. It was then that he knew he and Remus would be able to talk, undisturbed. James would let them be, if asked, and Peter Pettigrew would follow him anywhere, as always. Now, time just needed to pass a little bit faster, so Sirius could reach his break.
Minute after agonizing minute, lunch came and went and Sirius was free to search the Gryffindor Tower for Remus. He wasn't hard to locate. As was customary, Mr. Lupin was seated with his back to the door in one of the puffy, red armchairs before the empty grate of the fireplace. There was a thick volume in his lap. Sirius wasn't sure if it was a textbook or a book for leisure. Either way, he knew he would have to pry it away from the lycanthrope's scarred hands if he wished to speak with him.
To his surprise, his assumptions were wrong. As soon as Sirius sprawled himself across Remus and his self-claimed chair, he lowered his book, not with a roll of his eyes, but with a look of genuine concern. Not only did he take his eyes away from the pages, but he allowed the book to thump to the floor in a haphazard state, something Remus Lupin didn't do lightly. Sirius had indeed taken the empty common room as an invitation to openly show his affections. Remus didn't mind; he never minded these moments where he and Sirius could be natural in a public area, even if it only occurred when that area was unpopulated. Sirius sat gracefully upon Remus' lap, allowing his head to dangle over one arm of the chair, his legs over the other. He wrapped an arm behind Remus' neck, playing with the short hairs that grew from its base, using his free hand to shield his eyes from the demons he knew this conversation would unleash.
They sat this way in silence for several minutes, Sirius swinging a leg against the couch, Remus tracing patterns upon the boy's knee. After the day's agonizing sluggishness, the boys chose to spend their time together in silence. Remus realized this first, and started the conversation they had both been dreading and desiring all day.
Unfolding the letter from Sirius' father, Remus smoothed it out across Sirius' thigh. "Why does this bother you so much, Siri?" he asked, furrowed brow back in its usual place upon his forehead. "I thought this was what you wanted." The lycanthrope peered down at his partner, watching as he signed heavily, still covering his eyes with his graceful fingers.
With his free hand, he wadded the letter into a tight, crumpled ball, lobbing it into the fire with excellent skill. "Forget the letter, Remus" he commanded without force, removing his fingers from his vision, choosing instead to gaze up into the golden eyes wistfully. "It's not important." He wanted to believe himself almost as much as Remus wanted to believe him. But they both knew better. He could put it off and allow it to blow up in his face down the road, or he could enlighten Remus now lightening his heavy heart in the process.
As the parchment curled and burned in the fire, Remus waited in silence for his partner to speak. He knew he would in time. Sirius just always needed time. After several minutes, Remus patiently rested his head back upon the chair he and Sirius occupied, closing his eyes leisurely. His fingers were absent-mindedly stroking through Sirius' ink-stained tresses. It was a rare, peaceful moment between the two boys. It seemed, neither wished to ruin it. This, apparently, was all a part of Sirius' plan. Yes, he had waited all day to sit here and confide his deepest pains in the werewolf, but now that the time had come, he no longer wished to say a word. He eased himself off the lycanthrope's lap, standing beside the boy still relaxing in the chair.
Holding a hand out, Sirius whispered, "Come on, Remus."
Remus took his hand with a raised eyebrow, stooping to grab his nearly-forgotten tome before Sirius gently tugged him towards the stairs and, beyond that, their dormitory. Remus dropped his eyebrow with an inward chuckle. Even when Sirius' greatest desire is to converse with his partner, he somehow seems to overwhelm this desire with a whole new kind. As they climbed the steps to their room, Sirius peered back at his partner, and Remus saw the yearning in his eyes. This was just one more piece of Sirius that Remus has learned to accept and love. He often hid what was difficult for him to deal with behind sex. And Remus could not blame him. Temporary bliss to cover torment was something Remus could easily relate to. It was for this reason that he never forced Sirius to speak; he allowed Sirius his pleasure with the silent promise that they would discuss things at some other time.
Door closed. Locking charm. Silencing charm. Life is good. For the moment, at least.
