Sirius panicked as soon as he heard. 'Attack at Marlene's, she's fine, come to St Mungo's' was all that James' patronus had said, but Sirius didn't believe that she was fine; he had to see it.
When he finally reached the ward after nearly cursing the receptionist witch who had made him fill out a form, he was not satisfied. Lying in a bed, her face covered in bruises and the rest of her covered in a sheet, was Marlene.
"What happened?" Sirius asked as James looked up. Sirius sat in the chair opposite him and instinctively took Marlene's hand in his.
"There was an attack, Marlene was Crucio'd for about five minutes, and a rib was broken – they fixed that. They haven't fixed her cheekbone yet, said they've got more important things to do." James paused. "Her dad and Adam are fine, they Stunned two of the attackers, Adam got cut pretty deep but he's alright. Her mum isn't, she was Crucio'd for much longer." James stopped again, struggling with the next two words. "Amy's dead."
"Oh God." Sirius was at a loss for words – little Amy was three years below them, a near exact replica of Marlene. And now she was gone.
"I've got to go check on mum and dad, they're handling the investigation." James stood, levelling a pointed gaze at Sirius. "Don't leave her." He said with a nod towards the unconscious Marlene lying in the hospital bed.
Sirius wasn't insulted by his friend's wariness, he expected it. "As if I could." He whispered once James left, and he leant his head back a little, closing his eyes to block out the sight of Marlene.
"How many?" Sirius jolted back into wakefulness – he hadn't even realised Marlene was awake.
"What?" He asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a free hand.
"How many of my family were killed?" It sounded so blunt, having the words said aloud as her eyes blazed from underneath the bruises and the cuts and the broken cheekbone.
"Your mum's critical, Adam and your dad are fine." Sirius paused, not wanting to say it. But leaving it unsaid was enough.
"Amy?" It was a whisper of a question, one that didn't really require an anser, but Sirius felt compelled to give one anyway.
"She died, Marls. I'm so sorry." A sob tore through her body, so violent a noise that Sirius jumped. Marlene freed her hand from his, buried her face in her hands and wailed, so loud that a nurse came running into the room, eyes bleary and hair a mess.
"Is she alright? Should I…?" Her hand hovered near the button that would knock her out, but Sirius shook his head, and cast a silencing charm, waiting for the nurse to leave before climbing into the bed with Marlene.
"Get away from me, get away from me." Marlene screamed, pushing and clawing at him when he locked his arms around her. But he knew this stage, it was self-punishing and withdrawal and he wouldn't leave her alone to suffer through it.
"It will be fine, it will be okay." Sirius rocked her as he said it, the lies coming much easier now than before because he needed to make this right; he needed to fix this.
"No it won't." Marlene whispered hoarsely an hour later, after she was all screamed out. "It won't ever be okay again." She fell asleep soon after, leaving Sirius with the words which he knew were true, but Merlin how he wished she didn't know it. So he kissed her lightly on the lips and fell asleep with her head on his chest.
Marlene didn't speak to him the morning after, she didn't speak to him when she arrived home and he was there, she didn't speak to him until after the funeral, when he waited for hours until all the guests had moved away from the grave - all except her.
"Marlene." He called, knowing it was the wrong time to do it but needing to, anyway, because while he'd lost some Black traits selfishness was not one of them.
"No."
He pulled up short. "What?"
"I said no. I don't want to hear it." Marlene hadn't turned around, so he couldn't see her face.
"Don't want to hear what?" Sirius stood next to her, reaching for her hand, but she pulled away.
"Your condolences; your suggestions; your sympathy." She looked him straight in the eye. "It's all a load of bullshit."
Sirius swallowed. "Actually, I was wondering if you ever planned to talk to me again." It sounded self-involved even to him, but it made her laugh. A bitter, empty laugh, but a laugh all the same.
"Yes, probably." She replied abruptly.
"Do you know when?" Sirius hated the neediness in his voice, but he let it surface, hoping it would reach Marlene through the haze of her grief.
"When I can look at you and not be reminded of the night my sister died." Marlene's response stunned him, and he stood staring at Amy's grave even after Marlene left, knowing that that might've been the last time he'd speak to her.