Madman

Chapter Four

"It's two in the bloody morning," somebody hissed when Sirius came into the dormitory. Light from his wand flooded across the room, but he was too wholly exhausted to care. He flicked it off and sightlessly climbed into his own bed, not bothered to change.

The person who had spoken was James, who was sitting cross-legged on his bed with the curtains pushed back. He watched Sirius in the darkness with a poisonous look on his face, and for a moment they simply stared at each other.

Then, softly, Sirius said, "What's your point?"

There was a sharp intake of breath from where James sat across the room. "Where've you been?" the boy demanded in a piercing whisper.

Sirius shrugged and shifted his weight on the mattress. And again. He couldn't seem to get comfortable. "Nowhere," he said noncommittally, and he decided to lie down instead. He pulled the covers up to his chin and tried not to look at James.

"Nowhere?" James repeated, evidently not ready to back down. "You missed dinner and you missed the moon – Remus is in the hospital wing right now, but you didn't care to notice, did you?"

Truth be told, Sirius hadn't noticed – Remus's bed was mournfully empty, the crimson curtains hanging half-open. He felt a rush of guilt, and in a valiant attempt to ignore it he said, "And what are you doing? Waiting up for me?"

"Exactly," his friend said loudly – from Peter's bed, an interruption in the snores drew their attention; and then it continued. James lowered his voice and harshly whispered, "And up until now I couldn't decide whether to ask if you were okay or to kick your ass for not showing up, and Sirius, I'm leaning toward the latter."

"Sorry if I don't feel like running all over the shop with the same bastard who gave me a black eye earlier," Sirius snapped, and in a momentary twist of irony James shifted in his spot and shadows played differently across his face so Sirius could see – he had a black eye, too.

With a small noise of regret – made far, far back in his throat, and hopefully one James hadn't heard – Sirius also observed a hand-shaped bruise under James's chin.

"James," he said suddenly, "did I do that?"

"What? Oh," his friend said in surprise, and touched his neck gingerly. All talk of the full moon was forgotten in light of their earlier altercation. "Yeah, that was you."

Sirius quickly bit out, "Sorry, mate…!" He was guilty. Here he was, whining and moping and waiting until nighttime to return to the castle, and James had been going about his day looking like someone had beaten him. And he wasn't embarrassed about it, either.

Sirius was quite sickened with himself. His own neck felt instantly cheated of a bruise and his heart of the martyrdom.

"It's fine," James said after some hesitation, and his tone was not very convincing. The boy crawled under his covers and said, "We argue over stupid shit anyway."

"I agree," Sirius said, swallowing. "Agree. And -" he laid himself exactly in the center of his four-poster "- I'm going to sleep now." Sleep, he added silently, mouthing it to feel and taste the word in his mouth. This James did not see, or he surely would've though his friend crazy.

But instead James just replied, "Yeah, and try not to talk so damn much this time."

Sirius's breath caught in his chest. "What?"

"Nothing," said the voice from across the room. He was only a few yards away, but James sounded distant and tired. "Nothing at all."

"No, what?" Sirius demanded. He fumbled in the darkness like a blind child, to find the right words to say. "I should try not to do what?"

"Talk incessantly," James said stiffly, and then he turned over and said no more.

For the remainder of the hour Sirius did not sleep. He stared wordlessly into the darkness of the dormitory, acutely aware of his heart beating, his lungs breathing, and his fingers tapping rhythmically against the sheets. He listened to the sound of his friends' breathing and then drifted off into a restless sleep.

--

Sirius woke with a start and realized immediately that he had overslept. Light streamed into the room – he had forgotten to draw the curtains around his bed – and he could hear voices from downstairs.

Peter was the only other person in the room, and he was pulling on a cloak with his back to Sirius. As if on cue, the blond boy turned around and his face arranged itself in surprise.

"Oh," he said briskly. There were pale blue circles under his eyes, which Sirius observed curiously. "You're up?"

"Yeah," Sirius said with slight irritation, "and I suppose I've missed breakfast." He pushed back his covers and sat on the edge of his bed.

Peter shrugged. "You can always go to the kitchens. It's Saturday, remember?"

"Right," he replied distractedly, pulling on fresh clothes. He could feel Peter watching him as he turned each of his socks down to an equal length, adjusting each the slightest bit at a time until he was satisfied with their symmetry. "I can't believe I slept so long…"

"You're just about the only one," Peter said under his breath. Sirius glanced up and was surprised to see hostility in his friend's eyes.

Anxiety rose up like bile in his throat and Sirius quickly stood, averting his gaze like an intimidated puppy. He padded across the room and retreated into their shared bathroom, closing the door before leaning against it, mouth gaping like a goldfish as he sucked in breath.

Anxiety – panic, even – plagued him and today was no better than the other days. He could see this would be particularly bad, as black centipedes crawled around the edges of his sight. He swayed, grabbing the door handle to support himself. His fingers drummed helplessly against it and he memorized the already-familiar rhythm.

Stop, his mind said, but his mouth was already forming the word, feeling it scrape against the back of his throat and loll of his tongue, slip between his front teeth and smack against his bottom lip. Stop.

Oh, couldn't they see how much it tortured him, this affliction? He must've been crazy, one hundred-percent crazy. But did crazy people know there was something wrong with them? Did they feel so intensely aware of everything their body did, the way their clothes lay on them, the way the air brushed on cheek and not another? Did they try to stop the horrific images or voices or ideas that came to mind?

Sirius's knees buckled, and he slid down against the door, curling up childishly. He wouldn't know the answers to any of those questions. He'd never been crazy before this.

"Sirius?" A voice tentatively called. He flinched at the sound of it – most went into his right ear, and his left ear instantly begged for compensation. He wondered vaguely if he'd be able to hear the next thing said to him only with his left ear, or if he would have to go through life with un-balanced ears from now on.

The thought maddened him to no end.

"Sirius?" said a second voice, and it was Remus's. With a start he realized he'd been in here longer than he'd thought, a few minutes more than a few minutes. "Are you okay?"

It was bitterly ironic to Sirius that his friend would inquire as to his well-being, considering the circumstances of the night before. Remus must've just returned from the hospital. He could hear Peter and the werewolf talking in hushed tones from behind the door.

"I'm fine," he croaked, and his voice came out much quieter than he'd expected, so he had to strain to hear himself. His left ear protested at the unfairness of it all. Oh, he'd never learn, would he? He cupped a hand over the right one to muffle sound for the time being.

There was a long pause and Remus finally said, "Okay." He sounded somewhat unconvinced. "James will be coming up from breakfast soon, and we're going to head outside for a bit of fresh air. Do you want us to wait for you?"

He swallowed and drummed his fingers faster against his knee. There had once been a time when they'd simply wait for him, no affirmation necessary. That time had obviously passed. "I… think I'm going to stay here," he said quickly. "You go on without me."

He heard more indeterminable whispers and then Remus said, "Got it. Come out later if you're feeling better."

Sirius waited for their footsteps to fade away before he struggled to his feet and exited the bathroom. He wasn't sure what was meant by "if you're feeling better", since he hadn't indicated he wasn't well. Probably a conclusion Peter had reached after he'd stayed quiet for ten minutes in the loo.

He finished dressing, hating the process because it was slow and meticulous, and required a lot of effort to get everything symmetrical – but it helped him stall, making sure his friends had emptied out of the common room before he went down.

Sirius wasn't entirely sure why he was avoiding them, even.

He padded into the common room, tying his crimson and gold scarf around his neck in the girlier French twist (because, frankly, he preferred its simple, bow-like descent to the lopsidedness of the usual fashion). But to his surprise, the place wasn't empty – Lily was there, digging through her rucksack with a furrowed brow.

He dropped his hands from his scarf and glided forward like he was in a dream. "Hey, Lily," he said hoarsely.

She looked up and her expression relaxed instantly. "Oh, Sirius; it's just you. Potter isn't around, is he?"

"I guess he just went outside," Sirius replied, his voice taking on a slight edge. She seemed to notice this, a kind of sorrow settling in her green, green eyes – but for all the wrong reasons. He wondered vaguely how she could understand him so well and yet overlook this one, immense aspect of their friendship…

"Have you two still not made up?" she sighed, closing her book bag. "I swear, Potter gets more and more ridiculous every day. No offense, of course – but I'm sure you know what he's doing."

Sirius's throat tightened. "I have a vague idea," he said stiffly.

Sirius and James had made up, but if that would explain his tension…

"Don't worry – I've been saying no quite regularly," Lily said gently, and for a moment he was stunned into thinking she did know and he had simply underestimated her tact. But then she added, "I know you don't want to give him up to anyone just yet…"

There she went, knowing everything she possibly could know (he truly did want to keep James forever, but…) and still applying it to the wrong context. It would've made Sirius smile if the situation wasn't so bloody depressing for him.

"How's that eye?" she asks thoughtfully, running her eyes over his face. Sirius touched it fleetingly the way James had felt his neck and jaw the night before, subconsciously searching for the bruise with his fingertips.

"It's not much better," he said honestly as he felt how swollen it was. Indeed, he couldn't see very well out of it at all, and he probably looked like shit. "It'll go down eventually, though."

Lily tugged her wand from her back pocket. "Here," she said. "Hold still."

He stiffened visibly and she ran the wand gently around his eye, tracing his tender skin in a tickling fashion. He instantly felt a warmth spread through that side of his face.

"Now it'll be gone within a few hours," Lily told him, her eyes twinkling up at him. He gave her a rare smile and was surprised to see gladness on her face for it. "You and Potter won't have matching shiners anymore."

He ran his fingertips under his chin and felt the delicate, soft skin. "Leave his on, then," he tried to joke, and it actually came out sounding somewhat light-hearted.

Lily's smile widened and she put her wand away. She patted him on the shoulder without an ounce of the patronizing manner he imagined Remus or someone might've used in such a situation. "Trust me, the last thing he needs is for someone to fix his face. He's got enough girls trialing after him now to send his ego through the roof."

One of Sirius's eyebrows went up, and Lily added slyly,

"But then again, you've got quite a few ladies at your feet, Sirius."

He blinked and opened his mouth hesitantly. "I – do?" he said, faltered. Did he? He could recall getting odd looks from girls this year, but it never had occurred to him that they might have liked him.

"Oh, yes," the red-haired girl said matter-of-factly, winking. "It seems you became quite the attractive item over the summer. I'd look out, if I were you. I already know a couple girls who are tossing around the idea of love potion."

Sirius wasn't certain he believed that but he was focused on one thing and one thing only: Lily thought he was attractive. She said so!

He stood there, unable to hear the rest of what she was saying; he was only aware of the growing danger of the situation. It was James. James was the problem. As long as he wanted to hold onto his best friend (and he did, very much so) then this hope was only a predator. It would destroy him in the end.