Warning: Mentions of child abuse; verbal abuse
Author's Note:
So so sorry for the delay on this chapter! I just started a new job and I had a really busy few weeks. I will do my best to not have that much time in between updates again (It may take me a couple of weeks to adjust to the new job, but then I am hoping to get back to updating once or twice per week.)
This chapter picks up about two weeks after the last chapter ended. (Also, I don't like the way I end this chapter, but I really wanted to update, so...)
Please feel free to leave a review! I really appreciate them.
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(Sirius Black)
The four of them had just arrived back at the dormitory from the evening feast in the Great Hall. James was talking animatedly about how he was sure his latest attempt at convincing McGonagall to let him join the Gryffindor Quidditch team would pay off. Peter was going along with it per usual, telling James that McGonagall would have to actually want Gryffindor to lose by not allowing him on the team.
"I mean it, James" Peter went on as they each broke off to go to their respective beds. "You're probably the best chaser in the school."
Sirius thought that such a statement was ridiculous; Peter had only even seen James fly a few times, and he'd seen hardly any other student practicing – unless of course he wanted to count their first-year lying lessons, which he did not. Still… at least he's loyal.
Sirius rolled his eyes and shot an amused look over at Remus, who was now quietly nestling himself into his covers with an unopened book at the ready on his lap. Remus gave him a small grin back, his amber eyes clearly revealing that he was entertained, and a last shrug that Sirius understood to mean 'there's no stopping them from talking about it.' It was true; James wouldn't shut up about Quidditch on a good day. Ever since try-outs had been posted in early October, James had made it his mission to be allowed to try-out for the Gryffindor team.
Remus opened his book and took his time turning to the page he'd left off on. Sirius watched him idly for a few moments. He reminds me so much of Reg sometimes… especially when he reads. A sudden jolt of recollection hit him. Reg!
He'd started a letter to his brother weeks ago, but he hadn't ever seemed to have any time to finish it – between homework, researching the whole blood-status debate, and exploring the castle with his dorm-mates – the world outside of Hogwarts castle seemed a lifetime away.
Sirius drew his bed curtains closed around himself. He was grateful that the others were all too absorbed with their own activities to notice and question it. He didn't prefer to write to Regulus, or to anyone really, in front of other people. Family matters were to be kept entirely private, and that was perfectly normal; at least that was what he told himself.
Sirius leaned over to his bedside table and opened the top drawer. He pulled out the half-written letter, ink, and a quill. He'd started the letter during his first week of school, and added to it now and then ever since; thus, his opinions and thoughts changed drastically throughout it. He figured that he probably should have started the letter over, but he didn't have the time – or the care really – to do so. Besides, Regulus would understand.
It'd been over a week since he'd worked on it, so he scanned it over from the beginning.
Hey Reg,
I miss you. Hogwarts is incredible. It's so so so much bigger than we thought it was. I can't wait until you're here too.
I've been sorted into Gryffindor. Mother and Father aren't happy. I didn't do it on purpose exactly. I just told the hat to put me where I'd fit best, and that's what it did.
I've got three dorm-mates: James, Remus, and Peter. They're alright I guess. James is a Potter, so he's decent enough. He's funny, but I get what everyone says about them being blood-traitors. Remus doesn't talk – at all. Okay, he talks a little, but you can barely hear him, so it's the same thing as not talking. Peter is sort of odd and boring. I wish you were here with me.
Gryffindor isn't under the lake like Slytherin. It's in a tower. It's actually rather nice.
That was where he'd stopped after the first attempt at a letter to his brother. Sirius gave a sigh, reading over the next portion – angry words, which he'd written several weeks into school.
You have no right to be angry with me, you know. I got Mother's letter saying that you're angry and disappointed with me, but you've no right to be. I didn't ask the hat to put me in this stupid house!
It'd been weeks later when Sirius had picked up the letter again, finally cooled off enough to write to Regulus. He wanted him to understand. More than even that, he had just missed him, and he had been worried about Regulus being at home alone with their parents for so long.
I should be very angry at you for not writing to me and for being upset with me. I am, I suppose. But, I also miss you. How are you? Are things alright with Mother and Father? Are you staying out of trouble? Even if you're mad at me, please write me back to let me know that you're okay.
James is a horrible dorm-mate. I can't stand him sometimes and then I just miss you and wish you were here. James keeps going on about how I need to clean up the room and a bunch of other nonsense. Meanwhile, he keeps his toothbrush out on the sink ledge … yet I'm the disgusting one?
Anyway, we found this strange mirror the other day. That's where my dorm-mates are now, though they should be back soon. When I looked in it, I saw our family. You, Mum, Father, and me. I don't know what kind of a mirror can do that. Maybe Father knows? I'd write to ask, but the last letter I sent him with questions just seemed to make him angry.
I have so many questions now about what makes our family special compared to others. There are loads of half-bloods and muggleborns here, and they seem perfectly normal and intelligent.
There'd been an interruption then – per usual – as his three dorm-mates had returned to the room. Sirius had quickly shoved the letter into his bedside table drawer. He didn't like writing such personal things in front of them.
That was as far as the letter had progressed thus far. He dipped his long-feathered quill into the precariously balanced ink bottle and then pressed it to the parchment.
Reg he began below the last line. How are you doing? I miss you a lot. I'm enjoying my time at school, but I'm glad I'll get to see you over winter break. I can't wait until you're here too and then I don't have to worry about you being at home. Hope you're okay.
"Sirius?" James called from outside the bed curtains. "Why'd you close the curtains? Are you alright?" Sirius rolled his eyes in annoyance, but he also grinned inwardly at his friend's concern.
"I'm fine, James" Sirius called back. "Just heard enough about your star chasing abilities for one evening.
There was a brief pause, and then:
"Alright" James sighed. "You lot want to take the cloak out and go exploring?"
"Yeah!" Peter exclaimed quickly. It was followed by Remus' quiet assent.
"Sure" Sirius replied. He was happy to go exploring again. They found new rooms every time, and he was certain that they knew more of the school than even the fourth years. He looked back to the letter. I really should get to finishing this and sending it off. He wasn't in a massive rush, since Regulus hadn't bothered to write to him at all. Yet, he still enjoyed writing the letter to Regulus, even if he hadn't sent the letter and received a response. He knew Regulus well enough to know what he would say to most of what Sirius had written, and so it eased some of how much he missed him just to write the letter itself.
I take back what I said about James being a horrible dorm-mate, by the way. I thought you should know. He's actually pretty incredible and he's a good friend now. Remus is a pretty good friend now as well; he talks more, and he's really smart. He kind of reminds me of you. He reads a lot and he's very thoughtful. I like Peter more now too, though he still can get on my nerves when he dotes all over James too much.
"Sirius!" James called again, and Sirius could tell from his tone that he wasn't going to wait much longer.
The first Quidditch match of the year is coming up soon, and I can't wait to see it.
"We're going to leave without you, if you don't hurry up" James called as he opened the door to their dormitory. Sirius hastily folded up the letter, shoved it under the mattress of the bed, and then yanked open the bed curtains.
"I'm coming, I'm coming."
(James Potter)
"For the hundredth time, no" Professor McGonagall said, sounding both firm and frustrated.
James had been so sure that he'd be able to wear her down to letting him play on the house team a year early – or at least letting him try out for the team – if he'd kept pestering her. He was used to getting his way if he asked for something enough times.
"But, please, Professor!" James said, hurrying after her down the corridor. "If you could just watch me fly – "
"I have already told you, Potter. First years are not allowed to play for the house teams. No exceptions."
"Yes, I know that, Professor. But if you would just watch me fly I'm sure you'd agree that – "
"Mr. Potter, I am intricately aware of the training you have had already, since you posted a list of your experience on my office door two weeks ago." Yeah. Really thought that one would have worked. I must have loads more flying experience than these other people. "Despite your credentials, those are the school rules."
"But you're deputy headmistress! That's a powerful position, Prof- Headmistress." He gave her one of his most winning smiles…the one his parents could never say 'no' to.
"Gryffindor house will be lucky to have you on the team next year, Potter …permitting that you excel in the try-outs."
Time for a change of approach.
"Did you know that no one younger than twelve has made it onto a Quidditch team in nearly a century? Don't you think it's time that we change that antiquated statistic? You and me, Professor! McGonagall and Potter, changing the lives of eleven-year-old Quidditch players around the world!" She shot him a mildly amused look. "…Or at least at Hogwarts" he pressed.
"Believe it or not, Mr. Potter, there are more important responsibilities that I have to this school and its students than allowing first years to try out for their house teams."
"But you're my head of house" James moaned. "Aren't you supposed to be looking out for your students' career interests? Wouldn't that be one of those more important responsibilities? I want to be a professional Quidditch player. Just think of how you'd be helping my future career prospects if you –"
"Mr. Potter" she interrupted firmly and stopped walking. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but this is enough. Surely you have better things to be doing with your time than asking me the same question you've been requesting all year. The answer is no. I'm sorry Potter; that is my final word."
James gaped at her as she walked briskly away. She said no. She actually still said no. Those were some of the best arguments. Doesn't she care if Gryffindor gets the cup at all?
James slowly made his way back to the Great Hall, where his dorm-mates, along with Frank, were eating lunch. He sauntered along the long Gryffindor table, and as he approached them, they each were giving him a questioning look. He wasn't in the mood to discuss it – for once. He was done. She isn't going to change her mind before the first match on Saturday. He shook his head once at them, and they gave him looks of sympathy. Even Frank, who had told him repeatedly that he wasn't going to be allowed on the team as a first-year, still was kind enough to restrain any well-warranted 'I-told-you-so' remarks. James plopped down between Peter and Frank, across from Sirius and Remus.
"What'd your parents say, James?" Peter asked in a last ditch effort to cheer him up. "Are they going to write to her?"
Ugh. No. He gave a heavy sigh as Frank asked:
"You wrote to your parents to ask them to ask McGonagall?" He sounded both shocked and – to James' gloom – disappointed. "James…" Frank trailed off in that way he did when he was unhappy; it made him sound like his father.
"Yes, Frank" James grumbled. "I did. I shouldn't have, but I did."
"What did they say?" Peter prodded again.
"They probably said no way" Frank told him as he reached across James to scoop another spoonful of mashed potatoes onto his plate.
"Yeah" James mumbled. "My Mum was actually pretty mad that I asked. She said this morning in her letter that I shouldn't be trying to break the rules, and something about acting spoiled." He gave a shrug. "Whatever… I give up."
"Next year" Peter assured him. "Next year, you'll make them wish they'd have listened to you and let you on."
James grinned at the thought. That is absolutely true.
"Thanks, Peter."
They ate a while longer, talking about classes, homework, and the upcoming match. Sirius caught James' eye; he was staring at him with a very confused look on his face, and as soon as James noticed that he was staring, he looked pointedly away. James made a mental note to ask him about it later.
'Later' arrived in about ten minutes as they got up to return to the Gryffindor common room. They were going to start a massive game of snap with whoever was around and willing to play. The five of them made their way up to the tower and James hung back a moment to fall in line with Sirius, who had taken his time selecting which items of food he wanted to take back with him while the rest of them had been walking towards the door.
"Hey, mate" James said, cheerful once more. James was never someone who remained sullen for long.
"'Lo" Sirius mumbled through a bite of pink-frosted doughnut. The pair moseyed towards the door to the Entrance Hall. "You should get one of these" Sirius said after he finished chewing.
"I'm not going back for a doughnut" James laughed.
"A whole ten steps" Sirius teased.
"You were staring at me earlier, yeah? How come?" James asked bluntly. Sirius looked surprised, but not alarmed, by the question. He answered casually.
"I just was trying to figure out why you lied."
"What?" That had not been at all what James had been expecting to hear. I didn't lie. Lie about what, anyway?
"About your mother being angry. Why'd you say she was angry when she's not?"
"What d'you mean?" James asked in bewilderment. "She's angry. I haven't lied about anything, you nutter."
Sirius raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him.
"She sent you cookies this morning with your letter" Sirius remarked, as if this somehow explained everything.
"So?"
"So… she sent you cookies!" Sirius exclaimed, sounding exasperated at the mere effort of explaining his thoughts.
James just gawked at him in confusion. What does sending me cookies have to do with anything? Sirius laughed at him.
"Why're you laughing?" James asked, a smirk forming on his face. "You're a real nutter, Black. Just 'cause she's mad doesn't mean she isn't still going to send me cookies. It's Thursday. She always sends cookies on Thursdays. …Well, except for that one time when she sent fudge instead, but… Thursday is for cookies."
It was Sirius' turn to stare at him in bewilderment.
"Thursday is for cookies" Sirius repeated after a long pause. Sirius broke into a barking laugh. "You're so spoilt."
James feigned an offended frown.
"I always share" he protested.
"You do" Sirius conceded. "Speaking of which, you should probably start sharing less with Peter… you aren't doing him any favors."
You prat.
"Says the bloke eating his third doughnut of the day" James shot back. He didn't like anyone making fun of his friends – even his other friends. Sirius smirked back mischievously.
"Fifth" he corrected unapologetically.
(Remus Lupin)
The second Sunday of October began even earlier than usual in regard to waking up; yet, the boisterous elated awakening was entirely expected. Remus awoke with a jolt to the sound of James Potter's voice nearly shouting with excited joy. True, James usually took it upon himself to wake them and make sure that they were all "taking full advantage of another beautiful day", but this rousing was even more abrupt than usual.
"Today's the day!" James was yelling. "It's finally here!" Remus pulled open his bed-curtains to reveal the rest of the room. James was still sitting in bed, but he looked wide awake. He beamed across the room at Remus. Remus returned the smile, though he was quite positive that James had woken them long before they needed to be awake for the first Quidditch match of the year: Gryffindor versus Slytherin.
"We should dress in all Gryffindor colors" Peter's small sleepy voice said from the bed to James' left as he drew his bed-curtains open as well. The small blonde boy was grinning. "Don't you think, James?"
"Absolutely! I wouldn't dream of wearing anything else, mate. Oi, Legend! Join the living!" Remus looked to the bed on his right and saw that the curtains were being pulled open. A mess of long black hair emerged; Sirius was rubbing his eyes and yawning. He grinned at Remus and then at James.
"I won't even look at the time, because I know that you've woken us all long before we actually needed to be up" he said, but his voice was light and happy. He's excited for the match too.
"This is the best day that we're going to have yet! I just know it!" James shouted. "Gryffindor is going to beat that talentless Slytherin team into the mud. I can't wait!"
"Anyone mind if I take the first shower?" Peter asked considerately.
"Not at all" Sirius mumbled through another yawn. "I'm afraid to ask, but how long do I have to wait 'til breakfast?"
"'Bout two hours, mate" James said gleefully. "Plenty of time for us to cast our predictions on how the game's going to go."
"Alright. And also to make sure that Remus understands all the rules."
"Didn't you read the rule guide I gave you, Remus?"
Yes, James, but it wasn't exactly straight-forward. What good is a coded rule guide if I can't understand the terminology?
"I did."
"So you understand the rules?" James asked quickly, making a point to look at Sirius with an 'I told you I had it covered' expression.
I don't want him to think I'm an idiot.
"I think so." Lies. I've got no clue. Sirius seemed to see through him, and he gave a laugh.
"So that's a 'no'" Sirius chuckled. "Don't worry, Remus, I'll explain them in English for you."
"What do you mean by that? I've always found that guide to be really helpful" James scowled.
"It's only helpful for people who already know everything about Quidditch, you berk." Sirius rolled his eyes. Then he turned to Remus and added "Don't be hesitant to tell him how it is. Potter needs a good dose of reality every once and a while. It's good for him."
Embarrassed, Remus looked down, but he couldn't help but grin. Thanks, Sirius. James chucked a pillow across the room in Sirius' direction, but it fell short of making it the distance to the foot of his bed.
"Ha! Chaser my arse, Potter. No keeper is going to let you get closer than this to the rings."
"Yeah, well Quaffles are a bit more aerodynamic than pillows aren't they? You're supposed to be some kind of expert now, aren't you?"
Ah, yes. The airplanes that Sirius hasn't shut up about all week.
"As a matter of fact I am, and that reminds me of what I've been meaning to tell you. There are these things called helicopters and –"
James cut him off with a loud groan and fell back dramatically onto his back.
"No! I take it back! You're not the expert. Quidditch talk please."
"We will, but could I just tell you about –?"
"Not today, Sirius!" James said sharply.
"Just give me three minutes."
"No."
"Two minutes. They're awesome; you'll like hearing about them."
"For Merlin's sake, I said not today! Please, I've been waiting for this day all year and now it's finally here and dammit we are going to enjoy it!" But Remus watched as Sirius' face fell and he nodded agreeably, and then James gave huge sigh and said, "Fine, three minutes about the helsicops. But then it's back to Quidditch."
(Sirius Black)
It was just getting chilly enough to wear scarves and wool cloaks. Sirius was proudly wearing the Gryffindor scarf that Andromeda had given him for his birthday. He also borrowed one of James' Gryffindor-red t-shirts.
"You'll be cold" James had warned him.
"Thanks for the warning, Mum" he'd replied sarcastically.
He was cold, and they'd not even made it to their seats yet. He wasn't going to admit it to James, however. The walk down to the pitch had taken nearly ten minutes, and now they were in line to go up into one of the stands. The entire school had come out to watch the match since it was the first game of the season.
Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Can't get better than that.
He wanted more than anything for Gryffindor to win. He wondered if he should interrupt James and rescue Remus from having to listen to him rattling of his Quidditch predictions for the game. As if Remus knows what a Vronsky faint is…
He was weighing the prospect of aiding Remus against upsetting James – especially after James had let him tell him about the helicopters – by telling him to stop talking about his predictions, when a familiar voice sounded behind him.
"Sirius" it said firmly and dripping with both condescension and accusation.
All three of them had heard, and so all three of them looked over at Rabastan Lestrange. Rabastan, a pale brunette with striking large blue eyes, was in his second year. He had been there the other night when they'd all attacked him in the common room. He was his second cousin. Sirius had never been particularly fond of any of his relatives, but Regulus had always seemed to like Rabastan. As a result, Sirius had tried to like Rabastan; but, he concluded that he did not… could not. All the Lestrange's were just very off.
"Rabastan" Sirius said, succeeding in sounding equally as disdainful. His cousin held up a piece of parchment with writing on it that he couldn't make out, since his cousin was a good four feet away from him.
"See this? It's called a letter" Rabastan snarled sarcastically. "You know what you're supposed to do when you get one of these, right? You were raised to be civilized even if you did end up in a house living with mudbloods?"
"You're the one who's uncivilized, using a world like that!" James shouted, charging forward to stand beside Sirius. James had his wand out.
Merlin, he really hates that word. It's just a word, James. Of course, Rabastan ignored James.
"I reply to my letters" Rabastan went on. "Unlike you, who apparently don't even have the decency to give a single bloody reply even though we're all the way into fucking October."
What's he talking about? He can't be seriously talking about the fact that I didn't write back to my parents. What'd Mum do, write to all of them to tell them to lecture me on not replying?
Rabastan looked furious. Arrogant stubbornness kicking in, Sirius decided it would be best to assume that he knew exactly what Rabastan was talking about. It had to be about his parents' letters anyway; he hadn't received any others.
"I'm not going to reply. Feel free to pass that along" Sirius said, sounding as if the entire conversation was beneath him. Yet, Sirius was doing his best to mask his growing fury and embarrassment. Rabastan gawked for a second and then his face turned to one of disgust.
"You're a revolting person" Rabastan said with abhorrence, shaking his head slowly at him in disbelief.
I'm not the one who participated in an attack of eight against one. Why the hell does he even care?
"Yeah, well, if not writing back to people I don't like makes me a revolting person, I don't care" Sirius spat back angrily.
"People you don't like?" Rabastan asked in shock. "You traitorous lying prat! You don't care about anyone but yourself! I wish we didn't let you go! I wish we'd finished you off like you deserve."
But that was too much. Sirius was past the point of being furious. Who did Rabastan think he was, coming up to him and scolding him for not writing letters back to his parents? It was bad enough he brought attention back to the fact that his family was in Slytherin to his friends, but to attempt to lecture him like this? He had no right. And to say that he wished they'd finished him off! Sirius wanted revenge on his cousins that had tricked him and attacked him, Rabastan very much included.
Sirius wasn't even thinking; he was only acting. He charged toward his cousin and tackled him to the ground upon impact. Rabastan was caught completely off guard. Sirius was on top of him, throwing punch after punch at his face. Rabastan was struggling to shove Sirius off and get free, but Sirius wasn't budging. Rabastan was a year older than him, but he wasn't really any bigger or stronger than he was.
Still, Rabastan managed to get a good swing in at Sirius' face, and Sirius toppled off of him. Rabastan was quick to get on top of him, throwing punches just as fiercely as Sirius had been. It was only a few seconds before the two of them were rolling, fighting for the upper hand, yelling, and throwing punches anywhere they could as they went.
"Sirius stop!" he could hear James' voice, but it seemed so far away.
"You filthy traitor!" Rabastan was yelling at him as they wrestled fiercely. Then, he felt two hands pulling him away from Rabastan. He fought against their pull, but Rabastan was being pulled away too. "No!" Rabastan hollered. "Let me fight him! I want that selfish arse to pay for what he's doing!"
"Rabastan stop it!" Sirius recognized that fierce commanding voice as well; he calmed down enough to see that it was Rodolphus who had torn Rabastan, his younger brother, away from the fight. Sirius turned around to see that it was James who had pulled him away. James looked uncharacteristically concerned; he still had a firm grip on both of Sirius' shoulders.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Shit. Professor McGonagall was hurrying over to them now, her long green robes billowing out behind her. She reached the small group of them in a moment's time. Sirius had never seen her looking so livid. Her mouth had gone so thin that it was barely more than a single line across her face. "Explain yourselves immediately."
For a minute they all stared at her saying nothing. Sirius was radiating heat and anger. Finally, he spoke, his tone aloof.
"Bit of a family quarrel, Professor."
"A fam-?" she began to ask, and then made the connection. She looked from the Lestrange brothers to Sirius and James. It was very clear that only two of the four had been fighting. Their clothes and hair were disheveled and dirty, and they were both sporting visible bruises and scrapes. "There is no excuse for brawling like savages. I repeat: no excuse. Mr. Black, Mr. Lestrange, you will both receive detention with me for the next week. Beginning tonight at eight o'clock."
"I can't, Professor" Sirius interrupted. Then, catching himself, he shot her an apologetic look.
"Excuse me, Black?" she asked sternly.
He wished he didn't have to say this in front of the Lestrange's. Ugh. He swallowed his embarrassment and tried to sound apologetic but unashamed.
"I already have detention tonight with Professor Flitwick. …And tomorrow night with Madam Walters." He shot a sidelong glance at James for moral support. "…And the next night with Professor Sprout."
McGonagall didn't even look surprised.
"Fine, Mr. Black, then you will serve your detentions with me in the morning before classes so that they do not interfere with your other detentions."
Ughhh.
She drew her attention back to include Rabastan as well as Sirius.
"I will also be writing to each of your families this evening." She shot a lingering stare down at Sirius. "Now off with all of you."
Suddenly, gravity felt too heavy to stand. No. They'll be furious. They'll kill me.
Beside him, Rabastan had gone equally white at the prospect of his father finding out that he'd gotten into a fistfight at school. He looked up at Rodolphus, but his brother only gave him an unsympathetic 'you-got-yourself-into-it' look and shook his head at him.
Sirius found his words at last. James was talking to him, but he didn't register what he was saying. Professor McGonagall was a good fifteen feet away from them now, but he ran after her.
"Professor!" He ran past her and stopped in front of her, forcing her to stop on her way back to the stands. She looked entirely unamused. He was desperate. She can't write to them; she has to listen. "Please, Professor" he said frantically. "You can't write to my parents. I mean please don't write to my parents."
"Mr. Black" she said, relaxing ever so slightly now that she understood why he had charged after her. "First off, fighting at school warrants a letter home regardless of who the student may be. That being said, you in particular seem to have a knack for getting into compromising situations. You have served countless detentions, and yet the message does not seem to get through. I will be writing to your parents."
Sirius stood frozen before her for so long that she continued walking. Only when she was completely away from him did he recover slightly from the realization of what he knew his parents' reaction would be if she wrote to them about this. He took a few long strides to catch up to her.
"Professor!" he pleaded urgently. She fixed him with a stern look. "Isn't there something else you could do? I get what you're saying about the detentions, but maybe there's something else you could do besides write to my parents." His mind was racing trying to think of examples. "I could miss dinners…or-or lunches…or" he grimaced "Quidditch matches. Just please don't write to them."
He thought he could see a hint of appreciation for his effort in her eyes; yet, she didn't budge.
"As I said before, Mr. Black: any student found fighting at school receives a letter home. I cannot bend the rules for one student. Perhaps next time you will consider the potential repercussions of your actions beforehand."
He gave her a small nod. He was petrified. They were going to be furious. Beyond furious. Not only had he behaved poorly by getting into a fight – with a relative no less – but he had fought in a muggle fashion rather than with a wand. He couldn't imagine what his mother and father would say when they found out. First Gryffindor and now this.
Professor McGonagall seemed to soften a little at his reaction.
"You are free to write them a letter explaining your side of what happened you know."
It won't matter. They'll just be even more pissed that I tried to defend my actions. She gave him a last look and walked away, leaving him standing there. He loathed Rabastan Lestrange - absolutely despised him. The wind whipped around him and he shivered. Stupid t-shirt, he thought angrily. He was only standing alone for a matter of seconds, because his three friends bounded up to him.
James reached him first. Great. Now he's going to tell me off for fighting. James could get rather angry quickly too, but he wasn't usually violent – at least not to the extent of throwing punches. Sirius shot him a glare in warning; he was not in the mood to be told off. Yet, to Sirius' relief, James was wearing a rather calm expression.
"We'll get back at him" James assured him; he said it so matter-of-fact that Sirius let out a small grateful laugh. He nodded at his three friends.
"Let's go get seats" Sirius muttered. He needed a distraction from this mess, and the match was sure to provide it. They made their way back over to the staircases.
Their seats weren't great, seeing as they were delayed by the incident with Rabastan. Thus, they spent most of the match standing on top of their bench in order to see over the heads of everyone in front of them. James commentated rather obnoxiously throughout the entire game, but none of them told him to keep his mouth shut. Peter spent most of the match answering Remus' questions for a change.
When two hours had passed without either team's seeker catching the snitch, and Sirius felt like his arms were going to freeze and fall off, James took off his jacket and handed it to him with a disapproving grin.
"You can borrow it for a while" James told him in response to the inquisitive look Sirius gave him. "I told you you'd be cold" James added as Sirius gratefully slipped on the warm jacket.
(Sirius Black)
The next morning, Sirius was practically falling asleep over his breakfast. He'd spent nearly the entire night lying awake in his four-poster bed, anxiously playing-out his parents' predicted reaction to the letter home in his head. He knew they'd be furious.
Even Gryffindor's miraculous win – after nearly four hours – when Sarah Wood caught the snitch right out from under Dolohov's nose, wasn't enough to dispense with his unease.
When the post arrived that morning, he did wake up enough to check the paper and make sure that news of his and Rabastan's little fight didn't somehow hit the press. He'd made the mistake of mentioning this worry to James the night before, but James had only laughed and teased that no one in their right mind would care to read about such rubbish, and that he should get over himself. Still, he had spent a good portion of the night agonizing over the imagined headline: Black Heir Caught Brawling like a muggle. Fortunately, there was nothing mentioning it in the paper; the Lestrange's didn't want that reputation either, and thus he was blessedly saved.
"James Potter to Sirius Black! I'm right, yeah?" James' wide awake tone broke through his thoughts. Sirius looked up at him from the paper, handing it back over to Carina, who he'd borrowed it from without asking.
"What?" Sirius asked groggily, right before yawning. James gave a chuckle.
"Never-mind, mate. You obviously weren't listening. …But, for future reference, when I ask you if I'm right, the answer is always 'yes'" James chuckled.
Sirius gave an intentionally dramatic sigh and turned to Remus.
"Was he talking about Quidditch?" Right now, even speaking the word Quidditch made his stomach churn uneasily. He knew he was going to be in so much trouble for the fight at the match yesterday. Remus nodded, shyly – never wanting to get in the middle of anything. "How'd I ever guess?" he added with a smirk at James, who rolled his eyes and continued his conversation with Peter and Frank.
"Sirius?" Remus asked softly, and the gentleness of his tone just made Sirius want to curl up and go back to bed. Remus often reminded him of Regulus when he was like that: caring, observant, and kind.
Merlin, what must Regulus be thinking of me after this? He's always liked Rabastan too. Reg… I miss him. He really wished he had Regulus with him at school. Regulus always had a way of making him feel better, even if it was only by allowing him to focus on Regulus' well-being more than on his own. Reg hasn't even written to me all term… He's upset I'm in Gryffindor… that I embarrassed the family… that we won't be in the same house…
"Sirius" Remus asked again, looking worried. Sirius snapped back from his thoughts about his brother to the present situation. The noise of the Great Hall, with its many chattering students and its clattering of dishware, filtered back into his conscious awareness. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine" Sirius said back quietly. He didn't need anyone else catching on to how worried he was over this. The fact that Carina had asked him what was wrong the second she'd seen him didn't count, he told himself; she knows more than other people. "Thanks."
"You look like you might have been upset" Remus tried cautiously. Sirius had a quick temper - not usually with Remus, but he was still evidently proceeding gingerly. Sirius gave a small shrug.
"McGonagall wrote to my parents yesterday. I'm probably gonna get a howler." Remus' eyes went wide with sympathy.
"Maybe you should go to the dormitory. That way it'll be delivered there and no one else will hear it."
"That's a fair point, mate" Sirius mused. "…Yeah. I think I will." He looked around to grab a few croissants for the walk back up to Gryffindor Tower. Just as he was about to leave, he felt a presence behind him.
"Mr. Black" came the now familiar stern voice of Professor McGonagall. He turned to look at her, unable to hide how nervous he was. He was also painfully aware that many of the students around him had stopped talking to listen in. "If you would come with me please."
His stomach was doing flips. He thought he might get sick right on the spot. Go with her where? He couldn't help but think that this was it; he had finally been misbehaved enough to warrant a real punishment. His mind briefly raced as he tried to think if there was anyone here who would be able to intervene and stick up for him; besides his three dorm-mates, who had little influence over such matters, he could think of no one. Don't be stupid. No one's going to intervene.
He wasn't really aware of getting up and following her out of the Great Hall. It was as if he blacked out the memory as he walked. He was moving mechanically, following her to who knew where. It wasn't that he was so afraid of hexes or jinxes, only that this was someone new. He knew how his mother disciplined; he knew what hexes she'd use, he knew about how many until she'd stop, he knew how frequently they'd be sent at him. With McGonagall, he knew none of this. Merlin, and then I have to have detention with her alone all week. It was mortifying.
"We are going to the headmaster's office" she informed him. Bloody hell, is he going to hex me too? "I wrote to your parents yesterday, as I told you that I would. Your mother has flooed to the headmaster's office, and wishes to speak with the three of us there."
Sirius stopped in his tracks; he couldn't move. This was worse – so much worse – than what he'd expected. He couldn't even fathom his mother being angry enough to come to the school and involve the headmaster and headmistress. Pure terror coursed through him. He had half a mind to run. It was a huge castle, the chances that they'd find him were pretty slim.
"Come along, Mr. Black" McGonagall instructed when she noticed that she had walked a good twenty feet without him.
He took a shuddering breath and followed her obediently. What choice did he have? Even if he fled, he'd have to see his mother eventually, and then it would be worse. They walked another few minutes before coming upon a statue of a very tall stone gargoyle.
"Ice Mice" Professor McGonagall said promptly, and to Sirius' surprise, the gargoyle began to rotate. Sirius stood beside Professor McGonagall as the staircase leading up to what must be Dumbledore's office spiraled down around a statue in front of them. McGonagall stepped onto the first stair and took a few steps up. Sirius' feet were planted firmly on the ground. He wanted to postpone the meeting with his mother for as long as possible.
How much does Mum know? Did they tell her about all my detentions? Merlin… I hope she doesn't yell in front of them.
There could be nothing more mortifying than having her scream her lecture – amongst a multitude of insults – at him in front of Dumbledore and McGonagall. It was also the first time she was seeing him since his sorting into Gryffindor; and he had her daily letters to remind him that she had still not forgiven him for that. Not to mention the fact that he had replied to hardly any of her letters – a rudeness she was not likely to let go.
"Come along, Mr. Black" Professor McGonagall said sternly. Her voice and expression were stern, but Sirius couldn't blame her.
I've caused nothing but trouble since I got here. She's probably relieved my parents are stepping in to dole out some discipline. His stomach lurched again.
"Now" Professor McGonagall said louder, and Sirius stepped forward onto the bottom step. At once, the staircase began to spiral upwards. Sirius would have found this little convenience quite neat if he hadn't been dreading what he would meet at the top of the stairs so fully.
When they reached the top, the staircase halted, and the pair were faced with a large door. Professor McGonagall knocked twice.
"Come in, Minerva" came the light old voice of the headmaster. Sirius wasn't too pleased to be called to the headmaster's office only a few months into school, but given the fact that his mother was awaiting his arrival in the office as well, Sirius' guilt for upsetting Dumbledore was eclipsed.
McGonagall didn't hesitate to open the door. Sirius would have appreciated it if she had given him a good long count of ten – or ten-thousand – to prepare himself. Sirius did at least have time to force his expression to hide all traces of emotion. He looked utterly stoic, and he was grateful for the well-practiced ability.
The office was, for lack of a better word, spectacular. There were gadgets and gismos everywhere; though, he didn't have time to look around. His eyes were immediately drawn to the tall, thin, elegantly dressed woman with dark brown hair pinned up into a fancy bun. His mother was seated in an arm chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. Her back was to the door – to Sirius – and she did not turn to look at him and McGonagall as they entered. Professor Dumbledore was seated behind his desk. Sirius tried to quickly gauge the headmaster's level of anger. To his surprise, Dumbledore seemed quite peaceful and content.
Two more squashy armchairs appeared in front of Dumbledore's large wooden desk to the right of his mother.
"Hello, Professor McGonagall. Hello Sirius." Sirius was shocked to see that Dumbledore gave him a warm amused little smile as he greeted him. Sirius didn't dare smile back. He gave a small nod at Dumbledore. "Have a seat, if you please."
Sirius' chest constricted even tighter as Professor McGonagall took the seat at the far right, leaving the middle chair for him. Sirius sat down, not daring to even give his mother, who was now a mere foot beside him on his left, a rapid glance. He stared straight at the headmaster.
"Mrs. Black," Dumbledore said courteously, "this is Professor Minerva McGonagall. She is Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, and she is Sirius' head of house here at Hogwarts. Minerva, this is our welcome guest, Walburga Black."
Sirius inhaled swiftly as his mother turned her young porcelain-like face to greet Professor McGonagall, looking straight past her son. She forced a false smile.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Professor McGonagall, despite the unfortunate circumstances unto which our meeting has arisen."
"I am glad to meet you as well, Mrs. Black. I am always happy to meet my students' parents."
"Lovely" said Professor Dumbledore calmly. "Now then, would anyone like a lemon drop?" All three politely declined. Professor Dumbledore feigned a disappointed look. "I had hoped that at least one of you would fancy a lemon drop. For you see, I can hardly enjoy one at the present moment without now appearing rude…though I would very much like to indulge in the small treat. Sirius, would you be so kind?"
Sirius had thought that the look Dumbledore had given him when he'd lied and said politely that he didn't want one was oddly knowing. Now, here was Dumbledore plainly asking him to eat the candy for his sake so that it would be rude for Sirius to refuse. How did he know I wanted one?
Not seeing any other option, Sirius nodded. Dumbledore handed him the small light-yellow candy and then popped one into his own mouth. Both women seemed slightly perturbed by the headmaster's lack of formality. Sirius however, popped the candy into his mouth.
"To business then, shall we?" asked Dumbledore rather brightly. "As I understand it, Sirius found himself in a bit of a scuffle yesterday before the Quidditch match. He has been given a week's worth of detention…" Sirius could swear that the headmaster's eyes held humor in their twinkle – he thinks it's funny that I get so many detentions? "…What can we do for you, Mrs. Black?" he added respectfully.
To his left, his straight-backed mother, pursed her red lips.
"Firstly, I would like to know why my son was afforded the opportunity to engage in such behavior. Attending Quidditch matches is a privilege, is it not? From what I've been informed from my dear nieces, Sirius' behavior over the past month and a half does not in any way warrant such a privilege. If his prior actions were not forewarning enough to his inability to follow set rules, then surely this instance has enlightened you as to the nature of his character."
Sirius could feel himself shrinking. He should have known she would do this. She would speak ill of him to anyone who would listen. She would insist upon his abhorrent deceitful nature until no one in their right mind would ever even give him the chance to show that he might be anything more than what she claimed him to be. He stared down at his hands in his lap. He wished the lemon drop had lasted longer.
"As such," his mother continued coolly, "I trust that at least now the proper restrictions will be implemented as a result of his revolting conduct. I want to know what each detention consists of, as well as what further disciplinary actions you plan to implement as a result of this latest disgusting display of barbarity. Lastly, after we have discussed the aforementioned matters, I would like a private word with my son."
As usual when anyone in his family spoke to a rather new acquaintance – himself included – his mother spoke with a commanding manner of absolute confidence and importance. Most people tended to need a few seconds to recover after one of his parents spoke to them in such a way, but Dumbledore did not. He merely gave Walburga Black a pensive look, and folded his hands in front of him atop his desk. Sirius did not look up.
"Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Black" Dumbledore said respectfully. "I am happy to discuss each of these important matters with you. I would like to reply to your first inquiry by saying that Hogwarts professors do not prohibit students from attending Quidditch matches; instead, professors prefer to carry out disciplinary actions through detentions. Detentions not only serve as a learning experience for the student, but also serve in assisting the professors and the school in some way. Detentions vary based on the student's offense and the professor's need. We find that doing tasks to correct behavior are more conducive to the further prevention of negative behavior than denying a student from attending a Quidditch match."
Dumbledore then went on to describe a few of the more common detention assignments. Sirius was grateful that Dumbledore had the sense to leave out any of the detentions that involved cleaning or anything else that his mother would deem menial. The discussion then turned to what further actions would be taken to ensure that Sirius abided by the rules at school. Dumbledore expressed his confidence that any such actions would be unnecessary, and he assured Walburga that if any such occasion were to arise, that she would be notified before any disciplinary action took place. To Sirius' surprise, his mother consented to this arrangement, ominously agreeing that she was certain that Sirius would obey the rules from now on.
The conversation had gone on for nearly twenty minutes. Sirius was very used to his mother's demanding standards and her consistency at never being quite satisfied. Yet, it seemed that eventually his mother must have wanted to lecture Sirius more than she wanted more in-depth answers from Dumbledore and McGonagall, because she tactfully communicated that she was now ready to have a word with her son.
"Of course" Dumbledore said graciously, "you may use my office in private. Professor McGonagall and I will step outside."
Sirius sat straight-backed in his chair waiting for what was surely to come. The door to the office was shut. To his left, his mother rose to her feet and stood in front of him in his chair. It was the first time she'd looked at him since he'd arrived at the office. She hadn't seen him since his father had taken him to the train nearly two months prior.
"Look at me" she said, her words icy. She had not missed him; he knew that for certain. He looked up at his mother. She was tall to begin with, but she was towering from this angle as he sat in the chair. "Where do I even begin?" Her voice was still low – perhaps because Dumbledore and McGonagall were somewhere not too far away. "You're nothing but a disappointment. After everything your father and I did to ensure you turned out right, this is how you repay us? By acting like an ungrateful piece of filth? You don't even have the affability to write to your own mother!"
"I did write to you, Mother" Sirius mumbled, and then cringed. Why did I say that?
"How dare you!?" she seethed, her voice still uncharacteristically low. "You wrote a letter of complaint! You wrote a letter that had nothing at all to do with anything I had written to you! You didn't even apologize for the embarrassment and shame that you are putting our family through by not being in Slytherin. How you had the audacity and imbecility to carp over the actions of your cousins as a result of you dishonoring our family, is beyond me. In my opinion, you're lucky you didn't receive far worse from them after the shame you've brought to them. Poor Bella is beside herself. But do you care for the woes you force upon others? Not at all!"
"I'm sorry, Mother."
"Not sorry enough! Look at how you are behaving at school! You'd think you'd want to make up for your miserable sorting, but no! Associating with blood-traitors and mudbloods! And rowing with your own relatives! Why did you engage in a fight with your cousin?"
Eleven years of experience told Sirius that she was not really asking. She did not want to hear his version of yesterday's debacle with Rabastan. She did not care. Still, he had to try.
"Rabastan said he – " he spoke as quickly as he could, but she interjected almost instantly.
"What?!" she yelled. Sirius' whole body shook and he cringed again.
"There's no excuse, Mother" Sirius said softly.
"You're damn right that there's no excuse for that kind of disgusting uncivilized brutish behavior. Fighting your cousin in a mudblooded show of barbarity! There is no excuse at all for such atrocious behavior."
Sirius' eyes clouded over as he resigned himself to suit-up for the long haul. If Dumbledore was really going to permit them to use his office until his mother was satisfied, it would be at least an hour before she was finished with him. He prepared himself to let her words wash over him.
I'm not here. I'm at the Eiffel Tower. The view is great. They'd gone on holiday to Paris many times, and he could picture the view vividly in his mind.
"… Just wait until you hear what you're father has to say about this" her words pierced his thoughts and he shut his eyes.
I can see a muggle tour boat on the Seine River. They look happy. I'm happy. I'm not here.
"Is it not bad enough that you consistently waste my time? Now you've come here and you've decided to waste everyone else's time as well? Detention after detention! Selfish boy! I had hoped that you would have improved upon coming to school. Evidently, I was foolishly mistaken." Her steadily growing voice broke through his strong-willed daze once again. He was breathing heavily.
I'm at the Eiffel Tower. I'm at the Eiffel Tower. I'm not here. I'm at the Eiffel Tower. The scene in his mind was being skewed by an image of his mother's furious glare.
"… The reason you got into a fist-fight is because you are an unintelligent, insolent, talentless little child who is utterly incapable of doing a single thing right. You remain a disobedient, selfish, worthless little brat. It's no wonder you didn't make Slytherin."
The door to the office burst open with a rather loud commotion. Both Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall re-entered the room. Sirius turned to look, and saw that both of them looked upset – angry, surprised, and perhaps sad.
"Forgive the intrusion," Dumbledore said, though his respectful courteous tone was gone; it was replaced with one much more formidable. "I must once again resume full use of my office, Mrs. Black. I do hope you understand."
"Understand?" said Professor McGonagall in an outraged sarcastic tone that Sirius had never heard her use before. "She does not seem to be the understanding type, Albus."
"How dare you" Walburga said loudly to McGonagall, her regality returning now that there were other adults present.
"Minerva" Dumbledore said sternly. "Please escort Sirius to his next lesson and let Professor Sprout know that he has a verifiable excuse for his tardiness on this occasion. I daresay she won't believe it if you do not tell her directly."
Sirius felt the weight of that statement. His word meant nothing to any of the professors. It was worthless.
McGonagall was quickly ushering him out of the office while Dumbledore spoke to his mother. Only when they were down the spiral staircase, down the hall, and had turned the corner did Professor McGonagall reach out and turn him gently around to face her via his left shoulder.
He did his best to look unaffected by the morning's events. He stared at her, waiting for her to speak, and wondering if perhaps she would take this opportunity to yell at him as well. I'm a waste of her time.
"You are a highly intelligent, talented, spirited young man" she said firmly, though her expression was rather softer than usual.
Why are you saying that?
"Despite your knack for trouble, I am proud to have you in my house."
Yeah, right. Sirius could only stare back at her.
"Now then" she said, brushing nonexistent dust off of Sirius' shoulder, "let's be on our way to greenhouse one."