A/N Hello, my lovely readers, I have returned with another update! Thank you for all of your lovely comments on the last chapter. :)
Thanks to all Reviewers!
Dedication: To AliceIsLost, Lioness-of-Tortall-7, Nyxelestia, SWaddict1986, and ariex, for their lovely reviews.
Disclaimer: I possess nothing other than a rather large mountain of homework.
You're always careful about how you act around Mrs. Potter, she's no easily-fooled Gryffindor, you don't mean it is an insult to your house that they're easily fooled; it's a fact of Gryffindor house that they are loyal to a fault. Gryffindor is sort of like Hufflepuff in that way, at least in terms of thinking the best in people for the most part, except that Gryffindors have an official anti-Slytherin policy and Hufflepuffs just like everyone. Mrs. Potter was a Slytherin when she went to Hogwarts, and worse than that she used to be a Black, which means that she has been trained from birth to mask her thoughts, and she, unlike you, is capable of the subtle cunning that all traditional Slytherins seem to have. Like Andromeda she is good at getting you to reveal more than you ever thought possible before you even realize that you never wanted to tell anyone that. This makes her very dangerous. You've never been very good when it comes to subtlety- you've always believed in the direct approach, which suits you well as a Gryffindor, seeing as how subtle and Gryffindor are seldom seen in the same sentence unless the word "not" appears in between them.
Mrs. Potter is here now, you heard her talking quietly to Madame Promfrey a few minutes ago, and then you heard someone sit down in one of the chairs next to your bed. You've been lying here with your eyes closed concentrating on keeping your breathing even for the last several minutes so that you don't have to answer her questions. You know that she at least will not believe your lies, not when you showed up at her doorstop bleeding all over her spotless hardwood floors at two in the morning or whenever it was (it seems like forever ago). And, as a former Black she will likely have experienced the horrors of growing up in the Black house. Granted she was not from the main branch of the family so she probably didn't experience anything quite as horrific as you, being the heir to the main branch. Still, you are pretty sure that she will not believe that you "fell down the stairs." Honestly, falling down the stairs is the oldest lie in the book, but it's always worked for you, and besides that, it doesn't really matter what you say because unless you are willing to take extensive legal action the Ministry would never look twice into your story. The Blacks are a very influential family.
You shift slightly, the movement is mechanical. You've never been one to be still even for a moment and if you don't move at least a little Mrs. Potter will begin to suspect that you are awake. And, you really don't think that you can face her right now. You don't think you could face anyone actually. You feel so weak, so useless; you don't want to face these people and see the sympathy in their eyes. You hate sympathy more than anything else in the world.
You know that eventually you will have to open your eyes and face Mrs. Potter because from the sound of things she isn't planning to go away in the near future. Of course, she will eventually have to leave in order to eat or something. You ponder opening your eyes and talking to her, how bad can it possibly be? She has been outside of the Black family for years now; maybe she will have forgotten how bad things get on the inside. Honestly, you think that you could almost forget how bad things are, because well, they're so terrible that it seems pretty unbelievable that things can be as bad as you remember them, except that every time you go home things are as bad as you remember and worse.
Just as you are considering "waking up," Mrs. Potter speaks. "I know you're awake, Sirius," she says her tone deceptively mild. You sigh and open your eyes looking up to meet another pair of eyes in the familiar shade of gray common to the Black family, her eyes are more of a light greenish-gray than the molten-silver color of your own though.
You fix a smile onto your face, although you fear it is more of grimace and reply: "Hello, Mrs. Potter, did I scare you?"
She doesn't reply right away and instead fixes you with an unblinking gaze.
"I fell down the stairs, you know, I'm not sure if Dumbledore told you, but it was quite the nasty scrape." You're rambling again, and realizing this, you close your mouth with an audible snap.
"Sirius," She begins carefully, her face devoid of emotions that would reveal her thoughts. She's got a perfect Slytherin mask, even after years of living with Gryffindors. You suppose idly that something like that never completely disappears. "We both know you didn't fall down any stairs-" She paused again. "Unless your parents threw you down them, of course." She watches you carefully after she says this, searching your face for a reaction. She's good, but so are you.
"Why on earth would Mother or Father throw me down the stairs?" You ask looking at her with wide, shocked eyes.
"If I didn't know better I would almost believe you." Dorea replied. She looked like she was going to address your "accident" some more when she abruptly switched tacks. "What do you know about my brother?"
"Grandpa Pollux?" You ask as though you know nothing of her other brother, the one the Blacks no longer acknowledge.
"No," She replied calmly. "My brother Marius. We were really close, you know, almost like best friends, of course, when he turned eleven, and no Hogwarts letter came Mother and Father were furious. They sent me to stay with my Uncle Sirius, that would be your Great-Grandpa, for a couple of days after that. And, when I came home Marius was gone, and when I asked about him Mother slapped me across the face and told me that her only son was Pollux, perfect Pollux." Dorea stopped here watching the effect of her words on you. "I never found out what happened to him. Only that he was gone, and that he wasn't my brother anymore."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Potter." You say after a pause lasting for several seconds. You know that it is not enough, but you don't suppose anything could ever be enough to counter such a loss.
"It was a long time ago." She says softly. "But the point is, Sirius, that I know that everything is not as perfect as it appears in the Black family, and don't think for one second that I buy that story about falling down the stairs, if you don't want to file charges against your parents that's fine, although I recommend that you do, but you will talk to someone, a professional that is, I will not stand by and let this destroy you. You matter too much to me for that, Sirius." She stood up then. "James is anxious to see you…think about what I said, Sirius." She leaves then after patting you on the shoulder.
You sit silently for several moments after she is gone. You know that you should talk to someone, but at the same time you can't fathom telling anyone about what goes on in your house. It is the number one rule of being a Black -never tell an outsider what goes on in the Black household. And, yet, it's probably the best option you will get from Mrs. Potter, and you can always sit silently through a couple sessions with the mind healer or utilize your practically perfect mask of smiles and jokes and laughter and convince the healer that you are perfectly fine. And, maybe then everyone will give you some room to breathe.
You wonder if you should try to report your parents, as Mrs. Potter and Dumbledore seem to think. You don't think that it could possibly work, and you are terrified that if you take legal action your parents will force you to come back home. You don't know what to do. You wish you weren't a Black more at this moment than any other in your life. You wonder how Mrs. Potter managed to survive your family with relatively little harm. You push these thoughts aside as you hear voices in the corridor again. It's show time, you think, as you force another smile across your countenance.
A/N Review, please, tell me who you would like to see in the next chapter.