Secrets Are Walls That Keep Us Alone
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Sirius stood before his parents in the living room the next afternoon. He had worked all through the night, and all this day.
"You've done well today, Sirius," Walburga said, but it wasn't a compliment. It was a mockery; she was taunting him with the fact that she broke him.
"Thank you," he whispered anyway. He was so tired, and he was hurting, and he was broken.
"It's about time for you to go back to school," she began. "Be sure to uphold the family name. I won't have you associating with mudbloods or traitors."
"Maybe you need a bit of reminding," Orion suggested, stepping forward, "of exactly what the consequences will be, should you be seen with the wrong people, or your grades slip."
Sirius shook his head quickly, wincing as it pulled at his sore muscles.
"Don't shake your head at me, boy!" Orion yelled, hitting Sirius hard across the face.
"Sorry," Sirius said softly, regaining his balance.
"Remember what we've told you," Walburga said. "Now go back to school."
His parents left him standing in the center of the room. He slowly made his way to the stairs, going up to his room to retrieve his things.
Regulus was sitting on Sirius' bed when he got there.
"Sirius?"
"What do you want, Reg?" Sirius asked, tiredly, as he put some clothes into his backpack.
"They're under a lot of pressure," Regulus said. "The Dark Lord has been asking a lot of them lately. They're afraid the stuff you do will get them into more trouble."
"You're defending them?" Sirius demanded disbelievingly. "Are you mental?"
"Just…you should be careful, Sirius," Regulus said carefully.
"Bloody hell, Reg," Sirius said. He zipped up the bag, and shouldered it gingerly.
"I'm just trying to help you!" Regulus protested.
"I don't need your help. Just leave me alone."
The stairs were silent under his trainers; the house elf heads mounted on the walls stared without comment. The only sound was the roar of the fire, and his own voice managing to choke out "Gryffindor common room."
The common room was fairly empty when he arrived, many students taking full advantage of the warm weather.
Sirius shuffled up the spiral staircase to the dormitory. He was startled to find Remus, Peter, James, and Lily spread out across the room finishing some homework.
"Sirius?" Peter said, surprised. The other turned around to look at him.
"Merlin, Sirius, what did they do to you?" James asked, jumping off his bed and going over to his friend. James put a hand up to sweep Sirius' hair aside to look at the large bruise covering his cheek. Sirius flinched and pulled away from James' touch.
Confused, James put his hand down, then back up to grab the strap of Sirius' backpack. "Here, let me take this."
Sirius silently allowed the bag to be taken, still standing at the door, unsure.
"Come on, Sirius," Remus said. "Sit down." He gestured at his bed. Sirius walked over and sat on the edge of the bed next to Remus.
"Maybe you should go to the hospital wing," Lily said, sitting on his other side.
Sirius shook his head. "I don't want to go."
"What happened?" James asked, kneeling in front of Sirius.
Sirius shook his head again.
"You can tell us," Remus said softly.
"Please, Padfoot. Talk to us," James pleaded.
"My parents –" he broke off. His voice was tired, rough like sandpaper, muffled.
"Your parents did this to you?" Peter asked, clearly bothered.
Sirius nodded. "I shouldn't have argued with them."
"That's no excuse for them to do this!" James said, outraged.
"James, calm down," Remus said. He cast a meaningful glance at Sirius. Sirius realized he was shaking.
"C'mon, Padfoot. You need to go to the hospital wing," James said, concerned.
"No."
"Will you let me try to heal you a bit?" Lily asked kindly. Sirius nodded.
As it turned out, Lily was very good at healing spells, though she didn't have near the experience with them that the Marauders did.
"There. That's better, isn't it?" Lily said, satisfied.
"Thank you," Sirius said.
"Dinner's soon," Peter said.
"I have a stomachache," Sirius said, and it wasn't a lie. It had hurt since his mother gave him that potion. He assumed that was her purpose, to give him a lasting reminder of what would happen if he messed up.
"How long has it been since you've eaten?" Remus asked.
"Why?"
"Eating something might help," he replied.
"I want a shower before we go," Sirius said.
"Sure," Lily said easily.
He turned the water on so hot that it burned his chilled skin, but it felt good on his strained muscles. After his shower, he rubbed his hair dry with a towel, pulled on some jeans and a T-shirt, then went to find his friends in the common room.
He walked with his friends down to the Great Hall, struggling to keep pace. Despite Lily healing all visible wounds, he still ached all over. The Cruciatus curse always did that to him.
The Great Hall was very full; it seemed everyone had returned from home. They had trouble finding five seats together, but eventually managed when James scared two first years into moving, prompting Lily to hit his arm and tell him off.
"It's a lost cause," Remus finally told her, when James showed no interest in her lecture. "I've been trying for years. James does not have a conscience."
James scowled. "I do, too. But honestly, what do I care about some midgets anyway?"
"They aren't midgets, James," Lily sighed. "They're only eleven years old!"
The conversation continued much in the same way as Sirius piled food onto his plate. He was hungry, no, starving, despite his stomachache. And Remus had said eating might make him feel better. He took a bite of chicken, then another, and another.
What did it matter anyway? His parents had won, he had surrendered. Nothing he did mattered anymore. It was over.
"Did they starve you too?" James said, staring. "I haven't seen you so hungry in a long time."
"Let him be, James," Remus warned, but it was too late.
What am I doing? Sirius thought, panicked. I can't eat like this. This is all wrong! He put his fork down, not eating another bite for the rest of dinner. He was too full anyway.
When they stood up to leave, Sirius felt very ill. Worse than he had before he ate. Nobody noticed. Lily and James bickered, Peter threw in a few comments, and Remus kept score.
Guilt coursed through him, settling mostly in his stomach, making it hurt that much worse. I shouldn't have done that. I can't believe I did that. I hate myself.
By the third floor, he couldn't take it. "I'll meet you up there. I need to go to the bathroom." And he was rushing down the hall.
The bathroom was empty. His trainers squeaked on the floor, forcing him to think of every step he took towards doing what he knew he shouldn't.
I feel sick, he told himself. This isn't wrong.
Wind whistled through a loose pane, whispering to him. I know what you're doing. You're making yourself sick. Weak. Pathetic.
His stomach hurt worse, it was so bad…He pushed into the last stall, dropping to his knees.
He didn't put his fingers down his throat. He didn't have to. His stomach emptied itself painfully, his eyes forced out tears. He was miserable, yet relieved.
I didn't do anything wrong.