Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition - Round 6

Falmouth Falcons - Keeper

Prompt: (Character Chain) - My pairing - Sirius Black I [following from Captain's pairing] & Sirius Black III

Word Count: 1,093

Betas: Heeley (thank you for whipping this into better shape, I appreciate it more than you know).

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, no descriptions.

The Wrong Question

Sirius lay on his front, his head resting on his forearms, the skin wet from his tears. From his place under the bed, he could hear the sound of voices coming from various points around the house. He'd left the door open a crack so he could see if anyone approached. His mother was currently in the living room below his bedroom, in the middle of a tirade against Sirius while his father tried to calm her down. Regulus could be heard in his own bedroom, playing some game or other with a visiting cousin.

"What did you do?" a small, ethereal voice asked from his side.

Sirius sniffed, wiping his eyes on his arms as he turned his head to face the voice. "I asked the wrong question," he whispered.

The silvery ghost of his namesake gave him a sad smile. Without saying a word, he gently put his hand near Sirius' back, the coolness already helping the residual stinging of his skin through the thin material of his shirt from where the Jinx had struck him. Sirius Black the First was his only friend in the world and he couldn't take him with him when he went to Hogwarts in two days.

"Can you really not come with me?" Sirius asked the ghost. Not the first time he'd asked this question.

The spirit kept moving his hand up and down Sirius' back, a slight shiver going through him every few minutes, and shook his head. "You know I can't leave the house."

"It's not fair," Sirius said with a sigh.

Sirius the ghost lifted his hand. "Better?"

Sirius nodded, wiping away the last of his tears. "At least she can't get at me when I'm at Hogwarts."

The ghost rolled onto his back, putting his arms behind his head, hovering ever so slightly above the floorboards. Sirius watched him staring at the underneath of his bed. He didn't copy his position, like he usually would, staying on his front; he knew from experience his back would still be raw for a few hours.

"What did you ask her?" the ghost asked.

"I asked why I had to be in Slytherin." Sirius took a deep breath, the memory of her change in demeanour at his words still fresh. It was so fast that he didn't even have time to duck the first Jinx. "I only wanted to know what was so wrong with the other houses."

Sirius the ghost rolled back onto his side, still not quite touching the floor, and propped his head up with his hand. "Iola was nearly in Ravenclaw," he said matter-of-factly. "I heard her talking to Elladora one time, saying that the hat wanted to put her in Ravenclaw, but she begged it not to because she was worried about what Father would do."

"Didn't Iola marry a Muggle?" Sirius asked. The ghost nodded. "Did you ever talk to them… after?"

The spirit shook his head. "You're the first."

"Why?" Sirius immediately wished he hadn't asked when he saw how sad he suddenly looked. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, his automatic response to anything that made someone sad or angry.

Sirius the ghost said, "I never got to go outside… They used to hurt me like they hurt you if they saw me waving at the Muggles."

Sirius clenched his fists, feeling so angry at how unfair adults could be – how cruel. It never made any sense. And you couldn't ask any question because that would only make the punishment worse.

"Is…" Sirius wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. What if it was his fate too? But he needed to know. "How did you die, Sirius?"

The ghost flopped onto his back, the movement not making a sound, but sent an icy breeze over Sirius' back.

"Scarlet fever."

"What's that?"

The ghost shrugged, staring up at the bed again. "Just remember feeling really hot and my throat hurt a lot… Mother and Father were angry. They said it was my own fault for being nice to Muggles and then… it just stopped hurting."

"I don't understand," Sirius said with a sigh. "It's always the Muggles' fault… why?"

They lay in silence for a little while. Walburga had stopped shouting and the house was silent except for the usual sounds, like a ticking clock and wood creaking as someone walked over it. Even Regulus and their cousin had gone quiet.

Silence in the house meant danger. Silence meant conversations above a whisper could get you into trouble. "Would you have wanted to be in Slytherin?" Sirius whispered to the ghost.

"I used to think I did, but it just makes everyone more mean or sad… Phineas was the most sad after he went to Hogwarts and my brother was so mean to him… Phineas Nigellus never used to be mean…"

Sirius lay there, listening to the ghost of his great-great-great uncle talk about the relatives of the Black family tree he'd watched over the years, seeing little silver tears fall from his eyes and disappear before they could hit the floor. It was always the same story; one person every generation was beaten or burnt off the family tree because you asked the wrong question. And he daren't ask why because that was the worst question of all to ask an adult.

"Don't be like them, Sirius," the ghost suddenly said, turning back onto his side to face him, his eyes wide. "Maybe if Iola or Phineas or someone else had picked a different house then it might be better, don't you think?"

Sirius the ghost was only eight when he died, and Sirius Black the Third sometimes forgot that. He forgot he was now older than the boy. But Sirius Black the First had to watch their family hurt each other, and even if it wasn't you getting the punishment, it still did something to you deep inside. Even if you were a ghost.

"What if I'm meant to be in Slytherin?"

"Then they'll be happy." The ghost jerked his head in the general direction of the door, meaning Walburga and Orion.

"But I won't be," Sirius said quietly.

"No," the ghost agreed. "And they won't hurt you."

Sirius couldn't agree with that. There was always something that would displease Mother.

"I'm going to do it," Sirius announced after a moment. He lifted his head, his first real smile in hours for his best friend; a ghost who had died centuries before. "I'm going to ask the hat to put me in a different house."