A/N: Sirius is my favorite character, and so for me, I want to establish a past and stronger personality for him than what we see in the books. That being said, this chapter goes into details of child abuse, so if that's uncomfortable for you in any form, avoid reading it. It shouldn't affect your understanding of the entire plot of the story if you skip this chapter (Although if you skip to the end, there will be an important piece of information about horcruxes). Thanks for reading and review!
Despite Madame Pomfrey's desire to keep Sirius in the hospital wing as long as possible, even she couldn't deny how quickly he had been healing. By the end of the week, he was being released and preparing to go back to his quarters.
"Hey pup, can you hand me my shirt? I'm ready to get out of these scratchy hospital pajamas." Sirius asked, pointing towards the clothes Remus had left on his nightstand the previous day.
Harry smiled and threw his dad the shirt. Sirius placed it on the bed beside him and took off the hospital shirt - the sight that Harry met wiped the smile off of his face as quickly as it had come. "Dad, where did you get those scars?" He exclaimed, not thinking about anything besides the monsters that would dare harm his beloved godfather. The scars went up and down his dad's abdomen in thin, pink lines, and looked as if they had once been pretty deep.
Sirius tensed tremendously, realizing that he had accidentally shown Harry the scars his parents left on his torso so many years ago. He immediately pulled the shirt over his head and then, once he was adjusted, he shrugged. "We've talked about my parents some, Harry. I don't like to think about it much."
Harry swallowed thickly, feeling guilty for reminding Sirius of his demons. He looked down at his feet, and heard Sirius walk closer to him, now fully dressed. "Hey now," Sirius said gently. "No looking like that, you didn't know."
Harry looked up at his dad, who was doing his best to smile and look reassuring, but he couldn't fight off the horrible feeling rising up inside of him at his father's panicked grey gaze. "What did they do to you?" He almost whispered, shaking his head. He knew his dad didn't want to talk about it, and he definitely didn't want to make him talk about it, but a part of him had to know. He had told Sirius about Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, so he hoped his godfather would do the same.
Sirius hesitated, looking down at the floor; he looked as if he were trying to say something, but the words wouldn't come out. Finally, he spoke. "I will tell you if you really want to know, but I don't want to tell the story here. Let's go to my quarters and we can get some lunch."
Harry nodded and followed Sirius, but he noticed that his father's good mood had deteriorated and he was slumped over, almost looking defeated as he walked ahead. Harry felt guilty for bringing this up, especially after all the trauma his dad had endured in the last week. When they reached the charms corridor with Sirius's quarters, Harry made to change his mind. "Dad, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked-"
Sirius merely shook his head, a sad smirk playing on his handsome features. "I knew you would want to know the details eventually. I'm going to warn you though, they're gruesome."
Harry shook his head and swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I…"
Sirius ruffled Harry's untidy hair, then gestured for him to go inside. "I'll call Dobby for some lunch, why don't you relax on the couch?"
Harry frowned but walked inside the living quarters. "You're the one that should probably be relaxing, dad, you've been injured all week." Harry pointed out as they both headed towards the living room.
Sirius gave a strained smile and sat down in the arm chair across from Harry, tapping the coffee table to alert the kitchens to their food desires. "Maybe so, but I think we should discuss some things before I do that."
Harry looked up at his father wearily. He felt horrible for bringing up his dad's abuse and very apprehensive at what the "gruesome" details entailed, but he also had to admit, he was curious. His dad had hated being at Grimmauld Place so much, Harry couldn't help but wonder what stirred such strong emotions in his normally solid and confident father.
Food appeared before their eyes on the coffee table, but neither made a move to eat. Sirius took a deep breath, then gestured half-heartedly towards the lunch. "Why don't we eat some first?"
Harry looked at his father and noticed for the first time his tense posture, the way he was slumped over, as if trying to retreat into himself - Harry imagined this is what he himself had looked like a little over a year ago when Sirius and Remus rescued him from the Dursley's. For lack of better description, his godfather looked like a pitiful child, afraid of something that no one truly knew the depth of, and this frightened Harry to no end. He'd rather his father look like the strong man he knew now, the man that could outrun just about anyone and send tricky curses with the mere flick of a wand. The man he knew to be his father stood tall and looked aristocratic, and, when angered, could produce a mere facial expression so stormy, it would send some of the bravest men running. It was disorienting to see this man, a man that had survived and escaped hell on Earth, look so frightened. Harry decided he didn't like it at all - when he thought of Sirius Black, he thought of loyalty, strength, power, protectiveness, and fierce, fierce love. This vulnerability was something new altogether, and Harry wanted to take his father's pain away so badly, it was hurting him.
"Dad, you don't have to tell me-" Harry said, his voice cracking from strain.
Sirius must have realized that he was worrying his son, because he immediately sat up straight, schooling his features to take on a casual look; however, his eyes betrayed his act. The normally kind, grey eyes looked stormy and scared, and Harry knew that his father was trying to appear strong for him. Sirius shook his head as Harry opened his mouth to repeat his earlier protest. "You need to know, puppy. You told me what you went through with your aunt and uncle, and I want to trust you as much as you trusted me then. Alright? It won't be easy for me though, so all I ask is that you're patient."
Harry snapped his mouth shut again and nodded, knowing his father needed to do this, more for himself than Harry. Sirius took a deep shaky breath and gestured for Harry to start eating the lunch while he mentally prepared himself. Harry obeyed his father's request by picking up a sandwich and taking a bite out of it; as he ate it, he quietly observed his dad. Sirius had a hand covering his eyes and he was taking deep, calming breaths.
Harry had swallowed and started to protest again, not wanting to put his father through any form of misery, but before he could form a statement, Sirius had begun talking. He was speaking quietly, and his voice shook slightly, but the words rang clear in the air.
"Things were fine for me until I was about six years old. My mother and father were never affectionate people, but they gave me positive attention nonetheless. After all, I was their eldest son, and that position holds a lot of esteem in a pureblood family. However, as I grew older and developed a stronger personality, things got difficult. I have always been… er-defiant, even as a young boy. My parents didn't find my habits of running about or playing in the mud as fitting for the heir of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black." Sirius spoke the last part with spite in his voice. "Those early punishments weren't bad. A few swats on my backside or timeouts. However, as I started doing more controversial things, they got harsher. When I was six, I met a muggle girl that lived in the house beside ours. I had been playing outside at the park across from Grimmauld and she approached me. As a child, I had no way of knowing who was a muggle and who was a pureblood, so I was kind to her, and we played together for about an hour. Once my mother realized what I was doing, she rushed out of our house and yanked me back inside, berating me for my stupidity as the heir. I was… scared. Though my parents had been harsh with me, they were never extremely forceful until that day. I defended the girl when my mother told me what a vile creature she was, and that didn't help my case any. My mother called Kreacher and demanded he lock me in the kitchen cupboard. She didn't say for how long. I think I've suppressed that memory, but I just remember being terrified of the small, dark space. It was cold and… and… there was a bogart that took up residence in there..." Sirius shivered and shook his head. "I'm not sure how long I was in there, but it was definitely overnight. I know because I was crying for food by the time my father retrieved me. I remember wanting desperately for him to comfort me, but when I went to hug him he shoved me off and said being 'needy' wasn't becoming of a pureblood heir. Then, he sat me down in my bedroom and told me he was disappointed in me and that I wasn't allowed to leave the house for two weeks due to my poor choice in friends. I think that was the first time I realized my parent's weren't good people. That little girl was wonderful, and in my mind, if she was a muggle, then muggles really couldn't be as bad as my parents seemed to think they were. The punishments continued on the more I rebelled against them, and the cupboard was only the beginning of their cruelty. After using that a few times and realizing they weren't getting through to me, they resorted to other measures."
Sirius voice had gotten quiet again, and he was looking at the floor. He took a deep, shaky breath, and continued. "My parents felt that beatings were too much of a muggle practice, so they never actually laid a hand on me. They used curses instead…" Harry noticed his father's hands were shaking, and then, out of nowhere, Sirius pulled off his shirt and turned around. Harry let out a small cry at the sight that he was met with - in the hospital wing, Sirius had been facing him, so all he saw were the deep, pale, pink marks running up his stomach. Now he saw the extent of his father's scars were much worse.
Red, angry marks ran up and down his father's spine and over his shoulders. They were wide and deep, indented into his skin forever. Scars overlapped one another, showing that whatever had caused them had been used multiple times. Harry stared intensely at his dad's broad shoulders and back, feeling an aching hatred towards the Black family.
Sirius turned around and continued, his voice still shaky. "When they realized the cellar didn't work on me, they… used other dark curses. This one, as you can guess, produced similar results to if I had been whipped. That one was their favorite to use. I got it for just about any trouble I was in, whether it be something small like smiling at a muggle while we were out shopping or disgracing the Black name at some pureblood function. It was always the same - my aunts, uncles and cousins would all come over to Grimmauld Place and sit in the living room after whatever incident I had caused. I would be sat in the middle of all of them. My parents liked to lecture before they did the punishment - they would humiliate and berate me in front of the rest of my family, showing me that I truly was an outsider in all of their eyes. Then I'd have to…" Sirius shuddered, his face turning a bright shade of red, showing his embarrassment over whatever happened next.
Harry started to tell Sirius to stop, that he didn't have to share this with him, but Sirius pressed on, shaking his head to tell Harry to let him finish.
"They would make me strip down to my underwear. My family would taunt and mock me, They said things like… like 'what a shame such a pretty boy is a blood traitor,' or 'look at all those scars, surely even an idiot would learn his place after all those beatings.' My parents put me on display, making me as vulnerable as possible before making me bend over and… and…" Sirius let his first sign of weakness break through, and a few tears slipped down his cheeks, but he wiped them away hastily and pushed forward with the story. "They would curse me, which is what caused the whip marks. They would use the curse multiple times in a row, the length of the whipping depending on how intense my offense had been. That was my main punishment until my first year at Hogwarts, when I was sorted into Gryffindor and became friends with Moony, Wormtail, and your dad. Once my parents realized the years of whippings hadn't fixed their heir into the proper pureblood they expected him to be, they were horrendously angry. My mother sent me a howler describing in detail that I was the "shame of her flesh and a filthy blood traitor. She said that I was expected home for Christmas and that my father would deal with me then." A flash of a smile came across his father's features and he met Harry's eyes for the first time. "Your dad was in hysterics after he heard the howler, insisting that I come to his house for Christmas, even though I had just met him the day before. That's when I knew he would be my best friend."
After this small confession, Sirius's features turned solemn again and he looked back down at his feet. "I told James that I had to go home, but that I would be okay. I lied to my friends about the abuse, refused to let them in, show them my scars, or get help. Needless to say, I went home for Christmas break feeling utterly alone and… well, terrified. That's when…" Sirius trailed off, but he sat up a little straighter and gestured to the long, deep marks that graced the front of his abdomen. "It was a similar process to the whippings. They lectured me harshly in front of the rest of my family, made me strip down to my underwear so I would be humiliated, but instead of having me bend over, they… they made me lie flat on my back. I'm not sure what curse my father used, but it felt like a knife was running up and down my stomach very slowly, cutting deep inside me. It was some of the worst pain I had ever been in at the time. The punishment lasted hours, each of the scars taking thirty minutes to get as deep as they were. After that, my family left me laying there, putting some gauze over my injuries to keep me from bleeding out… though I'm not sure why they took that precaution, they seemed to despise me." Sirius spat out the last part, shaking his head bitterly. "After that, all of the attention was on my younger brother. I was constantly reminded that he was the better son, that I was a worthless blood traitor, but thankfully that incident at the beginning of the break was the only one of its kind. After that, I stayed in my room, hidden away, only leaving to get food."
Sirius was shaking at this point and Harry couldn't take it any longer - he had held off on comforting his dad because he wasn't sure if that's what his father needed, but he couldn't help it at this point. He walked over to the arm chair his dad was sitting in and pulled him up, then hugged him as tightly as he could, trying to remind his father of where he was, trying to pull him out of the deep depths of his painful childhood memories. After a few moments, strong and warm, but trembling arms encircled Harry, and he felt his father kiss the top of his head. "You don't have to keep going," Harry mumbled, resting his cheek against the warm, bare flesh of his father's shoulder.
"Yes, I do," Sirius whispered, pulling out of the hug and cupping Harry's face. "You did it for me. I need to finish what I've started, pup."
Harry swallowed thickly and nodded, but pulled his dad over to the couch where he was sitting. He leaned against Sirius, trying to convey to his father how much he loved him, wanting to give the man moral support so he could finish his story. Sirius smiled wearily at his son, but then looked to the floor again.
"When I returned to Hogwarts that year, I was a wreck and my friends figured it out immediately. James did everything he could to keep me from returning to my parents, but there wasn't much that could be done - my family was the most powerful wizarding family in the world. I got to go spend Christmas with the Potters every year after that, and a few weeks during the summer, but I spent the next five years with my parents, nonetheless. However, when they realized that people were concerned about my scars, they resorted to using curses that wouldn't leave marks. My father often attempted to use the imperius on me, but I could fight that one off fairly easily. They used the cruciatus curse for more intense offenses, but for the most part they just kept me locked in my room. Fifth year, I decided I'd had enough. My father had used the cruciatus on me that morning for ten minutes, and I was trembling and crying and I had injured myself trying to fight the pain... there was so much blood on the ground from where I had clawed at my skin… I couldn't stand it anymore. I used the mirror to tell James I was coming and then I left. I never went back until this year…" Sirius finally mumbled, slumping back against the couch.
His father's shirt was still off, and Harry couldn't stop looking at the long scars that adorned his stomach. He felt tears prick his eyes, and hatred rose in him towards Walburga and Orion Black. If they hadn't already died, Harry would have personally killed them.
As he brooded, Harry felt his father stroke his hair gently. Harry looked up at him questioningly and was met with kind, grey eyes. The panic and fear had receded, and now Sirius just looked exhausted. "Dad… I…" Harry began, only to be cut off by Sirius.
"It doesn't matter, puppy." Sirius kissed the top of Harry's head tenderly before sitting up and grabbing his shirt, throwing it back over his shoulders and hiding the nasty scars. "I think I'm going to go take a nap or something, we can have dinner later."
"Dad, wait." Harry said, standing up next to his father and blocking the path to his room.
Sirius smiled at Harry kindly, but shook his head. "I relived those memories everyday in Azkaban, kiddo. That wasn't something new for me. I'll be fine, I just need an hour or so. Okay?"
Harry hesitated, but finally nodded and reached out to hug Sirius one last time. "I love you, dad."
He felt his father stroke his hair with one hand while the other wrapped firmly around him. "I love you too, puppy. Do some homework in here until I come back, okay?"
Harry nodded and went back to his place on the couch to start a potions essay while his father retreated into his bedroom to rest. However, Harry couldn't focus on his work - all he could see were the pink scars that stretched all over his father, daily reminders of what his parents had done to him. He shivered, now realizing that his dad knew exactly what he had gone through with the Dursley's, if not worse.
Hot tears pricked his eyes as he thought of the young, handsome Sirius Black James Potter had known - the one with so much passion and fire in him for doing good and for having fun. His dad was so strong to be able to endure such a hard home life and still be so fun-loving.
Harry buried his face in his hands, feeling grief overwhelm him, grief for the man he had come to know, the man who taught him what love really was, despite having one of the worst lives imaginable. He let out a choked sob, but before he could break down fully, the couch dipped a little and a warm, familiar hand was stroking through his hair.
"Forgive me, puppy," his father's voice said, close to his ear. "I should have realized that story would upset you, I don't know why I left you alone."
Harry felt another sob rack his body as his father pulled him close; he felt so, so guilty for the entire thing. He brought it up, he wanted Sirius to tell him, and now Sirius was so worried for him that he couldn't recover properly. "I-I'm sorry, dad." Harry choked out in between his tears, but Sirius merely shushed him, pulling him closer.
Once Harry had managed to regain his composure, he looked up at Sirius sheepishly. This was the second time he had broken down in a week over his father, when Sirius hadn't seemed upset at all. Before he could attempt to apologize again, Sirius shook his head. "This helps me more than it helps you, okay? I went to my room then realized I wouldn't feel any better until I had you close again. I came out here of my own violation, I promise." He said gently, tucking Harry's head under his chin and holding him.
Harry nodded and looked around the room, trying to think of something to say to ease the heavy tension from the day's events. Luckily, his dad did that for him:
"I'd say we're some pretty unlucky bastards, huh?"
Harry chuckled and shook his head, his heart-lifting at his father's easy-going manner. "I don't think so," Harry said after a moment, looking up at his dad with conviction. "I have you as my parent, I'd say that makes me pretty lucky."
Sirius smiled tenderly at Harry and kissed the top of his head gently. "And that is exactly why I came back out here, you know just how to make me feel better. We'll get through this puppy…" He added the last part hesitantly, but Harry knew his dad would do anything and everything to fulfill the promise of a happier life for them both.
The two stayed curled up together for a little bit longer before Sirius got up. "Alright, I'm a week behind on lessons from the Grawp incident, so I should probably figure something out for you guys to do tomorrow in class… and you should probably work on that potion's essay. I'll call for some dinner while we work, okay?"
Harry nodded, then turned back to his paper. "I have a lesson with Dumbledore tomorrow too, apparently it's pretty important."
Sirius nodded in understanding. "He's asked Remus and I to accompany him next weekend on a mission." At Harry's panicked look, Sirius was quick to add, "It's nothing dangerous, just extracting an object from an old house. He thinks it will help in the hunt for horcruxes. If Voldemort made seven and you've destroyed two, we need to find the rest soon."
Harry nodded and turned his attention back to his homework, content to have a peaceful evening with his father before the hectic week started.
