There was something wrong with him. He knew that, James knew that, James' parents knew that, Remus and Peter knew that. But no one was saying anything. They didn't even comment when he couldn't bring himself to get out of bed before breakfast. Euphemia just brought up a plate for him later, fixed his hair, and did a sneaky scourgify she thought he didn't know about, all this without scolding him once.
The only thing they were willing to comment on was his refusal to press charges on his mum.
It pissed Fleamont off, he could tell even though he had yet to yell or shout. Or maybe he wasn't going to, maybe normal parents didn't do that. He'd argue, but not fight, push but not too hard. He favored a logical argument rather than an emotional one, it threw Sirius for such a loop the first time he'd nearly agreed out of fright.
Euphemia realized that her husband was scaring him faster than even Sirius did. Because normal people didn't get scared of old men calmly explaining their side of an argument.
But Sirius had discovered the hard way that adults were scarier when they seemed calm.
Fleamont didn't argue after that, even if he hadn't given up. He'd bring it up now and again, make a case for Regulus at dinner, promise Sirius wouldn't have to act as a witness when James dragged Sirius out of the guest room for some sun, but he backed off when Sirius said no.
Sirius wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. But that wasn't new anymore. Sirius didn't know how he felt most of the time now. Usually, it was just a bland nothing that might have been apathy or might have been melancholy. But other times he was feeling so much he couldn't breathe. He'd ditched James so many times in the past week that he was amazed James still bothered dragging him out at all. Because sometimes he wasn't strong enough to handle the onslaught and he hadn't quite stooped low enough to let James see him break down.
Euphemia saw it once. An accident really, she was brushing his hair when all of the sudden he realized he'd lost everything he'd ever owned. Even the clothes he'd run away in were damaged beyond repair. Everything he had was borrowed, he didn't so much as have a knut to his name.
Was it sadness, or anger, or fear that caused him to cry out suddenly? He wasn't sure but it hurt like he'd been slapped. And suddenly there were two sturdy but gentle arms wrapped around him like she was holding him together as he fell apart. Like she was afraid something would get lost if she let go.
Maybe it would.
Maybe it already had.
"Sh-sh, it's alright, Love, it's alright. You're going to be just fine," she whispered in his ear. He didn't try to snuggle closer, his body just did it on its own.
"You're safe now."
He wanted to tell her he knew that. He wasn't afraid. But he wasn't sure that was true, even if he had enough of a voice left to say it.
She kissed him on the temple. It was weird and he wasn't sure why she did it, but it felt good.
"There you go," she said when his sobs began to slow enough for him to breathe properly. "I've got you."
Was this what it was like? To have a real family. Was this what mothers were supposed to do?
His real mum hadn't stepped foot in his room for ten years before finally trying to kill him. Euphemia Potter popped in every morning. Was that normal? Surely not, surely it was just because there was something wrong with him. But even if that was the case, even if it was only because he was broken, Sirius didn't think he minded.
"Are they usually that sudden?" she asked gently, giving him space to not answer.
"Some-sometimes."
"Do you want to talk about it?" She went back to his hair, as though she didn't mind either way. He knew better than that and for once he kind of wanted to. It was a safer topic than most of the things that upset him lately. Even if it felt a little shallow, crying over his stuff.
She was thrilled when he told him. She tried to hide it, not wanting to be happy when he was upset, but this she could do something about. If there was something the Potters, as a collective, were good at it was buying stuff for people.
Or maybe she was just happy he'd told her what was wrong.
Could be both. Probably was both.
By the end of the week, Sirius had more stuff than he'd ever owned in his life. It was pretty funny. He hadn't meant for them to go out of their way, but suddenly he had a closet full of clothes that had never been James'-though no doubt he'd end up wearing at some point-and bunch of random junk he didn't need.
He still didn't have a wand, but he'd never been more thankful for junk.
The day after they'd gone clothes shopping-for six hours because James was being picky since Sirius didn't have the energy to do so himself-he actually managed to get up in time for breakfast, dressing in his favorite of the new clothes.
The Potters looked like he'd just announced world peace.
It didn't fix what was wrong with him, he still didn't usually bother to get up before noon, or bathe, or eat without being begged. But it felt like a step in the right direction. Felt like he belonged here like the guest room had been his all along.
For the first time since he was eleven, he felt like he had a home outside of Hogwarts.
So for the first time in the two weeks he'd been living there, Sirius explored his new home. He'd never bothered during the holidays he'd stayed there more focused on whatever project they were working on or on Christmas which was still a bit of a novelty to him.
That's when he found the most gorgeous grand piano he'd ever seen in his life. Tucked into a corner of a dining room the Potters didn't seem to ever use, judging by the layer of dust over everything. No doubt it was for formal dinners as the Potters were the type to entertain.
The instrument was beautiful, pearl white with elegant designs along the side. Antique without a doubt and the dust that coated the keys felt like a crime.
Before he even had a chance to wonder if maybe they'd be upset if he messed with it he found himself dusting it off with just his hand. He'd have to grab a rag from the kitchen later.
There was still a book on the music shelf, the light from the windows didn't reach that far so it had been spared from fading. He sat down, wondering if he was far enough away that the Potters wouldn't hear him if he started playing, and found he didn't really care either way. They weren't likely to throw him out at least.
The music was untitled, handwritten too. He was curious and didn't trust himself to remember his favorite songs after so long without any practice. Best start with something he could look at.
Placing his hands on the neglected keys he began to play, quiet at first then louder as he started to enjoy himself. Perhaps he was out of practice, but he really couldn't have cared less.
The song was a lullaby, and it was lovely. Unique as far as he could tell. He played it several times through, remembering how the instrument worked and adding a harmony to the melody on his own after the third time.
He didn't know how long he sat there, playing the same song over and over, each repetition more complex than the last, but he was afraid to leave. Drowning himself in music was a pleasure he'd forgotten he loved and he didn't want to go back to his confusing real world where he didn't understand his emotions, or why everyone was trying so hard to help him.
The lullaby had a hopeful tone to it. He could feel the vibrations of the instrument in his bones. That he could understand, it was simple emotion.
"Padfoot?" The voice was gentle as though it didn't want to interrupt him just as much as he didn't want to be interrupted, but he forced his eyes open anyway. Looking at James and then looking back at the keyboard quickly. "You okay?"
"What? Yeah," he forced himself to look up again. Euphemia was standing in the doorway… crying. Why was she crying?
"I didn't know you could play." James smiled, wiping off a section of the piano and leaning on it.
"Yeah, learned when I was little." Sirius wasn't looking at him still, Euphemia left the room and they heard a quiet sob just before she was out of earshot. "Is she okay? I didn't mean to upset her."
"I guess her gran wrote that and used to play it for her at night," he shrugged. "She kinda just froze when she heard it all the way in the kitchen."
"I probably should have left alone," Sirius said softly.
"It's fine. She loved it. Sometimes people don't want to forget." James added his tone serious but a smile on his face nonetheless before deciding on a joke. "Dinner might be a little late though."
Sirius gave him a shy smile. Sirius Black didn't do bashful, yet for some reason the idea that James had caught him made him feel just that.
"It was really pretty, by the way. How long has it been since you played?"
"Sometimes when I was home alone I'd use ours… theirs, I guess, but it isn't this nice." Sirius wiped some more of the dust off as though he was petting it. "Overused, I think. They still make Reg take lessons and he hates it. Didn't bother with me though, not anymore."
"And you like it," James finished, Sirius' attraction to the ivories must have been obvious to his best friend. "Figures."
"I've… never told anyone that before," Sirius said hesitantly. "I think Regulus figured it out, but I've never said anything. It's not really… me y'know. Piano is for creative people who are all elegant and gentle… I'm just rebellious and stubborn."
"I think it's exactly like you." James countered, causing Sirius to look up at him, confused. "You try to hide it, but I've always seen you as all those things. Not that the rebellious stubbornness isn't you also, but I dunno, this seems more you than that does."
Sirius continued to look at him, surprised and a little doubtful of his words.
"I've always thought that the rebelliousness was a bit of a facade anyway." James shrugged and Sirius glared at him.
"Is not."
James laughed and nudged Sirius over to sit next to him on the bench. "Can you play anything else?"
Sirius blinked at him. "What?"
"You know other songs right? Or do you need music? I guess it would be hard to memorize everything, but you had your eyes closed so I thought you might just be good at remembering them." James was completely missing the point.
"You want to hear me play something?" Sirius looked at him, he looked like he was being serious.
"Well yeah." James gave him the most impatient look as though he thought Sirius was being stupid on purpose. "I like piano music, you're really good too, and you like to play it so why not? We should probably pick something that won't make mum cry though."
Sirius nodded and placed his fingers back on the keyboard, deciding what to play. He'd never had someone ask him to play for them, other than his instructor, of course. He chose his favorite song as a child and began trying to remember all the notes after so long.
It was strangely nice. Playing with a friend by his side, he'd always thought the piano was out of character for him, but it was nice to have someone who not only enjoyed hearing him but didn't think it was weird. James was a good audience too, he kept quiet and kept the distracting movement to a minimum. It was like James had always known and wasn't at all surprised to see him playing. Sirius enjoyed it immensely and was disappointed when the song was done.
"Wow, you just have that whole thing memorized? That's kind of awesome."
"It was my favorite as a kid. I played it all the time." He explained pleased by the praise.
"I'm not surprised. It was before you got all rebellious and stuff wasn't it. It's just pretty and soft."
"Yeah, I liked softer music, lullabies, and junk. Still kinda do, but it's…"
"Not you." James finished for him and Sirius smiled at him. "Pads, I've never told you this but… I like the elegant you more than the rebellious you. It feels more genuine."
Sirius pondered this but said nothing. James just smiled and patted him on the shoulder, understanding and leaving him to his thoughts.
He started playing again, something else this time, but he didn't let himself get as sucked in like last time.