Title: Siriusly
Chapter: 7
By: The Miserable
Disclaimer: Pretty much J.K.'s. I own the actual idea of this piece of fanfiction (and this piece alone), as well as the character of Dorothy Circe, the DADA teacher.
Spoilers: I'd have read 1-4.
Rating: PG-13. I really should lighten up on the swearing.
Note: If you are for some reason interested in how my nickname came to be, it's on my Bio page now [all for Sirius ;)]



He can't know, Dorothy reasoned. He would have said something by now. She loved playing mind games with herself. He did, after all, say something. He just didn't say it to her.

She lay down on her bed in the dormitory that Dumbledore had provided her and looked around. She had really made this room her own. Amazing it was, how a Muggle would feel perfectly comfortable in only this room in the castle. Her bookshelves were lined with Muggle writing (i.e. Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities, Great Expectations; Shakespeare's Hamlet, As You Like It, and Julius Caesar), a poster above her bed indicating the movie, Moulin Rouge. Before she came to work at Hogwarts, she lived in the Muggle world. Ultimately, she was appreciative of the things that the Muggles had accomplished, and thankfully, she was granted the ability to match clothes from it- which sadly was more than her colleagues could say.

A knock sounded at the door. Who could it be but Sirius?

She groaned and turned over face down. She could take him out now, but that would be too easy- and moreover, too incriminating. Sirius didn't give up. With a low, "Alohomora!" the door popped open.

He closed the door behind him and it locked with a click. He sat at the end of her bed, lightly pushing her feet aside, not saying anything for a moment. Then-

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Simple question. More importantly, one she had been expecting... so why did it bring tears to her eyes? That's right..., she thought. The truth.

"Because I'm trying to kill you," she muttered. Seeing the look on his face, she added, "Just kidding. I don't know. I didn't think it mattered. It wasn't like you remembered who I was, so why bother reminding you? Supressed memories and all that."

He shook his head. "You don't know what Azkaban is like. I spent all my time huddled in a corner, chanting 'James and Lily. Peter and Remus.' Odd ramblings that the guards just assumed I had gone insane. I was keeping my mind focused on the situation. If I didn't, I wouldn't be better off than any other convict. At least I knew I was innocent. You were... pure of heart, I suppose. Completely uninvolved. If I thought about you, your memory would be sucked out of me by the dementors."

Dorothy nodded. Bullshit. First, she had met the Lestranges. They hadn't gone insane because they believed that what they had done had been justified. You just had to outsmart the dementors... and if this many people had managed it, it couldn't have been all that hard. Either lose your conscience (if there's nothing to gnaw away at, how can guilt affect you?) or actually not commit the crime, as Sirius hadn't.

Still...

"Don't worry about it, Sirius. What's passed has passed." he sat up, still avoiding his eyes. They did, unlike the Lestranges' eyes, have a haunted look upon them. Maybe they were insane in their own right. But beyond the deadness there, he still was the old Sirius Black. Someone to confide in. Someone she couldn't kill.

Someone she'd have to.

He lifted her chin, and still she didn't meet his eyes. He gave up and stood, walking towards the door. She followed, so as to not be rude.

"Promise?" he pleaded, referring to their earlier conversation.

She nodded. "Promise."

The door closed with a sound that seemed so finalized... Was it securing their "friendship" or foretelling his death? Both? Dorothy shrugged. There was quite a bit of thinking left to do.