AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wow! Thank all of you guys who reviewed! I sent all of the
signed ones slam book questions, if that's an okay way to repay you. I got
21 reviews, and was ecstatic! Well, I know that you wanted this chapter to
be longer, but it really isn't. I'm sorry. It's more of a transition/angsty
chapter, so bear with me. I'm trying to get one out a day. Thanks again for
the reviews.
Chapter Two:
The ceiling of Sirius' old room amused him, for some reason. It was something that he had looked at for so much of his childhood, seeing as he hardly ever wanted to be with the other children outside. Now, it was a little moldy, with cobwebs draping the corners like fishnet skirts; the spiders only looked like they belonged there if they were dead.
He hated being back there, back in his old house and not even being able to step outside for a breath of fresh air. The house was suffocating him, killing him slowly and painfully, and he could do nothing about it. Then last night that slime ball Snape had showed up again, reminded him over and over about how useless he was, how he could hardly protect his own godson. It all made him want to scream.
But Sirius couldn't scream, he couldn't scream at the top of his lungs until his voice ran out and keep screaming even after that. He'd have the entire house rushing to him, asking him what was wrong, if he wanted to talk, why had he screamed as though someone was pushing a knife into his chest? Sirius didn't want to answer questions and he definitely did not want to appear insane, which he did believe that he was. And so he played nice, he pretended that he was happy that everyone was there and that everything was fine. He really should be grateful for simply being alive, he knew he should, but he would rather be dead. Better dead than imprisoned.
He had just convinced Lupin to charm him out of his hangover, although unwillingly. It felt as though Lupin wanted him to suffer it, as a reminder not to do it again, but Sirius couldn't keep away; the liquor was his escape, his only way of forgetting where he was and why he was the very last place he wanted to be.
However, even though Lupin had reduced his misery, Sirius still felt entirely immobile. He lay upon his old bed, his clothes wrinkled and his face unshaven, staring at the ceiling and telling himself over and over: there is no motion. There is no motion. There is no motion. There is no motion. There. Is. No. Motion.
A knock sounded throughout the room, but Sirius still did not move or speak. A second knock came, followed by his best friend's voice,
"Sirius? You've got to come out now," Lupin said, "Dumbledore's here to see you, and he says that it's urgent."
Sirius did nothing. He was concentrating very hard on processing everything that Lupin had just said; Dumbledore was here, urgent, speak to him, come out now. That was how it went? Yeah, that was how it went.
The door opened. "Sirius, this isn't a choice. Dumbledore's downstairs and he doesn't have very much time. You can't just leave him there."
Sirius blinked at the ceiling. It winked back at him.
"Ill take it, Remus," came Dumbledore's voice from the doorway.
"Excellent; I'll be downstairs," Lupin said, exiting the room. Dumbledore swept across to where Lupin had just been standing and looked down at Sirius, frowning slightly.
"Sirius, this has got to stop. I have a job that I need you to do, but I cannot assign you to it unless I can trust that you will be sober around the clock."
Sirius sat up, facing Dumbledore. Finally, something for him to do; whatever job it was, it would keep him sober, just so that he wouldn't be bored enough to think about what hell his life was like.
"I'm sober right now," he told Dumbledore.
"Barely," Dumbledore said simply, but continued, "We have found a Death Eater who apparently has escaped Voldemort and is terrified of being found. You can see, of course, the problem in this. We have no way of telling whether he is lying or not; Severus is working on a batch of Veritaserum but it will not be ready for a month, and if he is it could mean a lot of trouble for the Order. Your job would be to keep him here, away from all meetings and in the house. Under no circumstances will you allow him out of your sight, just in case." Dumbledore paused, his eyes boring into Sirius', then went on,
"This is a tremendous responsibility, and it will force you to stay away from alcohol. I have told you before not to drink but now I have a reason for you. Can you handle this, Sirius?"
Sirius considered. He knew that he really should quit drinking, but the more he thought about it the harder it sounded. He wished that he was a regular person who didn't have this worry, who could easily turn away alcohol with a wave of the hand. He wished that he had someone who would force him to stop, who would vanish it all any time he got near it. But Sirius had no one.
"I'll take it," he told Dumbledore firmly. Dumbledore smiled.
"The boy is unconscious right now," Dumbledore said, "and we want him to wake up on his own accord, so for now your job is quite easy. He's at Hogwarts right now, but will come to you once everyone here leaves for school. It is better that way."
Sirius nodded and pulled himself off the bed. He followed Dumbledore out of the room, down the stairs, and saw him out the door. It was only slightly more painful then lying motionless on his bed.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So? You can probably see where this is going, and I'm trying to move closer back to Sirius. I really actually do take into account what you tell me, and appreciate even the shortest reviews. Everything does help. Thank you!
Chapter Two:
The ceiling of Sirius' old room amused him, for some reason. It was something that he had looked at for so much of his childhood, seeing as he hardly ever wanted to be with the other children outside. Now, it was a little moldy, with cobwebs draping the corners like fishnet skirts; the spiders only looked like they belonged there if they were dead.
He hated being back there, back in his old house and not even being able to step outside for a breath of fresh air. The house was suffocating him, killing him slowly and painfully, and he could do nothing about it. Then last night that slime ball Snape had showed up again, reminded him over and over about how useless he was, how he could hardly protect his own godson. It all made him want to scream.
But Sirius couldn't scream, he couldn't scream at the top of his lungs until his voice ran out and keep screaming even after that. He'd have the entire house rushing to him, asking him what was wrong, if he wanted to talk, why had he screamed as though someone was pushing a knife into his chest? Sirius didn't want to answer questions and he definitely did not want to appear insane, which he did believe that he was. And so he played nice, he pretended that he was happy that everyone was there and that everything was fine. He really should be grateful for simply being alive, he knew he should, but he would rather be dead. Better dead than imprisoned.
He had just convinced Lupin to charm him out of his hangover, although unwillingly. It felt as though Lupin wanted him to suffer it, as a reminder not to do it again, but Sirius couldn't keep away; the liquor was his escape, his only way of forgetting where he was and why he was the very last place he wanted to be.
However, even though Lupin had reduced his misery, Sirius still felt entirely immobile. He lay upon his old bed, his clothes wrinkled and his face unshaven, staring at the ceiling and telling himself over and over: there is no motion. There is no motion. There is no motion. There is no motion. There. Is. No. Motion.
A knock sounded throughout the room, but Sirius still did not move or speak. A second knock came, followed by his best friend's voice,
"Sirius? You've got to come out now," Lupin said, "Dumbledore's here to see you, and he says that it's urgent."
Sirius did nothing. He was concentrating very hard on processing everything that Lupin had just said; Dumbledore was here, urgent, speak to him, come out now. That was how it went? Yeah, that was how it went.
The door opened. "Sirius, this isn't a choice. Dumbledore's downstairs and he doesn't have very much time. You can't just leave him there."
Sirius blinked at the ceiling. It winked back at him.
"Ill take it, Remus," came Dumbledore's voice from the doorway.
"Excellent; I'll be downstairs," Lupin said, exiting the room. Dumbledore swept across to where Lupin had just been standing and looked down at Sirius, frowning slightly.
"Sirius, this has got to stop. I have a job that I need you to do, but I cannot assign you to it unless I can trust that you will be sober around the clock."
Sirius sat up, facing Dumbledore. Finally, something for him to do; whatever job it was, it would keep him sober, just so that he wouldn't be bored enough to think about what hell his life was like.
"I'm sober right now," he told Dumbledore.
"Barely," Dumbledore said simply, but continued, "We have found a Death Eater who apparently has escaped Voldemort and is terrified of being found. You can see, of course, the problem in this. We have no way of telling whether he is lying or not; Severus is working on a batch of Veritaserum but it will not be ready for a month, and if he is it could mean a lot of trouble for the Order. Your job would be to keep him here, away from all meetings and in the house. Under no circumstances will you allow him out of your sight, just in case." Dumbledore paused, his eyes boring into Sirius', then went on,
"This is a tremendous responsibility, and it will force you to stay away from alcohol. I have told you before not to drink but now I have a reason for you. Can you handle this, Sirius?"
Sirius considered. He knew that he really should quit drinking, but the more he thought about it the harder it sounded. He wished that he was a regular person who didn't have this worry, who could easily turn away alcohol with a wave of the hand. He wished that he had someone who would force him to stop, who would vanish it all any time he got near it. But Sirius had no one.
"I'll take it," he told Dumbledore firmly. Dumbledore smiled.
"The boy is unconscious right now," Dumbledore said, "and we want him to wake up on his own accord, so for now your job is quite easy. He's at Hogwarts right now, but will come to you once everyone here leaves for school. It is better that way."
Sirius nodded and pulled himself off the bed. He followed Dumbledore out of the room, down the stairs, and saw him out the door. It was only slightly more painful then lying motionless on his bed.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So? You can probably see where this is going, and I'm trying to move closer back to Sirius. I really actually do take into account what you tell me, and appreciate even the shortest reviews. Everything does help. Thank you!