Chapter 6
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"Thank you, I'd appreciate that." Sirius gave me a warm smile in return
and stood up, brushing off his ragged robes. He picked me up in his arms again,
and after tensing up for a moment I tried to relax. He carried me to the
bathroom, nudging the door open with his foot before entering. I muttered
"Lumos," and the lights flickered on, shining down on the small, blue-tiled
bathroom. He set me on the counter then turned on the faucet, testing the water
with his hand. I started getting nervous: he wasn't expecting me to undress, was
he?
"Um.Mr. Black." I began.
"Sirius," he said, looking at me from over his shoulder and giving me a
reassuring smile.
"Sirius, um, I'd really prefer to keep my clothes on." This was a bit of an
understatement: under no circumstances was I planning to let him bathe me in
the nude. A bit of faint color rose to his cheeks and he averted his eyes.
"I was just planning to run the water over your hair, nothing more," he
said quietly. "If you don't want to get your shirt wet you can just pull down the
neckline a little." I nodded, blushing a little myself now, and proceeded to do so,
pulling down my robes just enough to bare my shoulders. When the water was
warm enough, Sirius turned back to me, lifted me from the counter, and placed
me on the floor.
"Just hang your head over the edge," he instructed, switching the water
flow from the faucet to the shower wand. I composed my legs into a kneeling
position and did as he said, feeling distinctly uncomfortable, mostly because I
felt like I was stretching out my neck for a guillotine. I felt Sirius kneel behind me
and bring his arm over my shoulders. A warm gush of water poured over my
head, reminding me unpleasantly of blood; an association that was reinforced as
I saw that the water streaming from my scalp had a reddish tinge. I shuddered,
and immediately the flow of water moved off my head.
"Is it too cold?" asked Sirius.
"No, it's fine," I replied through a curtain of dripping hair. The water
resumed, then I felt gentle fingers beginning to rub my hair, coaxing the sweat
and dried blood out of the strands.
"Tell me if I hurt you," he murmured, moving to the other side of my
head. After he had washed all he could of the loose hair, he began massaging my
scalp, careful to stay away from the gash. Despite his care, my head hurt with
every touch. I hissed in pain, and the fingers stopped.
"Did that hurt?" Sirius inquired.
"Yes," I said, breathing shallowly, "but I think I'm just going to have to
deal with it if I want to get clean." Sirius' fingers hesitated, then began washing
again, flinching every time I made a sound of pain. When the water finally ran
clear again, he turned off the water and draped a towel over my shoulders.
"There," he said, gathering my hair back and toweling it until it stopped
dripping, "You can get up now." There was a pause, then his hands stilled.
"Sorry," he said quietly.
"It's okay," I replied, somewhat distracted by my aching head. "Can I go
back to the fire now?"
"Certainly," he said, though I heard a note of disappointment in his voice.
Sirius gathered me into his arms once again, but I couldn't help wincing in pain
when my head was jolted. I was startled to see a flicker of frustration and anger
on his face, but it seemed to be focused inwards rather than at me. He carried be
back to the living room and laid me in front of the hearth. He put my head on a
pillow, then sat down next to me. I tried to lay out my hair so that it would dry
faster, but it was hard to hold my head up long enough to do so. When Sirius
saw what I was doing, he reached over and supported my neck while I
straightened out my hair.
"Thank you," I said softly as he withdrew his hand.
"It's the least I can do," he replied, lowering his eyes. "I know you don't
have much choice in the matter, but I still feel like I owe you for your
hospitality." I said nothing. Over the past hour he had shown himself to be a far
more gentle and caring person than I had ever imagined him to be. But there was
still a shadow of doubt in my mind, and only one thing could dispel it: an
explanation.
"Sirius." I began, then gathering my courage I went on. "What
happened the night Peter Pettigrew died?"
A/N: A cliffie! Don't worry, if you review I'll post the next chapter soon. I've already written it, so that isn't an issue. Btw, what do you think of the new summary? I changed it per the suggestion of Natalie (thanks! ^_^), but I haven't decided whether I like it or not. Is it too soap-operaish? If you have a better idea, please tell me.
"Thank you, I'd appreciate that." Sirius gave me a warm smile in return
and stood up, brushing off his ragged robes. He picked me up in his arms again,
and after tensing up for a moment I tried to relax. He carried me to the
bathroom, nudging the door open with his foot before entering. I muttered
"Lumos," and the lights flickered on, shining down on the small, blue-tiled
bathroom. He set me on the counter then turned on the faucet, testing the water
with his hand. I started getting nervous: he wasn't expecting me to undress, was
he?
"Um.Mr. Black." I began.
"Sirius," he said, looking at me from over his shoulder and giving me a
reassuring smile.
"Sirius, um, I'd really prefer to keep my clothes on." This was a bit of an
understatement: under no circumstances was I planning to let him bathe me in
the nude. A bit of faint color rose to his cheeks and he averted his eyes.
"I was just planning to run the water over your hair, nothing more," he
said quietly. "If you don't want to get your shirt wet you can just pull down the
neckline a little." I nodded, blushing a little myself now, and proceeded to do so,
pulling down my robes just enough to bare my shoulders. When the water was
warm enough, Sirius turned back to me, lifted me from the counter, and placed
me on the floor.
"Just hang your head over the edge," he instructed, switching the water
flow from the faucet to the shower wand. I composed my legs into a kneeling
position and did as he said, feeling distinctly uncomfortable, mostly because I
felt like I was stretching out my neck for a guillotine. I felt Sirius kneel behind me
and bring his arm over my shoulders. A warm gush of water poured over my
head, reminding me unpleasantly of blood; an association that was reinforced as
I saw that the water streaming from my scalp had a reddish tinge. I shuddered,
and immediately the flow of water moved off my head.
"Is it too cold?" asked Sirius.
"No, it's fine," I replied through a curtain of dripping hair. The water
resumed, then I felt gentle fingers beginning to rub my hair, coaxing the sweat
and dried blood out of the strands.
"Tell me if I hurt you," he murmured, moving to the other side of my
head. After he had washed all he could of the loose hair, he began massaging my
scalp, careful to stay away from the gash. Despite his care, my head hurt with
every touch. I hissed in pain, and the fingers stopped.
"Did that hurt?" Sirius inquired.
"Yes," I said, breathing shallowly, "but I think I'm just going to have to
deal with it if I want to get clean." Sirius' fingers hesitated, then began washing
again, flinching every time I made a sound of pain. When the water finally ran
clear again, he turned off the water and draped a towel over my shoulders.
"There," he said, gathering my hair back and toweling it until it stopped
dripping, "You can get up now." There was a pause, then his hands stilled.
"Sorry," he said quietly.
"It's okay," I replied, somewhat distracted by my aching head. "Can I go
back to the fire now?"
"Certainly," he said, though I heard a note of disappointment in his voice.
Sirius gathered me into his arms once again, but I couldn't help wincing in pain
when my head was jolted. I was startled to see a flicker of frustration and anger
on his face, but it seemed to be focused inwards rather than at me. He carried be
back to the living room and laid me in front of the hearth. He put my head on a
pillow, then sat down next to me. I tried to lay out my hair so that it would dry
faster, but it was hard to hold my head up long enough to do so. When Sirius
saw what I was doing, he reached over and supported my neck while I
straightened out my hair.
"Thank you," I said softly as he withdrew his hand.
"It's the least I can do," he replied, lowering his eyes. "I know you don't
have much choice in the matter, but I still feel like I owe you for your
hospitality." I said nothing. Over the past hour he had shown himself to be a far
more gentle and caring person than I had ever imagined him to be. But there was
still a shadow of doubt in my mind, and only one thing could dispel it: an
explanation.
"Sirius." I began, then gathering my courage I went on. "What
happened the night Peter Pettigrew died?"
A/N: A cliffie! Don't worry, if you review I'll post the next chapter soon. I've already written it, so that isn't an issue. Btw, what do you think of the new summary? I changed it per the suggestion of Natalie (thanks! ^_^), but I haven't decided whether I like it or not. Is it too soap-operaish? If you have a better idea, please tell me.