The Price of Love
In a way, the beating did succeed in waking him up, but not before the worst thing that could have possibly happened occurred. It had happened a lot his first few days; when he wasn't use to the beatings, he would awake to Sirius knocking him out of bed, so that he could curl up on the floor and wait for the beating to be over.
That night had been one… if not the worst nights he had ever experienced before it had occurred.
He shook all over, succeeding the abuse, probably a mixture of the potion being cut short when doing its work, the thrashing he had just received, and probably most relevant; his dreams. He had been locked inside of one of the worst nightmares he had ever experienced in his life, but it was like it wouldn't end.
He hadn't heard anything from Sirius during the abuse about his screaming like he had expected to, so he must not have screamed out, but he had dreamed no less.
Usually, it was his falling dream, but after he fell, he awoke in screams, after his abuse dream, it eventually ended… that night it hadn't. There had been no end to it all.
It was mostly a blur to him at that point. It had been a swirl of pain and torment, even though there had been no physical pain. It was mostly terror though, that had him in such a state.
No, as he stumbled into the bathroom, and stared with such pain at the mirror, it was the black eye that was his biggest worry.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry tried to wake up. This had to be a dream, right? It wasn't like he hadn't had them before. Dreams that Sirius found out what had happened. The terror was quite equal to the other dreams. Usually it all happened, and he awoke right before the got the response, but this was real. He was going to see the reaction all right.
Quidditch injury his ass! Sirius would have to be blind not to get suspicious if he showed up with a black eye and a half ass story that he had been hit with a bludger while playing quidditch… what, in his sleep? Sirius had put him to bed with his face being perfectly unmarked. How was he to explain?
He couldn't do anything. Wearing a ski mask for a week wouldn't exactly work either.
He didn't know what to do. He couldn't hide in the bathroom for the rest of the week. He couldn't hide there period. He had to go down the stairs to clean up the mess Sirius had made.
He took a deep breath. He knew Sirius wouldn't be awake, but that didn't stop him from running down the stairs like he was being chased.
He discovered the downstairs pretty untouched. Usually Sirius didn't venture down there when Harry was upstairs.
His room was trashed. His compulsive nature made him cringe at the sight of it, but he picked about half of the stuff up off the floor, and gave up halfway through, his hands were shaking so bad.
He wanted nothing more then to hide underneath of his covers, and hug a pillow, so he did.
Sirius would think it odd that he wasn't up by ten O'clock, but he had worse things to deal with.
He could hear the stumbling through the hallways, but he didn't dare breath.
It was all over.
He realized the idea way to late, that he might have been able to buy some concealer at the pharmacy, but he wasn't exactly an expert when it came to make-up.
Sirius must have been shocked to find no coffee percolating in the pot, and that he wasn't up bustling around, but he would probably think it an effect of the sleeping potion he had shoved down his throat.
Half-an-hour later found him still curled in a ball, but now his nervousness had taken him so that he wanted to pace. He couldn't get out of bed though. Sirius couldn't hear any noise. Maybe if he was quite enough, Sirius would ignore him long enough for the swelling to go down in his eye enough so that he could walk around without it being noticed.
Of course, nobody seemed to be on his side right then. A knock on his door alerted him to Sirius's presence outside his room. "Hey! You alive in there?"
"Uh… no." he replied uncertainly. Maybe he should have stayed silent, but then Sirius would have come in.
"Come on! Don't you want to eat lunch before we go to the movies?"
The movies! He had completely forgot! They were supposed to see that new movie out.
"You go without me, Sirius! I'm feeling kind of sick!"
"Sick?" He heard the doorknob turn.
"Uh, don't come in! I'm contagious!"
"Oh, don't worry about it, Harry. Hell, I'm practically immune to AIDS. I haven't been sick since I was five years old."
"Well, you don't want to start now, Sirius… Sirius! NO!" The sheet was yanked over his head.
Harry could feel himself go numb and his body begin to tremble.
"Harry? You all right? You're shaking something awful."
"Uh-I"
"Do you have rings around your eyes… wait, it's just that one… Harry, do you have a black eye?"
He gulped. Here it was. The thing he had worked his entire summer to prevent. Looking at it from this point, it didn't seem worth it. Sirius had found out, as he knew he would, but after waiting for almost a month, and enduring all the pain to get the same effect… he had been stupid to try to cover something like this up.
"Harry? What's wrong with you? Are you alright?" He put his hand on his forehead. "You don't feel warm. You're awfully pale."
His shaking was increasing to the point where he could barely hear over his teeth chattering.
Sirius sat on his bed… "Way to close!" he told himself. Not in a situation like this. He hated people getting to close to him when he was close to having a panic attack… not that it came up much.
"Harry… where… how? You were asleep this entire time, weren't you?"
"Ye- yes."
"What happened then? You couldn't have slept on it wrong, it looks like someone… did this… to you…"
It seemed to Harry as if he heard actually heard the click of everything in Sirius's mind fitting together.
"Oh…oh, God… did I…"
His breathing became erratic. He felt the walls closing in on him, and the door slammed open on its own.
He felt Sirius's arms wrap around his shoulders, but he looked as if he was uncertain of that small motion.
"Tell me where you got that from, Harry." His voice held an unnatural calm… like he was merely asking him if he had finished his homework.
His breathing remained as jagged as it had. Sirius's tone had no effect on his panic. "It wasn't your fault, Sirius! It wasn't! Please!"
Sirius's eyes closed, and looked like he couldn't decided whether to leave the room, or hug him until he couldn't breathe. He didn't have a long way to go now.
"I should have known. I should have known it. The dreams! All the broken shit around the house! My God! Was I blind? Your dreams? They weren't about Cedric, where they?"
"You were drunk… it wasn't your fault." He was barely a whisper now. Whenever Sirius got this excited, it never turned out to be a good thing.
"God, how long has this been going on? How much have I done to you?"
Too late to save face now.
"Since the first night."
"SHIT!" He was pacing now, looking like he was about to tear his hair out.
A stack of papers on his desk went flying, as Sirius took out his distress.
He up righted his desk chair, and sat down, putting his head in his hands, and his arms on top of the table.
Then something happened that he could have never dreamed. He watched with uncertainty as Sirius's shoulders shook, and for a second, he though he was going to turn into the Incredible Hulk or something.
Then he heard it: A strangled sob.
What was happening? Sirius was crying? The same man who spent thirty minutes everyday in the gym, and rode a motorbike, and wore a leather jacket? Sirius never cried. He would never cry…
But there he was… sitting at the desk, his shoulders shaking. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now. He had never been comforted when he cried. No one ever saw him cry, though. No one except for Sirius, at least. And he had hugged him when that had happened.
He patted his shoulder tensely, not sure if he was doing it right. He tried speaking reassuring words. "It's all right, Sirius. It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known."
He heard a wet sniff, and Sirius looked up at him with red eyes, and tears still running down his face. "If you b-believe that, then you must have had too many blows to the h-" he was cut off by another round of sobs.
Giving up on his patting technique, he pulled at Sirius's arm, which came away loosely, due to his weak state, and gave him an awkward hug. He was squatting uncomfortably, but he didn't dare move.
It seemed to work, because he could feel some of Sirius's weight shift his shoulder, making him even more uncomfortable. "I'm so sorry Harry! Oh God, I'm sorry!"
"It's all right, Sirius. Calm down…"
"Calm down…when I've just found out I've been abusing the most important person in my life?" He froze, hearing the words, but continued to rub Sirius's back, though it didn't seem to be having too much of an effect.
"It's all right, Sirius. I forgive you… it doesn't matter."
"It does matter." He stood up. "Harry, if this doesn't bother you then you have something wrong with you!
"But you were-"
"Being drunk isn't an excuse, Harry! I beat you!"
"You would have stopped if you had known what you were doing."
"Why didn't you tell me?" He demanded, looking mad now.
"I didn't want you react like this."
"But I was beating you, Harry! I know we don't talk much about things like this, but this is one of the things that you TELL ME!"
Harry could feel himself shudder and flinch. Of course, because nothing went his way, Sirius noticed, and looked like he wanted to cry again.
"What have I done to you?"
"Sirius… I'm fine, really. I was just alarmed…"
"No, literally… what have I done?"
"You've never broken anything, or anything like that."
"Have I ever…" Sirius looked mortified "I didn't do that… did I?"
"NO! No, you've never done that." Harry said vehemently.
"Let me see." Sirius looked pensive, then angry. "That's another thing I should have realized! You're always wearing clothes like it's winter time. God, I was so fucking clueless!"
"You- You promise not to freak out?"
"No, but I'll try not to…"
He pealed off the sweater he had gone to bed with.
Sirius flinched at the blinding sight of white gauze. "Damn!"
"It isn't as bad as it looks."
"Well I can't see anything."
Harry sighed, and began unwrapping a bandage on his left arm. Sirius removed some of the bandages on his shoulder.
"How did you manage to do half of these yourself?"
"Experience"
"I shouldn't have asked."
Upon removing the dressing on his shoulder, Sirius took in a sharp intake of breath. "I never liked blood."
"You don't have to look at everything, Sirius. Most of it will go away by itself…"
"No, I did this to you… I need to see what I did. How did this one happen?"
He could tell Sirius was being careful with his words. "Y- uh, with a broken bottle."
"I could have slit your throat." Sirius said, his breath coming faster.
"You didn't try, Sirius." he said, trying to be sympathetic.
"But I could have."
"But you didn't."
"What about that one?"
They spent the next fifteen minutes going over bruises and cuts. Multiple times, Sirius hugged him, ignoring the pain it invoked upon him.
"First thing tomorrow, we're going to the hospital, and get you fixed up."
"Hospital? N- no! I don't like doctors."
"Harry, it wasn't an option. They keep patient confidentiality, anyway. We have bigger things to discuss, anyway."
This was the part he was dreading.
"You want me to help you pack?"
Cliffy! AHHHHH! You're going to die from frustration, right? I know, I am to…