Title: Obsession Confession
Summary: "I wanted to hurt him so badly that he would never forget me, that he would see my face every time he closed his eyes. Like I saw his." Some one muses on Sirius, and their love that's turned into hate. (One-shot)
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue
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Obsession Confession
I watch him from afar. Him, the star of all my fantasies. The poster boy for perfection. The one that doesn't know I exist. He sits amidst his circle of friends in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. It's a hot Saturday afternoon, and every one is out on the grounds or on the pitch with their friends, running around or playing exploding snap or gossiping in a crowd. I look back over to him. He must have just told a joke: they have all started rolling around in the grass, smiles on their faces and tears of mirth in their eyes.
He always flips his hair back whenever he tells a good joke (or makes an impressive insult, or answers a teachers question perfectly even though it was beyond obvious that he hadn't been listening to a word they had been saying), and he doesn't fail to do it this time. He rakes his right hand through his long ebony locks as he shakes his head to the left, exposing his milky-white neck to the golden rays of the sun. Beautiful.
That was the first thing about Sirius that caught my eye all those years ago: his intensity. His contrast. Rosy lips under eyes of the deepest blue, set upon a smooth face the colour of a fine cream, accented with the occasional chocolate freckle. Framed by thick tresses the color of a still night sky. Fire and ice, some times pure, some times tainted. The beauty of it was that you never knew which side you were going to get, and by that time you didn't much care, as long as you had him at all.
I thought about going to join them. Maybe I could catch the last part of the joke? But no, I was some 20 feet away, hidden by the Invisibility cloak that was tightly wrapped around my body (its funny, we usually use the cloak to sneak around the castle at night, and here I am using it in the broad daylight just so Sirius won't see me gawking at him). By the time I would get there the moment would sure to have passed. Perhaps it has already. They seem to have broken into two groups without actually moving. James is entertaining the majority of the sitting crowd with stories about the latest Quidditch match no doubt, judging by the moving of his hands and the play-by-plays that I can hear even at my distance. Sirius has turned to face the person on his right. The person that captured his attention all those years ago. Who's hair he was now pushing behind their ears, who's cheek he was caressing with his long slender fingers, who's hand he was now holding in both of his. The person he was now leaning in towards, to brush his lips against theirs-
I got up, hastily but carefully so that the cloak wouldn't fall off (even though I was more concerned with Sirius seeing me that anyone else), and walked as fast as I could back to the castle. I think I may have walked into a couple of people, knocked a few books out of someone's arms, but I couldn't be bothered to look back or apologize as I sped through the halls, blinded by tears, to the spot I liked to go when I wanted to be alone.
It was near the Slytherin dungeons. The others used to like to hide out there when they were putting a prank into action, but the Slytherins soon caught on. They asked the Bloody Baron to keep watch and alert them when those "Arrogant little Gryffindor berks" were around and up to something, and the others eventually found somewhere else that wasn't so much of a hassle, leaving this spot deserted.
The baron never considered me to be much of a threat on my own, which is why I haven't yet been braded by an angry pack of Slytherins. Yet. I pushed back the empty portrait and climbed inside, closing it behind me.
The tears start to drop as I slid down the wall into a heap on the floor. After all this time it still made me want to punch something every time I saw them together. "You should be used to it by now" James had said one night when I'd confessed my feelings. I had looked at him, at a loss for what to say. Had I been expecting some sort of comfort? Understanding? Maybe, but not from him. The one person that I wanted to comfort me was unattainable, even if he wasn't involved.
And suddenly that made me angry. It made my blood boil, my heart clench, my hands shake. Because Sirius didn't want me, he would never want me. Ever. He was just a useless pretty boy who didn't have enough brains to realize that I was the only one who would love him for forever. Unlike that useless flussy that he was with now.
A scream escaped me as I turned and threw a punch at the wall. I felt the skin on my knuckles shred, but I didn't care. I wanted to hurt something. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to show him what he'd done to me. Shown him the pain he'd made me feel. I wanted to hurt him so badly that he would never forget me, that he would see my face every time he closed his eyes, like I saw his. But he wasn't here, and hurting myself was the next best thing. I punched the wall with my other hand. I kicked it to feel the searing pain in my toes. I threw myself against it. I banged my head into it over and over and over. Then I saw black.
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I woke up sometime later to a blinding headache and blood crusted hands. It took me awhile to realize where I was, and when I did, I had to fight down my rage before it consumed me again. I carefully folded James' cloak and tucked it away inside my robes before I pushed open the portrait and stepped out. A few lingering Slytherins sniggered at my surely awful appearance as I walked off. My watch said 7:30. I had missed dinner, but the thought of going down to the kitchens made me nauseous. I stopped off in a bathroom to clean myself off, before making to agonizingly long trip to Gryffindor tower. Maybe it was only long because I knew what I'd find when I got there, but I pushed that thought away as I gave the password, stepped into the tower, and made my way up to the 7th year boys dorm.
And sure enough, when I opened the door, I was greeted with the now familiar sight of Sirius, Remus, and James in their now familiar positions. Sirius and Remus were tangled together on the beds that they had pushed together at the beginning of the year, fingers laced, eyes locked like they had been earlier on the pitch, pretending that they were listening to James, who was sitting cross-legged on his bed reading an article from "Quidditch Weekly". He stopped reading when I shut the door.
"Pete," he said. "Where've you been? We missed you at dinner."
No you didn't. "Sorry, I got caught up in some stuff" I lied. My gaze flickered, unwillingly, over to Sirius and Remus, who now had his head resting on Sirius' chest, his arm draped across his stomach. Sirius' hand was playing through his hair.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw James trying to give me a sympathetic half-smile, but I didn't let him, I strode over to my bed, took off my shoes, and ushered a quick 'good night' before I closed the hangings. James would get his cloak back later. I put up a silencing spell, then lay back against my pillows, fingering my wand, images of those two still fresh in my mind.
My last thoughts before I slipped into sleep were: "I'll find a way to make him pay. Remus too. They'll pay for what they've done to me." And they did.
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Whew! Got that out of my system! What did you think? Loved it, hated it? I wasn't planning on making a sequel, but companion pieces might be somewhere in the near future, after I tie up some loose ends on my other stories. Drop me a line of you wish! Kisses :)