Disclaimer I do not qwn any of the Harry Potter characters or the world it self. The wonderful Jo Rowling does.
Summary: After the harmless joke that was played, friendships are broken. Sirius Black is placed on an emotional journey where he discoveries more about himself and faces the obstacles of his families prejudice views and contemplating his own mentality. He encounters the true tests of friendship and redemption.
Rating: is PG-13 Since I don't believe in this commi bullshit that FFnet is doing by changing the genre we were used to this story is PG-13.
A/N: This my second fanfic, please Review and tell me what you think. : )
The Black Chronicles
Chapter 1
"Melancholy"
The snow gently dropped, adding it's own uneven tints of scattered white on the already white blanket ground. Cool breezes blew unmercifully to any bystanders that stood long enough in the snow. Just above the grounds in the Tower window, sat a boy no more than sixteen planted on the windowsill watching. His leg dangled freely over the edge, as his right arm was propped up on his right leg. He was dressed in his Hogwarts trousers, and white shirttails that had now creased from this long hour positioning. His black hair fell scattered down in his handsome face, small snow flakes had made their nest in it, his jaw set out impassive his lips puffed out just a bit, they were a few tints of it's usual peach pink color off. His position held the mastery image of a bored, tired, reckless young man having nothing better to do but watch the scenery of winter change. However his eyes held the expression of an inner battle going on, one he always seemed to engage in at passing time.
"You're going to catch your Death Black, if you don't close that window" Snapped a sharp voice that was filled with disapproval concealing the concern. He didn't budge, he didn't care, and he just gracefully disregarded the remark and continued with his gazing. Drumming his fingers ever so lightly on the sill with his left hand that remained free, he continued gazing out with a transfixed expression; an expression of a young man grasping something, of almost triumph, almost having won the battle. The drumming having ended, now his fingers nails dung in the sill, chipping the long ago paint turning white as his other hand was fisted tightly the knuckles white.
"Yeah Potter, he's over there on the windowsill again" the same snappish voice spoke, he ignored it, or he didn't hear it, so lost in his thoughts his eyes determine with flaming passion. He didn't even hear the quiet feet right behind him, the faint stutter of the voice arguing between saying something or staying quiet.
"Just give him this, dinner is over with down the Great Hall," the voice enjoined with a slight coldness in his tone.
"Sure thing Potter, but what in the mighty heavens is going on? It's been a month straight now, silent musing on the window sill and closed discussion between you and Lupin and Pettigrew against Black," the voice questioned failing to conceal his slight worry.
"Okay fine Potter, but what ever it is better be mended soon," the snappish voice answered after a brief pause. A pair of footsteps faded away. He continued to gaze out far when a hand touched his shoulder shaking him.
"Come on Black" He jerked away his shoulder from the grasp.
"Now listen here, I don't know what in the bloody hell has been going on but your friend Potter here brought you a plate of food since you've been missing dinner as of late" the voice of the older male responded with hints of irritation. He slowly unclench his hand from the wooden panel, merely glancing down out for a brief second, he could see his nails have made a firm mark in the wood, his nails had crusted blood, more like frozen blood from the digging.
He turned his head and his whole body slowly towards the inside of the common room. In front of him stood an older student, golden hair with brilliant dazzling blue eyes that held the most irritation in the moment with the mixture of worry. His jaw line contracted pure strictness, his eyes and body motion expressing the same. His body was in shape holding the appearance even through his clothes of fitness. Just on his chest was pinned a badge that gleamed, the words Headboy carved into it. .
"Good heavens! You're practically frozen" he exclaimed his eyes widening with some shock scanning him up and down with his eyes. His cheeks were paled, his hair filled with snowflakes as if he'd been taking a walk in the snow, his lips puffy with tints of blue in them.
Sirius just starred briefly. That wasn't so much of a shock to himself, he couldn't help thinking brilliant observational skills, attaching a present yawn to that after as he shifted on the windowsill his back dangerously exposed to the outside.
"Well off the sill and close that bloody window!" he snapped angrily his brow furring furiously
"It's December if you haven't noticed, and the rest here are trying to study in the warmth" he glared gesturing to some of the remaining students that sat in the couches around the fireplace and the others that sat in the chairs by the tables with propped books open not glancing at them at once but prating away merrily. There were all kinds of years mixed in this crowd.
He got off the sill slowly first before shooting the Head boy a venomous glare and shut the window latch with voluminous snap. He turned to leave, not having any remarks to shoot at all but seeking another place of solitude.
"Don't forget your plate Black," the Head boy snapped once more.
"Keep it, if it'll shut your bloody mouth Walters" He responded venomously making his way through the crowd of students. Keeping his head as he walked through like he usually did, paying no mind to some of the whispering he knew of him and the loving adoring glances some first years sent. He didn't care, he just didn't notice.
He walked around the corner, for the stairs before turning his eyes wondering over to the three figures that sat among each other in an isolated corner. One of them had a book propped open in front of him asking questions, his soft brown eyes looking encouragingly to the blond plum looking boy that sat in front of him stuttering unsure answers, the other boy next to him slouched ruffling his disheveled black hair as he shot glances across the room to a red head that sat among her fellow sixth year dorm mates chatting.
He stopped just behind the stairs taking one step at a time, sighing silently to himself as he felt a short stab on the inside. It had been a month now since the incident, since his own stupidity caused him the friendship of his best mates. He loathed it, abhorred himself for this, for his idiocy. Why did I do it! He questioned himself angrily as he stepped into the dorm and slammed the door shut.
Why? He questioned himself again, the same question he asked, and answered. The same answer he spent hours ruminating in his own solitude for the past month now. The answer was simple, he had let Snape get to him, get to him to the point where his rational thought subsided and his irrationality stupidity sunk. He allowed himself to come to the point where he found amusing, charming little fun safe. But no that wasn't it, he thought to himself as he kicked his shoes off quietly the whole time having changed into his pajama bottoms and shirt and into his bed pulling the curtains.
He lay on his bed starring outside at the sky at the stars. He knew why he did it. Provocation and anger were only two reasons that were rational and part of his true reason. He wanted the slimy git to get what he deserved even it did mean death. It sounded even more sickening to him now.
He shifted to his side. And he used his best mates weakness to his own advantage. His best mate would have had the blood of his foe on his hands, on his own hands. The death of the one person he hated, it would have been the end of Remus.
He hadn't even thought of it, it never hit him how this little prank this little joke would only lead to the destruction of his own friend's life. The life that he had worked so hard to create, his image, the soft-spoken intelligent lad that had his humorous side but always remained nice. The side that almost everyone loved the boy that always wasn't too afraid to help anyone in need at all. The boy that had even taken a dive for him once had trusted in him and his other mates the secret, (after of course they figured it out) which he buried deep inside. The curse that he carried with him and found that he would be shunned by society by the prejudices that his curse held. Because of the simply slightly true stereotype his curse had in this community. He would have been the downfall of all this. He would have been his downfall, the one that would have caused the death of his own friend. He would have been. If it weren't for his boasting about it after to James he would have been. If it weren't for James own personal risk, his own sharp intellect to realize the danger of this he would have been.
"Bloody sodding hell," he muttered as he heaved a deep sigh.
"It's all my sodding fault". He wasn't sure what he was going to do, he hated this, and he hated not being with his friends, having wronged them all, all bloody three of them. It pained him to think of it. Would they ever forgive him? He laughed suddenly a bark like laughter that reverberated in the room in an eerie way. As soon as pigs learn to play a game a quiditch maybe then.
He sighed half groaning. He closed his eyes, his stomach grumbling. He hated thinking about this ruminating his thoughts his actions, wishing he could turn back time and stop himself from doing such a idiot thing. It was useless, he couldn't go back and fix his mistake, and ruminating it only made him feel more like intorreable stupid prick.
It already had been a month since they all talked, since they all laughed. More like a month since he found himself in mirth, he knew they were carrying on fine without him so far. And it pained him that they did. It pained him that he cared so much that he couldn't master his emotions like he did when he was at home for the holidays. But there's a difference with that he thought to himself big bloody difference. He loathed his family, really had no feelings of care love, compassion to any of them except for Andromedea and his uncle. Lucky sods got away when they could. He thought bitterly. It was different; he cared about James, Remus and Peter. He held a brotherly love for them, as he knew they once did for him. And now that was done with it over with, had.
He continued thinking his own thoughts until sleep finally be took him into his even more unpleasant dreams.
James stood right before him tall; his hazel eyes blazing with unshed anger, shaking just a bit.
"What in bloody Merlin were you thinking?" He asked him his own voice shaking with anger.
"It was just joke to scare Snivellus, nothing really" he responded in a cold callous tone. He really didn't see what was such a big deal.
"A joke that could of caused two students lives not to mention the downfall of Dumbledore himself" James responded his voice raising his eyes blazing.
Sirius just starred at him for a moment unsure what he meant until realization dawned him slowly.
"Didn't think did you!" James asked not waiting for a response he went on.
"You're indisputable Black! Reckless! Did it ever hit you what Remus might be feeling? How this would affect him!"
"I—" he remained speechless for the first time in his life.
"They murder people like Remus everyday just because they are what they are, everyday" he said in a cold tone controlling the anger in his voice now.
"But you didn't think of that! Not even Dumbledore could protect Remus from what could have happened! He would have the Minister flying up his own Robes, probably even take him away from Hogwarts for admitting Remus to begin with" he said shaking his head in disbelief.
"I am Sorry!" Sirius said loudly after having frozen, processing in his mind what could have actually happened, what he could of caused all because of his sheer anger and his need for a laugh.
"You shouldn't be apologizing to me, save for Remus" James answered him coldly as he turned his back his arms crossed. He took a few steps forward over to Peter who for the whole time sat in the chair grave watching the argument, paling. He took a seat next to him sighing, holding his head up. As Sirius just remained there standing, shocked, disgusted, sickened by himself.
He stood there, watching James and Peter that peacefully among each other glancing at the door of the infirmary. The three of the stayed there in silence, waiting for the moment where Madame Pomfrey would come out and tell them that Remus was alright. The moment when he would have to go in and apologize to Remus. The moment he knew would ruined one friendship forever.