Chapter 10 - Missed Chances
Thud.
Some people chew their nails when preoccupied with their thoughts. Others twirl a lock of hair around a finger.
Thud. Thud.
Sirius Black bangs his head, against a wall, against the back of his chair, into his fist. Today, his head knocked gently against the wooden bench he sat upon in King's Cross station, not far from the barrier between tracks 9 and 10. It was early; way too early for him to be able to slide through to get to the steam train on Track 9 ¾ . But he'd had no where else to go after waking up in Anders Groot's bed this morning. Waking up so nauseous that he'd barely made it into the bathroom before puking up whatever was left in his stomach of food and alcohol. And a love potion, the sour dregs of their twisted night together.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Shuddering, Sirius tried not to dwell on that nightmare. Better to lock it away in a secret corner of his brain. Don't think about what Groot had done, what his parents...
No! Concentrate on other things. Plan how much to tell James and Peter and Remus.
Thinking of Remus made him think of the bite marks and bruises that marred the skin of his neck and shoulders. He'd tried to heal them, standing naked in Groot's bathroom and not quite recognizing his own shocked visage in the mirror. But, even with his wand, and a decent knowledge of simple healing spells, the marks remained. He'd even tried using glamours to hide them, but to no avail. Maybe this was an additional effect of the love potion he'd unknowingly swallowed.
Just the thought made his mind reel with the remembered sensations of the night before, when he had burned with uncontrollable lust for Groot and they had done everything, used every orifice to… His stomach heaved disturbingly.
How could he tell Remus? What could he tell Remus? How could he look into those wise hazel eyes and spill his guts, and then see the pain of betrayal blossom? Even if none of this was his fault, why should he cause Remus pain, also? How could he confess to the wild, screaming passion he'd felt? That's what disgusted him the most – that he had begged Groot to use him like the whore he now was. His parents' betrayal seemed the lesser evil.
He heard a low, keening whine. It took him a moment to realize the sound came from his own lungs.
He blushed in shame. Couldn't he keep it to himself? Just shut up! Keep it inside.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Yes, that was best. Say as little as possible. He was supposed to have been sick, right? That's what his father had told his friends, once he locked Sirius into the cellar. Yes, that would be his excuse, at least until he had a chance to talk to Headmaster Dumbledore to try and figure out a way to stay at Hogwarts.
In spite of his best efforts, pictures of last night's events kept popping uncontrollably into Sirius' mind. Just like wizard photos, the pictures moved. Unlike photos, his memories came complete with smells and sounds and tastes. Anders' large, overweight bulk thrusting on top of him or the thick, purplish cock throbbing in his face. The sound of his own voice pleading hoarsely to be fucked.
And then this morning seeing Anders clothed in a luxuriously thick dressing gown cheerfully offering to prepare breakfast, as if the two of them had been on a date. Sirius shivered, thinking about his rapid escape into the bathroom. He could still taste the bile from his stomach at the back of his throat.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
His father had sent over Sirius' trunk and owl, probably because he didn't want his house despoiled by the soiled goods of his own son. Sirius had rapidly showered and scrambled into his clothes, frantically digging through his trunk to find a turtleneck sweater with which to hide the marks on his neck. Only once had his hands stilled as a thought occurred to him. Then he dug out his camera. Carefully, he focused on the bite marks, getting several close shots of the imprints of Anders' crooked teeth. He wasn't sure that these would constitute proof of anything, other than that someone had been gnawing on him like he was some sort of toothsome morsel, but, he did it anyway. Once he was clean and clothed, he'd insisted on leaving. Anders had regretfully called him a cab.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Remus Lupin hauled his trunk across the station floor. His parents were on their way to meet up with some old friends visiting from America. They'd dropped him off early at the station. He had told James and Peter, just in case they could join him in his longer-than-usual wait for the Hogwarts train. He had also sent a note to Sirius, but, once again had received a brief and rather contradictory note from Hadar Black, stating that Sirius was too ill to write, but that he'd return to school on the train. Although it was comforting to know that James and Peter had received similar messages, somehow Remus couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.
But, as he neared the barrier between Tracks 9 and 10, he spied a familiar figure sitting on a bench. Sirius' eyes were shut tight, Remus noted. He also took in the obvious pallor and the bluish marks beneath the eyes and a certain hidden tension in the angles of Sirius' body. He didn't look like he'd slept well in a while.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"You need to be more forceful if you want to pound some sense…" The unexpected voice looming over him sent a jolt through Sirius that almost made him leap to Track 11
Remus' casual joking came to an uncertain halt. Sirius' shock and something else, something unexpected and oh, so wrong, made Remus' words die in his lungs. Guilt. An unholy guilt in the gray eyes made Remus stutter to a stop. They stared at each other.
"Sirius? What's wrong? What did you do?"
"Remus!" Sirius exhaled sharply. "God, you startled me!"
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah. No. I'm okay. I mean, I'm better than I was." Sirius clamped his mouth shut, well aware that he sounded somewhere between hopelessly confused and totally insane. "I'm…I don't feel all that great…"
Remus slid onto the bench and slipped an uncertain arm around Sirius' shoulders, gently drawing him close. It was like a lifeline into heaven. "You don't look well."
Sirius didn't say anything. He simply curled into Remus' body, burrowing his face into the werewolf's neck, following the magnetic tug of that slender, strong arm. For the first time in weeks, he felt safe.
"Remus, I really missed-"
"Awww! How sweet!" A cold, sneering voice poured over them from above. With a start, the two Gryffindors glanced up and saw Severus Snape's mocking gaze looking down on them. "It looks like the two poufs missed each other! Poor Siri! Did you miss your Remy?" He slipped two fingers under Sirius' chin, tilting the black-haired boy's face up to look him directly in the eyes.
Remus shot to his feet, one hand clamping down hard on the Slytherin's wrist. His vise-like grip gave him the leverage to push Snape back a few steps. Snape hissed in pain and struggled to pull his hand loose. Remus' eyes glittered with anger and warning. "Keep your hands off him!"
Snape broke free, and with a muttered imprecation, swept away. Sirius squeezed his eyes shut, closing off his vision and shutting down the voice in his brain that said, 'Tell him what happened.'
They hardly had time to sit down together again when they were interrupted by the arrival of different students calling greetings. Sirius tried to ignore everything around him until, sooner than he anticipated, it was time to get on the train.
Once they were in their compartment, Sirius again evaded questions about his vacation, his isolation, his lack of response to their letters. James was particularly pointed in his questioning. Sirius fended him off as long as possible, but James was insistent. "Just how sick were you, that you couldn't even write a line, a simple one-line letter back to me?"
Sirius' only recourse was to play the long-suffering victim. "Sick! I was sick! I could barely lift my head off the pillow! I still feel like I could puke my guts out at any moment, so just shut up and leave me alone!"
It worked. Sirius huddled on a seat, He wrapped his misery around himself and used it as a shield against any more questions. He sat with his eyes closed, resolutely ignoring the low conversation and the muted enthusiasm that his friends shared with each other over their Christmases with their families. The quiet, but cheery atmosphere of the others made him feel even further disconnected with reality. Why did everyone else in the world have perfectly normal holiday celebrations? Just what the hell was wrong with him? What oozing sickness did he have that made his family prefer to keep him shut up in the cellar than have to look him in the face? What made them decide that it made sense to sell him for a shipment of diamonds-
A hand touched his face. "Sirius? What is it?"
He bolted upright, realizing too late that his pain had escaped him in a low moan. His friends hovered over him, their expressions filled with concern. They didn't know. They didn't know how disgusting he was. How depraved, that he could want the attentions of someone like Anders Groot, when he already had someone as incomparably beautiful as Remus. He was scum. His parents were right. He was a worthless, disgusting little toe-rag who could glory in the attentions of a grunting, heaving lump like Groot, with his rubbery, wet lips and his squishy flesh and his thick, quivering cock. The bile rose once more in Sirius' throat as he hurled himself towards the door of the compartment, wrenching it open and careening down the corridor towards the boys' loo. And once there, he retched for long, painful minutes, his body trying to rid itself of the poisons that still lurked in his mind.
Stumbling back to their compartment, Sirius collapsed into a corner. Remus came over and sat next to him.
"Is there anything I can do for you, Paddy?"
"I'm fine, Remus I just need some sleep."
"You're not fine, love," Remus murmured so only Sirius could hear. "Not at all. I can see you're not feeling well, but there's something else bothering you. What is it? Let me help you."
The tender concern in his voice was almost too much for Sirius to bear. How he wanted to curl up in Remus' arms and tell him everything. But, he simply couldn't.
"Please leave me alone, Remus." His tone was harsher than he had meant it to be, but it served its purpose. Remus retreated to the other side of the compartment, shrugging at James' and Peter's raised eyebrows.
Once they finally got to Hogwarts, Sirius fled to their dorm room, rather than go to dinner. The thought of looking at the huge mounds of food typical of a Hogwarts meal sickened him. He pulled on his pajamas and crawled into the cocoon behind the bed hangings. Sleep, however, didn't come. He lay awake, staring at the canopy arching over his head. Was it really only twenty-four hours ago that he had ridden in a taxi with his father, the unknown potion already taking hold of his body?
Another thought rose unbidden into his mind. Did the initial idea come from his father or Groot? Which of them had first proposed using him as a bargaining chip?
It was just as well the darkness limited his vision. Had it been light, he wouldn't have been able to see through his tears.
Sirius didn't sleep.
After tossing and turning all night he got up early on Monday morning and crept quietly towards the bathroom. He wanted to make sure he was showered and dressed before anyone had a chance to see the unwanted marks on his flesh. His stomach still felt off, but that was probably more from hunger than anything else.
Sirius concentrated so hard on quickly toweling off and scrambling into his clothes that he didn't notice someone else had entered the bathroom. Turning slightly, his eyes caught a small movement reflected in the mirror. Remus stood across the room staring at him. Not looking into his face, but focused lower on the parts of him that had just been covered by his shirt.
Sirius felt as if every molecule of oxygen had rushed from the room. He opened his mouth to speak, to say something, anything to wipe that look of betrayed revulsion off Remus' face. But, before he could manage to croak out any words at all, Remus spun around and left.
Breakfast was uncomfortable in the extreme. Remus refused to address Sirius or to even glance in his direction. The tension between the two was so palpable that it seemed everyone at the Gryffindor table was shooting questioning looks at them. James and Peter manfully struggled to keep up the façade that nothing was wrong, but they fooled no one.
The Hall filled with the sound of owls flying in to deliver mail. A bird unknown to Sirius landed the back of his chair. It extended its leg, on which was tied a somewhat lumpy parchment. Sirius unfastened it and wondered how much worse his day was going to get. The owl flew off.
Inside the envelope was a note from Anders Groot and a small, velvet bag. Sirius clutched the bag in his fist and felt several hard pebbles. He knew. He just knew what they were, but he had to look. After carefully easing the drawstrings of the bag open, he quickly dumped its contents into his hand. Diamonds. Three small, perfectly faceted diamonds.
He slipped them back in the bag and slid it deep into a pocket of his robes. He hardly dared to look at the note, but knew he would never be able to ignore it.
'My dear Sirius,
I wished to thank you for a perfectly splendid night. To that end, I've taken the liberty of enclosing several baubles as a token of my appreciation. It's been a long time since I've met such a delightfully exquisite young man. Your beauty is rivaled only by the talents of your hands, your mouth and your tongue. A rare combination, indeed, that one so young and fresh possesses such a sensual knowledge of how to pleasure a partner.
Your father's suggestion to sweeten the bid for my diamonds by adding your presence during the evening lent a certain piquancy to our negotiations. He assured me that you would please me a great deal. He was quite right. And now that I have tasted your charms, I would not be at all averse to including you as a permanent clause in the 'gentlemen's agreements' between your esteemed father and myself. If that is not acceptable to you, I admit I'd settle for the occasional evening together whenever we are both in London.
For now, sweet Sirius, let me once more tender my thanks to you.
Sincerely,
Anders'
This went way beyond sick! Sirius crumpled the parchment and shoved it into his pocket, his heart pounding. So, it was his father who had proposed selling him. Sirius' eyes bore into the table as he tried to quell the absolute rage shaking him to his core. He knew people were staring at him. Except Remus, who was wrapped up in his own anger. The minutes ticked by and no one spoke. Sirius was sure that if he opened his mouth, his words would drown in a scream. He concentrated on breathing. Slow, deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. As he forced his anger back, he knew he had to tell Remus. But, not with all these people around.
Finally, the start time for the first class of the day drew nearer and everyone prepared to leave, except Remus and Sirius, who both sat immobile. Remus stared stonily into space. Sirius, his impassive mask cracking, finally leaned forward and grabbed Remus' arm. "I've got to talk to you. About what happened."
Peter interjected as he hoisted his book bag over his shoulder. "When what happened? Last night? This morning? You two seemed – "
"I know perfectly well what happened." Remus cool, menacing tones ripped beneath Peter's light chatter like the claws of a cat slicing the song from a bird's throat.
"No, you don't." Sirius shook his head, a certain note of panic in his voice. "I didn't want to say anything, but I need to tell you-"
"Why? To make yourself feel better? You don't like wallowing in your own guilt? Is that it? Well, I don't want to hear it!" Remus snapped, lurching to his feet and attracting glances from other students. He leaned over, eyes blazing with anger and hurt. He whispered, "Just say yes or no. Was he good? Did you enjoy yourself?"
'Remus, don't. Please give me a chance to-"
"Shut up!" Remus's spat and turned on his heel. James and Peter hovered uncertainly and Sirius waved them on. He knew they'd try their best to be nice, but he simply couldn't deal with that right now. Instead he headed up towards the Head Table. Dumbledore, for some reason, had not appeared for breakfast. Sirius' desperation mounted.
He approached Professor McGonagall as she strode purposefully towards the door.
"Professor?"
She answered in clipped tones. "What is it, Mr. Black?"
"Ummm. Headmaster Dumbledore. He's not…ummm. Can you tell me where he is?"
A challenging black brow rose. "Why should the Headmaster's whereabouts be any of your concern?"
Sirius shook his head, feeling distress writhe inside him. "Well, I need to see him. To talk about something…" His voice trailed off. "Is he…Can I…" He huffed in frustration. "Do you know when I might be able to make an appointment with him?"
There was an infinitesimal softening to McGonagall's posture. "He's away on a personal matter, but he'll be back by dinner tomorrow." She was surprised by his wince. But, it was gone in a flash.
Sirius nodded. "Thank you, Professor." He turned to go. Something about him disturbed McGonagall. She couldn't place her finger on it, but there was something very off-kilter about her most talented and most exasperating student.
"Mr. Black!" She called after him. Slowly he came back to her.
In a quiet, but much warmer tone she asked, "Is something wrong?"
He seemed to consider the question for a moment and then the impassive façade once more settled over his features. "No, Ma'am. It's nothing urgent. It can wait until the Headmaster returns."
He made to leave once more and this time, she reached out to grasp his arm. "Sirius? I am here to help, as well as teach. What's troubling you?"
A strange, haunted look swept across his face and was gone. "It's nothing, Professor. I better get going or I'll be late for class."
She let him go, but was not at all reassured by his words. She swept past him as he hurriedly gathered his school material. She didn't see the piece of parchment that slipped from his pocket. He didn't notice it either as he hurried down the aisle.
Severus Snape saw it fall. On his way out, he scooped up the note. He read it as he left the Great Hall and he smiled.