Remus didn't leave the house until midnight. He hadn't spoken to Sirius. In fact he didn't even see Sirius, as he had stayed locked in his room for the rest of the day. After Remus had finished packing what he needed and plotted his course of action, he took the time to go downstairs and clear out the sitting room of the decorations he had so painfully put up just a few scant hours before, his own mood fluxing as he realized just how quickly ideas can turn sour. It was a lesson he should have already known well, but Remus had always tried to be hopeful; it was in his nature.
Remus then went into the kitchen and prepared not just food for his own journey, but made sure that there was food prepared for Sirius; he knew that if there wasn't something made already that Sirius wouldn't eat. He's hardly going to eat anyway, Remus silently groused to himself and then decided to do something that would most likely vex Sirius, but he felt was necessary. Going back into the den he picked up a piece of parchment and wrote a quick note to Molly Weasley explaining that he would be away on an assignment and asking if she would mind checking in twice a week or so while he was away. He knew that she wouldn't as most of them had been on an unsaid 'Sirius Watch', with him heading up the operation. Albus had made sure that there were several owls available to them in case it was needed, and Remus used one of them to send the note to Molly. He then decided that one more note needed to be written and he moved back to the desk to write it.
By the time he had finished, having to have written several drafts to get it right, the day was gone and he had to leave. With the note in hand he made his way back to his room and grabbed his things, then moved his way back into the hallway. He paused as he looked at Sirius' door. He walked slowly over to it feeling the waves of hurt and anger coming from the room, for a moment he hesitated and wondered if he was doing the right thing. He brought his hand up to knock on the door thinking that maybe he should actually talk to him first, but he couldn't bring himself to it when he remembered the expression he had last seen on Sirius' face. He let his hand drop and slid the letter under the door, then turned quickly and moved down the stairs. Coward! He silently accused himself, but a part of him didn't care. He needed to get out of that house before anything worse could happen.
Sirius,
I am aware of the fact that there are things that we need to discuss, and yes, I know it is long overdue. As I was on my way to speak to you after your departure earlier today, Albus flooed a message to me; I have been called out on assignment. I must leave immediately. I know that the timing for this is terrible, but you know as I do that what I do for the Order is not just important to the two of us, but also for the safety of those we love. I will not let anymore destruction happen in our lives without doing everything that I can to prevent it.
I am not leaving to get away from you, or to prevent us from working out the things that we so apparently need to. I'm going because this is what I have to do to try and make things right so that you can start to live again.
Sirius, I care for you more than you think I do, you are the closest person to me. To watch you in the depth of your containment is troubling and painful to watch. I feel helpless at times as I sit here day after day watching you become an empty shell of the person that I knew so well. If I can do something that can end this threat, not just to you but to all of us and find a way to do it while capturing Peter to make him pay; then I'll do what it takes. That is why I'm leaving on this assignment, but I worry that you will think I'm leaving you and that Sirius, is not the case at all. I will be back as soon as I can, and I will send you letters when I am able. In the meantime, I ask that you please be patient with me. I am at times oblivious, but my unwillingness to speak has not been one of oblivion; but of not knowing what to say exactly.
In the meantime, please try and take care of yourself. I have food already prepared in the pantry and icebox for you, and Molly should be coming by once or twice a week to make sure that you have been eating and taking care of whatever else you might need. I will try my best to come back quickly.
Until then I am forever your,
Remus
Through the skinny crack of space between the door and floor came a folded sheet of parchment paper whisking across the swath of bare floorboards that stopped when it buttressed against the edge of the tasseled rug next to Sirius' bed.
Sirius' sharp ears detected retreating footsteps following the rustle of paper, and he looked down to zero in on the offending note. He remained where he sat, legs crossed in front of him, with an old notebook he had written in when he was in school opened. During the hours he had been imprisoned in his room after that day's meltdown he had not been idle. On the contrary, Sirius had been a busy man, going through every single drawer, shelf, trunk and hiding place and dragging out every single artifact he could get his hands on. The chamber looked like a hurricane had blown through; clothes and books laid over his desk, armchair, and open trunk. He had a boxful of photographs open at the foot of his bed where miniature versions of himself, Remus, James, Peter, and a host of other friends from yore when they were in the spring of their young lives gallivanted and smiled back at his hollow, shadowed face.
Now in his lap he closed the journal he had been thumbing through with a snap, causing a whoosh of air to move his unkempt hair. The entries sounded, to him, like they had been written by a wholly different person. It caused his heart to hurt while at the same time he found some pearl of comfort in memory, which remained virgin and untainted by the passage of time. It had been these very thoughts he had been rereading that kept the last thread between himself and his sanity intact for all those years while he was fettered and caged on that bleak, cold island where despair and death were the only true murderers.
Inside that book were those old confessional words that chronicled the pranks he instigated with the Marauders, the tale of their self-training toward becoming Animagi after learning Remus' condition, his numerous conquests recounted in graphic and bold detail, secrets he kept while he was growing and changing, and the occasional doodle or couplet scrawled at the corner of a page when he was bored and zoned out during class. He vaguely missed that innocent time, but also drew comfort from knowing that it had once been, and would exist indefinitely on the pages as long as he maintained the constitution to read them.
He had just begun a page headed for July 15, 1985 when the intruding letter made its presence known, bringing with it the amalgamated scents of stress, ink, and regrets.
After watching the paper lie there for a moment, Sirius placed the journal on his nightstand and fluidly slid off the bed to crouch down and pick it up. He tucked his legs underneath of himself and sat back on his heels as he unfurled the letter and began to read, gaze fixed and cold as his eyes scanned back and forth down the scratched page.
Finished, he refolded the note and considered how it would look alongside the other ashes littering the fireplace on the opposite wall. He felt incendiary anger that Molly would be here to fawn over him when all he wanted was to be left alone to his own devices. He resented Remus for making him feel like he was an insolent and helpless infant that needed to be babysat, spoon-fed, and coddled. All I want is to be alone if I have to be here, he thought hatefully, a severe grimace marring his features.
As he stewed on that point further, his wrath flared. He makes me feel like a fucking thumbsucking child! Sirius thought, his hands curling into fists, one of them effectively crumpling Remus' letter. Poor Sirius! Look at how pathetic and lame he is, under house arrest like that! What a pity! We simply must look after him, he worries us all so!
This line of thought caused Sirius to vault up from where he knelt on the floor, in a full blind rage now. He hurled a sound punch at the wall, found that it made him feel better, and repeated it thusly until the skin on his knuckles was raw and red and knicked with splinters. In his other hand the letter remained scrunched up. Breathing hard from the exertion, Sirius finally stopped attacking the wall and examined his injured hand, shaking it to jar his jammed wrist back to functionality. He shoved Remus' letter into the drawer in his night table and slammed it violently, toppling a candlestick in the process. He ignored the clatter when it hit the floor and threw his door open.
The house was silent, dark and brooding as night had fallen long ago. Remus was gone, he knew, and he felt a sick sense of liberation. From nowhere, Sirius felt the unyielding desire to leap for joy. As he let out a resonant whoop of unbridled, crazy elation, the foundations of the old mansion seemed to creak and shake. In the attic, dust from the rafters might've loosened and fallen over old furniture and other belongings stuffed up in storage forever. Downstairs, his mother's portrait began her tirade but, being either cursed or gifted with her lungs, Sirius' insane and sudden ecstatic shouts drowned her out as he traipsed and raced through the house, empty except for the man in his downward spiral into the malignant madness that had been festering and growing since he arrived there.
November 4, 2004
I am hoping that this letter finds you well.
I have been busy the last few days, which is the reason why I haven't contacted you sooner. It seems that the lead that we received is accurate and panning out quite well. I cannot go into it now, as I'm sure you understand. This does mean that I will be gone for a few days more. You are never far from my thoughts, though.
Let Molly know if you need anything and she'll be glad to help you. I'll be home as soon as I can.
Thinking of you.
Always your,
Remus
Shy of a week later, another letter arrived on the talon of a nondescript tawny screech owl. Sirius was in the drawing room staring at the fireplace with a vague, unseeing gaze. He had been there since the day before, doing little more than getting up to relieve himself and poke through the food Remus had carefully left wrapped in the kitchen. Cooped up in the room, he didn't know for whom or what he was waiting, but he remained, not sleeping and moving barely more than what a statue would.
The owl's beak tapping at the window as it flapped extra-hard to hover on a level with the pane jarred Sirius to attention. He snapped his head to the side and spied the bird there. Initially, Sirius thought it was a hallucination. He'd been having those more frequently; the shapes and shadows came to visit him more often with each day he went without feeding himself. Curious, he silently crept over to the window and peered at the owl through the glass for a moment before unlocking it and letting it inside. He tentatively touched the soft feathers on the bird's head while untying the note from its leg. The owl hooted softly, almost purring, and settled its wings against its body so that it could start to preen its feathers. In the nearest armchair, Sirius seated himself and read through the note, expression blank and impassive.
The owl rolled its round yellow eyes over to Sirius and tilted its head to the side, hooting inquisitively.
"Go away," he said to it. "Go away now."
It hopped over to the window and took off as if spooked. Sirius watched it fly away, off into the pale afternoon, and smiled. Still grinning, he read through the letter several more times, chuckling to himself at some secret inside joke that only he understood. His laughter became richer with each reading until he was almost in hysterics, near tears as he wheezed for air in between peals of maniacal giggling. He rocked back and forth, uncontrollable in his insanity. Tears rolled from the corners of his eyes until he suddenly fell forward, spilling onto the floor where he promptly passed out from lack of nourishment and sleep.
Molly Weasley showed up at 12 Grimmauld on the morning of the fifth walking briskly up to the door preparing inwardly for what she thought would be a very tense situation. She was well aware that Sirius was not going to be pleased to see her there, his resentment of having to be 'looked after' was well known; but at the same time it had to be done. She set her jaw in a defensive position getting ready to let him know in no uncertain terms that she was there if he liked it or not. She spoke the password that allowed her access to what was not only the Black Family Manor but also the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. Upon entering she knew that something wasn't right. There was a heavy feel to the air that caused her to have cold tendrils of fear go down her spine. "Sirius?" she called out warily. When there was no answer she felt her stomach turn and her worry started to increase. Oh please don't tell me he's killed himself! her mind panicked as she started to move upstairs to see if maybe he hadn't heard her is all.
She searched the upstairs only to find a very aggressive Buckbeak banging against the bedroom door when she knocked to see if Sirius was in his room. With each moment she feared she would find him dead, or realize that he'd left the house. If that was the case she would have to contact Albus immediately! Molly went downstairs to search when she found Kreacher on the stairs giggling and whispering to the portrait, "Not long now Mistress and he should be gone. The filth will be out of the house again and wees can be alone again, yes just Kreacher and Mistress!" Molly gasped and the wretched creature looked at her and started to giggle throatily and called out in a mocking tone, "Too late…too late the scum is dead!"
Molly ran down the stair pushing him harshly against the wall which started the portrait to start it's tirade about blood traitors being culled, and hurried down into the parlor where she found Sirius face down on the floor. "Oh Merlin!" she cried as she kneeled beside him and touched his neck. His skin was cool but not yet cold and she found what seemed to be a weak pulse. "Oh thank the gods!" she murmured as she rolled him over. She was shocked at his appearance, he was much thinner than when she had last seen him and his hair was matted and dirty. He looked like a mere shadow of himself, and she took her wand out using a spell to move him from off the floor onto the nearby couch. "Oh Sirius, how could you do this to yourself?"
He made no sound and his breathing was shallow. With him being so cold she wanted to get him as warm as possible. She quickly stoked a fire with her wand in the fireplace then ran into the kitchen to see if there was anything in there that might help. For a moment she reached for the fire whiskey and thought better, thinking that perhaps that was the cause for this; instead she was able to find some broth in the ice box and quickly made a bowl of hot soup that she brought to him propping him up to lean on her and started talking to him as she tried to get him to sip some of it. "Now, now Sirius come on lad let's drink some of this up, it's good for you," she said as she held the bowl to his mouth making sure not to spill it on him. "Drink this up and we'll get you on your feet again in no time."
Sirius' eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones before his eyes flew open, firecrackers exploding in blinding knots forming a red streak across his vision. He took a large gulp of air as his pulse spiked back up to normal and he attempted to blink away the stars swirling around his head in a nauseating rollercoaster circuit. A shock of red hair and a pale face advanced and receded as if through the lens of a terrible, kaleidoscopic acid trip, and the air was thick from the stifling odor of chicken broth. He cringed away from the overwhelming smell and discovered that he had somehow migrated to the old moth-eaten couch. How--?
The lip of the bowl followed him as if his chin had been snagged by a lure. Some of the steaming yellow broth tipped over the edge and splashed his lips, making them sting from the salt. "What's going on?" he hissed hoarsely, wincing. He had absolutely nothing of a recollection as to how he came to be in this spot with a splitting migraine and Molly Weasley's not-as-plump presence overpowering him. Molly simply pushed the bowl further against his lips and he forced down some of the hot soup, which immediately parched his tongue and throat. He coughed and retched, but it stayed down.
Pushing the soup away, Sirius wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then rubbed his eyes with the heels of his quivering hands. The cushions on the couch seemed to envelop him; the pillows and their luxuriance hyperboled how lank he was now. He was just as skinny as he was when he was a teen-ager, all razorblade hipbones and slender, long-lined limbs. Sirius blinked his eyes several times and that seemed to allay the colored discs impeding his eyesight, and he finally saw Molly in focus. Over her shoulder, he could see the open window letting in the fading daylight and on the floor the curled parchment from an owl post. Returning his utterly confounded and frightened gaze to her, Sirius' eyebrows drew together into a puzzled expression. He wanted to know what apparently bad scene had occurred, but didn't know what questions to pose.
Molly watched as she saw him open his eyes and tried to move away from the soup, but she was insistent. "Come on now Sirius, drink it up, you need your strength," she said and finally he took a swallow. His coughing and retching caused her to frown as a small sip of soup shouldn't cause this sort of reaction unless he hasn't had any nourishment in a long time. Her lips were in a thin line as she felt a sense of irritation looking at him, not understanding why he was doing this to himself when he had so many that loved and cared for him. It was one of the things about Sirius Black that irked her. "For Merlin's sake, Sirius, how long have you been in this state?" she snapped at him before she could get a hold of her senses. "What would Remus say?"
At the mention of Remus, a harsh grimace passed over Sirius' face. Add to the fact that she was eyeing him with copious disapproval and using a snippy tone, and he quickly became disinclined to be anything but ornery and relcalcitrant as a mule.
He shot Molly a fierce look and growled, his arms crossed close against his body, "Piss off, Molly, I'm not suicidal..." Scowling, Sirius turned away moodily and started biting one of his fingernails. His skin crawled under Molly's stare and without making eye contact, he retorted in a dangerous undertone, "You know very well how long I've been like this." But that wasn't true. He presumed she would take it to mean since he had been in this house again, when in fact it had been much longer.
Sirius let his head fall against the sofa with a sigh and the room ceased to wobble. His stomach, which had heaved from the bit of soup he had downed settled and he felt the fog strangling his senses begin to thin and lift. A small smile curved the line of his mouth as he momentarily closed his eyes and allowed himself to be gradually led back into the real world. A clarity that had left with the rest of the house's summer guests seemed to have returned, and Sirius was not loath to permit it.
He took a deep breath in through his nose and exhaled heartily with an "Ahhhh..." Whether this was actually a glimmer of sanity or just the next plateau in his lunacy Sirius wasn't aware. Behind his closed eyelids, Sirius' turbulent mind eased into torpid repose, careless to Molly or the soup or the letter. Oh, it's such a perfect day, I'm glad I spent it with you...
Very suddenly, Sirius was alert again, his eyes shining with something remotely wild. He began to salivate from the pervasive smell of the soup Molly had in her lap. Sirius looked at the bowl in earnest and asked, "Are you going to have the rest of that?"
Molly's expression turned from disapproving to worry when she watched him on the couch. He's not right, she thought for a moment as he let out a noise of almost contentment his eyes closed on the couch. She told herself to make sure to contact Remus as soon as she could when he surprised her by asking if he could have the soup. The bowl was almost forgotten in her hand and she blinked for a moment in surprise at the request. Why would he ask if I was going to have it when he knows I made it for him? she wondered, but just shook her head no and said, "No, no please you finish it."
She sat and watched him drink the soup down almost gluttonously, but felt better knowing that he was eating. "Would you like me to make you a sandwich as well, Sirius?"
As Sirius gulped down the broth, he gave Molly a terse shake of his head in response to her question.
He used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth and chin after he finished swilling the soup, and sat the empty bowl in his lap. A single bodily shiver swept over him as heat from the crackling fire plus the fortifying boost of actually consuming food hit him all at once and set in. Turning to Molly, he frowned slightly and remembered how highly he scorned her intrusion.
"All right, you've fed the Sirius, I can take care of the rest," he barked sarcastically.
But in reality, he was torn. While he very much detested feeling like he was a hapless, sorry individual by having Molly there to make sure he didn't do anything destructive, at the same time Sirius actually found that he liked having another person with him, even if it wasn't his choice. With this internal split on top of the very dire situation he had created with Remus, Sirius was feeling very precarious in his grip on reality, and when he lost hold... this was where he ended up after the fall: right back where he began, all prickly, selfish obstinance.
Before Molly replied to him, Sirius moved the bowl onto the nearest table and got up from the couch. He was feeling the itch to smoke because he couldn't remember the last time, and so he made his way on newly steady feet over to the mantle where he kept a case of rolling papers and shredded tobacco leaf. Behind him he could detect Molly's eyes on his back, and he turned back to face her without looking at her as he ran the tip of his tongue along the paper and sealed the cigarette. If I told her the truth, would she understand?
Molly didn't say anything when Sirius dismissed her; this was in fact what she had been expecting from the very beginning. Finding him on the floor hadn't been part of the plan, but it seemed that since it had happened that it gave her a bit more of a standing for staying. He could hardly refuse that she shouldn't watch him for at least a small bit of time to make sure that it didn't happen again.
She was about to answer him when he jumped up suddenly and walked to the mantle, his back to her, and she sighed softly as she watched him start to roll a cigarette. "Actually, I'll be spending the night here. Arthur is out doing raids this evening. I didn't feel like being alone at the Burrow this evening, and I knew it was about time for me to come and make some meals for you anyway," she said and felt a twinge of sadness as she watched him light the cigarette as she looked at her old friend taking in his appearance and the fog of dispossession that surrounded him. "I figured you could use the hot meal and the company."
The fact that Arthur was at a raid was true, but she could have easily stayed at the Burrow as there were things to do. Yet, she had made a promise to Remus, and she also knew that if it was her she wouldn't want to stay in this desolate and malignant house by herself either. Sirius needed the company, even if he didn't want to admit to himself. The smell of tobacco started to fill the room causing her nose wrinkled just a tad but doesn't say anything about it. As Sirius turned his face she watched the outline of his face and how drawn and unhappy he looked, her face softened and she said, "Come, Sirius, we can go to the kitchen and you can keep me company."
As Molly spoke, Sirius brought himself to meet her imploring eyes and when he did, felt a corner of the winter in his heart turn into spring. It made him uncomfortable, as he had made himself quite at home in his misery. Yet, this was still Molly, the same person possessed of a fiery compassion that he knew and found the solace of a tender heart within. Even though he was stubborn and difficult, Molly wouldn't give up so easily on him now, as she hadn't back then. Sirius would be wrong to turn away her charity now.
He took a long drag off of his cigarette while his gaze followed Molly as she crossed the room toward the kitchen, and when she reached the doorway he skulked after her in the manner of a kicked puppy. For now, Remus' letter was left alone on the dusty floor.
Sirius seated himself in one of the wooden chairs just to the right of the head of the long mess table that was designed to accommodate the many mouths of the Order of the Phoenix. Molly putzed around at the counter while he smoked in leaden, brooding silence. He wasn't sure what to say to her, but knew that he had to think of something. It was just so hard; and Sirius tasted fear as he realized just how much he wanted somebody to divulge to, but felt frustrated that he couldn't bring himself to verbalize his introspection. As his mind continued to chatter, Sirius felt the space behind his eyes start to throb and tingle from a stress headache; he brought up a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to stave off the pain that made his vision go wonky. Sirius forced himself to cease his line of scattered thought and piped up, "Could you fix me a cup of coffee?"
Molly started in the kitchen by cleaning the counters; she suspected that they had hardly been used since Remus had left. Most likely that was when they had been cleaned last as well, so she pulled out a rag from the first drawer by the sink and using her wand started it to scouring the tops. She had gone to the ice box and was taking stock of what needed to be bought when she heard his request.
"Of course, Sirius," she said and immediately started the coffee thinking that it was good that he was making requests for coffee instead of fire whiskey. She turned to ask if he had any thoughts on supper when she saw him pinching the bridge of his nose in pain. "Headache?" she asked, her face concerned, wondering if it was a hold over from him not eating; suddenly she was glad that she was staying the night to watch over him. "There is some headache potion in the cupboard in the bathroom, let me get it for you."
Sirius nodded his affirmation and accepted both the coffee and medicine without protest. His whole body sagged under the drain of the house and his depressed solitude. Gratefully, Sirius downed the potion and chased it with a swallow of black coffee, which effectively masked the disagreeable taste of the potion. His dark-ringed eyes turned to Molly who watched him, anxiety plain in her posture, with her hands gripping the top of the chair back next to him. "Thank you," he mumbled so quietly that almost he didn't hear himself.
Pervasive silence started to regrow, save for the magically scrubbing cloth swirling around on the counter, but Sirius didn't want it to come back. He was thankful that Molly was here; he wouldn't have felt comfortable if it had been anybody else that wasn't Remus. Not Kingsley or Moody, not Tonks with her infatuation with Remus, certainly not Harry, for a multitude of obvious reasons. While Sirius peered up at her he recalled a fragment of what had been said in the parlor... when Molly asked him how long he had been in this condition. Now or never, he thought, and plucking up the courage to just have out with it before it killed him, Sirius stammered, "Molly, d'you... do you really want to know?" He felt his otherwise deathly pale face pinken somewhat as his expression turned worried, hoping that she would understand the question... and have an answer.
Molly blinked for a moment, and then nodded her head twice before she spoke. "Of course I do, Sirius. We've all been so worried," she said and sat down at the table next to him moving the chair so that she could see him better. "Tell me, Sirius, what is it?"
He shifted in his chair a little, scratched the side of his nose, and leaned back so that the wood creaked slightly from the movement. He could smell Molly's curiosity spiking, and feel her body tense in anticipation of what he was about to confess. Sirius licked his lips and fixed his stare at the wisps of steam curling away from the coffee's glossy, still surface.
Voice quiet but firm, Sirius said, "I've been in love with the same person since I was probably 16 or 17 years old, and he can scarcely look me in the eye anymore."
Molly watched Sirius closely. His face drawn while he stared at the coffee mug, and she knew that what he was about to say was something that was difficult. She stayed quiet but her eyes widened a bit when he spoke. He's talking about Remus! Merlin, I had heard..., but I…I didn't think that it was true. What would Tonks think? A thick silence filled the room and Molly's heart went out to Sirius as she watched his shoulders slump. She reached over and put her hand on his arm. "Remus?" She asked her voice hushed with more than a hint of sadness, "Oh Sirius, I'm sure it can't be that bad, can it?"
Sirius slowly turned his head to look at her, his eyes pools of stark astonishment. "Yes, Remus. And yes, it can be that bad!" His voice started to rise due to the frustration the situation engendered. "Isn't it obvious? Or is this really not all that bad?" he said tremulously while gesturing to his entire corporeal self. Sirius couldn't believe it, but then, Molly was not in his shoes, either.
He pulled his arm away from her tentative touch and started to withdraw into himself again, scowling as to fight back tears. "I shouldn't have said anything," he groused with venom.
Sirius pulled back from her almost immediately and she almost regretted saying anything. "No, Sirius, please don't be that way. It's fine, really. I mean, you need to talk about it and I'm glad you feel like you can with me," she said trying to calm him. "I was just taken by surprise. I mean I had always known you two were close, I wasn't aware…" she trailed off before she could finish the sentence knowing that ending the sentence with 'that Remus was gay?' wasn't going to make things better. "Does Remus know?"
Sirius didn't verbalize his answer, but rather just looked back at Molly with her rosy, kind-hearted face and shook his head as he sighed through his nostrils. He couldn't, or didn't, want to explain the history that caused him so much suffering. It was either saintly or cowardly to spare Molly the knowledge, but whichever it was, Sirius decided to let it lie at that. For now.
Turning back to look at his coffee, Sirius said quietly, "In some tongue-tied and twisted way he does." That's not a lie, he mused in silent afterthought. He took a sip from his cup and wrapped both hands around it in order to coax some warmth back into his icy fingers. His headache had abated and he was feeling grounded again, for the time being.
Things got quiet again as Sirius stuck to his decision to hold back on saying anything further. He detected a faint sliver of disappointment dim Molly's otherwise bright and curious eyes, but held his choice inflexibly. "It's just something he and I have got to work out is all," Sirius said, masking his depression with resigned nonchalance, as if it was not so dire after all. "It's hard to do when he's not around though. Maybe when he gets back.." He nodded and attempted a smile that failed, but plowed onto something new anyway. "There should be something in the stores if you feel up to cooking," Sirius said flatly.
He doesn't know what Remus is doing, Molly realized as she watched Sirius completely shut her out and she held in a sigh knowing that it might tip him off that Remus' mission wasn't just routine. Why wouldn't Remus tell him? She wondered but maybe he knew too that the fact that Remus could be in serious danger was something Sirius didn't need to know at the moment. She herself wasn't sure that Sirius needed to hear it at the moment, especially with the way she had found him earlier. She decided that it would be best to just go with his lead of not speaking. Nodding curtly to Sirius when he mentioned that there was food in the stores she got up silently her mind on what she had just heard and started to do what she had always done in times of heavy thought…cook and clean.
As she started dinner her mind kept working. She was disappointed that Sirius had decided not to elaborate more on what he had spoken of. She had hoped in some small way that maybe she would be able to help him through it, to make it where he could start to live again. With the information that he told her though it only made her have more questions. What exactly was between Remus and Sirius, and should she mention this to Remus? It kept coming up after she had dinner prepared and the two of them sat down to eat. Finally not able to hold her tongue any longer she looked at Sirius and said, "Sirius, I am fully aware that you have decided against talking to me about how you feel about Remus, but I think you would feel better if you did."
Sirius had just taken his first bite when Molly cut in. His appetite vanished instantaneously as he looked at her, his eyes dark and unreadable from across the span of the table.
His silverware hit the wood with a clatter. "Why?" Sirius said, very annoyed. His arms crossed in front of him, he sat back and glared harshly at Molly, who only returned his stare with her jaw set and her expression determined. "I told you more than I should have already."
"Have you, Sirius?" she asked, her tone of voice becoming very demanding, very motherly. "You told me the start of it and then left it there to hang and drift in the wind when it's obviously eating you up inside. You need to talk about it, because right now you can't even take care of yourself," she told him her jaw set. "Sirius, I'm here to help you, not make your life harder. I'm your friend, you can trust me."
Sirius laughed a bitter bark as he grabbed the edge of the table and thrust his chair back, then rose to his feet so that he stood before her at his full height. He looked down at her and snapped, "Piss off! Who do you think you are to demand that of me?" And in the blink of an eye he was off, his mouth spouting a blue streak as the volume of his voice augmented and he started stabbing the air in front of her face with an accusatory finger. "I've got a surprise for you: I'm not one of the children that you can manipulate to your manic, overbearing mothering! I know that's a hard pill to choke down, but no, you will not make me do something I don't want to do!"
His hand shoved his full plate off the table and onto the floor. Sirius blustered out and upstairs, then slammed his door so hard that the candle chandelier in the kitchen shook on its chain.
Molly's face turned a brilliant shade of angry purple when Sirius started to scream at her. His words cut into her as if they were heated knives into butter. He stood up and threw his plate to the ground then left the room, slamming the door so hard that not only did she move back in fear of the chandelier falling on her, but that wretched painting of his Mother started to scream at the top of her lungs.
Molly, having had enough, could no longer hold her tongue. She ran to the door and threw it open. "If you didn't act like a bloody spoiled CHILD I wouldn't have to treat you this way!" she bellowed after him as he stormed up the stairs. "When are you going to grow up Sirius? When are you going to stop being that BLOODY whelp you were at Hogwarts and start being a MAN?" she screamed at him as she heard the door slam upstairs, the noise almost unintelligible by the screaming of the portrait in the hall yelling of blood traitors and filth. "Oh shut up you old Cow!" Molly yelled as she started to try and get the drapes back over the portrait; it took her almost ten minutes to accomplish it. The whole time she wondered why anyone even bothered with Sirius Black. She couldn't help but feel that maybe Albus and Remus were wasting their time; he was lost to them.
By the time she finally got the portrait quieted Molly returned to the kitchen and quickly cleaned up the mess that Sirius had made. She decided then that she would prepare the meals she had promised Remus and then she would go back to the Burrow. Next time I find him on the floor I'll spit on him and kick him in the face! she thought angrily and then felt her own skin heat up knowing all of this ran deeper than just her and Sirius' constant battle. She knew that he was acting out because he was upset with not just his situation in life, but his situation with Remus.
Molly decided that when she got home to the burrow that she might write Remus a letter. The thought of that kept her calm enough to finish what she had started. When the meals were prepared and placed in the ice box, she packed up her stuff and without a word she left the house and apparated back to the Burrow, leaving Sirius up to his own devices.
While Molly was dealing with the portrait and the mess, Sirius was seething in his bedroom, pacing to and fro much like a vicious predator on display behind iron bars, trapped without a key. He delivered a swift kick to his old school trunk, which skidded a few inches from where it was placed against the wall.
Sirius flung himself onto the sofa by his window, his arms crossed tight in front of him and his knees drawn up to his chest. He glared out the window, unable to express his rage anymore. Screaming, crying, and destroying things were of no use now, and now was when he needed an outlet most of all.
Dim lampposts afforded meager light into the room where he brooded. A floor-length mirror on clawed legs caught his reflection as he stayed on his velvet couch. As Sirius looked at himself in silence, silhouetted against the window, a gentle voice rose in his head that said, You don't have to go on this way, Sirius. You know there's a way out.
The voice sounded like it came from somebody whispering in his ear (or did it come from the mirror?), which made Sirius jump slightly, and look around to see if he wasn't alone. He was, and the sweet, calm voice started speaking again. It was like a lullaby, coaxing Sirius into unending, deep dreams. It would be so easy...
Then the voice was gone, just like smoke. Its absence grabbed Sirius' awareness that the house was again silent. Molly had gone, left in a rage to rival his own. Feeling shaken and disturbed, Sirius crept back downstairs and into the kitchen. The room was clean, the candles snuffed out, dishes stacked and put away back into their cabinets. He pulled out the chair at the head of the long table, put his head down, and fell asleep, thinking about how much he was going to miss everyone.
Molly apparated in front of the Burrow and wasted little time in writing Remus; she wanted what had occurred at Grimmauld to be fresh in her mind when she recounted what had transpired. The fact that she found Sirius on the floor passed out was bad enough, but to have him act the way he did was not only disheartening but almost delusional; no, that's not right…it was desperate. Sirius was acting desperate and lost, like a man drowning; and Molly felt that Remus needed to know this as soon as possible.
With quill in hand she paused for a moment and stared at the letter, re-reading what she just wrote, making sure the proper wording was used that had been decided between the two of them in case the letter got intercepted. As she looked over the letter doubt started to fill her veins. Should I send this to him? If Severus' tip was right, he's sure to have his hands full, maybe he doesn't need this added stress? She thought to herself, and then shook her head. No, it's the reason he had me going there to check on him. He needs to know, she silently decided and got up to place the note on the family owl, Errol. She paused for a moment and realized that wouldn't be the wisest idea. She again put on her cloak and left the Burrow to get a non-descript owl to send the letter instead.
Part 2 still to come…