As always, a huge thank you to my wonderful beta Ambush99.

Chapter 4

Sirius looked up, blinking several times as the snow caught in his eyelashes. He pulled his thin, damp cloak closer to his body as he made his way slowly through the snow-covered streets. He slipped and stumbled slightly as his numb feet met uncovered ice. He dipped his head and staggered on. He wondered what lie his parents had spun to explain his absence; what greeting he would receive when he finally made it to the castle. Would it be concern or disdain? His thoughts moved to the latter. He knew whatever his parents had said would have been ill. So lost in his own thoughts, he realised he had not been concentrating on where he was going and found he had wandered way off the path and was now standing in deep snow. He'd probably added at least a mile to his route. He wanted to just drop down into the snowdrift in front of him and fall asleep forever; he had nowhere to go; his parents had disowned him, and his friends hated him. But he couldn't. He needed to go on for his brother and friends. He knew war was coming and it was closer than most thought. He had defended them, as he would until his final breath.

"Sirius Black, as I live and breathe. Returned from the dead?"

"What?" Sirius managed in a hoarse voice.

"Don't play dumb with me," Filch growled as he reached forward and roughly grabbed Sirius, pulling him into the castle. "Thought you would play the old 'I'm dead' card so you could have a few extra days drinking?"

"I," Sirius started, but words failed him after that. The warm air of the castle hit him, causing him to stumble slightly as he became light-headed.

"Four days late and drunk, oh the headmaster will have a field day with you!" Filch practically sang. "Maybe he'll let me use the whips, my dear," he said, looking lovingly at his ragged, lamp-eyed cat Mrs Norris. "Or maybe he'll let me hang you in the dungeons with my chains!"

"Bu, but," Sirius stammered, utterly bewildered. He couldn't remember getting to the pub. He couldn't remember drinking at the pub, save the small sip of beer he'd had. His last strong memory had been just before Christmas Day. After that it was a series of confused and terrifying fragments before it fell into nothingness. He couldn't have been in the pub for that long. As he half stumbled, was half dragged by Filch, across the empty great hall, he attempted to make sense of things. Filch said he was four days late which meant it was …, he struggled for a date but found none. What day was the first day of term? Again, he drew another blank.

"Headmaster," Flich said in an oily voice. "I found a student out of bounds, returning from the pub."

"Who?"

Sirius felt himself being thrown forward. He staggered, just managing to stay on his feet. He swayed a little and closed his eyes as the room span around him. He wondered what he must look like.

"Mr. Black?"

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest and looked wildly around. He leant against the desk, as his world tilted violently.

He could hear the cold, hard voice in his ear, feel the hot breath against his face, smell the stale alcohol and cigars.

"Tell anyone about this and I'll hurt Regulus. He won't survive long, he's a sensitive little boy. You wouldn't want your brother ending up like those blood traitors, the Abbots. So broken they can't even recognise their own blood."

Sirius closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, as the fear threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn't break. He had to stay strong for his little brother. They may have grown distant, they may barely speak, but Regulus was still his baby brother.

"Mr. Black, I'm waiting," Dumbledore said impatiently.

Sirius cocked his head to one side. He knew what he had to do. Filch thought he was staggering back from the pub after a four-day bender. The way he was standing and swaying, he probably appeared drunk. It wouldn't take a lot of acting to convince them he was. It had to work; he didn't have the energy to do much else. "Thought I'd have a couple at the Hog's Head before school started," he said, slurring his words for good measure. "Must have lost track of time."

"Mr. Black, you are four days late!"

"Oops," Sirius replied, adding a lop-sided smile.

"I don't think you realise how serious this is. Especially after what happened at the end of last term!"

Sirius forced himself to think of something else, anything so he wouldn't convey any emotion. History of Magic, he thought to himself. A familiar glazed-eyed expression washed over his face. "Oh well," he managed to reply, still smiling.

"Then there is that rumour your brother told your friends."

Sirius' throat tightened. What had they said? He couldn't even remember leaving Grimmauld Place. "Oh?"

"Your brother told them you were dead!"

Sirius bit the inside of his mouth, not caring if he caused himself any more pain. He couldn't tell them what he could only vaguely remember.

"Maybe I won't use a wand. Maybe I should hurt him like the muggles you so love. He's not built like you. His bones would probably snap like that!" the cold, hard voice said as he clicked his fingers.

"He hears things," Sirius replied, slightly slumping against the desk for good measure. "You know what these kids are like."

"I am honestly at a loss of what to do with you, Mr. Black," Dumbledore said in disbelief.

"I have a good mind to expel you."

Sirius' throat tightened again. No, no that couldn't happen. He had no idea how he was going to get through the next two and a half years of school, but he couldn't be expelled. Maybe he could leave after his OWLs, but he had to protect them. He couldn't let them hurt his brother and friends. "Look Professor, I may have got a teensy bit carried away, but you can forgive that, can't you? You know what it's like to be young."

"Mr. Black, this is not a laughing matter but, as it happened off school grounds, I guess I can hand it over to your Head of House."

"Of course," Sirius said lightly, broadening his smile. McGonagall, he thought; apart from James' mum, there was no witch he respected more. It was hard to lie to Dumbledore, but for the sake of his brother and friends he had to. To disappoint McGonagall was going to break him, but what choice did he have?

"Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore addressed the strict-looking witch. "I've just been dealing with Mr. Black. As the incident happened off school grounds, I'll leave it up to you to deal with."

Sirius struggled not to look away when McGonagall looked him up and down. He could feel her disappointment, he could feel the shame, but he could not show it. He had to act cocky and drunk for his plan to work. To keep them all safe. "Hi Minnie," he said playfully.

"Mr. Black, come with me!"

Sirius managed to nod and trailed Professor McGonagall through the empty corridors. Every part of his body screamed as he tried to keep up with her long, hurried strides. But he couldn't. He slumped against a wall for a moment, as he tried to will his body forward.

"Come on Mr. Black, I don't have all night."

"Yes Professor," Sirius managed, as he pushed himself off the wall and continued his unsteady journey towards her office.

"Mr. Black. Explain yourself!" Professor McGonagall said, in a cold voice.

"Well," Sirius started, as he drew a careful breath, forcing himself not to cry out as his damaged ribs protested. "As I was explaining to the good Headmaster, I wanted a couple of drinks before I headed back to school and I got a little bit carried away, that's all. I'm sorry."

"Mr. Black, I honestly don't know what to do with you. This could be the straw that breaks the camel's back. This, on top of what you did at the end of the last term, well…" she paused and inhaled sharply, her nostrils flaring. "Then there is that lie you got your brother to spin. Did you even think of anyone else apart from yourself?"

"Minnie…" Sirius started. He grinned and leant against the desk again, although this time it wasn't to add layers to his act, he needed to. He needed to close down this discussion as quickly as he could before he passed out. If he did, then they would know. He knew he wasn't drunk, or in any case it didn't feel like any of the times he had been drunk in the past. But he knew if he passed out, he would be taken to the hospital wing and they would see the injuries and he couldn't let that happen.

"Do not call me that, Mr. Black! I don't think you understand the trouble you are in right now. Did you even stop to consider how it would affect James and Peter, not to mention Remus!"

His friends, he thought, the same friends who hated his guts, but the very same he was fighting tooth and nail for. And Remus, he thought sadly. He dug his nails into the palm of his hand, and he fought the tide of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. Remus, one of his best friends. A kind, loyal, and so misunderstood person, yet the same person he had betrayed.

"What about that half-blood friend of his?" a higher pitched, but equally as cold, voice joined the conversation. Sirius tried not to flinch as she ran her wand down his cheek.

"How about we sell him to the Dark Lord? He's always looking for worthless people to experiment on."

"Look Professor, I am sorry," Sirius said, straightening up. He closed his eyes for a moment as the world spun around him again. "I screwed up."

Professor McGonagall watched the wayward student for a moment. The pale face. Beads of sweat on his forehead. The unsteadiness. Was this purely down to drinking or was there something more sinister at play? Why would Sirius' brother believe he was dead? "Mr. Black, are you sure there isn't something you want to discuss?"

"No Professor," Sirius said, his strength fading.

Professor McGonagall carefully eyed Sirius for a moment. Dumbledore said Sirius was drunk, but now she wasn't quite sure. But then again, Dumbledore would have had a reason to say Sirius was drunk. It just didn't sit right with her. "Mr. Black." She stopped for a moment and took a breath, before continuing in a softer voice. "Sirius, are you sure there is nothing you want to talk about?"

"No," Sirius replied, shaking his head, feeling increasingly more uncomfortable the longer he stood. "Nothing at all, Minnie."

McGonagall sighed. "Where's your wand?"

"I lost it," Sirius said, looking down.

"I would've expected more from you, but now," McGonagall sighed. She knew Sirius could be a little wild at times, sometimes reckless, but he had never crossed the line until the end of last term. Now this. Something just didn't sit right with her, but Sirius wasn't being forthcoming with information right now, and it didn't look like she was likely to get anything out of him tonight.

"Well now, Mr. Black, I don't know what to expect. I suppose you can pick one from the school supply."

"Thank you," Sirius said meekly. He leant heavily against the desk. Come on Sirius, he thought to himself, you need to act drunk. Sure, a bit remorseful, but you need to act more drunk than you are. "Minnie, will it have sparkles on it?"

"Mr. Black, just get out of my sight," Professor McGonagall said, handing Sirius a random wand from the assortment of old wands. "You'll serve your first detention tomorrow night with Filch. When I'm back from my conference, you'll serve them with me. You'll

have one every night until I see fit."

"I look forward to it, Minnie," Sirius managed with a raised eyebrow.

"Get out of my sight, Mr. Black," Professor McGonagall said tiredly.

Ooo

The first few days of term had passed in a blur for James. He walked between classes, wrote notes, sat in the common room attempting essays, all with no enthusiasm. All the time, he felt he was just operating to get through the days. He knew it was an important year, with OWLs just a few months away. He just struggled to find the motivation to care.

"How the hell have you managed to finish your potions essay?!"

James looked up, and then down at the two rolls of parchment he had no idea he had written.

"I, I don't know," he said with a shrug. "But if I don't remember writing it, I doubt it's any good."

"Do you want me to have a look?" Remus offered.

"Thanks," James replied. He looked down again at the table and started to pick the candlewax off it. He tried to block out the noise, but it was becoming impossible. He felt as if he was suffocating. "I've got to go!"

"James!" Remus exclaimed. "It's out of hours. You'll get a detention."

"I won't get caught," James said, over his shoulder, not stopping for a response or a vote of approval from his friends. He just needed to get out. Throwing himself through the portrait hole, he leant against the wall and tried to collect himself. The trouble was, he just didn't know what to think these days. Everything was so confusing. Everything was so raw. Was he sad Sirius was dead or was he happy? And if he was happy, what kind of sick bastard was he? He took a shaky breath, turned on his heel, and headed away from the Gryinffdor tower.

Sirius managed to stagger into the corridor. He slumped against a wall and closed his eyes, as he felt the energy drain out of him. The act, or whatever he had just put on in there, had drained him more than he had thought. Now he was going to have to face his former friends. He didn't think he had the strength to do that. Would they notice if he crept into the dorm? Pete probably wouldn't; he was an incredibly heavy sleeper. Remus, well, he might. But James? Yeah, James would.

"Sirius?"

Sirius turned slowly, to come face to face with his former best friend. How did he act? It wasn't going to be as easy to play the drunk card as he had with the professors, not after the lie his parents had forced his brother to spin. "James."

"What? I don't understand. What's happening?" James stammered, feeling utterly bewildered. What the hell was happening? Sirius was dead. Was this a ghost? Was it going to hurt him?

Sirius had to think of them. If that meant he had to forsake their friendship, then it had to be. He had to keep them safe. He knew they wouldn't hesitate to carry their threats out.

"What about that dirty blood traitor friend of his? Potter," the higher pitched voice growled. She raised her wand forcing Sirius to stand, slamming him against the wall a couple of times for good measure. "Oh, I see we are learning," she said, smiling as she noted a flicker of pain cross the boy's face. "How about we chop the Potter boy up into small pieces and send him back to his precious parents?"

"I'm sorry, James, I'm only doing this for your own good. I don't want them to hurt you or your wonderful parents," Sirius thought desperately. He fixed a smile, cocked his head to one side and casually leant against the wall. "Well," he started elaborately.

"Oh my god, you're pissed! I can't believe it!" James exclaimed, slamming Sirius against a wall. "You utter, fucking bastard!"

"I'm not, James," Sirius thought, "but you have to believe it. Please believe it. If we are no longer associated, they might leave you alone. I'll do anything to protect you." He forced himself to concentrate on something else, trying to distract himself from the pain as the rough castle wall dug into his back. "I may have had a couple of teeny pints," he finally managed.

"Just fuck off and leave me the hell alone. I thought I knew you, Black. I thought you were different to your family but you're not. You are just the same, in fact I think you are worse than they are. Just fuck off out of my life," James yelled, roughly letting go of Sirius as though he'd touched something poisonous. "Just fuck off, you foul, sick bastard."

Sirius waited until James had disappeared down the corridor before he collapsed against the wall. He drew his knees up to his chest and bit back a sob. "I'm sorry, James," he whispered. "But it's the only way I can keep you and your family safe." He sat there for a moment, alone in the darkness. He had no one. If he joined Voldemort he would at least be associated with a group, but he couldn't. Voldemort and his followers' ideals disgusted him. He'd rather be alone for the rest of his life than join Voldemort.

He didn't know how long he had sat there, when he heard movement further down the corridor. He couldn't be caught out of the tower at this hour, not when he had been caught 'drunk' and arriving four days late. Plus, he didn't want to be marched back to the Gryffindor tower. He knew he wouldn't be welcome, nor did he want to inflict himself on them. Using the wall for support, he pulled himself upright and staggered away from the movement. Spying an old broom cupboard, he slipped inside. He closed the door, fighting the building panic that threatened to consume him.

"Well, what should we do now?" The deeper, hard voice spat, a cold smile playing on his lips. He twirled Sirius' wand between his fingers. "Where you're going you won't be needing this," he laughed, as he took the wand between his hands and snapped it in two, discarding the two pieces to one side. "Now get in!"

Sirius looked down at his trunk, then at the hole he had been forced to dig. He had been hoping his assumption had been wrong but, looking down at his sweaty and earth-stained hands, he realised he had always known their endgame. He was going to die. He had imagined his death many a time, but not once had he imagined he was going to be buried alive. He continued to look down, but he couldn't move. Tears now streamed down his sweaty and gaunt face. He didn't want to die. "Please mother," he pleaded. "Please, I'll do anything. Please, I don't want to die. Don't do this. Please don't. I'll be good."

"Imperio," said the cold voice, pointing his wand at Sirius.

He felt a floating sensation wash over him, as though every thought and fear had been wiped from his mind. He was vaguely aware of climbing into his trunk. He knew he should fight it, but he was too tired. His body was too tired and broken. His mind was too tired from dealing with the constant fear.

"Your wand was especially selected for you. An heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. But you dishonoured the name of Black, like you dishonoured the wand," the voice growled. "Colloportus," he said with a flick of the wand.

Sirius' world grew dark, as the heavy lid of his trunk slammed closed. He buried his head in his knees as he heard the locks click. He heard the heavy, wet earth hit the lid. So, they were really going through with it. They were going to bury him alive.

He looked wildly around, his tired eyes struggling to adjust to the gloom. "Lumos," he muttered, flicking the borrowed wand. The tip briefly glowed, before it flickered and went out altogether. He pulled his knees up to his chest and gently sobbed, as his nightmares surrounded him.