As always a massive thank you to Ambush99 for betaing this chapter!

Chapter 6

"Sorry Professor," Sirius muttered, when he eventually made it into Professor Binns' class. He looked down, avoiding eye contact with his fellow classmates, especially James. No doubt they'd heard and believed the rumours that had been spun. He never wanted to hurt anyone, least of all the Marauders, but what choice did he have? He watched as various people, including the Marauders, moved their bags onto chairs, preventing him from sitting there. Finding a desk at the back of the class, he dropped his bag and tried to listen. As Professor Binns droned on, his eyelids grew heavy. He pinched himself in an attempt to keep himself awake, but he knew he was fighting a losing battle. With the run in with his cousin, coupled with whatever had happened to him over the Christmas holidays, he was exhausted.

He felt his eyelids become heavy, but he couldn't fall asleep. He was already in so much trouble. Falling asleep would just add to it. And. And he didn't really want to sleep. Because that's where the nightmares were. The visions. The confusion which followed him into his waking moments. His eyelids grew heavier, and he tried to fight it, but he knew he couldn't.

"Drink it," a cold voice said to his right.

Sirius looked down at the Emerald potion. It seemed to be glowing. He watched his hand move towards the potion and pick up the goblet.

"Drink it!" the cold voice demanded.

Sirius looked down at the glowing potion and drank it. Almost instantly, he could feel his insides burning. He wanted to stop. He didn't want to drink this poison but, as he watched his hand fill another goblet and raise it to his mouth, he knew he had no choice. Tears began to stream down his face. Why? Why was this happening to him? His vision swam and grew dark. Now he was surrounded by crawling, pale creatures with dead eyes, trying to grab his legs and drag him down to their dark depths.

"Oi, Black! Lesson's finished."

Sirius woke with a start. Cold sweat ran down his back. He looked around; the classroom was emptying out. "Thanks," he managed to mutter. He could hear a few people laugh and make pointed comments.

"Crazy Black."

"Serves him right. He's completely fucked up."

"They might as well send him to St. Mungo's and leave him there. I don't want him around me."

"St. Mungo's?! Nah, he's best in Azkaban. Might as well save everyone the trouble. He's going there soon enough."

Sirius closed his eyes and tried to bite back the tears. He pulled his thin cloak around his shoulders, as he shivered. He knew why this was happening to him. He deserved it. He had almost turned Remus into a murder. Remus wouldn't have been able to help it. But he. He could. He knew Snape highly suspected Remus was a werewolf. He knew Snape was doing everything in his power to get them expelled. Then, why had he told the greasy-haired git about the knot on the tree? He raked shaking hands through his hair. He would do anything to go back in time and just tell Snape to fuck off. To fuck off and wash his hair. Or fuck off and play with his chemistry set. Or something. But he hadn't. He was fucked up and deserved everything that had happened to him and everything that was going to happen to him.

He closed his eyes again, as he slowly pulled his knees to his chest. Potions, he thought, he had to get to Potions. Unlike Binns, Slughorn would notice if he was late. With great effort he pulled himself to his feet and dragged himself to Potions.

"Black?!"

Sirius slowly turned towards the source of the voice. God, why wouldn't they just leave him alone. Yes, he had fucked up. He didn't need anyone else telling him that. "Yes," he finally managed.

"What are you doing here?" asked Mary Kasischke, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, sounding confused.

"I was on my way to Potions," Sirius replied, avoiding the question she was actually asking.

"I wasn't asking about your sodding timetable. What are you doing here?! We were told you were dead!"

"It was a misunderstanding," Sirius said, looking down at his feet, avoiding eye contact.

"That's not a misunderstanding. A misunderstanding is, I don't know," Mary exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "But that was not a misunderstanding. What the hell happened?!"

"Just stuff, okay."

"Okay, whatever. I really don't know what you're playing at Black but I'm not sure I want you on the team anymore. I'm not sure if the team will want to play with you. Did you stop for one moment to think of the rest of the team? Did you stop to think of anyone apart from yourself?!" Mary spat, her temper rising.

"I'm sorry, okay," Sirius almost sobbed, as he backed up against the wall.

Mary frowned and took a moment to look at her beater. "Sirius are you alright?" she said, slightly changing her tune.

"What?" Sirius replied quickly, becoming confused at Mary's change of tune. "What? Umm, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"That's why I asked."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I need to get to Potions."

Mary nodded, not convinced by Sirius' answer. "Right. Look I don't know about you being on the team. I will ask them but I'm not sure."

"Okay," Sirius replied quietly, as he looked down again. There was no way he could play Quidditch in his current state, but he couldn't very well tell Mary that. She would probably demand he went to the hospital wing or something. Or tell a teacher. All things he could not risk. He couldn't let people find out he was hurt. He couldn't put people in danger. "Okay, well I better go to potions."

"Fine. I will let you know about the team."

"Thanks. I better go," Sirius said awkwardly, as he turned and started to walk slowly towards the dungeons.

Mary nodded, as she watched Sirius make his way slowly down the corridor. She frowned. The whole conversation had been utterly weird and unlike any interaction she had ever had with Sirius. Sirius was usually loud, so full of life. The person she had just spoken with was none of those things. Sirius seemed to be a shell of his former self. A ghost almost. She sighed; it wasn't her job to look after wayward fifth years. It was only a few days back into the term and she already had a mountain of essays. The teachers did know NEWTs were over a year away, right? No, she thought, shaking her head. She really didn't have the time to find out what trouble Sirius had undoubtedly got himself into.

Sirius looked around, as he quietly slipped into the classroom. He breathed a sigh of relief as he noted Slughorn wasn't there yet. He scanned the room, looking for an empty desk. Again, people moved their bags so he couldn't sit next to them. His head dropped as he made his way slowly to the back of the class to the lone desk in the corner. He tried to ignore the whispers. He tried to ignore the looks. He closed his eyes, as he tried to stop his world spinning. He pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders, and bit back a shiver. Why was the classroom so cold, he thought? He heard Slughorn take the register before starting the class.

Sirius squinted at the blackboard, as he tried to make out whatever potion Slughorn had told them to make. His normally perfect eyesight seemed to be worse than James' without his glasses. He sighed as he picked up the knife and started to chop up the Mandrake roots. With his damaged right wrist, he awkwardly attempted to chop them with his left hand, without much success. He closed his eyes for a moment, as pain threatened to consume his body.

Potions, he thought, was going from bad to worse. He had drifted off at the start of the lesson, missed Slughorn's question and couldn't answer. At some point, he had lost points for Gryffindor, for what reason he could not remember, and now he was watching his cauldron melt before his eyes.

"Mr. Black, were you not paying attention when I said a teaspoon of crushed beetles?"

Sirius looked to see a blurry and somewhat angry looking Slughorn standing in front of him. He had remembered reading it and he had intended to follow the instructions, but his hands had been shaking so much, he had dumped the whole pot in. What could he say? He couldn't very well tell the truth - 'I'm sorry Professor, I didn't intend to. It's just I barely slept last night. It feels as though I'm continuously being stabbed, I'm freezing and there's currently two of you'. No, he thought, he had to pretend he did intend it. "I must have missed it," he managed with a slight smile.

"Do you know how dangerous that could be?!" Slughorn practically spat.

Sirius shrugged; the stupid smile still fixed on his face.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, and clean up this mess, Black!" Slughorn growled, before he stalked back to his desk. "The rest of you, good work, and I'll see you after the weekend."

Sirius kept his head down, avoiding eye contact, as he cleared up the melted remains of his cauldron. Something knocked his arm. He felt his breath catch in his throat, as he looked wildly around, searching for the threat.

"Oh, that's really decent of you. There's us mourning you, but you were just getting pissed in the pub. That's what you are continuing to do every night. You would have thought you'd have the decency not to lose Gryffindor any more points, but it's you, so why am I surprised!" James spat, looking down at his former friend.

"James, I'm-" Sirius started.

"Save it Sirius, I'm done with your shit!" James sneered, before, without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the classroom.

Sirius watched his friend storm out of the room, before he sank down on the bench and rested his head on the desk. "I'm sorry, James," he whispered to the empty room. "I don't want to lose Gryffindor any points, really I don't, but I can't help it. I know you hate me but it's better this way. If we're not friends, they might not come after you, because I don't know how much longer I can protect you."

Peter held back for a moment and slipped into the shadow. This was the first time he had properly looked at Sirius since his return. And honestly, he looked terrible. If Sirius was hungover, it was some bloody bad hangover. Sirius was as pale as a ghost. He moved very slowly and deliberately, as though he was in a lot of pain. Peter wanted to reach out, but he was too scared, too confused. Maybe James and Remus would have a better idea. Maybe they could do it together. He quietly slipped out and hurried after James and Remus.

"James! Remus!" Peter called out.

"Yeah," James replied, turning to face his friend.

"Did Sirius look okay to you?"

James made a face. "Wormy, I told you. I'm done with him," he said, but his voice sounded hesitant.

Remus frowned. "I didn't really see him. I was at the front with Jones. Why?"

"I dunno. He just looked, well, like crap."

"He's probably hungover," James replied, as he nervously fiddled with his cloak.

"You don't think it's that, do you Peter?" Remus questioned.

"I don't know, okay. Maybe it's because I don't want to believe he would betray us. Maybe I'm making excuses for him but, I don't know."

"James?" Remus asked.

"Okay," James replied quietly. He looked down for a moment. Why did nothing make sense anymore? Did he owe Sirius anything? "Okay, let's go. He's probably still drunk or something."

Remus and Peter exchanged looks as they followed James back towards the Potions class. "How did he look?" Remus whispered to Peter.

"I don't know but I think he looked really ill and in pain. But I don't know. I don't know what to think about Sirius anymore."

Remus nodded as he continued to follow James down the various corridors towards the potion's classroom. "What are we going to do?"

"Do what?"

"What are we going to do if Sirius is actually sick?"

"I dunno, I guess take him to the hospital wing," James said, as he stepped into the Potions classroom.

"But if he's drunk it might get him in more trouble. They might expel him," Peter quickly added.

"What do you want me to do Pete?! If he fucked up, that's his problem. There is nothing I can do about it. I still don't want him to die," James snapped. He tensed his jaw, wondering what he was going to say to Sirius. The only words he had exchanged with Sirius had been words of anger. But in reality, they had been driven by confusion more than anger. "Sirius?" he called out to the darkened room.

"Sirius?" James called out again, as he scanned the room.

"Lumos," Remus said as he stepped into the room behind James. The room was empty, but could Sirius be hiding somewhere? "Sirius? Mate, it's us, we just want to talk mate."

"And he was here when you left?"

"Yes," Peter replied quietly.

"And you sure he looked ill?"

"Yes, I mean, I think so," Peter replied quietly, looking confused.

James looked away, unable to face his friends right now. What was happening? First, he didn't want anything to do with Sirius, after he had betrayed Remus. Then he had been told Sirius was dead. Then Sirius had reappeared, and he had found out it was all a sick joke. And now this! Was Sirius ill? Had Peter imagined it? Or was it a simple case of Sirius just hungover?

"Where do you think he's gone?" Remus finally managed.

"I don't know," Peter whispered. "James."

James looked at his friends. "I don't know. Do you think he would go to the tower?"

"I don't think so," Remus said, shaking his head. He looked at his shocked friends. "Should we head back to the tower?"

"Maybe I imagined it," Peter said quietly, as they headed back to the tower. "With everything that's happened, maybe it was all an act?"

"Yeah, maybe," James replied in a near whisper.

Ooo

Sirius glanced at his watch; it was time for lunch. He had no intention of going to the Great Hall. He didn't want to deal with stares and whispers, he just wanted to curl up and wish himself into a different life. By the time he'd finished cleaning up his potions mess, he practically crawled back to the broom cupboard. He nibbled on the dry piece of toast, still not trusting his body not to reject anything more adventurous. He could feel his eyelids growing heavy. He tried to fight it, not wanting to visit the land of his nightmares again.

He carefully pulled back his cloak to reveal his bruised and swollen wrist. He looked at it for a moment, too nervous to touch it. Any small movement caused overwhelming pain. Sirius knew he had to do something. He couldn't continue like this. But equally he couldn't go to the hospital wing. He had to deal with this himself. He had to treat himself. There was no way he trusted his limited magic to heal himself. Even when he was healthy, he wouldn't trust himself to heal an injury like this. So, he guessed, a simple splint would have to be enough.

Hesitantly, with a shaky hand, he touched his wrist. He bit his lip, as he tried to not cry out. But he had to do this. The pain would just get worse and then he might pass out. The consequences weren't worth thinking about. He picked up the bandage he had stolen from the Quidditch store and slowly started to wrap his wrist. He took small, careful breaths, as he tried to ride out the pain. He then picked up the ruler he had stolen from Slughorn's office and carefully laid it against the top of his wrist, wincing as he did. As he started to wrap the bandage around the ruler, the pain became overwhelming. He didn't know how much more he could take, but he had to continue. His vision began to darken but he continued. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, he managed to finish it. Sirius took a shaky breath. His vision began to grey, and he didn't fight it.

When he opened his eyes again, the castle seemed dark and quiet. "Lumos," he said weakly. He blinked several times as he tried to focus on his watch. 7 o'clock. Shit, he thought, how the hell had he slept through the afternoon? He had missed Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. Divination he didn't much care for, but he loved Care of Magical Creatures. He ran a tired hand through his dishevelled and limp hair. He wondered how many more points he had lost Gryffindor and how many more detentions he had racked up. He closed his eyes and shivered. He could feel the magic draining from him. He could feel his very life slipping from his body. He wondered how much longer he could go on.

"Expecto patronum," he said weakly. He vaguely watched as the wand jerked and died. He felt his eyes grow heavy again as he felt himself slipping away.