Author's Note: This is a response to a challenge by Serised in the hpff forums, to write a story with either the title "Elusive Black" or with said phrase somewhere in the story. So here it is. It's not as Sirius-centric as I thought it would be, but it is…somewhat. Lol…I'm sorry, but I have this weakness where I just tend to gravitate towards Lupin. But hopefully it's still keeping with the requirements of the challenge…so without further ado:
Elusive Black
Sirius Black is one of my best friends. Sort of. I met him, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew during my first year at Hogwarts because we were sorted into the same house and thus became roommates. I was timid on my first night there; I had never had to share a room with anyone before, let alone three other boys. Peter had been shy too, trailing quietly behind Sirius and James as they all entered our dormitory. I remember that moment well: I had been rummaging through my trunk for my schoolbooks, carefully stacking them on the chair by my bed where my neatly folded uniform already hung, waiting to be worn the next day. Then they came tumbling in. They stopped shortly at the sight of me, and almost immediately fell silent, like I had intruded on their merriment.
"James Potter. You'll be Remus Loofin, right?"
James had taken a step forward from his pack, extending a hand out to me. Balancing Standard Book of Spells and Hogwarts, a History under one arm, I had taken his hand and shaken it.
"Lupin, actually. Remus Lupin. Nice to meet you." I had forced a small smile at James and then had turned to look at the boys accompanying him.
They said nothing.
"Er…you're Sirius," I had said, pointing to the taller boy with black hair, and turning to the shorter, pudgier one, I added, "and you're Peter, right?"
James had chuckled. "You actually paid attention during the sorting, did you?"
I had shrugged, suddenly embarrassed at showing my keenness for my new environment so early on, when I didn't even know anyone. I remember feeling a jolt of panic, realizing that if I was going to be teased about paying attention by a boy who didn't even know me, how on earth would he and his friends have reacted if they had actually gotten to know me, and had gotten to know of the monster that I had hidden inside me?
They had teased me, especially Sirius. But Sirius seemed to tease everyone. The only difference with me and everyone else though was that he had extended the hand of friendship to me in the midst of all the joking. Sort of.
As I've already said, Sirius is sort of one of my best friends. We became friends because James and I became friends. Peter and Sirius followed because they were friends with James, and it just seemed to be the easiest thing to do, to be friends with the people I was rooming with. So the four of us were the best of friends, and still are. We call ourselves the marauders now, actually. It's something James came up with when we designed our map of Hogwarts last year. He said we would be like a band of marauders, causing mischief and mayhem and becoming legendary for it. And our secret would be the map. The Marauder's Map, we dubbed it. And it became something of a seal on our friendships. Except the one between Sirius and me.
He's rather elusive. He always has been to everyone. Well, everyone except James. Those two are like brothers, and they probably know each other better than they know themselves. I think part of it is because they have so much in common. They're brave and talented, and they have that winning charisma that seems to be the reason they're so popular in school. Not to mention they each have a knack for causing trouble. Their hearts pulsate to the same playfully swift beat. I think the only major difference between the two is that Sirius is not proud of who he is.
And that's the one thing he and I have in common.
I'll never discuss this with Sirius because he's a man's man—he doesn't like to discuss the depths of relationships neither with friends nor with girlfriends—but it's the glue of our friendship; it's also the partition that keeps us from being closer. We each have our personal space that we don't like having invaded. We each have our walls we hide behind. We have our pasts and our backgrounds that we know of but don't like to focus on. He has a family he's ashamed of. I have a disease I'm ashamed of. Some would say the two are identical. I don't know his family, but I always thought his family couldn't have been as horrible as he made them out to be. But then I wonder if making light of his background is unwise, as Sirius could give the same treatment to my sickness. For a while, actually, I think he did.
Yesterday, I hit one of my best friends. Sirius betrayed me; he sold me out. As a joke, he told Severus Snape that if he was curious about where I went once a month, he could follow me out to the Whomping Willow and find out. Severus followed Sirius's instructions, and the results were disastrous. It was a full moon, and I had lost myself. Severus came to find me, and find me he did. He found me in all my humiliation. But I didn't know about it until the moment was gone. James had rushed in on time to get Severus away from me, but the secret was out. Severus knows what I am now, and for once I'm finding myself blameless.
Sirius led him to me, and I could have destroyed him…and that would have destroyed me. Sirius just didn't get it…I was angry and he couldn't understand why.
"You're always being so sensitive…" he said with a small chuckle when I confronted him.
He laughed at my resentment, at my humiliation. He dismissed it. So I punched him. It was outside in the courtyard, and it was snowing. Half the school had seen it, but for the first time, I found myself not quite caring. I had gone most of my life believing in the brunt I had to bear, being what I was…but Sirius was one of my best friends, and he along with the others had made me believe that friendship was supposed to protect one from those cruel realities.
I punched Sirius, and expected him to fight back. I was expecting to wake up in the hospital wing when he was done with me. A fight was one of those rites of passage, I told myself as I awaited Sirius's reaction. But he didn't fight back. He staggered a little, blood splattering out of his nose, coloring the snow around his feet crimson. But he didn't do anything. Neither did Peter. James pulled me back, muttering something about cooling off. He then led me away from Sirius, who was just standing there staring at the ground with his hands hanging limply at his sides, letting the blood flow freely from his nose as if he weren't even aware of it.
"He didn't think," James said quietly as we walked towards the lake, "he didn't think."
"Does he ever?" I retorted shakily.
"Occasionally…but yesterday he didn't." James replied. And seeming to sense the unsteadiness in my voice, James put an arm around me. We sat by the lake for a few minutes in silence. Peter came and joined us, and as he took a seat next to me, he quietly asked if I was alright. I didn't give him an answer. I don't think he was expecting one.
The three of us sat in silence for a very long time. Peter was probably in wonderment at the situation—he probably thought that I was incapable of showing such a rush of emotions, that Sirius was incapable of being defenseless, and that we were incapable of clashing like that. There's an unexplained innocence in Peter, and while I sometimes worry about how his naivety might hinder him out in the real world, at the moment I was rather glad of it.
James was probably replaying the night's events in his head. It's his way of processing things. He backtracks, searches for details he might have missed at the occurrence of the incident, snaps out of his reverie and makes some declaration about his inferences which may or may not make sense to the rest of us. But he remained quiet that afternoon at the lake.
I can't remember who the first to talk was or what was actually said, but there seemed to be a mutual agreement between Peter and James that Sirius had been out of line, and that I wouldn't be abandoned. They certainly kept to their word. They stayed with me for most of the day and left Sirius alone. I didn't know where he was, or if he was purposely avoiding me, but I didn't see him the rest of the day.
But we're still the best of friends. All of this happened yesterday, and I had been sure that our friendship had been soured for good. He came around this morning though. He was sorry for what he did, or at least he said he was. I couldn't tell if he meant it though. I don't doubt his sincerity because he doesn't seem to care about what he did, but rather because he doesn't seem to understand what he did. He doesn't understand how he hurt me, or to how great a measure he could have further hurt me if I had attacked Severus. And I can't make him—or anyone for that matter—understand that pain. The emotions that stem when humiliation and guilt are ridden together are incommunicable.
I smiled though and said it was alright. He smiled, and hitting me on the back he said lightly, "Getting into a fight with your friend is one those rites of passage, isn't it?"
Still smiling, I shrugged. "I suppose. We're men now, huh?"
"I always thought you and I were the manliest of the bunch. James and Peter are too boyish…they've got that impish look about them."
We laughed, and I felt like a weight was being lifted off me as we talked on in our attempts to make things normal again. I don't like having enemies, especially when they are my best friends. But perhaps Sirius is right; we needed a fight, and now that we've gone through it our friendship has solidified into something stronger.
But as we continue on our walk even now, I think back on his apology. It took about ten seconds. And it took me even less time to forgive. Then there was no further discussion on that matter. There generally never is much room for discussion between us; there generally never is any room for rapport. Sirius doesn't seem to believe in rapport. Not with me, anyway. He generally has an unspoken affinity going with James, but that is it. He's mysterious like that. But I suppose I'm coming to terms with the fact that Sirius Black will always be elusive, as will our friendship.
