The Comfort of Knowledge, Chapter 8
The pain in his head was unrelenting.
The dark-haired boy groaned as he came to—the cold, hard wood beneath him making him cringe as he turned onto his back.
Where was he?
His mind was too fuzzy to remember much of the previous evening. He closed his eyes and remained on the floor—unwilling to move his throbbing head any more.
As the minutes ticked by he drifted off into a half-conscious state. The events of the night began slowing coming back to him bit by bit.
He remembered staring at his own reflection in the mirror—unsure why it mattered that he looked particularly good that night; he remembered his pretty date waiting for him—the brazen look of desire in her eyes; the long, windy walk to Hogsmeade as she prattled on about her petty, insignificant problems; he remembered the first few drinks that helped him to forget her voice—and the dozen that followed; he remembered looking into her eyes and imagining she was someone else...
The gray eyes flew open.
The boy sat up and immediately had to suppress the urge to lie down again. He pressed a hand to his head in an attempt to alleviate the pain and, barely recognizing that he was back in the boys' dorms, he stood and took off running towards the only place he imagined Remus could be.
It couldn't be true, could it?
No. Surely he had had too much Fire whiskey.
Not to mention he saw Remus in almost everything if he gazed at it long enough.
Sirius remembered how he had looked down into his date's green eyes, imagining. For a moment, he had actually thought it was Remus he was kissing.
It seemed like ages before he arrived outside the doors to the hospital wing.
Sirius swallowed hard.
Would Remus be all bruised and cut – his smooth skin marred by the anger of the animal? Would he be angry with Sirius or would he be relieved that he had someone to share his secret with?
Sirius felt his heart speed up and, bracing himself, pushed the heavy door open.
His eyes searched the room quickly, a look of confusion coming to his face.
All of the beds were empty.
The early morning sun was shining brightly through the tall windows.
Sirius frowned.
Had it been a dream?
Surely there must be a back room or somewhere where Remus was allowed to recover away from the other students and their inquisitive eyes. A quick search of the back area of the hospital wing revealed a few such rooms but all of them were empty as well.
The dark-haired boy backed out of the infirmary and began walking slowly back to the Gryffindor tower.
Running a hand over his face, he tried to remember what had actually happened. Despite the haziness of most of the evening's memories, standing outside the Shrieking Shack was surprisingly fresh in his mind. He was sure of what he had seen.
"I forgive you."
He had been too immersed in his thoughts to notice the sound of footsteps approaching him from behind.
He didn't respond but continued his trek back towards his bed in silence—and at a slightly faster pace.
"I said I forgive you, Sirius."
The high-pitched whine was not doing much to help his head.
"Sirius!"
"Shh!" he replied, not even bothering to turn his head.
"I forgive you for leaving me all by myself in the middle of the night and then having the nerve to pass out outside the Shrieking Shack."
He had turned his head before he could stop himself. An angry look was etched on her face but when Sirius showed no signs of stopping she seemed to realize that she wasn't going to get an apology and moved on to the next topic.
"You look awful, Sirius."
Her opinion on his appearance was more detailed than that but Sirius had stopped listening after those first four words—choosing instead to focus his thoughts on the previous evening once more.
Just as he was about to enter the Gyffindor common room her hand on his arm stopped him.
"I could join you," she offered, her lips pouting ever so slightly. "Help make you feel better."
Sirius sighed and shook his head. He couldn't explain why but he found it difficult to even look at her. "Not now."
"Alright, fine," she replied, letting go of his arm and giving off an air of nonchalance.
He turned to go.
"Oh, Sirius?"
With his hand on the open portrait, he waited. He felt the very small amount of patience he had left in him quickly disappearing.
"I spoke to Terry earlier. He and Remus are coming to the study group on Friday. See if you can't get Remus to show some interest in Paige."
He paused for a moment, his back still to the blonde, before stepping inside and slamming the portrait shut behind him.
It was quite a few days before Sirius recovered from his rough night out. When Friday finally rolled around, his head was much better but the ache of wonder still lay in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't seen more than a few quick glimpses of Remus that week and the thought of the evening's study session had left him feeling extremely anxious.
He once again stood staring at his reflection in the mirror. His face looked tired and his hair was matted and unclean. He had just under an hour to get washed up, dressed, and down to the library.
Stepping into the shower he tried to forget the confusion and uncertainty he felt.
Why wasn't he afraid of Remus? How come the thought of telling someone hadn't even crossed his mind?
Yet, even though his mind asked the questions, he knew the answers.
He dipped his head under the falling water.
He needed to stop thinking about it. To relax. To do something.
The image of golden eyes flashed into his mind unbidden and he felt the sudden, ridiculous urge to reach down...
He shut the water off quickly.