Happy birthday Sirius

Sirius Black looks at the moon. And guesses that it's midnight. He bitterly laughs. He looks at the floor of his cell and sees sand. He decides to take advantage and draws a cake on the sand.
He honestly did not remember his first birthday but guessed that it must have been terrible. With the parents he had, it must have been horrible. He draws the first candle. He was two years old and he had just learnt how to walk without any support. It was his birthday and he was happy. For his birthday he had gotten a book. His mother said she would read it for him. The book was about noble purebloods and evil muggleborns and disgusting halfbloods. He was so young, he believed every word. He draws the second candle. He was three years old and he had a brother now, Regulus. He had a feeling that mother and father loved Regulus more but didn't say anything. He wasn't looking for trouble. He draws the third one and lets the first tear come. Regulus was so innocent as a child. Maybe if he had taken Reg with him when he ran away, Reg would still be alive. He was four now and was doing his favorite activity, muggle watching, on the stone stairs of their house when his mother came and carried him inside by his ear, telling him that h the next time she sees him wasting his time on watching muggles, he will regret it till the end of his days. He draws the next one on the sand. He was five when he decided that his parents were wrong about muggles and muggleborns. He knew he was a Black but he didn't know what that meant to his parents. That is, until his mom came up to him and taught him about the most ancient and noble house of Black and the scared twenty-eight. Sirius hated himself even more that day. Hatred fills him as he draws the next candle, remembering that day. He was six years old and he had a ball for his birthday this year. He had to dance with every girl at sight. He hated this, his parents and everything including being a pureblood. He wished he was a muggleborn with every fiber of his being. He accidentally shared his wish with a boy at the party. Well, let's just say that did not end well. He had defended his wish and said he liked muggles and he preferred to be a muggle rather than a pureblood wizard. Even now after all these years he can hear his mother's scream: "Crucio!" The next candle is not straight because when he is drawing it because his entire body aches, as if the spell is still affecting him after all this time. And when his whole body aches at once so suddenly he flinches. No tears, no self-pity just pain. He was seven and he saw Regulus disobey their parents, trying to copy Sirius. He told his mother that he rathers be like Sirius than like them. His mother was insulted and angry. So angry she forgot that Regulus is only 5. But before the spell could hit him, Sirius pushed him out of the way and the spell got him instead. He felt like his skin was on fire and that his entire flesh was being poked by a thousand hot needles all at once. But it didn't hurt as much. He was used to it. His parents' method of using violence to discipline them was something he was used to. He was slapped, hit and beaten ever since he was very much younger but he always put on a brave face for Regulus. This time he doesn't flinch as he draws the candle. Nothing hurt him more deeply than the first time so no matter how much he thought about the next times she tortured him, he never flinched again. Because the first time wasn't just about pain, it was about betrayal too. She was his mother. How could she? But the next times it didn't hurt as much anymore.
He was eight and he heard his parents talk with disgust in their voice about pureblood families supporting muggles and muggleborns. The Potters and the McKonnins were the main subject of their talk. The Meadows had been suspicious of late about this as well. And the Prewetts and the Weaselys were obviously muggle lovers. That year, for his birthday he wished that he could change his family and go into one of these families, so he could learn about muggles. As he draws the eighth candle, the second tear of that night rolls down his face. Who knew his wish could actually come true? Who knew he would lose it sooner than he wanted to? He bitterly laughs at his misfortune. He was nine and he was comforting his little brother. Mother had just used the cruciatic curse on Regulus for the first time and now the seven year old boy was crying in Sirius' arms. The poor boy had done nothing wrong. He had just said that he didn't want to dance with some pureblood's ugly daughter. But he was punished. He kept saying that everything hurt, his heart, his lungs, his head, his limbs and his skin. He kept asking Sirius to take care of him while crying. As he draws the ninth candle he curses himself for not doing what his little brother had asked him to do. He was ten. He had stood up for what he had believed about muggles and muggleborns and had paid the price. His father was drunk and he was not happy. Sirius had ruined his birthday party with this muggle nonsense. Sirius cleaned the house without help from anyone until he dropped out of exhaustion. He apologized and promised to never talk nonsense again. As he draws this candle, he smiles. He had lied to his father and he is proud of it. He was eleven. He was exited but Reg was not. Regulus asked him if he would still be friends with him even if he had other friends in Hogwarts. He promised him that nothing would change between them. Tears sting his eyes as he draws the eleventh candle. He didn't keep his bloody promise. He betrayed Reg's trust. In that moment Sirius Black, hates himself more than he ever did. He was twelve. And he had friends. Three of them. Sirius Black never thought anyone could love him, but now he had three friends who loved him very much. Sirius was never happier. He stuffed his face with the pumpkin pastries that James, Remus and Peter had brought him for his birthday. He didn't care about that morning, when instead of a birthday card, he had gotten a howler from his dear mother telling him how ashamed he should be of his house and hiss behavior. He draws the next candle as he smiles. What a happy that day was. He was thirteen. He had a cut on his cheek. He had been fighting with Slytherins again. And he had gotten detention. How lovely. Detention on his birthday. But when he asked Mcgonagall to put his detention for tomorrow because it was his birthday, Mcgonagall had said that it was only suitable that one of the school's trouble makers spend his birthday in detention. When he thought about it, he decided she was right. "Wish me a happy birthday Minnie?" "Black, do you want more detention?" And he shut up. As he draws the new candle, he remembers Mcgonagall smirk as she wished him happy birthday anyway. He was fourteen. And he was spending his birthday in Hogsmade. They were playing around when he bumped into a girl and she fell down. He spent the entire evening running away from a very angry Evans. He smiles when he was drawing the next candle as he remembers all the colorful names Lily had called him that day. He was fifteen. And he was in love. In love with his best friend. In love with a werewolf. In love with Remus Lupin. And no one knew. His friends hugged him and wished him a long life, but he was sure that when Remus hugged him his heart skipped a beat. Love was beautiful and scary and instead of seeing both sides, Sirius had only seen the scary side. So he had decided to keep his mouth shut. There is lump in his throat now. If only he had faced his fear. He lets the tears roll down his dirty cheek, leaving a clean trail behind them as he draws the next candle. He was sixteen. It was HIS birthday but all James could talk about was Evans' hair. Not Evans' herself, her bloody HAIR. Sirius never felt remorse for dying it yellow the next morning. The bloody hair ruined his birthday and it had to pay the price. Although to be fair, his groin paid the price as Lily kicked him but it was worth it. After all these years, when he thinks about it, he laughs. He laughs and draws the candle. It is still worth it. Lily with yellow hair was so priceless that he was ready to cut off his own member just to see it again. He was seventeen. He was seventeen and all alone. He was stupid and alone. He was standing at the edge of the tower looking down at the grounds. "Such a beautiful place to die" he thought. He heard a voice call him and looked back to see none other than Lily Evans. She looked at him with worry written all over her face. "You won't care if I die Evans." "And that's where you're wrong Black." "I have nothing to live for." "Bloody hell Black, you're seventeen, you've got your whole life ahead of you." "I almost killed Snape." "I know. He told me all about it. He was using it to tell me how awful you all are." "Then why are you here?" "Because I don't believe him. You didn't want to kill him. You are a lot of things but not a murderer, Sirius." "I have nothing to live for, Lily." "What the hell do you mean?" "I lost my brother and my best friend and the boy I have been in love for so long. My family hates me. My brother probably has the black mark. I've got no friends or family. Tell me, if you were in position would you want to live?" "My sisters hates because I'm a witch and half the wizarding world hates me for being a mudblood. Where do I belong Sirius? Do you think I should jump?" "Don't call yourself that! You belong with us." "What us? You're killing yourself. There will never be an us. It will be me and the others all wallowing in sadness because you're dead." He stepped forward and fell onto his knees in front of her. "What do you think I should do? Stay miserable but alive?" "Stay alive with me Sirius. You say have no friends or family left. But you're wrong. You've got me. I can be either your sister or your friend. Whichever you want." "You're talking out of pity." "Didn't I tell about my sister who calls me a freak? I need a brother and you need sister. Let me be there for you." The conversation rings in his ears as he draws the next candle. Until his seventeenth birthday, he always thought the beat that had happened to him was meeting the Marauders but he was wrong. The best thing that had happened to him in his entire life was meeting Lily Evans, the girl who loved so unconditionally. That night he cried in his knees in front of Lily and when she fell to her knees hugged him tightly and gently patted his back, he realized why James had fallen in love with Lily. She was kind to you no matter what you had done. "And this is how I repay her". Sirius thinks sadly. He was eighteen. It was his birthday and he was pissed. "Can you believe it Monny? The big baboon diched me on my birthday to go on a date with Evans." "For the love of Merlin Sirius, stop being jealous. I know he couldn't come but he lent us the heads common room now didn't he?" They reached the portrait and opened it. "Surprise!" Lily and James had been decorating the heads common room for Sirius' birthday. That was the best birthday he ever had until then. Lily and James had given him muggle money that year. They said that the money was enough for him to buy a motorbike when he graduated. He smiles warmly at the memory as he draws the next candle. He was nineteen. He had joined the war with his friends and he never felt more terrified or alive in his life. James and Lily were married now. Peter had moved out his mother's house. Remus lived Sirius and Sirius, James and Lily were in auror department. They were all making in a difference in any way they could. Their lives were filled horror and exitment. Sirius draws the next candle thinking about his nineteenth birthday in a pub with his four best friends and he smiles. He was twenty. And Regulus was dead. Sirius can't bear to remember that birthday. He had gotten a letter a day before, telling him his little brother was dead. That year all he did for his birthday was to make hot cocoa( Regulus' favorite drink) for everyone and they all sat around the fireplace silently. Sirius dries his tears with his dirty hand after drawing the next candle. He was twenty one. And he was a godfather now. He had a responsibility. He was someone's family, legally. He was so happy. On his birthday, Peter and Remus were on a mission, so he wen to visit James and Lily. Lily had snag him a happy birthday song while dancing around the room with Harry in he arms. And Harry kept giggling at the moves and sounds his mother made. When he got to Sirius' arms, he kept grabbing his hair but Sirius didn't mind. Harry was the only one allowed to touch his hair. He was surprised at how much he loved the little boy and how much he was ready to give just to see him smile. Sirius draws thr next candle as lets his warm happy tears wet his face. Best birthday of his life. He is twenty two now. Alone. In an Azkaban cell. Because apparently he had murdered Peter. He wishes he had done so but Peter is alive and free. Sirius draws the last candle and hits himself in head. He curses himself. It's his fault. It's all his fault. He had trusted a rat. A bloody rat. How could he have been so stupid and naïve? James and Lily were dead because they trusted his judgment. They were dead because of him. The only girl he ever loved was dead because of his stupidity. His brother was dead because he hadn't been thinking clearly enough. His godson, the only person alive allowed to touch his hair, the little boy he loved as if he was his own son was now parentless because of him. Sirius hates himself more than ever. Four days ago his life was ruined but he feels like he deserves to be in here, to pay the price. He is the reason they're dead, why shouldn't he be in Azkaban? He blows out the candles he had drawn. The candles and the cake fly away into the air and Sirius watched the moon from the window of his cell he sobs and begs James and Lily to forgive him. He knows Remus might never forgive even if he knows the truth but he hopes James and Lily will. He had laughed that on the street when the aurors caught him because he had really gone mad for a second and how could he not? He had destroyed the only family he had ever known and loved with his own bloody hands. Remembering this his sobs turn into a mad laughter. It's all his fault. He is guilty. His laughter turns into sobs and his sobs turn into laughter again and again until the morning. Years later, on November 3rd 1996, Harry Potter was in the corridors. He went to the kitchens and asked for a birthday cake with 37 candles. On his way back, he thought about what to tell Ron and Hermione and then smirked. Those two should get together. They had been doing this bloody dance for the last five years. If Sirius' death showed anything, it was that you don't always have time. He didn't want to think that he and his friends might die but he knew that it might really happen so they shouldn't waste any time, but then again if he really was that wise he would've done something when he liked Cho instead of awkwardly liking her and making a fool of himself around her. So he let it go when he remembered that confessing was not that easy. He reached the portrait and gave the password. He wanted to go inside but changed his mind. He walked up to the astronomy tower and sat down near the ledge. He looked up at the stars and saw the Dog Star or as astronomers called it: Sirius. He smiled sadly at the star and let his tears cover face. "I'm sorry about all the birthdays you had to spend alone Padfoot. Happy 37th birthday."