AN: Update! :) So, I just read Casting Moonshadow and it is AMAZING even though I have some little problems with it/Remus' charachter. Go and read it! Just please don't abandon me for it, you guys. I live off of reviews. *Hint, hint*

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

Warnings: Child abuse, swearing.

Christmas was not a winter miracle. The world was not covered in a pristine snow and loomed over by a great white sky, nor was the Black house particularly festive.

Sirius shivered. The window to his room had been left open, practically freezing him.

Before he could move to close it, though, four owls careened into his bedroom, landing stop his ancient dresser with slight thumps. Wide awake now, Sirius clambered out of bed, quickly tearing the parcels and letters off of their feet.

"Fuck," he muttered. "I forgot!" Then, to the owls: "stay here, but be quiet!" Indeed, Sirius now felt rightfully guilty. He had forgotten to send his friends letters. Merlin, how could I?!

But still, he felt a twinge of happiness as he looked down upon the three packages and four letters.

He went straight for James' first, tearing the letter open with haste.

Hey Padfoot!

Happy Christmas! I hope the parents aren't giving you a hard time. Mum's taken away my broom for a week, Pads! A WEEK! And just because I burned half the kitchen down! Can you believe it?! I have to keep in shape, but she won't have any of it. Talk about unfair. What about Lily? I'm supposed to be a champion for her, Pads! She won't give me a chance if I'm not! And Lily's beautiful, she's amazing! Do you notice how her hair flutters in the wind JUST SO? How her eyes crinkle when she smiles? Her voice is so pretty, Padfoot! Oh hold on you don't want me to talk about her. Wanker. Anyways, I hope YOU do have a use for the gift. And I hope I can see you soon. Will your parents let you?

Love, Prongs

Grinning, Sirius moved onto the present. He could almost hear James' voice reading the letter. The parcel itself turned out to contain new Quidditch gloves as well as a broom compass.

Dear Sirius, Remus' read.

Merry Christmas! How are you? I hope your parents are treating you alright.

My holiday has been pretty good so far, despite my "furry little problem," as James calls it, but I'm eagerly awaiting the time when we will all return to Hogwarts.

I heard Prong's mum took away his broom for a week. I admittedly feel bad for him, though he did burn up half the kitchen. Mrs. Potter must have been mad that she couldn't cook her favorite biscuits!

Padfoot, I gave you this gift because I hope you'll use it. It helps when you can write things out, I promise. Only one more year left in that house.

Please write back- James said he invited you to his house along with me and Peter. I know you said earlier that you couldn't, but maybe you could plead with your parents?

Love,

Remus

Confused and slightly wary, Sirius tore the paper off of the gift his friend had given him.

Oh. It was a diary. Rubbish. I don't need this. I'm not a bloody teenage girl.

He stared at the leather-encased book, a single star burned onto the cover. Well, thanks for the thought, Moony. He suddenly wished he was back with his friend, sitting with him in the common room; watching the roaring fire while Remus read, his sandy brown hair flopping over his eyes as he concentrated. He wished he was with his Moony, not in this prison of memories and hurt. He yearned for Remus' every careless touch, given with so much grace; for his raised eyebrow and the tips of his mouth quirking up; for the brightness in Remus' eyes as he thought up a prank; he yearned even for the light reprimands he bestowed upon him.

But he was alone in this Hell, trapped in the dark confines of his room, wishing for a way out of the torture.

Black cloaked him, falling around his lithe frame in waves of velvet and satin, the color rich and foreboding; blank, unlike the deep, endless tinge of the night sky.

Sirius had the urge to mess up his hair just to spite his parents, but grudgingly let go of the idea and squared his shoulders, chin held high in pride that could almost be called defiance to those who knew.

Narcissa greeted him with a slight incline of her head, not friendly nor disdainful, and Bellatrix with a sneering, "Hello, dear cousin of mine."

"Where's Uncle Alphard?" Sirius asked. Without Andy, who had recently been disowned, or his uncle, Sirius doubted he would even survive this family gathering.

"He was too sick to come."

Dammit.

He barley registered Bella's mouth moving. Instead, Sirius turned and walked away. He was once again irrationally angry, hand clenching around his wand under his cloak.

Think of the letters, of your friends.

Peter's had consisted of a quick Have a great Christmas! and a box of sweets.

Sirius had, however, also received a letter from Lily. Merry Christmas, it had said. You're a bastard, but I'm still writing this. I just want you to know that if you need to talk, I'm always here. I know you have Remus, but Potter isn't the most intuitive person in the world. He's too much of a prick to be anything else. Tell him to give up. Lily.

He had written back replies, telling James, Remus, and Peter he was sorry he hadn't gotten them anything but merry Christmas, as well as passing on Lily's message to Prongs. To Evans herself he had written: Don't bother. I don't need help. I'll pass on the message, though. But you know, one of these days you should give up on your own denial. Merry Christmas, Sirius.

After making himself invisible in the dark corners of the room and attempting to quell his anger at his family, he finally sat down for dinner.

Which he could safely say was more torturous than the previous activity.

Bellatrix was excitedly talking about the Dark Lord, Regulus sharing his report of Hogwarts, everyone blabbering on about how they had "put those filthy Mudbloods in their place."

"He has the perfect ideals," Bellatrix was gushing. "He lets us use the Cruciatus curse to torture Muggles and half-breeds, those disgusting pieces of scum."

"That's who you respect? Someone who tortures people for fun, a coward who only cares about his life and not that he's destroying millions of others'!?" Sirius' hands were shaking under the table, and his voice came out too loud, doing nothing to repress the anger growing inside him.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at him across the table. "Don't insult the Dark Lord," she hissed dangerously, lidded eyes alight with rage.

Sirius wasn't aware of standing up, only that he was shaking in fury. "Your dearest Voldemort is wrong, cousin."

He stumbled when a rough hand pinned him to the wall by his throat.

"Don't talk about the Dark Lord like that," Orion hissed.

Sirius strained to reach his wand, but Bellatrix, who had stood up, picked it out of his pocket. "Uncle, let me," she smirked, replacing his father's hand with her own wand.

Sirius swallowed and tried to not scream when the curse came.

"Crucio."

But everything was gone; he could feel nothing but white-hot knifes diving into his flesh, drawing bloodcurdling screams from someone- who?- until black burst in his vision, showering him in sparks of fire that consumed his shaking body.

Sirius burned in his own ashes.