As always, a huge thank you to Ambush99 for her wonderful betaing skills.

Merry Christmas everyone, and as this is more than likely going to be my last posting before 2023. Happy New Year.

Chapter 13

Sirius sluggishly opened his eyes to be met with a blurred whiteness. As he became more aware of his surroundings, he became more aware of the excruciating pain. His head was pounding. His whole body felt as if someone was tearing away at it with thousands of white-hot fiery knives. In his wrist was a pain he'd never experienced before; utter, all-consuming pain. He wanted to scream, but he doubted he had the energy to do so. He tried to think of what had happened and where he was, but his mind was just too slow.

"Good to see you awake."

Sirius looked towards the voice. Someone dressed in bright lime, so bright it hurt his eyes. He could vaguely see their mouth moving but couldn't make out the words. He closed his eyes again, the stark white and lime too harsh for his sensitive eyes.

"Mr. Black, are you in any pain?"

His eyes snapped open and darted wildly around the room. He could hear his ragged, panicked breathing. His vision began to dim but he fought against it. Where was he? Why was his father here? If his father was hurt would they blame him and send him to Azkaban? He heard more voices. They were urgent and demanding, he tried to pull away from their clutches, but he was too weak.

"Mr. Black you need to calm down!"

Sirius fought the arms with every fibre of his body. He was vaguely aware of the cracks appearing on the walls and the shattering glass, but he had to get away from them. They would blame him for his father's condition. The best-case scenario he would be shipped off to Azkaban. At least he would be safe from them and that monster there.

James wandered absent mindedly into the hospital wing. Sirius' condition worried him but Madam Pomfrey had assured him it was a side effect of the operation and muggle potions. He felt sympathy towards muggles if they had to go through that each time they were hurt. Sirius seemed to be in so much pain and barely lucid. He wondered if his friend was aware of his presence, or thought he was some form of hallucination.

"Sirius," he whispered, seeing the commotion at the end of the room. He tore into a sprint, quickly covering the distance between him and his terrified friend. Quickly sidestepping the healers, he was at his friend's side in seconds. "Sirius, mate, it's me," he said as calmly as he could muster. He lay a hand on his friend's trembling shoulder. "What, Sirius? I didn't hear you."

"Drowning," Sirius replied in a hoarse whisper.

"No mate, you're at Hogwarts, remember? You're safe here. No one's going to hurt you," James reassured.

"James?"

"Yeah mate, it's me," James said sitting down, taking his friend's hand. "What's the matter? Did you have a nightmare?"

"No. My father is here. I think he's hurt and they'll…" Sirius stopped and screwed his eyes tightly shut, as the pain increased tenfold.

"Padfoot, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Sirius said, slightly gasping. "My father-"

"He's not here and, as far as I'm aware, he's not hurt," James started, 'although he bloody will be if I have my way about it', he mentally added.

"They'll blame me and send me to Azkaban. Or they'll make me go back to them."

"What?" James replied, struggling to make sense of his friend's train of thought. "Mate, why do you think your father's here?"

"They asked if Mr. Black was in pain."

James shot a pointed look at one of the healers. Weren't they bloody briefed?! "No mate, they were asking if you were okay. Your father's not here."

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, I'm sure," James said nodding.

"Sorry. It's so stupid," Sirius mumbled, burying his head into the pillows.

"No, it's not stupid at all, mate. You have every right to feel scared."

"But to the point a fucking name causes me to lose it?!"

James sighed. He wasn't equipped to deal with this. He wasn't the right person to give advice. "There is nothing wrong with being scared. But are you okay? Are you in pain?" He watched his friend slowly nod. "Where?"

"Everywhere," Sirius replied in a tense whisper.

James nodded as the healers started to fuss around Sirius again. It scared him more than anything else had ever done before. He didn't think he'd ever seen someone in as much pain as Sirius was in. He wondered how his friend could ever be the same after something like this. Looking up, he noticed he was asleep again. He wondered if his friend could escape from the pain there. Letting out an uneasy sigh, he picked up his bag and reluctantly made his way to his next lesson.

Ooo

Sirius woke, what he could only imagine was sometime later. He could hear voices. They were faint and he didn't recognise them but, upon hearing his name, he strained to listen to what they were saying.

"I'm not sure if he is in the right place."

"Sorry, I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

"You've seen the amount of accidental magic he is performing!"

"Yes, it is a concern. And how he reacts when you call him by his surname."

"Do you think he's safe being here?"

"You've heard what the professors are claiming. They reckon he would be in danger if we sent him to St. Mungo's."

"Yeah, but what about the other students? What about everything else in this school?"

"Do you think he's dangerous?"

"I don't know. I don't know, but if this accidental magic continues I think we will need to review his situation. We can't put a whole school at risk just for one student."

Sirius lay there awake, barely breathing as he processed what he had just heard. Was he dangerous? Is that what they thought? He didn't want to put anyone in danger because of him. He didn't want to hurt anyone. But he didn't want to go St Mungo's. His parents hadn't tried to contact him this term, but he knew that they knew he was alive. Either Regulus or Bellatrix, or probably McGonagall or Dumbledore, would have been bound to have contacted them. He had been lucky this far, but they would drag him from St Mungo's. They wouldn't want their handiwork on display. They would either kill him as soon as he walked through the door, or maybe they would lock him in the cellar, letting nature take its course. He turned on his side and curled up, burying his head in the pillows. He thought, just for a moment, life could go back to how it had been before the holidays. He could spend the Easter holidays at school. Then maybe James would let him stay for some of the summer holidays. He would go back to school until he was seventeen, then he would leave and get a job. Somehow, he would earn enough money to pay rent and everything else. It wasn't ideal but it would have been okay. But now this. He was dangerous. The healers didn't think he was safe to be around. What options did he have other than running away? Finding somewhere in Muggle London he could hole up before escaping abroad. He knew leaving school before his OWLs would seriously limit his opportunities. What did it matter? OWLs had no value in the muggle world. In any case he would be dead by the end of the year, whether that be from the poison, his parents' hand, or his own accidental magic.

Ooo

"How is he?" Remus whispered, as they walked out of their Charms class.

"I dunno, he seems off," James tried, as he stuffed the remaining books in his bag.

"Off?"

"Yeah, not himself. Like, really quiet," James replied, struggling to explain.

"I guess that would be normal, especially with what he told us."

"I dunno. Look, I think Madam Pomfrey is cool with me visiting, I'll see if you guys can visit. You'll see what I mean. From the outside he's Padfoot, but it's like he's gone inside," James replied quietly, as he looked down, avoiding any form of eye contact.

Remus nodded. "He'll be okay. He's Padfoot. But it would be good to see him. I need to talk to him. You know. He's my mate. We both fucked up, but he's still my mate."

James nodded. "Moony, I've got to go. I need to talk to him. You know, let him know he's still part of our gang."

"Sure," Remus replied, finding a small smile. "Say hi to him from me."

"Of course," James replied, fixing his smile and setting off down the corridor towards the familiar route to the hospital wing.

"Hi," James said quietly, adding a smile as he faced the nurse. "How's Sirius? Do you think Remus and Pete can visit him?"

Madam Pomfrey took a breath. "Tomorrow," she said, as she nervously folded the sheets. "Let him be a bit stronger."

"Can I visit him? I'll be really quiet," James added with a smile, as he nervously shuffled the parchment.

"If it's just you," Madam Pomphrey nodded.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, James sat down with a scrap of parchment and attempted his essay with heavy eyes.

Hearing the sound of a scratching quill, Sirius looked towards it, smiling slightly at the muttering figure. Letting his eyes adjust to James' familiar and untidy handwriting, he read a few lines. "I thought the Cheering charm was developed in 1065."

"What?"

"You've put 1865. I mean you could have put 1065, but your writing is that shit, who knows."

"Sirius!" James exclaimed, grinning. "You're awake!"

"It appears that way."

"My writing isn't that bad."

"Of course," Sirius replied with a raised eyebrow. He bit back a wince as he shifted in the bed.

"Mate, do you want me to get Madam Pomfrey?"

"No," Sirius said, shaking his head.

"But you're in pain!"

"The muggle painkillers make my head all foggy and I can't think. Besides, I have a high tolerance for pain."

'Yeah, I'm beginning to find that out', James thought grimly. He looked down at his essay. "I guess it looks more like an eight than a zero," he said, scratching it out.

"What day is it?"

"Wednesday, why?"

"Shouldn't you be in Divination?"

"What?"

"It's three o'clock on Wednesday. I have Ancient Runes and you have Divination."

"I'm not going to be missing much."

"I tried to tell you that two years ago."

"Yeah, seriously mate, Ancient Runes?!"

"It's pretty useful, and better than choosing a subject because the girl you fancy is taking it, only to find she drops it and takes up a proper subject."

James whistled. "Okay you win, but it's not as if I'm going to take it for NEWTs."

"Won't Professor Quinn give you detention for missing it?"

James laughed. "Mate, I doubt she'll even notice. The 'inner eye'," he finished in a dreamy voice. "Actually mate, you should definitely turn up as Padfoot. Fuck knows what she'd do. I bet she'd try and convince us all you were the Grim."

"I can't," Sirius replied softly, carefully flexing his fingers.

"Well, not now but when you're all healed and everything."

"No James, I don't think I'll ever be able to become Padfoot again."

"Sirius?"

"They had to pin my wrist together with metal. I don't think I'll be able to transform into Padfoot again," Sirius said sadly, as he looked down and away.

"Mate, have you spoken to anyone about this?" James said softly, pulling his work away and sitting on the bed.

"Who, James? Hi, my name's Sirius Black and I'm an illegal Animagus. But you see I've broken my wrist and want to know if it's possible to continue my illegal ways. Yeah mate, that's not going to work. All it's going to result in is me going to Azkaban," Sirius said tiredly.

"But the healers have to keep all of the medical stuff confidential."

"Mate, I'm underage. I'm pretty sure that rule doesn't apply to minors," Sirius replied, kneading his forehead with his fingers.

"I'll ask dad."

"James-"

"Sirius, I'm not going to mention names or anything. I'll say I'm doing an essay about wizarding underage rights for History of Magic," James replied earnestly.

"Mate, your dad's not stupid."

"No, he's not, but he's also not going to start nosing around. Before you give up on Padfoot, at least ask. It's early days yet. I don't know a lot about muggle healing but I'm guessing you are a long way from being healed."

"Six weeks if I'm lucky."

"Shit mate, I'm sorry. But let me ask my dad the hypothetical question, okay?"

Sirius found himself nodding, not really knowing what else to do. He hated what they had done to him. What else did they want to take from him?! Why couldn't they have just disowned him and cast him out into the street like the piece of rubbish they thought he was. Why did they have to try to take everything from him? But they hadn't, and knowing what he now knew from the healers, coupled with his parents' threats, he had to spin the lie. Dumbledore and McGonagall had believed he stumbled into the school, drunk. Having been drinking in there for a least four days. When James had seen him in the corridor, on the first night, James had believed he had been drinking in the pub. So, it wouldn't take a lot to persuade James that he wasn't some tragic, abused child but a selfish, fucked up, drunken bastard. He had to. He had no choice. It was the only way he could continue to protect his friends.

"Thanks. It's just after the pub and all…" Sirius started, watching James' face twist up in confusion. But it was better this way. It would be easier for the kind, loyal friend sitting next to him, if James just thought of him as a drunken bastard.

Ooo

Fleamont frowned and reread the letter. At first it seemed a fairly normal letter from his son; perhaps a little different from normal, considering the lack of a key character, Sirius Black. When James hadn't mentioned or invited his greatest friend over for the Christmas holidays, he had assumed they'd fallen out over a girl or something. Now the cryptic letter from his son, coupled with the mutterings he'd heard in legal circles that the Blacks were trying to change their heir, he was worried about the other boy. He and Euphemia had always wanted more than one child. They had all but given up when James had come along. The pregnancy had nearly killed his dear wife and his precious son. He knew Euphemia still pined for another child, but it was too dangerous and, given their age, it wasn't going to happen. James had grown up relatively lonely, all of their friends' children being much older than him. Then he had gone to Hogwarts and met Sirius. At first, he'd been concerned, his son friends with the heir to one of the darkest families in the wizarding world, but he trusted his son. Besides, he had to question why this heir to the Black title was the first not to be sorted into Slytherin. Then, that first Christmas holidays in 1971, he had met the boy. Sirius couldn't have been any more different from his family's reputation. He had been quiet to start with, but he had gradually relaxed. It was evident he was highly intelligent, probably bordering on genius level if he had hastened a guess. Sirius had been fascinated by muggle culture. When Fleamont had questioned the boy, he'd replied how we were all the same species but with different abilities. He'd quickly learnt that the young Black heir did not hold muggles in contempt as his forebears did, but held them in high regard. For someone so young, he had incredibly worldly and balanced views. Therefore, after that, Sirius had stayed at theirs for at least a week every holiday until this one. He had begun considering Sirius as the second son they could never have. He knew Euphemia did as well.

Fleamont paused, the feather of his quill resting against his chin, as he considered the next part of the letter. He hoped against everything that his instinct was incorrect, and that Sirius was absolutely fine, but deep down he knew something was wrong. Why else would his son be asking about an underage wizard's right to medical confidentiality?

With regard to your legal question, yes you are quite correct. An underage witch or wizard has the right to medical confidentiality. Whilst most of the time the underage witch/wizard's parents or guardians will be involved in any medical decision, the underage witch/wizard has the right to contest this. If the underage witch/wizard discloses something in confidence to a healer, the healer is not at liberty to disclose or discuss the subject with any third party.

Fleamont paused again, as he pondered the next line. If his suspicions were correct, young Sirius would need a lawyer. He didn't know how bad the situation was but, for James to ask him cryptically, it had to be bad.

This also extends to lawyer-client privilege. Anything an underage witch/wizard discloses to their lawyer remains confidential. The lawyer cannot be forced to disclose it to any third party. That privilege remains with the client, and client alone.

I hope this helps with the essay.

Love Dad.

He paused again, before attaching the letter to his owl, Legolas. The owl had been named by James when he was five. He hoped he had worded the letter correctly. If his assumptions were correct, he was dealing with a very delicate situation.

"Get this to James," he said softly, as he handed the letter to the owl. He watched briefly as the owl disappeared into the sunset.

Ooo

"I don't understand," James said, pacing.

"You're going to have to start from the beginning if you want me to attempt to make any sense of it," Remus said calmly, as he watched his friend pacing in front.

"But it doesn't make any sense. Everyone knows he wasn't hurt in a bloody pub fight!"

"Prongs, from the beginning!"

"What?"

"When Sirius first woke up, what did he say?"

"Not a lot, he was barely lucid. He didn't know where he was. He couldn't remember what happened in the classroom. The second time was barely any better. He was in so much pain and was convinced his father was in the room. He was terrified."

"That's understandable," Remus mused.

"Sure, then why the hell is he lying? They'll kill him if he goes back; what is worse than that!?" James practically exploded.

"I think he's protecting someone."

"What?! Does he know what will happen to him if he goes back?" James practically shouted, as he kicked his trunk in frustration.

"Yeah mate, I think he's acutely aware of what will happen."

Silence fell between the two friends. James took a breath and pursed his lips. "That's why he's in the hospital wing now, isn't it? He's protecting someone."

"Or some people."

"And you think he's prepared to die for them," James said slowly. He watched his friend nod. "Damn it, we would protect him. Doesn't he know that?!"

"Deep down, yes, he does. That's why I'm guessing he only told us when he wasn't lucid. As soon as he became aware of his surroundings, the wall and the mask came back down."

"Fuck, why didn't he tell me what was going on at home? He's my brother," James exclaimed, throwing himself onto his bed.

"I think it's complicated. I think it became so normal for him, he accepted it," Remus said calmly.

"But it's not normal is it? It's bloody wrong. Parents don't hurt their children!"

"It's not that simple, James," Remus sighed, sitting opposite his friend. "When, when..." He stopped, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. "When I was bitten, my parents took me to St. Mungo's and the healers told my parents to leave, that I was probably going to die that night, and it would be better that way anyway."

"Moony," James whispered in horror.

Remus held his hand up, silencing his friend. "They refused. I wasn't expected to survive that night. The next morning the healers took my parents through their options. They could have me killed, or leave me there and let nature take its course."

"Moony, that's barbaric!"

"No James, that's life as a werewolf," Remus countered. "My parents refused to accept it. It took countless hearings to allow them to take me home. It must have been hell for them. My father travelled all over, searching for a cure, but found none. It made them near broke, it almost destroyed their marriage, but they never stopped fighting for me. They never stopped loving me. You, me, and Pete always had that, but Sirius, what did he have? With his family's status he should have had everything in the world, but he didn't. I guess that's why I can identify with him in some respects. But, whilst my condition made my life hell, my parents did everything to enable me to have a normal life. Sirius' parents tried to kill him."

"I'm not the right person to deal with this. I've lived a charmed, sheltered life. I don't understand any of this stuff, but you do, Moony. You need to talk to him. You are far more equipped to deal with it than I am," James replied in a small, lost voice. "I'm scared, Moony. I'm scared we're going to lose him. I'm scared we have already lost him."

"Prongs, he trusts you. More than anyone else, he trusts you."

"Then why didn't he tell me?! I know things all got fucked up last term, but this stuff isn't recent. The abuse has probably been going on for years. All the times he said he hated his family, I just thought..." James paused and ran a shaky hand through his dishevelled hair. "Fuck, I thought they just argued. Why didn't he tell me if he trusted me? He knows my parents and I would welcome him with open arms."

"Perhaps he was scared of rejection?"

"Why?"

"James, he was leaving everything he knew. He was leaving his family. Despite everything we think they did, they are still his family. He's only sixteen, he's underage. Where was he going to go?" Remus held his hand up as he saw James open his mouth, about to interject. "He didn't know that for sure, James," he stopped and sighed again. "The world isn't just black and white. I've never been accepted by society. I'm accepted here because no one knows about my condition. But I'm here, receiving an education I never thought possible, and I have friends. I was terrified you would find out and reject me."

"Moony…"

"No, James. My kind don't have a place in society. Werewolves don't have friends. Now I know you guys wouldn't reject me, but at the time, I didn't know. I'm guessing that's what Sirius is feeling. He's confused, probably embarrassed but mainly he's scared."

"What do we do?" James said quietly, as he took off his glasses and rubbed his face.

"Be there for him. If he wants to spin the lie that he was beaten up in a pub fight, that's fine. We know the truth," Remus replied calmly.

"How did you become so wise?"

Remus laughed. "Well one of us had to be. When are they letting Sirius out?"

"As long as the healers are happy, they'll release him later today."

Remus nodded. "Pete and I will go to the kitchens. I doubt he'll want to face the Great Hall."

"Thanks, Moony, thanks for everything," James replied in a relieved voice. He looked down at his watch. "I guess we better head off, we don't want to be late for History of Magic, not that Binns would notice," he finished with a slight grin.