I don't own.
I don't even technically own the computer, and the English language certainly wasn't my idea…
AN- Thank you so much to the lovelies who reviewed, you all made my day! So more of the same would be AWESOME (yes, in capitals… that's how starved for attention I am. Lol.)
Part Three – I'm Going Slightly Mad.Sirius Black was pacing. Anyone who knew the boy could have told you that this could only mean trouble. Especially when they looked closer and realised that it was that stiff-backed, hands clasped behind his back, white-knuckled, muttering distractedly kind of pacing. At this point, these same people, would have told you that the other side of the school was the best place to be at that point. Then they would have left quickly.
But today, dear reader, we won't heed their advice. We shall stay and discover the cause of Sirius' consternation because I'm the author and I say we are. Besides, if we didn't this story would end here.
Sirius was in a bad place. In fact, he thought to himself, I think I'm going mad. The one thing Sirius was afraid of was becoming like his family. All their hating and judging and screeching and blood-mania… No, if he was to be mad he wanted to be mad like his great aunt, Alula Black. She lived the last twelve months of her life in a greenhouse, waist-deep in rich soil, desperately trying to grow into the beautiful flower she knew herself to be. Sirius would delight in a harmless madness, but he was certain that that wasn't what he was experiencing. He had started to feel…uneasy. Flustered and clumsy and off-centre. He would wake in the night from already-forgotten dreams light-headed and fearful. He would suddenly find excuses to leave the room when Remus entered.
So that was it!
He hated Remus. He hated Remus because he was a werewolf. He felt nauseous. It wasn't the other boy's fault but the infernal blood pumping through his veins was poisoning his mind. Poisoning him with hatred. He was stupid to think that he could escape this fate. Just as his internal monologue was reaching it's overly dramatic and deafening crescendo a messy-haired bespectacled boy entered the otherwise empty classroom. He moved towards Sirius as though he were a lion.
"Sirius," James said quietly. In reply Sirius glanced across the room and then went back to pacing.
James stepped a little closer.
"Sirius mate, you're pacing."
Sirius grunted affirmation.
"It's just that they've sent me to stop you." He made a vague gesture towards the door as if to illustrate where 'they' were.
Sirius kept pacing.
James licked his lip nervously and glanced over his shoulder at the door. This seemed to fortify him so he continued.
"You've got to stop now, mate. The entire school has ground to a halt. None of the firsties will leave their houses… The last time you were seen pacing the result was you paying homage to Boadicea. You rode a chariot through the halls wearing drag! The time before that… well, let's just say that the chickens weren't always inside-out."
Before James knew what had happened Sirius was upon him, hands clutching at James robes, a crazy look in his storm-grey eyes.
"Harmless madness then. Not now, James. Not now…"
Once the fright had abated James' curiosity got the better of him.
"What are you on about, Sirius?" He asked as he pried Sirius' hands from his chest. Sirius looked up at him, for he had sunk to the floor by now.
"I'm going mad. It's finally happened. I'm like them."
"What?"
"I. Am. Going. Mad. Like my whole family. I'm going to become an evil bastard any day now. Make friends with Voldy. Probably move back in with the folks and start looking for a suitable match so I can populate the world with more little crazy -"
Sirius was stopped mid-rant when James slapped him firmly across his face.
"Sirius. Stop it! What brought all this on?"
Sirius stared unseeing at something above James' shoulder. He whispered almost inaudibly.
"I hate him."
"Who do you hate?"
"Remus."
James' loud guffaws broke through the tense silence. He couldn't help himself. When he saw the look of confusion on Sirius' face his laughter began anew. Sirius stopped looking forlorn. Now he was just downright angry.
"What? James I'm serious!"
"I know you are,' he laughed "It's what your crazy mother named you."
"This isn't funny!"
"It is though! It's fucking hilarious! You don't hate Remus."
"But -"
James had stopped laughing now.
"You don't, trust me."
"But -"
"Shhh. Listen to me. You don't hate him. You don't. Think about it some more. If you still think you hate him in an hour I'll come back and set you straight…" James chuckled at this last thought, but before Sirius could ask him what was so funny he was gone, a final declaration of "Just… Stop pacing, okay?" hung in the air in his wake.
Sirius sat at a nearby desk and put his head in his hands. Stupid James. Know-it-all git. What, Sirius wondered, was he on about?
Hmph, he thought.
"Hmph." He said.
He felt uneasy when Remus was around. Conversations had become somewhat terse and strange. To his mind, anyway. If Remus brushed past him he would feel a prickle, his breath would hitch and his back stiffen. If that wasn't disgust, what was? Suddenly Sirius felt exhausted. He folded his arms on the dask, put his head down, and was asleep within seconds.
He dreamed he was in the Great Hall, floating above a sea of people. Every face in the room looked up at him and he gasped in surprise to see they were all identical. He was floating above, and surrounded by, a sea of Remus'. On closer inspection he discovered that not only were the faces not identical as he first thought, none of them seemed right. None were exactly how Remus looked. That one was too tall, this one was too short, another had too-straight ears, not enough scars on the back of that one's right hand and another nearer the doors was conversing loudly in Russian. The more Sirius looked, the more obvious it became that the real Remus, his Remus wasn't there. This filled him with a sudden panic. He became frantic, finally sinking into the crowd, roughly and hysterically searching every face, becoming more and more desperate to find his friend. Tears streamed down his face as the search continued fruitlessly.
Sirius awoke. His sleeves were damp, but his mind was clear. He finally got it. He leaped to his feet and bolted out of the door to find James.
James was laying on his bed reading Which Broomstick when Sirius burts through the door, chest heaving, tears streaming and a look of triumph.
"I love him."
"Yup."
"No, I love love him."
"yeah, you have since you first saw him."
Sirius shook his head as if to clear it.
"I didn't know… How fucked up is that? I literally didn't know love when it bit me on the arse… I am like them…"
"No, You're not. You can love. They can't. Not only can you love, but you can love someone like him… Someone who needs it most."
Sirius sat quietly with a small smile playing on his lips.
"So I'm not mad then?"
"As a march hare, mate. The harmless kind."
They sat in silence then for a long while before James spoke again.
"What are you going to do about it then?"
"Oh! Uh, I think I'll just wear it for a bit, see how it fits. Just get used to it and -"
"You're not gonna tell him, are you?"
"No."
"Coward." James teased.
"I know."