Chapter 4

Yes and No.

The sound of the slap rang across the room, loud and clear. The whimper afterwards wasn't quite as loud. "Shut up!" Your mother seethed, gritting her teeth, jabbing her finger into your small chest, "don't you ever say that again, got it?!" It was a good day for your mother. Well it started that way. She actually made you breakfast instead of forcing you to make hers. She had taken you to the park for a little bit and brought you back, allowing you to use her dresses and shoes for dress-up. The long red dress of hers hung loosely of your thin shoulders, dragging behind you as you ran so your mother could see.

"Mummy! Mummy look! I'm a princess!" Your mother looked down and stiffened slightly but smiled dryly, "Yes, of course, sweetheart. You're a princess." You smiled toothily, proud, "I'm a princess! And I'll have a prince one day, right?"

That's when she slapped you, hard, against the face and said it, "Shut up! You. Are. A. Monster. Do you understand!? No one will ever love you, you stupid creature! Because you are a fucking monster!" She ripped the dress over your head and grabbed your wrist painfully, dragging you across the carpet into your room, a bare place with a metal bed, and throws you in.

"Monster!" The door slams, leaving you shaking considerably, hiccupping and sobbing, staring at the door and out the window to the fading sky, with the silver circle of moon rising. You were six years old.

The memory quickly flooded into your head as your stomach push and pulled, as his lips whispered on yours. It was able to jolt you into reality, jolt you back and away from Sirius. He stared as you scrambled back, lust fading, "Y/N-" "N-no," you shot upwards, still backing away until you're against a tree, "leave me alone. I don't like you, okay?" Each word seemed to sting him, like knives stuck in his back.

"I hate you!" You tried twisting your face into anger, "Don't ever even look at me again, okay?! I hate you! Hate you!" You bundled the cloak around you and blew away, leaving him kneeling heartbroken on the ground. Before he could reach you, if he had gotten up, you pull on your clothes. No tears came because you were not sad. You weren't angry. You were hollow, cleaned out by the screams and shouts bouncing around your head.

The castle doors were open because breakfast was being served and it was a weekend so people roamed around the property, not paying any attention to you. You walked in quietly, peoples voices echoing off the high ceiling.

Lily was roaming the tables, looking around, and her eyes fall on you. "Y/N! Where have you been!? I've been looking for you all morning!" Remus, behind her eating, had darker circles under his eyes, looking at you wearily, knowingly. More grey streaks peppered his hair and you guessed it was the same for you. "It was nothing, Lil," you smiled sadly, "I'm okay." Remus looked like he wanted to talk to you later, so you nodded mutely and took a seat across from him, besides Lily.

You were chewing your toast mechanically, quietly, when Sirius walked in, hair tousled and tangled, clothes wrinkled. He sat heavily beside Remus. He didn't look at you and you didn't look at him. After a few minutes Remus got up and shifted his eyes down to you, walking out. You followed shortly after muttering goodbye to Lily.

Remus walked into the clearing, sitting in a rural area beneath a tree, a place where almost no one went, but you two always met. To talk about everything.

"Y/N, what happened?" You pour out everything, not skipping a detail, from when Sirius got you in the closet to when he kissed you in the Forest. When you finished Remus got quiet and you tucked your knees into your arms. "Well…" he said slowly and leaned on the trunk of the tree, "you really said that?" You nod slowly and burrow your head down into the hollow between your arm and legs, feeling tears start to threaten now, after repeating everything that had happened.

Remus sensed it and scooted closer, hugging you close. But not with the same warmness and protectivness of Sirius, of love. But of friendship and understanding.

"Look, Y/N, I know how this is," he started, looking down at you, "but he'll stop, okay? I know Padfoot, and he does this all the time. Obsesses with one girl for some time, gets her, and goes over to the next one." You nod, knowing it was true. Remus holds you until you sit up and lean your head on his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut, "Why the hell does he have to do this?"

He shrugs, bumping your head up, "Because if you had that power you would too. If you weren't…" The two of you went quiet, unaware of the shadow behind the tree.

Sirius didn't avoid you, just didn't talk to you. Stared at you during class and left notes in your bag with random letters on them. But never directly spoke to you. And, with the obvious bad luck you have, it didn't last long, just like the last time. November twenty-first, a few days after your last turning.

Everyday, every night, you creeped down the stairs of the common room and drew the biggest highlight of your day in the most artistic way possible. Why? To remind you that good things actually happened. Pictures of meeting Remus, of succesing in a new spell, in a Quidditch game. Every night except the full moon nights, of course.

Tonight you did the same thing. You padded down the carpet, wearing a gauzy, thin white nightdress, sketchbook under your arm, pencil tucked into your ear.

You sat in the cushy chair nearest to the fire, leaning the paper on the arm. Your pencil tapped on the white canvas, thinking about the day when he cleared his throat, the shadow on the couch.

"Nice pajamas, L/N," Sirius drawled gravelly, sitting up. He was sprawled on the couch, cat-like ironically, wearing flannel. "Jesus!" you drop the pencil and the notebook, jumping up in the chair. He smirks, "No just me, sweetheart."

You glare at him annoyingly, "Yeah I know it's 'just you', Black. Why are you down here?" "Asking you the same thing," he bolts out of the chair and grabs the book, dangling it over your head before you can react, "but I guess I don't have to." "Stop!" You go for it but he puts his hand on your forehead, pushing you away, "Please!" He smiles mischiviously, "But I want to seeeee," he flips through it aweing at the pictures and drawing of Lily and Remus, of Beating the Bludgers and tap dancing pineapples. He goes quiet though when he sees the last drawing, staring.

A drawing of himself, laughing, head thrown back joyously. His eyes were slightly open, shaded grey, hair falling into them slightly.

He let you go, and you stumble back, cheeks flushing. "Sirius, give it back," you say quietly, brooding. But he doesn't listen just stares, melting silently. "Y/N…" he turns to you alternating in staring at the drawing and staring at you.

"Give it back, Black," you say louder, angrier. "What is this sketchbook for?" Obviously drawing, but you knew what he meant. All the drawings met something, and he knew. But you chose to ignore like he did and repeat, "Give. It. Back."

"Tell. Me."

"Sirius-"

"Y/N, please."

You cross your arms and say quietly, "All the best things that have happened to me."

He went somber, just staring at the drawing again and brushing his fingers over the paper. You look down at your bare toes and spin on your heel to go upstairs, whispering, "Give it to me tomorrow, Black." A hand steels on your shoulder and whirls you around, making you stare into his smoldering grey-blue eyes, flaming up with different emotions.

"Don't ever call me that. Ever again." And his lips are on yours, hot and hard, so unlike in the woods. The force takes you by surprise and makes you stumble, pushing on him so that you both fall to the carpet. He smiles and kisses you harder, pushing you closer to him. And it felt so good, being able to let someone touch you that wasn't Lily or Remus. You could feel his hands through the dress, circling around your back.

You didn't protest, tangling your fingers into his hair, tangling your legs into his. Your mouth had been open from the start, but now is when you started exploring his mouth as he did with yours.

But something, the something that always came, pulled you away reluctantly. "Sirius… Why do you like me? Why… why if you know what I am?" He shook his head, smiling, "You don't get it yet. Y/N, I don't like you," what Remus said flew through your mind and you started getting up when Sirius grabbed your wrist and pulled you down again, nose to nose, "Y/N, I don't like you," his lips are now whispering against your again, barely touching, "I love you."

The sincereity in his voice moved you and you smiled, cupping his cheek, "Truly, Sirius?" His hand held yours there, "Truly."

You pull him up and kiss him very slowly, and pull away fast, picking up your sketchbook and pencil. "Can you meet me tomorrow in the Forest?" He looks at you lopsidingly, grinning, "Okay."