I'm back. Sorry for the delay but life has been pretty busy recently. Anyways, here is my latest offering.

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

Chapter 21

After Fleamont had arrived back from Hogsmeade, he had relayed everything he had learnt, however random or irrelevant it seemed. In all honesty, he really didn't know what to think, but he was slowly trying to piece together the puzzle. The more he thought about it, the more he began to realise he had learnt a lot. Sirius had been suspended for some reason at the end of term and had left five days earlier. Why? He did not know. James hadn't been forthcoming with that information. He knew Sirius had been mostly okay when he left the school, but not when he returned. Something had obviously happened to Sirius during those five weeks. He knew Sirius's parents had basically tortured their son, but he felt there was something greater at play, and Regulus confirmed that. Christmas Eve. Something had happened to Sirius then. Something had changed the tables. Someone else had entered into the playbook. Then there was nothing, until Sirius had somehow made his way into the Three Broomsticks. None of it made any sense. And with Sirius's current state, it would continue to not make sense.

Sighing, Fleamont sat down and ran a hand through his hair. None of that mattered right now. All that mattered was Sirius. He stared at the same piece of parchment for seemingly the millionth time, but he couldn't make head nor tail of it. Normally it would come to him in a heartbeat, but then normally, he wouldn't be beside himself with worry. He leant back and rubbed his face. It was pointless. There was no way he would be able to concentrate with Sirius so deadly ill upstairs.

"Any change?" Fleamont asked, as he stood in the doorway, having given up on work.

"No," Euphemia replied, shaking her head. "How could someone do this to him? How could his parents let this happen?"

"I don't know," Fleamont said wearily, as he sank down next to his wife.

"Why did it happen?"

"I don't know."

"But," Euphemia started before stopping. She looked between Sirius and her husband, before starting again. "I know there's stuff you cannot tell me, but I don't know anything."

"You know as much as I do," Fleamont replied tiredly.

"But that's nothing!" Euphemia exclaimed.

"James said Sirius hadn't said a lot. He said that Sirius was trying to pretend it didn't happen."

"What?! I don't understand; it's James and Sirius?! They share everything!" Euphemia tried, utterly confused.

"I'm not sure, but something happened at the end of last term," Fleamont started.

"And it's the reason Sirius didn't come to stay last holiday?" Euphemia deduced.

"Partly, I think. I think there were more pieces in play but yes, I think it played a part. I, I, well I just thought they had fallen out over a girl or something," Fleamont surmised.

"I can understand that, but if Sirius was in this state, a girl wouldn't come between them."

"James believed Sirius was dead."

"What? I don't understand. How?"

"Regulus, Sirius's brother, told him Sirius had died from dragonpox," Fleamont explained.

"Fleamont, I really don't understand where you are going with this. Why would Regulus tell James his brother was dead when he wasn't!"

"I don't know darling," Fleamont replied, holding his hands up. "I think, well when I spoke to Regulus, I think he really didn't know. I think he was tricked."

"But why?" Euphemia asked, as she gently stroked Sirius's head.

"I don't know. Something happened. I know that is obvious," Fleamont said quickly, as he watched his wife start to interject. "I don't think this is all his parents' doing. He somehow ended up in the Three Broomsticks in the cellar. He somehow managed to get past Dumbledore's age line. I don't think he did that of his own free will."

"Why would someone take him to the Three Broomsticks? He wasn't drinking, was he?"

Fleamont shook his head. "I can't be sure, but I don't think so. I think someone dumped him there."

Euphemia frowned. "None of this makes any sense. Why would someone dump him at the Three Broomsticks?!"

"Euphemia, I don't know! I'm just as confused as you. That's why James blames himself."

"James blames himself?"

"Dumbledore believed Sirius had been drinking at the pub. When James first saw Sirius, he had spent the last four days thinking Sirius was dead. Then Sirius turns up alive and seemingly drunk after a four day drinking session. James was, well he was understandably confused and angry. So, he shunned Sirius, and now he blames himself. He thinks if he hadn't then Sirius would be okay."

"But that's ridiculous!" Euphemia exclaimed.

"He's fifteen darling. Sometimes, no matter how intelligent they are, sometimes they'll put two and two together and get two hundred," Fleamont replied, sighing.

"I'll write to him, let him know it's not his fault. It isn't James's fault. Did you manage to speak to Dumbledore?"

"No," Fleamont replied, shaking his head. "I didn't. I just didn't trust myself not to duel him. How he thought it was justified just to abandon Sirius like he did, I just, I just didn't trust myself."

Euphemia nodded. "I understand. How did he not know something was wrong? I know there are hundreds of children at Hogwarts but why didn't one teacher notice something was wrong with Sirius?! Why did it fall to James?"

"I don't know darling, but I can't talk to Dumbledore yet. I'm still too angry."

"I know, and I wouldn't trust myself either. Why don't you get some rest? Sarah said she didn't expect Sirius to wake up for a while. He'll need you when he wakes up and you aren't going to be a lot of good if you are unconscious yourself."

Fleamont made a face. "Yeah, I guess." He looked down sadly at Sirius. "I'll take over from you in a couple of hours. I just don't think he should be alone. Well, just in case, just in case anything happens to him."

"I won't leave him," Euphemia replied, taking her husband's hand.

"Okay," Fleamont said quietly, as he slowly and reluctantly stepped away. He bit his lip before leaning forward. "I'm just going to be next door, Sirius," he said quietly, as he gently took Sirius' cool, limp hand. "If you need me let Euph- Mrs. Potter know. I will be there." He stopped and looked around. "Promise me you will get me if anything changes."

"Of course, darling."

Fleamont nodded, before reluctantly leaving.

Ooo

Fleamont put down his quill and rubbed a hand over his tired face. He had moved his desk into Sirius' room, so he could be there, no matter what, for Sirius. They had finally identified the poison that had been coursing through Sirius' blood. Mortuus cruciatu, or something. There had been ten times more of the stuff that they had ever seen in someone's blood stream, living or dead. How Sirius had survived so long, no one knew. He had watched Sirius suffer and fight against the poison. He had watched the pain. The nightmares. And all he could do was talk to him and hold his hand, hoping that Sirius could hear him and know he wasn't alone.

Even now, with the poison no longer in Sirius' bloodstream, there was no guarantee he would survive but, as he looked down at the boy, it seemed as though Sirius had turned a corner. His breathing seemed less laboured. He seemed more restful. Fleamont reached out and brushed Sirius' arm. "How are you today, Sirius my lad?" he said gently, not expecting a response. "You seem a little better. A bit stronger. You're a brave boy, aren't you."

"Fleamont, any change?"

Fleamont looked up tiredly towards the door and his wife. "He seems a little stronger today," he replied with a tight smile. "He doesn't seem like he's struggling as much as he did."

Euphemia walked over and looked sadly down at the boy. "I feel so helpless. I wish I could do more for him."

"I know. It doesn't seem right, just sitting here," Fleamont added sadly.

"I wish I could-"

"You can't, you know you can't. We don't know if the reaction was to do with the poison, or something else. He's not strong enough to fight it. He won't survive if the magic attacks him like it did before."

"I know," Euphemia replied, tears in her eyes. She reached down and stroked Sirius' hair. "I know, but he's my son and seeing him like this. Seeing him struggle like this and be in so much pain but knowing I can't do anything to help him. It's breaking me. I wish there was something else we could do."

"I guess we continue to do what we are doing, and be there when he wakes up."

"And you are sure his parents can't claim him?" Euphemia asked fiercely.

"I'm sure. There is more than enough evidence. It's up to Sirius if he wants to take it further."

"What would happen to them?" Euphemia asked, not really caring about the answer.

"They would go to Azkaban for the rest of their lives," Fleamont replied tiredly. "I'm not sure what Sirius wants to do. It's his choice, but I am not going to let him go back to them."

"Why would he want to go back?!" Euphemia exclaimed.

"One of the reasons he didn't tell anyone what was going on. They threatened him. They threatened us. They threatened James. They threatened Peter and Remus. They threatened the muggleborns in his year. They threatened his brother. They threatened to hurt or kill them, if he said a word about what happened," Fleamont replied with a clenched jaw.

"Oh, my darling," Euphemia cried, as she kissed Sirius' forehead. "My poor, brave baby. I won't let them hurt you. I won't let them anywhere near you. Fleamont, are you sure they won't try and take him?"

Fleamont nodded. "The Blacks are a strange lot. But there is one thing more important than anything else: status. They won't want this getting out into the community. Of course, they can claim Sirius is lying, but the diagnostic spells tell otherwise. I am more likely to be able to reason with Orion than Walburga, but he's not going back to that place. And he would. I know Sirius would if they threaten someone close to him. But I have to protect him from that."

"He wouldn't survive if he went back," Euphemia replied distinctly, as she continued to stroke Sirius' hair.

"I know darling, I know. That's why we have to protect him."

Euphemia nodded. "I'm, I'm going to the shop. Is there anything you need?" she asked, her eyes very bright as more tears threatened.

"Nothing thank you," Fleamont replied, watching her leave. He sighed. "She's just worried about you Sirius. She is frustrated she can't use her magic to heal you. Watching you like she has been doing, and not being able to help you, it's eating away at her. To be honest, Sirius, it's eating away at me. Not that it's your fault at all. It's just, well we just want you to be well again. We just want you to be you again. And, I know that might take some time, but we will be there for you."

Fleamont frowned. He could have sworn he felt Sirius' fingers move under his. "Sirius?" He watched carefully. "Sirius," he tried again, watching the boy closely.

Why was it so dark? Why was everything so heavy? It was as though a twenty stone weight was lying on his body. His eyes felt as though heavy weights were attached to his eyelids, making it impossible to open them. He could feel pain. White hot pain stabbing away at his body. He could hear voices. Lots of voices, laughing at him. Judging him. He could feel cold, dead hands grabbing him, trying to pull him underwater, but he could not see them. Suddenly, he could hear a voice cut through the noise. It was clearer than anything else. He knew it. He recognised the voice, but he could not place it. However, he knew it was friendly. He tried to concentrate on it and, as he did, all of the other noise seemed to fade.

Slowly, and with great effort, he managed to open his eyes. His vision was hazy. He could make out vague shapes, but nothing else. He blinked several times as he tried to clear his vision. He frowned. The person looking at him looked like James, but older. "Mr. Potter?" he tried.

"That's right," Fleamont replied with a smile. "How are you, Sirius?"

"I-I, I don't know," Sirius managed.

Fleamont nodded understandingly. "Of course. Do you need anything?"

"I don't know," Sirius replied in a small voice.

"It's okay Sirius, you've been through a lot. I just want to make sure you are okay," Fleamont replied gently.

Sirius closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them again and noting the clear tube attached to his arm. So, they still couldn't use magic on him? Or was because he wasn't a wizard anymore? Either way, he was unclean in his parents' opinion. They wouldn't want a stain like him to carry the Black name. A tear slipped down his face. They were going to kill him. He didn't know if he cared or not. He just didn't want them to hurt his friends. He should have just let that man kill him. He shouldn't have fought it and then, well, then he wouldn't still be a threat to them.

"It's not bothering you?" Fleamont asked, as he gently stroked Sirius's arm. "It's just there to give you potions to make you feel better."

"Okay," Sirius replied quietly. He closed his eyes for a moment, wincing as a shiver cut through his body.

"Sirius, are you warm enough?"

"I don't know," Sirius muttered, as he curled up into a ball.

Fleamont looked at the boy sadly. He reached over and pulled out another blanket, wrapping it around the boy. "James and your friends will be relieved."

"Why? They hate me!"

Fleamont found himself frowning. Why would Sirius think his friends hated him? Then he recalled his son's words. Dad, make sure you give him this. His memory is all messed up and he might forget about our conversation. It's really important he doesn't forget about it. He pulled out the piece of parchment James had given him and handed it to Sirius.

Sirius took the piece of parchment with trembling hands and tried to read it, but his eyes refused to focus on the untidy handwriting.

Fleamont watched Sirius' eyes slip in and out of focus. "Sirius, do you want me to read this?" He waited for a moment before watching Sirius slowly nod. He cleared his throat

Padfoot,

You told us what happened leading up to the incident. We don't blame you. We forgive you. You are still our friend. You are still a marauder.

Prongs, Moony and Wormtail.

"You were saying, Sirius?" Fleamont said with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

"I don't remember," Sirius replied in a small sob. He licked his dry lips.

"It's okay Sirius, it's very normal to have difficulty with your memory after what you've been through," Fleamont replied kindly.

A tear slipped down Sirius' face. He didn't understand. Him being alive meant his friends' lives were in danger and anyway, his friends wouldn't want to be friends with him now. He had betrayed one of his friend's deepest secrets to an enemy, and now he was weak. He felt warm, gentle arms wrap around him.

"Easy Sirius, it's okay. It's okay. I've got you. Just lean on me lad. You're going to be okay," Fleamont encouraged.

Sirius closed his eyes for a moment. He was still dying. He wondered how much longer he had left. But the way he felt, he doubted he had much longer. He was glad he had settled everything with the marauders, especially Remus, who he had so painfully betrayed.

"They found out what had poisoned you, and you got the antidote in time. You're going to be okay, Sirius."

"What?"

"You are going to be okay. I know you probably don't feel great at the moment, but you will."

"But I, I don't understand," Sirius replied quietly, as he looked down at his wrist again.

"It took them a while to discover what it was, but they did in the end. It was something called Mortuus cruciatu, it's a Latin name. But it would have," Fleamont paused for a moment, as he tensed his jaw. "It was designed to cause intense pain and dark thoughts. It's out of your blood now. You will probably still be feeling the effects, but that won't last forever, and we can manage the pain with muggle potions."

Sirius slowly nodded, as he tried to make sense of Mr. Potter's words. He looked down at his damaged wrist, wondering if that would ever be the same. He frowned. He knew his memory was shot, but he could have sworn it was white, not a red and golden cast.

"They checked your wrist, and it's healing just the way it should be. The doctor, that's what muggle's call healers, thought you would like the colour. She was a Gryffindor," Fleamont explained.

Sirius nodded, not knowing what else to do. "Thank you."

"That's okay Sirius," Fleamont replied smiling. He watched Sirius' eyes close again. The poor boy was exhausted. "Why don't you get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise."

Sirius nodded, his eyes already closing. A small amount of relief washed over him, but deep-down panic gripped him. When he knew he was dying, he knew he could outrun the darkness long enough to keep his friends safe. But now, he would be hunted. With what he did, the man would be angry and would not rest until he had hunted him down and killed him.

Fleamont gently pulled Sirius onto his lap. "Try and get some rest. I know right now it probably feels impossible that it will ever be the same again, but it will be. You will be okay. And I am not going anywhere. You are not alone, Sirius. You have us. You have me and Mrs. Potter. We will support you." He watched as Sirius slowly closed his eyes. Fleamont took Sirius's hand and gently squeezed it. "You are going to be okay. You will get through this. And I am not going anywhere."