Welcome to Oregon
There came a time in every boy’s life when he had to leave the joyous world of boyhood behind, and begin to look towards the future. A time in which manhood was imminent, inevitable, and ineluctable. The general idea for this bridge is at the ripe age of eighteen.
Eighteen years was a rather impressive milestone, really. Sirius Black had successfully survived eighteen years under his family’s roof. After obeying his family’s rules, confirming to their norms, biting back retorts, and ultimately managing to disgust his own mother beyond the comprehensible, it was time for Sirius to be inaugurated into the world of adults and dinner parties in the only way his family knew how– the Black family way.
Pollux Black, Sirius grandfather– and one of the wealthiest men in all of America at the time– owned a ranch. It was a grand ranch somewhere in the quiet countryside of Oregon, where the snow in the mountains never fully melted, and the days of summer were endless with lack of any real sunset during the warmer months. It had been a generational home, owned by the same families for a century, until Pollux got his old and withered hands on it. His gray eyes considered it like a wolf might consider the newly born fawn in the spring. He bought it, and turned it into another one of his profitable organisations.
After staining the beloved family home with his Black greed, he also saw it as an opportunity to turn all of his next of kin into ‘real men’. He decided that every boy of his descent was to spend the summer of their eighteenth year on the ranch, doing real labour and learning the real ways of the world.
The endless hills of Oregon rolled past Sirius’ window. He leaned his head against it, letting it bounce against the thin glass whenever there was a disruption in the otherwise smooth road; anything to distract him from the looming entity of his mother next to him in the backseat. The trip had been surprisingly civil so far, and he intended to keep it that way. He had not even glanced in her direction since they sat down in the vehicle back in Washington. The family had fared up north to the summer house in Hunts Point, to make Sirius’ transportation to the ranch easier. The summer house was owned by Pollux as well, as most things were, really.
He felt his mother shift, a heavy sigh coming from her side. Sirius still did not look. “Do sit up straight, Sirius. You are not at that barn yet.”
Her lips were always pursed in aversion as she said the word barn. He did not need to look to know the sour expression.
Biting his own tongue, swallowing down the usual line of indecent responses that seeped into his mind whenever his mother addressed him directly, he reluctantly straightened his back. His head left the comfort of the window. The green forests of the North West still kept him company from the outside.
“Yes, mother,” he mumbled.
“Speak up. You know I hate it when you mumble.”
You hate it when I do anything at all, he wanted to say. He would have said it if he was back home, or in the summer house, or anywhere but in a confined space that moved 45 m/ph.
“I said– yes, mother.” He could not help the slight tone in his voice. It was inevitable when talking to Walburga Black.
Before he knew it, an open hand came flying across his face. The smack was loud and sudden enough to startle their butler– Mr. Kreacher– from his place behind the wheel. He accidentally swerved the steering wheel to the right, making the entire car drift for a second, before he found the balance again and straightened the wheel.
Sirius felt the piercing gaze of his mother, and for the first time, he dared look over at her.
“Look what you did,” she said, eyes gray as thunder. “Your distasteful tone almost got us killed.”
He swallowed the sour taste in his mouth. His face stinged angrily where her hand had slapped it seconds ago. “I apologize,” he did not mumble this time, but he could not find it within him to say that he was sorry– Sirius Black was many disagreeable things, but he was not a liar.
Walburga looked away, face twisted in a disgusted frown. That was how she usually looked after acknowledging Sirius’ existence. Lately, if she could help it, she never looked at him at all. He had become a fleeting ghost in the dark and twisted hallways of the Black manor. If his mother did not ignore him, then she scolded him. If she did not scold him, she would beat him. And if she did not beat him, then she would ignore him. His father sat in his leather comforter and was none the wiser, he never interfered or participated or as much as observed. He simply sat there, silently, reading a book. Sometimes, when Sirius was younger, he would purposefully make Walburga angry, so that Orion would have no choice but to look at him. Maybe then he would have seen the monster he had married, and maybe he would have seen the poor eleven year old who cried out for his help. But maybes were not definite, and Orion Black never did anything but turn the next page of his novel. Unwilling. Uninterested.
Not even when Sirius stood in the entryway, waving farewell to all of his relatives in the summer house, did Orion bother to look at him. He stood in the back, discussing the upcoming election with an uncle or distant relative– Sirius did not care. Do you truly reckon Wilson stands a chance? Surely not. I would not trust his politics any more than I’d trust my bitch of a wife.
Walburga had dragged him into the automobile in the driveway before Sirius could hear the other man’s reply. Her eagerness to head to the ranch had surprised Sirius at first. She had always detested her father’s “idiotic tradition” (her words, not Sirius’). For most of Sirius’ adolescence, she had been adamant on keeping her sons from going, afraid that it would turn her otherwise dutiful boys into dirty scoundrels with no manners. Only, by the time that Sirius reached his teenage years, and she realized that his rebellious tendencies would only worsen with his newfound hatred toward all things noble and Black, it seemed as though she could not wait to be rid of him. He was already a dirty scoundrel, and so a summer surrounded by filthy animals and people surely could not make him any worse.
At the very least she would not have to put up with his bad manners for a few months, so at last, she agreed to send him away.
Her brothers, Cygnus and Alphard, had been the first two to ever venture into the uncustome inauguration of manhood. First went Alphard, as he was the oldest son, and it is said that he fell in love with the place. He never wanted to leave. Three years later, Cygnus arrived at their father’s ranch, and did not have the same experience. He hated every second of it. Years down the line, Alphard had managed to convince their father to let him take care of the place. Surprisingly enough, Pollux agreed.
So, while Pollux owned all of the horses, sheep, and cows. And while it was he that had his name written on every contract and signed every deal, making sure that every strand of grass and creaking floorboard belonged to him– it was really Sirius’ uncle, Alphard Black, who had run the place.
Sirius’ eyes lingered on his mother in the backseat for a while. Her black hair was pinned back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck– as it always was. Her features were sharp and aristocratic, just like her brothers’, just like Sirius’ cousins, just like Sirius’. He whipped his head around, and stared out the window. Walburga’s disapproving eyes stared back at him in the reflection, and suddenly the green Oregon forests were not as much comfort anymore.
He wondered if it was the place’s connection to her older brother that made Walburga detest it so. The family’s disdain toward Alphard was no secret, which was probably why Pollux agreed to let him live on the ranch– as far away from any of them as possible, out of sight, out of mind. Alphard’s affection for the simplistic life only made him less in the eyes of the Noble House of Black, and he officially became the odd one out. He stopped showing up to family events and gatherings, he denied invitations to fancy dinner parties, and never visited unless it was Sirius’ birthday. He never missed Sirius’ birthday.
He’d always bring a present– a book, or a new music sheet for Sirius to learn on the piano. It was never anything extravagant, but it was better than any other gift Sirius received. Alphard’s annual appearance was the only thing that made Sirius look forward to his birthday. He loved hearing about his uncle’s adventures, of his friends, of the new brood, and of the calf with two heads that unfortunately had not survived its first week. He never stayed for long though. Younger Sirius had hated him for it. How dare you leave me here? But as Sirius grew up, and began to feel the glares of disapproval by his fellow family members, he understood it.
A knot of something malicious burrowed itself deep within Sirius’ chest as he thought of his uncle. The remembrance hit him harder than his mother ever had, and left him feeling more sore than any of her scoldings. He should have been excited to go to the ranch. He should have been ecstatic to finally leave the confined rooms of the Black Manor. Most of all, he should be relieved to be rid of his mother.
But what would normally have been the most joyous moment of his life, was greatly overshadowed by his favorite uncle’s untimely death.
Alphard died two months before Sirius’ eighteenth birthday, making it the first to not be graced by his loving smiles and fascinating stories.
Grief was Alphard’s last birthday present to Sirius, and it was by far the worst he had ever received. He had not even known his uncle that well, but in lack of any other approval or love in that godawful house, it was the most heartbroken he had ever been. Not even the death of his childhood dog, Padfoot, had left him in such a state of devastation.
He had walked down the stairs the morning after, expecting to be met with the same grief from the rest of the Black household.
“Just as well,” Walburga had said, sitting at the dining table, surrounded by a fury of black haired heads. “He was completely uncontrollable, and a freak of nature too. It is for the best that he is dead.”
Sirius did not eat breakfast that morning, or the next, or the morning after that. He could not remember when he actually did begin to break the fast again. The days fleeted together. And between the raging hatred he felt for his mother, the disdain he held for his father, and the useless longing he had for his uncle, there was little left to do except float around as a ghost.
Now, eleven months later, he was still riddled with grief, and his mother was not.
“Kreacher, could you make haste? Let us just get this over with,” Walburga spoke beside him.
The butler looked back at them through the rearview mirror. “Yes, ma’am.”
Yes, yes, yes, people always said whenever she spoke, yes, of course.
He hated her for it.
–
The crunching sound of gravel filled the otherwise silent automobile as they rolled into the cul-de-sac. His eyes trailed the fence that framed the grounds, marking its end and beginning, until eventually it faded away over some faraway hill. It was the gate that grabbed his attention, though, as the vehicle finally came to a halt.
His legs were eager to run, and as he left the car, his limbs popped and cracked, thankful for the chance to finally stretch. His lower back hurt, but it was quickly forgotten as he drew his first breath of fresh air. It was so utterly refreshing. The wind fell softly on his cheek, washing away any memory of his mother’s hand against fair skin. It smelled of grass and late spring.
Mr. Kreacher limped out of the car, and grabbed Sirius’ luggage out of the car’s tiny trunk. Sirius was too busy taking in his new surroundings to notice the butler, until suddenly his bags dropped in front of his feet with a great thump.
Sirius tore his eyes away from the view and looked down at the luggage. He had not realized just how much of it there was until now. Carrying them all by himself would be impossible. He looked up at the butler. “Will you help me carry them inside?”
The butler turned to go, limping away to the other side of the vehicle. He was a rather short man, with fine gray hair, and a permanent frown. He’d had a limp for as long as Sirius could remember, and probably even longer. “I am sorry, Mr. Black. The madam requests a hasty return to the summer house, lest we run out of fuel.”
The door to the driver’s seat flew shut before Sirius had the chance to argue further.
Instead, Sirius turned to squint through the window of the backseat. Waulburga’s unnerving eyes were already looking at him from behind the glass. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly tasting very sour again.
She reached over and rolled down the window on Sirius’ side of the car.
“I shall see you in September,” she said.
“All right.”
“Behave.”
Yes, yes, yes, yes, of course.
“Yes,” he said, bitterly.
And that was all.
The automobile rolled away, leaving a cloud of dust and unravelled gravel in the cul-de-sac. After a while, he could no longer see the black car. After a while, the low humming of the motor echoing in the far distance disappeared as well, and Sirius was completely alone.
With a sigh, he turned around and faced the gate. It looked a lot more jarring up close. It had looked a lot less withered and weather beaten from the car window. The rough and gray wood gave Sirius splinters by merely looking at it. At the very top there was a sign. Welcme! it read, though Sirius guessed it probably said Welcome! back in the ranch’s glory days.
A faint memory of it passed like a whisper through his mind. Polished wood, green grass, open fields, a swing. He knew he’d visited Alphard once, when he was very small, and he’d always mourn the fact that he did not remember a single thing from it, but for a swing. Except that was what he had always thought. But as he stood face to face with his late uncle’s sanctuary, all those years later, his mind began to twist and turn, like it was trying to wring out any slight or old memory of the place it could muster.
The shock of the sudden memory left his knees feeling slightly weaker than they had a second ago. How dare you leave me here? The childish voice in him echoed.
He swallowed, desperate to push back any thoughts of his uncle for the moment being. He took a deep breath, and began carrying the inhumane amount of luggage through the aged gate and down the narrow gravel path. It curved and snaked its way over the green field, all the way down to a cottage.
Sirius was too busy trying to carry his belongings, to notice the giddy figure moving toward him. It was not until he was mere feet away, that he looked up at the sound of the hurried footsteps. The person was waving at him frantically. It took a moment for recognition to settle in his mind.
It dawned on him like the first ray of sunshine in the spring, and he immediately abandoned any and all luggage behind him, as he ran toward the individual with just as much speed and intention.
“Sirius!” His cousin cried.
“Andy!” He replied, and she laughed happily, her dark plaits flying behind her in the wind.
Before they knew it, they were engulfed in each other’s arms. They tangled together in a great, happy mess. They collided, like two stars spinning into each other’s orbit, crashing, and leaving nothing but stardust and endless explosions of color behind.
If anyone had been there to see it, they would have undoubtedly thought them to be siblings. Their dark hair, fair complex, and aristocratic noses would have been enough to paint them as twins. But the true similarities were far beyond any finely drawn feature, yes, it was what lied within. Their spirits were mirrors of each other– both longing to become their own person, to reign freely over their own lives, to distance themselves from all nobility within the ancient house of Black.
Andromeda, a galaxy full of ideas and dreams.
Sirius, the brightest star in the sky.
She was the second person in their family to ever look at him with anything other than disgust or disappointment. She saw his rebellion and matched it tenfold. He could barely count the endless dinner parties they had been forced to attend, and then snuck away from together. They would bring a bottle of whatever was available, and hide away in a storage room or closet. The voices of their family members fell as a murmur through the walls, and at last, they could speak freely. It was during one of these moments that they’d dubbed each other as brother and sister. They were as close as, anyway. Their blue blood did not come without generations of protective measures to make sure that it would remain.
They pulled apart, and her dark eyes darted across his face– that was their only difference. Where Sirius was cold and sharp, she was warm and soft. Her eyes were dark as the night sky, and her cheekbones were soft. He had spent a greater time of his life envying her for it. He was cursed to look in the mirror and be met by Walburga’s repulsed eyes. Andy did not have to know what that was like.
“Whoever allowed you to grow so much,” she said, reaching up pinching his cheek. He swatted her hand away.
“I had to get you back for all the times you bullied me for being short, sister mine.”
“And get me back you did, brother dear.”
They smiled at each other, and Sirius felt any anxiety or looming dread slowly drift away. Oh, how he appreciated his cousin.
“Help me carry some of this, would you?” He gestured towards the embarrassing amount of bags behind him, completely deserted in the gravel.
“If I must,” she replied, pinching his cheek once more for good measure, before heading toward his belongings.
Then, together, they trudged along the path, and down toward the big white cottage.
It was a humble wooden house, with three floors, and ivy growing restlessly along its walls. The white paint, much like the wood back at the gate, had withered away slightly, leaving behind a chipped and aged facade. It almost looked abandoned. A few of the windows stood open, letting the fine white curtains flutter in the wind. There was a tiny set of stairs leading up to the front porch, and each step creaked more than the last as Sirius made his way up. The front door stood open for them, and Andy briskly walked inside, and looked back at Sirius with a small smile.
The smile was a bit different from the one they’d shared on the path. No teeth, no smile lines, no sparkle in her eyes. He understood, because of course he did. The moment he stepped foot through the doorway, he realised that his grandfather’s ranch was haunted by the ghost of its past caretaker.
Thankfully, he did not have time to dwell on the thought too much, before Andy turned around again and continued inside.
As they walked through the narrow hallways of the house, she explained that this was the Main House. This was where they all slept and ate. She pointed to random doors and hallways, explaining each room’s purpose. That is the mudroom. There you’ll find the kitchen. This here is the dining room. Next to the dining room is where Frank sleeps, he snores you see, so we had to force him down to the first floor. And this room, and that room, and this, and so on and so forth. The rooms and names of all the people blended together in Sirius’ mind, leaving him more confused than before, but he nodded along whenever Andy looked back at him, and replied easily whenever she waited for his acknowledgement.
Throughout it all, though, he could not help but admire how light everything was. The walls were covered in pretty floral wallpaper, the flowers were soft pink and yellow against white a background. Beyond the wallpaper, the walls were also adorned in paintings or knick knacks. He thought of the barren and deep blue walls of the Black Manor. The cold marble flooring was a huge contrast to the light wooden flooring of the cottage. It was the same type of wood they had presumably used for the porch, as well. He could almost hear his mother’s disapproving comments. He pushed her voice away, too focused on following Andy, too scared to get lost in the maze of rooms and hallways.
After dragging all of the bags up two flights of stairs, they finally reached the third floor. Andy stopped suddenly in front of the second door to the left of the stairs. She gestured towards it.
“And here you are.” She urged him to open the door.
Sirius reached out for the worn down doorknob, and the door creaked open beneath his hand. The scent of warm and swollen wood washed over him, filling him with a sense of nostalgia— for what, he was not sure. But his mind began to turn itself with long lost memories again as he looked out over the room.
The first thing he noticed were the two beds, standing pushed against opposite sides of the room. The one to his right was completely untouched, while the one to his left had been completely taken over by various items of clothing and luggage. Sirius stopped his train of thought. No, that was not luggage. That was one leather satchel, one jean jacket, and one cowboy hat. Nothing else.
As if reading his mind, Andy stepped up next to him, dropping the things she’d been carrying to the floor. “That would be our summer trainee,” she explained, nodding toward the left bed.
“Oh,” Sirius said stupidly, in lack of anything else to say. He was not prepared for there to be another person joining them for the summer, let alone for that person to share his bedchamber. Were there not multiple other rooms in the great house? They’d walked past loads on their way there. Surely this “trainee” could sleep in one of them?
He eyed the cowboy hat. If only his mother could see him.
He then let his eyes drift over the rest of the room. It was not very large, and was as humble as any other part of the house had seemed on the way there. The floral wallpaper had been switched for a striped one, though most of the color had been washed out from years of sun and wear and tear. The beds had one nightstand each, and on the wall between them was a singular window.
The realization hit him that he had never stayed in a room as tiny before. He had never slept in the same room as someone else either, not like this at least. He had slept in his little brother’s bed a few times when they were kids, and afraid, and alone. But this was very, very different.
“I’ll leave you to get settled.” Andy put a hand on his shoulder. “Supper should be ready soon.”
“All right,” Sirius replied as he tried to recall where the dining room had been.
“It’s good to see you, Sirius.” She dropped her hand and walked to the door. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I cannot believe you survived this place for so long without me.”
Something shifted in her face. “You have no idea.”
She gave a final smile, and then she was gone, leaving the door ajar behind her.
Alone again, Sirius sighed and moved to open the window. The stuffy air was starting to get to him. He struggled for a bit. The window seemed completely stuck. He sighed, again, and gave up.
He eyed his roommate’s packing, and then his own. Sirius had at least four times as much as the mysterious summer trainee. To his relief, there was a drawer on either side of the room. He could not imagine having to share a drawer as well. Without a second thought, he moved to put all of his clothes into the drawer, neatly folded and organised by item. It was laughable, really, because Sirius had never bothered to put away his clothes like this before– dirty or otherwise. He would always leave his dirty laundry all over his floor, much to his little brother’s horror. If only Regulus had seen him then.
In the midst of unpacking his last bag, he was immediately brought out of his thoughts when there was a creak behind him.
Instantly, Sirius’ head whipped up at the sudden sound, looking to the doorway behind him.
He was not entirely sure what he expected to find by the door, but was undoubtedly very surprised to find a man storm into the room, wordlessly, bringing in a cloud of dust and grime behind him. His boots fell heavy on the swollen wood and left a trail of dirt as he stormed past Sirius without even glancing in his direction. Sirius did not get the chance to study the man’s features any further, due to a very large and obnoxious cowboy hat flopping down on his head, hiding half of his face. The only thing Sirius managed to catch a glimpse of was a slight frown, and a tiny scar on his upper lip, then he turned his back to Sirius completely.
Sirius stood awkwardly, one of his shirts in hand, as the man began to furiously dig through his satchel.
Sirius cleared his throat.
No reaction.
He simply continued to stare into the back of the man’s head.
“Hey,” Sirius said. He noticed a hint of that tone that his mother loved so much. He could not help it.
Finally, the man seemed to have found whatever it was that he was looking for, because he stood up and turned his head back slightly, looking at Sirius.
The first thing Sirius noticed was the pink scar, slashing across the man’s face. It began at his right eyebrow, continued over the bridge of his nose, and finally down below his left cheekbone. It had jarred edges.
“Hey,” he replied.
And just like that, the scar disappeared out of sight again as his new roommate turned his back and headed out the door, in the same aloof manner in which he had entered.
Sirius made notice of the sandy curls peeking out beneath his hat at the nape of his neck.
The door slammed shut.
Sirius stood there, unmoving, utterly stunned for a second. “Well,” he murmured and began to fold his shirt. “Aren’t you a ray of sunshine?”
When the shirt did not immediately fold as he wanted it to, he gave up and threw it into the drawer, before slamming it shut.
He flopped down on his bed.
It was going to be a long summer.
–
When Andy finally called him for dinner some time later, he tried not to stumble as he practically ran down all of the stairs. His stomach growled. He had not eaten anything since that morning, and the lovely smell of food carried through the house. His roommate never returned again after that strange interaction in their room, and the only trace of him ever being there was the dirt stains on the floor. Luckily, Sirius did not mind a bit of grime and dirt, and never had.
In their early childhood, Sirius always used to chase after Regulus with grimy hands. Regulus cried and shrieked whenever Sirius got close. Then, when Walburga would tell Sirius to stop, he put his filthy hands all over her gowns, tainting them with his imperfections. Her left eye always began to twitch– that was when Sirius knew that he was going to be disciplined.
He followed the smell, until he eventually found the kitchen. A wide archway gave way into the airy and spacious kitchen. Its interior matched the rest of the house in colors and age.
He expected to find the entire staff, but was met with no one but Andy and a man. A new face, and completely unlike the scarred face of his roommate. This man smiled kindly as Sirius entered, but it was Andy who was first to speak.
“Ah, perfect, there you are.” She met him in the archway and put a hand on his shoulder.
Sirius took a moment to regard the other man, who was standing with his hands in his jean pockets, sheepishly. His smile was bright. He wore a pair of wide wire rim glasses. He had dark hair, and a darker complexion than Sirius and Andy. A cowboy hat hung lazily from a thread around his neck and rested on his back.
“It’ll just be us three tonight, the rest are busy,” Andy said, then she gestured to the man in glasses. “This is James. James, meet Sirius.”
Sirius reached his hand to shake James’, but James was there with a hug in a moment, patting Sirius on the back. Sirius returned the hug, a bit startled at the sudden affection. “Welcome to Oregon,” he said as he let go.
“Thank you.” Sirius nodded.
“Drop the pleasantries, brother. We’re all family here,” Andy laughed a little. “I’d have thought you lost your manners years ago.”
“Clearly you’ve shoved yours right up your–”
“I’m starvin’,” Andy cut him off. “Let’s eat.”
“Point proven,” Sirius called after her, earning an amused snicker from James.
The food stood ready for them to eat on the table. Roast with mashed potatoes. Sirius found himself rather enjoying the simplicity of the humble life at Alphard’s ranch.
Pollux’s ranch, he reminded himself, grandfather’s ranch.
Andy and James filled their plates generously with food. They both urged Sirius to do the same. “Don’t mind if I do,” he mumbled as he, too, filled his plate with meat and mashed potatoes.
The meat was cooked perfectly. It was tender. His stomach cried with joy as he ate. While the meal looked simpler than anything he had ever been served back in his family’s house, it tasted better than anything he’d ever eaten before. There was something magical and warm to it, something that made him so inexplicably happy. Maybe he was simply a starving man, or maybe there was some special ingredient that you could only find among the open fields of Oregon– either way, he stuffed the next bite into his mouth before he’d even finished chewing the last.
“God,” he said as they ate. “I did not realise how famished I was.”
“Famished,” James echoed with his mouth full of mashed potatoes, before swallowing. “He sounds just like you Andy. You know how you were always spittin’ out big words left and right in the beginning?”
“I had to explain to ya’ll three times what ‘ubiquitous’ means.” She shook her head fondly.
“I still don’t know how to say it.”
“So you are a cowboy, then?” Sirius asked, taking a sip of whatever was in his glass. It was bitter– cheap alcohol. Probably locally produced on the farm. He forced himself to swallow, and then swore at himself. Just because he was used to the fine wine of his parents’ dinner parties did not mean that he could go around expecting it elsewhere.
James breathed a quick laugh. He poked around in his mash with his knife. “Sorry to disappoint you, partner. But my mama would’ve had my ass beaten before I even considered becomin’ an outlaw.”
Sirius looked down, knowing his mother would have done the exact same. Mothers, everywhere.
“Effie used to work here, actually,” Andy said suddenly.
“Sure did. And her mama before that.”
“Is Effie your mother?”
“Mm,” James confirmed, taking a sip of his beer.
A generational home. Sirius looked around. Family history was written into the walls— their stories etched into each crack and piece of chipped paint. James’ family had existed there since long before Pollux’s time. Something vicious and green twisted itself in his stomach when he realized that James’ family had spent more time with Alphard than he had.
“James’ parents had to leave when Cygnus took the reins,” Andy said. The air shifted. The mention of her father turned the previously warm room cold and stale. “A lot of things changed after that.”
And there it was again, the ghost, the quiet aching of each floorboard and window. Sirius knew it well. He had spent the last eleven months trying to navigate it. “I am sorry,” he said and looked between his cousin and James.
James looked solemn, too, and Sirius’ only jealousy grew. Its wretched vines tied themselves around his throat like a noose. James had loved Alphard, too. The ranch had loved Alphard, known him, lived with him, laughed with him. The only thing Sirius had was a birthday visit here and there. But these people— these filthy nobodies— had been his family.
While Sirius mourned the moments they never got to have, James mourned the moments he’d never get to relive. Selfish, greedy, dirty, filthy, thief, scum, swine, bastard—
Something poked Sirius' foot under the table, breaking him out of his trance. He looked up, and found James looking at him with big eyes. “You look like you’ve been through the mill. Don’t worry, friend, we’ll still have us a hog killin’ time this summer.” He smiled brightly.
Sirius swallowed. He had not understood a single word that left the man’s mouth. “Pardon?”
Andy and James shared a look, before bursting into laughter.
“You’ve got lots to learn, brother.”
Sirius sunk further down into his seat.
It was going to be a long summer.
–
The moonlight cast a soft glow over the tiny room. Sirius laid awake, staring up at the ceiling. He traced the patterns in the wood with his eyes over and over again, and tried to find as many shapes as possible. So far, he had found a face, a rabbit, and a rose. It was like cloud gazing, except inside, and within a confined space, late at night, next to a total stranger.
They’d done nothing but say “hey” to each other. Sirius only saw his roommate once after their strange first meeting. He headed upstairs after dinner, to get ready for bed. He had opened the door, wincing as it creaked. When he opened it, he found the roommate already laying on his bed on the left side. He had glanced up at Sirius, before turning to blow out the candle on his nightstand. Then, he turned to lay on his side, facing the wall, leaving Sirius with nothing to do but once again stare at his back.
It was late spring, and Sirius was thankful that it was still chilly enough during the nights that he could wear his night linens to bed. He did not dare think what it would be like to have to share his chamber with another man— while also having to sleep in nothing but his underwear.
The man had not moved since that encounter, and Sirius was sure that he’d fallen asleep a very long time ago.
Sirius envied him. He wished he could fall asleep. He was exhausted after his first day, but his mind was a whirlwind of emotions and impressions that left him restless and unable to relax. A part of him almost missed the empty darkness of the Black manor, which was stupid, because he had spent so many sleepless nights there, wishing to be somewhere warmer. But he could not help it. There were too many things to look at in the cottage– the stripes on the walls, the white lace curtains, the intricate detail of the wooden drawers, the rabbit shaped pattern in the ceiling, the sleeping back of his mysterious roommate, and the mysterious satchel he carried.
Sirius was many things, but he was not a liar— and to say that he was not at least a little bit intrigued by the man on the other side of the room would have been a lie. Naturally, he wished to get to know the stranger he would be sharing a room with for the next few months. What was his name? What was up with that scar? Where were all of his belongings? And why, oh why, did he detest Sirius so?