It was cold for late July.
That is all Sirius could think about as he jerkily flew his broom through the inky night. Icy rain stung his cheeks, and the winds kept whipping his hair in his eyes. If that didn’t make it hard enough to see, it was a new moon, so he could hardly even see his own hand in front of his face. Stars in their neat constellations littered the sky
(Orion was gleaming, mocking him)
Dull lights from the small towns below him lit his way to the Potter manor, and Sirius prayed to whatever was out there that he correctly remembered the way in his disoriented state. During one of Sirius’s brief visits to the sprawling estate, he and James raced to see who could go the highest on their brooms. When the air got too thin, they just floated there, and you could almost see all of Britain from up there. From up that high Grimmauld Place looked like a tiny dark speck, yet a dark cloud still seemed to hang over it. It almost looked like a little ant from up, and Sirius wished he could just step on it, forget it ever existed. Eventually, they came down, where Euphemia and Fleamont were fuming.
(Muggles could have seen them for Merlin’s sake! What were they thinking?!)
He remembered the icy chill, frozen in place, waiting for the pain, hexes, the screaming. But, it never came. The Potters just squeezed him and James tight, made them promise to never scare them like that again. Sirius almost threw up on their shoes.
Now, Sirius was cold, disoriented, and could barely stay upright on his broom. He was shaking, cold, and wet, involuntarily jerking with the lingering effects of the dark magic coursing through his body. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, aches and pains in places he didn’t even know should hurt right now made focusing nearly impossible. He was starting to lose hope, convinced he was stupidly going in the wrong direction, that he would sooner end up circling back to Grimmauld Place, crashing to his doom before reaching the warm embrace of the Potters.
Yet, when all hope was nearly lost, he saw the familiar twinkling lights. The marble home faded into view, his broom was rapidly descending and Sirius was losing control. Sweaty hands white knuckled the broomstick, every muscle tensed as he braced for his unceremonious crash landing.
Suddenly, he was eating dirt. Rolling in the soft grass, everything burned. He eventually came to a stop laying on his back, forced to stare at the clear night sky. Sirius burned bright next to Orion, forced to forever linger in its shadow. Tears started to trickle down the side of his face, his throat burned and lip started to quiver. Exhaustion weighed him down, he couldn’t get up to knock on that door. Sirius thought that it wouldn’t be horrible to just keel over here, and fade away within feet of safety. He was so cold, so tired, he could just stop and sleep-
“...Hello?” a sleepy voice muttered.
Sirius didn’t even need to roll his head to have the vision of James, hair somehow messier than usual, pajamas crumpled, and glasses sitting slightly askew on his face. He was always a light sleeper, so it makes sense that Sirius’s crash would have woken him.
“What the… Sirius?”
The fuzzy image of his best friend eclipsed Orion, his groggy grimace quickly being replaced by immense worry.
“Shit! What did they do to you, Padfoot?”
Embarrassingly, for once in his life Sirius couldn’t find the words. All he could muster was a pathetic groan, the lump in his throat blocking any words that were trying to escape. More tears wet his cheeks as he begged them to stop, he usually wasn’t much of a crier, but he just couldn’t make them stop.
“Here mate, I’ve got you,”
Suddenly, Sirius was being hauled up by his armpits, his world was tilting and the next thing he knew bright lights were burning his eyes as James carried him like a bride into the warm and welcoming house. He was gently placed onto a cushy couch, almost sinking entirely into the cushions. He must have looked worse in the light, as James looked to be on the brink of tears himself.
“I should go get Mum and Dad, they’ll be able to fix this,”
The idea of more people seeing him in this vulnerable state made start shuddering with sobs. He just wanted to curl up and sink into the couch, just to stop existing for a bit. James seemed to hesitate for a bit to leave, however briefly, in this vulnerable state. Eventually, the padding of his feet away told him he finally realized he needed his parents.
Sirius must have lost time again, because suddenly two pairs of warm brown eyes looked down at him, sick with concern. This only made Sirius cry harder. They hardly knew him, yet they looked at him with more care and love than his parents did in fourteen years.
“Oh honey, it's okay, you're safe now,” reassured Euphemia, gentle fingers lightly brushing through his hair, careful to avoid the spots crusted with blood.
Sirius couldn’t stop shaking, despite him being quickly warmed once inside. His nerves felt fried, his limbs occasionally jerked without his consent, he felt like hurling, and his face felt like it had its own heartbeat, the swelling and bruising setting in. Gentle hands helped him sit up, and a vile was put up to his lips.
“Drink this sweetie, it will help you feel better,”
He reluctantly opened his mouth, allowing the sweet potion to flow down his throat. Euphemia didn’t lie, thankfully
(It wasn’t like the potion Mother forced down his throat when she found Regulus had snuck him some food, forcing him to vomit up what felt like everything he has ever eaten)
He felt his body relax, the shivering toning down a bit. His eyes felt impossibly heavy, and he could feel himself slowly slumping into unconsciousness.
“It's okay, you can rest now,”
Sirius happily obliged, letting himself fully welcome sleep at last. Remaining in a bit of a liminal space between sleep and wake, vaguely feeling soft prickles and whispers of spells, healing his aches and pains. A familiar hand squeezed his own. Sniffles and mumbles of reassurances fluttered about until the gentle activity lulled him into a deep sleep.
~~~~~
It took days until Sirius was able to be awake and hold a conversation for a reasonable amount of time. The shaking didn’t go away, but it had certainly gotten better since the broom ride. James wouldn’t leave him alone, constantly fretting about him, making sure he was as comfortable as possible. It was strange to adjust to the overprotectiveness of the three Potters, the summer had gotten him all too used to the ignorance and pain.
Guilt wouldn’t stop eating away at him, it was clear Sirius’s state was taking a toll on them. James had ever-growing dark circles under his eyes, clear evidence he was sacrificing his sleep and wellbeing over Sirius. The elder Potters’ worry lines seemed to be growing deeper, they were obviously sick with the thought of how anyone could treat their children like the Black family did.
(It made Sirius similarly sick to think about what it would be like to grow up with loving parents)
Hours and days blurred together in a haze of pain and exhaustion, and he somehow felt worse the better he got physically.
“I’m sorry,” Sirius blurted out one day when James was sitting vigil at his bedside.
“What? You haven’t anything to say sorry about,”
“Don’t lie to me, I-I can see it. I’m making you and your parents miserable. I should be able to go soon, I mean I’m hardly even shaking anymore-”
“Stop, just, stop,” James sighed, he pinched the bridge of his nose, then ran his hand up through his hair.
“You’re my brother, Pads, I love you so much. Seeing what your own parents could do to you, it makes me sick. I should be the one apologizing, I knew you had it rough there, I should’ve made you come here sooner-”
“No, I, barely even told you anything, you really had no way of knowing,”
“I should’ve anyways,”
A silence loomed in between them, both too nervous to break it. In a desperate attempt to hide his upcoming breakdown, he buried his face into his hands. It was too late however, as when his lip started to quiver James pulled him into a tight embrace. Between the gasping hiccups, Sirius found his voice to whisper about the horrors of Grimmauld place,
(The loneliness of being locked in his room, desperate hunger from only being fed the bare minimum. His inability to keep his mouth shut. The cruciatus. The looks of pity from Regulus. His shaky escape with nothing but a broom and the clothes on his back)
The embrace only grew tighter, circles were rubbed into his back and reassurances were mumbled into his ear.
Sirius wanted to scream, punch holes in the wall, to stop crying like a baby. It was unfair. What made him so unloveable? Why couldn’t he be loved like James?
Soon the sobs turned to sniffles, his body started to slump in exhaustion again. He felt almost skinned alive. Raw, vulnerable, and fragile in a way he had never let himself before. It felt like his insides were on display for the whole world to see, in all their ugly, visceral glory.
Before he could let himself worry even more, Sirius let sleep take him again, the sweet darkness a brief respite from life.
~~~~~
Sirius knew James was planning something. While he could get away with lying and getting away with various pranks and mischief with professors, he could never lie to his closest friends.
As the summer grew muggier and inched forward, closer and closer to returning to Hogwarts, James seemed to grow almost giddy. At first, Sirius just told himself he was happy that he was getting better. He could walk around, eat, talk, and play quidditch, it was almost as though nothing had happened. The only remnants that had remained was a slight tingling in his fingers and toes. Euphemia said it would be like that for a while (maybe forever), the damage that the unforgivable curse caused would take lots of time to mend.
However, Sirius’s suspicions were confirmed about a week from the start of term, when James burst into his room early one morning.
“Morning Padfoot! Lovely day, isn’t it?”
Sirius only groaned when the curtains were shoved open, the bright sunlight invading.
“Ughh, it's like six in the morning, Prongs,” grumbled Sirius, throwing the covers over his head.
“It's ten in the morning, actually. Besides, do you really want to keep our guests waiting?”
“What? Guests-”
Before he had any more time to process, Remus and Peter trampled in, smiling wide. He knew they tried to hide it, but their smiles slipped briefly when they saw him. It had even shocked himself the first time he looked in a mirror after he escaped to the Potters. His cheekbones always stuck out a bit, but he looked gaunt and sickly. He was pale, and bones stuck out everywhere. Over the weeks, even the slashes and bruises caused by dark magic had largely healed, leaving behind scabs and yellow splotches. He had even gained some weight back, but he still must have looked drastically different from the end of last term.
“Bloody hell, tell me you idiots didn’t come all this way just to stare at me,”
“Don’t flatter yourself, I’m just shocked how you look more and more like a dog every year,” quipped Remus.
Relieved by the broken tension, Sirius felt his shoulders relax and a grin creep onto his face. He launched himself out of bed, and half-tackled half hugged his friends.
“Missed you guys,”
Sirius pulled back for a moment, taking in the presence of his friends. He could tell they all looked at him differently. James looked at him with pity. Peter looked terrified, like he’d sooner die than cross the Black family and face a similar punishment. Remus, however, it felt like he was looking directly into his soul. There wasn’t any pity or fear, but instead a sense of understanding, like he had finally put together the puzzle pieces of Sirius Black.
It made Sirius squirmy and nervous, he broke their eye contact and failed to stop the blood rushing to his cheeks.
“Now are we gonna go play Quidditch or what?”
~~~~
Hours had passed, and Sirius had long taken flopping down in the grass. His stamina wasn’t what it used to be, and he quickly grew frustrated when it felt even Peter could fly laps around him. He found peace in watching his friends fly about, hitting a bludger back and forth as the sun began to set. Stars began to twinkle and fill the sky, Orion dominated the sky. Sirius frowned. Today was great, fantastic even. But Sirius wasn’t stupid, like Evans might think, he knew something was brewing. Adults whispered to each other, unease was growing. Sirius always trusted his gut and he knew something big was on the horizon. Walburga and Orion had mentioned a ‘Dark Lord’, and seemed giddier than usual through their torture of their eldest son.
Just as the stars were filling the sky, Remus eclipsed them.
“C’mon Siri, I’m famished,”
Taking his hand, he let him help him up. He wasn’t expecting Remus to keep going, throwing Sirius over his shoulder in an impressive display of strength.
Oh.
Giggling and kicking his feet, he put up a half-assed fight to get put down.
Things were about to change, big time. But, for now, maybe Sirius could let himself bask in the moment, allowing himself to get carried away with his friends.