Chapter 3
After a month of failed attempts to confront Sirius, James finally cornered him before he could slip away from Charms class. He had had enough. With a burst of determination, James grabbed Sirius by the ear, ignoring the younger boy's protests, and dragged him down the hallway toward an abandoned classroom on the same floor. Sirius struggled, pulling away with all his strength, but James was relentless, not letting go until they were inside, and the door was firmly locked behind them.
The moment the door clicked shut, James released his hold on Sirius's ear. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, the only sound coming from their heavy breathing. Sirius looked at James as if he had just been confronted by a complete stranger. The tan boy stood before him, staring with a mix of concern and something darker—something desperate. It made Sirius freeze, as if the weight of James's gaze was pulling him under.
"Hey, James," Sirius said, his voice small and shaky. "Why'd you drag me in here?"
James's response was quiet, but heavy with unspoken emotions. "Because I'm worried about you, Padfoot." His eyes locked onto Sirius's, and his voice lowered. "You haven’t been eating. You’ve been avoiding us, avoiding everyone. I want to know why."
Sirius took a hesitant step back, though the room was small, and there was nowhere to go. His heart raced. He wanted to bolt, to run, but James was faster, sharper than he'd ever been before, and now he had him cornered.
"I just... I haven’t been hungry," Sirius muttered, eyes darting away from James’s piercing stare. "There’s nothing to worry about."
But the words felt empty, even to him. James didn’t break his gaze, and the intensity of his stare made Sirius feel small. It was the kind of look that made his insides twist, like an invisible hand squeezing his heart. The silence between them grew thick, suffocating.
"You’re lying," James said softly, his voice low but firm, like a quiet command. "And I don’t think I’ve ever heard you lie so badly before."
Sirius opened his mouth to argue, but before he could say anything, his resolve cracked. His eyes welled up with tears. He tried to blink them away, but they fell anyway, hot and silent, running down his cheeks like a betrayal.
"I... I don’t deserve to eat," he whispered, barely audible. The words felt like they had ripped themselves from his chest, sharp and jagged. There was no denying them once they were out.
The room seemed to freeze in the wake of those words. The air thickened, as if someone had cast a silencing spell on the space around them. James felt his breath catch. His chest tightened, and the familiar anger that usually bubbled up whenever Sirius pushed him away gave way to something softer, more unsettling.
Sirius turned his face away, desperate to hide the tears that were now streaming down. He stumbled backward, his legs shaking as he collapsed into the corner of the room, curling into himself as if he could disappear entirely. "I don’t deserve anything," he said, his voice shaking now, barely a whisper. "You should hate me... You and Remus both. I’ve hurt you. I’ve hurt everyone." His breath hitched, and the words tumbled out in a rush, each one more broken than the last. "My parents never cared. They hate me. I pushed Regulus away so he wouldn’t get hurt when I left. You two were all I had left... and I ruined it."
James’s heart lurched in his chest, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t. He could only watch as his best friend fell apart before him, the mask of bravado and cocky grins slipping away entirely, leaving only the raw, vulnerable person underneath.
And then it hit him. This was more than just Sirius hiding away, shutting everyone out. This was something deeper, something he wasn’t ready to face.
Without thinking, James slowly moved toward the crumpled form of his friend. He knelt in front of Sirius, keeping his distance—just close enough to show that he wasn’t going anywhere, but not close enough to make him feel trapped. Then, in a slow, measured motion, James reached out, extending his hand like an offer.
Sirius flinched, recoiling instinctively, his body shaking harder than before. His breath caught in his throat, his eyes wide with panic as he scrambled further into the corner. His entire body was taut with fear. He was suffocating. He needed to escape, but there was no way out.
James’s heart shattered at the sight of his friend in such distress. But he stayed where he was, his hand still extended, and he began to tap a steady rhythm on the floor, like the old times—like he always did when Sirius had a panic attack in their dorm. The rhythm was simple, a gentle beat that mirrored the pulse of a calm heartbeat. He kept it steady, kept it slow, like he was trying to show Sirius that everything was going to be okay. It took a long time—twenty minutes, maybe more—but finally, Sirius’s breath began to even out, the trembling subsiding.
"Feeling better now, Pads?" James asked, his voice thick with concern, though it had softened from before. It was the first time in ages that he’d spoken to Sirius like this—like his friend, his equal.
Sirius didn’t respond right away. He just sat there, staring blankly ahead. But when he did speak, his voice was soft, almost disappointed. "I can breathe again... which is... something."
James frowned, his heart aching. "You’re not supposed to feel like this, Pads," he said gently. "No one should make you feel like you don’t deserve to live. You do deserve to breathe. You deserve to eat. You deserve to be here."
Sirius’s gaze flickered up, meeting James’s eyes for the first time since the confrontation started. There was something in those eyes that made him pause—something fragile, something he hadn’t seen in years.
James’s face softened, his voice thick with emotion. "So, why don’t you deserve to eat, Sirius? Why would you say that?"
Sirius’s shoulders slumped, and the dam finally broke. His voice cracked, as if everything he’d been holding in for so long was pouring out in one relentless flood. "Because I hurt Remus," he whispered, his throat tight. "I hurt you. I hurt everyone who ever gave a damn about me. I pushed you away because I thought... I thought I was better off alone, that I couldn’t hurt anyone else if I was just... gone. But look where it got me."
James didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then, without warning, he scooted closer to Sirius, closing the gap between them. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, pulling him into a tight embrace, holding him like he would never let go.
Sirius’s body went rigid at first, but after a moment, he sank into the warmth of James's arms, his face buried in the crook of his friend’s neck. The comfort felt foreign, too good to be real, but he didn’t pull away. He let himself feel it, feel the love he had been so desperate to escape for so long.
"Nothing," James murmured, his voice barely a whisper against Sirius’s hair, "could ever make me hate you, Padfoot. You’re my best friend. I don’t care what you’ve done, or what you think you deserve. You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here, and I always will be. You’ve hurt people, yes, but you can make things right. We’ll figure this out, together. But you’re not alone in this."