The crash was distinctive. No simple poof, but a loud thud, followed by the sound of clattering trinkets and broken glass. Sirius hadn’t meant to fall over the coffee table, he hadn’t meant to fall but how could he not have? His body was hardly his own.
Hurried footsteps approached the entryway to the front room where the fireplace was kept. Sirius could hear someone speaking, but he couldn’t place what they were saying. His name? A call for help? Vitriol? He wasn’t sure, it was all muffled garbage.
There were hands on him. Knives burrowed into his shoulder where the gentle hand made contact with skin. Sirius screamed. He flailed, but he barely noticed. Muscle control was not a skill Sirius currently had.
He didn’t remember how he got onto the sofa, but when the cold compress was pressed to his face, Sirius was securely off of the floor. He flinched again once the compress made contact, but surprisingly didn’t hit anyone this time. Still, his body shook.
“Good job, mate. You’re alright.” It was James. Sirius knew it was James because he knew the Potter’s house. He knew this sofa, and the carpet underneath. He knew the coffee table and the bookshelves and the curtains. He knew the smells and the sounds. He was only just now adjusting to processing that all. Just moments ago he was on wooden floor, miles away in London, praying for a moment of relief.
Sirius’s shoulder jerked, his arm flew out beside him. It was grabbed and stilled. James again.
“You’re bleeding, dear.” Mrs. Potter. The cold compress moved from his lip to his forehead. She tutted, worry heavy in her voice. “What happened to you?”
Sirius whimpered, but he didn’t respond. Mrs. Potter continued to dab at the visible wounds. James and Mrs. P continued to chat between themselves, something to distract the two of them, something to ground Sirius. It took a few minutes for the words to sound distinctive, more than mumbled. It took several minutes for the ringing in his ears to dull.
“Can you hear me, love?” Mrs. Potter asked. “Can you let me know if you do?”
It took him several seconds, but Sirius nodded. Both Potters to either side of Sirius visibly relaxed when he became responsive. Their comfort only lasted seconds, though. Nodding had triggered something. Sirius’s head jerked to the side, he flinched. His face twisted in pain and for a few seconds, fire coated his nerves sliding starting at his neck and sliding down his back. Everything was tense until it wasn’t. When the feeling passed, Sirius slumped limply against James.
There was an arm around him, rubbing his back. That did little to help him, the hand ran over sores and bruises and made Sirius contort even more. James was quick to pull his hand away, leaving Sirius curled up into himself, biting his lip as he tried not to cry.
“Can you walk?” Mrs. Potter asked gently. Her face was down at Sirius’s height. It took him a moment to hear her, to connect the words she said with any meaning. Sirius wasn’t sure if he could walk, he hadn’t tried since getting here. His legs hurt just as much as any other part of his body, but those were still able to move.
With a shuttering breath, Sirius nodded. Careful hands hovered near his unsteady body. It was James who took Sirius’s hand first and guided his arm around his friends shoulders when little more than falling forward happened at Sirius’s attempt. Mrs. Potter followed suit and the three of them slowly stood.
Both of the Potters were shorter than Sirius. It wasn’t the most graceful transfer, and it certainly wasn’t pretty, but the two of them were strong and it wasn’t long before Sirius was sitting at the head of the kitchen table, chair turned out and facing the stove. Mrs. Potter put the kettle on while James went off in search of clothes and other supplies his mother had sent him to retrieve.
“You’re going to be alright, dear.” Mrs. Potter glided around the kitchen with swift grace. She set another pot on the stove, Sirius didn’t pay attention to what was in it.
“Are you in pain?” Mrs. Potter was patient, she watched Sirius from across the small kitchen with careful concern. He didn’t nod, not at first. But she knew to grab a pain potion as soon as she saw the boy begin to gnaw on his lower lip to keep the tears welling in his eyes from spilling.
“Alright, you’re okay.” She soothed as she pulled up a chair and sat next to Sirius. His shaking hadn’t stopped any, she doubted that he’d be able to hold his own potion. Gentle shushing filled the air with a calm heaviness. Sirius happily drank the potion as it was brought to his lips. The anxious whine that escaped his throat was from habit, not a lack of trust from her.
She continued to shush him, praising him as he swallowed the potion. Her hand came up to his hair, finding bloodied mats, tangles, and areas where it had been unceremoniously chopped off to different lengths. Her heart sank, she pulled him closer and kissed the top of his head.
“You’re safe here.”
Sirius laid his head against her shoulder and began to weep.
James returned with a box full of supplies. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Sirius crying. Sirius was emotional, yes. But he rarely showed tears in front of others-even James. He’d been taught that was unacceptable, not something someone of the noble house Black would do in public. He’d learn to shut that part of him off. But right now? Sirius had never looked so small.
Getting Sirius cleaned up was a slow process. They had to wait for Sirius to stop crying before Mrs. Potter could peel herself away and get her supplies properly set up. James helped coax Sirius into getting his shirt off, undoing the buttons himself and sliding the shirt down and off his back. It was no easy task, either. Gummied blood stuck to open red wounds along Sirius’s back. Pulling at it wrong would trigger Sirius to contort in a way that only seemed to hurt him more. Twice he jerked his arms in a way that tore open lacerations that looked like they’d been nearly healed before today. Sirius was weak, too. He seemed to fade in and out of awareness, James put a lot of effort into helping Sirius stay upright. He had yet to say a single word.
Mrs. Potter was gentle. Her hands were slow and careful and deliberate as she worked warm water over Sirius’s oozing wounds. She whispered protection spells and healing magic over him. She rubbed home made ointments into his skin to fight off infection and reduce swelling. She used just a dab of dittany to help the gashes along his shoulder blades heal up. If they were lucky, they should be scars by tomorrow. But that’s only if they’re lucky.
James hadn’t had the training his mother had. He do my ever seen her tend to his scraped knees and bloody noses, he hadn’t realized how practiced she would be for this moment. He tried to watch her in all her wisdom, but it was his job to keep Sirius steady, so that’s what he did. He sat next to his best friend and made sure he didn’t topple over the wrong way. He held his hand, told him it would be alright. He asked Sirius if he’d gotten any highlights of the quidditch season so far. He wasn’t ever too sure how much Sirius was listening to him, but James easily spent an hour reviewing the whole season to him-well, the parts he’d like anyway. When Sirius’s back was finally cleaned and bandaged, James helped him into the largest and softest t-shirt he owned. Sirius wasn’t shaking as hard as he was when he first got here, but it anyone within arms reach still had to watch and make sure they wouldn’t accidentally be punched by a rogue spasm.
“Go write your father, beta” Mrs. Potter urged James once Sirius was dressed in cleaner clothes. “Tell him we’ve company. Then go set up the guest room, hmm? Fresh sheets.”
James did as he was told and was off. Mrs. Potter stayed with Sirius. She set up a bowl with warm water, shallow and large. She rolled towels along it, and draped one around Sirius’s shoulders. She helped him lean back, she cleared the blood from his hair.
There was no fixing its choppy unevenness, Mrs. Potter was no beautician and it was the least of their worries. With any luck it would magically grow back in a day or two, but that would only happen if Sirius really wanted it to, if he was able to. The boy couldn’t walk or speak, she hadn’t yet assessed if he still had his magical capabilities. She was handling one emergency at a time.
She hummed quietly as she worked at the stove. Sirius didn’t raise his head to watch her. His eyes stayed focused downward, trying to keep himself from triggering another spasm. Even without the grandiose exaggerations, his fingers couldn’t seem to decide if they wanted to be stiff straight or curled tightly inward. His face kept changing expression, a nose or moth twitch or a jerk of the head. His legs shook, but if they jiggled up and down they didn’t kick as often. He could hear Mrs. Potter humming. He was getting better.
“Eat, beta.” A spoonful of something was at Sirius’s lips. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Sirius listened to the mother and opened his mouth. It wasn’t anything special by Mrs. Potter’s standards, but the daal brought to Sirius’s lips was the most flavorful thing he’d had in ages. It was flavored in such a way that his whole body felt warmer after swallowing it. He wondered if she put magic in it or if that’s just what home cooked food is supposed to feel like. He managed four whole spoonfuls. He knew he would get teased about it later, but it was the most delicious four spoonfuls of food he’d ever had. It helped ease the shaking, helped him stay more grounded into reality.
“Are you still in pain?” She asked after she noticed how his body started to still. He was still shaking, but it was an improvement.
Sirius was still in pain, but not enough to worry about. The potion had helped, the food had helped. Everything hurt, but it was a dull, full body ache. Remus said he had that a lot and there wasn’t much that could be done for it. Sirius shook his head no. It was nice to see Mrs. Potter smile.
“Sirius, dear” Mrs. P started a few minutes after Sirius started refusing more food. It was good, but he couldn’t eat that much that fast. “What happened to you?”
Sirius didn’t respond. How could he? Part of him thought it was obvious, another part of him couldn’t even begin to describe what had happened. Did she mean what had happened just today or did she want a detailed account of everything that happened over the summer? Even with that direction, Sirius didn’t know where to start. He tried to think about the question, but he didn’t arrive at an answer. He remembered his mother’s voice. He remembered the deep sigh that accompanied the release of the impirio curse after family dinners, he remembered the sound of his bedroom door locking behind him. He remembered the door opening quickly and unexpectedly, he remembered yelling. He remembered falling down the stairs, he remembered crackling light coming from her wand, then he remembered pain.
Sirius flinched, he wrapped one arm around himself, his fingers digging into his other arm to keep him closed off. It was the closest thing to a hug he could manage.
“Don’t ask him that.” James said, standing in the kitchen doorway. “Look at him!”
Mrs. Potter scowled at her son, but she understood the sentiment. She sighed. She asked a question she was already certain she knew the answer to.
“Sirius, are you safe at home?”
Safety was a funny word to choose. Home was even funnier. Sirius had no home. He’d been burnt off of the family tapestry, told never to come back. And for what? For loving a boy? Or for loving one who wasn’t pure of blood? A monster, even. Sirius’s gut twisted. He felt fear and anxiety and guilt and rage. He opened his mouth, certain that what would erupt were the screams he’d been forced to hold in for weeks.
Instead he retched and the four spoonfuls of food Mrs. Potter had managed to get Sirius to swallow not long ago made a reappearance on the kitchen floor.
Mrs. Potter gasped, Sirius shuttered, James bit his lip in concern. The vomit was vanished away with a flick of Mrs. Potter’s wand, replaced by a bin not long later at James’s hand. James took his mother’s place sitting next to Sirius, who was still shaking noticeably.
“You don’t have to go back there” James promised, cutting through the sounds of Mrs. Potter singing as she put the kettle back on and went to work. “This is your home now, okay? We’ll be brothers. Would you like that?”
Sirius didn’t nod, but the trace of a smile ghosted his face. James took that as confirmation enough. Sirius still didn’t say anything, but nobody asked him to. Not today. The kitchen stayed busy but quiet. Mrs. Potter hummed to herself as she worked, James draped a blanket over Sirius’s shoulders, he sipped at his own cup of chai, prompting Sirius to sip at his tea every few minutes.
The second crash of the night through the Potter’s fireplace was disruptive once more. Sirius jumped, but James was quick to reassure him.
“I’ll be right back. Everything’s fine.” He disappeared into the front room.
Remus Lupin was standing in the middle of the room, dusting himself off in a rather hurried fashion when James met him.
“I came as soon as I could.” His tone was rushed, his breathing fast and labored. James had written to his father as instructed, but he’d also written to Moony-both by owl and magic parchment.
“He’s doing okay. Better.”
That wasn’t very comforting to the other. “You said he was hurt.”
“He still is” James replied. “But he’s not bleeding anymore. Not shaking as bad either.”
“What happened?”
Silence. James didn’t want to say it, he didn’t know exactly what happened but he could guess. He shrugged and shook his head.
“He came crashing through here right as we were cleaning up from dinner. He was shaking, like….like his muscles didn’t know how to move. And bleeding. Mum’s stopped the bleeding.”
“What has he said?”
“He hasn’t.” James was quick to reply. “Hasn’t said a thing. He can nod yes and no sometimes, but he’s not always there. He got sick when Mum asked him about home.”
Both of the boys felt their stomachs churn at the idea. What had happened to Sirius was unforgivable. Remus turned and walked towards the kitchen where he could hear Mrs. Potter still humming quietly.
Remus hadn’t known what to expect in finding Sirius. He could tell that they’d done quite a bit of work in cleaning Sirius up, and for that Remus was thankful. But he looked hollow and lost. He was pale-paler than usual, and he couldn’t stop shaking. He watched as Sirius winced, nearly hitting Mrs. Potter as she tried offering him another sip of his tea. He bit his lip and looked down as if to say sorry. Remus had never seen Sirius looking so small. He crossed the space between the kitchen entry and Sirius. While Remus’s body was achy and sore, he chose to sat on the floor where he might have more luck catching Sirius’s eye line.
Sirius’s eyes didn’t want to meet much, but they caught attention of Remus’s hand- large and scarred and sitting patiently in front of Sirius. Sirius remembered the things his parents would say at dinner, while Sirius was trapped in his seat with a smile on his face that wasn’t his own. Beasts, all of them. his other would say the registry isn’t enough his father would agree over bloodied meat and boiled vegetables. The fact that we allow them to walk around unidentified? Absolutely preposterous. A danger to our children! Sirius would feel his blood boil, he would try and rebel, to say anything, but the more he raged the more force his mother spent in controlling him.
Sirius looks beyond the hand and follows his gaze up Remus’s arm. He watched as Remus’s chest rose and fell with each breath, none of them labored or in pain. Sirius tried not to remember the threats he’d heard his mother say about beasts like Remus. He tried not to think about the comments she would make when she knew Sirius was listening, the ones that made Sirius worry Remus was in trouble, the comments that alluded that she knew. Eventually, Sirius’s eyes made contact with Remus’s.
Remus was there. Remus was alive. Remus was here.
Relief flooded Sirius first, pushing his mouth into a smile and filling his tear ducts. Anxiety spiked after that, then concern and confusion. When Remus smiled back at him, relief came back. One shaky hand reached out towards the other’s, tears fell down Sirius’s cheek as it was held in both of Remus’s.
“M-Moony!” He whimpered.
Slowly, then all at once, Sirius slid out of his chair. He abandoned his blanket and pushed himself into Remus’s lap. His hands arms wrapped around Remus’s, his fingers digging into the fabric of Remus’s shirt, willing himself to hold onto the other with everything he had.
The room was silent save for the sound of Sirius’s sobs. James looked at his mother, both of them in shock. He turned to look at Remus, but all of his attention was on Sirius. Remus didn’t know what to say, so he held Sirius as he shook. He took deep breaths, to remind Sirius to breathe, and he held Sirius close, not letting him jerk and twitch away. The two of them rocked, Remus shushed Sirius as gently as he could. Sirius continued to cry, he continued to sob Moony over and over again.
All the Potter’s could do was watch as Sirius eventually stopped crying. They sat in awe as Remus coaxed Sirius into drinking an entire cup of tea and sleeping draught to help him get the rest he deserved. James smiled as Remus pulled a square of chocolate out of his pocket and offered it to Sirius, who happily took it. They helped get Sirius upstairs and into the guest room, which was now his for as long as he needed.
James was right to have messaged Remus as soon as they did. James and his family could keep Sirius safe, housed, and fed, but Sirius needed Remus to heal.