Broken Star
He would have welcomed snide comments at this point. Anything rather than looking into his Moony's- no, not his anymore. Remus, now.
Anything rather than looking into Remus' eyes and seeing the same expressions of his mother, each time she had wished he was never born. To say he never felt the same would be an utter lie, but before this, the marauders had helped him through it. Hatred, wishing to beat him into a pulp. The others were no better, though.
Peter, turning decidedly away from Sirius whenever they saw each other, and purposely spilling his ink all over Sirius' bed, when failing to complete his Transfiguration essay, was enough to make Sirius cry every night while sleeping on the ink-stained sheets. A simple spell would have easily cleared it off, but Sirius knew he deserved this.
Lily's hateful face, and her quiet, powerful jinxes and hexes always aimed at him were painful too, especially when Remus started laughing at them.
James. James' disappointment. His saddened eyes as he was torn between his "brother" and his friends.
Like a ghost, long forgotten, he haunted the castle, skipping meals, sitting at the front of classes, where the other Marauders never would, to immediately leave to the next lesson. When that was over, he barricaded himself in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, always "out of order." Sometimes Myrtle and him would talk to each other, and she would chide him about how skinny he was, and how little he ate. Other times, he sat and sobbed selfishly, wishing he could claw his skin off.
So he did.
He stabbed a quill into his skin, again and again and again, until the ink refused to flow out, and doing that until Myrtle nearly got a teacher. She tried to pry it out of his hands, but being a ghost, it just made him cold.
And that's how he lived for a month or so, during those early spring days. They could have been weeks, maybe three, maybe some months- Sirius didn't know. Time was slipping. He would sneak into the dorm when he desperately needed a shower, always turning it to the coldest setting possible- once he almost caught sick from it, and would have had to go to the Hospital Wing: but it was nearing a full moon, if he saw Remus there he'd end it all on sight. Detention with McGonagall, getting kicked off the Quidditch team and Hogsmeade privileges being revoked weren't enough punishment for him.
One time, Remus caught him when he was about to leave the dorms- he hadn't showered in a week, he was weak, barely awake.
"Oh it's you." he spat, venom sewn throughout his voice. "What are you doing back here?"
Sirius' eyes enlarged in fear, as he barely stuttered out an apology.
"R- Remus I'm s- sorry- I'm sorry for uhh disturbing you i'll go now I'm sorry for everything-"
Remus narrowed his eyes at him.
"If you're actually sorry, then give me the fucking map."
He dared to look up a second at that- self-serving shock sewn through his increasingly gaunt features.
"Cachgi." Remus snapped. Fuck, he only ever used Welsh curses when he was ready to murder someone. "Give me the map, Sirius."
Sirius wanted to say he was sorry, but the words jammed in his throat. He silently reached into his bag, hands vehemently shaking, burning like he was a vampire gripping holy water, and gave the slip of parchment to Remus.
"im so sorry" whispered Sirius, barely audible.
Remus bent low and stage whispered back
"Dont worry, dog. Your parents would be so proud of you for what you did- they might even hate you less when you go home! No one would ever hurt the spitting image of themselves. Though- your stupid attention whore attempts at self-destruction might've proved me wrong there, Black."
Sirius shook his head ever so slightly, rooted in one spot. No. It couldn't be Remus saying this- not the same boy who held him close when letters from his mother arrived, or when a new dozen bruises appeared on his body after summer.
Remus snarled, stepped forward- and slapped him. Hard.
And it felt worse than any hurt he had ever received.
Sirius ran.