Aprils showers bring may flowers
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
A soft hand wraps around his arm nails dragging up and down in an attempt to soothe something. He can barely feel the hesitant touch but it does the opposite. The drag of nails sends him into a spiral.
The touch was light as a feather a sorry attempt of comfort. A small drag of nails against his skin is too much like the pain of nails in his arms. Black or crimson making small crescents in his pale skin. The stinging pain and the scabs that follow when they heal. Reminiscent of scratches that are easily hidden but take too long to heal and remain like the memories embedded in his head.
Whoever it is doesn’t know that touch won’t calm him.
He can hear the screaming and the smell of blood, it’s different now with Padfoot and all. The coppery smell of blood is now metallic and burns the inside of his nose, he breathes through his mouth to try to lessen the smell. But now he can taste it and he’s not sure which one is worse. His sense of smell is stronger and overwhelming. And even in the fitful sleep, he can smell the bitter scent of rose. Almost so strong it became putrid, more like dying roses. Decaying and rotting until the sweet smell is nauseating and repulsive.
His heart thuds in his chest and his body feels like it’s tearing apart. The blank disappears and transforms into a sorting array of colors that blinds him. He can make out the shape of a distorted figure howling in pain. He collapses to the floor. He’s begging.
To stop. For forgiveness. To wake up.
The screams turned red and he’d drown in the sea of blood.
One he created.
No longer his blood, or screams.
Screams filled with putrid fear, lingered in the air, tainting the sky in red and grey. Curses to his name, as dread hits him in the stomach until he’s frozen in his body. He watches all hell fall apart as he just watches it at the hands of his creation. The mud caked on his face covering the welts and the scrapes that were oozing with blood.
The infirmary. The antiseptic and screaming. The silence. Getting stitched up alone. Knowing who was still in the shack. Knowing he was alone.
A look of horror on his face that he had never seen before, chocolate brown eyes shattered into a million pieces. The innocent becomes a monster.
Sirius did this, he’s the creator. He made the monster.
He wants to fix it, he wants to make it right. But Sirius knows one thing when you create blood on your hand when you strike the hand that saves you. Nothing is right. The sins on his hands will never wash away. No cleaning or purging with make the clean again.
He’s tainted.
Dirty.
He shoots up from the bed looking around the light shining through the room but muddled by a shine of green.
His heart drops.
Green.
It’s all he can see even in the early morning, the light barely trickling in. Magic or not. Silver serpents on the sides as the enchanted torches are held. Dark green lace wallpaper and the smell of dust and mildew. The black wardrobes and trunks and the chandelier-like lights on the top of the ceiling.
He looks around at the dungeon walls around him and the dark sticky feeling. His hands grasped the sheets as his eyes widened. He gets out of the bed ripping his limbs from the sheets and nearly leaping from the bed looking around panicked. Throwing the excess sheets off of his body. His hand comes straight to grip his hair tightly looking around in horror.
“ Are you okay?’ The voice came from the girl in the bed, the bed that wasn’t his. He snapped to look towards her. Her hair was pressed against her cheek as she held up a sheet to her chest. Another bottle rustles in the bed and he counts two. He doesn’t remember them or what they did but that’s not what scares him the most.
He’s not in the Slytherin dorm, or Hufflepuff.
He’s not even in his.
He’s in the Slytherin dorms.
“ What the fuck” He shouted moving to find some sort of clothing from the floor. He’s thankfully in boxers and finds his jeans and pulls them up. He can’t find a shirt but he wouldn’t be surprised if he lost that during the early night. His wand is in the picket of his jeans as he searches for it and he looks around one more time.
“ What did we do” he asked, but he didn’t even want to know.
The girls looked at each other and smiled and his stomach sank and he was forced into a wave of nausea. The shared look filled his gut with disgust as he waited for whatever sly comment they spat out.
“ We had some fun.” They said in unison with a coy smile neither of them attempted to hide.
He snarls his lips curling. “ You fucked a dead corpse you sick bitches” he snapped guilt and disgust raging through his system along with a million thoughts of how this was all a mistake. But he could have told them that. This was all a mistake, his entire life was a big sick fucked up joke.
His existence was a sin.
His entire life had been an existential mistake.
He ripped open the door past pace walked through the common room which was predominantly empty for the most part. A small piece of luck on his part. His skin felt filthy and not just on the outside.
The inside felt grimy like no shower could cleanse it clean.
He wished he had the cloak but he wasn’t even sure who had it. It surely wasn’t him and neither Remus nor James were going to hand it over. They were punishing him.
He nearly got out undetected before he heard someone clear their voice, he dint need to look around to see their face. He knew their voice like he’d known his, the monotoned snotty voice of his little brother.
“ Lost yourself brother” he heard Regulus ask him a hidden presumption wrapped up in the posh accent that had become stronger than his after all the years. His brother’s voice had dropped but remained familiar.
A whisper of the small boy asking him to play chess or to sit and read beside him. Stop. He barely stopped himself from spiraling down the tunnel of memories. Reliving them was as painful as experiencing them.
“ Found myself down the wrong corridor, don’t worry I won’t stay in the snake pit for long. Merlin knows I don’t belong” he spit out; he found his words bitter and almost hurt as he said them.
He had been punished for being sorted into Gryffindor and he had paid that price for the last five years. Every time he stepped back into Grimauld’s place he paid the price. He would never fully pay it off living along with the name of the Gryffindor prince was enough.
He was a disgrace, but the heir. He was replaceable but never replaced. He was a disappointment but not enough to be set free. Her hands were tightening around him like a noose. And it seemed no matter what he was eventually led in the direction of her hands.
“ Everyone knows how much you hate us, peculiar how you were fucking two quite easily though. Easy to get over the color green when it sports a pair of tits” his brother sneered his crude words catching Sirius off guard.
He had been the crude one, the one who needed to wash his mouth out. Regulus had never spoken like him, regulus was a molded version of him but without the flaws.
He was perfection to his mother.
Regulus must have seen the shock on his face and scoffed loudly his arms crossed against his body as he leaned against an oddly placed bookshelf within the common room almost smirking.
Out of the four, the Slytherin’s common room was the most out of date. With old cobblestone and cloth that Merlin and Salazar could have picked out themselves.
Regulus waved to the room, “ I’m not a boy, I have a name that holds weight here. Unlike the disgrace you’ve presented to our family’s house.” Sirius was barely able to hold back the slur of words that his brain spit out. “ You know perhaps Mother would be pleased to hear you were found in the dungeons” he smirked this time, fully with a gleam of the pearly whites they both wore.
But only one seemed cruel.
He looked sadly at his brother. “ you’ll always be a boy regulus, always trying to outrun my shadow. Go tell mummy dearest if you please and tell her that Slytherin pussy isn’t all it’s out to be. Quite prefer a Hufflepuff” he spouted taking pleasure in the way his brother’s face turned red with anger or disgust.
“ Farewell brother,” he said with disgusted bitterness before turning his back and heading off. He ignored the burning in his chest that occurred when looking at his brother. It was a rare event that he even claimed regulus at his brother. So perhaps it was the weakness of seeing him out of the blue or the fact that he didn’t have anyone at the moment.
He was just as alone as his brother seemed, perhaps even more.
He didn’t have class and that was worse. During the week he could at least come back to his dorm and for once not tiptoe around like he wasn’t there. For once he could breathe.
He hated to admit what he did, and how pathetic it made him.
Looking at the latest book Moon—Remus was reading. Looking at the dog-eared pages and the small notes he made. He would place a chocolate bar in Remus’s stash and tuck it back where he found it. He’d take a deep inhale of the sweater Remus shed before changing.
Remus smelled—well like Remus. His clothes smelled slightly of tobacco from the last cigarette that Remus smoked. And like the library, all the books left a distinct smell on Remus. But at the top was chocolate from the sleeve where Remus would accidentally lay his arm on the foil wrapper. And below all that ginger from the shampoo he used.
Sirius found it rare when he felt himself hate the mutated senses he received since gaining Padfoot, but he hated that.
Other days he read James’s last letter back home and shove it back before any tears could land on the paper.
He was pathetic, his life was pathetic and he was a sad dying man.
But today he headed up to McGonagall’s office, if he didn’t he was sure she would pull him from the halls by his ears. He awaited a long scolding and threats of expulsion.
There was a time when that was this largest fear…
Now it would be more like a reprieve but not enough for him to risk it. So he dragged his half-high and hungover self to McGonagall’s office awaiting the largest scolding of the week.
This week was already bad he could smell it in the air.
And even if he couldn’t waking up in the Slytherin dorms was bad enough. Somewhere in his head, he knew this had become a low he hadn’t touched in the last few months. It was rare he had hit rock bottom. But it kept surprising him with how much worse it became.
The corridors were primarily empty, the sun barely trickled through, still rising. Sirius never woke up this early for the most part being u[ at this time was a result of not going to sleep. The castle had become a maze, he walked around for hours. Until his legs could barely hold him up, and he couldn’t even begin to count the times he fell asleep in an alcove.
McGonagall’s office was around the corner and he felt the dread sink into his stomach. He hated the way she looked at him with such pity and sadness. She treated him like glass and dolled out punishment lighter than Sirius had ever witnessed. A reason he was getting called up to her office.
The door was open and he raised his fist to knock on the door altering her to his presence—
“ No need knocking Mr. Black I can see you clear as daylight and even if I couldn’t I could smell you from down the hall. Close the door behind you and take a seat” she said looking up through her glasses as she peeled a test off the stack and off to the side.
He coyly closed the door and took the chair furthest away from her. He was terrified of her more now than ever, the looming lecture of disappointment was too much to bear. He got it every day from the pitying looks from Peter. But from her—
He nervously sat down his leg bouncing up and down without an ounce of effort from him. She was always terrifying but now. From the one womanly figure who hadn’t burned him down, it felt like this had become a solidifying fact.
McGonagall put down the paper pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose as she cleared her voice. “ I will be forward with you if I may Mr. Black” he cringed at his last name, with being called his father’s title. Minnie—she knew this and she used it anyway.
She sighed. “ Parties on school grounds are prohibited” She eyes him before he could retort that they were unpreventable. “ Yes, I understand there is nothing we can do to stop them they’ve been happening for years and will continue to do so. But being how may I phrase it—substantially inebriated during the school day is not acceptable under any circumstance”
“ Is there a point to this” he managed.
She paused her eyes widening at his words. “ A point,” she said slowly as if she hadn’t heard him.
He nodded.
She placed her hands on the desk with a loud smack, “ there certainly is a point to all this. While partying and having fun is not expendable, fun at the expense of others is not acceptable. I’ll be frank you reek of fire whiskey and look no better than nearly headless Nick after they found him dead.” She continued staring at him to emphasize her point.
He sat in the seat uncomfortable fidgeting as he tried not to squirm under her eye. His body twitched and his skin crawled and not just from her.
He dared to look up and sank into the seat.
Professor McGonagall leaned forward her face stern, the lines on her face deeper than he’d ever remembered them to be. “ Unhealthy coping mechanism will never solve your problems. I understand the incident that happened was—I cannot imagine the rift it caused. A the pain you must feel but Sirius you cannot possibly think drinking your sorrows will help. I will be honest even if I’m not sure you can take it, but you need to hear it. You are facing explosions Sirius Black and there’s nothing even I can do to attest to your behavior” she said her accent heavier as she spoke. Her eyes bore into him like some sorry way to snap him out of this.
He was hearing her but in reality, all he could think of was getting expelled.
“ You have not attended a single class in weeks, Professors have noticed a shift and they are trying to reach out. But you decline all help. You’re found out past curfew and out in other houses’ dormitories. You four boys I hate to say” she let out a long sigh. “ You brought a life back to this school that had been lost. I don’t condone your pranking or your rule-breaking. But I do not condone this anymore. If you need support I can give it, I’m sure Mr. Potter—”
“ NO” he snapped. her eyes raised in question but she still didn’t get it.
He bit his life needing a distraction from the welling pain inside. “ They’re not speaking to me” he cleared his voice. “ I promise professor I’m sober I guess I can’t hide the lack of sleep” he lied, “ And I’ll start going to class can’t say anything about how I act in it. Will that suffice” he kept it short Barkley looking at her.
McGonagall shook her head. “ I suppose it’s a start but I remind you this isn’t a threat or warning Sirius. It’s being taken under consideration this week whether not to remove you from school grounds or not. I will warn you that who you are is playing a large role in that. If you were no one unfortunately you’d been gone by now.”
He couldn’t even escape his last name and for once it might be the one thing saving him.
Her voice softened. “ The incident was one thing—a tragic mistake one that I know you would never do again. And I can understand your friend’s feelings but I do not think they’ve just lost all love.”
The reminder of what he had and now didn’t was too much. He abruptly stood up pushing the chair back.
“ I’ll work on that and do my best, perhaps mummy and daddy will finally do something to help. But I don’t need your pity I get enough of that.”
He walked to the door turned the knob and nearly broke it as he slammed it close. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and stormed through the corridors.
There was no going home, Sirius couldn’t do it not with any break. He hadn’t been home longer than two months in five years. He barely survived the summer months. He was getting enough howlers and letters to suffice.
He was on thin ice in every aspect of his life.