Rage

 December 25, 1971. Sirius. 9:34 pm.

   Sirius was shocked at how small Hope was. Already, Remus and Romulus were slightly taller than her. However, there was no mistaking that they were her sons. For one, Remus shared her eyes, and they both had unruly brown hair. The more Sirius looked at her, the more questions he had, and the more angry he was getting at the boys' father. He now understood why they liked to go home every month to check on her. 

   There were burn marks up her arms, and bruising on her cheek, both of which were new. She also had many scars, almost as much as the twins. She walked with a slight limp, and seemed to need to lean on stuff every so often. There were tears in her clothes, which were very old and worn, however surprisingly taken care of. What was the worst though, was that she had light bruising around her neck.

   Sirius tried to ignore it.

   "James, right?" she spoke. At first Sirius didn't react, but then he realized she was speaking to him.

   "Oh, sorry. No, I'm actually Sirius," he said. She seemed confused for a second.

   "Well I would hope you're serious, as that apparently isn't your name. What is your name, young man?" she said. Sirius suppressed a giggle at her sincerity.

   "No, that's my name," he said, laughing slightly, "Sirius." A look of confusion, then understanding, then embarrassment crossed her features. She made an 'Ohh' kinda face, then went off to go help their house elf, Winkle, prepare a late dinner for Hope. Sirius found that slightly odd, as did everyone except the twins. Sirius had actually seen the twins offer to help her, as they felt bad about her doing all the housework, and she said she was ever grateful for the offer, but would prefer to work alone.

   This was further proved by Hope returning less than three minutes later.

   Sirius sat with Romulus for a bit, and was surprised when he initiated a conversation with him. 

   "I'm surprised she came down here to see us. And I'm shocked she knew where to go," he said, confusion crossing his face.

   "Me too. Normally only friends of the Potters or coworkers can ever find here," Sirius said. He looked over at the taller boy, noting he seemed far more relaxed than normal. It was cute how much he loved his mother. Sirius was disgusted with himself to feel envy towards it. Why couldn't his mother love him? He had tried for years to be perfect for her and his father. It wasn't till Andromeda was disowned for loving a muggle that he realized that these people who called themselves his family were monsters who were incapable of love. He wondered if that had passed down to him. He wondered if he'd ever love. For some reason, he thought of Remus.

   "Perhaps she remembered the address from when me and Remus had to Floo here," Romulus said, mostly to himself though. Sirius saw his friends eyes grow darker, solemn, as he remembered that night. Sirius too, went quiet. He had dreamt of that night. Remus and Romulus tumbling through the fireplace, bloodied and torn clothes.

   "Most likely. It's good she's meeting the Potters'. They're great people," Sirius said numbly, too uncomfortable to continue sitting in silence. 

   Hope went for the front door at that moment, and Romulus saw. Sirius saw the boy start to get up, but Hope shut that down rather quickly. 

   "You stay seated. You need to rest," she spoke. Her words were soft yet stern, and Romulus must've thought the same by the way he plopped back down.

   "You're not leaving already, are you?" Romulus seemed slightly hurt by this.

   "No, no not yet. The Potter's offered to let me stay the night so I'm not driving home in the dark in a storm. I just need to grab something," she said. She winked at Romulus before disappearing out the mahogany door. He and Rom continued to sit beside each other in silence. Sirius kept wiggling, uncomfortable in the silence, however Rom seemed completely unaware, sitting relaxed and staring at the fire, seeming to be deep in thought.

   The door opened what seemed an eternity later, and with a grunt, Hope sat down what looked like a box with a stick attached to it. This assumption was short-lived, however, when Rom shouted, "Is that our record player!?"