The Fall

Sirius Black stares at his bruised reflection with deep seated self hatred. Specifically, he glares at the bandages restricting his chest and most likely bruising his ribs, which are already sore from the beating he’d just received.

”You want to be a boy? Fine, you’ll be punished like one,” he thinks was his fathers message. He’s unsure, it made less and less sense the longer it went on. Not that it made much sense to begin with.

He prods gently at his bandaged ribs, wondering if it’s worth keeping the bandages on during the entire event tonight.

Who is he kidding? He won’t go without his chest wrapped, he knows that. He wishes there was a spell to make this easier- safer. He’s sure there is, but looking for one would, in turn, out himself. He’s not willing to do that.

Well, Sirius thinks, he never said not to attend the party. He technically confirmed Sirius being a boy by ‘punishing him like one.’ However, he’s been ‘punishing him like a boy’ since Sirius came out. Regardless, Sirius, stubborn and self destructive as ever, spells away the blood on his white dress shirt and pulls it over his bandaged chest. He then pulls on his black vest and black coat, and finally, his tie.

He smooths out his suit in the mirror with a quiet smile. He supposes the one good thing about being small is that Regulus’ clothes fit him despite their age gap.

Sirius thumbs away the blood on his lip, and leaves the washroom.

The Black’s are hosting a Summer Ball for ‘charity’, which really means ‘we fucked up recently and need to cover it up with propaganda about how good we are.’ It’s the first event in a while where they invited anyone from the wizarding world to join, including muggle-borns and half-bloods, meaning most of Sirius’ friends will be there, which is terrifying in and of itself.

Sirius’ friends don’t know he’s transgender.

Sirius came out to his parents years ago- before he even went to Hogwarts. ”It’s either you have two sons, or I come out publicly and everyone knows you have a messed up kid.” They shut up about it pretty fast. They had to move from Paris to London. ”dad always wanted to move to London, mum. Plus, it would be easier to get to Hogwarts,” that’s what Sirius repeated daily during his mother’s two month silence throughout the move.

So, publicly, he is Sirius Black. First born son to Wulburga and Orion Black. Would-be heir of Slytherin if he hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor. (Whoops). Privately, however, is a different story. They still call him by his dead name. They still use his old pronouns. It’s why tonight has the potential of being the worst night of his life; they’d have no problem outing him to his friends.

He has half a mind to stay in his room and mope.

Still, he finds himself meeting James in the hallway, who stares at him with a pinched face. The music downstairs is muffled over the loud chattering from guests; the event has officially started.

“Heard what happened,” James comments, catching Sirius’ attention. “Regulus told me. All right?”

Sirius shrugs, idly rubbing his hand over his chest. “Had worse.” He offers a lopsided grin that James matches. “I hope he throws a public tantrum when I make an appearance.” His father tried demanding he stayed out of tonight's event, scared Sirius wouldn’t ‘pass’ enough as a boy. Ironic, considering he’s been passing as a boy since he started attending Hogwarts. Nothing a little voice altering spells can’t do.

James hums, “Regulus said he’d try and keep them away from you,” He says, following Sirius down the hall. Sirius nods and makes a mental note to thank him later.

Walburga had enchanted the main floor of the house to be entirely open with a proper ballroom. The marbled floors are shined enough to reflect, soft, classical music floods the open air, crystal chandeliers sway above, and from their spot walking down the grand staircase, Sirius can spot Remus with his father in the far corner.

He blatantly ignores Orion’s burning glare and follows James down the stairs and through the sea of people dancing to the music. They dodge elbows and feet as they cut through the main dance floor; it’s stuffy, with so many people here, but Walburga has an aroma of lavender and vanilla hanging in the air. 

“Sirius!” Euphemia calls, stopping the two halfway through the floor. She catches her hands around his shoulders, “Oh, look at you. You look so handsome in a suit.” She combs her fingers through the ends of his hair, her compliment goes right to his chest.

She flicks her gaze to James. “James- James, fix your tie,” She immediately migrates to James to properly knot his tie, much to James’ dismay.

“Okay, mum, it’s fine,” James whines.

Euphemia harrumphs and turns to Sirius. “I like that you don’t complain.” She comments, fixing Sirius’ hair a last time with a soft smile. Sirius’ injuries feel nonexistent under her motherly love. Then, with a slight frown, she runs a thumb over Sirius’ busted lip. She clears her throat. “Okay, I’ll stop bothering you two. Have fun,” She kisses both of their foreheads and hurries to a group of her friends.

“Have fun,” James echoes.

“My ass.” Sirius laughs, and finally they make it to Remus, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

He’s with his father, Lyall, since his mother is muggle and can’t attend. Lyall is talking animatedly to a couple of pure-bloods who Sirius already knows will be talking shit about how Lyall married a muggle. He has half a mind to say something, but his words die on his tongue when Remus finally sees them.

The tension in his face melts away when they meet. "Hi.” Remus says with a tired smile.

Sirius grins. “Hullo.” He glances around, bouncing on the balls of his feet and making sure his mother is nowhere in sight. There’s too many people to properly pick her out from the crowd; a sea of fancy dresses all coloured rich purples and blues. It's keeping him on edge.

With James around, he feels a bit more safe. He sincerely doubts Walburga will pull something while a Potter is near, considering their status and money. One breath from Euphemia Potter and the entire Wizarding world would know Sirius is transgender- not that Sirius thinks she would ever do that. But, it's not something Walburga would risk.

“Having fun?” Sirius asks, looking back to Remus.

Remus is wearing all warm colours- an off-white shirt with a brown vest and dark trousers. He doesn’t have a blazer or tie on, and he’s still charming as ever with his sandy hair and golden eyes. Sirius hasn’t seen him since summer vacation started.

Remus scoffs. “Not one bit.” He frowns, tugging at his collar. “How do you do this all the time, you two? Gala’s are the worst.”

“Let me show you,” James offers, scooping up three glasses of champagne from a passing tray.

Sirius takes a glass from him, but Remus stares blankly at the one offered to him. He shifts that same, unimpressed stare to James, “Werewolf.”

James points at him and nods, “Right.” He says. He shoots back both glasses on his own, then scrunches his nose.

“Carbonated.” Sirius comments, taking a slow sip and wishing it were something stronger.

“Indeed.” James sets the glasses on the floor without care and hits his chest to settle his stomach. Sirius offers his own to James, who takes it without complaint.

When Sirius turns back to Remus, Remus steps closer. A frown threatens to tug his lips. “What happened to your lip?”

Sirius pushes his tongue against the slit. Orion never took off his rings; it’ll probably scar. “Nothing much.” He shrugs vaguely with a wave of his hand. “I’m clumsy.”

“Right.” Remus drawls. “You fell flat on your face.” He says, disbelieving.

Sirius grins, big and fake, “Precisely.” He catches James scanning the crowd, and rolls his eyes. “Stop looking for Evans, you prat.”

“What if she shows up and I miss her?” James asks, stepping to his tip-toes to watch the door.

“On her own?” Sirius questions. “Unlikely.”

“I wouldn’t want to come to one of these events as a muggle born,” Remus points out, “no matter how ‘inviting’ they try and make it, there will always be a clear gap. Peter isn’t even coming.”

“Lily is stubborn enough to come.” James assures, eyes flitting around the nameless heads.

Remus looks at Sirius, “What are they even claiming this charity event is for?”

Sirius thinks back, “Um… something about orphans.” He says, unsure. “Not entirely sure, I didn’t care enough to listen. I just know they’re doing it to bury the recent scandal.”

Remus quirks his brow, “Which one?”

“Good question.” Sirius laughs, light, and can’t stop himself from wincing at the pain splintering through his ribs. He locks his hands around his back to keep from rubbing his ribs, already knowing Remus caught his wince.

“There!” James cuts off any concern Remus was about to voice, forcing Sirius’ attention to the entrance where a bright head of red hair stands true. Lily has her chin out and head held high, and unfortunately, James was right.

Sirius groans and slaps five sickles in Remus’ awaiting palm.

“Unfair,” He murmurs, watching James force himself through the sea of people to reach her side. Quiet dread settles in his gut; there goes his protection. “She probably told you she was coming.”

“I’m not a cheater,” Remus tsks, pocketing the coins.

Sirius goes to bite back a witty remark, but unfortunately for him he hasn’t been paying enough attention to those around him, and missed entirely the mess of black hair walking towards him.

He catches her eyes just in time to hear one dreadful word fall from her lips. Sirius blanks it out automatically- but it still sends his back rigid and his heart to his throat. He doesn’t have to look around to know no one else heard- his mother would never approve of Bellatrix outing him to anyone important. But Remus heard- someone important to Sirius.

Sirius stares, frozen, eyes locked on Bellatrix’s manic ones. Everything is muffled by the blood rushing through his ears. He despises how much those three syllables are able to hurt him.

“Who?” Remus asks dumbly, breaking through Sirius’ muffled barrier.

Bellatrix opens her mouth, because apparently she doesn’t possess any self preservation skills, “Oh? You don’t know? Her real name is-”

Sirius’ fist knocks through Bellatrix’s teeth before she can finish. His ears are ringing- and thankfully the ballroom is so over stuffed that no one seems to notice the scuffle. Bellatrix grins up at him from the floor with mouth full of blood. He doesn’t wait for her to get up, and instead latches his hand around Remus’ wrist and drags him as far away from his demented cousin as possible. He’s entirely on autopilot; weaving through the dancing crowd and dodging elbows and hands and feet. He supposes he should have stuck with James.

He drops a confused Remus off at James’ and Lily’s side. “Keep away from my family,” Sirius demands, quiet and sharp, before turning on his heels and exiting the room. He can feel his mother’s smug stare from over the crowd, and he knows him leaving the ball is admitting defeat, but he doesn’t care; he already feels defeated.

Suddenly, he’s in the back garden with a bottle of whisky in his hand and absolutely no memory of getting there. It’s dark, the half moon is high in the air and surrounded by twinkling stars. The back of his eyes are burning as he desperately tries not to let angry tears fall. He balls his injured hand into a fist, sending zips of pain off his arm.

He’s livid.

He glares out into the open garden. It’s surrounded by hedges with a tall fountain displayed proudly in the centre; the balcony is overly large and marble, with tall pillars connecting to the roof. Popping the cap off his whisky, he takes a large gulp; the burn is familiar and welcomed; numbing the pain in his fist and in his chest.

“Hope you don’t plan on dying of alcohol poisoning tonight,” Remus comments, startling Sirius but not enough to face him.

His heart plummets to his shoes and his fingers curl around the cool balcony railing in an attempt to ground himself. Remus’ footsteps are hesitant, but he finds himself next to Sirius regardless. Sirius keeps his stubborn glare on the stupid fountain, ignoring Remus’ eyes burning into the side of his face and the fear coursing through his veins. It’s quiet for a long moment; just the sound of crickets in the grass and soft music spilling through the opened doors.

“What did she mean, Sirius?” Remus asks, finally.

Sirius breathes. If he’s still calling him Sirius, he didn’t connect the dots. Remus, for a smart person, can be entirely oblivious.

“Nothing.” Sirius scowls. His throat is full of ice. He takes a swig of whisky to wash the coldness away.

“Right.” Remus drawls. “Because this is nothing.” He gestures to the bottle of whisky.

Sirius raises his bottle to cheers to that and takes another long swig. He moves to sit on the top of the three steps down to the garden, just so he can put the bottle down to light a cigarette; the marble is cold against his thighs. Remus follows him, watching ever so closely; Sirius forces the tremble from his hands as he lights the cigarette. He inhales a deep breath, making his ribs constrict against the bandages and causing him to cringe.

The nicotine fuzzes his brain, and successfully burns through any of his anxieties and anger.

“Whatever she meant,” Remus continues after a quiet beat, much to Sirius’ dismay, “she probably deserved that hit. Maybe a few more.”

“Definitely a few more.” Sirius agrees. A slow, reluctant smile lifts his cheeks. He inhales another breath of fresh air, but can’t take a proper deep breath due to the bandaging. Annoying.

Remus bumps his shoulder into Sirius’, sending a stream of warmth directly to his chest. “Just a few more days.” He reminds.

“Just a few more days.” Sirius breathes. Then he can go to Hogwarts, and no one will dead name him. At least, not to his face.

They lull to another silence, more comfortable than before. Remus silently offers his hand, palm up, and Sirius easily slips his hand into Remus’. It’s a simple touch, but Remus squeezes his hand, and doing so squeezes out all of Sirius’ worries still clinging to his ribs.

“Remus- ah, there you are,” Lyall calls from the balcony door, catching both Remus’ and Sirius’ attention. Remus drops his hand, leaving him cold. “Oh, Sirius, hello. Lovely house you have.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “You don’t need to compliment anything to me, Mr. Lupin.” He drawls. “Also, I wouldn’t trust those wizard’s you were talking to.” He turns back to the garden and takes another drag.

Lyall is silent for a moment. “Right…” He says, slow. “Anyway. Remus, come on, mum’s waiting for us.” He’s gone just as fast as he came.

Remus sighs and stands to his feet. He stays standing at Sirius’ side for a moment, then taps the top of his head three times. “See you soon?”

Sirius looks up with a small smile. “Can’t wait.”

Remus matches his smile. He lingers for only a minute, then disappears.

Sirius chain smokes by himself for a while longer, missing Remus’ warmth. Three cigarettes later, and he’s sneaking back through the ballroom and to his room. He clumsily sets his whisky on his nightstand before fumbling with the buttons on his dress shirt, shrugging it off and avoiding his reflection in the mirror.

Reluctantly, he peels away the bandages around his chest. There’s red lines trailing up his sides and circling his ribs, a direct cause from wearing them for far too long. He rubs his hands over his aching chest, then trails his fingers over the dark bruises painting his stomach and ribs from his father. Sighing, he yanks on a hoodie and collapses into bed; drinking whisky until it’s enough to knock him out.