The Train
Sirius wished the train would never stop. Sure, he’d have to live on a train, but that was certainly better than the alternative. He was happy on the train; he had friends, and food, and a wonderful lack of anyone, besides the strange trolly witch, older than seventeen.
The closer they got to London, the more miserable he became. He wanted to enjoy the last time he’d have with his friends for months, but the dread was making it impossible. He had to force himself to not stare out the window and wait for the station to come into sight.
They played gobstones and talked about the best things they’d done that year, ignoring the obvious mistakes they’d made (Sirius was still amazed he’d been forgiven). The other three ate sweets that Sirius couldn’t stomach with his nerves and talked over their summer plans. He tuned them out before he started to think too much about his own months at home.
James and Peter were in a very heated argument over which Bertie Bott’s flavor was best. Sirius could hardly hear them, let alone contribute, but it at least kept them from noticing how very shaky he’d become. Unfortunately, it also left Remus unoccupied, and he moved next to Sirius.
Usually, Sirius wouldn’t have minded at all. Sometimes he even thought Remus might be his favorite, although he could of course never tell James that. But Remus shouldn’t see him like that, so weak and scared. He was meant to be a Gryffindor. Remus faced much worse terrors every month, and he was never so cowardly.
“Pads, don’t go back to them this year. Stay with James; you know he’s offered. Please.” Remus begged quietly. James and Peter were too distracted to notice anyway, but Sirius appreciated the consideration.
“It’s fine Moony. They’re just my family. I’ll be fine.” Sirius assured. He was desperately hoping that it didn’t end up being a lie.
“If they hurt you Sirius-”
“They won’t.”
“If they fucking hurt you, I swear I’ll come to your house on the next full bloody moon.” Remus didn’t look like he was exaggerating.
Sirius knew how much even saying that went against Remus’ usual morals. Hurting someone as the wolf was his greatest fear. Sirius, with his jumble of emotions, almost cried, but he only laughed instead and gave Remus’ shoulder a tight squeeze.
“Will you be ok for the moons at home?” He asked.
“Of course. My parents know what they’re doing.”
“I could come. I’ll tell your parents I’m an animagus. I’m sure I could escape for a night at least once a month.” The thought of Remus as battered as he used to get on full moons haunted Sirius every summer as much as going home.
“I don’t want my parents knowing, Pads. They’d worry too much and could get you into so much trouble. And I really don’t want your parents wondering why you only sneak out on the full moon.” Remus said, sounding almost apologetic. Like he’d ever do something that needed an apology.
Then, suddenly, all three of them were looking at him, and Sirius realized with horror that the train had finally stopped. He was sure he was going to be sick. James moved first and hugged him, grinning brightly when he stepped back.
“Write if you need us mate, I’m not scared of those gits.” He assured. Sirius couldn’t help feeling a bit ashamed.
Remus rolled his eyes. “I am, they’re bloody terrifying. I’ll be there anyway of course, if you need us. You have people, Sirius, you’ll be ok.” He said. He seemed to hesitate after that, before snatching up Sirius’ hand and kissing the back warmly. If anyone thought the panicked gesture was strange, they didn’t say so. Sirius was always grateful for affection, and something about Remus made him need it more and more.
Peter clapped him on the back, and then they all headed off the train. They didn’t give him a second glance, at least noticeably, once they were on the platform, and Sirius absolutely hated that they knew to do that.
His parents were there. Regulus was already with them, and they were all just standing there, looking around for him, waiting to take him back to Grimmauld Place. When his mother’s eyes finally landed on him, it sent Sirius over the edge. He found the nearest waste bin and was thoroughly sick, even though his stomach had been practically empty.
An arm was around him then, too tightly.
“Drunk again?” His father hissed, leading him forward. Sirius had spent most of the last summer too drunk to stand.
Sirius wanted to go anywhere else so badly; he even let himself search the crowd for James’ family, but he couldn’t find them. They were gone, and his father had him already anyway, and he couldn’t go to James’ either way. Who knew what his family would do to him then, let alone to James and his parents.
He let himself be led, to be taken. Trembling until his father apparated them, Sirius resigned himself to going home.