Chapter Text
Christmas Eve, December 24th 1974
The Black Manor was prepared for a party, though nothing about it screamed Christmas. There was no colour in sight, the tinsels were silver, the ornaments on the massive Christmas tree next to the fireplace were also silver, as was the massive star on top of it. The table was set elegantly, with center pieces of mistletoe and poinsettia. Trust the Black family to put poisonous plants on the table. Silver cutlery, several sets of it, each for a different course of the meal. Pure vanity if you asked Sirius, he didn’t understand why they could eat the salad and the main course with the same knife and fork.
However, nobody was asking Sirius. If they had, he would have said he didn’t want to be here. Neither would he have wanted the boy next to him to be here. His brother, Reggie, or Regulus as he had chosen, looked uncomfortable, tugging on the corset of his dress, whenever Walburga wasn’t looking. He was wearing make up, light and feminine, and Sirius was absolutely sure he hated it. But the make up was done skillfully, and he knew Regulus himself had done it because he had done the same make up on Sirius numerous times as a practice, ever since that one time Sirius caught him, staring at the mirror, make up brush in hand not moving.
Sirius was absolutely sure, his brother was dysphoric, but that was because he knew his little brother, and cared enough to notice it. Walburga who couldn’t be bothered had given Regulus a curt nod of approval when she had seen him and returned to the preparation for the party. Sirius on the other side, noticed the way he was fidgeting with the dress, smoothing out invisible fringes, waving a bit too fast with his fan, pushing his loose hair out of his face, since he liked to wear it up, because he could pretend then that it was short.
“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning closer to his brother, careful for nobody to overhear them. The relationship between them was strained even since Regulus was sorted into Slytherin, but at family gatherings they were reluctant allies. Besides Regulus was his little brother, Sirius would always worry about him.
“Fine, just this corset. I swear Mother is trying to suffocate me,” he answered, shaking his head.
Before Sirius could come up with a solution, another giddy voice called out, “Reggie!”
Both brothers turned to see Bellatrix, hand in hand with her fiance Rodolphus Lestrange, beaming with that slightly mad gleam in her eyes. She immediately came to them hugging Regulus, who didn’t miss a beat breaking into a polite smile, returning Bellatrix’ kisses on his cheeks.
Sirius sighed but had no choice but to pick up Bellatrix’ hand and offer the back of it a kiss. With the corner of his eyes he saw Lestrange offer the same gesture to Regulus.
“It’s lovely to see you, Bella. You must tell me how the wedding is coming along,” Regulus said politely. Sirius almost laughed, Regulus couldn’t care less about the wedding, but his little brother had always been a better courtier than him. It seemed to work, Bellatrix took Regulus’ arm and whisked him away talking about how the dress was coming along, what jewellery she was going to wear. Bellatrix might not love her fiancee but she sure loved expensive things.
Rodolphus seemed like there was something he would like to discuss with Sirius, but thankfully more guests started to arrive then, giving Sirius to escape the conversation that would have no doubt gotten stirred towards Voldemort.
He greeted the rest of his cousins, Andromeda and Narcissa, Bellatrix’ little sisters. His smile to them was far more genuine, especially towards Andromeda, who similar to Sirius had disagreements with their family. Cygnus and Druella, his aunt and uncle, were dressed impeccably as usual, all of them wearing jewelry that probably cost a small fortune.
Seeing as they were all family tonight, it seemed quite over the top, but even Sirius could see the tension between his father and his uncle. Cygnus seemed to hate that Orion had inherited the Black Manor and the title of head of the House of Black. So Cygnus was no doubt trying to upstage his host, Sirius almost rolled his eyes at his uncle’s pettiness. It was quite hypocritical of him to judge one for being petty, but what Cygnus was doing reminded him of a pouting child more often than not.
However it was most definitely not surprising. Cygnus had a bad temper, probably worse than his sister’s since Walburga at least contained it. If Walburga’s anger was a lightning – precise and sharp, then Cygnus’ was an explosion – burning, and harming more often than not more than just the person that called for it. For example, it was rumored that Narcissa wasn’t his biological daughter(Sirius thought that was better than being the spawn of that… man), and though there was no proof of it, he often took it out on his youngest and his wife. Those arguments always got really ugly.
The last one ended with what Daily prophet called “a magical incident” that had ended up with Cygnus at St. Mungo’s for two weeks straight. But based on how gleeful Bellatrix had been during that time he was sure his oldest cousin had something to do with it. Sirius wasn’t judging her for that particular madness, Cygnus had made it clear in no uncertain terms that if the slightest bit of evidence came up that Narcissa was not his daughter, he would kill both her and his wife. So if Sirius had any say, Bellatrix’ reaction had been quite liberal.
“At least tonight will be interesting,” a voice tore Sirius’ from his judgemental spiral. His Uncle Alphard Black, probably Sirius’ favourite adult. He was a quiet man and mostly excluded from the family, however he was invited from time to time to keep up appearances. Alphard didn’t seem to mind his solitude, despite his fondness for his nieces and nephews. Sirius knew that Alphard, just like Sirius, had a fondness for Muggles and was quite fascinated with their ingenuity.
“Look at them circling each other,” the man clarified, nodding towards Cygnus and Orion, who, for a lack of a better word, were metaphorically circling each other like feral dogs.
“Aren’t they always,” Sirius drawled with a perfectly bored tone. They both knew that when Cygnus and Orion fought, their children often got caught in the crossfire. He still remembered the time when Bellatrix had intersected a curse that would have hit Narcissa, two years ago, and had melted the top layer of her forearm.
Alphard gave a dry laugh and pulled Sirius to the side, taking two glasses from a tray, handing one to Sirius. Nobody would have cared if he drank, despite being underage, after all he was the male heir they probably expected him to drink anyway. Sirius took the glass out of politeness, pretending to take a sip, refusing to prove this was his first time drinking. Alphard chuckled but only said, “Keep your wand on you.”
Sirius had never planned otherwise but the reminder set alarm bells in his head. “Something the matter, Uncle?” he asked calmly, quickly scanning the room first for Regulus and then his cousins. The former was on a balcony with Bellatrix, presumably still talking about her wedding, his other cousins were by the fireplace talking with Walburga, and their mother Druella.
“Your cousin is getting married.”
“Bella? Letting me know a bit late, don’t you think, Uncle,” Sirius said sarcastically. Had he used that tone with his mother it would have gotten him a slap. Alphard? He just let out a soft chuckle.
“Not her. Andromeda.”
Only years of having composure beaten into him kept Sirus’ face from faltering. Andromeda, who snuck out of Hogwarts during her time to pet unicorns in the Forbidden Forest; who hexed a student once for harassing her “inappropriate” friend; who taught Sirius his first healing spells, when he had panicked when he had been unable to help Reggie after his first big punishment. Sirius refused to believe it. Not because he wouldn’t put it past Cygnus to marry his daughters off, but because he refused to believe that Andy would stand for it.
“She would never let that happen,” Sirius said firmly, glancing at the only brownhaired person in the room.
Andy was smiling politely as she was taught, looking stunning in her green dress. Sirius wondered if she knew she was getting married. But the spark of exasperation in her eyes was no larger than usual, and despite being surrounded by… unsavoury characters, she appeared as much at ease as possible. She didn’t know.
“Precisely, why am I telling you to stay alert. This dinner would probably soon become messy,” Alphard said, taking a generous sip of his whiskey. Sirius couldn’t help but wish to second the notion, as they walked back to the table for dinner.
- - -
The dinner went surprisingly calmly. Sirius behaved, Regulus did as well. However at the end of it all, Cygnus whispered something to Narcissa, who passed Regulus on her way to the tray with the drinks. And if anybody saw them pass something between them, only Sirius could confirm it.
Narcissa returned with a glass of firewhiskey and handed it to her father. Cygnus stood up, gently hitting his glass with his knife.
“I would like to make a toast. To my second oldest daughter, who is to be engaged to Garrett Greengrass. To your happiness daughter,” he said, raising his glass towards Andromeda, taking a large sip.
The room was so quiet, a pin could drop and it would be heard. Everyone was frozen staring at Andromada, who looked as surprised as everyone else.
“What. The. Fuck,” she snapped at the end standing up to glare at her father. They were more or less the same height, yet to Sirius it seemed like she towered over him. As if she refused to bend to his will.
On Sirius’ other side Alphard tensed watching the scene with his practiced boredom. Only because Sirius was sitting next to him, he caught sight of the wand his uncle was clutching.
“Language, daughter,” Cygnus chided her.
“Oh, screw you,” Andromeda erupted, the glasses on the table rattling. A burst of accidental magic. That wasn't supposed to happen from a practiced witch but she appeared to be losing control. “Who are you to decide who the fuck I marry?”
“I am your father,” Cygnus snapped as if that was an explanation.
“Funny. You have never acted like one.”
Sirius didn't even have the chance to warn his cousin before there was the red light from Cygnus’ wand shot towards Andromeda.
The unforgivable bounced off a shield. Sirius snapped his eyes to his cousin. She was standing there wand in hand, anger personified, terror in her eyes as she realised her father had tried to use Crucio on her.
From then on it was a mess. The lamps around them exploded and spells were thrown. Sirius didn't even think, he grabbed Regulus, rushing him away from the room. They didn't need words to communicate, or even to see each other. Regulus summoned a shield around them and Sirius casted a Lumus spell.
The room was a mess. The table was turned over, broken plates and food were spilled everywhere. Bellatrix was standing in front of Narcissa, holding a shield over them. Walburga was standing to the side as well, right next to Orion who had his wand out as if debating whether to join Cygnus or bathe in the other man’s misery. Alphard was sitting in the exact same place, wand out. He appeared unaffected, but Sirius could see the burns on the armrest of his chair. He had fired some of the spells.
Just as Sirius looked at Cygnus, the man dropped to his knees, as if they gave out on him. Cygnus lifted his head weakly, staring at his daughter with so much hatred, it gave Sirius chills. Sirius wanted to shout at his cousin to run away. Andromeda on her part was standing tall over her father, her wand pointed towards him. She was shaking but her wand was not, ready for an attack.
But when Cygnus dropped on the ground, nobody moved. Druella was the one that rushed forward to her husband, inspecting him even under the unforgivable aim of Andromeda’s wand. Sirius could swear that there was disappointment on her face, but then she looked up and gave one nod. Cygnus lived.
Druella stared at her daughter leaving her husband on the floor. She had committed her duties as a wife to check on him, he would wake up even without her there. Andromeda took a step back carefully, lowering her wand, as if they were having a silent conversation. Sirius didn’t know what they said but soon, Druella lifted her wand towards Andromeda.
“Pars, fille” Druella ordered in an almost harsh tone.
Andromeda stared at her mother as if she was a stranger, but then she bolted under the relentless fire of her mother’s spells. None of them hit her, yet she didn't stop running. She ran like her life depended on it. As she passed Sirius and Regulus, he could have sworn his brother whispered, “Be happy cousin.”
Andromeda left that night, the veil of her green dress billowed out as she left the Black Manor not looking back. She left her life, her sisters, her family running towards her freedom. Sirius wondered if it was a fair trade.
✦ ✦ ✦
Christmas Eve, December 24th 1975
Regulus remembered the day that he knew his brother would leave.
He had been ten.
He had received his first letter from Sirius, who at the time had been at Hogwarts. He had stared at the letter for what felt like hours. The usually neat and a bit stiff handwriting, had been messy and rushed almost like Sirius had been too excited to wait for his words to catch up with his thoughts.
If their mother had found it, she would have broken each of Sirius' fingers. She would have hated everything about that letter. The excitement rolling off it, the ink smudges, the casual easy way Sirius referred to his friends. Regulus had little doubt Sirius knew that as well. Yet he had sent it. Had proudly announced that the blood traitor James Potter was his best friend.
Regulus had burned the letter before their mother had found it.
Regulus also remembered the time that he had understood that Sirius had to leave. He had been thirteen. Sirius had been fourteen.
The Dark Lord had been gaining power and followers. Bella and Rodolphus were already in his thrall. Narcissa’s intended, Malfoy, was about to join the Deatheaters’ ranks soon. Naturally, Walburga wanted the same for her children. She wanted them to be better than them all.
So she tortured them.
“We are royalty! You do not kneel!”
Walburga had cried out. Sirius, for the first time hadn’t done anything to cause her wrath. This time he had been completely innocent. This was born out of their mother’s obsession. A fourteen year old could not handle the strength of Crucio, casted by a bitter woman. Sirius had dropped to his knees, screaming his throat raw. She had punished him for that weakness.
Regulus was completely sure that his brother hadn’t heard their mother at all over the sound of his own screams. Or maybe he had.
Sirius had pushed himself up at last, the red light of the unforgivable curse reflected the true hatred in his eyes. His teeth had been bared, a rabid dog about to snap.
Regulus had known his brother would die in that house. One way or another.
Regulus was getting a sense of pure deja-vu, watching that same red light once again. It had been going for hours now.
It was a mess. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into his mother. Walburga was usually more cunning than this. because believing Sirius would join the Dark Lord was about as plausible as making stone bleed. She definitely knew that, after all, she had been the one to teach Regulus how to read people like an open book. Regulus knew that Sirius would rather die than join the Dark Lord, despite the fact he had barely spoken to his brother since his Sorting Ceremony. If Regulus knew it, then his mother had to do so as well.
And yet, she had invited Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Narcissa, Cygnus and Druella. Almost the entire House of Black was here. To witness the way Sirius had laughed at Walburga’s order to join the Deatheaters. A fight had quickly followed afterwards. Sirius was a great wizard but he was no match against seven full grown wizards.
Regulus observed his mother. She never expressed much emotion. But this was different. Whenever she was exacting a punishment, she was furious. No longer the collected Lady Black, but a hysterical woman preaching the way of the Black family. She always screamed almost as if reading from a script, as if it had been taught into her. Regulus had no delusions that his mother’ s childhood had been any easier than his own.
Now, though? She was quiet, somber almost. Her spells were wordless. There were no cries about Sirius being an unworthy heir. None of the desperation for him to be “proper”.
This was no mere punishment. This was an execution.
“Daugther,” Orion’s voice brought Regulus gaze, away from the bloody pulp he called his brother. “Why don’t you bring us all some refreshments?”
Regulus kept his expression blank as he nodded. As if his brother’s screams weren’t haunting him, he went ahead and summoned enough glasses from everyone.
“Say Bella, why don’t you help out Aunt Walburga convincing Sirius,” Cissa chimed in, somewhere behind Regulus. Bella was only too gleeful to show off her power. It was pathetic really.
But it created the perfect distraction.
Before Bellatrix raised her wand, Regulus floated the drinks to everyone, before settling next to Narcissa.
“This better not kill me, little cousin,” she whispered to him, before raising the glass to her lips.
Titt for tat.
Regulus had helped Narcissa get her sister out, so she was going to help him get his brother out.
It was a gamble. If someone didn’t drink, he would be found out. They were all too drunk on Sirius’ blood to be cautious. This was entertainment, a challenge, so they drank.
Five minutes later, they all passed out. The potion would last until Regulus said the reversing spell. And they would be none the wiser. Especially since Regulus was going to tamper with their memories. Apparently Sirius hadn’t been that bad off, and while they had been arguing whether it was appropriate or not for Bella to enact any punishment on Sirius, considering she was not a parent of his, Sirius had knocked them out and ran away.
It took some time, since there were so many of them, not to mention that the spell was complicated. But Regulus was positive that he could manage it.
He had long known it would come to this. His parents would force Sirius to join the Dark Lord. Sirius would defy them, they would torture him to the brink of death. He had hoped he would have more time to prepare and less of an audience, but it was what it was. All it had taken was dropping an off handed comment that mind spells would be helpful in serving Voldemort. His mother had been all too eager to teach him. Then the potions – Dittany and the knock out – had been an “extra project” for potions class. Slughorn had been just so eager to help him in making the complicated potions. He had practically sung everything.
By the time he was done, he was sweating buckets. But there was still work to be done. Regulus knelt to his brother, knocking him out as well, there was no reason to be awake and suffer anymore.
“Who would ever wanna be king?” he whispered before taking a deep breath.
Then came the Dittany, which took a lot of time. While a simple Cruciatus would have been plenty, but his mother had wanted Sirius to remember this and bear the scars. Cuts ran over his torso, it was practically torn to shreds, a chunk of his left ring finger was missing and a bad burn on his leg. Regulus scrunched his nose at the smell of charred flesh as he carefully dribbled the potion over the wounds. The bleeding immediately stopped but that was hardly enough. Regulus sighed and began healing him as best as he could, the cuts were slowly beginning to close, but he was tired and mending the broken bones would have taken too much time.
“Kreacher!” he called out, almost losing his balance, if it was for the house elf steadying him.
“Yes, young Mistress?” The house elf asked, unfazed at his passed out masters. Despite what Walburga may claim, Kreacher was smart. He probably understood immediately what was going on.
“Take us to the Potters,” Regulus ordered.
- - -
James held up a camera, taking secretly of a photo of his parents dancing by the fireplace. His father was singing very much off key, making his mother roll her eyes, but she didn’t tell him to stop which only fueled him to go on further. He let them have that.
Before of course, he had to complain. “I think my ears are bleeding, Dad.”
“Must be all that flying, darling, your father is a wonderful singer,” Euphemia told him. Fleamont, like the overgrown, forty year old child he was, stuck out his tongue at James, behind Effie’s back.
“Mom, you have been married to him for like twenty years. I don’t think your vote is unbiased.”
“Nonsense, amorcito, I am completely unbiased. Your father may snore like a damn chainsaw, but he has the voice of an angel.”
“You have always had a talent for making compliments sound like insults, mi vida.” Monty chimed in looking genuinely confused whether he was supposed to be offended or flattered.
“I am just telling the truth,” Effie claimed, kissing Monty, whose cheeks, already red from all the eggnog, burned brighter.
“Oi, public displays of affection are inappropriate,” James rushed to separate his parents. It backfired immediately because his mother tugged him into a hug, squishing him tight. While his mother’s hugs were truly comforting, he was a teenage boy who had a reputation to uphold.
“Mom!” he whined, trying to squirm away, while his father, the traitor, was laughing.
His saving grace was an insistent knock on the door. He rushed to open the door. If he hadn’t he would have seen the amusement fade from his parents’ eyes as they suddenly became tense grabbing their wands.
Any thoughts of laughter and joy left his mind when he opened the door. Sirius was laying on his doorstep, looking like someone had used him to sharpen their claws on him. James, dropped on his knees, searching for a pulse, catching a sight of a black cat sprinting away. He almost wept when he found it.
“Mom!” he yelled, voice shaking.
His parents were right there. It was a blur from then on. James remembered Monty tearing away his fingers from Sirius’ too still body, while his mother levitated his best friend to the couch. He couldn’t recall how many times Monty had to remind him to allow Effie to work. he couldn’t remember when he had started crying. Whether it was when, Effie had finally lifted her hands off Sirius’ body, and they were covered in blood, Sirius blood. Or maybe it was when Sirius took a deep breath as if he had just come back from the brink of death.
“This is their doing,” he snarled. His voice was so much darker, colder. It was a voice he never thought would belong to him.
That should have scared him. But all he felt was rage. Murderous rage. He was seeing Gryffindor red. He jumped from his palace of vigil next to Sirius.
“James–” his mother started.
“No, Mom. He could have fucking died! They almost killed him this time,” he snapped.
“Do not point your wand at your mother,” Fleamont chided.
He didn’t raise his voice. Never had. But the words were enough for the furious spell to break on James. He hadn’t realised he had pulled his fucking on wand on his mother. James’ cheeks burned with shame, and he sat back down.
“I–I.,. am sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean–” he choked on tears putting his head in his hands.
A jingle of golden bracelets reached him, a warm hand was placed on his knee, Effie was crouched in front of him, watching him not in anger or disappointment, but with love concern.
“I know amorcito. It’ll be alright. We will talk to Dumbuldore. We are not letting him go back there,” his mother said gently, pulling him into a hug.
James clung to his mother, as he sobbed. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair what was happening to Sirius. That it had taken him almost dying to be saved.
“I know amorcito. I know,” she soothed him softly. James hadn’t realised he was chanting the words out loud until then.
Monty crouched next to them, placing his large hand on James’ back, “How about we move you and Sirius upstairs? You will be more comfortable there.”
James barely managed to nod. His mother helped him up, as Monty gently levitated Sirius, bringing them to a guest room, laying the sleeping boy on the bed. James, perched up on it counting Sirius’ breaths to make sure he was okay. With one last kiss on his forehead, his parents left them.
The silence was deafening. When Sirius and James were in a room together. It was never quiet. There was laughter, jokes, singing. Something. Not this.
When Sirius woke up it would change. Because he would.
James would make sure of it.
✦ ✦ ✦
January 17th 1976
Sirius stared down Snape. The rascal with his greasy hair, had taken the opportunity to make a jab at him for being disowned. Usually he would have laughed. He had laughed, every single time when any of those pathetic creatures Snape called his friends, decided to mock him for it.
Being disowned was the best thing that had happened to Sirius. After recovering, he had spent the rest of Christmas break with the Potters. For the first time, he had actually understood the happiness surrounding the holidays. That was what the holidays were supposed to be. Not tiptoeing around sketchy family members, not being tortured for “entertainment”, not being put on trial. But rather eggnog around a lit fireplace in a room filled with laughter, while the snow bellowed outside.
The bastard was about to say something stupid yet again, but Sirius cut him off. “Snivellus, fuck off, I truly do not have the time for you.”
He had just turned to leave, “Running yet again, Black. Pathetic.”
Sirius halted. And then he turned,a smile spreading across his face. It felt both natural and not. The cruel smirk, the same one Bellatrix wore when urging Sirius to try out Cruciatus on a kitten.
“I wouldn’t call this running, Severus” Sirius spat out the name mockingly. “I have far more important things to do rather than to watch you struggle to come up with better insults than “pathetic”.” He started to turn and then to twist the knife deeper, he threw over his shoulder. “Though, I have to admit it’s highly amusing.”
He was acutely aware that the bug was following him still. He had to shake him off somehow, he couldn’t bring him to Moony. The sun was setting, if he was correct he had at best 20 minutes before the transformation began.
“Drinking and whoring around again, aren’t you?” the bastard sneered.
Sirius saw blood red. One second he was walking away and the next… his fist met Snape’s jaw. The black magic in his veins sang watching Snape drop to the ground. He had assumed that after being disowned and Regulus being named heir, it would go away, that prideful urge in the back of his mind. Of course, it never did, it would be to fucking easy for him. It had been dulled, some of the Potters’ goodness rubbing off on him.
Blood must be thicker than water after all.
Snape tried to get up, but Sirius kicked him in the ribs. There was a sickeningly satisfying crack. Sirius’ face twisted into a smirk, as he lit a cigarette.
“You know, Snivellus, I hadn’t planned for that but now that you mention it… Are you offering?” Sirius mocked the lump on the ground. His right arm was throbbing from the punch, but he barely felt it. Not even alcohol gave him such a rush.
To Snape’s credit, he simply spit out some blood, before looking up at Sirius.
“As if. Punching? Really? Did Mommy and Daddy break your wand? Or are you just too much of a pussy to fight like a wizard?”
Sirius chuckled, as if highly amused by Snape’s attempt at a jab. It took longer than to summon the black magic but by the time he knelt down next to Snape, he knew his pupils had swallowed the stormy gray of his irises. “See, Snivellus, I would have pulled out my wand, was there a wizard to fight me back. Since I don’t see one around here, it wouldn’t be a fair fight, would it?”
Sirius saw Snape reach for his wand, one did not spend years being tortured mentally and physically without learning to pay attention. Just before Snape took out his wand, Sirius’ hand shot out grasping his wrist roughly enough to leave bruises.
“Ah, ah, now let’s not make this any messier. Stay down like the lapdog you are,” Sirius cooed.
“Pads! What the fuck are you doing? We have to go!” James rushed in, halting at the scene in front of him.
Sirius plastered a smile on his face, willing the black magic away before he got up, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Sorry Prong, me and Snivellus here got into a riveting conversation that I couldn’t get away from.”
“Sure,” James sounded skeptical as he took in the battered state Snape was in. “And what did your fists had to say so much?”
“Oh, you know… just to keep his crooked nose out of my business.”
“Is that so?”
“So it is.”
Only years of being alert allowed Sirius to see the attack. Snape had crawled to a sitting position, his wand out. But due to his shaking, his aim was off. Sirius barely had time to push James out of the way of the spell, which harmlessly hit the wall behind them.
“Pads, are you alright?” James called out momentarily blinded by the rumble.
“Peachy,” Sirius sneered, coughing. However unlike James, Sirius was unconsciously trained to rely on more than his sight. He couldn’t recall how many times the ability to place where his mother was based on her footsteps. It was a matter of survival. And Snape was much louder than his mother’s light patter. Sirius had his wand out, shooting a stream of light, in Snape’s direction, hitting him square in the chest.
The little bug fell down. Sirius smirked at him as he prowled over, bending down over the lump on the ground.
“Follow us if you dare.”
Sirius straightened up shooting James a smile.
✦ ✦ ✦
January 18th, 1976
Remus clutched his teddy bear, Cocoa.
Technically he was supposed to be in bed, but he couldn’t sleep. His side wouldn't stop itching, where the bite was. But even if it hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to sleep. He could hear his parents in the kitchen. Or rather his father.
“I can’t, Hope. I cannot go against the laws I pushed through,” the words were slightly slurred. His dad must be tired.
“It’s because of those laws, that he was bitten!” Remus had never heard his ma raise his voice before.
“If he had only listened to me– I told him not to go out—”
“He is four! I am not going to sit around and watch you ruin our son’s life because of your stupid pride!” Hope cut through whatever tale Lyall was spinning to make himself the victim.
A heavy silence followed, before Lyall gave a drunken chuckle, his voice devoid completely of humour. “Our son?! Hope, that boy is going to turn into a werewolf in a week! Try to baby him then. He would tear your throat out.”
“Bloody hell, Lyall—”
“Don’t you see, Hope?! He has to be registered! He is a monster—”
“I am not a monster, Daddy!”
Remus couldn’t handle it anymore, he stormed into the kitchen, he yelled, desperate for his father to believe him. His mother lifted a hand to her mouth, terrified at how much of his father's drunken ramblings he had heard. But Remus was only looking at Lyall.
The eyes of a child, bright with tears, met those of a drunk man and saw no recognition. Remus tried again, stepping closer, but his father did not reach for him as he usually would to pick him up or ruffle his hair. In fact he flinched away, he might have as well hit Remus.
“Please, Dad, I would never hurt Mom. I am not a monster! Please! You have to believe me—”
The rest of his screaming was lost against his mother’s shoulder as she scooped him up, teddy bear and train pyjamas. If he had looked up he would have seen his mother shoot Lyall a disappointed look. But he didn't.
Hope carried him back to his bedroom, running a gentle hand over his back, attempting to soothe him, as her own eyes filled with tears.
“I don’t wanna be a monster, Mom,” Remus sobbed on her shoulder.
“I know, cariad,” she sighed, like it was the only comfort she could offer.
- - -
“I am not a monster.”
The words echoed in Remus’ head as he woke up with a start. A second later he realised that it wasn’t the words that were throbbing in his head, but rather a headache. He groaned looking around. The smell of medicine and antiseptic hit him before he could register the sun light coming from the windows, the soft bed underneath him, and the warm covers covering him.
He was not in the Shack.
It had been years since Remus had been bad enough after a transformation to not have awakened before the infirmary. If that wasn’t enough to set off alarm bells in his head, then the pain in his body would have been. Looking down he saw that his chest was wrapped up in bandages, as well as his leg. His jaw ached as if someone had punched the lights out of him.
“Poppy,” he croaked, realizing he sounded like a child, but the fear in his voice was real.
He could taste blood in the back of his throat mixed with bile., It was a bitter mix of copper and the tangy taste of whatever dinner he had managed to force the night before.
“Poppy!” he called out a bit desperately.
His mind was whirling with scenarios of what could have possibly happened the night before. They had all assumed that the wolf was not a threat to animals, only humans, but then again weren’t humans just animals as well. What if the wolf had gone rabid, and attacked his animagni companions?
What if he had bitten someone?
He would rip your throat then.
“Moony, Moony,” came a soothing voice that Remus could recognise anywhere. James rushed in straight through the white curtains around his hospital bed. Remus grasped his arm, it was bandaged as well. Not the shitty job Sirius would do, after a rough full moon. This was a medical grade bandaging, with clean pristine stripped, carefully tightened just enough not to let the blood drip, but not so tight that it would stop blood flow to his arm.
“Mr. Lupin,” Poppy parted the curtains, resting her palm on Remus’ shoulder and with james help, they pushed him flat on the medical bed.
“What happened?” he demanded.
James looked at Poppy, the way two people might when they had bad news to share with a third party, and they didn't want them to know. “Moony–” he started, and he knew that James would feed him some bullshit.
“What. Happened." He cut him off. James stared at his eyes and a mix of fear and sadness was reflected in them.
Was James afraid of him or for him?
Poppy took in a deep breath and she started speaking. Any and all thoughts seized in Remus’ head. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, or maybe it was James’? Maybe his heart had stopped. From the way James had tensed next to him, the werewolf knew that it wasn’t some ill-advised prank as he had hoped.
“Remus– Sirius told Snape everything.”