Scars|| r. lupin

Sixth Year; Chapter three

Literature had a somewhat accurate representation of things.

But only somewhat.
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It was the night before the big game against Hufflepuff and James was so ready.

He was so ready you wouldn't even be able to tell.

Tonight, he slept.

Or at least he decided he would, his body had a different idea about rest though.

James had all but leaped into bed, completely prepared for a good nights rest, he even had all of his clothes for the next day laid out on his trunk. He was wearing his favorite pajama set and he had all of his curtains pulled and he had even taken a nice shower beforehand.

He felt absolutely prepared for rest. He was ready.

He was fatigued, he was tired.
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He was up too late.
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He was restless.
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He couldn't sleep.
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He had turned over too many times.
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He could hear everyone else sleeping.
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He moved the curtain to get his glasses.

He put them on his face and laid back down on his pillows, staring up at the ceiling.

He didn't know how long he was laying there, he must've dozed off.
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He woke up to someone leaving, didn't think much of it then.
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Remus wasn't there when he woke up, or, well, he might've been. He didn't think to look, no, James was in a rush. He had overslept, he only had mere hours before the game and he needed to get some food and practice in.

Couldn't play the biggest game of the semester on an empty stomach now could he.
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Sirius hadn't slept well either, unlike James, he hadn't slept at all.

Sirius didn't think about what he'd seen last night, didn't want to, he didn't need to either. He had a game to play. He couldn't be distracted.
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It didn't matter how much he tried to block them out, the images just couldn't escape his mind.

They were fighting again, his parents and he were.

Stupid bloody-fucking nightmares.

Sirius wouldn't admit it, but they still scared him.

Euphemia was much nicer though, yes, he could think about her during the game instead.

He just wished he could keep his mind on the game and game alone.

It wouldn't made winning much easier.
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Sirius gave one of the kids a bloody shoulder, and another one a dislocated knee.

McGonagall tried to pull him over after the game but he couldn't deal with her right then, he had to stay on the ground where he was before he started puking his guts up from what he'd done.

Dammit, he was sickened by what he'd done

All he wanted to do was curl up in his bed and talk with James or Y/n (or absolutely no one) and cry.

But it was the best game of the semester, even though the year had only just begun, and he had to be at the party.

Yes, he could be at the party, he could drink and all of it would just buzz.