COMFORT ZONE | Sirius Black [REWRITING]

54. Fury and Droning Ghosts

Content warning: blood, violence, and strong language.

Monday, 9th June 1975

Sirius Black was out for blood.

Anyone who saw the first-year girl point him away from the Hospital Wing had seen the murderous glint in his eyes.

Ground floor, just at the opening of a narrow corridor. Sirius waited not a second after spotting Mulciber alone, probably going to the Slytherin common room.

Sneering at his alarmed face, Sirius hit him against a wall, making sure his head collided with the stone. Mulciber grunted.

A fist to a jaw and a forearm to a throat.

"Say a word to her again and I'll rip your fucking tongue out."

Sirius scowled as he felt Mulciber's knuckles graze past his cheek. He punched him in the stomach.

Mulciber was coughing. "Scared I'll do more... than just talk... with it, Black?"

His lip split into scarlet from the elbow Sirius rammed in his face.

"Say that again shit-face."

Though sputtering, Mulciber seemed better able to fight against him than he had against Dia, swinging his arms around to get a hit in.

All the better. When the idiot would go crying to his parents, it would be under the shame that he was bested with and without magic. Like a muggle.

"Just say... she's like a sister... to you," Mulciber taunted through bloodied teeth, managing a kick at his leg. "Say you'd never do it."

Flaring up even more, Sirius hammered his nose, and just like months ago, it bent with a loud crack.

Mulciber groaned, but within seconds, his streaming eyes narrowed. And even through the bruised, crimson-stained pity that was his face, he managed a smirk.

"Blood traitor."

"If I'm a traitor to bastards like you," Sirius pushed an arm harder into his throat, "then, it's a fucking honour to be one."

Mulciber was struggling to breathe. "Where's... your... mudblood... fucking... Potter, huh?"

And that was the last straw.

Sirius slammed anything. His knuckles jammed into every single bit of him he could find. Jaw, lip, stomach, temple, he didn't care anymore. He didn't care that a crowd had gathered at the end of the corridor. He didn't care that they were right behind the staffroom.

"Sirius? Sirius, mate, what the hell?" he heard James shouting.

But Sirius didn't care. He wanted to beat Mulciber to a pulp, until there was no more of him left to insult his friends. James could hex whatever was left of him.