deceit - sirius black

seventeen

Despite a concussion, Sabrina could remember exactly what had happened the night before. She remembered their argument, she remembered seeing his hand raise, and she just about remembered the moment right before she hit the marble countertop. She had awoken on the sofa she'd sat at minutes before the event occurred, brought there by Sam.

Sam was surprisingly calm the next day, though very quiet. She knew he probably regretted it, but it didn't change anything: she had seen the rage in his eyes, she had seen how far out her brought his hand, and she had felt how hard he had hit her. As far as she could tell, if she had not been so lucky, or if she had fallen at another angle, she could have been killed. Her own brother could have killed her, and it may have even been his initial intention, and she couldn't see past that.

She was supposed to leave after eating dinner last night, but had, for obvious reasons, ended up sleeping over. It was now well into the school day, and Sam was attempting to make breakfast as though nothing was wrong: Sabrina could easily do the same, but decided instead that she didn't want to stay. She grabbed her bag, which was still by the door, and left, apparating back to Hogsmeade.

Not sure at first whether she wanted to go there or to Sadie's, she had a minor splinch, cutting a piece off her earlobe. It had happened before, only that time she'd been left with a wonky-looking finger, and this time she could no longer wear earrings in one ear, to her disappointment.

Sabrina decided she would go to her dormitory and clean up, considering she still had blood on her head, and then go to her lessons like normal. What she didn't anticipate was that during the time it took for her to walk to the castle, and through it to the dungeons, it would be time for students to go to lunch.

She stuck out like a sore thumb: she was dressed in the same formal black dress from the meeting the night before, which was creased from sleeping on the sofa with it, her hair was messy (at best), and part of it matted with dried blood, which was also still stained across her forehead. Her bag in one hand, she held her shoes in the other, feet too tired to walk in them.

She'd hoped to slip through the crowds of students, keeping her head down until she reached the dungeons, but of course, she had to run into someone. That someone recognised her straight away.

"Sabrina?" Sirius questioned. She looked up at his voice, and he instantly noticed the blood. "What happened?" His friends lingered, but gave them enough space that it felt like just the two of them.

"It's fine. I'm fine." she reassured, though now that she was tasked with standing still, she realised how dizzy she felt, and wavered side-to-side.

"You're not," he held her as still as he could, "Did someone do this?"

"It's okay, Sirius," she tried to assure him, "I'm not hurt. I'll just clean up and I can come and have lunch with you, if you want."

"I'm coming with you." he insisted.

"No..."

"Yes. You're dizzy. You could fall."

She sighed, "Fine."

Sirius sent a look to his friends to tell them to go on without him, and held Sabrina close to him as they walked to the dungeons.

"You know you can tell me if something happened." he said softly as they neared the entrance to Slytherin's common room. "I won't judge. I won't even say anything, if it helps."

Sabrina bit her lip, just tell him the truth, she thought:

"It was Sam." True.

"We were talking about our parents, and Voldemort, and stuff." True.

"And I told him he was a coward..." True.

"...and that I didn't want to be a Death Eater." Mainly true...

"I don't know whether he meant to hit me hard, I think he was just angry." They climbed the stairs to her dormitory, and Sirius sat on her bed, while she went to the bathroom, leaving the door ajar so he could hear her.

"That doesn't make it alright." he called.

"I know," she started the shower, raising her voice as to be heard over the water, "But I really don't think he meant to seriously hurt me. If it weren't for the counter being there, I would've been fine."

"What do you mean?" he said, voice panicky, "Did you pass out?"

"Well, yeah, but I'm alright now."

"Weren't you supposed to come back last night? How long were you out for?"

"Overnight," she sighed, stopping the shower; she didn't use shampoo, only rinsed the blood out of her hair, "But I reckon I also fell asleep for the night, not just because I was unconscious." She walked out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel and using another one to dry her hair.

"C'mere." he said, and she sat down on the bed next to him, as he took her hands in his, "I know you said it's fine, but I want you to know that the Potters really won't mind if you want to come and live with us."

"Thank you," she smiled, "But I can go to Sadie's next time I'm off school. I just didn't want to bother her with all of this right now, and-"

"Sabrina." Sirius said suddenly.

"What?"

His gaze had drifted from her eyes to their hands as she spoke, and from there is was hard to miss the tattoo of the Dark Mark on her forearm. In all of the drama, she'd forgotten her concealment charm. She followed his gaze and her eyes went wide at the realization - how could she be so careless?

"I can explain." She said. Think, Sabrina, think. Telling him the truth worked last time, right? Alternatively, he could hate you...

"I got it a few years ago," mostly true, yet again, "Sam asked me if I wanted one, and I was, like - thirteen? fourteen? - at the time, and I thought it looked cool, so I said yes." It was not too far from the truth. Sirius was silent, she couldn't tell whether he believed her or not: probably the latter. "I use a concealment charm on it now, because I hate it. I didn't really know what it meant when I got it."

"Sirius?" She asked, noticing that he was still staring at it. "I'm telling the truth, I-"

He nodded, "I believe you." He looked back up at her, continuing pretty much as before, "I'm sorry about Sam. Again, if, for some reason, you can't live with Sadie, just come to us. I'll give you the address, and then even if you don't come, you can still write to me. 'Kay?"

"Okay," she smiled, "Thank you." He brought her hands, which he was still holding, up to his neck, and let go so that his could go around her waist. He shuffled closer to her and buried his head in her collarbone, not bothered by her wet hair. She held on to him tightly, hating that she had practically just told him yet another lie, as if there weren't enough on the go.