Sirius Expelled

Sirius Expelled Part 5

Sirius awoke on his floor, again, something that was becoming too common as of late. Surprisingly, this time he wasn't in pain or sore. The pain from his chest was gone, and Sirius could breathe again. He slowly breathed in and out, feeling that calming feeling of peace in his body. The breaths were life saving, but it also stung his throat, which felt dry and stung.
"Kreacher!" he croaked and his voice caved.
He winced as his throat stung, but the house-elf appeared in front of him.
"Yes, Master Black?" he asked, bowing, but his eyes looked disgusted at Sirius.
"Get me a glass of water." Sirius commanded him.
The elf bowed again, whispering under his breath, "Disgusting, revolting, blood-traitor scum."
"Go!" Sirius snapped, not in the mood for the elf's antics.
Kreacher Apperated away, and Sirius sighed. He couldn't get the young girl's face out of his mind. She was maybe 11, 12, so terrified. She had clutched her wand in her fist incorrectly and hadn't sent a single spell at him. She was powerless. The guilt ate at his stomach in a way he couldn't control. Sirius fidgeted around his room as his stomach turned around and around. How many were dead? How many were wounded? Had any of it been Sirius's fault?
The tell-tale crack of Appreciation pulled Sirius from his stressed thoughts. He grabbed the glass from Kreacher and drank it down , feeling his throat relax as the liquid poured down his system. When he could talk again, he turned to Kreacher.
"What happened?" he asked, urgently.
"Well, Master Black had a panic attack when he returned from his attack. After he passed out, Mistress Black sent him to his room. She will want to know that the young Master Black is awake."
Without another word Kreacher left the room, leaving Sirius confused.
"I hate this stupid Mark." he grumbled to himself.
The guilt kept rolling around his stomach and Sirius gnashed his teeth as energy built in his system. He wanted to run away, to be free. But even if he did, where would he go? He was alone in this world. Just Sirius, his demon mother, and cruel father. That's all he had. But with the guilt he felt something else in his stomach. Loneliness. Sirius had been alone for forever, but he wasn't just alone. He was lonely. He felt like nobody could see him, and that he barely existed. Sirius couldn't bear the feeling of sadness in his stomach, sending him rolling with guilt and mixed feelings. With no energy left for dealing with the emotions, Sirius rolled to his side and shut his eyes, letting the pull of sleep tear him out of the world.
Sirius slept through the night and deep into the next morning. Each mealtime Kreacher brought him food. Yet his mother never summoned him, or even said a word to him. All he knew was that he couldn't leave his room.
The isolation, with the only contact being Kreacher, who never said a word, began driving Sirius crazy. He began mumbling incoherently to himself, to keep himself occupied. The letter's to Remus grew and grew, spanding dozens of pages. He didn't have energy or strength to transform into Padfoot, and to stop struggling so much. Sirius almost felt himself wishing for his mother's torture, the stabbing words and pain, because it made him know he existed. The time moved at a strange pace, something Sirius struggled to understand. There were too many times that he felt himself losing hope in his heart. Felt himself slipping into memories of his Hogwarts times again, and when he came out he felt longing for the joy of his feelings. And everything passed. Again and again the memories came and went, slipping through Sirius's mind like water through his fingers.
Until one day the cycle finally ended.
Sirius was lost in thought, remembering a funny memory of when the Marauders had jumped off the roof to try to use a levitating charm on each other. The thrill it had brought with the fear of the falling, gave Sirius his simple adrenaline to live. But as Remus was sending a pillowing charm at the last second after their spells had failure, his door flew open.
Walburga was standing in his doorway, a slight smirk on her face.
"Sirius Black." she said in a deadly whisper.
Sirius's eyes lifted, dazed and glassy. His hair was tangled and knotted, life drained from his body. He was slumped against his bed, unable to sit himself up. Something in Walburga's eyes was disgusted but also pleased. She had finally broken Sirius's spirit.
"Sirius Black," she repeated to her son. "You're back, my son. My perfect heir. It only took 12 days."
Sirius's head wheeled with this information. 12 days? He'd been living in this numb cycle for 12 days? He let out a shaky breath and sighed to himself. How could he keep going like this? Sirius blinked a couple of times, not knowing how to react.
"You're father and I are expecting you for dinner in half an hour. Wash yourself up and come down."
Walburga turned and left Sirius alone again, still dazed and lost. Walburga's words rang in his ears. He was broken. He was ready to give in and do whatever his mother wanted. But with no motivation to keep going, he pulled himself up and into the bathroom. Sirius picked up a small cloth and doused it in water. He flinched slightly as the wet feeling on his face felt unfamiliar. Quickly, he scrubbed at his face, not wanting to catch sight of his eyes. And yet, he couldn't stop himself. They were dark and hollow, no spark of mischief in them. It seemed like he had no life, no joy. Just death. Sirius ran a brush through his hair and it fell in front of his dead eyes. He didn't bother slicking it back, instead letting it hide his face. As he went back to his room, something caught his eye. A calendar, with the date. Somewhere deep in his brain it clicked. The dates of the full moons that he'd memorized for the next 20 years. And tonight was one of those nights. He stumbled to the floor, thoughts of Remus running through his brain.
"No, no, no." he whispered. "No!"
The panic began to build in Sirius's chest again, as he tried to force it down. He clenched his teeth and clawed at the ground with his nails, trying to breath, trying to stop the feeling of being out of control. He punched his hand, hard, into his bed post, feeling a slight bit of relief from the pain in his fist. But it sent enough relief to calm the panic. He needed to be strong, for Remus. Sirius slowly ran his nails over the skin on his arms, feeling a cold thrill at the feeling of the sharp tips scratching them. Suddenly, he sped it up in an instance, and pain raced through his arm. A four-inch long scratch appeared on his arm, the area around turning red, the direct scratch turning white.
Relief. Relief. Relief.
    Relief was all Sirius felt from the pain.
    Relief. Relief. Relief.
    He shut his eyes and breathed deeply, feeling the rush of adrenaline slowly fade through his bloodstream. After a few more breaths, he stood himself up. Slowly, he walked down the stairs, fear slowly clouding his brain. His shaking legs nearly gave out when he was close to the bottom, but he hauled himself forward, to the dining room. Swallowing nervously, he entered the room, tense and nervous. Taking a seat, he looked around to find that he was alone with his parents. Nobody from the Death Eaters was there. He was unsure if it was a good or bad sign but he knew he would be strong. Strong so that tonight, Remus could be weak.
    The dinner passed silently, the only sound being forks and knives against the plates.  Sirius was on edge as he ate, feeling nervous and scared that at any moment his mother would lash out at him. But she didn't. They ate at a slow pace, Sirius feeling the time crawl again. He kept his eyes low and tried to stay calm. Finally, the dinner ended and Sirius escaped back to his room for the rest of the night, casting a silencing charm behind him. Although it had been a prison for the last week and a half, he now had a purpose. Remus. Slowly, he moved to his window, feeling his heart pound with a refound energy. Remus. His true love. His favorite person. Remus. Moony.
    Sirius stared at the slowly rising full moon. At the last moon, he'd betrayed Remus. Tonight, Remus would transform alone, only with James and Peter. Without him. A pang of loneliness stung Sirius's heart as he thought of Remus. Beautiful, daring, strong Remus. The mastermind behind the pranks. His Remus. His love. For the millionth time he asked himself, "why?"
    Why had he done it? He hadn't wanted to, he hadn't meant to. But he had. And Sirius, for the life of himself, couldn't remember why. So he only watched, as the moon raised high in the sky. He shut his eyes, covered by the moon's rays, and felt his double heartbeat slowly pound through his chest. It felt like his heart was about to pull out of his chest and he transformed. Padfoot.
He howled at the moon, wishing, hoping that Remus would howl back. The adventures in the Forbidden Forest had been some of the best memories of Sirius's life. When they  could be free. Free to the world, but the world only consisted of them. Sirius and Remus. Padfoot and Moony. The star and the moon.
    He howled again, letting his feelings free into the night. He didn't wait for a reply from Remus. But he howled and howled until his voice went hoarse, because maybe, just maybe, Remus would answer. Maybe he would hear him. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. With a head full of maybe's, Sirius slowly fell asleep, finally happy for once.

    James slowly carried the limping Remus into the shack, laying him on the bed. Remus groaned, but choked out a weak, "Change. Quickly."
    Remus was terrified of hurting his friends again, and gave a sigh of relief as his two friends transformed into their animagi. He felt a wave of longing for Sirius that he pushed down immediately. Sirius had betrayed him. He was gone to Remus. The horrible, awful sound of his bones cracking as his body morphed into a werewolf filled the air. The stag, Prongs, flinched as Wormtail ran up his back to watch safely. The wolf stood, staggeringly tall and looked at the stag and rat. Something in its eyes looked, not angry and violent, but sad and mournful. Its eyes wandered, looking for something.
    "No, not something. Someone." James thought. "Sirius."
    The wolf made a sad whimper as he was unable to find his friend. Instead of screaming, scratching up the walls, the wolf began to circle, whimpering. He whined as he sniffed around looking for his friend, his dog friend, Padfoot. Suddenly his ears pricked and he turned in a flash. And then he was howling, louder and louder, in misery. Prongs strained his ears to hear what the wolf heard, but he couldn't. It was all silence. But whatever it was, it relaxed the wolf enough. It howled back, louder, sitting up straighter than ever. So Prongs and Wormtail watched the wolf howl, until the morning. Until the sun came up and Remus de-transformed from a mournful wolf to a peaceful, scared boy. He wasn't hurt but something seemed off with him.
    "What happened?" Remus asked when he could talk again.
    "Not much, mate." James responded, with a smile. "You just howled at the moon, but you didn't move. Not at all."
    Remus looked confused and voiced the question that all three marauders were thinking.
    "Why didn't I do anything?"
    James shrugged, not wanting to tell Remus his thoughts about Sirius. Peter gave him a puzzled look but James glared at him so he shut his mouth. So the three boys, confused but pleased that Remus was alright, split apart, leaving Remus in the shack as James and Peter transformed and ran back to their beds.
   
    The next morning Sirius awoke with a smile on his face. It immediately fell when he realized he wasn't in the shack, taking care of Remus. He was at his home, a prisoner. But now, after the time from last night, Sirius had given up. He accepted that he was alone. That he wasn't being rescued. Because Sirius didn't deserve salvation. So he decided to give in. He would be the perfect heir Walburga wanted him to be. Until he could escape, to find someone or somewhere to escape to.
    Over the next two months Sirius was a model son. He didn't step a toe out of line. He attended every meal with the Death Eaters and even Voldemort, never saying a word against them. Sometimes he went as far as agreeing to causes and voicing similar opinions as the others. If Sirius could plant himself deep into the cause, he knew he would be able to help his friends. He wouldn't be a traitor. He would be a hero. So Sirius kept with his plan, gathering information and writing it down, as much as he could. Voldemort was planning something new, something he didn't say, but Sirius knew it was happening. Sirius was willing to wait it out, because he needed to be good. Good for Remus. And for himself.
    End of Part 5.