until the end || wolfstar || marauders

chapter fourteen

TW - self-harm, mentions of abuse

James guided Sirius up to their room, still shaken and sweaty. Remus' curtains were drawn. 

If Sirius didn't know Remus was annoyed at him, he would've gone and laid with Remus, but Sirius knew he wanted space, so he didn't intrude. Instead, he assured James he was alright, and went into the bathroom, to have a shower. 

Whenever anything happened and Sirius needed to calm down, he went and took a shower. He was always able to use it as an escape. He could forget about everything, and focus on the sound of the water hitting his body. He felt he could get out and start over, everything having been washed away by the water. No one could see you cry in the shower either, Sirius thought, and at Grimmauld place, that was always a bonus.

Sirius took off his shirt, trying to ignore the neat slashes along his chest. They were neat and deliberate. Someone had put them there, to cause him pain. They were still fairly pink, as apposed to Remus' silvery faded ones, even though he had gained most of them months and months ago in August. It was nearly November now. Sirius wondered if they would be less noticeable if he had let Mrs Potter look at them sooner, rather than leaving them untreated for a week. 

He looked down at his wrists, at the scars he had put there. Not in the same way as Remus'. Sirius had put them there deliberately, to cause him pain. Some were years old, some were a few months old. The newest were from that week in August after he had run away. He didn't do it at Hogwarts. He had no reason to usually. He had once or twice, after the incident last year with Remus, but he had felt he deserved it after putting Remus through everything. Remus had had every right to be angry at him, and he was, a bit, but he couldn't stay angry. Sirius was more angry with himself than Remus ever was at him. 

So he had put those marks there to remind him that he messed up. That he deserved that pain. That's what Walburga had always done. By the time he was 6, any time he messed up, did something stupid, knocked over this heirloom, or that vase, or said something he shouldn't have, she had cut him. A neat slash, usually on the backs of his legs. She used to heal them very quickly when he was younger, but as he grew, she let him sit with the cuts for longer, let them hurt longer. 

She would always say she was just teaching him a lesson. And Sirius had believed her at first. It wasn't until he had got to school, and James had asked one evening in their first week, 'hey, how come you have all those scars?'. Not to be mean, or rude, or invasive, just a kid being curious. And Sirius had said, 'my mum, teaching me. Does your mum not do that or something?'. He had said that last bit as a joke, thinking that everyone's parents did that. It was just normal for Sirius. And even at age eleven, hearing his new best friend say that sentence so casually had broken his heart. Sirius had been so confused.

And now, he knew it wasn't normal to have been hurt when he messed up, but he had grown so used to it, he almost craved it. 

And tonight, he had messed up. He had hurt Remus, and he deserved to be punished.

Sirius closed the toilet lid and sat down. He opened the bathroom cupboard and found the bandages that were kept in there. He took his wand from his trouser pocket, pointed it at his left forearm, and whispered 'diffindo,' the same curse his mother used to use on him.

Almost instantly, a thin, red line appeared on his forearm. It stung worse than Sirius remembered, probably due to the fact he hadn't done it in so long. The relief Sirius felt was dizzying, so he found a new place on his arm and whispered the spell again. And a third time. A few droplets of blood began to drip down his arm, so he clenched his wand between his teeth, still holding out his left arm, and began wiping the blood with a square of toilet roll. That stung alot, and Sirius gasped. His wand fell out of his mouth, making a loud clattering on the floor.