All the Young Dudes ( Sirius' Perspective )

Fifth Year : Silver

Monday 1st September 1975

I rode my bicycle past your window last night

I roller-skated to your door at daylight

It almost seems like you’re avoiding me

I’m okay alone but you got something I need

Well, I got a brand new pair of roller-skates

You got a brand new key

I think that we should get together

And try them out, you see

 

It was ugly, Sirius thought, wrapping the bandages tightly around his legs. It was very, very ugly.

He wished he’d bothered to learn some healing spells—not that he’d be able to use them, unless he wanted the ministry of magic showing up at his house to demand an explanation for why a fifteen-year-old wizard was suddenly messing about with magic. He could imagine the looks on his parents’ faces, trying to explain: Well, you see Mr. Auror...

No. Definitely not. He’d just have to stick it out until he got to Hogwarts, where he could slip away to the library and search for something useful. Going to Madam Pomfrey was out of the question. The very idea of anyone finding out what had happened—especially an adult—made him sick with shame.

Sirius sighed, wincing as he pulled on his trousers. Just make it through the train ride...At least they’d already started to scab. He probably didn't need to worry about bleeding through the bandages.

His family didn’t speak as they made their way to King’s Cross. His mother didn’t even look at him, acting as though he were invisible—as though nothing had happened. Reg had helped Sirius up the stairs to his room, that night, after their parents left. Everything got a bit blurry after that, but he was pretty sure his brother had called for Kreacher and ordered the house elf to do something about the bleeding. He woke up the next morning with bandages on his legs, sticky and crusted with blood.

They didn’t talk about it. When he went searching for Reggie, the boy was playing chess by himself in the library. He left the moment Sirius walked in, refusing to meet his eye. Sirius supposed it didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if there was anything that either of them could really say.

They arrived at the station as a family, mother and father and son and brother, a unified front. Sirius slouched slightly behind his parents, doing his best to disrupt their polished image—his robes were rumpled, his hair mussed. He stared flatly ahead, trying to look bored as his mother went through her usual fuss with Reggie, straightening his tie and smoothing his hair and hissing in his ear. Around them, students bid their final farewells to parents and siblings. Sirius scanned the platform for his friends, but it looked as if they were already on the train.

His legs ached.

By the time their parents finally released them, Sirius was wincing, gritting his teeth with every step and trying not to flinch. He couldn’t wait to sit down, hoping there’d be enough space to prop his feet up in their car—he’d grown a few inches over the summer, and if the other marauders had, too, then things might start to feel crowded very quickly.