The Death Debt

Chapter 3

"Merlin, I wonder what Snivellus said to earn that," James snickered when he caught sight of the dark bruises wreathed around the Slytherin's neck when he finally graced the Great Hall with his appearance a few days later. Snape didn't bother trying to hide them; it appeared to be a matter of pride, a badge of honor, to him. Once, Sirius thought he caught the greasy git pressing his finger into one of the livid bruises. Sirius pushed his food around his plate, his hands soaked in Pomfrey's pink ointment and hidden by gloves. Nobody questioned his sartorial choice; thank Merlin it was winter. James looked at him and grinned. "That's one way to shut him up."

A disgusted look crossed Moony's face for a brief second, but it was quickly ironed away. He turned his head from James and Sirius and started questioning Peter on his latest test as he tucked into his peas.

Sirius sighed. It was now or never. "Prongs, I've got to tell you something."

"Was'tha?" James asked around a mouthful of potatoes.

"I won't be going home with you this Christmas."

James swallowed the potatoes in a single, large gulp and demanded, "What? Why not?"

"I've got to go back to Grimmauld this year. Mother insisted."

James exchanged a look of worry with Peter and Remus. "What's going on? Is something wrong? She's never cared where you went before so long as it wasn't to a Muggleborn's house."

Sirius knew what they were thinking; his mother's support of the Dark Lord wasn't exactly a secret. No one would dare accuse her of anything, not without proof, but everyone knew. This sudden insistence that he return home had his friends on edge. Was she going to introduce him to her social circle, as she liked to call it? Was he expected to go to a meeting? Would he be there? They had all heard whispers, rumors- nothing concrete, nothing that would cast even a shadow on these ''Death Eaters.' But people would sometimes go missing, gone forever, or else returned in bits and pieces.

They called themselves a political party. Others said they were a cult. They believed that Muggleborns should be expelled Hogwarts and the Ministry, that the Statute of Secrecy be removed, that the ancient, Dark magics be restored.

"Don't go," James said. "It's not like she can come here and drag you to Grimmauld by your ear."

"I have to. I can't get out of this, not this time," Sirius lied. He looked around at his friends' wide and terrified faces, feeling rotten. "Can I borrow your invisibility cloak over the holiday? Just... well, just in case."

"Of course." James clapped his hand on his shoulder. "Whatever you need, Padfoot."

"And if you need one of us to come and get you, just say the word," Remus said. Peter nodded in agreement.

Sirius gave them a wan smile, and his eyes drifted over to the Slytherin table where he caught Snape's dark gaze. Sirius gave an almost imperceptible nod and Snape smiled at him before turning to speak to Priscilla Yaxley, laughing at whatever she had just said.

*****

Sirius sat in the compartment next to Remus and stared gloomily out the window as the Hogwarts Express rattled into London. The sky was thick with grey, swollen clouds that threatened to erupt with rain at any moment. He could hear James and Peter playing cards, their voices hardly more than a whisper, as if too afraid to disrupt the dark pall that had overcome them. As the train pulled into the station, the others all placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as they passed, and Sirius felt a little like a corpse in its coffin, laid out for the family to view and mourn.