The Light

Chapter 16- The Revelation

Sirius sat in the library. It was dark, and the only light came from the end of his wand and the multiple lamps distributed on the shelves and tables. Even though there were no curtains, the October sky outside was dark, and his bleary eyes knew that he'd have to get back soon, that he'd have to give up and just go to bed.

The book in front of him was unbelievably thick, and the sheer size of it made him want to groan and give up. Sure, he enjoyed reading, but his lack of sleep was quickly gaining on him. His eyes attempted to trace the words once more, but they just smudged into nothing.

Peter snored to his right, head resting on the book he'd barely read a page of. Although he had offered to accompany Sirius to the library to read up on this PTSD, he'd pretty much instantly fallen asleep. It was a gift Sirius had always marvelled at; Pete's ability to just fall asleep everywhere and anywhere.

He sighed raggedly, running a hand through his hair, distressing it to reflect how he felt inside. The librarian, doing her hourly rounds, poked her head around the shelf. Her eyes widened behind her glasses at the sight of Sirius, and she smiled warmly at him.

"Good evening, Sirius. I haven't seen you here in a while."

He'd insisted that the teachers call him by his first name. He refused to be in anyway associated to the noble house of Black.

Letting his lips curl wearily, he replied, "Hello Irma."

The woman's hair was a jet black, and her face was aristocratic and pointed. She was an equally elegant and terrifying witch, who also happened to have a soft spot for Sirius.

"You look positively dreadful," she commented, replacing some books she had in her hands to their correct places.

He chuckled, though everything he said and did was half-hearted. "Thank you."

Madam Pince shot him a good-natured glare and clucked, "Oh, you know what I mean!" Then, in a softer voice, added, "Maybe you should get to bed, get a couple extra hours sleep. And take him whilst you're at it!"

She nodded her head, and arched one disapproving eyebrow, at Peter's slouched form, as a loud snore erupted from his mouth.

Sirius looked tiredly at her. "I wish I could, Irma. But I can't."

"Well, why ever not?"

Because whenever I close my eyes, I see my Mother beating my brother, who now hates me. I see my cousin lurking in the darkness. I see my Uncle's dead body. Because I need to understand what this bloody PTSD, or whatever the hell it is, is. I need to know if I can save her. If I can save Remus.

Closing his eyes briefly, he just shrugged.

Madam Pince smiled knowingly. "Who's the lucky lady, then?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows, temporarily alert. "Pardon?"

"There are only two reasons a boy your age with your looks and charm stays up at night; either he's haunted by his demons, or he's haunted by a girl," she said, lips pursed innocently.

He allowed himself to smile and said, "There's no girl, I can assure you."

"She must be something if you're stealing into the time you'd otherwise be spending sleeping," she continued, as if he hadn't spoken.

Sirius didn't reply. He thought about it. He guessed she was something. It wasn't like she was ordinary- in fact, he almost laughed. Hermione Granger, ordinary? No, she was something.

"Ah, I know that look," Madam Pince said, her tight lips smiling.

And although he rarely did it, Sirius blushed. He tried to laugh it off, but he still couldn't shake the awkwardness and heaviness that had invaded him at her words. Why was he acting like this?