Under strange circumstances

Chapter 22

Sirius

If I could, I would be doing with Remus what I can only assume Lily and James are doing now, except I can't.

After a bit of toast and butter, Remus- still exhausted from last night- has passed out on my lap, and I'm left with only the TV and some unopened mail as company.

I tentatively reach out and grab the top letter, which looks like a howler (how do I know what they look like? I've grown up with my biological mother sending me them almost weekly). I feel relief spread through me as I notice that the elegant scrawl on the front is Fleamont's writing. I open it to find the soft voices of the old Potter couple drifting lazily through the air.

Dear James and Sirius,

We hope you and your friends are having a blast.... not literally; please don't touch my potions, they're dangerous and you know that-

Oh Fleamont dearest hurry up will you, I want to get this done before Audrey's second cake is cut! It smells ever so good-

All in good time, darling, but please be quiet now. I'm trying out one of those new howler things, and they pick up everything that is said..Now where was I?

You were telling the boys in a most boring manner about how you wished that their friends are-

Oh yes! I hope you are all having a wonderful time, and not getting up to any......mischief, if you get what I'm implying there..

Oh don't be so vulgar my dear, and come on, they've started giving out slices of cake!

Yes dearest, go out and save me a slice while I finish this up.

Okay, give them my love, Fleamont!

*sigh* yes darling.

Okay, so, boys, no mischief, we love you, don't burn the house down!

Get to school on time next week, will you?

Love,

Mum and Dad

I smile as the howler folds itself up neatly and floats down onto Remus' back, which is rising and falling gently as he sleeps. I shuffle through some muggle bills, skim through the newspaper, and finally lay my eyes on two letters, both addressed to me. My heart in my throat, I reach for the smaller one first, as the other one most definitely is a howler from Walburga Black.

The small one, I'm relieved to find, is from Regulus.

Dear Sirius, It reads.

I'm sorry about what happened at school. This is a reminder that I love and I miss you. Also congratulations on your boyfriend, I've been watching you fall for him for quite a while now.

In other news, my girlfriend and I are going well...still haven't introduced her to our parents.

Mum and Dad are fine too, by the way. I know you say you hate them, but I also know that's a lie. It's hard to stop loving someone completely, trust me, I know. I used to try and hate you, but it never worked.

I really do miss you, Sirius.

One day, when we're older, let's leave the Black family behind forever, okay? We can be proper brothers again. I don't even know what I'm writing anymore Sirius.

Just stay safe, and remember I'll always love you.

Regulus.

P.S. I don't mean to end this on a bad note, but mum's sent you a howler. I heard the stuff that went into it, and I'm not going to lie; it's not pretty. I would tell you not to open it, but I know that you'll open it anyway. All I can say here is brace yourself, and again remember deep down, she still loves you.

I smile at the sheet of parchment as I put it down. Regulus is right; I'm not just gonna throw the howler away without listening to it.

I gently disentangle myself from Remus' dozing form, and tip-toe into the kitchen, the howler clenched in my shaking hand. It's not like I haven't had one of these before, but that doesn't make them- her -any less scary or hurtful.

I close the door behind me and tentatively open the envelope, breathing deeply-

A disgrace! The harsh words ring in my ears and seem to bounce off the walls. I grip the chair in front of me and the howler continues, spitting foul profanities at me and echoing in my mind. I can't focus on the words, and I only catch little snippets of the screaming as I sink down into a kitchen chair, laying my forehead on the table and placing my hands near my ears, ready to block the sound if I become completely unable to take it.

.....words cannot convey the shame I feel when I lay eyes on the pictures around the house which include your wretched form. You are nothing, nothing. And one day, when the dark lord returns, you will beg at my knees, for forgiveness, and I will not yield. You will die a traitor, and your friends will die, and I will feel nothing but distaste....

It goes on and on. I feel the words 'please stop,' escape my lips but I do not hear them. All I can hear are the screeches and profanities thrown at me, rendering me useless.