This one's for the lonely, The ones who seek and find,
Only to be let down, Time after time.
This one's for the torn down, The experts at the fall.
(Comes and Goes In Waves- Greg Laswell)
It had been going on for weeks now.
Once again Sirius found himself glaring at the Slytherin table. He had told himself that he would not do so, he would think of a way to resolve the issue but to see those two dark heads bent together made his blood boil.
Of all people, he didn't need Snivellus to start chumming upto Regulas. Merlin knew what poison he was probably pouring into his brother's head, what lies he was preaching about blood purity and shit. As if Reg wasn't getting enough of that at Grimmauld Place.
Sirius watched as Snape whispered something into Reg's ear and raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting a reply. The younger Black looked at him thoughtfully and nodded, although after a little hesitation. Snape, after a pleased smile, turned his attention back to his meal.
He looked a bit too smug for Sirius's liking, too much like a cat who had cornered a rat. Frustrated that there was nothing he could do about it, Sirius dropped his fork- it clattered onto his plate a bit too loudly- and pushed his barely touched meal back.
"Mate," James's brow was furrowed in concern, one eyebrow raised in question. "What's wrong?"
Sirius glanced from him to Remus and Peter's curious looks. He couldn't bring himself to tell them- this was a family matter. Sure it was from a family that he hated but he had to tackle it himself. "Off day," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll meet you back at the dorm." Without letting them reply or argue further, he strode off out of the Hall, his hands shoved into his pockets, his head bent down.
Once the doors were shut firmly behind him, he leaned against the sturdy wood and took his hands out, surprised to see that they had clenched into fists without him realizing.
His head held a cresendo of emotions, so loud that it was deafening him. Anger, confusion, worry, frustration, anger, hate, worry, frustration, anger, worry, anger, worry.
He needed to think and he needed to be alone. Somewhere where no one would disturb him before he needed it. The real challenge would be finding a place where James wouldn't be able to find him.
His feet where moving before he had arrived at a decision, his hands pushing open the doors leading to the grounds. The night air attacked his face, the wind whistling around him. Dressed only in an untucked shirt, loose tie and trousers as always, he didn't even have his robes, cardigan or cloak to stave off the cold. Goose flesh an erupted on his arms, courtesy to the fact that he always pushed his sleeves back. He didn't care really, it was as if he didn't even notice. He just continued his trek to the Owlery.
The Owlery was really the last place someone would come looking for him, after the lowest circle of hell itself. He always moaned and groaned when any of the other three would force him to accompany them to send a letter off. The stench got to him and the bloody birds didn't like him for some reason (not that he didn't share the sentiment). It was the perfect place to hole in.
When Sirius pushed the door open, for once he didn't notice the smell, so lost in thought was he. He climbed up the winding staircase, higher and higher till he reached the topmost floor. His muffled footsteps punctuated by soft owl hoots, he ignored the luminous yellow eyes that stared at him and made his way to the window. He swung his long legs outside and dropped to the ledge just below.

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Class of 1978
FanfictionMates, dates, hates. Laughter and tears. The high you get from mischief and the pressure if examinations. Join Hogwarts's batch of 1978 in their lives of ups, downs and everything in between.