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Sirius didn’t think he would ever get used to breakfast at Hogwarts.
Louds rushes of laughter filled every corner. Smiles danced across the room like a wave of flickering brilliance- hugs and friendly punches and ruffling of hair and sneaky playful jinxes everywhere Sirius looked.
Even after a few years he wasn’t used to the informality of it. The warmth and the laughter and the complete lack of stoic tension. There were no confusing, unspoken rules that no one had ever bothered to explain to him, no yelling and taunting and fists slamming on tables. Only the relaxed chatter of teenagers trying to delay going to class.
He loved it.
He shoved several grapes into his mouth, making his cheeks puff out as far as they could go.
Normally Peter would laugh at that. But Peter was focusing on cutting his toast into tiny squares. His plate was practically empty, and it made Sirius’ stomach tighten and his chest hollow out.
He was eating too much.
Suddenly the grapes in his mouth tasted bitter and of betrayal. They sent pinpricks of pain through his head and shots of panic through his chest, but he couldn’t get rid of them.
He swallowed them quickly, ignoring the pain in his throat and the insults his mind yelled at him. He felt gross and greedy but it was too late to go back now.
He picked up another grape between his fingers. Why had he taken so much? There was something not quite real about how the grape felt as he rolled it around. He was missing just one connection to reality- not enough to really make a difference, but just enough to be noticeable.
Fixing a smirk on his face, he threw the grape at James' mouth.
But James didn’t catch it. He didn’t look at Sirius, didn’t even acknowledge him.
It stung. But James had been off lately and it wasn’t Sirius’ fault.
Sirius wouldn’t be able to cope if it was his fault.
So he picked up a croissant off the platter in the table centre. It flaked between his fingers, crumbling and making a mess that his brain promised he would pay for.
He waved the croissant in front of Jame’s face, tapping his cheek and dancing it around on his plate.
But he didn’t get a response. James was turned away from him, face completely blank.
Remus and Peter weren’t much better, either. Remus wouldn’t meet his eyes, hands carefully picking at his bagel and focus entirely on his homework.
And Peter had never been more far away. His eyes were scanning the halls, hands absently picking his toast into smaller crumbs.
They hated him. Sirius had done something wrong and now they all hated him. It made sense, really, he was only surprised they had hidden it for so long.
He dug his nails into his palm, forcing his heart to beat calmly, forcing the smile wider.
“Come on James,” he laughed. “I’ve seen Slytherin’s look happier after being told they can’t murder kittens.”
“Do you get off on being a jerk?” James asked.
His voice was empty, hollow, and he still wasn’t looking at Sirius. There was no anger, no brittleness, only a complete detached calm.
The calm before the storm.
Anxiety rattled around in Sirius’ chest, threatening to spill out of his mouth. It pierced his heart, letting his false sense of security and happiness gush out until he was left with only the rocky wariness and shards of hurt that had become the only stable thing in his life .
He forced himself to keep his eyes fixed on James. He dug his nails into his knee, keeping himself from tapping. It was cool, he was cool. Everything was fine.
“You know it,” he winked lightly. “I’m running for the title of world’s biggest asshole, do you reckon I’ll win it?”
Jame’s chair scraped against the floor as he bolted up, plate clattering against the table.
The sound sent a jolt of panic through his Sirius, his arms shooting up to cover his face. His eyes squeezed shut without his permission and he couldn’t open them. His breath caught and the world around him was hazy and distant and his heart wasn’t beating quite right and he felt like he was drowning in a sea of needles and-
Jame’s voice cut through his world, leaving it in two clean pieces. “You just have to be the victim in everything, don’t you?”
Everything was dark. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t push through the fog that separated him from reality. Everything was his fault and the weight was crushing. He was left waiting- waiting for Jame’s to yell, waiting for the blows to land. Waiting for everything to explode and all the anxieties to come true because the past few years had been too good and good didn’t last. He didn’t deserve anything good.
All he did was break everything.