Chapter Text
For Sirius, it wasn’t new to experience a place, somewhere he used to feel safe and loved, being turned into a cage where all of his happiest memories became tainted with the touch of the present. At first it was his family home, where he used to roam the halls with a smile and a beloved younger brother chasing after him, the memories being the only thing which had kept him living under his parents’ roof after the ‘home’ had morphed into his own personal hellscape, when the silences were no longer comfortable and grew tense, causing for Sirius to silently beg for confrontation so at least he knew the inner thoughts of those around him.
Now it was his dorm, facing a similar fate.
The gold became muted, and the prideful red became blinding, but the house colours were nothing compared to the eyes he tried to shy away from – who knew hazel could look so daunting?
“Look at me!” the booming voice echoed, and Sirius’ eyes shot up from where they had been focusing on the rug, unblinking. Sirius did not meet Remus’ eyes but laid his gaze on his friend’s nose as he studied along the scar which had almost perfectly covered the bridge, knowing the avoidance would only anger the other boy further, yet – even so – Sirius couldn’t bare to see what he had always feared: disgust. Remus’ parted lips barely hid his teeth as a silent snarl weighed heavily on his tongue. Something told Sirius that the snarl would have revealed those teeth as the patience Remus usually exerted hung on a thread, preparing to snap and crush Sirius beneath it; there wouldn’t have been such hesitation had the ‘animalistic nature’ of Remus’ lycanthropy not been exploited a mere night before. Meanwhile, the usually calm voice had been metal against china, nails on a chalkboard to Sirius’ ears - the screech was short lived, but the uncomfortable feeling remained vibrating under the skin of all those present. While being the eldest, Sirius felt like a child as his hands shook, a by-product of his roommate’s towering stature which almost forced the air from his lungs despite the pair being a whole room’s length apart. As he sat on the edge of his own bed, there was a feeling of desperation within his gut, wanting to plead for his voice to be heard, to grovel on his knees with any apology he could muster, but the disappointment which hid behind James’ glasses spoke louder than any words could, telling him to not bother. It was useless.
Vaguely aware of someone speaking, realising it was Remus as the previously unfocused eyes saw the other boy’s mouth moving a mile a minute, Sirius knew that he should be listening, but the blood was rushing to his ears as his jaw clenched the moment he felt the tirade of accusations being hurled his way; it was a scene he was much too accustomed to, though not here – not at Hogwarts – and definitely not from Remus. It was an instantaneous reaction, and the words sounded like they were fighting to push past the waves lapping his ears.
Stop. Stop. Stop. Pl- “ease,” his broken voice spoke up, subconsciously hoping to break Remus’ rant, not that he had meant to verbalise his thoughts considering Sirius had not been aware he had spoken at all, or how much, until James found a much more solid voice to stop the conversation.
“Remus, just- “
“Fuck off, James, this isn’t about you – if you were the selfish bastard who threatened my life-“ Sirius flinched at the rage which caused Remus’ voice to wobble. The predominantly hazel eyes turned to molten gold when Remus' head whipped around in order to face the somewhat huddled figure of his friend, who sat still while pathetically gripping his thighs and trying to remind himself to breathe “then maybe I would give a shit! But you- well, of fucking ‘course it’d be you!”
Already, Sirius feared how this would end, and the hardened look James had previously held faltered, stepping one inch closer from where he and Peter observed the one-sided argument take place. They, too, had not been standing beside Remus which meant that James’ previous aborted attempt at making their friend slow down for just a moment failed once more as there was hardly a second between the tallest Marauder’s deep inhale and his verbal river busting past the invisible dam. “Of course it would be you – Sirius fucking Black, living up to his name, endangering people because they’re obviously so much less important than thou.” The words took on an edge of delirious humour at how obvious it should have seemed from Remus’ perspective: he was a half-blooded werewolf – how could he ever trust someone like Sirius Black? The bitter yet humoured tone died, but a sharp chuckle took its place while the hand which pointed in Sirius’ general direction now raked through the dark golden waves, tugging as if to somehow bring Remus to the present again rather than losing himself within his own mind.
“Your parents must be so proud.”
There was a silent ache for some sort of loud intrusion, or for Remus to continue speaking, but he stopped, his own eyes blinking rapidly in short succession and Sirius knew that they all were wondering ‘where did that come from?’. Not him, though. No, Sirius only had his largest fear confirmed by the very person he feared it most applied to; Sirius was, and always had been, perceived as a Black before an individual– his surname would always dominate conversations, and now it seemingly dictated his actions beyond his own sense of free will.
Trying to breathe appeared to be impossible and Sirius was somewhat thankful as he realised that holding his breath and clenching his jaw may have been the only things that stopped the tears falling freely, even if repressing his emotions accumulated pressure behind his left eye. Mentally, Sirius was planning to run, wondering how to move or do anything as he tried to keep his feelings behind a veil - partially by habit, but also because he refused to make himself the victim here. If nothing else, he couldn’t deny his involvement which led to Severus finding out how to stun the whomping willow, and therefore it seemed mute now – after all things had been said and done – to explain himself. It seemed that no one knew which path to tread.
Nevertheless, Sirius tried to find his voice as his whisper tried to fight work his way up to something less pitiful. “He was in my head." A shiver gently caused Sirius’ head to jerk sideways for a split second and his fingers twitched randomly while the grey eyes focused on the ground once more.
Still, silence. Only a low and yet still fiery whisper came as a response. “I don’t care what he said. You had … no right.” Juxtaposed to Sirius’ reaction earlier, now he heard everything; hearing everything from the ragged breaths which came from Remus to the shuffling of feet which had been accompanied by soft yet deep inhales from Peter and James respectively. In the background, there had also been the the pitter patter of a memory in the back of his mind, reminding Sirius that Remus was right. “You – You never had any fucking right -“ there was an unsettling pause, and finally his head moved up to search for some sort of reassurance, as if there would be a sign they could work on this and move past everything, or at least hoping to show he was sorry physically rather than verbally, but any hope came crashing down with the following sentence:
“And I want nothing to do with you.”
Just like that, everything was broken. There was no hope, no will, no fight. It was a be all and end all statement. Perhaps what was said may have been delivered by a swift exhale from Remus’ mouth before the boy turned to leave, exiting the room which had been encapsulated in a silencing charm, but the words weighed heavier than any scathing insults Walburga and Orion could ever come up with had ever felt. At least when it came to the punishments, the bruising alongside his scars, which littered Sirius' torso, could be taken care of while the boy's mind warped his perception of the injuries to make them out to be something deserving of pride, as if they showed that the eldest Black son wasn’t his mother and father. The scars would be reminders to anyone who would see them - that Sirius' loud and proud rebellion wasn’t for nought - that he wasn’t being stupid by not silently disagreeing with his family until it was safe to escape.
But that was just it. It was for nought, for it seemed that Sirius hadn't rejected all of his family's values as they supposed he had. In front of their very eyes, the other Marauders saw this act as a sign that Sirius wasn't who he presented himself as, whether that was due to purposeful manipulation or an alleged 'mistake'.
He wasn't just his kind eyes and exuberant enthusiasm; he was also other people's whispered secrets and his own abrasive nature. He was a smile which hid many things.
Sirius Black was dangerous.