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“Oh shit, shit, shit!” Sirius cried as he searched his room frantically for his sketchpad. He knew he had left it on his vanity before he went out for a milkshake. Which was stupid. He should have hidden it. But he really wasn’t expecting anyone to go in his room while he was gone. Nonetheless, he had come back to his bedroom door wide open, and the sketchpad gone. A million thoughts raced through his head. Maybe Regulus just grabbed it by mistake. He does have one that looks fairly similar. But what if he looked inside? Would he tell Mum and Dad? Would he blackmail me? And what if it was Mum? What if she came in to get my laundry? Sweet Merlin, I was only gone for thirty minutes, how did this shit happen?
“SIIRIUS ORION BLACK!” Sirius’s thoughts were interrupted by the screeching of his mother’s voice coming from the kitchen below. Oh fuck. She knows. I wonder if I could just sneak out the door. Sirius walked slowly and quietly down the stairs. “SIRIUS, YOU GET IN HERE THIS INSTANT!” Walburga’s voice echoed through the home. Sirius reached the bottom of the stairs and turned toward the door. He thought he might actually make it out, but his father leaned around the corner. When he noticed Sirius trying to escape, he flicked his wand, sending Sirius flying into the kitchen. Sirius landed on his arse by the island and looked up. There, he saw his sketchpad laying facedown, so he could not tell what page it was turned to.
“Oh, hi Mum,” Sirius said weakly. “What, um, what was it that you need?” Sirius looked up at his mom hesitantly. In an instant, he wished he hadn’t. He saw pure hatred peering out of her eyes. Sirius had seen hatred from those eyes many times – when he returned home for Christmas during his first year at Hogwarts after being sorted to Gryffindor, when he told his mother that his best friend was James Potter (a pureblood, yes, but also the son of an activist who couldn’t care less about blood status), when he pierced his ear, (and his other ear, and his nose), when he told her that under no uncertain circumstance would he be marrying his cousin Bellatrix, and several other times.
Needless to say, Sirius was well adjusted to being the object of his mother’s disgust. But this time felt different. Sirius knew that if she had seen what he thought she saw in the notebook, there was no coming back from this. There would be no hug after the beating that was sure to come. No halfhearted apology and assurance that the punishment was for Sirius’s own good. This time, he feared, would truly be the death of him. Sirius shrunk back against the island, feeling his body tense up in fear.
Walburga reached for the notebook. She placed her hand on the top, but she did not flip it over yet. “Care to tell me what this is?” she asked, her voice eerily calm, as though she might snap at any given second.
“Oh, that?” Sirius almost whispered, his voice shaking, trying to pull together a lie to save himself. “That’s just a notebook I found somewhere. I, erm, I haven’t even – I haven’t even looked in it yet.” He looked up again, but only for a second. His mother’s eyes flashed red with anger, and his father had approached her side.
Sirius’s father, Orion, spoke now. Rather, he roared. “DON’T BLOODY LIE TO YOUR MOTHER, YOU FUCKING BLOOD TRAITOR!” He grabbed Sirius by his long, black hair and pulled him onto his feet. Sirius tried to dodge his father, but he wasn’t fast enough. Orion’s fist connected with Sirius’s face, and Sirius felt his nose break. Blood poured out of each nostril as Sirius bit back tears. He couldn’t let himself cry; he couldn’t let himself feel any weaker in this moment. He hardened his eyes and stared at his mother, this time returning the loathing on her face. Blood dripped from his nose onto the floor as he watched his mother flip the book over. Of course, she had found that page.
Walburga shoved the sketchpad toward Sirius in disgust, as though she could hardly stand to look at it. When she spoke, it was through clenched teeth. “What, in the name of Merlin and all things holy, is this?”
Sirius looked down at the pad laying open in front of him. On the page, he saw a sketch he had drawn the week prior. Two shirtless boys laid in the grass, their arms tangled around each other, their lips almost touching. One boy sported a brunette undercut and a few large scars on his skinny chest. The other had a raven mane flowing out behind him and a short torso accentuated with broad shoulders. In the grass, just above the boys’ heads, was written Sirius and Remus.
Sirius knew there was no denying it any longer, fuck the consequences. He let the tears fall from his eyes as his knees hit the floor. “Okay, okay,” he sobbed. Sirius felt every ounce of power leave his body as he choked out the words. “I’m gay. I like boys. I’ll never be the perfect son in your stupid House of Black. I’ll never marry Bella like you want, I’ll never care about being pureblood, and I’ll always just be a piece of dirt in your eyes.” At those words, Sirius felt his mother’s broomstick come down on his back. His face smacked against the floor and his nose, which had momentarily dried up, starting bleeding again.
“Well, you’re right about one thing,” Orion spat, using his large foot to flip Sirius onto his back. “You’ll always be a piece of dirt.” Orion brandished his wand, and Sirius scurried into a corner of the kitchen, knowing what was coming. “Crucio,” Orion spoke calmly, pointing his wand directly at Sirius. Sparks flew out of the wand, and Sirius’s body writhed on the floor. Sirius wailed in pain, feeling like he was being ripped limb from limb.
No matter how many times he was hit with the Cruciatus Curse, it still hurt like hell. This time, though, it seemed even worse. The torture felt as if it would never end. Maybe this is it. Sirius thought to himself. Maybe this is where I die. His pain grew and mixed with mental anguish as he thought about the possibility of dying in this house. Dying in front of the two people he hated most in the entire word. Dying without revealing his true self to his best friends. But worst of all, he thought about dying without telling Remus how he felt.
Orion kept the curse focused on his son while Walburga began burning Sirius’s arms with the end of her cigarette. She ripped the jewelry from his ears, causing more blood to hit the floor. Just when Sirius felt he was about to pass out from the pain, Orion lifted the curse. Sirius fell flat on the floor, trying desperately to steady his breathing. Walburga spat in his face. “Stand, boy,” she ordered.
Barely able to muster the strength to do so, but terrified of the consequences of disobeying, Sirius forced himself onto his feet. Walburga and Orion watched him struggle with sinister looks on their faces.
Once Sirius was fully risen, albeit leaning onto the island for support, Walburga spoke again. “Out. Get out of my sight,” she spat.
Gladly, Sirius thought. I just hope I can make it up the stairs.
Sirius pushed himself off of the island and turned toward the stairs. He had only made it halfway across the kitchen when his father screeched, “Just where do you think you’re going?”
“T-t-t-to my room, I guess. That’s what you want, right? Me out of your sight?” Sirius didn’t dare to turn and face his parents again.
“Oh, no, you little bastard,” Walburga spoke, her voice so quiet she had to lean in to make sure Sirius heard every word. “You no longer have a room here. This is the last day you’ll spend in this home. You may go and retrieve your school items, but then you’ll need to find somewhere else to go. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black has no room for homosexual, muggle-loving, blood traitors.” She paused, staring at Sirius’s back, as if daring him to contradict her. Sirius stood in shock for a moment, his blood boiling. Something inside him snapped.
“Fine,” he finally spat through fresh, angry tears, turning sharply toward his mother. “Fine. I’ll go. I’ll get my shit and go. But I hope you two are proud of yourselves. Kicking a fifteen-year-old to the streets, with nowhere to go. All because he doesn’t fit into your idea of perfect. Your perfect, homophobic, pureblood only, wizard ruling, muggle hating world. Well excuse me if none of that shit sounds perfect to me. It sounds bloody fucked up.” With that, Sirius mustered all the physical strength he had left in his body and ran up the stairs before his father could curse him again. He started throwing things left and right into his trunk, though he could barely see what he was grabbing through his tears. When he had shoved as much as he could into his trunk, he stood up to see Regulus standing in front of him.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Regulus said quietly, looking at the ground. “I heard everything.”
“Yeah, Reg, I’m going. I’m getting the fuck out of here. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll come with me.” Sirius grabbed his trunk and pushed past Regulus toward his door.
Regulus placed his hand gently on Sirius’s shoulder. “Siri, you know I can’t leave. I’m not brave like you. I can’t stand up to them.” Sirius shrugged off his brother’s hand and kept heading for the door. He didn’t have the strength to deal with Regulus’s whining. “But I’m proud of you.” Sirius stopped at those words. He turned to face his brother. “I’m proud of you, Sirius. I want you to be happy. I want you to live your truth and be happy with whoever that boy in your book is.” Sirius dropped his trunk and pulled his brother close.
“Thank you, Reg,” Sirius whispered in his brother’s ear. “Stay strong, okay? Just lay low and make it to September. I’ll see you at school.” With that, Sirius picked up his trunk again and headed down the stairs. When he reached the bottom, he didn’t even bother speaking to his parents. He grabbed his sketchbook from the counter, shoved it into the top of his trunk, and stomped out the door.
Sirius walked four blocks carrying his trunk before he had to stop and rest in the nearby park. He felt lightheaded, his nose was still bleeding sporadically, and his joints ached from the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. He knew where he needed to go – James’s house. That’s where he always went when things got bad. Except, now they were really bad. Usually, he was able to use Floo Powder and just show up in James’s sitting room. This time, though, he had a feeling his mother wasn’t letting him anywhere near the fireplace. He was on his own, no House of Black assistance to be found. James’s house was only ten more blocks away. But Sirius’s legs were still shaking, and his trunk was far too heavy. The sun was setting, and Sirius considered just sleeping here for the night. There was a nice bench under a tree that could keep him fairly dry if it rained.
Just as he was about to drag his trunk toward the bench, an owl approached. It wasn’t just any owl, though, it was James’s owl, Artemis, delivering James’s latest letter. Sirius howled with laughter at James’s impeccable timing. He slid the letter off Artemis’s leg and asked the tawny owl to wait just a moment. Sirius scanned the letter briefly and flipped the parchment over. He dug a quill out of his trunk and wrote, “James, it’s an emergency. I’m at Bowers Park. I can’t go home. I need help. Sirius.” He tied the letter back to Artemis. “Fly quickly, please, Arty. Thanks for the note.”
Sirius watched the bird disappear into the pink and orange sky. He sat on the ground, leaning against his trunk, and began to sob again. He wasn’t sure how he still had tears left in his body, but he knew he needed to cry. He let the tears take over him as he folded himself onto the ground. Sirius laid in the grass sobbing, self-loathing consuming him more and more, for what seemed like days, but was probably less than an hour. He didn’t raise up from the ground until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. “Sirius, what the hell, man?” he heard a voice say softly.
Sirius looked up into the face of his best friend, James. “Oh, sweet Merlin, Sirius, what have they done to you?” James cried, seeing the blood and bruises covering his friend’s face. Sirius couldn’t speak. He just fell into James’s outstretched arms and cried harder than he had all night. James’s father, Fleamont, was there with him. He sat on the ground with the boys and placed a hand on Sirius’s back. “Sirius,” Fleamont whispered softly, “Sirius, whatever it is, you’re okay now. You’re safe here with us, and you always will be.” Sirius sat silent for a few moments as his tears finally dried. He finally swallowed hard and looked into the eyes of his best friend.
“Thank you. Thank you for coming. I – I – I can’t go back. They kicked me out,” Sirius finally spoke. “I don’t have a home anymore,” he choked out, tears threatening to spill out once more.
Fleamont took Sirius’s hand and helped him to his feet. “Don’t be silly, son. Of course, you have a home. How many times have Mia and I told you that you and James are basically brothers? Did you think we were joking?” he chuckled lightly. Fleamont through his arm around Sirius’s shoulder. “Now, grab your trunk and hold on, son. We’re going home.” And with that, Fleamont took hold of James with his other arm and took the boys to the Potter home with side-along apparation. Not Sirius’s favorite way to travel by any means, but preferable than the alternative of walking ten more blocks.
When the three landed, they were standing in the front lawn of the Potter home, where Sirius had become accustomed to spending at least a few weeks each summer. James grabbed the other end of Sirius’s trunk and helped him carry it to the front door. “You know Mum is gonna freak when she sees your face, mate,” James said to his friend. “What happened tonight anyway?” Sirius turned to face James. “I’ll tell you, I promise, but I’d rather only say it once tonight. Can it wait ‘til I can tell you and your parents together?” James nodded, looking concerned. “Yeah, Sir, ‘course it can.”
James was right about his mother freaking out. As they carried the trunk into the house, Euphemia came rushing forward. She gave Fleamont and James a frantic hug and kiss, then paused in front of Sirius. She pulled him into that tight embrace that can only come from a mother. “Merlin, Sirius. I was so worried when James told me what you wrote. Let me clean your face and heal that nose, and then we can all talk, okay?”
Sirius met Euphemia’s eyes with tears threatening to spill out of his own. “Thank you, Mia,” he stuttered out, at a loss for any other speech. He was used to her motherly love from previous summers, but it felt different tonight. Almost out of place after the abuse he had just suffered at the hands of his own parents. Not that being hit, tortured, or yelled at was anything new. But tonight, it had felt worse. Usually, when Sirius was punished, it was for a choice he made. He chose to be punk; he chose to charm his hair to stay long; he chose to believe blood status didn’t matter. He did not, however, choose to be gay. He had tried to shut that part of himself out for so long, but it wasn’t going anywhere. To be shunned, hated, for something so out of his control made him feel so small.
Pulling him out of his thoughts, Euphemia sat Sirius down on a kitchen stool and began running a warm rag over his face. James sat close by, and Fleamont pulled a bottle of Firewhiskey out of a cabinet. Typically, he wouldn’t let the boys drink (though he knew they had snuck some Firewhiskey during the previous summer), but it seemed like a night to make an exception. Once the blood was cleared from Sirius’s face, Euphemia pulled out her wand. “Okay, son, this is going to hurt for just a moment, but it’ll be over quickly. Are you ready?”
Sirius chuckled darkly. “After tonight, I think I can handle pretty much anything you throw at me, Mia.” He gave the woman a small smile, the first one that had crossed his face all night. She stroked his cheek lightly and returned his sad smile. James reached over to squeeze Sirius’s shoulder.
“Okay, here it goes.” Euphemia warned Sirius. “One, two, three. Episkey!”
Sirius felt the bones in his nose shift back into place with a loud crack. He groaned lightly, but he was right. That was nothing compared to the pain he had already endured. He reached up to touch his nose. “Thank you so much,” he said to Euphemia. “Really, thank you. I appreciate this, all, all of…” but Sirius couldn’t finish his sentence. The tears took over him again. He sank to the floor, covering his face out of shame. Here he was, in a kitchen that belong to a family that was not his own, and he was getting more love in the past ten minutes than he had gotten in the past ten years at his own home. Well, I guess I can’t say “my own home anymore. I don’t have one of those anymore.
Panic set in, and Sirius lost control of his breathing. His chest tightened and his vision went blurry. He could hear voices in the distance, probably concern from the Potters since Mia and Monty had never seen a panic attack, but he couldn’t discern what they wear saying. He had reached the point of hyperventilation when he felt hands press gently on his knees. Sirius forced himself to look up and attempt to focus on the face in front of him. As he did, he saw a blurry image of his best friend’s dark, shaggy hair come into view. “James,” he choked out. “James, I-I-I c-c-can’t breathe.”
“Shhh, Sir, don’t try to talk. Just focus on your breath. Match it with mine, just like we always do.” James slowed his breathing dramatically, lifting and lowering his hands with each inhale and exhale to give Sirius something to focus on. Sirius struggled initially, but his friend’s calm finally carried over on to him. His breath slowed and he felt his mind come back to the present moment. He saw James still sitting on the ground in front of him, Mia frantically flipping through her healing guide, and Monty staring down at him, obviously concerned but trusting his son to handle the situation.
“There you are, mate,” James spoke quietly, patting Sirius on the shoulder. “You good now?”
Sirius nodded. “S-s-sorry, I-” he started, but James cut him off. “Don’t apologize. You know you never have to apologize for that.”
James turned to his parents. “He’s okay, Mum. Just a panic attack. It happens sometimes, especially when he’s stressed.” He rose to his feet, then helped Sirius stand.
“You’re sure you’re okay, son?” Mia asked, her face a picture of worry.
“Yeah, Mia, I’m – I’m good.” Sirius managed a weak smile and let Euphemia squeeze his hand.
Fleamont pushed him a glass of Firewhiskey. “Here, son, drink this. It’ll relax you a bit. Then you can tell us what’s going on. And let’s go into the sitting room, this stool hurts my arse.”
The four of them walked to the sitting room, Sirius supported by James and still wiping away an occasional tear. Fleamont and Euphemia sat next to each other on the loveseat, and James and Sirius each sat in red, oversized, plush armchairs. They all sipped their drinks in silence for a moment before James finally spoke. “Alright, mate, what’s going on? What did those sorry excuse for arseholes do this time?” Euphemia almost scolded James for his language, but she realized she didn’t have a better word to describe the Blacks at the moment, so she let it go. Sirius stared at James quietly for a moment, as if planning what to say. When he finally opened his mouth, he said, “They found my sketchpad.”
Euphemia and Fleamont looked confused, but James shouted incredulously, “Your super-secret sketchpad that you never ever let anyone see, even me?” He looked positively mystified. “How did that even happen, Sir? You never leave that thing alone! And what was in it that they were so upset about?”
Sirius took a deep breath. He looked up, but he couldn’t meet James’s eyes. “Yes, James, that sketchpad. The one I never let anyone see. I left it laying in my room when I went out to get a milkshake. And apparently, Mum decided that was a good time to get my laundry or something. So, she saw the book, grabbed it, and looked through it, I guess. I honestly don’t know exactly how she got it. But, needless to say, she didn’t like what she saw.”
Euphemia, still sporting a rather puzzled expression, spoke next. “Well, Sirius, what did she see in the notebook?”
Sirius took another deep breath. His hands were shaking. This was it. He had no idea how the Potters would react to his next sentence, no idea if it would take away the love they so willingly gave him, or kick him back out to the streets. When he tried to form words, his mouth went dry, and he started coughing. Fleamont refilled his Firewhiskey with a wave of his wand. Sirius took another sip and cleared his throat. Here goes nothing. He raised his eyes up from the ground he was staring at. He tried to look toward Euphemia and Fleamont, but it didn’t feel right. He needed his best friend right now.
Sirius felt his eyes turn toward James. His friend saw the terror in Sirius’s eyes and realized he needed some encouragement. James wasn’t much of a sap, unless he was talking about Lilly, but he reckoned Sirius needed some positivity right now. “Sir,” he whispered, “there is nothing you could tell me or my Mum or Dad that would take away the fact that you’ve been my brother since day one on the Hogwarts Express.” James’s words brought Sirius enough comfort to open his mouth again. This time, words came tumbling out.
“She saw a picture I drew of me laying with another boy.” Well, that’s what he intended to say. What actually came out of his mouth sounded more like “ShesawapictureIdrewofmelayingwithanotherboy.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that dear,” Euphemia said, her brows scrunching together in worry.
Sirius tried again. This time he spoke very slowly. “She saw a picture I drew. Of me, of me…of me laying with another…boy.” He looked up again and saw realization cross Euphemia and Fleamont’s faces. James, however, looked confused. Oblivious as always, James asked, “Well why were you laying with a bloke, Sir?”
Fuck, he’s gonna make me say the words aloud. Fine. I’ll say it. “I’m gay, James. I was laying with a bloke because I like blokes.” Sirius voice shook for the duration of his sentence, which fit since his whole body was shaking at this point. Well, it was shaking until he felt Euphemia’s arms close around him. At some point, she had moved across the room without Sirius noticing. Now, she knelt in the floor in front of him and pulled him close. When she spoke, it was with the most loving tone she could muster. “Sirius, are you telling me those arseholes kicked you out of their home just because you’re gay?” Sirius nodded his head against her shoulder, the few tears left in his body threatening to escape. Fleamont spoke now, from his spot on the loveseat. “Son, in this home, your new home, you can love whoever you please.” Sirius couldn’t trust himself to speak in the moment, so he just smiled and nodded his head, hoping his silent message of gratitude was received.
James walked up behind his mother and placed a hand on her back. She took the cue to give the friends some time alone. Euphemia and Fleamont retreated to the kitchen, and James and Sirius took their spots on the loveseat. Sirius didn’t speak, unable to read the expression on James’s face. It was James who broke the silence. “So, you’re gay, huh?” he asked. “Is that why you suck at giving me advice about Evans?” Both boys laughed lightheartedly for the first time that night. “Honestly, though, why didn’t you tell me before?” James asked, smiling and placing his arm around his best friend.
“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell you, I just knew my life would change once I said it. Because saying it out loud makes it real. Because saying it out loud means I can’t pretend to be into Pete’s muggle bikini posters anymore. It means I have to really be me,” Sirius confessed, watching James’s face for signs of disappointment. No signs came though. He was only met with a smile and a shoulder squeeze that made Sirius cringe a bit from leftover pain.
“Sirius, I’m glad you have to really be you now. I hate this is how it happened, and trust me, I’d love to rip your fuckwads of parents limb from limb right now, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide part of yourself from me, or anyone else for that matter. If people don’t like you just because you like drawing blokes instead of babes, well fuck ‘em. You have plenty of people that love you just the way you are.”
James’s eyes were watering and hot with anger. He couldn’t fathom the pain his best mate had been through in the past few hours, both physically and mentally. Hell, he couldn’t imagine the pain Sirius felt holding in his sexuality for so long, hiding that part of himself. James silently vowed to make Sirius feel as accepted and normal as possible for the rest of their lives.
Finally able to form a coherent sentence of thanks, Sirius spoke, “Thanks man. That really means a lot to me. More than you could know. Ugh, bloody hell, that fucking hurts!” Sirius had turned his body a bit too quickly, straining the joints stretched out from earlier torture. “Sorry mate, I think the exhaustion of all this chaos and pain is hitting me, my body feels like it was hit by a troll,” Sirius apologized.
“Don’t apologize, Sir. I can’t imagine the pain you’re in right now. Let’s head up to bed, I know you need some rest.” James paused, an unanswered question arising in his brain. He smirked, looking curiously at Sirius. “Just one question though. Who was the boy in the picture?”
“What do you mean?” Sirius asked, a puzzled look crossing his face.
“Ya know, you said you drew a picture of you and another boy together. So, who is he? Who’s your crush?” James asked insistently.
Sirius chuckled. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he replied, making his way to James’s room for bed.
“Well yes, I would like to know!” James called behind him.
When they reached the room, Sirius turned to James, debating silently in his head. He knew he could trust his best mate, but it still felt like incredibly intimate information to be sharing. Especially given the fact that his crush was a fellow Marauder. “I’m not sure I’m ready to say it out loud yet. It’s just really personal to me.” Sirius admitted.
James sighed, sitting down on the bottom bunk, motioning for Sirius to join him, which he did. “I get that, Sir. I do. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me anymore. I already feel like a complete arse that you were so scared to tell us that you’re gay. Not to make this about me, of course. I just, well, you know I love you, right? Like, you’re my brother, and I hate to see you hurting, and I don’t give a flying fuck who you date as long as they make you happy.” James was crying lightly now, and he grabbed a t shirt from the floor to dry his face.
Sirius felt a warmth in his heart that hadn’t been there since before the summer holidays. A warmth that only came from true friendship and brotherhood. A smile, the most genuine of the day, grew on his face as he pulled James into a hug. “Jamie, you are not an arse. Well, you totally are sometimes, but not because I didn’t tell you I’m gay. Yeah, I was scared to tell you, but not really because I was afraid of you. More like, I was afraid of what would come next. Like, being gay in this world. With my parents. As I said before, saying it out loud makes it real, and real is scary. I’m sorry for not telling you though.” Sirius released James from his iron tight hug to reveal his mate’s smile.
James pushed Sirius’s shoulder lightly, chuckling in mild frustration. “For the love of Merlin’s saggy left ballsack, Sirius! No. More. Apologies!”
“Sorry. I mean, okay,” Sirius laughed. “Alright, I’ll tell you who my crush is, but you have to keep it between us. You can’t even tell Rem and Pete. Hell, I’m not even ready to tell them I’m gay.”
“Merlin, Sir, of course I won’t tell anyone. I do think that Rem and Pete would accept you wholeheartedly, but it’s totally your decision on when and if to tell them.”
Sirius walked to his trunk and pulled out the sketchpad. He flipped to the middle of the book, to the page his mother had thrown in his face. The page now stained with the blood of his nose. He took a deep breath and handed the sketchpad to James in silence. His friend studied the page. “Remus,” James whispered after a moment. “You fancy Remus?” he asked, shocked. Along with Pete, Remus was one of James and Sirius’s best friends. That certainly wasn’t what James was expecting, but it did explain why Sirius wasn’t ready to share his sexuality with the other Marauders. Sirius just nodded his head, blushing profusely. “How long have you liked him, Sir?” James asked.
“Um, well probably about since I first saw him on the train, and he was all fidgety and cute in his cardigan that was way too big. I mean, I thought he was attractive then. But then, as we got to know him, and he just has this personality, and he smells like chocolate and parchment, and he braids my hair, and now his cardigans actually fit him and he’s got that little stubble, and I just…” Sirius realized he was rambling and cut himself off. James was grinning like a madman.
“Oh, Sirius, you’ve got it bad. You’ve got it bad, mate.” James chuckled. “Well, goodnight, lover boy. I’m making it my mission to get you two a date by the end of fifth year.”
“James, no, you can’t tell him! Or make it obvious, or whatever! I’m not ready! You promised! And besides, I don’t even know if he likes blokes.” Sirius protested.
“Calm down, Sir, I said by the end of the year. I have plenty of time to figure that out and get you ready and comfortable. Now go to sleep, you need rest.” And with that, James climbed to the top bunk and passed out. It was not lost on Sirius that James had climbed to the top to prevent Sirius from having to exert anymore physical strength. Sirius laid on the bottom bunk and sighed. As traumatic as the night was, he honestly felt a huge relief. He was out now. At least to a few people. And those few people accepted him, loved him, and supported him. And for tonight, that’s all that mattered. Sirius fell asleep with a smile on his face, knowing he was loved at the Potter house.