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Sirius black had always been afraid of mirrors, especially in the dark.
The mirror always showed him what he despised most of all: a liar and a coward.
He was always perceived by others as the one smiling and laughing, looking perfect and loved by all. His mother knew the truth; he was a disgrace and a disappointment( famous words of Walburga Black at least ). And now even the ones who he loved dearly, his marauders (could he even call them his anymore?), were burdened with the cracks in his demeanour.
Sirius black had two things on his bedside table: a glass and a wand. This is the story of the day he forgot and nothing was the same anymore.
Sirius black had successfully cried himself to sleep after hours. “This wouldn't have happened if you were as perfect as you claim to be, as perfect as you should be” a voice in his brain whispered. He told it as politely as one could if their own brain, the traitor (like you) whispered suicidal thoughts, to shut up and mind their own business (like you should have)
So he diverted his attention back to the matter at hand. Water. He had of course forgotten his wand tonight.(idiot) The voice sounded eerily like his Moony. No, like Remus. But not like the gentle idiot he’d get for disturbing Remus while he read a book, it was more harsh and cruel like he had just destroyed his trust, which he had. The voice in his head just laughed
Trying to shake off the thoughts, Sirius pushed off the curtains from his bed. Peter’s curtains were closed, James was still snoring and Remus still hadn't come back (Who should he come back for? You? Pathetic). Normally, when Remus wasn't here or they had a fight, petty ones like they always had, Sirius would sleep beside James who would readily take him in. Now Sirius doubted James would even open his curtains for the likes of Sirius Black.
Peter would always get something from the kitchens for Sirius on bad days. Peter knew he wasn't the best with words so he took care of them in the way he knew. But recently Peter acted so nervous and fidgety around Sirius as if he was scared.(Scared? Maybe. But scarred? Definitely. He hates you, like he should)
He hates you
He hates you
He hates you
He hates you
The voice chanted in his head
Sirius Black always thought that Remus's sweaters smelled like a safe place. They were warm and soft and so much bigger on Sirius. He was practically wrapped in them, sheltered from the rest of the world. It made him feel small yet loved. It was strange at first, feeling small but not insignificant. But then he got used to it, that was probably one of his first mistakes.
‘Screw it!’ He thought. The wand was on the dresser…. in front of the mirror.
Sirius gulped. He headed forward with slow deliberate steps, so as to not wake his friends.(Friends, really? Knowing your true self at last, do they even like you?). He grabbed his wand and in that moment his intrusive thoughts won. He looked up at his reflection, his nightmare
He was scared
He wasn't brave
He wasn't a gryffindor
He never should have thought any of those things.
The curtain was slightly left open, as always for Peter. The moonbeam from outside highlighted Sirius's face and accentuated his features in a way that was practically taunting. Reminding him of the family he left but never forgot, the one that erased him as if he never existed. The features he was complimented about weren't just his, they were of The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black where he was an outcast, just a black spot on their great legacy. In the past, he always reluctantly went to James or Remus when he felt down. Now the worst part is that no matter how far he ran he had no one to run to. (How selfish can you be?) The voice said, exasperated as if it were asking a wall to walk. (Remus’s entire life could have been ruined, he could have been sentenced to death, but all you can think about is yourself ! And you called yourself his friend. )
James lost his trust in you too, just like Regulus. He remembered Regulus' pleading face the night he left. If you were less of a coward, you probably could have saved him from their clutches. He wouldn't be so miserable all the time, it's all your fault.
All your fault the voice echoed
All my fault he echoed
All my fault he believed
His vision was slightly blurry, all he could see was the mirror. Hands shaking, he grabbed his wand and looked up. There it was…his reflection. The moonbeam was practically assaulting him now. That would have made my moony laugh he thought, it wont anymore.
Light from the slightly open curtain highlighted his face, accentuating my features in a way that was practically taunting. It was unfair. Was it unfair if you brought the situation upon yourself? And if you caused pain to so many people isn't it only fair that you get punished?
The person in the mirror looked eerily like his father. Disappointed in all that had happened, in him.
‘Tut. tut. You see sirius i dont like punishing you. But I have to. To make you learn from your mistakes. Do you understand?’ Sirius whimpered and nodded slightly.’ Use your words, boy.‘His father screamed. ‘Do - You - Understand?’ Orion’s words were slow and deliberate. ‘Yes, I-I understand, father.’ Sirius swallowed, knowing what was to come. ‘Now, now, Black men do not stutter.’ And he struck so hard, Sirius' vision had gone black after that.
The scars of that day had long faded but the memory was still fresh.
The eyes of the reflection were the same as that of Regulus. They were no longer lively or happy. They were red and puffy, like Regulus’s had been the day I left him alone in the ancient and noble house of black. His eyes were silently pleading( “Siri, come back he said” the last time he called me that, then after it was always Sirius with a smirk or if Regulus was feeling particularly sarcastic then ‘dearest brother’.) They were resigned to the fate that Sirius had carved for him.
Prongs never looks me in the eye anymore. He always forgave me no matter what he did. But after that night, he acted like usual but everything had changed. He was so formal and distanced as if, if he stepped any closer a landmine would go off. Why should he want to come closer to you? Why should he love you?
Peter, ever the mediator, tried to maintain a sense of normalcy. He, on Prongs' request, kept tabs on Remus. Every night, without a silencing charm(I assumed it was on purpose), Peter told James about Remus. And every night I heard, my heart broke a little more. Do you even have one?
“Monster” Snape had called Remus, sweet, enchanting, lovely Remus, who never could understand his own worth. Remus was not the monster, he was. He had not only hurt his friend, he had made him feel used, made him feel like a puppet, made him feel like all the things he was trying to escape, made him feel like all the things Sirius wanted to say weren't true. But it was too late now. And Sirius was a coward, he could never say any of that to Remus’s face anyway.
Lily glared at me at every meal, as if it were some satanic ritual. He stopped going to them about a week ago or at least avoiding it as much as he could, which was fine, eating made him feel awful. He felt like throwing up, he retched but nothing came out. He felt empty and hollow like someone had scooped out his insides. The girls had stopped talking to him(courtesy of Mary and Marlene) and Severus had the nerve to actually smile at him every single time they passed in the hallway as if this was a plot we hatched together. Do you think you are any better than him?
Lastly, Remus. Beautiful, wonderful, kind Remus, who deserves all the chocolate in the world, who Sirius didn't deserve. Remus, who he made sorrowful, feel unwanted and unloved, though his life’s purpose was to do the exact opposite. What made you think you could do that?
He would do anything to see him laugh again and smile or even talk to him one last time. What makes you think he would want to even look at your face? You are a Black after all. What did you expect? Did you think that sheer determination could override generations of evil genes?
If Sirius wasn't starving and sleep deprived he maybe would have understood how hollow that logic was. But if his following course of action was more evidence that he was not. He sat there in front of the mirror, buried neck deep in suffocating thoughts that would haunt his nightmares, if only he ever slept. Then mechanically, when James' alarm sounded, Sirius got up and headed to his perfectly made bed, where no one would bother him, because no one cared.
It took four more nights for Sirius to finally break. He sat in his dorm, one that now seemed foreign to him without Remus and the warmth he brought,in front of a mirror, not fancy like they were where he belonged, just plain yet menacing. He stared at it for hours pointing out every flaw, every imperfection, every bad memory and every good one just to remind him what he lost.
He finally had enough. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, though it did nothing to stop his hands from shaking, nor his thoughts from spiraling.
He thought of everyone he loved
James loved him, right?. James is loyal and values trust. Do you think he could love someone as untrustworthy as you?
Well then Peter. Peter hates conflict and you cause nothing but that.
Remus . Even Sirius knew the answer. Really? Think again, black sheep.
Black sheep…. Was he still the black sheep amongst marauders? No he wasn't! Some part of his brain screamed but it was muffled among the louder, crueler ones.
He was the reason they split up. The reason James and Peter had to choose between their best friends. The reason Remus had no one. The same way that Regulus had no one at their house to look after him. The same meek part of his brain tried to protest and Sirius didn't even realise why until he opened his eyes. The mirror was shattered. Sirius wasn't even shocked, he nodded at the pieces as some were sneering back at him. His mothers voice sprang to his head making comments he tried to ignore, but maybe he shouldn't, maybe it's why he ended up like this. Maybe if he would have been perfect like she was teaching to be, he wouldn't have ever met Remus, and then he couldn't hurt him. He briefly wondered why Peter or James didn't wake up, maybe he had cast a muffiato without remembering it or maybe they just didn't care anymore. The images stared, sneered, snickered and laughed at him.
They depicted everything he hated about himself. Every feature that he hated, stood out and glared. But this time Sirius Black did not spiral. He did not think of all his faults and his imperfections. This time the voice in his head did not speak, it did not have to.
This time the moonlight did not show his pale skin but the blood splattered all over the wooden floor. The moon that reflected in the mirror he used, gleamed red. Somewhere far away a wolf let out a broken howl. It knew its mate was gone. But Sirius could not hear it. His face was pale, covered in blood, a ghost of a smile still on his lips. The images of the mirror no longer scowled at him, they smiled smugly looking at a joke, a joke he now shared.
Sirius Black was no longer afraid of mirrors, not even in the dark.