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The curse of the Black family often sat around Sirius’s throat like a noose. Being the heir seemed more and more like an inescapable fate, one Sirius knew he had to see through. The only time Sirius was able to shake the feeling; able to remove Walburga and Orion’s claws from his heart and dull their vehement screams to whispers, was at Hogwarts. He hadn’t thought it was possible at 11, but here with his friends was the closest Sirius ever felt to free. Most of the time.
Sirius was also learning that his past was as unavoidable as his future. “Trauma,” Remus had called it once at the end of 3rd year as Sirius had fought for breath after a particularly vivid nightmare, but Sirius wasn’t sure he agreed. The Black Family tendencies were all he knew; Andromeda and Narcissa and Bellatrix were fine, even Regulus--
He didn’t want to think about Regulus right now.
So Sirius sat in the common room with his friends the night before the Hogwarts Express left to bring them home for the holidays, and he was fine. Totally, completely, fine. His fingers drummed incessantly on his leg, and his opposite foot bounced up and down in time with an imaginary beat. His friends, bless them, knew better than to mention his rising nerves. Sirius acted his loud, energetic self with even more vigor when the anxiety crept in; like he was trying to put on a performance so captivating that it distracted even his own brain from the impending blowout at Black Manor. To those not adept at reading Sirius, he looked his normal self with a touch of excitement given the imminent holidays. But his friends knew better.
Marlene dug her hands into a bag of popcorn and pulled out a perfectly popped piece. She poised it in the air and locked eyes with Sirius. “Ready?”
“How’d you know my middle name?” Sirius asked with a wicked grin.
Marlene smiled back, all mischief, and began to count down. “3…2…1!”
The popcorn sailed through the air in a perfect arc and Sirius caught it in his mouth. He jumped up from his seat on the couch and bowed exaggeratedly; James and Peter let out whooping cheers and even Lily began to clap. Remus smiled at Sirius with only a touch of exasperation, which somehow meant more to Sirius than all the others’ cheers put together.
“Alright McKinnon, hand it over,” Sirius said as he held out his hand for the bag of popcorn. Marlene passed it his way and Sirius grabbed another piece. He ate it, then fished out another. Marlene tapped her foot in mock impatience. “Count me off, boys!”
James took this new responsibility to heart. The thing about James was that he was always willing to indulge Sirius. He would do just about anything to see him smile, Black family be damned. His Sirius deserved the world.
“Ladies and gentleman, wizards and witches!” James crowed, turning quite a few heads of other students relaxing in the common room, “areeee yoooou reeeeady!?”
Peter cheered, Remus rolled his eyes, Lily smiled. Marlene cupped her hands to her mouth and voiced the adoring cheers of a much larger audience, somehow.
“Three!” James yelled, face alight with excitement.
“Two!” Peter crowed.
All eyes turned to Remus, who huffed out a laugh and pretended to look annoyed as he said “one!”
“IT’S GO TIME!” James shouted, and Sirius sent the popcorn flying at Marlene with far too much force. It landed right in the middle of her forehead and fell to the ground.
“No, no wait--” Sirius cried, as he grabbed three more pieces and sent them flying at Marlene in quick succession. None of them made it remotely near her mouth, which only encouraged the giggles coming from his friends.
Marlene did her best to catch Sirius’s botched throws, but it was hopeless. The laughter overtook her and she doubled over, dusting popcorn from her lap as she laughed. Seeing she had given up, Sirius took a handful of popcorn and hurled it at James. Although the popcorn hit him with next to no force, James dramatically leaned backwards and flipped over the chair he had been sitting in, which caused Lily to snort. The group dissolved into laughter and Sirius glowed in the attention; the rush he always felt from making people laugh. It was intoxicating. Sirius handed the remaining popcorn to Marlene, then took a seat directly on Remus’s lap. Remus let out a soft “oof,” but made no other objection, he was more than used to Sirius craving human contact. James straightened himself back in the chair he’d been sitting in and Peter resituated himself on the couch, making use of the empty seat Sirius had left behind for his feet. Marlene and Lily shared the other loveseat, the bag of popcorn now situated between them.
“Popcorn has always reminded me of the circus,” Lily sighed, “I used to go with my family all the time.”
“What’s a sir-kiss?” James asked, causing Lily to roll her eyes once again.
“You know, with the big tents and the clowns and the animals?” Marlene elaborated before Lily got the chance. Sirius’s fingers resumed their drumming on his leg without him noticing.
“You were there, McKinnon?” Sirius asked Marlene.
Marlene looked at him and tilted her head. “You’ve lost me, Black.”
Sirius couldn't help but flinch as he heard his surname. Remus shifted underneath him slightly.
“Well,” Sirius began, in spite of the twist in his gut, “as a clown of course. Aren’t they the ones with the crazy hair and big feet?”
Marlene gasped and brought a hand to her heart in mock hurt. “You wound me!”
Sirius flashed her a grin but said nothing in return.
“Anyways, it’s not my fault I’ve got big feet, they run in the family!”
Lily laughed at this, adding “they run in the family? Must run fast given how big they are!!” The group chuckled.
Marlene swatted her arm. “I’m just lucky I look like my mom more than my dad.” Sirius’s leg started to bounce again, jostling Remus’s in the process. Remus placed a hand behind Sirius’s elbow and began tracing slow circles. Sirius leaned into the touch.
Lily made a face. “Lucky, I’ve always been told I look more like my dad.” She swiped her auburn hair back to resemble a crew cut and pouted.
“I don’t see it!” James cut in quickly. “And even if you did, you’d be the prettiest boy I’d ever seen.” Lily stared at him with an incredulous expression and Marlene elbowed her in the side with no subtlety whatsoever.
“I don’t know who I look like,” Peter mused. “James, what do you think?” James and Peter had grown up in the same town, making James the most qualified to answer.
James considered Peter for a moment. “I think…you definitely have your dad’s eyes. But your mom’s nose? You're like a…what’s that muggle toy you told me about Lily? With the rock and the body parts you put on it?”
Lily let out a long sigh before answering. “Are you referring to Mr. Potato Head?”
James snapped his fingers in the air, “yes! Exactly! Pete, you look like a Mr. Pettigrew Potato Head.”
Sirius knew he shouldn’t consider it, knew it was a terrible idea. But the voice was itching at the back of his head and he couldn’t quite quiet it. Who do I look more like?
Meanwhile, Peter shook his head with a laugh. “I suppose there are worse things.”
He had all the characteristics of the Black family. Dark hair, sharp cheekbones, pale skin.
“Besides, James,” Peter was saying, “you totally look like your mom. You’re a missus!”
But there was no denying which parent he looked like. He had Walburga’s eyes, sharp and calculating. He had her nose, upturned slightly in the perfect picture of superiority.
James looked horrified. “I am not a girl!”
“You just said it was okay if I was a boy,” Lily pointed out quickly.
He knew he had her cunning smile, her sharp tongue. Did the similarities really stop at appearances? He knew how to spit poison and kill with a look; was it all genetics?
“Yeah but that’s…that…it’s different!” James cried out. Lily’s amusement was plain on her face, but it was clear that James desperately wanted to steer the conversation away from this misstep. So Peter, ever-loyal to James, quickly took the attention off his friend and shifted gears to the other attention-loving member of their group.
“What about you, Sirius?”
Sirius’s breath stuttered to a halt, not at all prepared for this question to be directed at him. His leg stopped bouncing, his fingers stopped drumming, and even Remus’s calming circles on his arm stopped. Sirius felt utterly, completely frozen. James’s eyes widened slightly and Peter turned an alarming shade of scarlet; Sirius wasn’t sure whether he realized his mistake or if Remus had sent him a withering look.
“I think,” Remus spoke, breaking the silence, “that I look suspiciously like the mailman. Never confronted mum about it though.”
Distantly, Sirius heard the laughter break out at Remus’s remark. God, he loved Remus. But his skin was humming with anxiety and his heart was racing and Sirius knew he was coming undone at the seams.
“I’ll be right back,” he heard himself say to no one in particular, not checking to see if anyone heard him. He stood up on autopilot and his feet carried him away from his friends and up the winding staircase.
Upstairs in the dorm room Sirius practically staggered with the weight of the quiet that hit him. He dragged himself into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and stared into the mirror. His own face peered back at him, breathing hard. Walburga’s eyes, Walburga’s face, Walbugra’s. Because that was the crux of the problem, wasn’t it? No matter how hard he tried to make his own way, distance himself, he would always be hers in every sense of the word.
He began to breathe faster, powerless to stop it. He squeezed the sides of the sink hard trying to slow his erratically pounding heart, when his eyes deceived him. He looked back into the mirror and it was not Sirius that stared back, but Walburga. And she looked livid.
Sirius shot backwards from the mirror so quickly he lost his footing, hitting the ground with a thud. The sharp jolt did little to release him from the panic, and his fast breathing was making his head swim. He scooted backwards until his back hit the far wall, curling in on himself and closing his eyes. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. And when Sirius reopened his eyes, he was at Grimmauld Place.
“Sirius?” called the voice behind the door. “Are you in there?”
Sirius knew this trick; knew the importance of silence. He refused to give himself away.
“Sirius?” the voice called again. But Sirius stayed silent, willing the voice to keep walking down the hall. The seconds ticked by.
“It’s just me,” the voice came again, “can I come in?”
Sirius shook his head no against his knees, but he knew the person behind the door couldn’t see him. Whoever this was, it was far too patient to be his mother. Another moment passed filled with the ragged sound of his breathing.
“Sirius, I’m coming in,” the voice said finally, and Sirius should’ve known. It never mattered what he wished for. He heard the sound of a door opening, then closing, but he refused to look up.
“Sirius?” the voice asked, much closer than it had been before, “can you look at me?”
“Laisse-moi tranquille,” Sirius said into his knees. The steps faltered at this.
“Sirius?”
“S'il te plaît, vas-y, je ne lui dirai pas,” Sirius said, almost begging. His head was swimming from a lack of oxygen and he desperately just wanted to be alone.
“I don’t…I don’t know French, Pads,” Remus whispered, pain evident in his voice.
The nickname shook something in him and he dragged his eyes up to view the person. Remus.
“Non, non, non,” Sirius’s breathing grew impossibly faster. Remus couldn’t be here, why was Remus here?
“Pads, you need to take some breaths,” but Sirius wasn’t listening, Sirius belonged here. But Remus? Never Remus.
“Get out,” Sirius gasped, English infinitely harder than French, “before she,” another breath, “comes back.”
“Who, Pads?” Remus asked softly, true concern creasing his forehead now.
Sirius just whined in response; didn't have the energy to elaborate.
“Your… your mother?” Remus asked slowly and Sirius looked around blindly, expecting her to appear at the summons.
“Oh, Pads,” Remus sighed, “it’s just you and me.” And remembering the phrase Regulus had made them all memorize years before he said in clumsy French “juste toi et moi”. Just you and me.
The French was easier to understand, but Sirius’s hands still went to his hair at this, pulling slightly. He didn’t know how to make Remus understand and they were running out of time. He shut his eyes
“Pads, open your eyes, love. I need your help.” Sirius opened his eyes at this, desperate to help Remus even when his lungs were on fire and his veins were filled with ice.
“I need you to tell me 5 things you can see, love.”
The request was odd, but the familiarity of it made it easier to follow. How many times had they done this before?
“I see…you,’ Sirius choked out.
“Fantastic, Pads, keep going.”
“I see…” Sirius held his hands out, “I see my hands and…tile floor?” Sirius squinted at the floor he could see through his fingers; certain Grimmauld Place had nothing similar.
“Well done, Pads, what else?”
“And…” Sirius looked around, “the sink and the m-mirror”. If Remus noticed him stutter on the mirror, he didn’t say.
“How about 4 things you can touch?”
“I feel the floor and…my rings and” Sirius looked around again, the room coming steadily into focus, “the wall on my back and, and my heart beat.”
“So, so good, Pads. 3 things you hear?”
“Me breathing,” he huffed out quickly, breaths slowing slightly but still too fast, “and you and the faucet? It’s dripping?”
Remus smiled at that. “2 things you smell?”
“I smell,” he inhaled for a moment, thinking “cleaning things? And your shampoo?”
“And one you can taste?”
Sirius licked his lips. “Salt? Popcorn?”
Remus huffed a laugh. “I thought you inhaled that popcorn, didn’t realize you took the time to chew.”
Sirius blinked slowly at him, still not entirely back. Physically in a bathroom at Hogwarts, but mentally a couple of kilometers away. The events in the common room felt like a lifetime ago.
“Right,” Remus whispered, always Sirius’s calm, “let’s just take some breaths, love.”
Sirius nodded, every part of this routine painstakingly familiar but still so difficult.
“But Remus I--” Sirius hesitated, the thought seeming silly all of a sudden.
“Talk to me, Pads,” Remus said quietly.
“She-- I mean we’re…we’re, we--” Sirius’s breathing sped up a bit as his eyes darted toward the door.
“Eyes on me, okay?” Remus asked, and Sirius dragged his attention back to Remus.
“Juste toi et moi,” Remus repeated, knowing Sirius needed to hear it.
“Juste toi et moi,” Sirius mumbled back out of habit.
“You’re here at Hogwarts with me,” Remus continued patiently, “all our friends are down in the common room. Up here it’s just you and me.”
“Maman?” Sirius questioned, slipping into French once more. But Remus knew this word.
“Walburga and Orion,” Sirius flinched, but Remus needed to say it, needed to make sure it was crystal clear, “are far away from here.” Remus fought to keep his tone even, he knew that even though he hated Sirius’s parents with every part of him that hearing anger in Remus’s tone would only escalate Sirius.
“Oh,” Sirius said softly, relief coloring his features.
“Let’s take some breaths and then we can talk more,” Remus continued in his calm tone, “promise.”
Remus sat criss-cross in front of Sirius as he breathed exaggeratedly in and out. Sirius tried his best to follow, but patience was never a strength of his, and in the quiet of the room his thoughts were starting to race again. Screw breathing, he needed to explain.
“Moons,” Sirius finally croaked, “I…I thought I saw her.”
It was evident to Sirius that Remus tried hard to control his reaction to that, but some concern still shone through. “Saw Walburga?”
Sirius hated the way the name filled his stomach with lead, but nodded nonetheless.
One of the many things Sirius loved about Remus was that Remus always believed him when it counted. Sure, he laughed off his antics and rolled his eyes at Sirius’s quips, but he never belittled Sirius for these moments of doubt.
“Okay,” Remus said slowly, clearly trying to buy himself some time to think, “where?”
Sirius looked over towards the sink. Remus pushed himself off the ground and walked slowly toward the sink.
“Pads I don’t--” Remus began, but he cut himself off. He looked at the mirror, then Sirius, then back to the mirror. “Over here?”
Sirius nodded and looked down, too exhausted to even consider being embarrassed.
“In the mirror?”
Tears sprang into Sirius’s eyes and he found that he couldn’t answer. But Remus didn’t need him to.
“Because of what they were saying downstairs?”
Sirius sniffled, so tired of being anxious and so tired of being scared but more than anything else just so, so tired.
“Pads,” Remus said softly, “look at me.”
Sirius couldn’t bring himself to raise his eyes as tears began to trace pathways down his face. Another Black rule he was breaking tonight.
Remus crossed the space between the sink and Sirius and sat down in front of him again.
“Pads, can I touch you?” Remus asked cautiously. It was a tricky line to walk with Sirius like this. He was so fond of touch, sought it out with his friends at every opportunity, basked in the warmth and the love. But when his mind was half at Grimmauld Place, and the shadows melted into Walburga and Orion, touch meant pain and control and hate hate hate .
Sirius considered for a moment. He raised his eyes to look at Remus now. His Moony, with his familiar curls and kind amber eyes and patient smile. Moony won’t hurt me.
“Can I?” Sirius asked in a small voice, half of a question, but Remus knew what he meant. That it was easier for Sirius to be in control right now. So, Remus waited patiently as Sirius reached out and grabbed Remus’s hand, squeezing hard.
“Sit next to me?” Sirius asked. Remus shuffled next to him so both their backs were against the wall, hands intertwined. Sirius dropped his head onto Remus’s shoulder and breathed in Remus’s scent deeply. He smelled of tea and smoke and it was so utterly Remus and completely intoxicating. Sirius let out a long sigh.
There, in the safety of Remus’s shoulder, he confessed. “I look just like her, Remus.”
Remus hummed quietly, but the beauty of Remus was that he didn’t just reflexively dispute this. He always heard Sirius out. “How so?” he asked.
“Well I…I have her eyes,” Sirius began in a whisper, “and her nose. I even have her mouth, and” Sirius hesitated before sharing the last thought, but Remus waited quietly, “Godric knows I share her temper.”
Remus made a noise of disagreement at that. “I disagree.”
Sirius laughed, humorlessly. “We both know how I get when I’m angry.”
Remus took a breath before answering and Sirius unconsciously mirrored him. “Sure, you get angry, we all do. But you’ve never abused children in the name of blood purity, as far as I’m aware.” Sirius winced at the word abused , the hallmark of a long-drawn-out fight he and Remus had on whether or not his home life qualified as “abuse”.
“Everyone says how alike I am to her,’ Sirius whispered, “and it hurts.”
“How do they mean it?” Remus inquired, logical to a fault. He couldn’t dream of arguing with a point he didn’t thoroughly understand.
“They-- they say I’m selfish. I know that she’s selfish. They call me dramatic and I know she’s dramatic.” Sirius started to talk faster and faster, “I share her temper and I know I have her patience. I’ll tell a story at dinner and all anyone can say is ‘oh Walburga, he’s just like you’ and Grandfather Pollux laughs and says ‘ it’s only fair you raise a child so like yourself’. ”
Sirius sobbed openly now, heaving breaths as he tried to just explain . “Don’t they know--don’t they know that I’d rather die than be like her? That it hurts when they say it? I don’t- I don’t want to be anything like her, Remus,” Sirius paused to swipe at his face with the back of his hand, and Remus interjected.
“I don’t think you’re like her, Sirius.”
Sirius huffed. “You can’t know that Moons, you’ve never met her.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Remus said matter-of-factly, “I know enough from what you’ve told me of her. Maybe you share some personality traits, but Sirius, we are who we choose to be. And I see you day after day choosing to be good even when it’s not easy.”
Sirius sniffled. “It’s…” he trailed off, staring at the bathroom tile deep in thought. Exhaustion creeped into his bones and he fought a yawn. Remus waited him out.
“It’s my greatest fear,” Sirius admitted in a whisper, not daring to look at Remus and see his reaction, “to be like her. To become her.”
Remus took a moment to consider this, and then replied softly, “then you’re already on the right track, Pads. If you were truly like her, you wouldn’t fear it.”
Sirius mulled this over for a moment. “I suppose,” he mumbled around another yawn.
“It’s okay to worry about that, I think,” Remus continued, and Sirius closed his heavy eyes as he listened, “it makes sense. But I just want you to know that the people who really, truly love you don’t see any resemblance between you and her. I think your personality is wonderfully you, and trust me, I wouldn’t be friends with a dick.”
Sirius huffed a quiet laugh at that, but said nothing else. Sirius was thoroughly enjoying the warmth radiating from Remus; the way his breath tickled the top of Sirius’s head. Remus must’ve recognized Sirius’s growing quiet, or maybe Sirius leaning his entire body weight onto Remus’s right shoulder gave it away, but Remus knew that Sirius was fading fast; that his time spent stuck in memories zapped the energy right out of him.
“C’mon, Pads, let’s get you to bed.”
Sirius blinked lazily from his spot on the bathroom floor. “Don’t wanna move,” he whined.
“You’ll regret it if you don’t,” Remus pointed out wisely.
“Carry me?” Sirius asked, turning to look at Remus and giving him his best puppy-dog eyes.
“I…I don’t know, Sirius,” Remus started, “are you sure that’s okay?”
Sirius nodded emphatically, truthfully not very sure at all but feeling impossibly heavy. Remus shook his head and laughed. He slid one arm under Sirius’s legs and the other around his back, picking him up in one fluid motion.
Truthfully, the restricting touch felt like stabbing pin-pricks along his skin, but he was determined not to let his body ruin this for him. “My hero,” he sang out instead, felt Remus’s resounding laughter more than heard it.
Remus tucked Sirius into his bed and then sat down next to him over the covers. Sirius rolled over to face Remus. “Thanks,” he said quietly, “for coming.”
Remus smiled softly at him, “always, Pads.” He then held his hand out slowly in front of Sirius, and when he wasn’t met with an objection, he began to card his fingers through Sirius’s hair. Sirius practically melted at the touch.
“You know,” Remus mused, “I bet a color-changing hair charm wouldn’t be too difficult. I reckon Walburga would look great with flaming red locks.”
And Sirius, in spite of everything, snorted.
Remus was magic like that.