Chapter 1: Incapable of Being Human
Chapter Text
After three years at Hogwarts, Sirius had learned that the train rides home were always difficult for him. It didn’t matter how long he’d be there, how soon he’d see his friends again, he was always filled with a sense of impending doom. On this particular June day, he felt it worse than ever, as he sat in the compartment, leaning on and staring out the window, distantly hearing his friends discussing that year’s final quidditch game. Still mentally quite far from the train, he felt the train stop as they arrived in Crewe, where Remus, along with some other students, departed for his transfer. Sirius muttered a quick goodbye, not looking away from the window, but not looking out at anything in particular either. He didn’t know how he’d survive another summer at home. Especially after all he’d learned that year – the atrocities his ancestors had committed against muggles, muggleborns, house elves, beings of all sorts – it wasn’t something he’d been taught in history of magic, but it wasn’t hard to find in the library either. Something stirred him from his thoughts – James’s voice.
“We need to talk about Remus.” This was not the first time James had started a conversation with that sentence. “I know we all decided he doesn’t want us to know what’s going on with him, health-wise, but I’m worried, and… I think I’ve figured it out. But you have to be cool about it.” Sirius and Peter leaned in towards him. They had indeed decided to bar any further discussion of the ‘Remus Health Issue,’ per the request of Madam Pomfrey, though Sirius knew it was only a matter of time before James brought it up again – he couldn’t stand the idea of a friend keeping a secret from him. James put a quick sound-proofing charm on their compartment. “I think he has lycanthropy.” Seeing Sirius and Peter’s looks of confusion, he added, “He’s a werewolf.” There it was – the singular possibility that they had left unsaid, because it was so difficult to believe and yet answered so many questions they had about their dear friend. The regularity of his illness, his disappearances from the dormitory late at night. But still;
“No, he’s not.” Sirius replied, “He can’t be. Werewolves are dark creatures – our roommate is not a dark creature. He doesn’t- he doesn’t attack us, he’s just sick. He’s sick, and accusing him of being a werewolf is not going to help him get better.” James looked at Sirius astonished, as if he’d said something horrible. Rather than reply, James stood up abruptly and walked out of the compartment. Things were quiet for the rest of the ride, a bit quieter than Sirius liked.
Eventually, Peter left, presumably to go talk to James. For nearly 20 minutes after that, Sirius sat in silence, watching the scenery roll by the window. They were just starting to arrive in London when James came back in, presumably to retrieve his carry-on. Instead, he sat down on the seat across from Sirius, who crossed his arms and waited for the other to say something.
James started to speak a few times, before finally saying, “I don’t know how to explain this to you.” Sirius raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as James continued, keeping his voice just barely loud enough to be heard over the hydraulics of the train stopping. “He’s gone on full moons, he’s resistant to magic, he’s covered in scars. Werewolves aren’t what you think – for Merlin’s sake, Sirius, don’t let your parents’ prejudices cloud your judgment.” Sirius watched James regret those words as soon as they left his mouth, but it was too late.
“My parents? This isn’t about my fucking parents, James. I’m not my parents. I know right from wrong. I know good from evil, and werewolves are most certainly fucking evil. Dark magic is evil. You know this, we all know this. This isn’t something my parents are brainwashing me with, this is something we learned in Defense. Werewolves are evil. They are dark creatures and they have no regard for human life. There is no such creature in Hogwarts and there is certainly not one sleeping in the same fucking room as us.” This time, Sirius didn’t wait to see James’s reaction; he just left. Grabbed his things and headed straight to the floo point in king’s cross.
Within moments, Sirius was in the drawing room of number 12 Grimmauld Place. He hauled his belongings into his room and closed the door. Presumably, his mother was in the house somewhere, as was Kreacher, the house elf. This meant that Sirius had no more than twenty minutes of peace and quiet before his so-called break was interrupted by one of them, and so he headed to his own room to sit in bed until then. He tried not to resent Kreacher for this, knowing he had no choice, but couldn’t help but to associate the poor elf with his parents. Still, he recalled what had been explained to him by his friends – that house elves, or brownies as they were once called, are usually able to roam free and do as they please, leaving a house or even wrecking the place if they felt disrespected. In fact, outside of ancient houses like the Blacks, it was quite rare for one to be placed under the spell that held Kreacher and his ancestors captive in Grimmauld. This remembrance suddenly pulled Sirius back to the argument he’d just had with James. Could he really be right? Could werewolves just be another target of the nobility’s prejudice? If so, what did that say about Hogwarts, and what they were taught in class?
A knock at Sirius’s door. Definitely Kreacher or Regulus, Walburga never knocked. She never felt the need to ask permission for anything from her children, especially not to enter a room in her own house.
“Come in.” Sirius called out from his bed.
“Master Sirius,” it was Kreacher then, “Your mother wishes to speak with you, in the library. Your father and Regulus are there as well.” Their father? He must’ve taken off work early. What could possibly pull him away from his work at the ministry?
“Sit.” Was all Sirius’s mother had to say about seeing him for the first time in months, unsurprisingly. Sirius sat down next to his brother, the two of them not acknowledging each other outside of a gentle pat on the hand from Sirius to Reg, while their parents stood in front of them.
“As you know, your cousin Alpheratz has had a pattern of disrespecting this family.” Mother began, stating exactly why he was Sirius’s favorite cousin. From consorting with those of ‘lesser blood’ to stealing Bellatrix’s old dresses, it seemed that Alfie’s greatest passion in life was rebelling against the Noble House of Black. Unfortunately, that made him a tough topic of conversation with family, so Sirius mentally prepared himself for whatever would follow. “This week has been the final straw. He has returned from his apprenticeship in Peru with a companion, a mudblood woman named Eduina Tonks, and is claiming to be a woman named Andromeda Tonks. If he attempts to contact you, do not respond. He is no longer part of this family, in fact, your Aunt Druella and I burned him off the tapestry just this morning.” Sirius grimaced, not bothering to hide his distaste at Mother’s actions. He’d seen Alfie’s disownment coming, though the details were a bit surprising, but he still wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Finally, Mother added, “That will be all. Kreacher will bring you your dinners, your father and I have much work to do.” Sirius returned to his room, practically running up the stairs.
Sirius laid in bed once more, staring up at the sterile white ceiling. He was upset, but more than that he felt… numb. Bored. He’d just lost two of his best friends in one day, and though he figured James would eventually come around, and perhaps he could even find Alfie (Andromeda?), it wouldn’t be easy. He wanted desperately to think of something other than his impending loneliness, though it was hard. It seemed that Peter was the only person he liked left that he could see over the summer without a lot of sneaking around.
Moments later, there was another knock on Sirius’s door – Kreacher with dinner. Sirius trudged over to the door to open it and take his plate from the elf. It hurt him to think about Kreacher, but there was nothing to be done, not yet anyway. Still, it was disturbing to see him act in the direct opposite to how a house elf was supposed to be, thanks to the Black family’s curse. They’re supposed to demand respect or leave, while Kreacher sat through reprimand after reprimand, even once or twice taking the blame for some things he hadn’t done, and never left Grimmauld. Other house elves would be gifted milk, bread, even candies, while Kreacher hardly ate, and when he did it was leftovers of his own cooking. There was no sugarcoating it – Kreacher was enslaved.
Dinner that night was beef stew and some bread – not Sirius’s favorite, but it was fine, and he was glad to be eating alone in his room. Well, for the most part. He was glad to be away from his family, but being alone meant being alone with his thoughts . Thoughts that did not subside when he tried to start unpacking, and still did not subside when he tried to take a shower, which ended in him just sitting in bed once again until he fell asleep.
It wasn’t until nearly two weeks later when Sirius finally broke his monotony of waking, eating, sleeping, and entertaining himself with little things around the house like books, chess, and avoiding his family. He started by sending Peter a letter.
Petey –
This summer is going to be an absolute nightmare. Let’s meet up this week, make it a little easier for each other?
Sirius knew that, like him, Peter had a family that made breaks difficult, especially the weeks he was in his father’s house in Portree rather than his mother’s near Diagon.
You’re with your mum, right? I’ll floo to Diagon, we can meet outside your house. Let me know.
– Sirius
With a whistle, Sirius summoned his owl Talaria from her perch. Talaria was an eagle-owl, the biggest pet owl Sirius had ever seen – he’d asked his parents for her when they first bought him an owl, but when they refused, he saved up enough pocket money to buy her himself, and they could never get her to leave him, evidently she and Sirius had a kind of familiar bond. He handed her the letter, which she dutifully took in her talon.
“Take this to Peter’s window at his mum’s, Tallie. Come back with his response before you go out hunting, alright? Thank you.” She nodded as he opened the window for her, before flying out. Due to her size and needing larger prey than most pet stores provide, she often went about her business outside, only coming to Grimmauld when Sirius whistled for her.
Peter returned his owl around ten the next morning. Peter’s owl Snappy was much smaller than Talaria, and so Sirius was thankful that Tallie was out flying, otherwise she’d probably try to pick a fight with him. Snappy delivered a rather small note:
Let’s meet up at my mum’s, she’ll love to meet you.
Sirius smiled, pet Snappy’s beak, and went to get dressed. He’d have to wear robes over his outfit to appease his parents, but he had gotten ahold of some muggle clothes while at school – a pair of blue jeans, a plain black t-shirt, and a pair of combat boots. They were all secondhand, but Sirius figured that was for the best, there was no use buying them new when he’d either grow out of them or have them confiscated by his parents. Overtop he wore his summer robes with the family crest on them. It disgusted him to display the Toujours Pur motto, but he knew it had to be done if his parents would let him get out, and he could always put it in his bag later.
As he knocked on the door to his mother’s study, Sirius considered, for a moment, running into the floo and worrying about consequences rather than permission. He figured it was more trouble than it was worth, though, and waited for his mother to open the door. When she appeared, Walburga was wearing an especially severe expression, and for her that’s certainly saying something.
“Hello?” She asked, making no gesture to invite him in or join him outside her study, instead choosing to occupy the threshold.
“I’m going to Diagon to visit Peter.” Sirius said. He’d been making an effort to declare what he was doing rather than ask permission. It pissed her off, but not enough for her to punish him, and that was Sirius’s sweet spot. Her eyes narrowed as she looked over his outfit, but she replied, “I’ll allow it.” Sirius knew it was too early to celebrate, and waited for her to add a condition. “You can floo to Borgin and Burke’s, though. I don’t trust any of those Diagon shopkeepers.” Sirius tried to hide his disdain, knowing half the reason his mother – and Peter’s dad, for that matter – disliked Diagon was their efforts towards employing muggleborns, they were one of only a few communities left where not a single shop refused them service. He obliged, though, having learned that the first week of summer was one of the worst times to get in trouble, and flooed straight there.
After a few moments of reeling through the network, he landed in the dusty shop, immediately sneezing several times, before nodding to Mr Burke behind the counter, not stopping to see his nasty grin and hear his nastier comments about muggles. Sirius could feel the baneful magic thrumming deep beneath the alley. He wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. After a hike up the strangely slanted and zig-zagging alley, he found the turn onto Diagon, and Peter’s mother’s place was just a block away. He had only just rung the doorbell when she opened the door for him and smiled. She looked so much like Peter, though older, with softer features and longer, curled hair.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Sirius. My boy talks about you a lot, you and the other boys in your room.” Sirius smiled, trying not to dwell on James and Remus for the moment. He was nearly ready to forgive James, yes, but that didn’t mean he was ready to accept his theory about their roommate being a werewolf, not in the slightest.
Peter’s mum (“Please, call me Julia,” she said when Sirius called her Miss Pettigrew, “And besides, it’s Oakwood now.”) offered them biscuits and let them be on their way, asking only that Peter come home when the streetlights turn on.
Diagon Alley was often bustling, and this random June Wednesday was no different. Witches and wizards going every which way, every shop that didn’t directly pertain to the school year was quite busy, and even Ollivander seemed to have some customers as they walked past him towards Fortescue’s. Alice Fortescue, a Gryffindor girl a year above Peter and Sirius, and almost surely set to be a prefect, was working behind the counter as she had every summer since she grew tall enough to scoop the ice cream. Peter ordered a toffee apple ice cream, while Sirius ordered chocolate and raspberry. Peter tried his best to make eyes at Alice, and Sirius tried his best not to tease his friend for it. Realistically, they both knew she was out of his league and probably taken, but Peter was not a realist. After that, they headed next door towards the used bookstore. Flourish and Blott’s was nice, but they’d long learned that the good stuff – they’d even found some muggle comics, which Peter fell in love with – was at Rook’s Books, the little storefront with a big chess piece on the sign.
Peter headed straight for his favorite spot, the comic aisle, while Sirius liked to take his time and browse the whole store. In one aisle, he ran into a strange-looking… person. They didn’t seem to look like a man or a woman, just… a person. Their hair was long, but that meant practically nothing in wizard society. They wore a women’s blouse under men’s robes, with trousers that could go either way. They even seemed to have a bit of makeup on their eyes, though the rest of their face was bare. Before Sirius could worry about how he was staring, they headed towards the counter. He felt… strange. There was a sort of jealousy in the way he regarded them. He was reminded, strangely, of his parents. The way they pushed him to be the “best” pureblood man he could be – only speaking to the right people, always ready to impress a potential bride, always dressed as proper as could be. Was this the ultimate rebellion, then? Dressing and acting not like a man or a woman but something in between, something new and exciting? Perhaps that was dramatic, but Sirius was no stranger to drama. He turned to see what aisle they’d been reading.
The shelf was titled simply, “Gay Lit.” He could wager a guess that it didn’t mean gay as in happy. He’d heard about gay people, of course. He picked a book almost at random, a small one titled Witch Seeking Witch and flipped around it. There was always something exciting about reading something he knew his parents would disapprove of, though usually that came in the form of a muggle novel that Remus had leant him. On the page he flipped to, there was mention of a transgender woman, a woman who “had been born a man, but felt that being a woman was “in her soul.” Was that what Andromeda felt? Sirius had never really felt that his “soul” had anything to do with him being a man. He was a man because he was a man, he didn’t think much about itt. Sure, he considered dressing like Andromeda did sometimes, and he despised the idea of growing a beard, but that was just Sirius being Sirius, wasn’t it?
Before he knew it, nearly half an hour had passed of Sirius flipping through the little book, and since Peter was on his way out, he left without purchasing anything. They spent the next few hours mucking about around the alley, until it was time for Peter to head back. Sirius wasn’t ready though. He trudged towards Borgin and Burke’s, dragging his feet as slow as he could and window shopping at every opportunity.
It was dark by then, and had next to no visibility, London’s smog permeating into the ancient street. It seemed as though the closer Sirius got to Knockturn Alley, the more street lights were flickering or even out completely. Once he turned the corner, nearly half of them were in need of reenchantment. On nearly the other end of the street, there was a witch in a long robe shambling towards him. She moved strangely, like she was being pulled forwards by a force other than her own, as if she wasn’t fully in control of her body. It was a bit like descriptions Sirius had heard of the imperius curse, but she didn’t seem to be moving with any sort of intent, just sort of shuffling along. As the two of them got closer to converging, he heard a guttural groan coming from her, and realized he had to choose between getting the fuck out of there and trying to help this poor woman, who had started to lean to one side and was looking horrifically emaciated now that she was in the light. As he stopped, stuck in a sort of fight or flight, she came towards him at an imperceptible speed – meters away one moment, breathing on him the next. Before Sirius could react, she was on top of him. Her nails were in his arms, hard and sharp, and she was contorting both of their bodies to try and get her mouth to his neck. She may have looked weak, but Sirius was helpless against her impossible strength. The groaning was louder now, and clearer. It almost sounded like sobbing, and Sirius knew he was close to tears himself but couldn’t imagine why his attacker would be. She finally sank her teeth- her fangs into his neck, and some sort of venom caused the area to rapidly itch, then his whole upper body started to burn, and then he was passing out so fast he didn’t even feel himself hit the ground.
Chapter 2: Living Uncontrollably
Summary:
Sirius deals with (somewhat) his new status as a vampire.
Notes:
Sorry for the reupload!
CWs: death (they get better), doctor's office, depression, i think that's all!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The falling didn’t stop when Sirius hit the ground. He kept sinking, unable to open his eyes, unable to judge the passage of time, until he awoke in a sterile white room. The lighting was so bright, especially compared to Knockturn, that he couldn’t make out more than one shape: a slender, tall, dark figure, almost a silhouette of a person, as he couldn’t make out any of the details.
“Sirius Black,” said a gravelly voice that seemed to come from both the figure and the walls. Sirius squinted again, but it was futile. His eyes just couldn’t adjust. “Sirius Black.” it uttered once again. “You’re not supposed to be here yet.” “Where?” He asked, hearing his own voice as if it were far away and underwater. “The veil.”
Before Sirius could respond, really before he could even finish listening, he was being pulled back into Knockturn Alley, hacking, coughing, and retching on all fours as if he’d drowned. The shambling woman was still there – or at least a much fuller, awake version of her – staring at Sirius with wide eyes, as far as he could tell with the tears in his. Without saying a thing, she cast red sparks into the sky and disapparated. There was a metallic taste in his mouth. Sirius’s vision began to darken, and he tried to scream as he felt himself going under again.
When he awoke, he thankfully was not in That Place again, but another sterile white room, though not nearly as bright as the first. He was joined by his family and a man he didn’t recognize wearing a healer’s robe. His mother was sitting perfectly still, his father standing and speaking to the healer, and Regulus had his hood pulled up almost over his eyes and was slouching in his seat. His neck still itched, and his head hurt and everything else had a dull ache. Sirius moved to sit up, but quickly decided against it. All eyes in the room snapped to him, his mother almost looking angry at him for waking up.
The healer cleared his throat. “Mr Black, I’m going to run a few tests and ask you a few questions. Do I have your consent?” Sirius nodded, though the motion made the headache he almost hadn’t noticed flare. The healer listened to Sirius’s heart, cast a few magical scans, and swabbed the bite on his neck, causing a white sharp pain to zip through him, before quickly rebandaging it. Sirius fought a flinch and inhaled through his teeth sharply. The healer put his wand away. “I have my hypotheses, Mr Black, but as we wait for test results, could you describe your attack to me?” Sirius looked down at his hands, still stained with blood. Could he? He tried to stutter out something about the woman, but only managed, “She- she bit me, I think. Fangs, and- and I left. I went Somewhere Else, but it wasn’t real. She woke me up, and she called for help? Why would she call for help?” Sirius sat helplessly as the healer just nodded and stuck his gloved hands in Sirius’s mouth, seemingly looking at his teeth.
Wasn’t there something they should be doing? Calling the aurors, or somebody? Where was the sense of urgency? For once, his father seemed to agree with him. The healer then retrieved the swab and cast a few spells on it, and as the reddish stain on it turned an inky black, Sirius felt his face fall. He was still hoping against hope that the woman had been just strung out on some sort of potion, but the results were clear even before the healer opened his mouth.
“Mr. Black, you have been infected with vampirism.” Sirius wanted desperately to react with outrage, to demand more tests, or even a cure. But it had been a long day, and he was just so tired, so he simply nodded. “Over the next few weeks you will experience some changes. You’ll grow fangs, and the shape of your mouth will change slightly. You’ll start to crave blood, I will provide you with a prescription. You may experience tooth loss. You will appear not to age. If you wish for a potion prescription that may allow you to age, though at a slower rate, I can refer you to a specialist apothecary.” Before Sirius could respond, his father was ushering him and everyone else out of the room. The healer protested, of course, until his father-
“Obliviate.” Sirius watched, dumbfounded as the tip of his father’s wand lit up blue with the spell and he led them all out of St. Mungo’s and to a spot where they disapparated, Sirius with their father and Regulus with their mother.
Sirius’s father sent him straight to his bedroom that night, and while Sirius fell asleep relatively fast, he found himself waking up often, with thoughts swimming around his head. When would his cravings start? Would he ever be himself again once they started? If he was still himself, did that mean James was right about werewolves? A selfish part of him wanted to focus on that social dilemma more than the more pressing personal issues. He had been ready to apologize to James for days, if he was being truthful. But now? He didn’t know. He couldn’t imagine talking to any of his friends again. Would he even be allowed to go back to Hogwarts?
Despite all this, it still didn’t feel real, and Sirius found himself forgetting and remembering each time he woke.
Early in the morning, a knock came at the door, followed by it opening a moment later. In stepped a strange man who had the same smarmy eyes as Mr Burke, carrying a well-worn leather healer’s bag. Behind him was Sirius’s father, who just stood in the doorway and watched.
“This is him?” asked the man, turning back towards Sirius’s father who gave him a nod. “Alright, kid. I’m Healer Hudson Burke.” That name rang a bell for Sirius, and not because of his family. Something in the Prophet, at least a few months back. “I’m here to guide you through the transformation process. See,” he sat at Sirius’s desk, sweeping a mess to the side, and started unloading supplies from his bag – potions, some sort of salve, bandages, and, strangely enough, a ring, “people think it’s just an instant thing. You pass out a human and” – he snapped his fingers – “wake up a bloodsucker. Really, the whole process lasts more than a week, and the adjustment period varies wildly.” He gestured by waving his hands around, almost dropping the phial he was holding. “Today, you’re probably feeling an upset stomach, nocturnal urges, and maybe some tooth pain. Good news, though, you can probably get another meal or two in before you stop being able to stomach solid food. Now.” He turned back towards Sirius, then followed his gaze to the doorway. “Orion, my good man. I’ll see you later to discuss payment.” He simply nodded again and walked away. Sirius could tell his father wasn’t exactly a fan of how energetic Healer Burke was, which was the first point in the healer’s favor as far as Sirius was concerned. Burke watched him leave and waited until he was down the stairs to turn back to Sirius. “It’s your turn now, kid. Tell me about yourself. I’m sure you have some questions to ask, too?” Sirius bit his thumbnail for a moment while he gathered his thoughts.
“I… hm.” He sighed. What was there to say? His life had changed forever. “When… When do I start to crave blood? When do I become dangerous?” Healer Burke laughed, a throaty chuckle that unnerved Sirius to his core. “With my help? Hopefully never. Unless you’re already dangerous, you won’t just attack people willy-nilly. Listen, there’s all sorts of information about dark creatures out there. I’m not gonna tell you you’re still toujours pur , or that you won’t be different psychologically. But you haven’t become some sort of killing machine. That’s all…” He lowered his voice just a bit, “it’s fear tactics, kid. Join us or die type shit from you-know-who. I’m not saying I don’t believe in the cause, but I’ve worked with werewolves, and I specialize in vampires. His attack dog ain’t vicious because of lycanthropy. I reckon he was a monster long before he got bit.” Sirius remembered hearing about you-know-who’s werewolf soldier, while eavesdropping on his parents and from the prophet’s reports on the war. But for the first time in nearly 18 hours, a bit of hope bloomed inside Sirius. He wasn’t going to lose himself, and he might even have something new in common with Remus, though he was still unsure about James’s theory. James- he had to write James.
“Now, first order of business, secrecy. I have potions and a glamor spell.” He held up a phial and a ring. “This,” he raised the phial, “Is a magnificent little potion we call the maturity mixture, which I happen to have helped create. You take this every day, you’ll age just like any kid.” Sirius looked at the shimmery brown-green potion, silently thanking the gods for it. “Now,” Burke startled Sirius as he returned to business, “the ring. You won’t need it yet, but your appearance is gonna change quite a bit over the next few days. Fangs, of course, but your skin will be a bit ashen, too, and your cheeks and eyes will sink just a bit.” Sirius wanted to grimace at that, but he knew it was far from the worst thing he’d deal with. “Now, that’s a lot of information for you to take in, so we don’t have to talk about diet today. I’m gonna tell your parents you need to rest, but most of the time today someone’s gonna be keeping you awake, either me or your house elf. We need you on a typical sleep schedule if you want to go back to Hogwarts. I’ll go get you something good to eat.”
With that, Sirius was alone with his thoughts again for a few minutes. He felt like he would go completely stir-crazy, despite having gone out just the day before. He started about ten times to draft a letter to James in his head, but what could he say? “I’m sorry, had to find out firsthand how wrong I was, because I’m a little shit”? He was thankful to be awakened from that thought process by Healer Burke returning with a plate of breakfast. Sausage, eggs on toast, and even a scone. He would’ve been thankful even if it weren’t his last meal. Again shaking himself away from those thoughts, he dug in. He had an eternity to process what had happened, after all. He’d never get sick again, and once he stopped taking the maturity mixture, he wouldn’t age. If the rumors were true, he’d even be resistant to certain types of magic.
One thing Sirius hadn’t expected to come with his transformation was rigorous training. Hudson, as he’d asked Sirius to call him, wanted to ensure he could never be found out, and that meant relearning how to be human at the same time he was learning how to be a vampire. Even before his fangs grew in – he’d lost his front teeth and could feel the sharp point beneath his gums when his tongue drew towards the empty spot, nauseating him less each time – Hudson had him working on wearing the glamor ring all the time, even as he slept. Apparently it wasn’t just his mouth, his skin had become ashen and his face more gaunt. Each morning, Sirius found himself increasingly avoiding the bathroom mirror, not wanting to see the flickery faux-reflection, but not finding himself ready to remove it either. He’d also become much more sensitive to the sun, both his skin and eyes hurting after a few minutes outside. For the first time, he was thankful for Hogwarts’s cloudiness.
The weeks of summer couldn’t pass quickly enough. Next, he had to drink blood – it tasted metallic and dirty, but he started to like it despite himself. It was pig’s blood, of course. Not as nutritious as human blood, but that just meant he had to drink more often. It’d be strange transitioning from three square meals to just a pint or so a day. Apparently he couldn’t starve to death, but if he didn’t drink he’d go into a sort of fugue state before falling into a coma. At school he’d have to make it look like he was eating, moving his food around and taking tastes of it, being sure not to swallow too many solids and avoid spicy or pungent things (to his surprise, that did indeed include garlic, it wasn’t just a muggle tale). At least he could still drink butterbeer and juice, not that they were of any nutritional value for him. That brought him some comfort, though his nights were still full of thoughts and even dreams of being found out in front of the whole school, or sometimes attacking his friends.
Then came the real training. After a few weeks, his eyesight had become fully adapted to the night, so he had to learn to navigate with weaker eyes without squinting constantly. Luckily, vampires had a special adaptation for that – Sirius’s other senses were heightened, albeit not as much as some other non-humans, and he even had a new one, thermosensation. Apparently snakes had it as well, almost an infrared sight for hunting, but harder to explain – in training, he didn’t know how exactly he knew Hudson was sneaking up on him, he just felt it. He couldn’t wait to use it in the dueling club.
He was almost glad not to have any free time – it kept his parents from asking questions and his mind from wandering. Still, as he laid awake at night, trying to coach his now-nocturnal brain into some sort of sleep, his thoughts drifted. To James, to Remus, and to that stranger he’d seen in Rook’s Books on the day of the attack. Not to mention the strange things he’d seen while unconscious. He could only do something about the first item on that list from his bed, but still he hesitated. Yes, he knew he was wrong, and that it was possible for Remus to be a werewolf, but still it gnawed at him. He just couldn’t picture it. And he certainly couldn’t concede to James’s comparison to his parents. He’d just wait until he saw his friends next.
As the summer waned, Sirius had to find more and more ways to occupy himself – chess, Talaria, and Grimmauld’s vast library became his escapes. He wasn’t allowed to leave the house, not after what his mother had taken to calling “that unfortunate incident.” He also saw his brother far less, apparently Regulus had friends now, and though Sirius avoided them to his best ability, he sometimes heard Barty Crouch Jr’s horrible laugh echoing downstairs. It was so strange – Regulus, who had always been quiet and seemed to like things that way, next to one of the most annoying Slytherins Sirius had had the displeasure of meeting. It was as if Regulus and Sirius hardly knew each other anymore, but perhaps that was for the best. Still, Sirius continued reading whatever he could get his hands on, though he often left books half-read, scattered about his room. He was dying to see his friends again, but at the same time, he didn’t know how he would face them. Between his blackout curtains and his staying in, Sirius’s summer passed faster than ever.
Notes:
Apologies for the reupload! Things just didn't feel right. I needed Sirius to be sadder lmao. Anyways, i have Thoughts on the representation of death in canon, so i changed things up a bit, hope you like it!
Alternative chapter title: Sirius fucking dies.
Chapter 3: Is This On, Sirius Are You There?
Summary:
A Remus chapter! Hogwarts Express time featuring some suspicious behavior from Sirius. CW for some misgendering in the first paragraph. Thank you to the amazing moonsandmusic for beta-reading!!!
Chapter Text
Remus wasn’t exactly a fan of summer. He ran hot, so hot he preferred the bitter winters at Hogwarts, and he spent the whole break at home. As a kid, his parents’ farm seemed vast, an uncharted wilderness for him to explore. But after… after the attack, he had nowhere else to go. The farm, now clearly just a chicken coop and a garden, became a prison. Before the attack, he’d played hide and seek in the cellar. Now, he only went down there once a month. He only took trips into town when he was feeling his very best, and even then he could feel people staring at him. At his scars, at how much he’d grown. And of course because didn’t you have a little girl, Hope? I could’ve sworn… At least now those particular whispers had died down, besides it wasn’t as if they knew Remus had enhanced hearing. Still, being the only trans person he knew only added to Remus’s loneliness, especially because his father insisted he remain stealth at school. He knew his parents only wanted him to be safe, though. Now that the summer was finally ending — it was the final week of August — well, it was time to get onto the Hogwarts Express. It was also the last week before the full moon, though, and that meant Remus’s head felt foggy all day, as if all his energy was knotted up inside of him.
The Hogwarts Express, for a Welsh student such as Remus, meant getting up at the crack of dawn to be driven to England for the train. Mercifully, there were multiple stops on the way to Hogwarts, and so he wouldn’t need to go all the way to London. He’d spent the night before packing, and now it was time for Remus, his mum, and Remus’s messenger bird Lucy to cram into the Ford Cortina and head to Crewe station. His mum turned on the radio as they left the driveway, and Eric Clapton sang about shooting the sheriff as Remus struggled to stay awake.
Remus arrived at Crewe station at 9 am that morning, cane hanging from his arm as he pushed his trolley, Lucy twittering about in her cage on top. Lucy was a homing pigeon, not the most popular choice in messenger birds, but Remus’s dad had suggested he get a docile bird as he’d had trouble connecting with pets ever since he was turned. Lucy was a good friend to Remus, not a familiar like some people’s birds, but she was magical nonetheless and always sent his messages well. Remus braced himself as he sped up towards “platform one-and-a-half,” aka the wall between platforms one and two. He’d done this dozens of times by now, and it never felt easier or less ridiculous. Remus sped through the platform and onto the train.
As soon as he was in his compartment, Remus closed the blinds to the outside and tried his best to soothe his aching head by falling asleep, definitely not thinking about how James said he’d had some sort of falling out with Sirius. Definitely not thinking about how none of them had heard from him since the first few weeks of summer. Definitely not. It wasn’t as if Remus usually saw Sirius over break anyways.
Remus drifted in and out of a nap until the brakes screeched, waking him and notifying everyone of their arrival at King’s Cross. He drew up the blinds and stuck his head out the door, waving over James who responded with a big smile. Behind him was Sirius, who gave a small wave and followed behind James, with Peter coming in from the other side. The four of them piled into the compartment, Remus returning to his window seat, James taking the seat next to him. As the train departed again, Peter pulled out a book, while James turned to Remus.
“So, Remus, mate, is this the year you finally join us on the quidditch team?” James asked teasingly. Remus rolled his eyes. James was going into his third year as chaser for Gryffindor, and Sirius his second as beater. Remus, meanwhile, was perfectly content with his extracurriculars starting and ending with the occasional chess club meeting.
“I’ll try out for quidditch when King Arthur returns.” That repetition of the old phrase Remus often heard from his father earned him a chuckle from Peter, but Sirius only cleared his throat.
“I don’t think I’m doing quidditch this year, James.” Sirius said, his voice scratchy. Something was setting off alarm bells in the back of Remus’s head, where the wolf’s instincts lied. No, not something. Nothing. He could see Sirius, could hear him, but underneath the usual smell of spending his break at home, there was nothing. He didn’t smell like sweat or warmth or a single thing, and he just looked wrong. Almost as if he was wearing a mask of his own face. Before Remus could dwell on it, James responded, “Oh, I s’pose that’s alright, but Frank will have a fit trying to find a new beater.” The two boys launched into a conversation about the quidditch captain as Sirius laughed, while Remus sat back and tried to fall back asleep for the rest of the ride. Still, something about Sirius was scratching at Remus. He was strange, almost stilted around his best friends, and every now and then Remus caught Sirius looking in his direction, really looking at him, as if Remus was a puzzle to be solved. He tried to ignore it, but it ate at him. Could Sirius really have figured something out? What the hell had happened to him over the summer? And what in the world could Sirius and James have argued about in the spring? Before Remus could spiral for too long, they arrived at Hogwarts and it was time for the feast.
Remus drummed his fingers on the table waiting for Dumbledore to get on with the festivities so everyone could eat. That was another effect of being so close to the full moon – his body was storing energy for the transformation, so he was constantly hungry with no energy to show for everything he was eating. This had contributed to his growth spurts as well, along with his hormones changing wildly after being turned, which had led to him being taller than half the boys in his grade even before starting the hormone potions he’d been taking for almost a year now. After the sorting, which seemed to move at an even more glacial pace than usual, Dumbledore stood to say a few words.
“Welcome, students, to another year at Hogwarts. We know that this is a dark time for many of you, but as the war rages on, Hogwarts will remain a bastion of safety for all students, no matter who you are. Please join me in welcoming two new faculty members. Xenophilius Lovegood —” a young wizard- witch- person stood from the faculty table, wearing sparkly robes and long blonde hair, and bowed “ — is our new apprentice professor for Care for Magical Creatures, and they will be assisting our dear Professor Kettleburn as he adjusts to losing his wand hand in last year’s unicorn incident. Noor Lari —” a young witch wearing a purple hijab stood and bowed “ — is our new research assistant and apprentice librarian. Please give them both a warm welcome.” The hall applauded, and Remus noticed some of the Ravenclaws were standing and hollering — one of them must have been a recent graduate, then. “Now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for, time to eat.” The headmaster waved his hands as the feast appeared across the great hall. Remus dug in instantly, and the rest of the night seemed to pass just as fast, though that may have been due in part to him falling asleep the instant his head hit the pillow.
ppyurin on Chapter 1 Thu 24 Apr 2025 03:01PM UTC
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moonsandmusic on Chapter 3 Mon 17 Mar 2025 08:00PM UTC
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pixelboyfriend on Chapter 3 Mon 17 Mar 2025 08:10PM UTC
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