To My Fellow Marauders

by Beyond_the_Farthest_Star

Summary:

In the summer of 1975, Sirius writes to his friends to let them know how things are when he's at home.

Notes:

I tried using a different font to represent Sirius's handwriting in this story. For anyone who is not aware, clicking "Hide Creator's Style" at the top of the page will change it to the usual AO3 font, so please do that if you find the font difficult to read (or if you just don't like it).

Chapter 1: Dear Peter

Dear Peter,

The summer hasn’t been great so far. I’ve never really talked to any of you about why I hate going home so much, but you’ve probably worked a bit of it out yourself.

You know that they like to confiscate things. That’s why I asked you all to keep my books and my music. I don’t have them now, but at least I know they’ll be there as soon as I’m back at school in September.

But I guess she was annoyed there were no pose possessions for her to take away, because she took my tongue out the first day I was back. She said something about me speaking out of turn, but I think she was just waiting for an excuse to do something. So I can’t talk now. It’s been almost a week, and she hasn’t given it back yet.

Now I’ve learned that permanent sticking charm, I hung up that photograph James’s dad took of us at Easter. I hung up some Gryffindor banners and a bunch of muggle posters, too. I was stupid. I thought that would be safe, because she wouldn’t be able to get them off the wall. Well, I was right about that, but she was furious, obviously, and that was how I lost my wand. Not supposed to do magic at home, I know, but I’ve got fuck all to do now. That’s why I’m writing to you. No books, no music, can’t even talk. No one to talk to, since they try to keep me and Reg separated most of the time, but I can’t even talk to myself.

And the posters pissed her off enough that she snapped at me for fidgeting at supper and took my fingers away, too. She gave them back after a day; I suppose it’s hard for her to demand I act dignified when I can’t even hold anything. But that was maybe the most bored I’ve been in my life, and Reg had to help me get changed. It was humiliating, getting help like that from my younger brother who can do no wrong, but I wasn’t going to be seen in the same clothes I’d worn the previous day. Who knows what she’d have done then. Anyway, I sat very still for hours to show her I could behave (you can’t believe it, I know), and now I’ve got my fingers back, so I’m writing because I can’t think of anything else to do.

She snapped about my table manners at breakfast now, and she’s taken my teeth away. Said I could eat again when I’ve learned to behave. Not the first time she’s done that, but it’s pretty far, even for her. No tongue and no teeth. I can’t talk at all now, not in any way. My lips can’t move properly. My whole face looks weird. I’m keeping quiet, not even humming or anything, because I don’t want her to take my voice next.

Merlin, I don’t know how I’m going to survive another seven weeks of this. I hate it and I want to see you. You’ll probably be pretty surprised how enthusiastically I play chess with you as soon as we’re back at school. I miss you. I miss you asking us to play chess with you all the time. I hope you’re doing well. Better than me, I’m sure, so that’s something, at least.

Sincerely, Sirius

Chapter 2: Dear James

Dear James,

I wrote to Peter a few days ago and told him that mother’s been taking things. She took my teeth three days ago and she’s still not given them back. I don’t know what she wants me to do. I sit at the table with everyone and I behave. I don’t fidget or glare or try to talk or anything. But she won’t give them back.

I haven’t eaten in three days, James. And she won’t let me drink anything but water.

Reguu Regulus just came to my room with a bowl of soup. He snuck down to the kitchen and stole it for me. If they’d seen him, he’d have been in such trouble. But they didn’t catch him, thank Merlin.

I still don’t have a tongue, so I couldn’t taste it, but it feels so good. I actually feel a bit sick now, because I’m not used to having a full belly anymore. And I probably swallowed it too fast. But I’m full. I couldn’t sleep before, because I was so hungry, but now I feel tired. I think I’ll sleep well tonight.

I’ve got my teeth back. I guess she doesn’t actually want me to starve. Still no tongue, but at least I can eat.

It’s a really nice day today. The sun’s shining and I’m sure you’re out playing quidditch. I wish I could be there. I wish I could fly with you.

I fucking hate this house.

You don’t know how lucky you are to have such nice parents. I hope you never understand what it’s like. Just wish I didn’t have to deal with it, either.

Anyway, I’m sure you’re having a great time, but I can’t wait to see you again.

Sincerely, Sirius

Chapter 3: Dear Remus

Dear Remus,

Father called me into his office today. I think it’s the first time he spoke to me all summer. So, the first time he’s spoken to me since Christmas.

He wanted to talk about my marks. He told me they weren’t good enough, even though I came top in the year in more than one subject, and I did pretty well in everything else. You said so yourself, and you actually take that sort of thing seriously. But apparently, someone at the Ministry told him some stuff and he’s got it into his head that there are half-bloods and even muggle-borns (horror of horrors) getting higher marks than mine.

I couldn’t say anything to that, because I haven’t had a tou tongue since the day I got home, but I wanted to say, “So what? They’re smart and they worked hard (a lot harder than I did) and they deserved to beat me.” Probably a good thing I couldn’t say that. I just looked at him. Probably I glared a bit, which was probably a mistake, but I don’t think it made that much difference. He was already calling me a disgrace and saying how I was bringing shame to the family and I was an embarrassment, etc.

There are muggle-borns in Regulus’s year who do well, too. And I know for a fact that some of them got better marks than he did in some subjects. But father couldn’t be arsed to even find that out. All he knows is Regulus did better than I did, and someone at the Ministry said… So I’m the disgrace.

I think he was just angry and used that as an excuse. He was shouting at mother all of yesterday after he got home, and he’s been beastly to Kreacher, not that he wants my sympathy. I’m just more convenient because I’m the rebel who’s always letting the family down.

So he beat me. He used my belt. He made comments about my clothes, too. They’re not even proper muggle clothes; I’m not stupid enough to try wearing those in this house. But I guess they weren’t Black enough or pureblood enough or something.

It’s not easy writing while lying on the floor, but I can’t sit. Can’t lie on my back, either. Getting to sleep tonight’s going to be a bitch.

I thought about you, during. I’ve done that before, ever since I found out about your problem. I thought how you go through all that pain, and that’s not just during the holidays, it’s every month. I thought how what I was feeling couldn’t be that bad, because I didn’t scream. I did make a bit of noise, even though I was trying to stay quiet.

But you scream. I’ve even heard it, a few times. I never told you, because I thought you wouldn’t like it. But I’ve snuck out and gotten close enough to the shack to hear. I wanted to do something. I wanted to help you, but I couldn’t.

I just realised it was a full moon last night, and I didn’t even notice. I knew the dates, but I just forgot. I feel terrible about that. You had to go through that, and I didn’t even think of you. I’m sorry.

I hope it wasn’t one of the really bad ones. I hope you’re okay.

Chapter 4: Animagi

Dear Peter,

I drew a picture of you fretting about homework. I feel kind of bad about how I always act like you should understand things better. I know Remus is better at explaining and so it’s usually best for you to go to him for help anyway, but I do feel bad for taking the mickey. Just because you don’t remember things as easily as I do. That’s not even unusual; most people find it difficult, but I act like you’re

Anyway, I want to promise to be nicer next year. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep that promise, because I’m a lot worse at that sort of thing than you are, but I want to be nicer. I soul shouldn’t make fun.

You’re better than me at Potions, anyway, and you never rub it in my face. So I can be a better friend to uo you, too. (And you’re better at Astronomy, but I’m bad at that on purpose, so it’s a little different)

Yeah, sorry.

I think I was thinking about that because I really wish we’d managed the whole animagus thing already. And we wouldn’t be as far as we are without your help with the tricky potions bits. You understand how all the ingredients work and interact with each other, so I feel like we're actually doing it properly. If it were just me and James, I would be a lot less confident about the whole thing.

I thought a lot about what I’d like to be, and while I was at school, I hoped it would be something bit big and cool. A wolf, like Moony, then we could run and howl together. Or something else like that. A Gryffindor lion, maybe. But now I hope it’s something small. I wish I could be a mouse or a beetle or something, so I could fit under the door and run away. Or maybe a bird, and I could fly out the window. They only let me open it a crack; maybe they think I’m going to try to climb out. I’m not that desperate yet; I’d probably break my neck. But if I was a bird, I could fly.

I want to fly away, Pete. I don’t want to be here. I just want to get away.

Chapter 5: Disability

Dear James,

She threatened to take my eyes today. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so fucking pathetic. She said she’d take my eyes, and I just turned into this useless little thing, just doing everything exactly like she wanted.

I know that there are people who can’t see, and they manage to live all right. They work out ways. But if it happened here, she’d make it hell. None of them would help me. I’d just be lost in this house. And I already can’t talk. If I couldn’t even see the picture of us, I think I’d lose my mind.

So I just obeyed, and she let me keep them. And she smiled and said, “See, you can behave when you’re motivated.”

I wanted to fucking die. I hate that she can do that. She can make me feel so worthless. And she knows it. when I fight back more, she gets angry, but now I’ve started trying harder to behave, so she doesn’t take even more away, and she likes that. She likes that she can force me to

I just want to have my tongue back, and I don’t know what I have to do to get it. The last few days, I haven’t done anything wrong at all. She even said so. But she still won’t let me talk.

But I’ve still got my voice, and I hum to myself a little when I’m in the shower, and when I’m in bed. I do it really quietly, so no one will hear and take that away, too. Just to remind myself that it’s still there, that I can still make sound. And one day, I’ll get my tongue back and then I’ll be able to speak again. Just don’t know when that day will be.

I’ve been thinking that, if I had some kind of accident, and I lost some body parts, it would be fine if I was at school. None of the things she’s done would be so bad if I weren’t here, in this fucking house! Because if I couldn’t talk at school, you’d still be there, and you’d speak to me, and we’d find a way for me to communicate with you. There’s that sign language thing some people can do with their hands. Or I can write. But here I’m all alone.

Or if I didn’t have eyes, you’d help me get around. I’m sure there are spells, too, that could help. But I still haven’t gotten my wand back. I doubt they’ll let me have it before the end of the summer.

And hell, even if I didn’t have teeth, I wouldn’t starve if I was at school. Those house elves would make sure I had delicious soups and soft foods and juice and what have you. I’d never be hungry just because I couldn’t chew.

She took my feet once, a few years back. She gave them back pretty quickly, because I guess she found it undignified that I had to crawl to get around. And then she hexed me for crawling like a dog.

I feel like I could get by without a lot of things, if I was with you. Not just you, all our friends, and most of the teachers would be nice about it, too. I wouldn’t mind it that much, if it wasn’t here. But here it’s just a punishment. They make sure it’s terrible and that I want to have the missing parts back.

I’ve thought about just making a run for it, even if I can’t talk. But it’s going to be hard if I haven’t even got a wand. And I’ve got no money, either. And I don’t know how to get to any of you without magic. And if I can’t even talk, it’s going to be pretty difficult to ask anyone for help. They’d probably just send me back home, anyway. So I’m staying here for now. But, Merlin, I wish I could get out of this place. The holidays aren’t even half done yet.

Maybe I’ll write stories about the things we’ll do when school starts again. Yes, that’s something I can keep myself busy with tomorrow. I’ll fantasise about it all, and then I’ll write it down, and when it’s autumn, I’ll have all these great ideas to share with you. So, even if you’ve been too busy having fun to think about new pranks, we’ll have plenty to do. I’m looking forward to that: causing trouble with you again. I’m looking forward to a lot of things, but that maybe most of all.

Sincerely, Sirius

Chapter 6: Dear Moony

Notes:

This chapter features some descriptions of Sirius's sexual fantasies, and some musings on sex/gender, just so no one is blind-sided.

Dear Moony,

I dreamed about you last night.

I know I probably won’t show any of you the letters I’ve been writing. They’re just for me, really, to keep me sane. But I’ve kept most of them under the mattress. I know I’ll never show you this one. I think I’ll destroy it as soon as I’ve finished writing it. I had to destroy the last one I wrote to you, too, because I said some things about your problem. If they found any of the letters, they’d be angry and I’d get into trouble, but the rest of you will be safe. I couldn’t risk them finding out about your problem, and I can’t risk them finding out about us.

I dreamed about you last night.

We were in bed (your bed, I think, but that wasn’t really an important part of the dream). You were kissing me, and touching me. I kissed you back and I said that I wanted you.

And you let me have you. Or, you had me, actually.

It felt so good and I just kept thinking how wonderful you were.

When I woke up, I had my hand down my pants.

I haven’t played with myself since the start of the summer. I’m too scared of someone catching me and what they’d do. If knocking over a salt seller can lose me my teeth for three days, I don’t want to know what the punishment for touching myself would be.

I do have an idea, actually. I don’t know if It’s just an idea, but I can’t stop thinking about it.

She said something last summer about how it would have been easier if I’d been a girl. I thought she meant because then Regulus would be the heir, and he stays in line better than I do. But then she said something about girls being easier to control. (I don’t know if that’s true, frankly. I can’t imagine that I’d like her and her bullshit any better just because I was a girl.) And father say said something about it not being too late and they said something about how maybe they’d still change their mind about me being their son.

I don’t really know what they meant, but it freaked me out. I mean, she’s made it pretty clear that she can take stuff away. I’m sure she can change things, too.

And I don’t think being a girl would be that bad, actually. I’ve never told you this, either, but I’ve thought to myself that I might actually like to be a girl, sometimes. It seems nice. Girls are nice, and it seems like it would be nice to be pretty. I don’t know if you’d like me if I was a girl, but I think I’d like myself, at the very least. If it was something I could just try for a bit, I think I’d like to try it and see what it’s like.

And I also know that being a boy or a girl isn’t just about what bits you’ve got. If I put on witch’s robes or a dress or makeup, that wouldn’t be what made me a girl, and if I had different parts, that wouldn’t be what mean I can’t be a boy.

But if she did it

If she tried to change me to make me behave better, to control me, to shame me and humiliate me

I think you’d understand why I’m scared. I hope I don’t have any more dreams like that.

Except I really liked that dream and it’s made me miss you so much. I want to see you so badly. I want to kiss you. I want to let you touch me everywhere. I want to fucking worship you. I want to make you feel so good so you understand how much I fucking adore you.

I want you, Moony. I want you and I want to write those words a thousand times, until no one can dispute it. I want you. I want you and no one else.

I want to do everything we’ve done before and a million things we haven’t. I’ve had ideas and I haven’t told you about a lot of it. Some of it I’m a bit embarrassed about because it seems kind of weird. But there are things I read about, in some of your books even, and I want to try s some of it. Everything you want to do, I’ll do it with you.

I want to kiss you down there and let you finish in my mouth. I want to swallow it.

I want to let you inside me. I want your fingers, your tongue, your cock, anything you want to give me.

I want to kiss every part of you so you understand that I adore all of it. All your scars, and all your joints that hurt and you don’t want to let us know about it, and every inch of skin. Everything.

I want to be good to you. I want to have you lying on the bed and I’ll make you feel so good and you’ll understand how much I want you and how much I’ve been missing you.

And I want you to be in control, too. I’ll lie there and let you do anything you want with me. I’ve even thought about letting you tie me up. I don’t know if I’d be all able to tell you about that. It seems a bit strange and it might make you uncomfortable. But I’ve imagined that before: you tying me up and using me how you want, and I can’t make any decisions; it’s all up to you. I wouldn’t be able to touch myself. I wouldn’t be able to come unless you let me. It makes me feel like a bit of a freak, but I fucking want that. I want you to treat me like I’m a freak.

I shouldn’t be writing about this. It’s going to make it even harder to go another month and change without… you know. It’ll probably be really embarrassing, when we are finally together again. I feel like I’ll come the moment you touch me.

But it’s not really about that. I miss you. I miss school and I miss my friends and I miss being able to go outside and talk and laugh. I miss you, Remus. I want to see you and hear you talk about all the stuff you’ve read in the holidays, and I want to see you smile. I just want to look at you.

I keep looking at the picture I have of you. I think you’re already a bit taller than you were then. I wonder how much taller you’ll be in September. I think you don’t know how handsome you are. Every time I put my quill down or dip it in the ink, I look at you, and I can’t stop thinking how lovely you look.

I’ll have to tell you, when I see you. You won’t get this letter and I won’t tell you everything in it, but I’ll tell you that. You are magnificent, Remus. There is no one in the world I enjoy looking at more than you.

With all my love, Sirius

Chapter 7: Kitchen Takeover

Dear Pete,

I’ve been thinking about the idea you had on the train, about messing with the food in the kitchens. Switching meals around would be fun, and probably not too difficult. If we find a way to mess with the clocks, or the light, or if we modify the house elves’ memories in some way (but that seems pretty cruel, so we probably shouldn't do that), we should be able to manage having breakfast for supper and so on.

I just thought it might be fun to do something a bit more weird. I’m not sure what exactly, but to get them to serve food they never serve otherwise. Maybe you and the rest have some ideas. We could get stuff you eat at home. Not the stuff they serve in my house. I don’t want to be reminded of this place when I’m not here. James is always banging on about his dad’s cooking and his mum’s desserts, so maybe we can find a way to have them served at school. Maybe on his birthday. That would be a nice surprise. The only problem is, Remus’s birthday is just before his. Maybe we can organise Moony’s school favourites for his birthday and Monty and Effie’s food for James’s. That’s not really a prank, I know. It’s more just a nice thing to do. It’s a birthday surprise at best.

And don’t worry, I’ll figure out what you want for yours. That’s still quite a while away. It might make you feel better while you’re going mad over O.W.L.s.

But in the meantime, we can find something really interesting to just do on a day we choose. I once visited a family where they served chicken breast pudding. Apparently, it’s a Turkish dessert. It had a slightly odd texture, but it was nice. We’ll just have to make sure people know it’s got meat in it, because there are some students who don’t eat meat.

Mary sometimes complains about the Hogwarts food. Maybe she can tell us something she’d like.

And it might be an idea to have a meal of just sweets. After a full moon, to make Moony happy. But maybe not right after, because he can get really hungry and should have proper food. But a day after, maybe.

And so it’s not just giving people what they like, maybe we can find out what Snivellus hates and get them to serve just that. Knowing him, it’ll probably be something normal people like, so it won’t mean we all have to suffer.

Regulus is too perfectly well behaved to ever say that he doesn’t like something, but I know he hates beetroot. He tries to hide it, but I can tell. He’s always hated beetroot. How do you feel about a meal of nothing but beetroot? Nah, doesn’t sound great to me, either. But we could probably arrange for it to be nothing but beetroot at the Slytherin table, and the rest of us can have a normal variety of things. I can’t really see the Slytherins going over to other tables to get food; they’re too stuck up.

This letter is a bit rambly, but I think I’ll keep it, so I can look back at these ideas and see if any of them are worth anything. Anyway, we’ll talk in September and find a way to convince the elves to do something different.

We probably wouldn’t get in much trouble, right? It’s pretty harmless, after all. But I do think we’ll have to let ourselves be found out. I wouldn’t want the elves to get into trouble because of something we’ve done.

Sincerely, Sirius

Chapter 8: Make the Castle Sing

Dear James,

I want to make the castle loud. I’m so sick of the quiet in this place. Even when I’m with the rest of them, no one talks properly. They just sit at the table and they talk quietly and politely about nothing. The only time it gets noisy is when they’re shouting at me and telling me what a disappointment I am. Even then, they’re usually quiet. It takes a bit to make them rave.

Sometimes they get Regulus to play the piano or something, but they don’t usually let me listen. They used to make me play, too, but they gave up eventually. I almost wish they still made me play. It would break the monotony, at least. And the music isn’t all horrible, even if it’s not my favourite style. It’s better than just sitting silently in my room.

Can we make the castle sing?

The paintings can talk. Some of them even sing sometimes. And Professor Flitwick can get the suits of armour to play Christmas carols.

Can we find a way to get them all to sing? I want the castle full of music. I’ll let you choose which music. I just want noise.

All though, I would like it to be something that pisses Reg off. It’s not really his fault. He’s not being horrible to me or anything. He mostly just ignores me, and that’s probably for the best. He did bring me that soup, but other than that he hasn’t really interacted with me at all. I do wish he’d talk to me. But he’d probably get in trouble if they knew about it and I don’t blame him for avoiding that.

Fuck it, let’s piss him off anyway. It’s just music, it’s not like it’ll hurt him. Something muggle, you have your pick, James. But loud, please.

It’s not exactly the most sophisticated prank, but it’s all I can come up with at the moment. I want to hear music. Humming quietly to myself is just getting frustrating. I want to hear music that’s really loud and I want to hear it everywhere.

Sincerely, Sirius

Chapter 9: Horror Cinema

Dear Remus,

I keep thinking about that film we watched, with the woman who reminded me of Andromeda. I miss her. Andromeda, I mean.

I saw Bellatrix today. She was talking to me, trying to taunt me, the usual. And I didn’t say anything, because I couldn’t. She kept asking me things and getting worked up about me not answering. I thought she was going to hex me, so I showed her that I don’t have a tongue. She thought it was hilarious. Fucking psycho.

The main woman in that film was a bit like Bellatrix, too, but she was a decent human being. I mean, I wanted her to live it until the end.

And the one who reminded me of Andromeda died. Well, pretty much everyone in that film died. I know I acted like it didn’t bother me, but it was rather upsetting. I liked the characters and I didn’t want them to die. And the killer was unsettling.

I wish I could spend some time with Andromeda instead of all these maniacs. They’ve started saying some pretty odd things. They’ve always been odd with their obsession with magic and blood purity and all that, but it’s been getting more strange and fanatical. Having Bellatrix over seemed to bring the worst out of everyone. They started saying things about how only proper purebloods should be allowed at Hogwarts. I mean, we’d end up with about ten students and two teachers in an enormous castle, so I don’t know how they think that would work. But they said some really fucked up stuff

I don’t want to think about that anymore.

Back to your creepy film. I never really understood what a tellephone was until I watched that thing, and now I’ll never forget it. It does seem awfully convenient, but it also seems pretty unpleasant, if people can just talk to you in your own house like that. I can’t believe those obscene tellephone calls you talked about are real. I mean, why would someone do that? I am glad they aren’t usually murderers, but why would you call a girl and tell her weird stuff like that? Not like I think muggles are strange. I know most of them don’t do that kind of thing, and wizards are certainly strange, too. If we had tellephones, I know some of us would do that kind of thing, too.

And that woman’s boyfriend was such a wanker. I almost wanted him to be the killer, because he was awful. If she doesn’t want to have a baby, that’s up to her. It’s not really much to do with him. Pity his name was “Peter”. I’m sure our Peter wouldn’t behave that badly.

But that main woman, who looks a bit like Bellatrix but less mental, she was quite pretty. You said you saw her in a film where you saw her tits, but you didn’t say if you liked it. Now I’m just giggling like an idiot, imagining how you’d blush if I asked you about that. Worse still, if we watched that film together. I can’t remember what you said it was called, otherwise I’d insist upon it. Just, you act so embarrassed about everything, and then when we’re alone together, it’s like you’re a different person, completely confident and unashamed. It’s okay for you to fancy girls, Moony, and it’s okay for you to like tits.

                               

I’d like to go to a film with you again, but maybe less scary. You seem to really like the scary stuff, but it was a bit much for me. I liked it, but it freaked me out more than I wanted to admit to you. You said you didn’t want to see the other one because it was romance. I don’t really want to watch romance, either, but I’m sure there are plenty of other sorts of film. James talked about liking the action one when I wasn’t allowed to visit. Maybe we can try one of those. Or anything you want.

Miss you and can’t wait to see you.

Sincerely, Sirius

Notes:

If anyone is curious about the film Sirius is referring to, it's Black Christmas (1974). It's a great early slasher film, and two of the prominent characters reminded me of Bellatrix and Andromeda, and I didn't even make the connection to the word Black in the title for like two years.

And the film where Remus "saw her tits" was Romeo and Juliet (1968). Teenage Olivia Hussey was not allowed to watch the film in cinemas, because only adults were allowed to see her naked...

Chapter 10: Breakdown

Dear Pete,

I’m starting to really lose it. She took my hair. I didn’t think that would bother me so much, but it’s like the final straw.

I actually started screaming. There was part of me that knew that was a really bad idea, because she was going to take my voice, but I couldn’t stop myself. I screamed and carried on like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Father dragged me to my room. He likes manhandling me, I think. She uses magic against me, but he hardly ever does. He dragged me up the stairs and I was flailing and he hit me and hit me again and I just kept screaming. He locked me in my room and I kept screaming and banged on the door. I don’t even know why. It’s not like anything would have been different if I’d been in a different part of the house. But I just wanted to get out, out of this fucking place.

They left me to scream for a while, then he came back, hit me somre some more, forced me into the fucking cupboard. Not even my cupboard where my clothes are. This tiny one in the passage where Kreacher keeps cleaning supplies and stuff. It was pitch dark and I didn’t stop screaming, obviously. He put a silencing spell on the door (or maybe it was her, what’s the difference?). At least it was just on the door and not on me. And they left me in there until morning. After breakfast. Probably only did it then because they were having a party and wanted me to look presentable.

She didn’t give my hair back. Fucking

Now I’ve been crying and I hate everything.

Do you have any idea how humiliating it was, having everyone see me like that? I hate it. hate that she can control me. I hate it.

Maybe I will make a run for it. I wrote to James it would be too difficult, but I’m starting to think I should just do it. Even if I just live on the street until September, at least no one will take bits off me.

Except they’ve locked me in. Maybe they can tell that the living conditions here are inhumane and I’d want to get away. The door’s locked and the windows are sealed shut. This is mad.

Sorry this is such a miserable ll letter. Maybe I’ll be in a better mood for the next one.

Fat chance.

Unless I find a way out of here in the next few days.

Anyway. Thinking of you, Pete.

Sincerely, Sirius

Chapter 11: A Shell

James,

Father hit Regulus today, and I didn’t do anything. I just sat there. I

It was at dinner and they were talking. It had something to do with Reg’s friends. I wasn’t paying that much attention. He must have said something wrong, something they didn’t approve of, and suddenly Father slapped him across the face. It was so loud, I actually jumped. And then Reg was sitting there, and his cheek was turning red and swelling up and he looked like he was about to cry, and I just sat thr there.

I was so scared of what they would do if I did anything wrong, that I did nothing. I just looked at my food.

All these years, I told myself that at least I was helping him stay out of trouble. With all my nonsense, he always looked good by comparison. I even provoked them on purpose someth sometimes, so they wouldn’t notice if he’d done something wrong. And now? Now they hit him and I just sit there. I’m no use to anyone. I’m just taking up space.

If I put the sorting hat on now, it wouldn’t put me in Gryffindor. I’m not brave enough for anything anymore. I’m just afraid and I do whatever they want me to. So they’ve won.

For a while, I told myself they hadn’t, because I still disagreed with them inside. But what does it matter if I feel like I should be defiant, when I actually play along with whatever they want and do exactly as they tell me to?

I’ve started thinking that, even if I do go back to school, I can’t be your friend anymore. I can’t be adventurous or tell jokes anymore. I can’t laugh. I can’t be happy. I’ve started hating what I am. I’m not your friend. That friend you had is gone. What’s left… I think it’s just a shell of a person. I think there’s nothing inside anymore. And that empty shell can’t be your friend.

Chapter 12: Reality

Dear James,

I think I’m losing my mind. I don’t know if you’re real anymore.

                        Ille

I can remember you. But it’s like it must have been a dream. I must have made it all up. I’m starting to think I’ve always been here, and I just made up that I have friends.

I want to believe you’re real, but it’s starting to feel ridiculous. I couldn’t possibly have good friends and go to school and fly and play quidditch and have fun. My life is miserable and I’ve just invented all that to make myself feel better.

Are you real?

I can’t have a friend as good as you. You’re so nice and you always say the right thing to make me feel okay. You’re always there for me. You lie in my bed with me. I must have made that up. Because I feel so lonely. When I’m in this huge bed by myself, I just want someone to hold me and tell me I’ll be okay. That it won’t always be this bad. So I made up that I have a friend who does that for me.

James

I do have that photograph. But that’s not actually us, is it? It can’t be.

I looked at that photograph and I saw those friends and wished I could be part of that. And then I pretended to myself that I was. The one who I thought was me

I don’t look like that. That can’t be me. That boy looks so happy. That’s not me. I just wish that was me.

And there’s his best friend, and that’s you. And I made up that he’s the best, funniest person.

And the boy on the left looks nervous, so I decided that he must be the more insecure one who stresses about school and needs more help than I do.

And there’s the one I found handsome, so I made up that he cares about me. I made up that there’s someone who tells me I’m beautiful, because I feel fucking hideous. I am. I look

I don’t know why I would make up that he’s a wer – Well, you know. And a half-blood, too. Maybe because my parents wouldn’t like it.

Makes sense to me that I’d make him smart, though. A hard worker, because I’m so fucking lazy and useless.

Maybe you are real. I can’t tell anymore. Either way, I’m going mad. But I do hope you’re real. I hope you’re real and that you’re really as happy as I think you are. And I hope I see you again soon. I’m losing track of the days now, but it can’t be that much longer. I feel like I’ve been here forever.

 

I know for certain that you’re real now.

I managed to see Regulus and give him a note asking who the people in the photograph were. He said they were my friends from school. He looked worried. I suppose that makes sense. I have been behaving like a madman, and now I can’t even tell whether I’ve really been to school or not.

But you’re real. That means I’ll see you again. That means I don’t have to be here that much longer. I’m still not sure what day it is, but that doesn’t matter. There’s an end. I’m going to leave this place and I’m going to see you again. I still feel a bit confused and some of the things I remember might not be real, but you are. I’m going to see you again.

I can’t wait to see you again and to be out of this place.

Love, Sirius

Chapter 13: Full Moon

   Moony,

I watched the moon last night and thought of you.

I know it wasn’t a pleasant time for you, but all I could think was how by the next moon, we’ll be together again. I know you’ll hate it, but I’ll visit you in the hospital wing and I’ll see you. I know I’ve been saying all summer that I can’t wait to see you all, but it feels so close now.

I’m looking forward to everything: the train journey and the welcome feast, of course, and talking into the night, lazing by the lake, flying, even learning and homework. I’m looking forward to getting up to nonsense with James and Pete, and you rolling your eyes at us. I’m looking forward to… Well, you know.

I hope last night wasn’t too bad for you. I always hope that, of course. It’s just harder when I can’t see you and know how you’re doing. I wish I could check that you’re okay.

I watched the moon all night, thinking about you. Even after it set, I was awake until it started to get light outside.

I wonder how much you’ve thought about me. Probably not that much, because you’ve got better stuff going on. But I’m sure you thought about me a bit. I’m sure you missed me a little, too.

You always look happy to see me when we meet on the train. Did you know that? Even before I understood what I was feeling, I saw how you’d smile when you saw me and it made me feel warm.

I keep looking at the photograph of us. I wonder how different you’ll look next time I see you for real. Not that different. It feels like it’s been years, but it’s only two months. You won’t have changed that much in two months.

Do you have any idea how han

I don’t want to destroy this letter. I want to keep it, even if I never give it to you. I want to be able to read it back and remember how I felt thinking about you. So I won’t say anything that could get either of us into that much trouble.

                                    

I’ll see you soon. Ten days, then I’ll see you.

Love, Sirius

Notes:

Incidentally, there's a lunar eclipse here tonight.