Hey guys, I know, another long while :(
don’t hate me, you know how it is, you know, living and stuff lol. Especially in highschool. I’m surprised I have time to breathe!
Anyway, enough about that, I wanted to write this to talk about this story.
I’m tell everyone right now that I have an IDEA of where this is going, but I have NO IDEA of how it’s going to get there, so for now everyone just has to bear with me, and hopefully the story will be up to my usually standards, because I’ve had a lot of fun writing it so far and I would be disappointed if it wasn’t good because then I would want to stop writing it, and well, then it wouldn’t be fun anymore.
So please tell me what you think of it.
I’m also dealing with some very deep subjects in this story, and I’m going to say that it’s probably one of my more sombre ideas (which is a lot coming from me, considering I’ve had people tell me that my stories are already dark). I just hope that it doesn’t turn you off of this story, because despite that, there will be witty moments.
After all, it’s Sirius I’m writing about here.
This story is probably what I’m going to be working on for the next little while, this and “I am my Mother’s Son” I think. Maybe other chapters of other things if I get in the mood to write them, but it’s not likely. Not at the moment at least :( sorry to anyone waiting for chapters for something else. As of right now I just don’t have the time or inspiration for my other works.
Anyway, thanks for listening to me chat.
Read on my little darlings *throwslove*
One The Character I Am
Don’t go asking other people about me, you’ll be wasting your time. You will never get the real me from any of them. There are very few people who know the real me, and that’s the way I like it. After all, if the world knew the things I did, the things I keep secret, they would look at me in a completely different way.
People don’t want to know about those things anyway. They have enough to worry about in their own lives I’m sure. No one wants to hear me complain about my marks, or how my brother hates me, or how no matter the amount of effort I put in, I will never please my parents unless I become a death eater.
No, people don’t want to hear about that. They would much rather see the me that I give them, the one that has nothing better to do with his time then think up pranks with his best friends, the one that’s always questioning the professors, the one that takes pleasure in feminine attention. The rebel, the heartthrob, the prefect friend.
Even I liked that image better. And pretending to be this way helps me forget who I really am. The character takes over me until the night, back when I’m alone in my head.
I’m good at what I do. After all, acting is a trait of the Blacks, along with good physical genes and short tempers. It’s what keeps us alive. It’s how we survived in a vicious world. It’s how I survived in one much crueller. And I would always be a Black. I hated it, but I knew that I was. I would live and die one. I could drain myself of every drop of blood in my body, and I would still be a Black. Because it wasn’t part of my blood, but in the very marrow of my bones.
As much as I despise it, as much as I wish it wasn’t true, I knew that deep down I was thankful for this small benefit of being a Black. I was thankful for being an actor because it made it so much easier to hide myself away; to hide away the rest of the Black in me. The one that was damaged, broken, that wasn’t as handsome as the face that most people would tell you was me. Perhaps if I was someone else I wouldn’t need to hide, therefore wouldn’t need to act, but I knew that it wasn’t likely. Everyone was hiding something. I was just thankful that I was good at it.
Bloody hell it hurt.
I forced myself to breath steady, quietly, knowing that as long as I kept oxygen coming in and out I would be fine.
I let my eyes close, the muffled chatter of Remus, James and Peter on the other side of the door turning into nothing but ambiance, distant, like I was underwater. Alone, my mind finally calmed as it deals with the pain. Their voices merged with the throb of my blood, which I could hear in my ears along with the sound of my breath in and out of my lungs, confirming that I was still alive.
It hurt every time I did it, sometimes seemingly more than the last. You think I would have learned, like my mind would comprehend that it would cause me pain, but it seems that every time I go back to the crude distraction, I simply forget all the times before. My mind wants nothing more than to be rid of the emotional pain, to enter this state of complete shutdown where it only has to focus on the physical reactions of my body, that it does me the favour of only remembering the relief I get afterwards, the emptiness of my mind that follows, making it possible to cut the skin again and again.
It lasts just long enough to be satisfying, just long enough to calm me completely for a moment, my body numbing the pain to cope, both the physical and emotional, before the frustration with myself floods into my mind and I’m back where I started. I shut my eyes tighter against the sting of tears flooding them. I hated that feeling more than the pain. The hopelessness, the tightness in my throat that made it harder to breath.
My eyes jumped open when a banging came to the door, and I instantly got to my feet, stashing the pocketknife in my trousers and tossing the wade of bloody toilet paper where the name implied it belonged, flushing it down, out of sight. My time alone in my head was up, as it usually was very quickly with a dorm full of teenage boys.
It was time to go back on stage. After all, they were depending on me to be normal, regular Sirius. They had been too careful around me today, ever since my row with Regulus that morning at breakfast. I needed to show them that I was fine.
I needed them to stop being timid.
“Merlin Sirius, what’s taking you so bloody long? Are you wanking off in there?” I yanked the sleeve of my black sweater down over my arm before pulling the door that separated us open, catching James mid-knock with a small bit of shock crawling over his features when he realized the door was no longer there.
“Why? Care to join me Prongs?” I asked, smirking and grabbing the wrist of his formally knocking hand, dragging him into the room with me, and closing the door behind us while hearing Peter and Remus already laughing on the other side.
“Get off me you perv.” James objected, although there was a ring of laughter in his voice as I wrapped his head in a lock with my arm and messed his hair, which wasn’t a hard task considering it was already often messy anyway.
“What are you doing?” he asked as I tugged at his tie to loosen it then unbuttoned a few buttons at the top of his shirt before pulling it out from being tucked into his trousers, pushing his hands aside frequently as he tried to stop me.
“Aw comeon James, you’re not that prude are you?” I said, louder than necessary; playing up my joke as I grabbed his glasses to breathe two hot breaths on the lenses to fog them up, putting the glasses back onto his face, slightly skewed to one side. As a final touch I pinched his cheeks roughly, bringing a rush of red to them and making him yelp slightly in pain before I grabbed his shirt, opened the door and shoved him back outside.
I stood back to appraise my work as he stood in the middle of the dorm room for a moment of embarrassment. Pleased that I had succeeded in making him look like he was coming straight out of a fiery snogging session, I smiled wide as he glared at me the moment Remus and Peter fell down in fits of laughter at their beds.
“You’re cruel.” He commented, trying to tidy himself as I replied with a shrug, smirking. I knew he wasn’t that upset, because James valued a good laugh. It was part of his morals, even if the laugh was at his own expense.
That’s what I liked about James. He was the type to try and lighten a serious situation with a stupid joke, or try and pick up a girl with a lame line, so lame that the girl had to simply go out with him for the balls he has for even attempting with such a bad conversation starter. That was probably why he was my best friend. He was more like me then anyone I had ever met. But because of that, we knew very little about each other. We only really spoke about the necessaries, neither of us wanting to get into serious or depressing details about our lives, therefore when we’re together its like, a whole different world where the sad stuff doesn’t exist.
James is like, my public distraction. He keeps my mind on my character and away from the demons that lay dormant under the surface.
“Now that James has had his fill, anyone else for a little Padfoot love?” I asked, jumping up on my bed and using one of the foot posts to support me as I jumped to Peter’s.
“Hmmm...” I eyed him carefully, daringly, but only waited long enough for his eyes to widen a little before continuing on, knowing that he would never survive the awkwardness of me sitting on my like the other two boys endured easily.
Peter and I weren’t as close as I was to James or Remus, but that was only because I hadn’t know him quite as long as the other two boys. None the less, I didn’t mind his company. He tended to be the one we poked fun at, being a little slow to catch onto our joke sometimes, making it impossible not to laugh when he finally got it minutes later. He also had the best laugh in the world, the type of laughs that just makes you laugh too, infectious and light-hearted, with an honesty behind it that made it seem that he genuinely thought what you had said or did was funny. I still remember the time that we laughed for ten minutes straight, and how sore my stomach was after. Strangely enough, I don’t remember what was so funny, all I remember was Peter laughing.
I moved my attention onto Remus, who had returned to the pages of his book, propped up against his headboard with the hard cover held between the long fingers of his hands. That boy and his books.
“Moony.” I sighed, shaking my head slightly as I stepped off of Peter’s bed and flopped down on the bit of space on the bed next to the last of my three friends that I had yet to torture.
“Yes Sirius?” he asked, collected, although I caught the smile in his tone, and I grinned myself. If only the girls of Hogwarts knew this Remus, this one that had a personality beyond books and prefect duties. They would be on him like a dog to a bone.
No pun intended.
Remus was about as good a friend as James, but for completely different reasons. While James and I were practically identical, Remus was my polar opposite. He was subtle and quiet while I was loud and obvious. His mind often functioned logically, he would rather think something out before acting, while I barely thought at all and was proud of that quality. He was secretive like me, but only with outsiders. When it came to the four of us, there was almost nothing we didn’t know about him, because he made himself very easily readable to us, which only gave us many opportunities to tease him. If it was anyone other than Remus the teasing might affect them, but he also had a strong sense of reality, and knew that we only joked because we really did care.
I knew everything about that boy, while he knew almost nothing about me except the few things I told him, and I knew that this bothered him a lot. This lead him to constantly analyzing me, trying to figure me out, which was a lost cause in my opinion because I was unreadable once in character, so I let him. I would often find him watching me, trying to find a falter in my act. I wondered if sometimes he knew it was all a show.
I wondered if sometimes he was just waiting for a crack to pry open.
“Do those books magically turn into really fit girls when you’re finished reading them?” I asked, flicking my eyes up to look above me, to gauge his reaction. I loved to tease him, because he was the only one to play along, never being one to back down from a direct confrontation; another thing that few people knew about him because he never really got the opportunity to be in a confrontation during school hours. No one really cared about him enough to bother him, and I think he liked it that way.
I knew Peter and James were still listening, waiting for my playful torture of Remus to commence, hoping like I was that perhaps this time I could made him lose his cool. But he simply smiled, never taking his eyes off the page. He was always so calm, so collected even though when I acted like this with James and Peter they became cautious and carefully aware of my intent behind my innocence.
It annoyed me sometimes that he was so hard to break. One of these days I would have to kiss him just to see if he’d be as calm as always.
“Unfortunately, no.” He replied, and I sighed, rolling closer to him onto my stomach and resting my head on my hands.
“Then why do you waste so much time on them when you could be out getting tail?” I made it sound as casual as possible, like I was honestly curious. Of course, he knew I was teasing, because I myself didn’t even bother that much with the female species. Yes, I was well aware of them, it was hard not to be when they all went out of their way to swagger their hips while passing me, but I tended to be a spectator only. I much rather bask in the glory of their attention instead of diving into a relationship with one. A relationship took patience, meaning I was defiantly not cut out for it.
“Sirius. You and I both know that I get more tail then a lot of boys my age.” He replied, trying to fake annoyance with my questions, which he didn’t pull off because he was already smirking at his own pun.
“Oh! Hardy har.” I said sarcastically, although I truly thought that it had been quite humorous. It was nice to see him joke about his, furry little problem, especially considering he tended to be very careful about how much he said in public, a habit of keeping it secret for the sixteen years of his life. That carefulness often continued when the four of us were in private because of it.
“You know that’s not the type of tail I was talking about.” I added a moment later.
“Well you can’t really talk when it comes to the other tail, considering you haven’t got any yourself as far as I can recall Pad.” He replied, his eyes peeking out from behind his book to see my reaction before hiding behind the hardcover again. I smirked now that I was sure he was only pretending to still read his book, then sneered playfully.
“It doesn’t matter if I have gotten it or not. It’s that I could if I wanted.” I corrected, getting up and making my move while I knew he was offended.
“I could too.” He objected, and I let my lip twitch as I watch him put his book down at his side and lift himself slightly from his casual, almost laying posture before, bringing him closer to my face now that I had positioned myself on my hands and knees over him. He realized only too quickly, distracted a moment before by his annoyance with my comment, and I knew I would have to distract him again.
“I don’t think you could.” I said simple, his brown eyes flickering back from awkwardness to aggravation. I wondered for a short moment if Peter and James were still paying attention, or if they had lost interest in my game yet. If they were still watching I was about to get a triple whammy of awkwardness, because this situation was about to get very gay.
I could care less of course. I was confident in my sexuality, and perfectly comfortable being in such a situation, knowing that I was simply friends with Remus, and I was just having a bit of fun. It was only a bit of sexual tension, and the only reason that they should be awkward is if they’re scared they might enjoy it.
“And why not?” he asked, brown eyes serious. Like he honestly thought I meant what I was saying. I smirked.
“Because you’re a prude.” I whispered, like it was a secret, before laughing when he scoffed.
“I am not.” He fired back, not even realizing when I sat, straddled on his hips. I yawned slightly, as if uninterested in the argument now, watching him carefully out of the corner of my eye as I took a glance around the room in boredom.
“Prove it then.” I replied finally, shrugging casually. Surely he knew my game too well to get caught up in it this easily. Remus sat up more, leaning back on his hands as he judged my expression for a moment.
“How?” He asked, walking into my trap. I felt a little disappointed in him, thinking that I had taught him better than that. It seems like he had a bit more to learn. Like to basically never trust me.
“Well, if you weren’t prude, you would be alright with a little sexual experimentation.” I said simply, sighing when he didn’t get it.
“Kiss me.” I knew that James and Peter were still attentive to the conversation only because when I said this the room became thick with a silent awkwardness, a sensation that made me almost laugh. I loved it. But, those two didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was finding out how far Remus was willing to take this. He would never outlast me, because I would snog him right here if it got a few dropped jaws, but it was fun to see how long he really would last.
His eyes widened the slightest bit, as if unsure if he had heard me right, before narrowing in determination. I smirked, loving how tolerable he was being tonight.
“Fine.” He said, but didn’t move for a long moment. He simply sat there, as if any movement would make him lose his new found confidence.
“I’m waiting.” I commented, hearing him clear his voice, annoyance in his tone again before he let out a breath to prepare himself, then brought a hand to the collar of my sweater and tugged me closer roughly, no more than an inch between our faces afterwards. I allowed my surprise to show on my features, but this tug was as far as he went. I held back a laugh.
“I can start if you want.” I offered, seeing the debate in his mind in the depth of his brown eyes, knowing he was wondering if I would really kiss him if he took the offer. Judging what he would have to do.
“Alright.” He agreed, and there was only enough time for him to see the smirk on my face before I moved forward, and he dropped on his back then shoved me off of him and onto the floor.
“Ok, you win!” he said while I laid, and the moment I heard a chuckle from James I broke into laughter myself, and soon enough we were all deep in the intoxication of hilarity.
These are the moments I try to think about when everything gets a little too hard to bare. These are the moments that help me cope, sometimes.
Other times, it doesn’t matter how good the memory, it doesn’t smother their voices. Other times the demons inside are just too loud.
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