Repairwork
Oct. 25th, 2006 06:34 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
toujours-sirius.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
hh_mirror((Like Cox's apology pony to Lily, backdated to a couple of days after Potions class and the strip-poker aftermath))
It had been a good few years since Sirius had spent the night in the Shrieking Shack. He had taken up a sort of sporadic residence there during the year he had been living in the Forbidden Forest and hunting Peter. Most of the time, he had slept in the Forest, but on some of the colder, wetter nights, he had taken up refuge in the Shrieking Shack, typically with Crookshanks's help. Contrary tofanon popular belief, on the other hand, Sirius hadn't spent nights in there with Remus before or after the full moon when they were teenagers. First of all, there was nothing romantic or sexual about that place, and second, although deranged slasher fangirls might think otherwise, Remus was not at all horny before or after his transformation. Nothing says sex like horrible pain due to the rearrangement of one's entire bone structure, right? WRONG.
But the Shack was nothing if not secluded, and as such, it was the perfect place for contemplation, solitude, and champion-scale liver pickling. In other words, after the mess that Potions class and strip poker had turned into, Sirius went there to think and drink - mostly the latter.
What the hell had happened with himself, Cox, and Lily? The only clear, resounding fact was that he had somehow managed to anger the both of them. Truth be told, he was pretty angry at himself as well. Whatever Cox and Lily had going was none of his business, and it shouldn't have been bothering him. He hated overprotectiveness and jealousy, and yet he had been feeling both in, well, spades from the moment Cox and Lily had kissed and made up, and for no good reason as far as he could tell.
Was it the James thing? Sirius wasn't really sure. Part of him still held onto the hope that one day he'd go into the Sorting Room and there would be James, his James. And when that happened, he knew how crushed James would be to find out Lily had moved on.
But he also knew that Lily had to move on, that she couldn't sit and wait around for something that might never happen. If she did that, months would turn into years, and years would turn into decades, and what if James never did come? Sirius didn't like thinking about that possibility, but he knew it was there.
If it was the James thing, however, it wasn't entirely the James thing. Something else had gone on there, something that had caused Sirius to feel this horrible, unstoppable wave of jealousy when he saw Lily and Cox being affectionate with each other. It was Sirius's job to console Lily and to make her happy. It was what he had promised James he would do, and it was what he wanted to do, because he loved and cared about Lily.
That still didn't explain the funny way he had felt when she had looked at him, but too much thinking made his head hurt, and he very quickly made short use of the Firewhisky bottle he had brought with him into the Shrieking Shack. After about three quarters of it had gone into his system and about half of that had come back out in a nice pile in the corner, everything was blurry and moving and he passed out on the bed, not aware enough to get under the covers.
He woke sometime in the late morning the next day with a wretched headache and a nasty taste in his mouth. The room smelled of drunk, and after using the loo, he crawled back into the bed, too hungover to attempt getting up for good. The sheets were dusty, but a quick spell cleared most of it off, and he slept again until evening, when he got up, Scourgified the mess he had made in the corner, and dragged himself back to the castle to clean up and get a bite to eat.
The next morning, after the alcohol had all passed through his system and he had got lots of rest, he felt his mind was clearer, and he sat down to write two owls, hoping to repair the bigger mess. He still wasn't sure what had gone on and why it had turned into such a wreck, but at this point the only thing he wanted was for it all to be smoothed over. He could deal with his own problems later, once he worked out what the hell they were in the first place.
Owl to Lily, heavily warded to play the Numa Numa song at ridiculously loud levels to any unintended readers:
Evans,
Are you okay? Still angry? Feeling groovy? Up for a round of poker?
JUST KIDDING.
Anyway, I just wanted to check on you and to apologise for whatever it that made you so angry. I promise I didn't stare at your melons. They're very nice, but I didn't stare.
- Sirius
Owl to Cox, heavily warded to play Daler Mehndi's 'Tunak Tunak Tun' at ridiculously loud levels to any unintended readers:
Perrilicious Perry,
Are we cool now?
- Sirius
It had been a good few years since Sirius had spent the night in the Shrieking Shack. He had taken up a sort of sporadic residence there during the year he had been living in the Forbidden Forest and hunting Peter. Most of the time, he had slept in the Forest, but on some of the colder, wetter nights, he had taken up refuge in the Shrieking Shack, typically with Crookshanks's help. Contrary to
But the Shack was nothing if not secluded, and as such, it was the perfect place for contemplation, solitude, and champion-scale liver pickling. In other words, after the mess that Potions class and strip poker had turned into, Sirius went there to think and drink - mostly the latter.
What the hell had happened with himself, Cox, and Lily? The only clear, resounding fact was that he had somehow managed to anger the both of them. Truth be told, he was pretty angry at himself as well. Whatever Cox and Lily had going was none of his business, and it shouldn't have been bothering him. He hated overprotectiveness and jealousy, and yet he had been feeling both in, well, spades from the moment Cox and Lily had kissed and made up, and for no good reason as far as he could tell.
Was it the James thing? Sirius wasn't really sure. Part of him still held onto the hope that one day he'd go into the Sorting Room and there would be James, his James. And when that happened, he knew how crushed James would be to find out Lily had moved on.
But he also knew that Lily had to move on, that she couldn't sit and wait around for something that might never happen. If she did that, months would turn into years, and years would turn into decades, and what if James never did come? Sirius didn't like thinking about that possibility, but he knew it was there.
If it was the James thing, however, it wasn't entirely the James thing. Something else had gone on there, something that had caused Sirius to feel this horrible, unstoppable wave of jealousy when he saw Lily and Cox being affectionate with each other. It was Sirius's job to console Lily and to make her happy. It was what he had promised James he would do, and it was what he wanted to do, because he loved and cared about Lily.
That still didn't explain the funny way he had felt when she had looked at him, but too much thinking made his head hurt, and he very quickly made short use of the Firewhisky bottle he had brought with him into the Shrieking Shack. After about three quarters of it had gone into his system and about half of that had come back out in a nice pile in the corner, everything was blurry and moving and he passed out on the bed, not aware enough to get under the covers.
He woke sometime in the late morning the next day with a wretched headache and a nasty taste in his mouth. The room smelled of drunk, and after using the loo, he crawled back into the bed, too hungover to attempt getting up for good. The sheets were dusty, but a quick spell cleared most of it off, and he slept again until evening, when he got up, Scourgified the mess he had made in the corner, and dragged himself back to the castle to clean up and get a bite to eat.
The next morning, after the alcohol had all passed through his system and he had got lots of rest, he felt his mind was clearer, and he sat down to write two owls, hoping to repair the bigger mess. He still wasn't sure what had gone on and why it had turned into such a wreck, but at this point the only thing he wanted was for it all to be smoothed over. He could deal with his own problems later, once he worked out what the hell they were in the first place.
Owl to Lily, heavily warded to play the Numa Numa song at ridiculously loud levels to any unintended readers:
Evans,
Are you okay? Still angry? Feeling groovy? Up for a round of poker?
JUST KIDDING.
Anyway, I just wanted to check on you and to apologise for whatever it that made you so angry. I promise I didn't stare at your melons. They're very nice, but I didn't stare.
- Sirius
Owl to Cox, heavily warded to play Daler Mehndi's 'Tunak Tunak Tun' at ridiculously loud levels to any unintended readers:
Are we cool now?
- Sirius
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Date: 2006-11-16 04:25 am (UTC)Lily's tight hug took Sirius by surprise, and after a second or two, he put his arms around her and hugged her back, one of his hands quickly finding its way into her hair. Talking about James was probably very painful for her, he figured, and he felt a sharp stab of guilt as he thought about how alone she must have felt when she had first arrived back at Hogwarts. She had had to grieve James all by herself, as Sirius had been too busy trying to relieve his past with a person who had turned out not to be his best friend after all, too busy insisting that he was. She had kept it all to herself; every time she had tried to mourn, Sirius had simultaneously comforted her and insisted she was wrong, that James would come around, that everything would return to normal. She had done this all alone, and for a moment Sirius burned with pride at how strong she had been, and ached with regret for his failure to have been there for her in the way she had needed.
Fiercely, he hugged her back. "All right, then," he repeated after her in a whisper, and then he had to smile at her attempt to justify why he needed a partner of sorts. He really didn't think of himself as a good catch as far as serious relationships went. Sex was one thing, and emotional committed relationships another entirely. He had been a sort of drifter for so long, without much in the way of goals or plans. If his own life wasn't stable, then there was no way he could expect - or want - anyone else to share it with him.
And it wasn't as if his 'dating profile' was much to speak of either. In the wizarding world, his name was pretty much dirt, whether it was because he had betrayed the noble and most ancient house of Black or because he had supposedly betrayed the Potters to Voldemort. His best chance was outside the wizarding world, which, in theory, was just fine by him, except that he imagined his life would be very difficult for a Muggle to truly understand at this point, and all the things that had happened, all the people he cared about - they couldn't just conveniently be ignored for a nice house in the suburbs, a white picket fence, and a job selling drills or something. Whomever he was with, that person would have to understand the Order and Voldemort, Harry and Lily, Azkaban and the Dementors...James and Peter. And that was to say nothing of the existence of magic in the first place. It was a lot to expect, and while Jim had actually done quite well with it all (Jim had been quite a flexible guy, physically and mentally), while he had accepted all of these things about Sirius, he hadn't been able to understand them the way Sirius had ultimately needed him to. Plus, he had had no intentions of moving back to Scotland with Sirius, and in Sirius's mind, there had never been any question of his going to find Harry at Hogwarts.
Of course, there was always Homsar, but Sirius knew he'd never commit - Jenga was as far as he'd take any partnership - and anyway, Sirius really had a hard time understanding his bizarre speech patterns.
On top of all of that, Sirius was under no delusions about the physical toll Azkaban had taken on him. He knew he was too thin. He knew he was prematurely aged. He knew he didn't have a 'movie star smile' any more, that there was something haunted and hollow about his eyes. And he knew his mind wasn't entirely right. He was a good friend, maybe - at least he really hoped he was. But a good catch? Maybe once, a long time ago. But not any more.
((Continued...))