InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "hmm"

Sirius O. Black (pad_foot) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2010-11-01 23:54:00

Entry tags:

!closed, hermione watson, sirius black

Who: Sirius and Hermione
When: November 1st, VERY early morning
Where: Hermione's apartment
What: Sirius doesn't want to be alone after leaving his brother.
Rating: Medium for adult themes
Status: Incomplete, closed

Sirius transformed back into human form in Hermione’s corridor, slumping one shoulder against the door as he knocked and waited, letting a yawn stretch his features. He could smell himself, his sense still sharpened from his brief time as Padfoot – he stank of cigarettes and the general grime of the motel room in which he’d spent the night. Not to mention the faintly lingering scent of Regulus’ rejected fast food. Merlin, he was exhausted. Sirius could normally cope with a night without sleep, but tonight… tonight had been draining in more ways than one.

His head was spinning.

Sirius could rant about most things until the cows came home. But the subject of his family was one that was almost guaranteed to make him shut up faster than anyone believed possible. And this wasn’t any different. Sirius didn’t want to talk. He would brood over whatever had happened tonight for a while, perhaps get very drunk, and then deal with it when he had to. Starting by bashing Severus Snape’s enormous nose into his smug face. But he also didn’t want to be on his own.

The door opened, and Sirius jumped up quick enough to prevent himself falling face first at Hermione’s feet. Which was never a good look. He offered her a sleepy smile, pushing his hair from his face and closing a hand around the door-frame to steady himself.

“Morning,” he offered hoarsely.

Ten minutes later Sirius Black was passed out on the sofa, one arm thrown up over his head, dark hair splayed over the pillow in a bizarre halo and his brow crumpled in a faint frown as he dreamt.

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the_cleverest
2010-11-02 12:10 am UTC (link)

Hermione had been more than ready to talk. Or not talk. She knew from experience that trying to get stubborn young men to talk about their feelings was futile when they didn't cooperate. But she was quite good at providing a cup of caffeinated beverage and simply waiting for the floodgates to open. Coming back from the kitchen to find Sirius asleep on the sofa wasn't quite what she had expected.

But he had looked absolutely knackered, and even as she sighed in irritation she was setting down the two mugs and shaking her head fondly. He needed the rest. So she pushed up the sleeves of the jumper she'd borrowed from John and cast a quick spell to dispel some of the reek hanging around Sirius. And then she draped a blanket over him before taking her cup over to the table and going back to her reading. They could talk when he woke up.

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pad_foot
2010-11-02 12:24 am UTC (link)

In Sirius' dream, he was ten years old and his Mother was shouting. So he shouted back. And then he felt a small hand grab his elbow and turned around to see Regulus looking up at him earnestly. Then the smell of vomit swelled up around them and they were in the hotel room, Regulus suddenly older even as he remained a child, a deathly pallor to his skin and a needle on the floor. Sirius, stuck in his childish body, screamed and woke.

He started awake, sitting bolt upright with a gasp and almost tumbling off the sofa he'd turned into a makeshift bed. Someone had thrown a blanket over him, and it was tangled tightly around his long legs so he was forced to kick it irritably off. Sirius swung his feet onto the floor and groaned, burying his head in his hands.

"Fucking hell."

Sirius dragged two cold palms down his face, blinking the sleep from his eyes and looking around. His head was pounding. He couldn't have been asleep for more than half an hour, and it didn't feel like it had done him any good. The image of Regulus and the needle floated to the front of his mind, and his stomach squirmed.

Finally Sirius spotted Hermione curled over her book, and forced himself to stand and lurch over the room, falling into the seat beside her. "Hey."

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the_cleverest
2010-11-02 12:42 am UTC (link)

The mug floated over from the coffee table and landed gently in front of Sirius. Another wave of her wand and the coffee was steaming and hot.

"Hi." Hermione turned her page, then laid the wand down to mark her place. "I take it you didn't sleep well." She didn't look at him. She didn't need to. The gasp and the near-fall had caught her attention and made it more than obvious that he was dreaming of something extremely unpleasant.

"Do you want anything to go with that, or would you rather skip it?"

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pad_foot
2010-11-02 12:53 am UTC (link)

Sirius wrapped both hands around the steaming mug of coffee, smothering another yawn and flicking hair from his eyes. "Not really," he replied shortly. "Your sofa's not the most comfortable." He was quite aware that she might have been referring to the night just gone, but the reply that he'd spent all night making sure his brother didn't drown in his own puke and chain smoking was not one he thought would go down too well.

Sirius' stomach growled in answer to her question, and Sirius cocked an eyebrow, doing his best to appear well rested and jovial. In all honesty, he could definitely use some bacon right about now. Bacon was good. Bacon fixed things. Usually. Sirius lifted the coffee to his lips, almost smiling when he realized Hermione had made it just the way he liked it - black, strong and chock full of sugar.

"Sorry about last night. Good time?" He blew the steam away, and took a grateful sip of the scalding liquid.

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the_cleverest
2010-11-02 11:42 am UTC (link)

Now she was turning to him with a faint smile on her face. "Oh, I don't know, Sherlock appears to spend enough time there. Then again, he may find it more comfortable if it's actively poking him in the back. He's a bit of an odd duck." Which was a massive understatement. But she liked her flatmate far more than she'd expected to, even if he did infuriate her on a regular basis - which appeared to be part of any relationship with Sherlock, so that was fair.

The growl of Sirius's stomach broadened her smile. "I'll take that as a yes." She moved into the kitchen, getting out the eggs, bacon and bread and setting them all cooking with another few flicks of her wand. Hermione generally tried to restrict using her magic around John and Sherlock, since they still weren't used to it, but Sirius would have no such objection.

"It's all right. I ended up going to a wedding party for Claire Bennet and Dean Winchester. Claire's a friend of Sherlock's. It was good fun, actually, I even managed to get John to dance..." She trailed off, reaching past Sirius for her coffee and putting her free hand on his shoulder. "What kept you busy?"

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pad_foot
2010-11-02 07:20 pm UTC (link)

The faint smell of slowly cooking breakfast started to flood the kitchen as Sirius toyed with the coffee, spinning the mug round and round more that he actually drank any. He fixed his gaze on the drink, watching the steam curl and dissolve in the air as Hermione's words washed over him gently. He just about managed to nod and smile in the right places, even letting a low, canine bark of laughter escape when she mentioned John dancing. His thoughts, however, were back in the motel room.

A small hand brushed his shoulder, and Sirius glanced up at her. "Oh..." he hesitated, then shrugged. "Regulus. You know what he's like. He's... um..." Sirius frowned down at his coffee. "He's the only person in the world I could run away from, spend four years without talking to, move into some freakish other-dimension city and somehow still end up looking after."

Sirius attempted to cock a grin, then stretched, reaching long arms upward.

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the_cleverest
2010-11-03 01:49 pm UTC (link)

"I actually don't know that much about him," she replied, shifting away so he didn't hit her in the face as he stretched. "Only the bare outlines and a few deeds he carried out." Sibling relationships were endlessly fascinating to Hermione, as an only child. The Weasleys provided more than enough fodder for speculation and theorising. But the troubled connection between Sirius and Regulus was new and intriguing.

"Why did he need looking after?" she asked, still looking down at him with her hand on his shoulder.

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pad_foot
2010-11-03 05:22 pm UTC (link)

With another heavy sigh, Sirius unwound his hands from the safety of the mug, which he had been clinging to as if it was some kind of lifebelt to keep him from drowning. His relationship with his brother was complicated he didn't even know how to put it into words, couldn't expect someone to understand when even he didn't quite know how it worked.

He didn't hate Regulus - after last night he had to accept that. But it didn't change the fact that he wanted to. He wanted to hate him so much it was physically painful, wanted to be able to turn back and let the bigoted little narcissist destroy himself completely, and not give a shit. But it turned out that eleven years of shared childhood nightmares, eleven years of being each others only real friend, being the only two who knew how bad things really were, was not as easy as that to erase. No matter how he wished it.

So Sirius pretended. He wound Regulus up until they would argue and scream and swear and it was easy for everyone to think that was all there was to it. If they fought enough, if Sirius placed enough distance between them, perhaps he'd start to fool himself. If had worked for a long time. Until now.

It was way too early for this kind of self-realization.

"Heroin," Sirius finally croaked, gaze fixed on the table. "He was shooting himself full of fucking heroin."

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the_cleverest
2010-11-03 06:24 pm UTC (link)

The thought of a wizard taking Muggle street drugs would never have occurred to Hermione. She couldn't quite fathom it. And Regulus, scion of the Blacks, the last of them to attempt to hold up their ideals - well, she could understand in an abstract way why he might crack under the pressure, but turning into a common junkie was beyond her. But it was Sirius' reaction that might have surprised her the most. For all that he tormented his brother and claimed to hate him, it seemed that the truth was a bit more complex. Hermione carefully set down her mug before leaning over Sirius and wrapping her arms around him in an awkward hug.

"Oh, Sirius. Is he all right? Are you all right?"

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pad_foot
2010-11-04 01:28 pm UTC (link)

Sirius's muscles tensed as Hermione's arms wrapped around him, and his automatic reaction was indignation. He didn't need sympathy. Had never wanted sympathy for his family situation. Perhaps that was the pride he'd reluctantly inherited. But after a moment something broke and the young man sagged, letting his head fall onto Hermione's shoulder and shutting his eyes tight.

It was rare that Sirius honestly felt as young as his twenty years - he'd fought in a war, had a godson, had lived in a family where he'd been forced to be adult before he hit his teens. He'd left home at sixteen.

"I'm fine," he told Hermione, made slightly hard to believe by the way his words were muffled by the hug. He pulled away. "I'm perfect," he told her again. "And Reg was alright when I left him. I think. It's just..." he turned away, reaching for the cooling coffee. "I don't understand him any more."

He took a sip of the drink, more to break her stare than anything else. "Where' John?"

It was probably the worst attempt to change the subject that had ever been attempted.

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the_cleverest
2010-11-04 02:06 pm UTC (link)

For a moment Hermione thought she was getting through, past Sirius's wall of charm and jokes and arrogance and pride. She could feel it in the way he leaned against her and let someone else support him. But then the moment passed and he pulled away, claiming normality. "We both know that's not true," she said, looking down at him skeptically before going to rescue their breakfast. It wasn't as if she couldn't understand why he was reluctant to talk. She'd had to grow up far too soon as well - helping Harry defeat Voldemort starting at age eleven, sending her parents off to Australia with no knowledge that she even existed, enduring pureblood prejudice from her first day at Hogwarts. But her parents had been loving and supportive, and her friends had stood by her. And Sirius was a young man and they were the worst at discussing their feelings.

"I hope you like your bacon very crispy," she said over her shoulder, ending the charms that had kept the utensils moving and putting the food on plates. "And John's at the clinic and won't be back for hours, so you're going to have to put up with more of my nosy questions." Hermione carried the plates out of the kitchen and set one in front of Sirius, looking at him directly. "What do you mean, you don't understand him?" Not that she didn't have a fairly good idea, but having him articulate it would help, surely.

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pad_foot
2010-11-04 05:12 pm UTC (link)

Sirius chuckled at the bacon comment, watching as Hermione fussed over the food. He was suddenly forcibly reminded of James’ mother, or Lily. One of the women who had fussed over him and James and seemed to make food more or less endlessly in a crisis. It was... soothing.

He settled back as the bushy haired woman shoved a plate laden with breakfast down in front of him, smiling despite everything at the sight of the thoroughly unhealthy and so-very-comforting pile of food. He reached for his knife and fork, scooting closer to eat so that the chair screeched a little against the floor. It took him a moment, where he busied himself with the meal, but eventually he answered the question.

“Reg was... He was my best friend when we were little. The only one who knew about...” he swallowed, pushing down the rest of that sentence down with the mouthful. “I could read him like a fucking book. Then I went to Hogwarts, and it all fell apart. He joined the Death Eaters, I joined the Order. It was pretty cut and dry. And now he’s here and he’s done a good thing but... I don’t know. I don’t know why. I don’t understand why he did all that, after spending so long tagging along with what they wanted. Why I can’t just...” Sirius wasn’t making much sense, he realized. The young man rested his knife and fork for a moment, which had been working furiously at cutting up breakfast without bringing more than a morsel to his lips.

“I don’t want to care,” he admitted. “I fucking hate the whole lot of them. He reminds me too much of... then. And still I can’t watch him hurt himself. You know?”

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the_cleverest
2010-11-05 11:29 am UTC (link)

Hermione had barely touched her food, choosing instead to focus on what Sirius was saying. Teasing out connections and making logical conclusions was what she did best. And while psychology was an unheard-of concept among wizards, she honestly did think that getting Sirius to talk through everything would be massively beneficial. Even if it would be difficult. How could it not be, when he was discussing how his beloved little brother had fallen under the sway of the Dark Arts and Voldemort?

"Have you asked him? Why he did it, I mean. And not when you were trying to provoke him, because I know that's how you normally carry on." She gave him an even look, daring him to challenge her on that point. "People change, Sirius. You should know that. Is it impossible to believe that he had a change of heart?" Unbidden, the image of Kreacher shrieking out his tale of the last hours of Regulus rose up in her mind, and she closed her eyes hastily. This was no time to lose composure.

"I know. He was your best friend. And he's your little brother. Even with what he did I can't imagine it's easy to watch him kill himself slowly." Hermione was tempted to hug him again, but that might have resulted in bacon in her hair.

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pad_foot
2010-11-06 11:35 am UTC (link)

Sirius felt it coming before there was any outward sign, could feel that pressure in his chest rise up to his throat, his thoughts become slow and bitter and a red mist settle over them. Sirius knew his moods could be erratic, to say the least. Yet another trait that linked him to his family, one he'd rather never existed. But there was nothing to stop it, and he felt his grip tighten painfully on his cutlery so the stainless steel edge created an angry red welt in his palm.

"It's not that." Sirius tried to keep his composure, speaking through the mists of his temper with his teeth gritted. It was always easier for him to be angry than upset - you couldn't defend yourself, or anyone else, if you were busy blubbering into your collar. "I couldn't stand being around long before the Death Eater thing. I dunno why everyone seems to think that's my major problem with him. It's not like I didn't fucking expect it to happen."

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the_cleverest
2010-11-06 03:44 pm UTC (link)

The clenching of his hands didn't escape her notice, and Hermione pressed her lips together in thought. "Then what is it? I know you left home, but I always thought that was more to do with the rest of your family. Not Regulus." She tilted her head, considering whether or not to put her hand on his arm. It really was like dealing with a dog; easily startled and easily angered.

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