Scars

Chapter 3

"Erm...look, I can explain."

Remus raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, well...I can't. But erm, I'll just pack all of this stuff away, and we'll leave it at that, shall we?" Sirius looked hopeful and pathetic.

"Sirius, you were going through my stuff. Rule number one of sharing living space with other people: respect their privacy. What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on, Remus, just leave it." Sirius hurriedly packed Remus' belongings into his trunk, and tried to walk past his friend, to leave the room. Remus' hand grabbed his wrist.

"Sirius, stay. What were you looking for?"

"Nothing."

"So you were going through my stuff for the sake of it?"

"Something like that."

"Sirius Black, you're the richest person I know. I don't have anything you'd want, and even if I did, you know I'd give it to you if you asked for it."

"I mustn't have been looking for anything then, must I?" Sirius tried to release his wrist from Remus' grasp. "Since when did you get so strong?"

"Since when did you lie to a friend?"

"Since when did you interfere in things that aren't your business?"

"You made it my business when you started going through my stuff. Now sit down, and tell me what's wrong, or I'll tell Professor McGonnagal that I caught you stealing."

Sirius was horrified. "You wouldn't."

"Of course I would. I'm a Prefect. The lowest of the low, remember?"

Sirius sighed. He didn't know what to do. "If I tell you, you mustn't tell anyone, right?"

Remus nodded.

Sirius unzipped his trousers. "What...?" said Remus, but he was silenced as Sirius pulled his trousers down, and Remus was faced with the series of scars on his friend's thighs.

"You wanted my ointment?" asked Remus. Sirius nodded once, unable to trust himself to speak without crying. "How did this...?" began Remus, before a look of realisation crossed his face. "You did this to yourself?"

Sirius pulled up his trousers, sat down, and gazed into the distance. "They're going to make us wear shorts in quidditch," he whispered. "Please help me?"

"But why -?"

"I don't want to talk about it, okay. And you promised you wouldn't, either."

"Alright." Remus walked over to his bedside drawers - the one place Sirius hadn't looked - and came back with a bottle of ointment. "Put this on your scars before you go to bed every night. You should notice a difference in a few days."

Sirius nodded. He looked even paler than he normally did, and he was shaking slightly. Remus sat down next to him, and tentatively put his arm around his friend. "It'll be okay, Sirius," he said, holding him to his chest, "I promise I'll help you."

Tears ran quickly down Sirius' cheeks, on to Remus' chest.

I can't be helped, he thought. The pain is what I deserve.