I, Sirius

TITLE: I, Sirius


AUTHOR: Lady Sirius

PAIRING: RL/SB

RATING: NC17

FEEDBACK: shelley_runyon@yahoo.com


DISCLAIMER: Of course all rights to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling

- I only wish that Sirius and Remus were mine, other than in my heart!


DEDICATION: To my glorious, talented, wondrous and everlastingly sexy
inspiration - Gary Oldman - and to all those fans whose enthusiasm and kind words keep me going!



I, Sirius
Reflections of the Brightest Star

Chapter V - The End of the Innocence

It was about that time that I began to spend a great deal of my free time in the kitchen at Grimmauld, there among the house elves, while my brother was busy being treated as the favoured son. I felt safe there, relaxed even, and no one acted as if I were in the way. I knew for a fact that my mother never deigned to enter the kitchen - it was beneath her dignity. It was what they had house elves for, don't you know? I'm sure the woman never even boiled water in her life, nor touched a cooking utensil (except perhaps to hit someone with it). And the preparation of the meals was beneath her notice, other than making known her demands as to what was to be served. And the yelling, if everything was not to her satisfaction. She'd have burst a major artery, I think, if she knew I was hobnobbing with the hired help. Hmmm, perhaps I should have let her find out? No, best not, cause things never work out the way you wish them to. Not in real life. Maybe in fairy tales and children's books. Sorry, just being honest. Why will you call me a cynic? Sometimes Remus does, yes.... and I've gotten off track, I see.

On reflection, she must have known I was there. She had her very own spy, Kreacher, didn't she, to observe my movements? I suspect that if he didn't inform her of this, it was due to Numa's influence, for although she was a gentle soul, I wouldn't care to be on the rough side of her tongue (and having said this, I have to think she actually held something over him, cause that creature was afraid of nothing or no one). At any rate. She watched over me, encouraged me - and thanks to her and the other elves, I actually learned to cook, because I observed them rather closely as they went about their tasks in the kitchen. Thanks to them, Remus and I eat rather well to this day, if I do say so myself, having become a rather good chef, and proud I am of it. And we ate well as we could when we were together in our flat. But that comes later. I'm getting ahead of myself. Again.

Looking back, it's so obvious to me now what I was blind to then - that Reg and I were beginning to grow apart. If I had only paid a little more attention to it then, but I was busy hiding away from them - from her, to be honest, my father was just never a part of the equation to begin with. And when push came to shove it was Walburga that held sway in that household, not Orion. I'm told I resemble him, other than my eyes. Perhaps that was part of what annoyed her. Course with our oh so intimate gene pool a certain familial resemblance was unavoidable, don't you think?

I spent less and less time outdoors in former childish pursuits and more and more time either in the kitchen or holed up in my room. It was still our room, at that point, but Reg apparently had his own life to live, and he wasn't the fixture in it that I was at times. I, on the other hand, had discovered the wonders that were contained within the family library, and would haul various volumes up to my room for private perusal. No, not pornographic novels (those were to come later). Actually, not novels at all, but tomes of a more serious nature - namely, magic, and especially those relating to the dark arts. What, you're surprised that my parents had such things in their library? After what I've told you about Voldemort - who by now was a regular visitor at #12 Grimmauld? Hello, this is the Blacks we are talking about here - one of the most notorious dark wizarding families ever. Every one of us, with one notable exception, were placed in the darkest house at Hogwarts - again, no coincidence.

And of course I had an innate interest in magic, and learning how to use it. I knew I that I possessed it. My abilities in that arena had been manifested at an early age, or so Numa told me. Once she even told me, quite in private of course, that my parents were afraid of my magic, that I might become stronger than them in it. But I put that down to her pride in me, and her desire to bolster my young ego. In light of later events, though, perhaps they saw something I did not see at the time. I don't pretend to be a wizard on the level of Dumbledore, or even Voldemort, by any means. But I am more than a match, I must admit, for most wizards. Including one Snivellus Snape, right bloody bastard that he is. Would that I had killed that git off in our youth, rather than..... Hang on, let me pull myself together.

There. Always happens when I think about him. Luckily, that isn't very often. Before I quit that subject, though, let me just say I've never had any doubt he was not a pureblood, which in and of itself is not a condemnation of the man, obviously, for on the whole I've little use for them. But the fact that we were such a tight and inbred circle surely meant I'd have come across him somewhere in my youth, so that if he were, well, it would be just be surprising if he were. Impoverished pureblood? Maybe. But at least there was one good thing to be said for it - he's nowhere to be found on my family tree, which means we share no blood. Petty thought? Perhaps. James and I are distantly related somehow, I forget just how. I'd have to consult the tree. Luckily Remus is a happy halfblood, so our conjoining is not in any way incestuous. Nuff said about that then.

I turned eleven on March 21, 1970. I'll never forget that day. I'd been looking forward to it for a very long time. I knew, of course, that turning eleven meant that the following fall I was now eligible to be sent to Hogwarts, and how I sincerely yearned for that, for myriad reasons. It was almost a first coming of age, even before becoming a teenager or hitting puberty or any other such milestone. The owl from the school duly arrived, with my permission to enter the hallowed halls, and I was simply elated. I felt sure that there would be a grand celebration held that day at #12 Grimmauld Place, both to celebrate my birth and to celebrate my acceptance into the wizarding school.

That was my fantasy. Here was the reality.

I was called into my parents' presence, there in the front parlour. An expected event, after all. It's the room where they spent their time within Grimmauld, the room I did my best to avoid. I had been happily playing with Regulus. We'd had breakfast together - a rare treat indeed - and were assembling our mock wizarding armies for a mock wizard battle, practicing the names of the spells I had learned, although could not yet do, from the books I devoured, and which I had tried to teach to Reg, in the time that I was allotted. When I walked into the parlour, all I could see was Walburga, Orion seeming to recede into the very woodwork, blending in with the background veritably. Walburga and that damnable tapestry, there upon the wall. Hideous thing, really.

I should have been more suspicious, more aware that something was not right. I'd not seen Numa at all that day, which was in and of itself unusual. But I'd been too busy, too happy to be with my brother, to look a gift horse in the mouth. And I can be forgiven that, I think, considering my youth. I supposed she was waiting to give me my gift - she never forgot my birthday, nor Christmas, nor any other holiday - until after my parents had presented me with whatever they were to give. What that might be I could not imagine.

"Sirius," my mother greeted me in her usual inimitably uptight and cold manner (an outsider would have found it hard to believe we were actually more than passing strangers from her tone), "today you turn eleven. You've been accepted at Hogwarts (I could not keep from smiling at that, of course, my heart simply full to bursting with the excitement of going to school, as well as leaving this dreary place). Therefore it has been decided that, since you are no longer a child, you no longer need a nanny. From now on, you shall take care of yourself. Stay out of trouble, or you will learn the consequences of your actions, boy. You may go." And she waved a hand in dismissal, as if I were no better in her estimation than one of the house elves.

I stood there a moment in stunned disbelief. "W-what will Numa do?" I asked, giving her a confused look. "Will she work in the kitchen then?" That wouldn't be so bad, obviously. She'd still be there for me, and I did spend a lot of time there.

But that illusion was shattered a moment later. "No, she will not!" Walburga snapped. "She's gone. You don't need her, Sirius. Now, go... and send Regulus in to me..." She raised her head imperiously, fixing me with her dark eyes. We faced down one another for a whole ten seconds maybe, before she began to smile. I'll never forget that smile - the cruelty it held, and the distinct pleasure at the same time. I couldn't stare her down. Not then. I was far too young and inexperienced - and at that moment I hated her with a hatred that was so very physical. So I did what the young and the helpless do at times like these - I ran.

I ran to the kitchen - she wasn't there. I ran about the house, searching all the rooms, certain this was simply a joke on my mother's part, albeit one in very bad taste, and that Numa was hiding somewhere there (although if I'd been thinking more clearly, I'd have realized that she would never participated in such a thing). That hideous creature Kreacher was watching me, and smirking most openly, his grin matching that of his mistress to perfection. I paid him no need, made my way back to the kitchen again. The other house elves were sympathetic, but all they could tell me was that Numa had been given an item of clothing that morning and sent on her way.

Happy fucking birthday, Sirius.

I ran to my room and cried my eyes out. Cried until I threw up. Only later did I come to realize that Regulus had been in on it; he'd kept me distracted so I wouldn't notice her absence right away. And from that day on our estrangement was almost complete - the last step would be taken later, upon my entrance to Hogwarts.

At the age of eleven, I left my childhood behind, and decided that from then on I would be a man, and I wouldn't care about or need anyone ever again.

Of course that didn't last forever. Shush, Remus, I know you're reading over my shoulder. I can feel your hot breath on my neck, of course. But at that time it felt like I was totally alone in the world. What? Right now? Of course I'm not crying, don't be silly. Yes, love, I'm coming.

More later.