The Black Sheep
Title: The Black Sheep
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst--but I swear it had a happy ending!
Disclaimer: All werewolves and/or black dogs are owned by Ms. J.K. Rowling. Lucky.
Word Count: 537
Summary: Sirius is having problems dealing with disownment, and takes it out on the only person who will listen. Remus.
Damn the Black family, Remus thinks. Damn them for hurting their son so much.
There are days when you can’t see the anger in his features. When his black hair covers knitted eyebrows and a sour mouth. And there are days when the Marauders or the full moon can distract him from the pain. But many of the days that Remus spends with Sirius are littered with glares and insults.
He doesn’t mean to, Remus decides. He doesn’t mean to take all of his anger out on his friend. So Remus brushes off the comments Sirius makes to him about being an annoying know-it-all, and tries to forget that he is constantly called boring by his friend. In Remus’ mind, all of these remarks are made lightly, and with a hint of a smile, instead of the acid tone and dagger eyes that are reality.
But, just like all of the Transfiguration spells that Remus burned into his brain the night before, these insults never really leave his thoughts. He lies in bed and turns the comments over in his mind as he listens to Sirius’ quiet snores. He wants to cry and hit his friend because hearing the truth out loud is so much harder then silently knowing it yourself.
The next morning, Remus wakes up late and misses breakfast. Everyone is gone from the dormitory, and he isn’t hungry anyway, so he takes his time getting dressed. Just as he finishes buttoning his shirt, Sirius comes storming in, holding a crumpled letter in one fist.
“Bad news?” Remus asks, nodding to the letter. He can taste the acid in his words.
“Shut it,” Sirius spits out, kicking the nearest trunk a few feet before sitting to seethe on the bed.
“What could they possibly do to you? You’re disowned.” Sirius gives Remus a sharp glance at the last word.
“I didn’t expect any sympathy from you,” he says coldly. “Your family’s just fine with you being different.”
Remus bites his tongue before he says something else, suddenly regretting his anger. Sirius doesn’t notice the subtle understanding on his friends face, and simply turns his angry eyes to the paper in his hand.
He hesitates before uncrumpling it and smoothing the wrinkles out of the parchment on his knee. Remus watches Sirius’ eyes scan over the letter for what must have been the hundredth time. Suddenly Sirius lets out a straggled cry and rips the note into pieces before holding his head in his hands.
Remus approaches Sirius slowly, his anger being forgotten with each footstep. He places his hand gently on one his friend’s trembling shoulder and gives it a slight squeeze. That tiny bit of pressure makes Sirius jump up from his seat on the bed and pitch his arms around him. He holds Remus between his arms and chest for what seems like hours, making them shake as one with repressed pain. Remus embraces Sirius just as tightly, pressing his cheek against his friend’s head and whispering comforts into the air around them.
He might be a know-it-all, Remus decides. And he might be boring. But he could help Sirius not feel so alone. And that seemed to make up for everything else.