Read part two here: illusions
Pairing: Sirius Black x Potter Reader (brother's best friend)
Word count: 3.3k+
CW: Mentions/alludes to abuse, blood, angst
A/N: So it's been a bit.. I'm on summer break from uni and found the will to write once more. I'm rusty so I hope this is still enjoyable. Let me know if you're interest for a part 2 I love you all! Hope to publish some more drafts/work soon<3 (also lmk if there's any grammar errors or anything!!)
Something felt different.
The days merged together, hours spent in the library alongside Regulus, cramming for your exams, weekdays lounging lazily, novel in hand. Spring had come and gone, leaving a bittersweet air amongst the students, not yet ready for the summer holiday to arrive. Yet there was an eagerness, an excitement bubbling as you packed the remainder of your clothes into your trunk. It was the same as any other year at Hogwarts, yet something told you this was the start of a new beginning.
Your eyes scan the crowded platform as you search for your brother. Regulus stands beside you, reluctantly looking around as well. You spot him first, whispering something in Lily’s ear, James kisses her cheek as she begins to walk away. Remus, Peter, and Sirius stand behind him, the three of them chatting casually as they wait to board the Hogwarts Express. You’re only a few feet away when James spots the two of you.
Scuffling the top of your head, you scowl up at him.
“Hey! Look who finally slithered in.” He grins.
“It’s never going to be funny James, let it go.” Your voice draws the attention of the other three boys, heads turning in unison. You wave, a polite smile painted on your face, slightly flustered at the attention. Turning your attention back to James, your smile stretches, growing more genuine.
“Missed you.” It’d been a few days since you’d last seen him. He was always busy, between Lily, quidditch, pranks, nights with Moony, his schedule always seemed to clash with yours. It never bothered you much, you weren’t naive, it was best not to be seen with him anyways. Your brother had never been popular amongst your housemates, it wasn’t ideal to remind them that he was blood. However, the past few days had worn you down, the stress had eaten into your sleep, and the looming hope of summer break left you unfamiliarly home sick.
James made a face but you didn’t miss the twitch in his lips.
“Yeah, yeah, I missed you too I guess.”
Your arm grows heavy, palm burning at the weight of your trunk, you shift the case to your other hand when an arm reaches out. Pulling it away from you, Regulus holds both his and your belongings in his hands.
“Come on, let’s look for an empty compartment.”
Ignoring the heavy stare of his brother, he lugs up the train steps, disappearing without another word.
You could feel your own brother watching you closely, eyes lingering at your now empty hands.
Your face grows warm at the silent implication, tipping your chin, you mutter a quick, “see you soon” before following after Regulus.
The journey had felt abnormally long. You’d read to pass the time, snacking on chocolate frogs from the trolley, taking breaks to gaze out the window, watching the world pass before you. It’d been quiet, save for the distant noise of fellow students walking up and down the aisles. You knew Regulus was thinking about Sirius, you knew he didn’t want, couldn’t, talk about his brother just yet.
It was only a couple months ago, a few days before Christmas, when Sirius showed up on your doorstep. You’d been in your room, wrapping gifts for your friends when you’d heard James open the door. You watched from the stairs as your parents swarmed around Sirius, silent as you listened to the shaky “thank you Mrs. Potter” leave his lips as your mom muttered healing spells over his body.
You didn’t come down until everyone had gone to bed, Sirius left on the couch, eyes empty as he stared at the ceiling. You were never close to any of James’ friends, never quite fit in, yet you found yourself tiptoeing down the steps of the stairs, cautiously sitting beside him. You weren’t sure what to say, weren’t sure what you could say, so you sat there wordlessly, hoping your presence said enough. That it was going to be okay, that he had a place to stay, people who cared for him, that he wasn’t alone.
You’d left at sunrise, when his breathing evened, and you never spoke of that night again.
A shameful part of you wishes Regulus could have seen his brother like that, so unsure and lost, the opposite of the loud, rebellious character he painted himself to be. Maybe then his anger, his feelings of betrayal, would lose some of its fire.
You tried, in your own ways, to communicate this with him but it was hopeless. You learned to give it time, to allow your friend to reach out when he was ready.
But it hurt your heart to see him like this, knowing there was nothing you could do.
“You better write to me, yeah?” You say to him, afraid to see him go as you part ways, “Or else I’ll think you're dead, have the ministry in a frenzy about it.” You try to joke but it comes out flat, a bit too serious, as you think of Regulus staying with his family for so long. He holds your shoulders, soothing the tension away.
“I’ll do my best, but don’t send the ministry. I don’t want Lucius around me any more than necessary, even in death.”
His grin eases the pit in your stomach, your hands gripping the back of his jumper as you hug goodbye. It would never become easier.
It was an unspoken agreement that Sirius would be staying at the Potter mansion. Yet the turmoil between wariness and giddiness hindered you from lingering on that thought. Sirius always seemed larger than life in a way you could not explain. James was too, but it was different. He was a light to your family, the nonstop chatter and care oozing out of him. A heart of gold. But Sirius, he was made up of something you couldn’t place. He was loyal, even to you, a slytherin. He believed you were good, you were a Potter after all. But something about his gaze, caught on you and Regulus, makes you believe he isn’t so sure anymore. He never discusses his younger brother, never asks questions, but there were days you could feel the heat of his eyes as he watches you and Regulus talk.
You’re standing alone, watching Regulus walk away, before you close your eyes to listen for the loudest group. Recognizing familiar voices, you begin your way across the sea of bodies, lugging your trunk behind you. You catch the tail end of a joke before you’re noticed by the group.
“Have fun on the train did you?” Sirius’ voice rings out, and it’s a beat too late when you realize it was directed to you.
James looks up, disgust clouding his features, “Cut it out Padfoot, I don’t want that image in my head.”
A flush crawls up your spine, your face contorted in an expression mixed between irritation and confusion.
“Excuse me?” you bite out.
James’ head spins to you, surprised at your tone, you who was always calm and collected, even in anger. He begins to look oddly wary, switching his gaze to both you and Sirius.
You’re not sure where the accusation comes from, nor why Sirius is bringing it up now, as Remus and Peter shift awkwardly beside the three of you. He opens his mouth to say something else, something you know that was meant to upset you, but it’s cut short when he chances a look at your brother. Something in his eyes seems to cool, and he backs down, nothing but a “forget it” being muttered and lost within the busying platform.
The excitement you’d had to be home, evaporates. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you hear the muffled voices of Sirius and James in the room across, unpacking each of their trunks. You’d belatedly realized Sirius must have been thinking of Regulus when he’d brashly asked you about the train ride. You wanted to walk over and explain that the relationship you had with his brother was promptly none of his business, and if he was so eager to know, the two of you were simply friends, like it had been for the past few years if he ever cared to notice. But a part of you, shamefully didn’t want to admit that. After his temper, you wanted him to sit and stew on the thought of you and Regulus being something more. The betrayal would be understandable to a certain extent, you’d seen him at his most vulnerable and raw, arriving to your house with no place to go, yet you fancy his younger brother who he believes, has abandoned him as well. The short conversation made your head ache, the underlying meanings behind each exchange made you overwhelmed. How had it gotten to this point so quickly?
Sighing, you lazily push yourself off the bed. Dread fills your stomach, but your mother had always taught you to be the bigger person, and the idea of sitting across from Sirius at dinner, in a tense atmosphere left you uneasy. The doorknob feels cold in your hands, as you push open the door, only a few steps away from James’. Their voices sounded clearer, the absence of the extra layer of wood now unveiling their murmurs.
“It’s not happening end of story,” You recognize Sirius say, “if anything we’re even, but even that’s a stretch and you know it.”
“Padfoot,” your brother calls out softly, he sounds tired, as if the argument has been nothing but circles, “just say you’re sorry, you don’t even have to mean it. It was a wanker move and you know it.”
“I barely even said anything. If she can’t handle an innocent question, that’s not my fault.”
Your throat dries, as you realize they’re talking about you.
The floor creeks as you listen to one of them pace, “Listen, if it bothers you so much why don’t you ask her if she cares. It probably flew over her head, she’s snogging my brother, she’s obviously not the brightest.”
The footfalls come to an abrupt stop. You hear the background of James’ tone grow louder as Sirius backtracks, the sound of him repeatedly saying he didn’t mean to say that about his sister. But you didn’t stick around to hear the rest, simply and quietly, turning around and retracing your steps.
In the quitness of your room, you allowed yourself a moment to understand the gravity of what you’d heard. It’d been apparent they had been talking about what Sirius had said to you for some time, you wondered what other things Sirius has said about you, you wondered if this was an often occurrence and the snide remark at the platform had simply been a slip up. You’d always been the subject of passing comments, you’d grown thick skin since arriving at hogwarts and being sent to slytherin rather gryffindor. But the idea of Sirius, someone who’d spent so long adjacent to you, someone who’s now living across from you because your family took him in, became one of the many to question your character, your intelligence, your loyalty, it made your skin crawl. Because what did it mean when someone who’s spent so much time near you says such a thing?
The revelation of what he’d said under the guise no one but James would hear, it hit you that you were nothing but an extension of James. He had apologized for saying that about James’ sister. Not your name, not an apology for misspeaking, just a meek sorry for implying you were dimwitted due to the relation. Because you’re not anything to him.
The mere idea of it brought an ache to your chest. You’d always known you didn’t mean much to any of them, Remus, Peter, and Sirius, but you’d hoped your presence and small conversations made a more lasting impact. That through these years, they would’ve seen who you were, or at least an idea of you, and maybe found you worthwhile, not simply their friend’s sister but yourself. Secretly, you’d hoped they’d see you as a friend, the closeness of the four made you envious, especially during the holidays. You’d never felt a bond to anyone quite as much as Regulus, yet he was nearly impossible to reach when away from Hogwarts. And you knew nothing good could possibly come from a Potter owl leaving a letter, especially not after what happened with Sirius. But the idea of being a fifth addition slowly dwindled year after year, and though you’ve known them for so long, in a way, they were nothing more than strangers.
Maybe what Sirius had said was simply a wake up call, a reminder not to delude yourself into believing these are your friends, no matter how much close you feel to them. The stories James excitedly shares you, the small details and characteristics about each of them he’d write during his first year when you were still at home, these were nothing but passing information you were told. These were people you knew through James, if you hadn’t been related, you would know nothing about them, and more importantly, they would never know you. It was difficult to admit, you enjoyed their presence more than they enjoyed yours.
A knock on your door interrupts your spiraling, and in a hoarse voice you call out, “Come in.”
A familiar head of black hair pokes in, sharp cheekbones and a stubborn set jaw follow. Standing in the doorway, Sirius threads his hands together, unsure how to approach. He eyes you, you haven’t changed out of your uniform yet, your trunk half haphazardly thrown onto your floor. He’d never fully seen your room before, never quite close enough to you to see more than the small corner that peeked out when you opened the door so many summers ago when he and James would call you down for dinner. It’d felt like yesterday, he’d had a growth spurt and suddenly you were barely reaching his shoulder. You were still in an awkward phase, and you looked up to him as if he’d hung the moon and stars for you. He hadn’t realized it at first, but the constant teasing from James and Remus, and the way you lingered in the living room during his visits, got old really quick. He hadn’t had the heart to say anything to you, so he let his actions tell it all. You hadn’t been the only girl to notice his change in appearance that year, and he found himself a regular customer at Madam Puddifoot’s. And slowly, like he’d planned, you stopped making conversation first, and your door stayed closed on his visits. It’d been subtle, he hadn’t recognized it at first but he knew you’re interest had been smothered, and James’ side comments of his dating life certainly played a role, diminishing any hope you’d held out.
He hadn’t pursued these dates with the sole purpose of letting you down gently, but it had been an added benefit, at the time. Sirius doesn’t remember when it had happened, when you’d grown up and became this quiet, bright, witch. His silent interest in you grew rapidly over the years, building up and overflowing. The irony was not loss to him, his mind wandering over the girl he’d inadvertently shut down just a few years prior, and at first he believed it to be guilt, a small pit of regret for closing off a friendship that could’ve bloomed, for not having the guts to tell you the truth. He doesn’t recall when his interest had started, when suddenly thoughts of you crept into his mind, but he remembers moments, memories of himself curled on the floor of his room in the Black manor, bleeding and broken raw, and his mind would drift to the warmth of your smile, the rare loud laughter across the dining hall he’d only heard because his eyes always found you, no matter how crowded the room was. He’d been in denial, a growing ache spreading as he thought of the wasted chance, the idea that he’d ruined what could’ve been, but everything seemed to flip when you’d begun talking with his brother.
Sirius was always compared to Regulus, the obedient child, the one who was the top of his classes, the slytherin. Shamefully, he’d always felt an inner envy, how simple his life could be if he’d just followed orders, if he could be selfish and cruel enough to turn a blind eye at the ridiculousness of blood purity. But that envy he’d felt back then, it paled in comparison to how he felt now.
He’d been subjected to torment, watching you slowly grow closer to Regulus when he’d known you longer, yet couldn’t even recall your favorite color. It hadn’t been because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t know how to. He wasn’t sure how to casually talk to you again after so many years, it felt as if it was too late. If he’d been kinder, less hot headed and eager in the attention he’d received by his peers during his first years at hogwarts, maybe he would’ve taken the time to befriend you. But he hadn’t and now he paid the price.
Watching Regulus carried your trunk up the stairs of the hogwarts express, as he stood on the platform with your brother, unable to speak a word to you. The growing hate he’d felt in that moment for his younger brother, and the guilt that followed, for allowing his emotions to cloud rationality. Seeing the two of you in the carriage, the familiarity and comfort exuding from Regulus, he couldn’t recall ever seeing him in such a state, but there he was, and it was in result of your company. He could hear Remus asking him a question in the background yet all he could focus on was the two of you.
Standing in front of your room, he wanted to say more than sorry. He wanted to tell you everything, tell you about his anger, his confusion, his resentment for his actions when the two of you were children. But nothing could come out, so he stood there, awkwardly threading and unthreading his hands. He felt like a scolded child, as you stared up at him in anticipation.
“Um, I just… I came because I ought to owe you an apology…” You said nothing, so he continued, “For what I said at the platform… It was sudden and none of my business. I shouldn’t of had that tone with you, so… I’m sorry.” He couldn’t hold your burning stare, his eyes shifting down to his feet. The room fell silent, and when he finally grew the courage to look back up, he found you studying him, your stare scrutinizing in an unfamilar way.
“That’s fine.” Is all you replied with.
But it didn’t feel fine. The air didn’t loosen, and he felt unsure of how to reply. The shortness of your response left him confused, had you meant it? Was he simply overthinking everything? He had the habit of it, a default mindset of believing everyone was upset with him, a result of his childhood. So he shifted on his feet, backtracking out to the hallway, suddenly embarrassed for making a show out of something insignificant to you. “Well, um, I thought i’d apologize anyways, dinner is ready in ten.” His mind felt heavy, thoughts clouding his head, but one stood out amongst the rest, you hadn’t denied being with Regulus.
When the door clicked closed, you were left thinking of the nervous boy who’d been in your room seconds before. The disbelief of him, the nerve of him coming in, acting as if he’d been noble enough, mature enough to apologize and admit his wrongs as if he’d meant it. Had you not heard his conversation with James, you could’ve been fooled, touched that he’d felt the need to mend things, but now it was nothing but insult to injury. He’d been adament just moments before, refusing to apologize, alluding to the idea that you weren’t the “brightest.” Anger seared in your chest, a growing irritation, and as you laid in bed that night, you knew this would be a long summer.
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