Chapter Text
Blood dripped from every limb of his cumbersome body as he dragged himself through black manor. Kreacher scurried ahead of him, tensely checking around corners. "Hurry, hurry, please," the house elf pleaded.
Sirius knew Kreacher was just trying to protect him but he couldn't move any faster than he already was. His already spinning mind became overwhelmed with rage. For years he was burned, bruised, and beaten. He was cut and screamed at, his mind tormented day and night. And now, Kreacher dared to rush him as he dragged his bloodied and mutilated body down the creaking floors of black manor.
His head heart but his heart hurt tenfold. How could someone look at a child and hurt them the way he had been hurt? Why would someone want to hurt a child the way they had hurt him as a kid? He sobbed into his hand as Kreacher led him into the library.
"Now, don't cry," Kreacher's big brown eyes looked up at him. "We haven't much time, master Sirius," he shut the enormous wooden doors. "Now you must listen carefully," Kreacher locked the door before turning to him. "The dark lord he- he has a plan!" he panted, speaking as quickly as he could. "He's put pieces of himself into seven objects to immortalize his soul!" The elf sobbed.
Sirius had never seen Kreacher lose his composure. The elf began to pace the room, wringing his large ears. "I haven't a clue where they are except for one, it's hidden amidst a cave, I've-I've made a map for you as I was able to remember the location-" the sound of footsteps storming down the hall interrupted them.
Kreacher nearly jumped out of his skin before guiding Sirius to the fireplace. He slipped a piece of folded parchment into Sirius' hand before giving him a final shove. "Now please, go!" He whispered. Sirius sobbed as he hugged the elf one last time before grabbing a handful of floo powder and throwing it into the fireplace before quickly vanishing into it.
Sirius let out a quiet sob as he sat up. He had the same dream at least once a week yet it affected him in the same manner as it had nearly a year ago. He bit his fist to muffle the sobs that reverberated through his body. He quickly cast a silencing charm, trying his best to regain his composure.
He saw it in flashes over and over again. Voldemort's face, the images Walburga made him see, the blood, all of it. He couldn't hide from it. It would haunt him down to his last breath. Awake or asleep, it tormented every crevice of his mind, corrupting his everyday thoughts and memories.
When he reattained some sense of control, he crawled out of his bed before padding across the room to Remus' bed. "Moony?" He whispered into the darkness. "Mhm?" He mumbled, looking up at him with sleep-ridden eyes and Sirius nearly melted. It took everything in the boy not to reach down and brush the fine hair out of Remus' eyes. "Can I lie with you? I had a nightmare,"
Remus didn't reply, he adjusted himself and pulled back the blanket, allowing room for Sirius to join him. The older boy climbed into bed next to him, reveling in the warmth he provided in the cold night. Sirius allowed himself to indulge, just this once, as he snuggled closer to Remus, inhaling the scent of the other.
The moonlight filtered through the curtains of the window and washed across Remus' face in a way that made him look ethereal. The want that filled Sirius was enough to make him want to cry all over again.
Remus was beautiful, always had been. He was high cheekbones, sharp eyebrows, and jagged scars. He was physically attractive, sure, but Sirius had loved his heart for years. He would love every piece of his soul if Remus would let him and at the end of the day that was what it boiled down to. Would Remus let him if he asked? Could Remus look at this broken boy and think he was worth loving back? Was it worth it to know?
Was it better to speak or to die?