Prongs,
I can’t come this summer. My parents have gone even crazier than usual and they won’t let me leave. I would just sneak out, but they took my wand (long story) so I can’t.
I’ll fill you in on the train in a few weeks.
Say ‘hi’ to Moony and Wormtail for me,
Padfoot
Sirius dropped his quill on the desk and capped the ink bottle. He shook the letter around in the air for a moment to make the ink dry faster, then folded it up and sealed it.
He tied the letter to James’ owl’s leg and it took off, flying out the open window and off into the darkness of the night.
Sirius slid the window closed and flopped back on his bed, picking up his copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, flicking through it to find his place.
His stomach growled loudly and he pressed a hand to it. Stop it, he silently warned. Then he went back to his book.
“Double Eight Loop: A Keeper defence, usually employed against penalty takers, whereby the Keeper swerves around all three goal hoops at high speed to block the Quaffle.”
THUMP. His father must be home.
Sirius marked the page, setting the book aside, and sat up straighter. Very faintly, he could hear the sound of his father yelling, throwing something.
Sirius shivered and drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. Orion sounded angry.
His stomach rumbled again, louder this time. Stop it. You’re not getting fed. Not after…after everything.
Orion loomed over his son, his dark eyes burning with fury. Sirius stood defiantly in the middle of the living room, refusing to look away from his father’s livid gaze.
“You no good little traitor,” his father spat, taking a step forward, closing the gap between him and Sirius to only a foot. “How dare you even speak to that muggle-loving scum?”
Before he could retort, a fist came from nowhere and struck the side of his face, knocking him to the floor. He blinked until the black spots cleared from his vision and stood.
“Bad enough you were sorted into Gryffindor, with all the Mudblood filth.” Another punch, this time to his mouth, and Sirius felt his lip split, felt the warm blood flow down his chin and drip onto his shirt.
“Anything’s better than Slytherin,” he snapped, regaining his balance.
“How dare you?!” his father roared, shoving Sirius to the floor.
Before he could stand, there was a sharp kick to his ribs and he gasped in pain.
“You’re so weak,” his father taunted. “Pathetic.”
Sirius, rose shakily, a hand protecting his side. Orion was baiting him, he knew, waiting for an excuse to really hurt him. Sirius wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He remained silent.
“You ruin everything,” his father continued. “You’ve soiled the name of ‘Black’ with your treachery.”
Sirius glared daggers at Orion, but still refused to speak. If anything, he wished his name wasn’t Black; that he could refuse to be affiliated with this family.
“You’re a burden to your teachers. So stupid…” his father shook his head.
Sirius almost laughed. He was one of the top students of his year, with almost perfect marks in every class.
“Don’t you smirk at me, you ungrateful son of a bitch!” Orion bellowed, hitting him again.
Sirius calmly picked himself up and dusted off his robes. He wouldn’t let his father know how much his body ached already.
“You even drag down your Quidditch team,” his father said, his eyes glinting with malice. “Lost the cup last year because you let in too many goals, didn't you?”
Sirius froze, the fierce look he had been giving his father dying for just a moment. Orion was right and he sensed weakness.
“You’re much too slow to be a keeper. Too heavy to fly fast. You’re weighing the team down, literally.” Orion laughed, a wrathful sound rather than one of mirth.
His father wasn’t right, was he? It couldn’t be…
“You know I’m right, I can see it,” Orion said, laughing again. “You’re a failure, Sirius, and you deserve to be punished.”
And Sirius couldn’t argue with him.
Orion had beaten him, left him lying on the dusty rug of the living room blinking blood from his eyes.
When he had summoned the energy, Sirius had hauled himself up to his room, where despite his pain, he denied himself the luxury of collapsing onto his bed and giving in to unconsciousness.
Instead, he stood in front of the mirror and thought. He grimaced at the purple bruises coloring the side of his face, but then put that aside.
He stared instead at his stomach, which somehow was much larger than he had thought. His arms, which used to be well-muscled, were now just gross. His father had been right. He was much too fat.
Now, Sirius got off his bed and went to stand in front of the mirror. He scrutinized his appearance very carefully.
As far as he could tell, nothing had changed. The bruises were faded and yellowing, but excluding that, he looked exactly the same as he had five days ago when he had first stood in front of the mirror, horrified by what he saw.
He had hardly eaten since then, mostly out of fear of what his father would say. He didn’t want another fight. His body still ached from the last time. So Sirius only ate when Regulus managed to snitch some food to give him in his room, where he was being forced to spend the remainder of his summer holiday. Not that it mattered.
The whole fight had been about going to stay with James. Since he couldn’t do that, he really had no inclination to leave his room.
It was better, in fact, that he was up here, because his parents forgot about him. After he had had a few shots of firewhiskey, his father couldn’t remember that he had locked Sirius in his room. He only knew that he wasn’t around to torture. That was fine with Sirius.
It had never been as bad before as it had been the last time. It was different, this time, somehow.
Sirius didn’t care about being beaten over being a Gryffindor, over not hating muggles, because he knew he was right. He was doing the right thing, and by facing his father, he knew he was a true Gryffindor: brave. He felt like he could fight back; he was right, and he didn’t have to take this.
It was an entirely different matter when he knew his father was right. When he knew that he deserved to be punished for what he had done, when things really were his fault. Then he had to just take it.
When that happened, he wasn’t a courageous Gryffindor. He was a fat screw-up who was too weak to fight back.
Secrets Are Walls That Keep You Alone by procrastin8or951
Story Notes:
Warning: Contains eating disorders, abuse, violence, depression, minor language, mention of drugs.
Chapter Endnotes: Please keep in mind that Sirius isn't actually fat. He just thinks he is. It's all about perception.