Work Text:
Sirius had wandered up to the top floor. Merlin, he could never figure out where things were in Potter Manor. Effie and Monty were hosting a party and it had gotten far too loud for Sirius, who would usually be drinking with his friends away from all the adults. He had been until now, having narrowly avoided being caught under the mistletoe with an adorably tipsy Remus, which would have been fun if it weren't for his anxiety fucking him over today.
For Sirius, the problem of the day was one that he hadn't had in a while, which he liked to think James's parents would be proud of. But today, Sirius had a nagging fear that maybe he didn't belong in the Potters' household, and maybe James's parents were just putting up with him and he was doing more harm than good. So, although he'd kill for another shot of firewhiskey, he just didn't feel like he'd done anything to deserve being where he was. He slowly opened one of the doors down the corridor, hoping that no one else had opted out of the party and decided to come up here too.
He stepped inside, scanning the room for any sign of anyone. It was a gorgeous room – not at all like the rooms back in Grimmauld Place. It was a larger room than Sirius had anticipated, and it had infinitely more brightness and warmth than Sirius's house did. The walls were painted a pale red with a skirting board of a deeper, richer red. The walls were decorated with dark oak shelves and beautiful landscape paintings, which Sirius assumed had been bought from muggles, as they didn't move at all. There were pillars with plants placed on top of them set against the walls of the room, two on each side and a fireplace at the far end of the room. The mantelpiece above held pictures of James and his parents. There was a dark brown sofa and two similar, cushioned benches on the right side of the room.
The worst and the best part of the room was the piano that sat in the middle. It was a proper piano, and looked to be made from the finest dark oak. Sirius paused, staring at it.
He closed the door behind him and took another step towards the piano. He was not scared of it. He wasn't. It was a piano. There was nothing to be scared of.
He took a deep breath and walked over to the piano, sitting on the piano stool. He shifted slightly, getting himself into the correct position and carefully placing his fingers on the keys. He tried to ignore the fact that the stool was at the incorrect height. He stared down at his hands, hearing his father drilling the correct posture into him. He stood up and then knelt down, trying desperately to ignore the sensation of his father standing behind him as he raised the height of the stool.
“Hurry up, Sirius.”
“Yes, sir.” Sirius whispered under his breath, relieved as some of the stress disappeared. He sat back down, breathing a quiet sigh of relief as his posture was now correct. He could feel his mother digging her thumb into his spine to make him sit up straight.
“You're a Black, Sirius. Act like it. Slouching makes you look poor. We can leave you on the streets if that’s what you want to look like.”
“Yes, mother.” Sirius slowly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His throat felt dry. He was now beginning to wish he’d just stayed downstairs with his friends. He took a deep breath and began to play a piece his father had taught him when he was nine. The piano was tuned perfectly. Mother would be impressed. Sirius drew in a shaky breath.
“Relax, Sirius.”
Yes, father. Sirius's whole body was tense but he forced his shoulders to relax, chewing on the inside of his cheek and bouncing the leg he wasn’t using to press the pedals.
“Stop fidgeting, Sirius.”
Sorry, mother. He stilled the bouncing of his leg and bit down on his tongue instead. His mother never noticed when he bit his tongue to ease his stress. He played the wrong note and flinched.
“You aren’t even trying.” I am, father, I’m trying. “It’s not that difficult. Play the correct notes.” Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Sirius took a deep breath that came out shakier than he thought it would. Shit, his eyes were watering.
“If you start crying, Sirius, I’ll give you something to cry about.” Yes, ma'am. Sirius needed to stop playing. He needed to take a fucking minute to breathe. He could feel the phantom stinging of lacero if he dared to stop playing. He could feel the phantom ache of the slashes against his knuckles or his chest or his back. He could hear his father's bitter, silent disappointment and his mother’s enraged disapproval. Sirius clenched his jaw. There wasn’t much left of the piece. He could do this. He could make it through just one piece. It wasn’t that bloody difficult.
“Sirius, give me your arm.” Sirius felt nauseous. He knew he was speeding up; he could feel and hear it. He just wanted to get this over and done with. He could hear his mother demanding that his father punished him. He could feel the cigarette burns on his collarbone. Three dots, in the shape of Orion's belt. “Toujour pur, Sirius.”
Sirius played the final note. He immediately took his hands off of the piano and stood up. He was breathing harder than he had realised. He took deep breaths, rubbing his hands over his face. He turned back to the piano, staring at it. He could do this. He could do this without panicking. Sirius glanced at the door. A small, weak, part of him wanted to go and find James. James would know just what to say. They’d joke around and bicker and then Sirius wouldn’t have to think about everything he associated with playing the piano. Sirius shook the thought out of his head and sat back down on the piano stool. He lifted his head high straightening his posture until it hurt.
“Shut up,” He muttered, preemptively silencing the fear. Sirius glanced at the music on the piano. He didn’t know what the piece of music was, but he could read it. He began to play again, making himself relax and trying to ignore his rapid train of thought. It was a beautiful piece of music. Sirius wasn’t doing it justice, could never do it justice, but his fingers still glided over the keys. He could still hear his mother and father, but they felt less present now that he’d already pushed through one piece.
Sirius flinched as someone started playing the piano with him, playing an octave higher than he was. They were leant over him. Sirius stopped playing abruptly and turned slightly to see who it was. It was James. Sirius stared at him.
“No, don’t stop playing,” James whined, sounding more drunk than he had before Sirius had come upstairs.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” Sirius didn’t want to keep playing, he needed to figure out where James had come from.
“We just came in. Moony came upstairs, we followed him, and we heard you playing.” We? Moony? Sirius turned around fully. Remus, Peter, and Marlene were standing in the doorway. Well, standing was a very generous word for it. Peter and Remus were leant almost fully against the door, and Marlene looked like she was about to fall flat on her face. Sirius stood and walked over to her, and she slumped into Sirius's arms as he attempted to help her over to the sofa.
“Bloody hell, how much has she had? Didn't Effie say she was keeping an eye on us tonight?” Sirius asked.
Peter grinned, slightly giddy, “She's been sneaking drinks all evening. Poor sod's wasted.”
“Stay there,” Sirius told her, watching Marls as she slumped on the sofa, looking dazed. He got a hum in response. Sirius took it as an agreement. He picked at his bottom lip. Hearing his mother scold him for picking at his lips, he immediately stopped. He felt a firm hand on his shoulder.
“C’mon. Play the piano with me. I’m sure Remus and Pete will get a kick out of it.” James was talking to him. Sirius sighed quietly. If only it was that easy.
“No, Moony'll just give us shit for being rich, cultured wankers,” Sirius joked, but walked back over to the piano and sat down, looking at the sheet music.
“That I will, love,” Remus slurred, sitting on the sofa next to Marlene's slumped form.
Sirius shook his head, “The same as before?” He turned to look at James, who grinned, looking delighted.
Sirius sat on the stool as James pulled up another to sit on his right, “Ready?” He heard James murmur. He nodded.
They began to play. The harmony they had going was honestly beautiful, and the piece itself was nothing like the things Sirius was taught as a child. It was emotional and wistful, like the person who wrote it was longing for something they couldn't have. Sirius could feel the music. It wasn't like all those other times where he had to concentrate on playing every single note perfectly, with his mother behind him, her sharp nails digging into his shoulder whenever he made a mistake and leaving red marks for days after. He could remember those moments viscerally. He could still hear her in his head, whenever he played.
“You're a fucking disgrace.”
“Don't slouch, Sirius, I taught you better.”
“You are a pure-blood, Sirius, act like it.”
Sirius felt a drop of wetness on his cheek. He felt dizzy, like his centre of gravity had suddenly shifted and he was left reeling, unstable and with no sense of what was happening. He briefly acknowledged that his hands had dropped from the piano keys, and that his breathing was heavier than usual.
“-rius?”
He could feel his mother's looming presence behind him, one hand on the back of his neck and one hand holding her wand against his side for when he inevitably messed up like he always did-
“Sirius. Mate, can you hear me? Shit, Peter get mum-”
“Sirius, love-?”
He was spiralling. He could feel himself spiralling. He couldn't- He couldn't hear what was being said, and even if he could he was sure he wouldn't be able to understand it.
“Sirius, darling-‘
“Sirius, mum's here, you're okay-”
Was he even breathing? He couldn’t tell. He could hear everyone around him but their voices were muffled. He felt like he was underwater. He could feel his hands shaking in his lap, but he couldn't process what was happening, couldn't even answer when he heard his name being called.
There were hands on him, fingers brushing his hair from his face and attempting to pull him out of the mental fog he was stuck in.
It was Effie, he could tell. He could smell her perfume. Then, another pair of arms joined in, almost hurting with how hard they held him.
And the Sirius realized, oh, they were trying to talk to him. He tried to lift his head to look around, see who it was. He should be reassuring them, telling everyone that he was okay, that it wasn't something they should be worrying about, that he wasn't worth their time- He didn't want to worry his friends.
He could see Remus's shoulder in front of him, James's hand in his, Peter's hair, Marlene's jewellery. He could hear Effie's voice, and was that Lily's too? He didn't know. He couldn't understand.
He should be strong enough to at least keep himself upright, but he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care, so he sunk into the hold. It was too comforting to pass up.
He could feel James tense up at his sudden movement, accommodating for his weight to make sure that he wouldn't just collapse onto the floor. Sirius's breath hitched and he let out in an involuntary sob when he heard the worried voices increase in volume as he sunk to the floor.
They were all worried. He didn't want to worry them. He would be fine- was fine. He distantly heard his friends fret as he started to cry, and it only made it more difficult to stop.
He didn't deserve their kindness. He'd had half the mind to break up with Remus months ago because of shit like this, just so that his boyfriend didn't have to deal with his horrible sob-story of a childhood, and horrible coping mechanisms, and horrible self-worth issues, but he couldn't leave Remus, even if he was too good for Sirius. Remus cared so much, and Sirius knew why, he just sometimes found it hard to remember.
He sat there for a while, the silence only broken by his muffled sobs. His mind felt a little clearer now, and he could actually think without feeling nauseous.
Effie was kneeling in front of him, and that motherly worry was clear on her face. Sirius shrunk back under her gaze, the discomfort was coming back full force, now that he could see straight.
“Sirius, darling, can you hear me?” Effie smiled sadly, like he was a lost dog she'd brought in from the cold.
Sirius cleared his throat, he felt like he hadn't used his voice in weeks, “Sorry Mrs Potter-”
She shook her head, “Now, now, none of that love. It's Effie.”
Sirius bit his lip, “Sorry, Effie.”
“Don't apologise love, I know you struggle with this kind of thing some days,” She stroked his hair, and that was when he remembered everyone else was still there, sitting patiently and waiting for him to come back to reality.
Well, he was definitely back to reality now. He had crash landed back to reality head fucking first.
“Fuck,” Sirius hissed, holding his head.
“Sirius, mate, you with us?” James asked quietly.
Sirius looked up. James, Remus, Peter, Marlene, Lily and Effie were looking at him expectantly.
He locked eyes with Lily, “Alright Evans?” Sirius tried for a smile, hoping to disperse some of the tension.
Lily grinned, “Just fine Black.”
He couldn't help but flinch at the use of his last name, which was of course noticed by everyone, and caused his heart rate to pick up again.
Lily gave an apologetic smile, “I'm good, Sirius.”
“That's good Lils, really good,” He returned her smile and shook his head, and bloody hell that was a mistake, because Merlin his head hurt.
“Woah there, love, is it your head?” Remus. Sweet, kind, amazing Remus placed a careful hand on top of his.
He attempted a half-hearted nod again in answer, “I think I wanna go downstairs, piano's freaking me out,” He murmured, all too aware of how his words most likely made no sense.
Effie softly patted his shoulder and got to her feet, “You lot have him sorted? I'm so sorry love, I would stay but Monty's waiting for me to make a toast downstairs.”
“S'alright mum, we've got him,” James held out his hand for Sirius to take.
It was only after Effie gave Sirius a smile and shut the door behind her that James added, “So, you wanna raid the pantry for firewhiskey or am I gonna have to take Wormy with me?”
Sirius grinned at Peter's affronted expression and got to his feet like the rest of them, “Yeah, I could use a drink.”
James smirked, “Well then, lets go, fellow marauders.”