Glass Houses

Chapter thirteen

The next morning when Sirius walked into the training room, targets were set up along the wall. They were scuffed and tattered, with holes in the thick fabric. Looking around, Sirius spotted a table covered with glimmering knifes. Target practice again.

As Sirius walked to James and Peter, he noticed Fenrir standing in the middle of the room. His arms were folded, and he was standing so straight that he could've had a rod stuck to his spine. But most concerning was the dark glower permanently fixed to his face.

"What's up with him?" Sirius whispered to James.

James covered his laugh with a small cough, "I don't think he took his loss yesterday too lightly."

Sirius sniggered, how could he have forgotten? But his amusement was quickly drained when Fenrir stood before them, making the room feel much smaller all of a sudden, like there wasn't enough air.

"Tomorrow's the last day of stage one," he said, "You'll do your last fights then. But today you're learning how to aim." He shot a murderous glare at Moony, who was leaning on the knife table. "Moony will be showing you the right technique, so everyone get a knife."

At first, no one moved.

"Now!" Fenrir roared.

That seemed to drag them out of their stupor as they rushed towards the table, grabbing the knifes quickly.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Marlene muttered.

Sirius rolled his eyes, "I don't think he sleeps."

But James and Marlene were definitely right. Fenrir was never exactly pleasant, but his team's loss yesterday must've affected him more than he wanted to let on, and from the way he was glowering at Moony as he demonstrated how to throw the knife, there was only one person who he blamed.

Sirius watched and listened to Moony's instructions, following as he lifted his arm over his shoulder and threw the knife straight, the silver blur leaving his fingertips and hitting the red centre of the target perfectly. Sirius glanced at James, who was nodding, impressed.

They spread out to the targets, and Sirius tried to remember Moony's stance. He placed his right foot slightly in front of his left, rolling his shoulders and clutching the knife in his hand. Raising his arm, he let go of the knife, and it hit the outer edge of the target before clattering to the ground. Sirius frowned and grabbed another, startling when he felt a hand on his arm.

"You're too tense," Moony said, his voice near Sirius' ear. "Relax."

Sirius swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, "Yeah okay," he said, loosening his shoulders and breathing.

"Good," Moony said, and a shiver ran down Sirius' spine.

The knife flew straight and sunk into the target. Sirius beamed, turning to face Moony, who was smiling.

"Not bad for your second try," he said, smirking as he walked away, leaving Sirius feeling like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

"Nice throw Sirius!" James called from beside him.

Sirius glanced over, seeing James' knifes surrounding the target closely, "You too mate," Sirius said.

"He's only good cause Moony's whispering in his fucking ear," Snape sneered from where he, Zacharias and Evan stood, their knifes mostly on the floor.

Sirius glared at him, "Come over here and say that a bit louder Snivellus."

Snape's eyes snapped to him, and he looked guilty at being heard for a split second before Evan stepped forward.