Sirius Black x Metamorphagus Reader - Part 2

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(A/N This took kind of a dark turn...)

You didn't have a face for troublemaking, but all your faces seemed to be troublemakers. Like face you would use if you were a troublemaker, rather than convincing others that you were up to no good. You weren't sure what to make of it, your faces were to manipulate other people, rather than convince yourself. For once in your life you felt like your faces didn't fit. You weren't a troublemaker, your faces were. You spent the next week feeling like two separate people, you yourself and your face. You spent class with a child rather than an innocent. You spent the night with a face you couldn't control, like a monster clawing at its cage.

You stopped changing your faces all together, and the worst part is that no one noticed. They looked at a face they had never seen before and only saw you. They looked at your deception and saw you. They associated the troublemaker, the scared, the dead eyed, the colorless face with you. Your trickery had worked too well, and now there was no way to go back.

You sighed quietly to yourself, your own voice feeling oddly quiet. Your second face had a loud voice, but you couldn't bring yourself to bring it up. In the silver mirror, your face wasn't even recognizable. There were elements here are there that were familiar. A nose from your third face, an eye color from your first face, a widow's peak in your hair from your second face. The list went on and on, you had gotten used to analyzing every part of your face and others. 

On particularly bad days you started to experiment. It turned out you could even edit your own organs. It was very difficult and sensitive work, but that hadn't ever stopped you before. Transfiguration was just as deadly, but that didn't stop it from being taught in the school. So how bad could it be to try it out? Perfect you lungs, your liver, your own individual cells. Creating the perfect human. A liver that can handle any amount of liquor. Even though it was prohibited to drink in Hogwarts, you weren't underage in England. You could spend all night in pubs watching guys slowly get drunk, buying countless numbers of drinks for you as they tried to get you drunk enough to sleep with them. You could even train your lungs to get oxygen through water. The possibilities were endless. 

You relished in the idea. This was what you were looking for. The moment it all clicked. The same feeling of euphoria that you had felt when you had first perfected your faces, the same feeling a junkie chases of their first high. Your addiction was making you better, helping you, it couldn't possibly be bad that way. When you could multiply your cells fast enough to grow an extra few inches of hair every day, to stop your nails growing when they were finally the perfect length. To push your wounds to heal faster. It was only a matter of pushing yourself a little harder. Pumping blood a little faster, pushing your synapses to connect and form ideas. Concentrating a little bit more, skipping a few more classes, spending a few more nights without sleep. You didn't need sleep anymore, you could eat during that time. Break down proteins, make ATP to fuel your cells. Push yourself just a little bit harder. Perfect yourself just a little bit more. Get closer and closer to that high. 

It was on the day that Remus was going to confront you that you collapsed. In your dormitory where no one knew you were. Sitting on your comforter and staring into the mirror. You couldn't see the changes happening within you, but to look right into the eyes that weren't yours was enough motivation to keep you working. Eyes that you couldn't change to be perfect. But the rest of you could be, if you worked hard enough. 

When you passed out, you tumbled from the bed in a heap. You organs kept working, reverting back to their original condition. The dormitory below you heard a light thump against the floor, but paid it little attention. Probably just a students dropping something from a desk. Nothing too important.

Remus couldn't get up to the girl's dormitory, if he got through to the common room in the first place. He couldn't do anything but pace and think about what he was going to say, the perfect words to use to break down the secrets you'd been holding for so long. And eventually he couldn't pace anymore and tried to sleep. He stayed awake with his eyes squeezed tightly shut, listening to the calm breathing of his roommates. He could not understand how he had not seen it before, how none of them had. How many still did not. Even he didn't fully see what was happening. Even the boy he was best friends with who was slowly falling in love with you hadn't realized. 

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