Lone Wolf | SIRIUS BLACK

Chapter Thirty Nine

|  C U R S E D   L O V E  |

February, 1977

SIRIUS WAS as good as dead. I knew that, I could see it, but I couldn't accept it. I dissolved the fabric of his shirt so it melted away and I could get a better look at the injuries he sported. I regretted that decision immediately.

The wounds inflicted upon his body were horrific. The metallic taste of blood settled on my tongue and flooded my nostrils. His body was shaking restlessly, needing to move away from what was causing him such pain but he couldn't get far from the internal agony. The pain was a disease, spreading all over, to each nerve, muscle, and inch of his being.

"Sirius," I wiped at tears threatening to spill onto him. Salt wouldn't mix well with that amount of blood. "Sirius come on. You have to stay with me."

What do I do?

I didn't know how to heal him. This was far too advanced for the little medical skill I had in charms class, and even then I had only skimmed through that chapter.  My next thought was to take him to a hospital but wizard hospitals would raise alarms for who he was and muggle hospitals wouldn't know how to properly cure him.

I was at a terrible crossroads, the sheer epitome of horror.  The clock was ticking because if I didn't choose fast, Sirius would be dead.

I had minutes only.  I had to think.  I got up to pace, as if miraculous inspiration would strike that way, but Sirius's hand seized my wrist.  I knelt back down beside his writhing body.  His eyes still weren't open, but his mouth was moving, and his heart was beating.  Even if it was faint, he was still here.  Alive.

Come on, Cassie.  One of the worst parts is over. Be strong for him. Be strong for yourself.

"No.2," he mumbled, "i-in the tr-trunk."

He didn't need to say anything more. I sped into the trailer and threw open the heavy lid to the trunk, tearing everything apart looking for a supposed cure I figured Sirius was alluding to in giving me its location. 

Buried deep beneath a pile of clothes and trinkets I had no use for right now, I found a glass bottle of silvery liquid.  I had no idea what it was but Sirius didn't have much time so I raced back outside, hoping that I had the right fix in my grasp.

"Good."  Sirius gave a weak nod when he saw me approaching.  "You f-found it."

I unstoppered the cork keeping the elixir contained and knelt down next to him again.  "What do I do?"

And where on earth had he gotten this?  Sirius didn't have a stash of medical supplies as far as I knew unless...  Madam Pomfrey.

Ever the perceptive one, Sirius knew exactly what wheels were turning in my mind.  "S-swiped it from the... to s-save y-yo—" A violent fit of coughing came up, blocking speech, and then blood shot out of his mouth, splattering.

I grimaced and told him to stop talking.  He could tell me after.  After I had saved him, because if I failed this... if I failed him after he saved me so many times, in so many different ways...

Put simply — if I let Sirius Black die today, I would never forgive myself.

I would hate myself even more than I already hated myself for Constance.