What Is and What Should Never Be | Sirius Black

23. The Talk

NOT TALKING TO Sirius is painful. It's the same kind of hurt as when Remus was avoiding me, but this time we both know why, and there's no chasing to have it fixed. I'm the only one who can do anything about it, but I don't. I can't. Or - at least - I tell myself I can't. For so many reasons.

For once, Debbie shuts up. To me, anyway. I still don't know what Remus told her, but whatever it was, she's taken to ignoring me again. However, the wisps of gossip that float through out Hogwarts tell me what things she's been saying about me, they're untrue - or extremely exaggerated, but not many people bother to tamper with things that lead to drama; even some of my own housemates have taken to turning their heads and whispering when they see me.

Also, I don't think I can ever speak to Sirius again unless I give him a proper answer as to why I don't want him. And I can't come up with what he wants me to say, because I do want him. Every time I lock eyes with him, he looks like he knows I don't have an answer yet. And every time I see him, I know it hurts him. It hurts me too, and between hurting him, and the rumours of me, all I want to do is crawl under my covers and wish I was 11 again, with my broken English so I can't understand what they're saying.

But that doesn't happen.

By the next day, Mulciber and Wilkes have some rather clever and creative hexes cast on them from some unknown hero. I'm not saying I know the person (Iman) responsible for it, but the letter we get owled, signed from David and addressed to the two of us, with a list of things that will erupt waves of displeasure for them, gives me a hint.

I'm not smart enough to do that, though. When I see Wilkes in the halls right after the news, I take my small Hufflepuff frame and sock them right in the jaw the old fashioned, muggle way. Promptly receiving my first detention of my Hogwarts career.

And every night since then, I've found myself in the Hufflepuff common room, taken to one of the armchairs as I pretend to keep busy. It the only room in Hogwarts where people don't ask: did you really steal another girls boyfriend? To which I tell them, no, I didn't, because do you see me with a boyfriend right now? And they nod, walking away with either a face that conveys that they knew, or a face that shows they wanted a little more drama. And it's the only room I can hide in that doesn't have Debbie. She knows I won't go into the dorms with her there, so I camp out here, which is easier said than done when all I want to do is go wallow in my bed.

And I can't go to Rem's dorm. Sirius is there, and if Sirius is there, it means he's probably told Remus and his friends what happened. And I can't put Remus in a position between us, it's not right. So I'm avoiding the topic of me and Sirius at all costs, which Rem doesn't like very much.

So somewhere after midnight, as the last late-night Hufflepuffs retire to their dorm rooms, I'm left in front of the fire, using a blanket as more of a shield from the heat of the flame, than something to comfort me.

And then the common room barrel swings open.

"Des?" I'm called and turn my head.

"Henry?" I ask. "Where've you been? It's midnight."

"I could say the same for you." He says, dodging my question.

"Debbie." I shrug, face dropping to a tired one. "Just better when she's not around."

"Right on." He agrees like he knows what I'm talking about, adding a soft laugh. "You know, there's a price for being your friend now."

I falter. Did I ruin his relationship with Debbie too? Immediately, I'm apologizing for anything I might've done - knowingly, or otherwise - that could have jeopardized their own friendship. Henry smiles at my rambling, which throws me off and I stop mid-sentence, hands on the back of the chair from my migration to sitting on my knees to face him properly. He tells me I didn't do anything wrong, he just didn't like the way she was talking about me, and she told him that he doesn't need to listen to her anymore. At all. I apologize, because that makes one more person without a friend.