Thicker than Water (Marauders Era)

2 January, 1978 - Visitor

The next morning, it was as though none of the events of the previous day had happened at all. Lavinia came downstairs for breakfast with no indication that she'd locked herself in the bathroom last night and no acknowledgement of Sirius's effort to get her to come out.

He'd gone up to Lavinia's room just a few minutes after she'd left the kitchen and had knocked repeatedly, calling for her, kicking himself for letting her leave the kitchen alone. She hadn't responded. So he'd told her he was coming in. And he'd found her suitcase open on the floor and the bathroom door locked, which was, to say the least, mildly worrying. So he'd knocked on that and asked her if she was alright. And had been met with silence once again.

He'd asked her to answer, to let him in, to at least tell him she was alive in there. And that last request had been the only one she'd consented to. Perhaps, he thought, because she too was remembering his wild fear the last time they'd come even close to a situation like this.

"Please go away," was all she'd said. Her voice had been flat, the same sad, hollow thing she'd spoken with that night on top of the tower. It had scared him more than he would have liked to admit. The sound of her voice that night - and this night - wasn't something he was likely to forget. It sounded like someone who had given up entirely.

Of course, his answer had been no. Simply, unequivocally no. Not a chance in hell he was leaving her alone on a night like this.

There had been a momentary silence and then, "Please? I promise everything is fine. I just need to think."

"What's to think about?" Sirius had demanded, frustration, both with her belligerence and his own stupidity for not trying harder to comfort her sooner, slipping into his words. "You mother is trying to manipulate you," he continued after a moment. "Don't let her win."

And again, silence for a long while. "I know," she said at last, and he almost believed it was true. Almost, but not quite. "But I still need to think. I'll come down in a little while, okay?"

It had been Sirius's turn to stop and think then. But in the end he'd agreed, with the warning that if she wasn't down in half an hour, he was coming up and he'd unlock the door himself.

He wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do, especially in light of that night on the tower, but he remembered all too well when he'd left home. He'd needed space. He hadn't wanted anything forced on him. He'd needed to deal with the rage and guilt on his own. So he would let her do the same until she was ready to ask for help.

Not that he left the room. He sat, back to the door, quiet and more than slightly afraid, but determined that should anything untoward happen, should she need him for anything at all, he would be there.

But she had come out half an hour later and nearly tripped over him. The look she'd given him was a blank contemplation that was so much worse than rage. He didn't know if she was mad at him for not giving her more space - he didn't think she was, but this was Lavinia and if the past was any indication, there was no telling what she was thinking or feeling unless she let you in on the secret. Which she certainly hadn't done on this occasion.

So Sirius had departed awkwardly and the following morning, when her eyes locked onto him for only a brief moment before she looked away and went about serving herself a tiny portion of breakfast, was no better.

"How are you feeling?" Remus asked cautiously as Lavinia poured herself coffee from the pot. Sirius shot his friend a grateful look, selfishly glad someone else had broached the subject. He wasn't sure he wanted to be the one she answered to. In part because he didn't think he'd like the truth and in part because he wasn't sure he could stomach much more of her lying to him - to all of them - so she could pretend nothing in the world was wrong.