Intended

[twenty six]

The room is oddly quiet for a Friday night, and to anyone listening outside the door, it would seem as if everyone within has gone to sleep. Something of an anomaly, that four Gryffindor boys would be sleeping in their dormitory on a Friday night.

On their beds, yes, the boys sit, but they are far from asleep. Three pairs of eyes keep on glancing nervously at the bed nearest the door, at the hangings that were angrily wrenched shut a few minutes ago, and then they meet each other in turn.

Sirius knows that they are all daring each other to come and talk to him, but he does not want to talk right now. He cannot talk to them, not while he still hurts; he cannot tell them what has happened, not while he can still hear Andromeda's indignant words in his head.

'I don't need you to fight for me, Sirius.'

He rolls over, gritting his teeth as he feels the cool material of the pillow brushing against his fevered skin. He is angry, yes; he is furious. How dare she be so ungrateful, when he had just saved her from those stupid boys who were always hurting her? How dare she, when all he was doing was fulfilling his obligations as her Intended? How dare she?

He closes his eyes in an effort to block out every other feeling, but it only makes things worse. With nothing to see, the images float back in front of him, dancing behind closed lids. He squeezes them shut so tightly in an effort to stop himself from seeing anything that green swirls erupt in front of him and his temples throb from the efforts of trying not to think.

And yet, he cannot stop the onslaught.

They push Andromeda to the wall, leering at her, scattering her books and letting bottles of ink smash against the stone floor. Sirius recognizes them instantly as the same two boys who have been making life miserable for her since the beginning of the year. He immediately ducks down, masking himself in shadow so that he can creep closer. The wand he has tucked away so carefully in his sleeve slides easily into his palm; his fingers clutch at the thin strip of wood, drawing confidence from the way it vibrates under his fingertips, ready for battle.

He is so close to them now, and they still do not see him. He can hear their crude words and Andromeda's scathing responses, but he knows she is losing. She glances about, frightened and trapped between them. One of the boys moves forward, wand raised; Sirius feels his temper rise within him and he leaps out from where he has been hiding. With his anger, a power surges through him, a power he cannot control. His hands shake in rage as he takes in the boys who now have turned to face him, but his voice is steady as he pronounces the spell. He can feel the surge of energy as it passes through him, his wand almost splintering to the core from the force of the curse. Both boys are blasted off their feet; Andromeda is thrown sharply to the ground from the effects of the spell that almost threatens to knock Sirius himself off balance.

The aftermath of the spell lies heavy over him as the two barely manage to get to their feet and flee. He is breathing heavily; he does not understand why the curse has drained him of energy, but at the same time he cannot help but smile in victory. He turns to Andromeda, only to find her staring at him in shock.

'Where did you learn that spell?' she asks, and there is a dangerous undertone in her voice that he has never heard before. Her expression is changing, from astonishment to anger, and then to fury. 'Where?'

Sirius shrugs, put-off by her sudden change in mood. 'I don't know.'

She sweeps towards him, and as she steps into the light he can see that her eyes are hardened, narrow slits and her cheeks are colored; she snatches his wand from him and grabs him about the shoulders, shaking him hard and shouting.

'You little idiot! You don't go using Dark Magic on people just because of something small like that!' she fumes. 'Do you even realize what you've done?'

'Then what the hell was I supposed to do?' he snaps. 'Besides, I didn't know it was Dark Magic!'

'That doesn't matter! You can't just go hexing people!'

'But they were going to hex you!'

'I don't care what they were going to do. It's still not an excuse to use such a curse!'

'But-'

'You don't get it, do you? I don't need you to fight for me, Sirius,' she says, pushing him away sharply before turning away from him. He stumbles backwards, barely managing to keep his balance, throwing his arms out and grabbing at the wall for support. He doesn't know what to say, but it doesn't matter... she has already walked off, her footsteps fading down the corridor but her voice still ringing in his ears.

He replays it over and over again in his mind. The shock on Andromeda's face haunts him; her change in temper confuses him. In his memory he searches her eyes for some sort of approval, some sort of gratitude even. But the more he looks for it, the more he frustrates himself because he cannot see anything of it at all. Instead, there is a strange disappointment that seeps through, as if she had lost faith in him when he lost his temper; it is obvious now, the distress in her movements, the pain in her voice even after she had snatched his wand and pushed him away.

'I don't need you to fight for me, Sirius.'

A sudden despair rises in him as her voice echoes through his head again. The after-effects of the curse are making him feel sick; his thoughts are making it worse. Every time he hears her, her words fade away even more, until he is left with something he fears, something that grips his heart and makes him feel even worse than he already is.

'I don't need you to fight for me...'

'I don't need you to fight...'

'I don't need you...'

He rolls over and buries his face in his pillow, biting back a scream. He forces her voice out of her head, concentrates on the murmuring that comes from beyond the hangings of his bed, the sound of cloth against his skin, anything but the horrible words that grip him.

He laughs at himself nervously, because the words he hears were unsaid; he shakes his head at his own thoughts and how they have twisted themselves into things he'd rather not think about.

But even then, he can't help but shudder. He is scared that he might be losing her, and he has no idea what he might do if he did. He stares moodily at his ring, at the way the snakes flash in the light, at the way they intertwine, interconnected, inextricable. Dependent on one another, but separate from all others.

Just like Andromeda and himself.

No, he cannot let anything happen. Resolutely, he rises; ignoring the questioning glances and calls from his friends, he goes looking for Andromeda and hopes he can put things right.

*