Consequences

Chapter One.

'Is That How You Look When You're Sorry?'

Sirius stared hard at the stone floor. He could hear nothing except the quiet whir of a dozen strange magical instruments and his own quick, shallow breaths, but he could feel the headmaster's gaze upon him, his Head of House's unrelenting gaze. Heck, even the portraits were staring at him. But he wasn't going to speak and break the near-silence, or look up and meet the accusing eyes.

'Would you care to explain yourself, Mr Black?' Dumbledore asked him mildly.

Sirius considered opening his mouth to speak, but for once thought better of it, and settled for shuffling slightly from one foot to the other.

Professor McGonagall snorted. 'One might hope, Mr Black,' she commented curtly, 'that your uncharacteristic silence is a sign of contrition. However, you will do the Headmaster the courtesy of answering his question. Furthermore you will look up when you are spoken to.'

'Yes, professor,' Sirius mumbled and lifted his head a quarter of an inch. He could just about make out the tip of Dumbledore's beard through curtains of his own hair.

'All the way, Mr Black,' Professor McGonagall instructed.

Finally Sirius lifted his head and looked at the Headmaster. Dumbledore's cool blue eyes bored into him. 'Ah,' thought Sirius, 'so much for being too noble to pry into students' minds. Well let him have a good poke round the inner reaches of my psyche, and see if he can make any sense of it. Damned if I can'.

'I will ask you again, Sirius,' Dumbledore pressed, 'can you offer any explanation for your behaviour?

'Oh for the love of Merlin, not first names,' thought Sirius darkly. 'Surely he's not going for the kindly uncle routine at a time like this.' Aloud he said, 'I...er...I don't know sir'.

'Really? You have admitted deliberately putting the life of a fellow student in danger yet you now profess to have done so for no reason at all?'

'I knew it,' Sirius told himself, 'the old git is trying to make me feel guilty. Or more guilty. Won't be long before he tells me he's not so much angry as disappointed. Well, it isn't going to work; he can't manipulate me that easily.'

'I well...I did have a reason...at the time,' Sirius admitted grudgingly, 'but it wasn't a very good one.'

'Very well, I will hear your not very good reason then,' Dumbledore responded, still staring, but with his eyebrows slightly raised.

Sirius shrugged. 'Fine,' he thought, 'have it your way. I'm going to be expelled anyway, so it can hardly get any worse.'

'I hate him,' he said simply.

'Which one?' asked Dumbledore coolly.

'Er...what?' Sirius was too confused to even notice that Professor McGonagal was fixing him with an extra-fierce stare. 'Well, what?'

'Mr Snape or Mr Lupin; which one do you hate?'

Sirius stared back at the headmaster open mouthed. 'Is this a trick question, or has he finally lost it?'

Dumbledore didn't wait for an answer. 'This, ah, prank of yours could have resulted in Mr Snape's death. Unless I'm very much mistaken, Mr Lupin will not regard being used as an unwitting tool in an attempted murder as an act of friendship, nor will the fact that you allowed his secret to become known to Mr Snape please him greatly.'

'Oh, shit.'

*****************************

'So, how did it go?' James had been waiting for Sirius in the corridor outside Dumbledore's office and pounced on his friend the moment he saw him. Sirius just looked at him blankly, and then strode off down the corridor. James hurried after him. 'Oh...oh...he didn't...you haven't been expelled have you?'

'No...at least not yet. I've got to go back and see him in a week, then I'll find out what my punishment is. He says he wants me to think about the consequences of my actions.'

'Urgh, making you sweat it hey? The fiend. So which was it this time; cold, steely anger, burning fury, or disappointed, but frankly not surprised?'

'Bit of a mixture...cold and angry, a bit...enigmatic of course...'

'...goes without saying....'

'...naturally. Maddeningly patient - oh and trying to understand...'

'He didn't?' James raised an eyebrow.

'He bloody did,' Sirius retorted.

'Ha!' James snorted with laughter and spun Sirius round by his elbows, staring into his face, swaying dramatically and said in a far-away, sing-song voice, 'look into my eyes, looook into my ey-ees.'

'Well, naturally Dumbledore doesn't have your flair for showmanship, Prongs, but yes, I do believe he was using Legilimency. Merlin knows what he might have found in there.'

'Indeed. No wonder he couldn't decide whether or not to expel you. Poor man probably needs a large firewhiskey and a nice lie-down after being privy to the sordid workings of your mind,' James commented idly as he strolled towards the staircase.

'Hmmm. Hey, hold on, I wouldn't call my mind sordid. That's a bit harsh.'

'Alright, Padfoot, your mind isn't sordid,' James said with the air of one talking to a particularly dim four year old, 'merely twisted, deviant, scheming, thoroughly unpleasant...'

'Actually I'm rather warming to sordid again now...'

'OK, sordid it is.' James grinned. 'Though I might remind you that I did tell you to learn Occlumency.'

'Prongs, how many times? Occlumency is the most pointless branch of magic imaginable. You need eye-contact to read minds....what's the point of spending Merlin knows how long learning defensive techniques against mental attacks that can be repelled just as easily by simply closing your eyes?' Sirius scoffed.

'Have it your own way. You're the one that has to live with Dumbledore being privy to all your pervy little secrets!' James proclaimed dramatically.

'Oh do stop it,' Sirius wailed. 'This isn't funny.'

'Isn't it?' asked James, with an air of incredulity that suggested that Sirius had just announced that it didn't really matter if Slytherin won the Quidditch Cup, as taking part was more important than winning.

'No it isn't. This isn't just another prank is it? I did a really, really bad thing. It wasn't funny, it was...wrong. I could have killed Snape...not that that would be any great loss, but even I know people don't deserve to be murdered just for being...well just for being Snivellus. More to the point, you could have been killed! You might have died and it would all have been my fault.'

'Sirius, calm down,' said James. 'It's OK. No-one got killed. No-one was even really hurt...just a few cuts and bruises from the Willow on the way out. Don't get worked up about it.'

'Don't get worked up? How can you be so calm about this? Why aren't you angry with me?'

'Well, I...' James paused, apparently considering his answer. 'Look, Padfoot, you are my best friend and I...well, I just don't want to be angry with you. So I'm not.'

'You can't just decide whether or not to be angry with someone!'

'Well I can and I have,' James insisted. 'We've been friends for too long for me to not want to talk to you just because you screwed up once...even if it was on a fairly monumental scale. And besides I'm...well, I'm worried about you.'

'You're worried about me?' Sirius exclaimed.

'Yes, I am. You haven't been yourself lately, there was all that stuff with your parents...'

'What, it's alright for me to go around behaving like a complete homicidal maniac just because I ...just because I left home? Poor lost little puppy doesn't know what he's doing?' Sirius spluttered.

'Well, you didn't really, did you?' James answered quietly. 'I know you didn't mean to actually kill him, did you?'

'No, no...I didn't...I didn't mean anything...I just...' Sirius scowled. 'I just didn't think about what I was doing. That doesn't make it any better though.'

'Yes it does,' said James firmly, 'because it means you are not a potential murderer, merely spectacularly stupid. And if I was going to stop being friends with you just because you are an idiot, I'd have done it years ago.'

'Cheers.'

'Anytime, my friend, any time. Besides, my mother's expecting you for Christmas she'll be devastated if you don't show up. I think she actually prefers you to me - probably because she thinks you really are a little lost puppy dog.' James rolled his eyes indulgently. 'Anyway, if I go home without you there's no telling what she'll do...probably send an owl to your mother and ask if she wants to do a swap. From what you've told me about your lot, I think I'd rather take my chances with you, even if you are a homicidal maniac just waiting for the opportune moment to murder me in my bed.'

'OK,' said Sirius, mollified. 'Thanks. And I promise not to murder you in your bed.'

'Ah, like you'd stand a chance against the famous Potter lightening reflexes...'

'Oh you think so do you, Prongs?' Sirius teased.

'I don't just think so, Padfoot, I know...'

*************************

Sirius had felt a little better after James' instances that he wasn't angry with him, nor did he think he was a homicidal maniac. James did, however, cast several aspirations on Sirius' mental state generally, especially when Sirius insisted on saying sorry to each and every person in the Gryffindor common room whom he had crossed, mocked, hexed or in some other way mistreated. James had decided things had gone too far when Sirius apologised to Peter for, 'being a bit mean sometimes.'

'Sorry to interrupt, Padfoot, but what in the name of bloody hell are you doing?'

'I'm apologising to Wormtail. For being a git,' answered Sirius, as if James were insane to ask. 'Sorry for being a git, Wormtail,' he added, gravely.

'Er...that's alright,' Peter mumbled. 'Not that I really thought you were a git in the first place.'

'Yes, he is,' snapped James. 'Really, Wormtail, don't encourage him. Padfoot is the very definition of a git, and you are only making him worse by playing along with his insanity. If he tries apologising again, or does anything else weirdly out of character, I want you to promise me you'll punch him - for his own good.'

'But I need to apologise,' whined Sirius. 'It's important.'

'Why though? You've never felt the need to apologise for anything before, and now you're running run like some crazed apologising fiend...'

'Apologising fiend?' queried Peter.

'Apologising fiend,' confirmed James firmly. 'And it is just not normal. Not once in sixteen years as so much as a word of apology passed your lips, and now you can't get enough of it. What's with that?'

'But that's the whole point,' said Sirius, as if it were obvious to all but the meanest intelligence. 'I need to practice. I need to apologise to Moony in...' he checked his watch, 'two and a half hours, and I have to do it properly, or he'll hate me for ever and ever and never talk to me again, because I'm such an appalling, thoughtless, revolting git.'

'And you think if you apologise enough, Moony might be not think you are an appalling, thoughtless, revolting git?' James raised an eyebrow quizzically.

'No, he'll still know that I'm an appalling, thoughtless, revolting git, but he might forgive me for it anyway,' Sirius replied earnestly.

'Tell you what, Padfoot; I've got a better plan. Why don't you practice not being such a git?'

'How should I do that?'

'Stop bloody apologising and shut up, for the love of Merlin.'

'Alright then.'

'Thank you. I'll be sure to tell Moony that you are working hard on the not being a git front.'

******************

'One and a half hours until I go to see Moony,' announced Sirius dramatically. 'And I still don't know how to do it properly.'

'Do what properly?' asked James lewdly.

'Apologise, you arse'

'Sorry.'

'No, not you, me. I need to apologise properly, so Moony won't hate me forever.'

'Stop being so melodramatic. Just own up, say you're sorry and let him punch you a few times if he feels like it. Why is this such a big deal for you?

Sirius folded his arms sulkily and pouted. 'It just is'

*************************

'Forty-five minutes to go.'

'If I don't throw you out of the window first,' muttered James darkly, 'which is more than likely if you don't stop whining.'

'I am not whining!'

'Wormtail, is Padfoot whining?' asked James casually.

'I'm afraid to say he is, rather.' Peter nodded sagely. Sirius glared at him.

'There you have it, two to one, you're whining. Now kindly shut up.'

Sirius didn't reply, but he did stare at James in a whiny sort of a way.

*************

'Half an hour.'

James scowled ominously. Peter flinched.

'What?' Sirius tried to look innocent. 'I didn't do anything.'

**************

'Twenty minutes.'

'Best be going then,' said James through gritted teeth. 'Don't want to be late for the great bedside reconciliation.'

Sirius fought back the urge to retort with some effort. 'Prongs...' he wheedled.

'Oh hell fire, Padfoot, what now?'

'Will you come with me?'

'For the love of Merlin, Padfoot, what is wrong with you? Do you really think that having spent the last three hours listening to you whining on about Moony, I might actually want to come to the hospital wing to listen to you whining on to Moony?'

'Well, I'm not very good at it,' explained Sirius.

'Not for the want of trying,' muttered Peter under his breath.

Sirius ignored him and continued, 'I thought if you were with me, you could help me out. You know, kick me if I start saying something stupid.'

'Well that part does have a certain amount of appeal.'

'You're such a good friend,' grinned Sirius.

******************

'Ten minutes.'

James rolled his eyes, but said nothing as they walked towards the hospital wing.

'Do you really think he'll forgive me?'

'How should I know?' snapped James. Sirius was getting beyond annoying now.

'I don't know why you agreed to come, if you're not going to be helpful,' said Sirius huffily.

'I only agreed to come because you have clearly had some sort of mental breakdown and are unfit to be allowed out of the Common Room unsupervised.'

'You're not helping'

***************

'Two minutes.'

They were outside the hospital wing.

'Well go on then,' said James, pushing Sirius towards the hospital wing door. 'Best get it over and done with.'

'Right.'

'Right.'

'I'll just do it.'

'Get on with it'

'I'll do that.'

'On you go then.'

'Now.'

'Right now.'

'OK,' said Sirius, and he pushed open the door. 'Oh, shit. Shit, bugger, arse and damn.'