Forgotten

Forgotten

Sirius Black stared out across the Hogwarts grounds, his normally sparkling blue eyes dull and veiled. His shoulders were slumped forward as he stared aimlessly, not really seeing the view from the window of the third year Gryffindor boys' dormitory. He did not acknowledge the presence of anyone, even when the door opened and the sound of footsteps announced someone's arrival.

"Sirius, mate, you're here!" James Potter said gleefully, ignorant to the demons that dined on his best friend's soul. "How come we didn't see you at the feast?" Sirius had not been on the Hogwarts Express; the three boys - who now stood behind Sirius, waiting for a reply - had searched it front to back.

They waited a few minutes for a reply, but Sirius had not moved an inch. He continued his calm, even breathing. He might have been asleep but for the fact that his blue eyes were open and slowly scanning the landscape that he did not take in.

"Padfoot," Remus said, taking a step forward so he was standing next to James. "Hey, mate, all right?" He could tell something was wrong. Remus, the collective observer, had always been good at reading people even when they didn't want him to.

For a long moment there was no answer, and then soft words escaped Sirius' lips. "I am gone now. They have left me." His breath rolled out with the words, collecting on the windowpane in a thick fog, much like what clouded his mind.

The three Marauders shared a look. That was the strangest thing they had ever heard come from Sirius Black's mouth, and they had heard him say some pretty strange things. This made absolutely no sense, and when you were a student at Hogwarts with Albus Dumbledore as Headmaster, you got a high tolerance to senseless gibberish.

"Padfoot, what's going on?" James asked, taking charge. His voice came out a little forcefully, but they needed to understand. "Who's left you, and what do you mean you have gone? You're still here."

For a while, no one said anything. Everything was still, like a starless winter night when the snow had collected on the ground but none fell from the sky. All manner of creatures were sleeping, and there was no sound - none at all. Only silence; peace; complete stillness.

It was disconcerting and absolutely beautiful, all wrapped up into one neat little package. Sirius couldn't decide whether he enjoyed it or wanted it to take physical form so he could hex the hell out of it.

After a while, the fog of his mind faded enough for him to comprehend the words the boy spoke. The boy; James; his friend; yes, his friend, James. He should answer him. His friends had always been there for him. They deserved an answer.

Oh, but it hurt and felt wonderful at the same time! How could he explain it when he himself didn't understand?

"I've gone," Sirius began, his voice barely above a whisper. "From...the...the..." 'The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black!' His mind all but screamed it, but to get it on his tongue was another thing. It just kept sliding off, like jello.

He hated jello.

"My family," he tried again. "They've left me." He tried to shrug indifferently, but only succeeded in making his shoulders slump more. In times long past, he had wished he could leave his family. They hated him, of that there was no question. He had thought things would be so much better if he was separated from them. But now that they had gone, leaving him behind, he felt empty somehow. Lost...

"What, have they gone on a vacation and left you to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays?" Peter, as usual, was his naive self. If not for the circumstances, the others might have laughed, but Remus and James did not think like Peter. They had quite a feeling they knew what Sirius' cryptic message meant.

Remus took a couple steps closer and knelt before his friend, trying to look into Sirius' eyes, but all he saw was a dull darkness, the look of a lost child who could not find his way. "Sirius?" he asked. "Padfoot? They've left you? For good?"

Slowly, ever so slowly, Sirius lifted his head and gazed into Remus' eyes. He gave no shake or nod to answer, but his gaze told all. Peter gasped, covering his mouth with his hands as his small wit once again came up with the wrong answer. "They died? Oh dear, Sirius, I'm sorry!" he said in a sort of strangled whisper.

Sirius glanced at Peter, giving an odd half-smirk, half-sarcastic smile. "No, I've died," he corrected, his voice croaky, like he had been crying or screaming for a long time. "In their eyes." He looked away, out the window again. "They disowned me," he added in a whisper. "Just last night."

Once again, the confused tumble of feelings returned. There was a joyous freedom at no longer being tied to their horrible name, and at the same time, a terrible feeling of loss and despair. Together, the feelings warred and it was so painful it brought tears to his eyes.

"What am I supposed to do now?" he whispered, his voice full of the agony he felt deep inside. His eyes burned with tears. He hadn't meant to speak out loud, but now that he had begun, he felt he didn't want to stop. "Where am I supposed to go? I don't have anyone! They all hate me! They...They've forgotten me!"

This seemed to bring a whole new wave of pain as his voice faded away. He remembered watching his mother blast his name off of the Family Tree. He had gone from the family line. He had been forgotten.

"Padfoot, we're still here!" Remus cried, his voice almost desperate. "We're not going to forget you!"

"We won't leave you, Sirius," Peter squeaked.

"We're here for you, mate," James said, putting a reassuring hand on Sirius' shoulder. "You can come to my house over the summer. Mum and Dad wouldn't mind, and I'd have somebody to hang out with." He smirked. "We could plan some pranks and test them out on Davie."

But Sirius wasn't listening. The words rolled over him, but they did not penetrate his skin. He was staring out of the window again, out at the grounds, but he did not see them. In his mind, he was watching his mother blast his name off of the Family Tree over and over. He could hear the cackling laughter of the House Elves and the whispered gossip of the portraits on the wall. He could see his brother's cold sneer, his eyes gleaming with pleasure. His mother's face swam into view and she glared down at him, pointing at his trunk behind him with her wand. She had prepared it herself. He was gone from the Family Tree. Now he would be gone from the house and from the family.

"Take your things and go; you're not welcome here anymore! Leave us in peace, Blood-Traitor! Leave us!"

The windowpane was cold, but even as Sirius rested his head against it he did not notice. He did not see the owls swooping past the window or the stars twinkling in the sky. The crescent moon did not enter his vision, and he did not take in the smoke rising from the chimney of Hagrid's hut. He did not hear the words of his companions behind him or see a brighter future ahead. He gazed only at the past and at his rejection. He stared into the hatred-filled eyes of his mother and the sneering face of his brother.

He forgot to move on into the future. He forgot to listen to the words of his friends in the here and now. He forgot that he still had people that cared for him. He forgot that life moves on. He forgot that the past was behind him. He remembered only one thing.

"I am gone now. They have left me."

He was forgotten.