Painted Scars // WOLFSTAR

Year Six: The Dead Plant

"Hey Killer," a voice cut in through the haze of smoke. Sirius didn't need to lift his head to recognise her voice anymore. "Up here again?"

He only shrugged, taking another bitter drag of his cigarette, before letting it dangle loosely between his fingers. His other hand raised to fiddle with the gold bracelet on his wrist. He'd been touching it far more recently, as it was the only reminder Sirius had of Remus these days. If Marlene noticed, she didn't say anything about it.

"Astronomy classes start any minute. You ought to head out soon." She was right; the sun was beginning to set, and Sirius could make out the faint shape of the moon beneath the clouds. Yet, he made no move to leave.

"Yeah," he agreed pointlessly. Orange beams of light hit the gold bracelet, and he felt for a moment as if he was touching the sun – holding it delicately between his forefingers.

He wasn't even sure what it was he was hiding from anymore. Maybe Remus, who eyed him angrily whenever he dared to sit in the common room. Or maybe Regulus, who kept trying to corner Sirius in the halls despite his begging to be left alone.

Marlene's eyes burned into Sirius, and her lips were pursed tightly as if she were only just refraining from saying something that'd been bothering her.

"You can say it, whatever it is. I'm not going to break." He finally looked over at her properly, fag back between his teeth. Judging by Marlene's reaction, he knew he must've looked quite the contrary.

The moment her eyes glossed over and a fake smile rounded the corners of her mouth, however, he knew the moment had passed. "You know, I made the Quidditch team," she said instead, voice going almost idle.

He hummed, looking away again and staring instead at the sunset. "I didn't. That's great, McKinnon."

She hummed as well, although hers was much less gruff, and held a hint of contradiction. "I resent you for it a little bit," she mused, coming up beside him and leaning against the balcony too. "I only got a spot on the team because you were kicked off of it."

This made Sirius look at her again. "What?"

She looked away, embarrassed.

"Surely you know that isn't true," he said quickly, stubbing out the fag in disbelief. "McKinnon, had you tried out the year I did, I would've gotten my arse kicked. No, really!" he added when she glared at him. "You think this is the body of an athlete?!"

She scanned her eyes up and down his chest, and a small smile bloomed over her lips. "I was mostly joking, anyways."

"You better have been fully joking! If you think there's any world in which I outmatch you in...well, anything, you're off your rocker." She eyed him carefully, and he felt the need to hastily add, "I'm just glad someone's benefiting from what I did."

He then felt frustrated at himself for stubbing out that cigarette, because the way she was looking at him gave him the desire to hide his face with something.

"You never did tell me what it was you did," Marlene said, scoping him out for any change in expression. "I'm not exactly sure how I'm supposed to..."

"What, pity me?" Sirius asked sardonically. Marlene placed a hand on the arm that was fiddling with his bracelet and sent him a meaningful look.

"Be a friend."

Well, Sirius didn't like that any more than he would've liked being pitied.

"You don't allow yourself to be comforted. I wish I could know why, because you deserve to be."

Sirius tried to fight the scoff that tore its way through his throat but lost. "You don't care about comforting me. You're just nosy." Then, because he found it easier to yell at himself than her, he finished, "I don't deserve anything at all."