Title: Grey Delirium Dreamin
Author YoukoRei
Authors Notes: Here's the fanifc I've been working on. It's short, but I'm rather fond of it. Everything should fall relatively in line with the cannon provided. It takes place in the middle of the Marauder's sixth year.
It's not my usual writing style simply because I'm trying to get the disjointed aspect of delirium across without stating it too much. So bear with me.
Also, feverfew, fenugreek seed, and capsicum are all real herbs that can all be used for flu and fever. I did my research.
Rating:PG
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Grey Delirium Dreaming
Consciousness ran sluggishly through his veins. Voices came and went, echoing strangely in his mind. They were too far away to pick up clearly. Shaky hands moved up to tangle in a spill of sweat-soaked black hair.
"What are you doing?" That voice. He recognized that voice. He listened carefully for the response as it oozed its way through the fog in his mind.
"Nothing!" Young. The protest of a child.
"That's not what it looks like, Sirius." Someone had spoken his name. The younger voice beat him to a response.
"I not going to tell you!"
Warm laughter filled his ears. "I'm older, so you have to, imp."
Pale blue eyes opened slowly, trying to make sense of their surroundings. The beds, the furniture, the walls... Everything was strange and yet nostalgia tugged at the back of his mind.
He couldn't see the two people that had been speaking. There was only an attractively plump woman bustling around at a set of shelves at the other end of the room.
"Why are you following me?" Sirius tensed as the voice rushed past his ear. He turned slightly to make out gentle grey eyes; there was false resentment in that soft voice. "I have important things to do, Sirius. Next year's my second year and I need to read this for school."
He could see the book. He remembered the pale hands and long fingers that reluctantly held it out to him. He reached to touch it, but the images fell through his fingers like mist.
"Wait..." The word was a hoarse whisper escaping from a mouth dry with fever. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to still the throbbing behind his temples. He raised his hand, but a sharp voice stopped him.
"Sit still, Sirius." Eyes snapped open again. The woman was at the foot of his bed, but she was so different to him now. She was thin, frail as glass. Long black hair fell against a pale neck and onto small shoulders. Those piercing blue eyes...
"Momma..."
"You will sit there for three hours more if you don't still yourself this instant!"
Sirius shook his head. That was a long time to sit in the parlor alone. "I won't move," he croaked. "I'm sorry."
The ghostly figure moved away, satisfied with his response.
The fire in the fireplace roared deafeningly. It was hot in the room. Far too hot...
As his eyes slipped closed again, he could feel the liquid heat concentrate on him, running slowly down his chest, settling on his stomach.
"Your fine breeding is starting to show, Black. You look just like your mother. Forth year at Hogwarts, is it?"
Those long fingers again, this time pushing up his shirt to brush against the skin of his navel. Fleeting touches like water against his raw nerve endings.
"Lucius, what are you--"
A pointed glare commanded silence. Soon, the hands continued tracing obscure runes against his flesh. "None of us are able to decide where you--" A poignant pause. "Malfunctioned, Sirius. You were always pretentious, always disobedient... Always a disappointment."
Pale hands slid downward and suddenly it was hard to breath. "Do you remember what your mother said when she found out that you'd been placed in Gryffindor? Inconsolable." Those hands became rough. Cold, grey eyes stared disdainfully at him. "You were too wretched to get into Slytherin. Family traditions all thrown away because of you."
A moan caught deep in his throat but he kept it suppressed, scared of the unnatural hate he saw in those orbs.
Hands became cruel, eliciting pain.
"Lucius, don't--"
Cool hands were suddenly pressed gently against his face, forcing the others into hiding. Blue eyes fluttered open again.
"--mate. Come on--" Sirius turned his head, trying to move out of the haze that had fallen over him. His senses were dulled, covered by the thick muslin of fever.
In and out of focus. Out, then in again.
"James?"
The face became clearer, smiling down at him. The cool hands continued to move against his forehead, becoming more real with every stroke.
"How's the infirmary bed? It can't be comfortable."
Sirius gave the room a cursory glance, confusion etched into his features. "Infirmary?" Barely a whisper.
James frowned, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "You caught Remus' flu. It doesn't seem to be agreeing with you."
He remembered Remus being sick, but it was so far away. He wanted to go back to the library at home. It was so much closer, so much safer.
A gentle shake stopped him from closing his eyes. "Stay awake for me, mate. You keep having bad dreams, and you need to be awake when they bring your medicine."
"Dreams..." The word escaped like a breath, soft and listless.
James' eyes darkened. "You keep saying Lucius' name."
Sirius pressed the heel of his hand against his right temple.
Lucius--in the library, touching, pushing, hurting... he couldn't make him stop. He didn't want him to stop. The gentle kisses between harsh and hateful words.
When? When had those grey eyes become frozen? Why couldn't he remember? All he could find was pain on top of pain. Years and years of pain...
"James!" Panic shook his voice and startled its listener.
"Hey, Sirius, I'm right here."
A tired sob escaped Sirius' throat. "Lucius--"
"--Is a ruddy bastard and isn't anywhere near this school. None of your family is."
Sirius shook his head, unable to find words. James spoke for him.
"I'm here. Remus and Peter have both been here. Hell, even Lily stopped by. We're all that matter, remember?
"We'll be taking our NEWTs next year. We'll be getting out. You could even come live with me over holidays, if you wanted. My parents adore you. You don't need your family."
James moved away slightly as Madam Pomfrey arrived with a vile of milky yellow liquid. "Feverfew, fenugreek seed, and capsicum. Bound to help that fever." She administered the draught and then turned to address James. "What he really needs, Mister Potter, is rest."
The bespectacled boy flashed her a roguish grin. "I know, I know." The cold hands were back against his forehead briefly. "Sleep, mate. And try not to think of your family."
Sirius felt his eyelids slipping shut against his will. James didn't understand. It wasn't his family. It was those eyes.
At one time, those grey eyes had been kind.
~fini~