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Title: Self Pity
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ceredwensirius
Written For:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
grangerblack100
Challenge: Arrogance
Rating: PG13 for cussing
Pairings: Hermione/Sirius
Word Count: 730
Summary: The years where his charm and good looks won him favor with witches had faded from the lie of his guilt, fear and suspicion replacing what once had been his with just the crooking of his finger.
Author's Note: Ok, Jen, so yes, this goes over, so let me know if you wnat to remove it. I try very hard to obey the comm rules but Sirius just wasn't shutting up. It is less than a 1000 words. *smiles nervously*
The stars that twinkled gaily beyond the windows of the abandoned conservatory seemed to mock him with their apparent happiness, just as delighted as the house full of people if the softly thumping music was anything to go by. Well, he wasn't happy and refused to pretend just to please them. No one understood, no really bothered to try. He was far too complicated for them to comprehend, too much tragedy and horror for them to wrap their pathetically happy minds around. It was all too little, too late. Releasing a sigh, he glared at the stars and how they dared him to reach for happiness too.
"Sirius?" An irritated feminine voice sounded on the other side of his self appointed prison.
"Go the fuck away, Hermione." For some reason the nosey swot wouldn't leave him be.
The door opened, her figure silhouetted against the soft light from the gas lamps that lined the fourth floor hallway. Refusing to acknowledge her, to accept that she wouldn't obey his command he kept his gaze on the stars, mutinously cursing them for sending the source of his trouble to check on him.
"Come downstairs." It wasn't a request or polite or any of the things he felt it certainly should be given that he was her elder.
"I'll not take orders from you," he said gruffly, groaning when he heard the door close behind her, followed by quiet steps into the room.
"You're such a child," she said angrily, not half as afraid of him as he would like her to be. Not a clue what he was capable of and oblivious to the reason for his state of discontent.
He was off of the window ledge and to her before she could blink, shoved roughly against a wall as the breath left her body, knocking over the potted skeletons of long forgotten vegetation.
"Leave me be, you arrogant little bitch," he hissed through his teeth. He smiled as she struggled vainly against the strong hands pressing her shoulders into the wall.
"No," she whispered bravely, and he hoped she was truly afraid of him. He considered mocking her for questioning the wisdom of disturbing him and the phrase, 'let sleeping dogs lie' amused him for just a moment.
"Why not? Tell me what you hope to achieve with this encounter." He gave her a light shake and hoped she could see the desperation in his eyes.
"Harry needs you," she pleaded and the softness in her tone made his head spin a little. "Can't you see what this is doing to him? No one understands why you aren't happy! Your name is cleared, you're free to come and go as you please and on the night of your own party you sulk up here like a spoiled brat! You have everything you wanted!"
"Not everything," he rasped desperately, wishing he could make her understand how empty the dementors had left him and just how much he needed to be loved, how he craved affection and touch. The years where his charm and good looks won him favor with witches had faded from the lie of his guilt, fear and suspicion replacing what once had been his with just the crooking of his finger. How to tell this child, this slip of a girl that the only thing that seems real or matters is what James had with Lily and now that it is too late for him, and all his opportunities have gone along their merry way it is the only, oh, god, the only thing he wants and the one thing he can't have, not now, not ever. How to tell her that when he looks at her he imagines he sees his forever and the falsity of that hope is devouring his soul faster than a dementor could ever hope to. What woman in her right mind would have him? At twenty one she was hardly equipped to handle him.
"What then?" she asked and for a moment he thought he saw determination in her eyes. Then her hand rose, tentatively, and he saw her swallow before cupping his scruffy jaw with her small, soft hand. "What is it you need, Sirius?"
"Something I will never have," he whispered before releasing her, utterly defeated, returning to his seat by the window so he can curse the stars some more.
Author:
ceredwensiriusWritten For:
grangerblack100Challenge: Arrogance
Rating: PG13 for cussing
Pairings: Hermione/Sirius
Word Count: 730
Summary: The years where his charm and good looks won him favor with witches had faded from the lie of his guilt, fear and suspicion replacing what once had been his with just the crooking of his finger.
Author's Note: Ok, Jen, so yes, this goes over, so let me know if you wnat to remove it. I try very hard to obey the comm rules but Sirius just wasn't shutting up. It is less than a 1000 words. *smiles nervously*
The stars that twinkled gaily beyond the windows of the abandoned conservatory seemed to mock him with their apparent happiness, just as delighted as the house full of people if the softly thumping music was anything to go by. Well, he wasn't happy and refused to pretend just to please them. No one understood, no really bothered to try. He was far too complicated for them to comprehend, too much tragedy and horror for them to wrap their pathetically happy minds around. It was all too little, too late. Releasing a sigh, he glared at the stars and how they dared him to reach for happiness too.
"Sirius?" An irritated feminine voice sounded on the other side of his self appointed prison.
"Go the fuck away, Hermione." For some reason the nosey swot wouldn't leave him be.
The door opened, her figure silhouetted against the soft light from the gas lamps that lined the fourth floor hallway. Refusing to acknowledge her, to accept that she wouldn't obey his command he kept his gaze on the stars, mutinously cursing them for sending the source of his trouble to check on him.
"Come downstairs." It wasn't a request or polite or any of the things he felt it certainly should be given that he was her elder.
"I'll not take orders from you," he said gruffly, groaning when he heard the door close behind her, followed by quiet steps into the room.
"You're such a child," she said angrily, not half as afraid of him as he would like her to be. Not a clue what he was capable of and oblivious to the reason for his state of discontent.
He was off of the window ledge and to her before she could blink, shoved roughly against a wall as the breath left her body, knocking over the potted skeletons of long forgotten vegetation.
"Leave me be, you arrogant little bitch," he hissed through his teeth. He smiled as she struggled vainly against the strong hands pressing her shoulders into the wall.
"No," she whispered bravely, and he hoped she was truly afraid of him. He considered mocking her for questioning the wisdom of disturbing him and the phrase, 'let sleeping dogs lie' amused him for just a moment.
"Why not? Tell me what you hope to achieve with this encounter." He gave her a light shake and hoped she could see the desperation in his eyes.
"Harry needs you," she pleaded and the softness in her tone made his head spin a little. "Can't you see what this is doing to him? No one understands why you aren't happy! Your name is cleared, you're free to come and go as you please and on the night of your own party you sulk up here like a spoiled brat! You have everything you wanted!"
"Not everything," he rasped desperately, wishing he could make her understand how empty the dementors had left him and just how much he needed to be loved, how he craved affection and touch. The years where his charm and good looks won him favor with witches had faded from the lie of his guilt, fear and suspicion replacing what once had been his with just the crooking of his finger. How to tell this child, this slip of a girl that the only thing that seems real or matters is what James had with Lily and now that it is too late for him, and all his opportunities have gone along their merry way it is the only, oh, god, the only thing he wants and the one thing he can't have, not now, not ever. How to tell her that when he looks at her he imagines he sees his forever and the falsity of that hope is devouring his soul faster than a dementor could ever hope to. What woman in her right mind would have him? At twenty one she was hardly equipped to handle him.
"What then?" she asked and for a moment he thought he saw determination in her eyes. Then her hand rose, tentatively, and he saw her swallow before cupping his scruffy jaw with her small, soft hand. "What is it you need, Sirius?"
"Something I will never have," he whispered before releasing her, utterly defeated, returning to his seat by the window so he can curse the stars some more.
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From:
no subject
Is something that doesn't seem to often get played with. It seems like frequently Sirius gets pardoned and the world is in love with him again, and it's nice to see this complexity instead. Very human.
From:
no subject
I agree that too often we want to make things right and so invent a reality where he is fogiven in the eyes of their society without so much as a weird look. I imagine that would hardly be the case and that outside his close circle of knowns he would be shunned and mistrusted.
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I mean I know some people think Sirius is young at heart,(to put it one way)but if REALLY thought about, He really didn't get the chance to mature while still being the fun/prank loving Sirius (did that even make sense?) and being Serious about Harry, and maybe even could of have gotten his own wife and kids, you know.
I mean it makes you think.
From:
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"Leave me be, you arrogant little bitch," he hissed through his teeth. He smiled as she struggled vainly against the strong hands pressing her shoulders into the wall.
That line just won me over. Any Hermione bashing is LOVELY in my opinion!!! Especially in SB/HG!!!
From:
no subject
I am pleased that you liked this!
From:
no subject
I would like to read it, but if it's too much... then I put my foot down. But a little Hermione degrading here and there never hurts.... but too much.... well... I won't finish reading it.
Pass on the link!
And of course I loved this fic.....
From:
no subject
Anyway, I was more or less being hypothetical. Outside of rape fic which I don't care for I haven't read anything truly degrading.
I do think that his anger doesn't get touched on enough.
I have trouble with dark. I just don't find it when I read him in canon. Impulsive, irrational, hot headed? Oh, yeah... but where some see darkness I see depressed and depressed people typically hurt themselves but not others. Hurting others is a different pyschosis.
And this is quite enough rambling from me. :)
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