Chapter Text
The first time it happened, he threw up.
Not afterwards.
He threw up while he was still inside her.
It had pooled over the edge of the bed, sick and orange. Filled with the remnants of his dinner. He remembered staring at the mess, eyes unfocused and wet. His hair had stuck to the sides of his face, salty with sweat and tears.
Disgusting.
And wrong.
All of it was wrong.
------------------------
Sirius hated carrots. A fact he had never tried to hide.
Which is why he knew the generous helping on his dinner plate was a big fuck you from the House Elf who’d served his plate.
Sirius glared at Kreature and his dirty, old rag for a shirt. The little shit was pouring his mother a glass of wine. He looked over at Sirius and Sirius knew he wasn’t imagining things when Kreature’s mouth broke into a smirk he was trying to hide behind the wine bottle.
Sirius’s fist clenched around the handle of his fork.
Mother always expected a clean plate at dinner. Especially when there were guests.
So again. Fuck you.
This evening’s guests were especially talkative, making the dining room unusually cheery. Or rather, less suffocating, would probably be more accurate. At least for Sirius.
Walburga was playing the part of amiable host. Which meant she had no time for reprimanding Sirius’s table manners. Though she still glanced his way every so often with a glare that could’ve murdered a small animal.
But Sirius was very good at ignoring his mother’s looks. He’d had a lot of practice.
Especially this summer where dinner guests had become a nightly occurrence. Which was…odd.
Walburga and Orion weren’t what Sirius would consider friendly.
But, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth as Remus would say, Sirius kept his own mouth shut and tried his best to stay in his parents' good graces.
This evening’s guests were a repeat company. The Catchloves.
Belina Black, Walburga’s second cousin once-removed, was the granddaughter of Phineas Nigellus Black, a woman that Sirius only half-remembered from his heritage lessons.
She was a ditsy, unimportant wisp of a witch who’d managed to climb herself a few branches higher on the family tree when she’d been married off to Florence Catchlove. A Hufflepuff Pureblood heir who’d been almost a decade her junior.
The Catchloves weren’t a prominent family. Certainly not part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and Sirius couldn’t understand why his mother even bothered to speak to them. Let alone invite them into their house.
But again. Gift horse.
Belina Catchlove hadn’t shut her gob since she’d stepped through the Floo three hours ago. Her voice was high and nasally, reaching a fever pitch each time someone mentioned something she found particularly amusing.
Sirius’s head was pounding.
He sank lower in the armed dining chair, picking at the pile of cooked carrots with the tines of his fork. Chancing a glance up at his mother, Sirius found her thoroughly invested in a conversation with their dinner guests.
Perfect.
With a quick flick of his wrist, Sirius speared a bundle of carrots and dumped them unceremoniously on the edge of Regulus’s plate. From the corner of his eye he watched Regulus freeze, ice glittering across his face.
Sirius smirked. He flicked another few vegetables his brother’s way.
Regulus kicked his shin under the table, face pinched. But he kept his body still and posture rigid, facing forward.
Well, Sirius was about halfway done now. Might as well get rid of the rest.
So, ignoring the increasingly furious body on his right, Sirius took another quarter of carrots on the tines of his fork and placed them beside their friends.
Regulus’s cheeks were beginning to smolder, mouth twisted up in a controlled fury. But still, Regulus did nothing more than clench his fist a bit tighter on the handle of his fork.
Sirius grinned outright. “Better finish your vegetables, Reggie. If you wanna grow up big and strong.” He muttered with a teasing voice.
Regulus placed a palm on the table, finally breaking out of his perfect Pureblood facade, and turned to Sirius with an ugly glare contorting his face. “You are a child! Stop--”
“Regulus.” Their mother’s voice interrupted what was sure to be a fantastic host of insults.
Sirius watched the anger drain from his brother’s form in an instant. He dropped his hand down into his lap and turned forward again, face back to its usual blank expression. But Sirius could still see the fury burning in his eyes.
How cute.
Mummy’s little pet.
Satisfied with the few carrots left on his plate, Sirius finished the rest of his dinner and sat back to wait. Though he quickly grew bored.
The adult conversation at the other end of the table made his blood boil if he listened too closely.
Regulus was still livid and refused to even glance in Sirius’s direction.
So that left the Catchlove’s oldest daughter, Eden.
She was a perfect copy of her mother. Tall, blonde, and impossibly thin. Sirius had a vague memory of her patrolling the corridors as Head Girl in first year, but he’d been too young really to remember much else.
Blue eyes met Sirius’s across the table. They glittered with intelligence, though the same could not be said about her mother.
Eden smiled.
Sirius only raised an eyebrow. She’d been a Slytherin at school and on principle Sirius refused to play nice with any of the snakes. No matter how bored he might be.
Thankfully, Walburga interrupted before he’d had to put any effort into starting a conversation.
“Regulus.” She said again. “Go up to your room.”
Regulus stiffened all over, eyes going just a touch too wide.
Sirius frowned. Other than the short slip Sirius had caused, Regulus had been perfectly behaved. Regulus always behaved. There was no reason for him to be sent upstairs. Pudding hadn’t even been served yet.
But, like the good little pet he was, Regulus stood, pushed in his chair, bid the table goodnight, and ghosted upstairs. All without a word of complaint.
Silence fell across the room. It was heavy and thick.
A dark vice rose up in the air, breaking the room’s earlier cheer. No one was laughing now.
No one spoke.
Sirius swallowed thickly as a wash of adrenaline poured through his veins. Something’s wrong. A little voice whispered from the back of his brain. Something’s wrong.
That little voice was hardly ever misguided.
“Sirius.”
Sirius met his mother’s level gaze.
“Go to the study.”
“Why?” He challenged, folding his arms. He kept his chin high.
“Go to your father’s study, now.”
Something’s wrong.
“No.”
Walburga flushed with rage and embarrassment. She did not like to be made a fool of. Especially in front of guests.
Her hands hit the table hard, clattering silverware and plates as she stood. Her chair screeched against the wooden floor, smacking into Kreature. He went flying into the wall behind him with a short yelp of pain.
Sirius managed to keep himself from flinching, forcing a measure of cool composure under his mother’s burning wrath, even as she drew her wand and leveled it evenly in the space between his eyes.
Her robes dripped across the table, landing across glasses and dishware. Wine ran down the white tablecloth like blood, running rivets between plates and bowls.
Sirius kept himself steady and seated, glaring at her piece for piece.
“Do you understand now?” Walburga said between gritted teeth. “The measure of disobedience I must endure?” But, though her eyes were still locked onto his, Walburga wasn’t talking to Sirius.
“I understand, Mrs. Black.” Eden finally spoke for the first time that night. From the corner of his eye Sirius watched her stand.
“This will not be easy. He is stubborn.”
Sirius frowned. Confusion bubbled up in his stomach. The feeling was uncomfortable and unfamiliar. He didn’t like not knowing. Not understanding. Wasn’t used to it.
Something’s wrong.
Sirius finally looked away from Walburga when his father’s rumbling voice cut through the din. “He will learn.” Orion was staring across the table at the opposite wall. There was a glaze to his eyes. It were as if he was watching something no one else could see.
Orion raised a hand to touch the silver chain always looped around his neck.
“I don’t see why we can’t use the younger boy.” Belina interrupted. The cheery, ditsy woman was gone. Her blue eyes had gone hard and cold. Matching her daughter’s perfectly. “He’s clearly much more obedient. Easier.”
Walburga raised an eyebrow. “I suppose he--”
“No.” Orion interrupted. The fingers clutched around his chain had gone white with tension. He’d finally turned away from the wall and stared at his wife.
Walburga’s mouth pinched.
Seconds of silence ticked down, fraught with tension until finally Walburga rolled her eyes.
“No.” She agreed, though her tone suggested otherwise. “The deal will move forward as discussed.” Then, after a pause, staring at Orion, she added, “You have one chance with our oldest. If he is not ready by June of next year, then we will use the spare instead.”
Orion’s fist tightened once again, but he did not say anything else. His gaze had gone back to the wall.
“Yes, Mrs. Black.” Eden’s voice was firm. “I understand.”
“How old are you now, Sirius, lad?” A new, unfamiliar, voice asked.
The voice belonged to Florence Catchlove, a red-headed man with a striking mustache. He was seated beside his wife, hands clasped neatly atop one another on the table.
Sirius couldn’t answer. His head was spinning far too much to make sense of the simple question. What the bloody hell was going on? What were they talking about?
“Sirius.” Walburga said coldly. “Go to the study.”
“No.” He choked out, suddenly unable to catch his breath. He pushed back his chair, standing on two wobbly legs. “No.”
Something’s wrong.
Sirius met his mother’s icy look and then sprinted from the room. He crashed into the wall in the corridor, jostling a painting of his grandfather. The shouts of dishonorable blood traitor followed him all the way to the sitting room where he skidded up against an end table, knocking over a vase of half-dead roses.
The crash of shattering glass brought goose pimples up all along his spine, but Sirius leaped over the wreckage and had almost made it to the hall that would take him down to the front door when a call of, “Incarcerous!” stopped him in his tracks.
The spell hit Sirius square in the back, toppling him to the floor, and binding his body with a thick mass of rope.
Sirius struggled with the bindings even as footsteps padded evenly across the floorboards.
“Let me go!” Sirius shouted, trying furiously to get his arms loose, but it was to no avail. The ropes refused to budge.
Orion stared down at him.
Sirius glared. “Let me go!”
There was a moment, a fleeting breath, where Sirius saw a flash in his father’s eyes. Saw his wand twitch. Saw him glance towards the door that lay no more than two meters away. But perhaps he had imagined it because a second later Sirius saw nothing more than the usual apathy and emotionless stare he usually got from Orion.
“Just lay still.” Orion said, as he raised his wand to levitate Sirius’s prone body into the air. “If you lay still it won’t hurt.” The words sounded practiced and empty. Orion wasn’t looking at him anymore. His eyes were clouded and far away.
“What?” Sirius’s voice hitched. He struggled anew in the bonds, but they refused to move. “What the bloody hell are you talking about?” Panic was welling up inside now, burning just behind his sternum. “Let me go!”
Sirius shouted all the way down the hallway, terror growing with every step, but Orion did not let him go.
Orion did not speak again.
He only opened the door to his study, deposited Sirius on the floor, and left the room. The door shut behind him with a click that rang in Sirius’s ears.
“Sirius.” Walburga’s voice was cold.
Sirius refused to look at her. Couldn’t, really. Because he was much too concerned with what was behind her.
There was a bed. A large four-poster bed with white sheets and pillowcases.
Why is there a bed in the study? He wanted to ask, but the words got stuck in his mouth.
Her heels clipped a few centimeters from his nose as she padded closer. “Diffindo.” She said suddenly, making Sirius flinch.
But this time the spell only cut through the ropes, leaving not a mark on Sirius’s body.
Sirius sat up, trying his best not to seem frantic as he wobbled to his feet and took a few steps back. “Let me out.” He said, not even bothering to try the door.
He knew it was locked.
“You will be sixteen in three months.” Walburga said in lieu of a response to his plea. Her face was set in a small smile. “It’s almost time for you to marry.”
The words washed over him like a joke. Sirius actually laughed out loud, muffling the few manic giggles with the palm of his hand.
His mother did not laugh. “You will produce an heir to the Black family lineage. An heir that we will raise to--”
“What?” Sirius breathed, still half giggling. The bed behind her loomed. Tiny prickles of white had begun to float in the corners of his vision. “I’m not--”
The slap that followed his interruption shouldn't have come as a surprise, but Sirius still flinched backwards out of reach. One hand reached up to clutch at his cheekbone.
“You will marry Eden Catchlove one year from now. She and her family have agreed to begin the courting process immediately.”
“Mother--” He actually felt the panic then. It boiled low in his stomach, hot and greedy, spilling out into his blood. “Mother what are you--”
Walburga continued. It was as if he hadn’t even spoken.
“Tonight you will consummate the courting process to begin the blood bond before your union.”
Sirius actually felt tears prickling the backs of his eyes. Something animalistic leapt up and clawed at the back of his ribcage, painful and frantic.
“I don’t want to--” Another slap. Some of the tears slipped out. He pretended it was a reflex from the pain, but both of them knew better. “She’s graduated already. She’s twenty-one years old.”
Walburga gripped his chin with sharp nails. “You will give me an heir worthy of this family’s name.” Her hot breath washed over him, garlic and tomato sauce still on her tongue. “Your father was thirteen the day we proved our worth to this family. You’re lucky to have waited this long.” One of her nails slipped, marking a slice across his cheek. “Lucky your father is a pathetic, spineless fool or I would’ve married you off the minute you’d been sorted into that house of blood traitors and Mudbloods.”
Sirius didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what she wanted him to say.
The air in the room was starting to get caught in his chest, tightening like a rubber band.
This is really happening.
He’d heard the stories, of course. The whispers of how the Pureblood heirs were auctioned off like cattle, turned into perfect little suitors, promised to the highest bidding families. But he hadn’t thought it would start now. He was fifteen, he still had three years of school left for Merlin’s sake.
Finally, his mother stepped back. “Take your robes off. It’s time.” The voice she used was icy.
Tears actually spilled into his waterline this time. “Mother, I don’t want to, please--”
Walburga reached out and fisted a hand into the roots of his hair. Sirius choked on a strangled yelp of pain, clutching up at her wrist.
“If you do not follow my instructions. I will put you in a full body bind and let her do whatever she wants to you. Do you understand me?” Her voice was a low, dangerous hiss.
He was crying now. Everything was muddled, moving too fast. There was a bed in his father’s study. “Please--”
She shook him like a rag doll. “Do you understand me?!”
“Yes!” He hiccupped. Every breath he took trembled and came out in a wheeze.
The grip on his hair was released and Walburga stepped back. Her arms were folded across her chest. “Strip.”
Blood was roaring through his ears. It had been five fucking minutes. How had this much happened in five minutes?
But he knew his mother. And he knew that she was not bluffing. He knew that she would put him in a full body bind, and she would enjoy every second of it. So, with shaking hands, he began to undress.
His robes slipped off his shoulders and landed on the ground behind him with a soft thud.
Sirius closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at her face. Because he knew if he did all he would see was the glee burning in her eyes.
I would’ve married you off the minute you’d been sorted into that house of blood traitors and Mudbloods.
He loosened his tie. His fingers were trembling so badly it took him four tries to undo the first button of his dress shirt, but eventually, it followed his robes and fell to the floor.
Sirius paused then.
His vision was blurry with unshed tears when he finally opened his eyes. “Mother.” The word was a final plea.
“I don’t have all night.”
Sirius’s hands fell to his belt. Then his shoes. Then his trousers. He stood before her in nothing but his boxers and socks. He closed his eyes once more, waiting. But she didn’t make him go any further.
She hummed, voice full of something Sirius didn’t want to think about. “You look so much like your father.”
Bile rose in his throat. He tried not to think of his father. Thirteen years old. A fucking child--
“Onto the bed.”
Sirius could feel her eyes, heavy and hot, as crossed the room on two trembling legs.
The bed loomed in front of him, perfectly neat and clean. It practically glowed in the dim light of the room.
Sirius’s breath hitched, but with the threat of his mother’s wand at his back, Sirius sat precariously on the edge of the bed.
“If you fail to show that you can produce an heir, we will have no use left for you.” Sirius could hear a smile in her voice.
A tear soaked into the carpet fibers next to his foot. Sirius couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even fucking think.
Remus.
Something like a sob welled up in his throat.
What was Remus going to say? What was Remus going to do to him?
“Mère.” The whisper was pulled from someplace deep inside him. A place he’d buried so far down he didn’t think it had even still existed.
But, it did.
It did and he couldn’t stop the childish plea anymore than he could his own heartbeat.
Sirius finally looked up, trying to search her gaze for something, anything except the awful glee in the back of her eyes. “Mère, please don’t make me do this.” His breaths were coming in shallow gasps now, fingers curling into the sheets underneath him. “Maman, please. S’il te plaît.”
She turned her back and walked out of the room.
He was alone.
The child inside him started to cry.
Why was he always alone?
The walls were starting to spin. Dots crept into the corners of the room, piling onto the baseboards. He knew he was breathing too fast. If he were at school James would’ve probably dragged him into an empty corridor and made him do breathing exercises or some bollocks like that. But he didn’t have James. He didn’t have the bloody breathing exercises. All he had was--
The door creaked open.
Sirius’s vision went white. A high-pitched ringing overtook his mind.
Then she was there. In front of him. Naked.
Her mouth was moving and she was probably saying something important, something he should remember, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t fucking breathe.
Sirius blinked and then she was sitting beside him, a hand heavy and hot on his bare thigh, trailing along the seam of his underwear.
“--fifteen minutes.” Eden’s voice was nothing more than a mumble in his ear.
“What?” He choked out, staring at the hand. Her fingernails were a bloody shade of red. One of them slipped underneath the edge of his boxers, petting him gently. Goosebumps raced up his spine.
There was an agitated sigh. “Fucking, Merlin. Did you hear a single thing I said?”
“I--I don’t--”
Another sigh. “For fuck’s sake.”
Then her hand was on his dick and he shot to his feet.
“Wait--” His head rushed with blood, he couldn’t breathe again.
Eden had a single bleached eyebrow raised. “What’s the matter with you?” She patted the bed again beside her. “Sit down. We’ve only got fifteen minutes and you’re not even fucking hard yet.”
Tears welled up in his eyes. “I don’t want--”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you think I want to be doing this with some inbred school-boy? But you’re the Black heir, love, do you know how many women would kill to be in my place? Do you know how many women your parents have gone through? You’ve had about a hundred suitors since you were eleven, love. Don’t you remember your party?”
Sirius did.
His throat burned with acid.
There had been a ball to celebrate his birthday. To celebrate his acceptance to Hogwarts. All the Pureblood families had been invited, but they always were, so Sirius hadn’t thought anything of it. Hadn’t had any second thoughts about the lines of women he’d had to greet. Had to shake hands with. Or hug. Or kiss.
But that was normal.
Right?
“You’re lucky my parents were able to pay my way to the front of the line, or you’d be fucking Araminta Black. She was two days away from making her final payment, but I beat her out.” Her voice was high and proud, she wasn’t even looking at him anymore, her eyes glassy and focused on something not in the room.
Araminta Black was thirty-seven years old. She was his mother’s cousin.
“What?” The word was full of tears.
That night she’d kissed him full on the lips, but his mother had just laughed and said something about how handsy her side of the family was. The room was starting to spin.
Eden’s laugh blended with the one ringing through his head. Her voice was high and loud. Then a harshness lit her eyes. “Now take off those ridiculous boxers and sit the fuck down. You’re wasting time.”
Sirius could feel his heart, could practically see it beating, throbbing away under his ribs, shaking his chest with each pulse. “I don’t--”
“What? Are you like a virgin or something?” She laughed again.
The room was silent, save for Sirius’s shallow gasps at air. She was taller than him and the inches loomed between them.
“You’re kidding me.” Her eyes were wide and disbelieving.
Something hot like shame curled up in his gut. He didn’t answer her. He and Remus had, well…they hadn’t gotten that far yet. He hadn’t wanted to, quite honestly. He was fine with just snogging. And anyway, they’d only started dating a month and a half before they’d had to leave for the summer.
“Sweet Merlin,” She ran a hand through her hair and Sirius had to keep his eyes high. She was still naked. “What? So I’m going to have to do this myself aren’t I?”
She stood and in two strides she was three inches in front of him. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” Then her hands were at the elastic of his underwear and he was naked too.
Red flushed up behind his ears and he resisted the urge to cover himself.
“Seriously? You’re not even like, half hard or something. Do I have to do everything?” Then a hand was on his dick.
He tried to pull away, panic furling back in his vision, making everything blurry. “Wait--I--”
She squeezed. Hard. And a whimper was pulled from his throat, that hurt.
Eden’s face was lit up in a smirk. “Go sit down on the bed, love. Time is ticking here.”
Tears were burning the backs of his eyes. He hadn’t cried this much since he was a toddler. “I…” Mucus stuck to the sides of his throat, thick and choking. He swallowed. Her hand was still squeezing. “I--”
Her thumb moved up and down and a shudder ran up his spine, legs going tingly with something he’d only felt under the cover of night, alone in his room.
“C’mon, love.” She squeezed again. “It’ll feel good. I’ll make it good for you, I promise.”
Sirius’s vision blurred with tears.
And like a toddler, she took him by the hand and led him back to the bed, pushing him down, head shoved up against the pillows. The sheets were soft against his back. He was still wearing his dress socks.
“Let’s get you a bit more excited, love. Just lay back and let me work some magic.” She laughed a bit again at a joke that Sirius could barely hear over the ringing in his head.
Then she leaned down and he watched without really feeling as Eden sucked him down. And then he felt everything.
It was hot and wet and everything that he’d ever thought it would be. A moan flew from his lips before he knew what he was doing. He clapped a hand over his mouth and squirmed. She did something with her tongue that made his eyes fly closed and his head stretch back into the pillows. He was hard in three seconds flat.
But.
Panic still thrummed hot in his veins. He was still teary-eyed and something sick was swirling among the pleasure.
Eden popped back up, a trail of spit down her chin. He shuddered.
“See, love, nothing to be scared of.” She rubbed a thumb in circles and Sirius had to hold his breath, eyes squeezing closed again. “It feels good doesn’t it? It’s okay,” Her tone was slow and gentle, like she was talking to a child. “It’s supposed to feel good.”
“I…” He barely recognized the sound of his own voice. Eden leaned down again and sucked hard, lapping viciously with her tongue. His vision whited out for a second, back arching high off of the sheets. A high wine burst from his throat, it was too much. His stomach tightened with pain and pleasure. He was going to--
She stopped, hand squeezed tightly. He froze. “Ah, ah.” She sounded like this was some sort of game. “Not yet, love.”
The wave sunk back under, thrumming away painfully. He couldn’t fucking breathe. Tears spilled down his cheeks, soaking into the pillow beneath him. He stared up at the ceiling, tracing the wooden beams with his eyes.
Another kiss and his legs went numb.
She squeezed him again, and he squirmed away, hands coming up to pull her off. “Stop. Please, don’t do that--”
She slapped her free hand over his mouth. “Stop talking. You’re ruining the mood.” Eden muttered something under her breath and a sense of magic was in the air. A spell then. She patted his cheek and ran a thumb across his lips, grin pulling at her mouth. “Wouldn’t want a baby, just yet, love. Gotta at least wait until you’re out of school.”
He was cold and wet with her spit.
She tapped a few fingers against his thigh. “Looks like we’re ready, huh?” Another laugh. “Almost lost you for a second there. Forgot how sensitive virgins are.” She tugged her hand up and down him a few times and he gasped, blush curling around the back of his neck.
Then she lifted herself into the air, knees wrapping around his hips. “Ready?” She locked eyes with him, watching with a teasing smile.
Sirius shuddered and a pool of vomit rose up in his throat.
Then she dropped down, guiding him.
And.
And he was inside her. It was burning. Wet and sticky. She was pulsing around him, sucking him deeper. A strangled sound was torn from somewhere inside him. He twisted, trying to get away, but that only made it worse. She was moving. Up and down and around and he couldn’t fucking breathe.
That feeling was building again, heavy and all encompassing.
She rocked back and forth, eyes closed, panting. “Ugh, love, you are fun.”
Sweat pooled on his brow and he whimpered, tears spilling into his hair.
Eden moaned. “Fuck, do that again.” She stared down at him, mouth open and breath coming in short bursts. “You’re so pretty when you cry.”
She bore down around him and he moaned.
Then she was moving fast and he couldn’t breathe and panic, pain, and pleasure whirled up in him all at the same time. His hips jerked up to meet her. Then again, and again, and then--
He let go and warmth flooded inside her, around him, taking over.
She cried out, voice high and breathy. Her hips ground down as he pulsed again and again until, finally, it was over.
It was over.
He could forget it had ever happened.
He stared up at the ceiling again, trying to settle his heart. But it wasn’t really listening and then the panic was back because he was still inside her and the sickness was welling up and this time he couldn’t stop it.
Sirius leaned over the side of the bed and heaved up his dinner. Acid burned the inside of his mouth and throat, choking every breath he took.
Sirius stared down at the mess, tears dripping off the bridge of his nose. His dick was throbbing, it didn’t feel good anymore.
She was still moving. It wasn’t over.
Pulses of pain lit up each time she jerked. Why wasn’t it over? Why wasn’t she stopping? And then he cried, desperation overtaking the shame.
It hurt. It hurt so bad.
He pushed at her hips, trying to get her off, but she held him down. She wrapped a hand around each of his wrists and trapped them above his head.
Anger, red and persistent lit up her eyes. “You just came, it’s my fucking turn. Hold still.”
She twisted and rolled and jerked up and down. Sirius sobbed, terror welling up in his chest. He was on fire, knives digging into his core.
Eden rolled her hips and he screamed, pain lighting up his entire body. “Please, please, please stop--” The hand was back over his mouth.
“Shut up!” She heaved, hot breath washing over his face. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
Her hand was clammy and wet as it pushed against his lips. He cried silently until his eyes burned.
Then finally she was coming. She squeezed around him, pulling a final muffled shout from his lips. Hot, wet liquid surged and Sirius swallowed back another mouthful of vomit.
She lay against him, breasts pushed up against his chest, panting. He was still inside her.
“Thanks, love.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. The hand over his mouth reached up to tangle through his hair and she leaned down to suck a slow bruise into his bottom lip.
Salt licked at the edges of his tongue, but whether it was from the sweat or tears Sirius couldn’t tell. He turned his head to the side, pulling away from the harsh kiss. His eyes fell blankly to stare at the pile of his clothes on the rug. How long ago that seemed.
Had it really only been fifteen minutes?
“No cuddling, then?” Eden scoffed from somewhere above him. “Prick.” Then, finally, she lifted herself away and he was free from the heat and wet and pressure.
Numbness spread across his body like ice. The smell of his vomit wafted around them and he swallowed back another mouthful.
“Fuck, did you actually throw up?” She flicked his dick.
Sirius jerked like he’d been electrocuted. He ached. Another set of tears rolled down his face.
A breathy laugh came from somewhere above him and then there was a hand around him again.
“No!” He awoke from whatever haze had been produced. He gripped her wrist with strength he didn’t think he had and ripped her away. He curled into the corner of the bed, knees up to his chest. He was throbbing from behind the cage he created with his legs. His breaths came hard and fast. “Stop it!”
Eden was watching him with hard eyes. “Stop being such a bitch. Bloody hell, it's just sex.” She tossed a lock of hair over her shoulder. “We barely even did anything, you’re so melodramatic. Merlin, your mother was right.”
He buried his face in his knees.
They sat, still for a moment, and then the door creaked open.
Sirius’s breath hitched. He dug his nails into his arms, trying to stave off the panic.
“Eden, love?”
Tears pooled onto the skin of his knees.
Two sets of footsteps entered the room, but he didn’t look up. He couldn’t. The bed creaked as Eden stood.
He could feel himself shaking.
A voice he didn’t know muttered a spell he didn’t know and a wave of hot magic washed over him, he gasped and curled up tighter. The magic burned. It crawled through his skin, pooling into each of his pores. Invading his very sense of self.
The magic swirled lower and lower until it drained into his core, pulsing and throbbing in time with his heart. He could feel himself begin to harden.
Again.
Panic tightened his chest and he sobbed. It was supposed to be over. He did what they wanted.
“Sirius.” His mother’s voice was laced with a warning.
He wasn’t allowed to cry.
But he didn’t know how to stop it. Not anymore.
His hips ached.
And then, just as soon as it was there, it was gone. The magic washed away back into the air, leaving him cold and uncomfortably hard against his thigh. He sniffled.
“He’s done it.” That same voice said again.
He heard Eden scoff. “Right, like we couldn’t tell that from the cum dripping down my leg.”
Sirius flinched, nails biting into his knees. He wanted to cry again, but his mother was right there. He wasn’t allowed to.
“Honestly, Mother, this whole thing is so unnecessary.”
The voice, Eden’s mother, tutted like a bird. “Darling, it’s custom, you understand. We need to ensure it’s from him. You don’t know the lengths some of these boys will go to to get out of this. Why, one time--”
“You are marked.” His own mother interrupted the tangent. “He has marked you as his own. To ensure the blood bond is strong, you will consummate your courtship once a month until the date of your marriage. It is…”
Sirius didn’t get to hear the rest. The blood pounding in his ears was much too loud.
Once a month?
His vision was going black at the edges. He had to do this once a month? He lifted his head to stare blankly at his mother.
“What?” The question was nothing more than a broken whisper, torn from his lips by the panic overtaking him, but his mother reacted as if he’d slapped her across the face.
She turned to him, grey eyes hard as steel.
My eyes. He thought a little hysterically, a laugh bubbling up in his stomach. He was still half-hard.
“Excuse me?” She spoke with a soft voice, but Sirius could hear the danger.
He didn’t speak again.
She waited a moment, to ensure his submission, then turned back to Belina Catchlove.
Eden was still naked. He was still naked.
Belina gave him a glance. The look in her eyes was that of a lion stalking a wounded gazelle. She licked her lips. “He’s gorgeous, Walburga. Even if he is a blood-traitor.” Her body gave a small shudder before she turned to Eden. “You’ll have beautiful children my dear.”
Vomit welled back up in Sirius’s throat.
He looked to the rug instead, keeping his eyes on their shoes. It was like he was a fucking stud dog.
Sirius’s mind wandered for the next few minutes, absentmindedly rocking from side to side while the women talked as if he didn’t exist. But the comfortable haze washed away when he watched Eden’s bare feet pad back over to the bed, he tensed as they paused beside him.
“Give us a kiss, love.” She demanded, fingers knotting through his hair. “Time for me to go.”
His head was wrenched out of its comfortable nest and a burning kiss was chewed onto his lips. He sat, numb, while Eden moved him to her will. The numbness vanished though, when her free hand reached down and wrapped around him again, breaking past the pathetic barrier he’d made with his legs.
Sirius froze.
“Please.” He breathed, voice broken. His mother was across the fucking room.
She squeezed and tore a final watery gasp out of him. “You are mine, do you understand me? This is mine.” Her hand moved, twisting and rubbing him back to something half-hard. “I’ll see you next month, love.” She squeezed him one final time and a burst of tears rose before, finally, she let go.
Sirius buried his face back into his knees, locking his arms around his core. Trying to protect himself in the only way he knew how.
The door creaked open and three sets of footsteps padded away, leaving him in silence.
Sirius cried silently, unwavering in his own tears. Numb fuzziness had taken over his limbs.
Some time passed, though he wasn’t sure how long, and no one came back to get him. So, he slowly peeled himself apart.
Sirius glanced down and nausea rushed his head. He had to look away. His dick was red and angry against his thigh. And, he swallowed thickly, a hand shaped bruise was beginning to form, black and blue against the pale of his skin.
Sirius sniffled and carefully climbed to his feet, wobbling like a newborn colt.
When a quick glance at the door revealed nothing more than it had the first thirty times he’d done it, he scurried across the room. His boxers were lifted once more to his hips, he winced in pain each time the fabric rubbed against him.
He glanced at the door again.
With shaky legs, Sirius bundled his dress robes to his chest. He just had to--
The door opened.
Sirius froze, heart in his throat. His legs almost crumpled underneath him. He took a wobbling step backwards.
Orion Black walked through the door.
Sirius didn’t dare breathe.
His father paused, staring at his son with empty eyes.
Then, Sirius saw him soften, if only for a moment. There was a hint of pity in his father’s gaze, or something close to it.
They stood, no more than a meter apart, father and son.
Silence rang between them, as loud as a scream.
Until finally, Sirius, with his bottom lip wobbling, couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He crossed the space between them in three steps and pressed his face into his father’s dress robes, clutching them with white-knuckled fists.
Sirius wanted a hug. Wanted kindness. Needed a sense of safety.
And Father wasn’t cruel. He didn’t hurt just for the sake of hurting. Didn’t get satisfaction out of it. Not like Mother did. But he wasn’t warm either. Didn’t hug or listen or even speak. Father was a ghost. Silent, empty, and cold.
But only a moment later, just as Sirius shifted to pull away, Orion laid a warm palm on the back of his head, running a thumb gently along his hairline.
Sirius muffled a sob in the thick fabric pressed against his face. Everything hurt.
“S’il te plaît.” Sirius begged. The words poured out in a rush he had no control over. “Papa, s’il te plaît. Pas plus, papa. S’il te plaît, pas plus.”
Please, no more.
But it seemed Orion’s good deed of the year had been completed. Because he dropped his hand from Sirius’s head and pulled back.
“Clean yourself up.” The softness was gone as if it had never happened. His father moved past him, shoulders brushing together.
Sirius flinched away from the touch. He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and scrambled out of his father’s study, not daring to look behind him.
Heart racing, Sirius climbed the stairs, pain throbbing with every movement of his hips, and then stopped because--
“Sirius?”
He’d never heard his brother sound so unsure before. Regulus was peering down the steps, paused in the hall, inches from his bedroom. His eyes were wide and face pale.
Sirius froze. He was still dressed in nothing more than his boxers and dress socks, clothes clutched to his chest like a lifeline.
Regulus took a step forward, stopping when Sirius flinched back. “Why aren’t you wearing your robes?” He sounded so young. He was only thirteen. Only going into his third year of school. “What happened?”
Their father had only been thirteen.
Sirius welled up in tears. “Nothing.” He whispered, angrily swiping away the heat in his eyes. “Nothing happened.”
Sirius stormed up the rest of the stairs and brushed past his brother. He got to his room as quickly as he could, ignoring the worried questions behind him. Slamming the door shut, Sirius turned and locked the handle. Not that it would stop either of his parents, but the lock gave him a sense of safety, as false as it may be.
The clothes in his hands tumbled to the floor. He stepped out of his boxers and threw them to the ground along with his socks. With a flicker of unspoken, wandless magic Sirius set everything on fire.
He dressed quickly, then, in baggy sweatpants and a shirt from some Muggle band Peter took him to last spring. He curled up in the corner of his bed, back to the wall, buried under three blankets, even though he was hot, and watched the robes burn.