lupercus @ 2002-08-20 01:51:00

Current mood:	curious
Current music:	'One Year of Love' - Queen

Hang the moon.
I seem to have caught the cold that's going round. Every Hufflepuff I taught today was a sniffly, dribbly mess. Poppy offered up some Pepper-Up Potion, but I left it for the children. I'll get through this the old-fashioned way, with all the orange juice and chicken soup the house elves can manage. And a lot of tissues.


Sirius has been avoiding me. I wasn't certain until I saw him in the north corridor earlier today, and he all but threw himself through a doorway rather than pass me by. I expect he thought it was an empty classroom but it was in fact a broom closet, yet still he closed the door behind him as I walked by. I heard it open again just before I turned the corner. He underestimates me, sometimes, as well as my hearing.

Unfortunately, Sirius is quickly learning that when you try to avoid someone, you inevitably shall run into him as often as possible. The castle - as expansive as it is - becomes too damned small. I found him by accident in the library earlier, sulking through the Mysterious Ailments section, then stumbled across him again just outside the hospital wing, and then once more in the hall outside Gryffindor Tower. In every instance he made his excuses - at least they're creative - and scurried off.

I expect it has something to do with our disagreement on Friday evening, but more to do with his outing with Severus. He hasn't said anything, but something's wrong. I can feel it. When he brushed past me in the library I caught his scent, and what was usually so distinctly Sirius was tinged with something else I can't put a name to. It's in his eyes as well, there's a shadow behind them that I don't think Azkaban put there.

I suppose I could just ask him, or come to my own conclusions, but I'd rather he just tell me, instead.

When I was still in school, I shared a room with four other boys. Two of them were James and Sirius, and so that meant I got no peace when I wanted it, and so I learnt to find it elsewhere. My favourite spot was in Professor Sprout's greenhouses, particularly Number Three. It was home to mandrakes, carrion flowers that smell of rotting flesh, man-eating plants, a very grabby Venemous Tentacula - the kind of things normal people would generally avoid. Not being normal people, of course, I found solace there amongst the plantlife, and even after twenty-odd years I still do.

It is strange then that I might find Sirius there as well.

Or rather, he found me. I'd forgotten that Sirius had liked coming to the greenhouses for quiet as well, and for a moment we said nothing and just eyed each other, warily. I expected him to run, so I asked him to stay. To my surprise, he did.

We talked, but not at length. He apologised for the incident on the hilltop and wondered if we might try again. Yet as earnest as he sounded I could tell that his heart just wasn't in it. He seemed distracted and unsettled, and in an effort to inspire him I pointed out the extremely phallic titan anum that Sprout has recently acquired. Sirius barely cracked a smile.

I had only just begun to worry when we left the greenhouse, and I caught Sirius's scent once again. It was still there, the echo of something beyond the usual remnants of coffee, Sleekeazy and motor oil. I still have no name for it, but in the back of my mind it takes a shape that's almost familiar. I didn't mention it to him, however. He seemed to have quite enough on his mind.

In the castle Sirius said goodnight, became Padfoot and trotted off toward the kitchens, and I went to the library. Madame Pince has most graciously granted me after-hours access, seeing as it's time for the sixth-year lecture on dragons, and I've got quite a bit of research to do on them. Oddly, Severus was in the library as well, drifting through the Restricted Section. The latest edition of Moste Potente Potions must have just got in.

He said nothing as he passed me by, all billowing robes full of stale dungeon air, which was just was well. I suddenly did not feel much like talking, and was very grateful to be sitting down. Severus left without a word, and after an hour of unsuccessfully trying to concentrate on Know Your Norwegian Ridgeback, I called it a night myself, and returned to my rooms.


I should go and get started on the owls I need to send - including one to Romania - and the rest of my research. I've a meeting with Dumbledore tomorrow, as well, about suitable venues for my lecture, and the matter of the harpy in the Forest. Not to mention I'm behind on marking these Niffler essays. So much to do, and all of it before Thursday. And me, with this blasted cold. Hang that damned moon!

There'll be no sleep tonight.

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