From the Files of Sirius Black: Catcher in the Rye
Alicia78
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or plot elements taken from Harry Potter or any thematic elements taken from Catcher in the Rye.
I think that everybody in this world can relate, in some way or another to Holden Caufield, myself perhaps more than others. Holden is frustrated with the world, feels trapped and has encountered tragedy in his past. Although we may not have suffer these things to the extent of Holden, we have more than likely come face to face with them at some point in our lives. It is our reaction, however, when we are into a tough situation that is the true deciding factor of whether or not we choose the path of Holden Caufield. The easiest path is to run away from our problems. That's what Holden did. That's what I did.
I ran away from home when I was sixteen when things became unbearable, just like Holden ran away from boarding school. I just couldn't take it anymore, I had been dealing with my parent's bullshit my entire life and I was fed up. Legally, I had to live under their dominion for another year, but they didn't care. Nay, instead of sending out search parties to try and find me, they blasted my name of the family tree and disowned me. I crashed with the Potters and everything was seemingly fine. Mr. and Mrs. Potter didn't ask too many questions-they were pretty cool.
Still, there was a gap in my childhood that would be missing forever. Before I went to Hogwarts, my life was a living hell. I spent most of my time hiding up in my room, unsociably avoiding my parents, my brother and their rich, pureblooded friends. At school, while other rejoiced at the thought of summer vacation, I dreaded it, knowing I would have to spend an entire summer in the house I detested so much. My entire life seemed to be leading up to the moment I turned seventeen and would be leaving forever. Growing up, I often imagined a picturesque vision of me walking into a sunset, trunk in hand, glancing back one last at the house I would never see again.
Things didn't turn out exactly as I had planned. You see, in leaving a year ahead of schedule, I was forced to sneak out in the middle of the night. The sun was already set, my trunk was at James's place and as I left I didn't dare turn back, for fear of seeing my mum staring at me through the window. I managed to avoid all contact with my family until two years ago, when my dad died and I received an unexpected call from my brother Regelus.
The sight of him standing at my front door way was awkward, to say the least. He had grown considerably since I'd last seen him during my seventh year. He was now in his final days at Hogwarts, if my calculations were correct.
"Hello, Sirius. You can have no doubts as to why I am here," he said to me solemnly. Damn, he had acquired the formal tone the rest of my god forsaken family carried, which I utterly detested. And he was quite mistaken, I had no idea as to why he had paid me this unexpected visit, which I relayed to him.
"Then you haven't heard the news?" he asked, sounding truly surprised.
"What news? Has our dear old Great Aunt Matilda finally kicked the bucket? Stupid old bat," I asked, laughing airily.
He did not laugh alongside me, however, but said, in the same formal tone, "No, it's our father."
"What about him?"
"He passed away a week ago."
"Oh," I replied, for lack of anything better to say. The truth was, I didn't know what to feel about this. I had never been particularly close with my father, but my feelings toward him had never been as vile as toward my mum or my grandparents.
"The funeral's on Saturday," Regelus informed me, clearing his through and interrupting my thoughts.
"Alright," I said, still deep in thought.
"Also, I was wondering if you might come home for a few days and help with Mum. She's a bit of a wreck right now, I don't know what to do with her really," he asked, sounding hopeful.
"There's no fucking way I'm going back to that dark house. And it's not 'home' to me anymore. In fact, it's never been home to me," I said, becoming angry. Although why this sudden urge came to me, I did not know.
"Your mate Dumbledore's made you hate us, hasn't he?"
"You see, that's where you're wrong. My opinion of you was formed long before I even met Dumbledore. I have despised you to the utmost extent my entire life. Besides, Dumbledore's not my mate"
"I saw your name in the Profit, standing up against all the changes that need to be made. You should be thankful I didn't show mum, else she would've had a heart attack."
"I wish she had. Besides, what does she care what becomes of me? I'm disowned, remember. Furthermore, you talk a lot of shit for someone who doesn't know what they're talking about."
"I'm not quite as ignorant as you think me to be, Sirius."
"Who are you getting your sources from then, mum or dad?" I asked, snorting. "What's the real reason you came here, Regelus? Because there was no way in hell you could've thought I would help out with Dad's wake."
"I came here to bade you fair warning, Sirius. Because even though you been an arse for the past five years, we're still family. Your alliance with Dumbledore could get you into serious trouble."
I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from retorting that he was the one who was in deep shit. For I knew right then and there that he was, or soon would be, a Death Eater-and, honorable as his intentions in warning me might be, Voldemort was the best known mind-reader. Anything I told Regelus, Voldemort could uncover, and it could be very dangerous to us if Voldemort discovered exactly how much we knew of his plans. So I resolved not to say anything in reply to Regelus. He left ten minutes later, apologizing for taking up my time. That was the last time I ever saw him.
I'm no longer sure whether or not I made the right decision, for I have just received news of Regelus' death. He had been killed by Voldemort, or perhaps another Death Eater, for treason. I wonder, if I had informed Regelus of the true nature of Voldemort, could he have escaped his wrath before it was too late? Was he simply uninformed of what Voldemort was capable of and what his plans were for the future? I find myself relating to Holden Caufield yet again-for I too, blame myself for my brothers death.
Wow it feels wonderful to have gotten that off my chest. Writing shit down, really makes you feel better when you're having a fucked up day, you know? Maybe Holden Caufield should've tried that. It works, I'm telling you people. Well, on a lighter note, I can safely promise you that my next essay will be seriously more uplifting and fun.
Well…
Until the next,
Sirius Black
A/N: I realize that it was displaying a different facet of Sirius' character, but do you think I was able to convey the same tone as in the first essay?