Braver than the Bravest of Us (Sirius Black)

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As promised, here is the next one shot. This one was requested by the wonderful eadore, I hope I did your request justice ~~ 

Be sure to let me know what you think

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Gossip was the thing I liked the least. Often because I'd do absolutely nothing and still, find myself at the centre of the gossip. When people didn't like something, they could often go out of their way to avoid it. But, when it came to gossip, Hogwarts with rife with it and everywhere you went you'd come across some group of students – male, female or whatever – gossiping about someone. Even now, as I sat at breakfast waiting for the rest of my dormmates to join me, I could hear people talking about things they had no business discussing. This was the worst part about being the one to wake the earliest out of my dormmates; I was surrounded by gossip.

After a few months of being the only person from my dorm to come down for breakfast and waiting for everyone else, I'd taken to hiding, physically and emotionally, behind the newspaper. More often than not, I didn't care what stories the newspapers were writing about, but as I grew older the articles revolved more and more about the unrest we were facing because of the rise in Voldemort's followers.

The teachers wanted to shield us from the true extent of everything out there in the world, but once I'd finished this year, I would be thrust into the world out there. Facing the truth of Voldemort, even if only hearing the truth through newspaper articles, was important. And, if by reading the paper, I also avoided having to listen to the gossip, then that was an added bonus.

Turning the page of my paper to continue reading from where I'd left off, my ears perked up at the sound of my surname. I held my tongue, listening to whatever gossip was circulating about me, about my shrouded past. For now, I would listen, without looking up to see just who was talking about me. Just what was being circulated now?

"McEwen?" a voice belonging to one of the sixth years tested my surname, "her surname is different from her parents? Do you think they aren't her real parents?"

Someone laughed in response, "Helga, maybe her real parents gave her up? Maybe they didn't want her?"

"Really?" someone else asked incredulously, making me think that perhaps there was someone with sense. I became too hopeful too soon, "Because I heard that her parents are actually her uncle and aunt; her biological parents passed away when she was younger."

Finally, growing tired, I pointedly clearing my throat and the chatter ended. Closing the newspaper and folding it in half, I set it beside my plate of half-eaten French toast. Finally, after taking a moment to steady myself, I looked towards the gossiping group of sixth years who watched me with surprise, caught out – not expecting me to be the person hiding behind the newspaper. Not only were they not expecting me but they'd managed to forget that I was a Prefect as well.

Rather than berating them or lashing out at them as was permitted, I remained silent. They continued to wait, dreading what I was going to say. Instead, I smiled a smile that I'd heard so many people talk about before. People wondered how a smile, when presented in the face of so much ill-intended gossip, could still be sweet and truthful. I gestured towards the teapot beside them.

"Do you mind passing me the tea, please?" Surprised at the pleasant request, they shared a look as if expecting it to be a trap. They continued to look between one another and I gestured once more towards the teapot. "Please?"

"Oh -," the one nearest to the pot picked it up and held it out towards me. Her hand shook slightly as I reached for the teapot, "Here."

"Thank you."

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