#sirius black x auror!reader

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Azkaban Prison - Sirius Black X Female Reader

Title: Azkaban Prison

Sirius Black X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Rita Skeeter (Mentioned), Harry (Mentioned), James (Mentioned), Lily (Mentioned), Pince (Mentioned), Voldy (Mentioned), and Reader's parents (Mentioned)

Requested by: Anon!

WC: 1,903

Warnings: Azkaban, sarcastic Reader, Auror Reader, very brief mention to drinking/partying, crying, sort of sad, set during the second book/movie, nicknames, banter, teasing, flirting, slight angst, and fluff

"Dropping off another one, Miss L/N?"

You gave the man at the security desk a stiff nod and an equally stiff smile, "Yep! I just don’t know where they keep coming from." You answered sarcastically as the witch you brought in was taken to her cell.

The man, whose name tag spelled out 'Stanley Parloose,' only grumpily nodded before he gestured for your wand. "Wand, please."

"Alright, don't get your trousers in a twist," You grumbled, taking out your wand and handing it to the man, who then sat it on the Wand Weigher.

"Is that all you are here to do?" Stanley asked, looking up at you, past the rims of his thickly-framed glasses; his bright blue eyes almost judging you as you rocked on the balls of your feet.

Looking off, you pretended to think about your answer before giving the man a grin, "I don't know... You wouldn't allow me to go up a couple of floors, would you?" You asked, raising an eyebrow as the man sighed heavily.

"You're the middle-tier Auror, Miss L/N. What do you think the answer is?" Stanley asked boredly, resting his head in his hand as he looked up at you.

You pouted slightly, crossing your arms over your chest, "I think the answer is no, but it's worth a shot every time." You muttered as the man snorted, looking down at his paperwork.

"Correct again, Miss L/N," Stanley teased, smirking as you scoffed.

"I could have you fired, Mr. Parloose." You snapped, watching as the man's smirk grew.

"You may work for the Ministry, Miss L/N," Stanley sang, laughing when you huffed, "But, you know that your name is not on the list. I can not permit you to travel up there for you are-"

"I'm not someone with strong ties or anything. Yeah, I know. It's bollocks." You tilted your head as you stared down at the man, "But... You know... I think I can have Rita Skeeter interview you some time..." You trailed off, watching as the man's eyes widened slightly before he cleared his throat.

"Rita Skeeter? You know her?" He asked, trying to hide the fact that he was very intrigued by the idea of an interview by the witch.

You smiled, knowing that you won this battle, "Of course, I do! She's a very dear friend of mine. We are like this." You emphasized, crossing your fingers together to show how close you were to the - annoying - woman. "I'm sure she'd love to do an exclusive interview with the security guard of the most formidable wizard prison, who also allows me access to the floor I'm not supposed to be on." You told him, his eyes widened even more as you stepped forward to lean lightly on his desk, pretending to examine your nails.

"You're bluffing..."

"Am I?" You countered, staring down at the man, gaze unwavering, "You know... She once told me that she had a thing for brunettes. And that she may or may not be single." You drew the fishing line, and Stanley took the lure.

"Fine. You can go up there for no more than ten minutes. No more, no less." He told you, pointing his quill at you with a less-than-threatening glare.

You grinned, smiling bright, "Thanks, Stanny." You sang, pushing off the desk and turning on your heel.

"Hey! Don't call me that!" You heard the man yell as he glared at you.

"Whatever you say, Stanny-boy!" You yelled back.

You quickly made your way up and up the tower of Azkaban, your mind elsewhere as you thought about your boyfriend. It had been years since you had last seen him, eleven years to be exact.

You remembered the last night you saw Sirius Black. You had just watched your two best friends, James and Lily tie the knot. You partied, drank, ate, and danced with Sirius and your friends. You didn't remember much after that, just you and Sirius flooing home, and crashing on the couch together. That morning, you got ready to visit your family for the month, packing your bags, eating breakfast with Sirius, and kissing each other goodbye before you flooed to your family home. What you didn't know was that that was the last kiss you and Sirius would share.

Oh, how you wished that you were there when they took him away. But you knew that there would be nothing you could do. That was why you became an Auror in the first place, rising in the ranks slowly to finally reach the point that you could see him again - albeit sort of illegally.

It was dark, and you stumbled slightly as you found his cell. Peaking through the small window in the metal door, you felt the air in your lungs escape you, and you cursed under your breath. Sirius sat in the corner of the room, legs up against his chest, arms wrapped around him, the sunlight shining down upon him from the thin window.

"Sirius..." You muttered, just enough that his head lifted at the sound of your voice, eyes rapidly flickering around the room - as if he had really gone insane, imagining your voice - before he found the small portion of your face peeking out from the window on the door.

"Y/N?" His voice was hoarse from lack of use, and you swallowed back the lump forming in your throat at the sight of him. You nodded your head, pushing up to rest your forehead on the metal door. You didn't say anything, afraid if you did, you would cry. You heard and watched him move, the scraping of his skin and his prison clothing against the wall as he pushed himself to his feet. His hand reached out for you, just brushing against your cheek before he almost flinched back in fear that it was all a dream, that you weren't real. "Y/N," He repeated, voice louder this time as if he was making sure that you were really there.

"It's me, Sirius." You responded softly, looking at him through the window, seeing his eyes staring right into yours. “I’m here.” You frowned deeply upon seeing how thin and frail he looked, "My poor baby, what have they done to you..?

"How are you here?" He asked, ignoring your question, staring at you with those gray eyes that you missed so much.

Licking your bottom lip, you gave him a small, nervous smile, "I'm an Auror... And I may or may not have bribed the security guard to let me up here." You admitted sheepishly, feeling your heart race in your chest as his lips twitched slightly at your confession.

"Oh, Y/N," He said, moving the tips of his fingers against your cheek, a soft chuckle leaving him as you leaned into his touch as much as you could from the window's small opening. "How come you haven't seen me before?" He asked, his thumb stroking your skin as your eyes fell shut.

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, feeling tears burn behind your eyes as you looked back at him. "Stanley, the security guard, is surprisingly hard to crack. If I had known that he had a huge crush on Rita Skeeter, I would've used that instead." You admitted, shrugging slightly as a small, breathy laugh left Sirius.

"It's been so long, my love," He muttered, "I haven't seen you in close to a decade." He murmured, a soft look appearing on his features as he took in every detail of you that he could make out from the terrible lighting.

"It has..." You agreed, "I missed you. A lot." You told him truthfully, giving him a watery smile as he looked at you with such sorrow and adoration it made you weak in the knees. "But, we will get you out of here, and I will take you far away from this place." You told him, your eyes flickering around his cell before they returned back to his face. "I just need time... I- I can get you out, I just need-"

"Shhh..." He hushed you softly, stroking his dirty thumb over your bottom lip, but you didn’t care, "It's okay, Y/N. You don't have to explain yourself to me. I know how the Ministry works. They've done a lot of wrong by me... But you... You will make it right again. You're too good for this world."

You couldn't help the tears that flowed down your cheeks as he spoke, his voice deep and soothing, "I love you, Siri." You whispered, watching as he smiled at you, and it was like the stars in the night sky.

"I love you too, my little treasure," Sirius said, voice soft and rough with emotion.

Blinking rapidly, tears burned the back of your eyes as you cleared your throat lightly, "Are you alright?" You asked, before huffing, shaking your head slightly, "That's a silly question. You don't have to answer that." You laughed slightly as you wiped away your tears, "Is there anything I can bring you next time? I think I can get Stanley to let me up here again... I can bring food maybe or-"

"You..." He responded, interrupting you, smiling when you blinked up at him in confusion, "You're all I need, Y/N... You and your little smile that melts me into a puddle every time I see it. Your soft hair that always smells like summer."

"Sirius," You sighed out, your smile growing uncontrollably at his words, "Became a poet, have you?"

"The thought of you has kept me sane," Sirius muttered, glancing around his cell quickly before looking back at you, "How's Harry?" He then asked, swiftly changing the topic.

"Little Harry?" You asked, "He's doing as good as he can, being the Boy Who Lived and all."

"Is he doing alright at Hogwarts?"

"He is. I try to visit Hogwarts as much as I can to check up on him. I gave him that picture of James and Lily for his twelfth birthday." You told him, "He's a lot like you, really. James too. He gets into so much trouble. Aside from the trouble You-Know-Who causes." You bit your lip briefly, narrowing your eyes playfully, "And that's funny coming from you. It took a lot of convincing to get you to even do your homework."

Sirius laughed, and it was a beautiful sound, and you would be lying if you said you didn't want to hear it more often. "You got me there… You’d never see me in that library. Pince hated me."

Your smile dwindled slightly, looking down at your Muggle watch, "I have to go... Stanley only gave me ten minutes." You whispered, biting the inside of your cheek, feeling like the worst person in the world for leaving.

"I understand. You do what you have to, treasure." He told you, though his eyes were begging and pleading for you to stay.

"I'll try and come back and see you. I promise." You muttered, reaching your hand up to touch his, your fingers just brushing against his own as he gave you a nod.

"I'll be waiting for you." He replied, and you could feel your heart in your throat as you smiled at him, taking one last look before you left him to go back to the floor you were not supposed to be on.

---

Main Masterlist | Harry Potter Masterlist

[pinchofhoney]

Hiii, could I please request post-azkaban sirius x reader while they're staying in Grimmauld Place, the reader is an Auror and is part of the Order of the Phoenix and comes home from working all day to find Sirius drunk and depressed. Thank you!

𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

post-azkaban!sirius black x auror!reader

world count: 1.8k

warning: no use of y/n, fluffy angst, hurt/comfort, loss of hope, mention of drinking alcohol, slight signs of depression

summary: Maybe there are wounds that prove resistant to the time.

a/n: hello, and thank you for your lovely request! i hope you will be satisfied with what i have written for you!!<33

taglist: @wolfmoonmusic @lonelywitchv2 @alexxavicry

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

"Bye, Aidan. I'll see you tomorrow," you smiled kindly at your coworker and adjusting your bag, which had slipped off your shoulder, you started down one of the corridors in the Ministry of Magic.

Walking away from your office door, a tired sigh escaped your lungs. Being an auror had always been the realization of your biggest dreams, but today marked one of the worst days in your entire career.

The day began with a jarring summons from the Ministry's emergency line. A sorcerer, suspected to be a Death Eater, had resurfaced with a newfound malevolence. Dispatches arrived, delivering grim news of a series of brutal attacks in a one of the small wizarding village. And of coures, as one of the seasoned aurors leading the brigade, the mantle of responsibility to untangle this dark puzzle was firmly draped across your shoulders.

Arriving at the village, you were met with scenes of devastation that could make even the bravest witch or wizard falter. The ominous insignia of the malevolent magician was etched indelibly onto the slate-gray sky, casting an eerie luminescence over the vicinity. The villagers were visibly scarred, bearing not only the physical aftermath of the onslaught, but also the emotional wounds inflicted. Hours were spent meticulously extracting tales from shaken witnesses, weaving their stories into a tapestry of dread. The narratives were harrowing – curses and hexes had been hurled with a chilling precision, leaving a trail of chaos in their wake.

The physical remnants found at the scenes of the crimes painted an equally distressing picture. It was abundantly clear that the wizard had honed their craft, preparing a deadly amalgamation of spells that left victims scant chances for survival. The results of these assaults lingered in your thoughts, each grim picture etching itself into your mind as an unrelenting reminder of the horrors this dark conjurer could unleash.

Yet, the challenges presented were far from over. The Death Eater seemed perpetually a step ahead, expertly setting snares and diversions to obstruct your progress. The dynamic transformed into a vexing and exhausting chase, where each lead seemed destined to culminate in a frustrating impasse.

As the day marched onward, the strain on your team became increasingly tangible. Tensions escalated, nerves grew taut, and the fervor to apprehend the wizard intensified. Your team pressed forward, unwavering in their determination, even in the face of the adversary's guile and potency. A mounting sense of desperation took root, fueled by the fervent desire to deliver justice to the afflicted and bring an end to the grip of terror.

And now, the weariness that had been slowly encroaching had deepened into a bone-deep fatigue. The lack of headway and the emotional toll of the day weighed heavily on your spirit. With steps heavy, you navigated the halls of the Ministry toward the exit, your stomach's protestations reminding you of your hunger. Breakfast had been but a fleeting memory, enhancing the anticipation of a shared dinner with Sirius in the comforts of your Grimmauld Place abode.

The thought of recounting your day to him, knowing he'd offer comforting words, wrap his arm around you, and gently press a kiss to your forehead—reassuring you that tomorrow will hold the promise of progress—made you feel impatient.

Since Sirius's managed to escape from the nightmarish walls of Azkaban, you both became inseparable allies, always ready to lend each other a hand. Well, mostly it was your role to help him. His grim tenure within the prison had inflicted wounds far deeper than the physical; the bars and Dementors had taken a heavy toll on his mental strength.

The scars left by Azkaban's haunting existence marked him in ways that went beyond the surface. The ceaseless shadows cast by the Dementors had gnawed at his spirit, causing wounds that cut to the core of his mind. The years of isolation had turned his thoughts into a maze of torment, an unending cycle of despair that seemed insurmountable. His own thoughts, compounded by the Dementors' soul-draining presence, had eroded his sense of self and purpose.

After his release, returning to the world was like an awakening filled with confusion. The noise of life's complexities clashed with the monotony of his prison life, leaving him adrift amidst a sea of overwhelming emotions. It was as though he was trying to put together a puzzle with many pieces missing—confused, fragmented, and unsure.

Your warm companionship offered a lifeline, a connection to reality that he desperately needed. Your constant presence gradually broke down the walls of solitude he had built within himself. After all, you were someone he knew as well as he knew himself—his love from long ago, from his school years, and your paths reconnected by complete coincidence. Through patience, empathy, and countless conversations, you helped him slowly navigate the turbulent waters of life after Azkaban. You became the guiding light that led him through the maze of his fears, showing him that life still held moments of beauty and purpose worth cherishing.

Day by day, moment by moment, you were there to listen, to comfort, and to remind him of his intrinsic worth. The scars left by the prison might have been permanent, but your unwavering support had a way of easing the pain and helping him rediscover the parts of himself that he believed were lost forever.

Stepping out onto a gray London street, you took a look around, briefly studying the faces of people as they passed by. Sharing a smile with a stranger in a coat who met your gaze, you turned in the direction of the flat. On your way, you made a quick stop at a nearby shop, procuring an assortment of snacks for a leisurely evening shared with Sirius, and as the tune of your favorite melody danced on your lips, you headed towards Grimmauld Place.

Upon entering, the familiar scent of dust enveloped you, and an unusual hush pervaded the space—a silence rarely encountered in this residence. Not even the creaking of the wooden floor beneath the begrudging feet of Kreacher reached your ears. Lowering your shopping onto the floor, you shed your damp coat, which had captured the essence of London's air, and, retrieving the bag once more, ventured deeper into the depths of the Black's house.

“Sirius?” you called out as you proceeded down the corridor, your voice carrying a note of hopeful expectation. Yet, the silence that answered was deafening, and a sense of concern began to creep into your thoughts. He was meant to be waiting for you at home.

Curiosity propelling you forward, you navigated the dimly lit spaces, the house seemingly holding its breath. Eventually, your steps led you to the kitchen, where you found him. He was sitting by the table, like a solitary figure amidst the shadows, his gaze fixed emptily on a distant point with a glass of alcohol in his hand.

“Sirius?” you addressed him once again, this time softly, your voice infused with a mix of tenderness and apprehension. As you drew closer, you noticed the distant look in his eyes, a reflection of a mind caught in the grips of haunting memories. The weight of his past seemed to hang heavily upon him, leaving his usually vibrant spirit, that you were familiar with, dimmed and worn.

With a sigh that carried a hint of sorrow, you reached out to touch his arm gently. “Are you alright?” The question was simple, but it held layers of understanding, a recognition of the battles he fought within himself.

He turned to you, his eyes finally focusing on your presence, and a fleeting smile graced his lips, though it was faint, like a star struggling to shine through the clouds. “I... I just had a rough day,” he admitted, his voice tinged with a mixture of exhaustion and vulnerability.

Stepping closer, you closed the physical distance between you sitting next to him, your concern palpable. “Are these voices returning again?” you asked softly, already knowing the answer. Azkaban had left scars that ran deep, and there were moments when those scars resurfaced with a vengeance, tormenting him with the worst moments of his past.

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the glass in his hand. “Yeah. They... they were louder today, more vivid.” His admission was accompanied by a sigh, a sigh that carried the weight of the pain he couldn't quite put into words.

Gently, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his. “You don't have to go through this alone anymore, you know,” you said, your voice unwavering. “I'm here for you.”

A mixture of emotions flickered in his eyes – gratitude, relief, and a lingering hint of the darkness that still clung to him. With a shaky exhale, he set the glass down on the table, his hand finding its place in yours, seeking the connection that grounded him.

“I just... I didn't know how to cope today,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. “The memories were too much, and I thought... I thought maybe alcohol could numb them, even if just for a little while.”

You squeezed his hand gently, your heart aching for the pain he carried. “I understand, Sirius. But you don't have to face this alone, and you definitely don't have to numb the pain with alcohol.” Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, a gesture of comfort and reassurance. “We'll face this together, okay? I bought some snacks, we will cook dinner, as we planned, yeah?”

For a moment, he simply looked at you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. Then, as if finally allowing himself to let go of the burden he'd been carrying, he nodded. “Yes, alright.”

The faintest of smiles tugged at the corners of his lips, a testament to the strength he drew from your presence. With a deep breath, he let go of the glass, leaving behind the fleeting comfort it provided. Your touch, your words – they were the lifeline he needed more than anything else in that moment.

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze once again before letting go, your fingers interlacing for just a brief moment. Then, with a small grin, you stepped back, your resolve unwavering. “Great. Let's start with dinner then. I got all our favorites.”

A spark of interest ignited in his eyes, a flicker of the Sirius you knew and loved. “All our favorites, huh? You spoil me, you know that?”

You chuckled softly, the sound carrying a touch of playfulness. “Well, someone's got to take care of you, right?”

With a playful wink, you turned towards the direction of the kitchen, beckoning him to join you. “Now, let's see if we can create a masterpiece out of these.”

[bobluvbot]

late night cravings

pairing: sirius black x afab!reader summary: you sneak off the night for a cheeky midnight snack, hoping sirius won’t notice (spoiler alert: he does, and he’s sulky about it)  wc: 4k cw: pregnancy & baby talk, descriptions of food and eating, brief allusions to sex (not directly stated), no physical traits of reader specified but sirius can hold things out of reader’s reach  a/n: so i had a lengthy angst fic for sirius’s debut on my blog and im halfway done on it but i cant seem to finish it bc it sends me to a depressing spiral each time <33333 so pls enjoy a very self-indulgent domestic excessively fluffy blurb with my beloved <33333 p.s this is not proofread so plz ignore mistakes ty <3

opening the tomato salsa jar turned out to be the hardest part. 

back in bed, you thought the trickiest part of your late night escapade from sirius black was his long limbs wound up tight with yours, even in low light of the small nightlight in the corner, you could still make out the intricate script and designs following the curves and dips of his strong arms, holding you close to his chest. 

you had it committed to memory by now, having explored sirius’s body well enough to memorize the way his skin feels against yours, with heartbeats and breaths falling in sync without much effort. 

judging by the way his breathing gets heavy after every exhale and the little snores that escape in between, you knew he was beyond knackered. it was day five of sirius’s new job as an deputy director at the auror office. the day he learned about the promotion was pure unadulterated happiness. after letting you know through an express owl, you mustered up enough vigor available to your seven months pregnant self to get out of the house and go to the local shops to get party supplies and food to celebrate sirius’s achievement. 

Coming in third out of the list of things he genuinely loved in this life, after you and his luscious locks of course, was his job as an auror. young sirius had never thought in his wildest dreams that he’d work at the ministry, much less actually enjoy it. can’t really blame sixteen year old sirius, starting an underground rock band with the marauders seemed like the perfect thing to do after gruelling hours of studying at hogwarts. 

defense against the dark arts came to him naturally, with some counterspells like second nature to him as being exposed with use of dark magic young gave him no choice but to grow up quickly and defend himself from the excruciating pain or the mind control that was from his own family’s doing. Winning the first wizarding war alongside his friends and found family has solidified sirius’s calling in eradicating the use of dark magic and making sure the next generation can have a safe and normal life without the looming threat of a megalomaniac sorting people with their blood status and taking over the wizarding world. 

that night, sirius walked into a dark and eerily quiet home that had his senses on overdrive. but when the lights turned on and he saw familiar faces of his loved ones all beaming with pride, and there you were in the center, looking ethereal and round and all his, with his favorite red velvet cake on hand and a ridiculously big balloon that says ��congratulations” tied to the candle, he could have melted in a syrupy mess of gooey happiness right then and there if he hadn’t caught himself together last minute.

Sirius had thought– that after you agreeing to go on one date with him to hogsmeade, winning the quidditch cup and seeing the proud look on minerva’s face, going home for christmas break and euphemia welcoming him with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug, remus teaching at the very same classroom you all were in years back, james and lily’s first kiss at the altar, holding little baby harry in his arms, you walking down the aisle with a bouquet of peonies in the most beautiful dress, and when you held his hand that one night and told him that you were expecting—- that he knew of love. but you do something extraordinary that has him scrambling to add to the endless list of why you’re the love of his life. he was so focused on you that he wasn’t prepared to catch pure muscle of james’s body as he flung himself to tackle his best friend in a hug. luckily, remus with a party hat was aptly standing between a toppling sirius and the living room wall, and he singlehandedly saved the two from creating a huge hole in the drywall. 

this was the life, sirius had thought after many hours of partying celebrating and eating, when he laid beside you in bed, limbs tangled, sated and dizzy and warm as you both came down from your highs. and he gets to spend it with you.

but as fun and exciting sirius’s new job is, it entailed an increased amount of responsibility as he was assisting the head auror. his least favorite part of the job was the boatloads of paperwork he has to deal with. An express owl almost dropped a howler letter into the soup you were making for dinner earlier that day and you opened it up panicking thinking it was an emergency. But no, it was just sirius whining that his hand hurt and is about to fall off and that he needs you to kiss it better. 

You did eventually, and one thing led to another and here you were, tucked in your husband’s warm embrace. you could stay here forever, only separating to drink water and bathroom trips, but the gnawing urge to eat something savory, sweet, tangy, and crunchy has possessed your entire being, the only way to quell it was to get up and go to the kitchen. the baby doesn’t seem to have a semblance of time yet, a fact you both envied and despised, because the clock on your nightstand said it was 3:48am in bold red numbers. A few months ago, you’d never be caught dead awake at this time, taking your precious sleep time seriously. The man himself would poke fun at you and say you’d gladly sleep through an earthquake or a housefire just as long as you get your seven to eight hours of sleep per day, and despite of your assumed role of contradicting and arguing with spontaneous and stubborn sirius, you had to agree.

But this was not about you anymore, or at least not quite yet for a good seventeen years, so you untangle yourself from sirius and your perfectly warm and cool side of the bed and waddle down the carpeted stairs, careful not to set foot on the creaky step that might risk waking sirius up. You need your secrets too, and you’re not in the mood to share food.

Grateful for the heavens that you and sirius stocked up on groceries two days ago, you had a wide selection of random items to munch on. A few days ago, you were introduced to the idea of a fluffernutter sandwich while scrolling through the short videos on your feed. Peanut butter and marshmallow fluff as spreads on their own was something you didn’t mind eating, but both together in a sandwich? You were enthralled, and the only way to quell the curiosity was to make it. So you did. 

You shovel and slather more than enough spread on each slice of bread, though you might have used the same spoon on both jars.. but who’s to tell you off otherwise, your snoozing husband upstairs? pfft. 

Smiling happily as if committing a particularly naughty crime, you place the spoon in your mouth, licking off the gooey mixture as you place the sandwich on a piece of paper towel (yes, you take the no dishwashing tonight seriously) on the table. humming, you mull over what to prepare next.

The baby needs something savory and tangy, but you’re not particularly keen on going through all the effort of heating up the soup from dinner, not to mention the amount of cutlery and dishes you’ll use for that, so you zero in on the tostada shells you chose rather than tortilla chips because its much more crispier. 

Opening the fridge, you see the laughing cow on a round packaging and decide its the one, so you grab two cheese wedges from it. 

Sirius had argued that the next aisle had actual, real blocks of cheese with a variety on display and that there was no point in getting artificially flavored ones. But you’ve gotten really good at giving him the stank face, which inadvertently ends 75 percent of nonsense bickering before it even starts; and since you’ve started showing more and more, sirius has admittedly gone softer on you, not that he was ever more but a pushover your entire relationship. Merely widening of eyes and a jut of your lower lip, even adding a slight tremble or two during times where you did actually fuck up, sirius can’t hold his stance longer than a minute before sighing and taking you in his arms. he might call you out for being a brat at times, but there’s no denying he loves it. And so the artificial wheel of cheese wedges got purchased and bagged home, and you’re meticulously spreading it over the golden shells, leaving little to no gaps of it bare. 

Laying it on another paper towel, your heart gets giddy on your chest knowing you’re in for a treat tonight. But not quite time to start munching, the baby reminds you that you still need something tangy to complete the meal. So comes your big predicament, should you get dill pickles or tomato salsa? 

It took you ten seconds too long of weighing down the pros-and-cons of choosing one and feeling like you made the wrong choice if you end up not liking it. It doesn’t help that the pregnancy hormones make you more anxious and tend to put you always on the verge of tears. So when the not-so-groundbreaking idea of just eating them both hits you, you feel the weight slide off your shoulders as you sigh. Because again, who’s gonna tell you that eating pickles this late at night can give you bad acid reflux, your snoozing husband? Pfft.

Snacking on some, you do manage to pick out the juiciest looking pickle chips and lay them atop of your tostadas. You and the little one are beyond excited to dive in. It’s looking like a mini upside-down pizza with the cheese spread first then the pickle as toppings. Only thing left now was the the tomato salsa slathered on top to seal the deal. 

Opening tight lids wasn’t an issue for you before, in fact, you took pride when friends hand you a jar or bottle to open because you could do it in a breeze. Chances were, the lid wasn’t even screwed on that tight, you were just built different, you’d say with a shrug once you give the items back. So when the tomato jar doesn’t budge after two attempts, you get puzzled.

Maybe your hands were slippery? You wipe them down with a tea towel and try again. No.

You weren’t holding it tight enough? Fingers held taut against the lid, you try three times. Still no.

Determined, you try different positions before letting the jar go, shooting it glares as if it’d get intimidated and just open up for you. You were also getting lightheaded, and passing out on the kitchen floor due to excessive stimulation of your vagal reflex because you were too stubborn to use magic or wake your husband up to open it for you doesn’t seem like the best way to spend the early Tuesday morning hours.

Magic was even out of the option (well, in your brain it was), because your wand’s tucked beside sirius’s on your nightstand, and frankly, you don’t have the patience to drag yourself upstairs just to flick a utility spell to open the wretched thing. So you do the next best option: lose hope. 

The disappointment was mutual between you and your baby. And the acid reflux did start to kick in, making your stomach grumble in both hunger and pain. This was all going so well until it isn’t, tears began to make its way up to your eyes.

“See, this is what you get for being greedy and eating all snacks by yourself,” sirius huffs behind you, deep voice still raspy with sleep. You didn’t even hear him getting out of bed and coming down the stairs, that’s how preoccupied you were with opening the jar.

He grabs the container away from you to open it, but not without throwing a scowl at your direction, handsome face contorted with furrowed eyebrows and downturned mouth, enough to express that he felt betrayed by this whole ordeal. If you were in a better mood, you’d poke his sides and tackle him playfully, teasing him for being sulky. But for now, you need the jar opened so you could eat in peace. You’ll deal with the sharing food issue later.

“t wasn’t supposed to take long,” you mumble, caught off guard and refusing to make eye contact, pretending the fridge magnets beside sirius’s head is ten times more interesting than his face. You don’t miss his raised eyebrow and snort at your response. 

The second attempt comes and he opens it with a satisfying pop. your mouth falls agape, eyeing the *now accessible* tomato salsa dip in disbelief. What the hell? 

And you couldn’t even take the smug grin spreading across sirius’s face by the millisecond. Refuse to. You try to snatch the open container away from him but he holds it higher and out of reach, making a show of puffing his chest, flexing his biceps, even giving it a kiss. This is all James’s doing, you need to have a talk with Lily soon about keeping these two separated.

“Sirius!” you try to plead your way out. the trademark innocent, pouty expression settles on your face like a second mask, hoping he’d go down this easy. 

It doesn’t work. He just chuckles, mocking your pleas and face while his free hand sneaks up and pinches your unsuspecting cheek to tease you further.

You yelp in mock outrage and swat his hand away, trying your best to keep your displeasure firm on your face, but you feel the giggles coming up. “This is why I sneak out alone to eat, you’re such a bully,” you huff, but take a seat in front of your makeshift spread. 

Sirius places the jar near you, but not without poking your exposed sides, armed with the knowledge that the easiest way to get you laughing (and eventually conceding in an argument) is knowing where your tickle zones are. “Oh yeah,” he drawls, plopping himself beside you. “That’s also why you’re the only one waking up with an upset stomach, stinking up our bathroom so early in the morning.”

Now this one got you appalled, embarrassed, disturbed, basically hit with all the feelings. You’ve been living together long before you got married, and he never brought up this issue until today. “That’s it. I’m leaving.” He makes a move to snatch the sandwich away but the embarrassment on your cheeks made you more agile, swatting his hand away and shielding the sandwich with your hands. “After I finish my meal,” you continue, shooting him a glare.

But see, one of the things that drove you nuts even way back at Hogwarts, was how Sirius Black mostly managed to outsmart you or be one step ahead of you in everything. After you turned him down without much thought whatsoever despite his grand declaration of interest, Sirius took it upon himself to show you (1) that you made a mistake for rejecting him, (2) that his ego won’t let you embarrass him like that again, (3) and that you won’t get rid of him that easily. Once he set his eyes on you, you were face to face with him in everything: grades, OWLs/NEWTs scores, Quidditch plays and bets, wins at the duelling club, even with the fucking gobstones tournament. He never let you catch a break.

Things were surely different now, since you vowed to be with him in sickness and health and untill death parts you both– hell, you’re carrying his child. So you figured maybe, maybe, he’ll let you catch a break this time. Let you eat in peace as you mull over his bathroom comment and how you’re going to get him back. 

But again, no. Unlike you, Sirius remembered to grab his wand from the nightstand. Not even batting an eye, he says nonchalantly, “Accio sandwich.” And the fluffernutter you protected with all your physical might managed to escape your watch, and land gracefully on his waiting palm. 

What irritated you more from this whole ordeal? The prodigal auror that climbed his way up the ranks and became the youngest deputy director, fully capable of complex spells and wielding different kinds of magic, felt the need to do a verbal Accio spell just to make a point to you.

Out of words, you just stare at him blankly. Too stunned to even cry in frustration because you knew you made a conscious, willing choice to be with this man. 

Maybe your best guilt-tripping expression comes best when you’re not trying. Color drains from his face when you remained silent and he scrambles to take a bite off the sandwich before handing it back to you, or rather placing it on your limp hand as you refuse to acknowledge it, still too hurt to budge. “‘m sorry, baby. Just wanted to eat with you since we didn’t get to earlier.”

He did arrive later than usual, deciding to finish the stack of case files and paperwork so he won’t have to sift through them again the next day. There were plans to wait for him before eating, but when the jitteriness and slightly nausea started to kick in, you had no choice in the matter. Sirius had been sulky and clingy the moment he got home, and as compromise, you stayed to watch him eat; listening and reacting animatedly as he ranted about his stressful day.

So you cut him off some slack, also exhausted from all the emotional stimulation sirius brought since he woke up. As a silent peace offering (also because you’re not ready to say sorry to his face), you slide the tostadas within his reach and finally take your bite of the goddamn sandwich. It was good, tasted as expected, sweet peanut butter. You’d probably have it again as a drunk at 3am meal.

Sirius also went and got snacks of his own: microwaved popcorn, pickles, toasted bread slathered with butter, and grapes. Together, you munched on the little spread of random food you could find in your kitchen at 4am in comfortable silence, which is surprising after the earlier bickering. No matter how cheesy it sounded in your head, sirius was the only person that can drive you to the brink of insanity and right back. You were in for a hell of a ride for the foreseeable future; and while there’s a lot of uncertainty right now and changes to be made when the little one gets here, you’re beyond happy that you get to do all this with him. 

Sleep was beginning to creep up on you. Of course he notices this right when you do, so a warm arm wrapped across your back urges you to settle on his lap, bodies melding into the familiar crevices like puzzle pieces, though you both had to adjust certain angles to accommodate your growing belly. You sit like this for a while; your head tucked securely in the crook of his neck, steady breaths lulling you to sleep, while sirius’s hands instinctively finds its way under your sleep shirt and on the natural curve of your belly, lithe fingers stroking and drawing soothing circles anywhere he could reach. 

you wish you could stay like this forever– cozy and soft and safe– but alas, you were carrying sirius black’s offspring. the baby decides to reward you with a round of kicks, probably giddy after feeling their father’s touch. Sirius chuckles and coos at your bump, while a muffled groan leaves your lips from the sudden onslaught of movement, but still refusing to move from this comfortable position.

Smooth cold lips touch the side of your forehead and you relish in the feeling. “Does it ever hurt, love? All that kicking and wiggling?” 

“Not really,” a content sigh leaves your lips. “Feels strange at times, seeing your belly move on its own.” 

To prove your point, two tiny bulges make a split second appearance just above where Sirius’s hand lay. His thumb soothes the area lovingly.

“Definitely getting stronger though; Lily told me during the later months, harry for some reason loved to kick downwards, making bathroom trips more frequent than it already is. Not excited for that.”

He presses kisses on your forehead, temple, hairline, anywhere he could reach without moving too much. “Things that you do and endure for this ‘lil troublemaker,” sirius murmurs. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, you could feel his body reverberating with awe and fondness. You try to bask in it for as long as you could, but a passing thought makes its presence known to you again.

“Do i really make the bathroom stink?” it comes out whinier than you intended it to be but you just had to know for peace of mind. 

Sirius’s whole frame vibrates as he tries to stifle his laughter, taking you with him. He’s laughing at your expense but you feel your own giggles brewing in your belly. You try to hold it in for longer, preserving some self respect. “A little bit,” he says solemnly. You groan, earlier mortified feeling returning in full swing. It triggers another round of chuckles.

“But dove, it’s nothing that my deep love and adoration for my lovely strong hot and sexy wife can’t handle.” He says assuredly, and you curse yourself for being so down bad for this man as blood rushes to your cheeks from his words. Good thing it’s dim and your face is still tucked in the crook of his neck. 

You do pinch his arm in response, and both your laughters compliment the comfortable silence. 

“Although,” he says after a while. “The betrayal of you eating without me still hurts.” 

“Siri.. i’m sorry,” you mumble. “‘y looked so tired, Didn’t wanna wake you up.”

He tuts and doesn’t say much after that. In sirius dictionary, this means he just wants some affection from you— for you to dote on him and coax out his forgiveness, even if you both know he’s not really mad; judging by his arms still wrapped securely around your frame and steady breaths that tickle and fan on your bare skin. 

So you mimic his actions from earlier, planting tiny kisses on his neck, collarbones, jawline, anywhere your lips could reach. Kissing his cheek seem to do the trick, his fake scowl quickly coming undone as a bashful smile breaks through the frown, and his tiny dimple you love so much making an appearance. The muggle maternity books did say dimples are genetic, so an image of a little Sirius running around and smiling up at you with those dimpled cheeks is a warming thought. 

“I am charming all the lids to be stuck at night as soon as i wake up tomorrow for work.” You poke a sensitive spot on his side, making him jolt, but you couldn’t resist laughter as it bubbles out of the surface. “You’re insufferable, I can’t believe I married a psychopath.”

“And you let him knock you up too. I’d say it takes one to know one, hm?” 

[wingedhallows]

"i'm older than you think." ; sirius black

pairing: sirius x reader | 1k words plot: Sirius is taken aback that you're actually older than you look. prompt: "I'm older than you think." authors note: just a little something that came to me some nights ago.

navigation

The Black’s family home was lively, more than what you expected. Two redheads rushed past you as you brought a hand through your hair. The strong wind had messed with it. 

“Get back here you two!” a woman, also with red hair, yelled after them.

“Oh, hello, dear.” she spoke, her voice gentler.”Hello.” You answered. “Y/N, there you are.” Tonks' voice came from behind the red headed woman. A small smile spread on your face as your friend approached. “For a moment I thought you wouldn’t come, come on.” 

She engulfed you in a hug and rubbed your back in a comforting manner. With an iron grip, she dragged you into the kitchen. “I didn’t know we would have another guest, here, let me fetch another set for you.” The woman chuckled as she pushed past you two. “No need-”Don’t try, that’s Molly Weasly, just eat.” Tonks laughed as she pulled you through the door.

Around the big kitchen table sat a few more red heads, some teenagers and adults.

“Everyone, this is Y/N L/N. She’s one of the greatest Aurors I know and hopefully, after tonight, a member of the Order.” Tonks announced, a comforting hand on your shoulder as she pushed you towards the table. A man, curly hair framing his handsome bearded face and a sly smile beaming towards you, held his hand out for you to take. 

"Sirius Black, the owner of this lovely house. I’m glad a more beautiful person is joining us. Nice to meet you, love.” He spoke before he kissed your hand with a grin on his face. A certain heat crept onto your cheeks as you shot him a grin yourself.

“Nice to meet you as well, Mr. Black. This house is indeed very lovely, so bright and colorful.” You chuckled. His eyebrows shot up and a laugh escaped his mouth. 

“And she’s got humor, merlin.”

“Holy, get a room.” Tonks spat with widened eyes. She grabbed your arm and pushed you down onto a chair. “Here you go.” Molly grabbed your shoulder and placed a bowl of food in front of you. Without another word of refusal you ate what Molly had given you. You didn’t miss the many times Sirius had glanced your way.

After the meeting and your agreement to join the Order and help Harry Potter, Sirius’ godson, to help defeat Lord Voldemort, Remus Lupin had asked for another drink and you agreed to stay. Harry and his friends had gone upstairs an hour ago claiming to go to bed, though you believed otherwise. Sirius had seated himself across from you.

“So, you’re an Auror?” with a sip from your cup you nodded. “I became one right after graduation, I’ve been one ever since.” You shot him a smile and reached for your pack of cigarettes. 

With a small smile on your face you held out the pack for him. “Want one?” he shot you a smile and nodded his head. “I’d love one.” you chuckled. After lighting your stick you leaned over the table to light his. His eyes widened as you came closer as expected.

“As an Auror, you must be in grave danger.” He spoke. It was only you two, the others were immersed in their own conversations.

“It’s always dangerous, feels nearer than it did last time though.” His eyebrows furrowed and he chuckled as he blew some more smoke from his lips. You did the same. “Last time?” you nodded and took another sip from your cup.

“The first war?” You tried, he didn’t get it though.

“What would you know of the first war? You’re barely an adult, we all know Tonks’ hardly one.” He stomped out his cigarette and without a warning a laugh escaped you. “Oh, merlin.” You heaved, wiping the non existing tears.

“What’s so funny?” he spoke, a unsure smirk on his face. “Mr. Black-” you had to laugh again.  “This is truly hilarious.” you paused

“I’m older than you think.” you took a sip from your cup and a big smile spread on your face once again. 

“What?” he managed to say, the cup of firewhiskey in front of him long forgotten. You lit yourself another cigarette and gave him a smile.

“We went to Hogwarts around the same time, I think.” you paused and his eyebrows furrowed once again. “You were a fourth or fifth year. I mean who could ever forget the great and mighty Marauders?” His mouth had opened in disbelief.

“I’m almost ten years older than your cousin.” you whispered.

“So-”Yes, I’m almost as old as you, so.” He shook his head and stood from the table. With his cup in hand he made his way next to you.

“Well, forgive me, darling. You look hardly a day over twenty.” You had to laugh again and shook your head.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Black.” he clasped your hand in his and gave you another smile. “Please call me Sirius, love.” you nodded and took another sip of your drink.

“And since the Firewhiskey is slowly loosening my tongue, I believe that I do not feel ashamed to say that I'm slowly starting to fancy you, Y/N.” you stopped yourself from laughing and nodded at him.

“I’m afraid, me too.” A wide smile spread on his face as he came close.

“Good, then I get to do this.” with a hand on your cheek he came closer. His warm lips connected with yours and with almost rehearsed movements you kissed. Your hand found the back of his head, the other sat on his neck.

 “Ew, you two.” Tonks spat and Remus had to laugh at the sight of you two.

“Definitely hardly an adult.” Sirius chuckled.

You two were out of breath as you rested your head in the crook of his neck with a grin on your face.

[singmyaubade]

neeeeeedd finals themed x reader fics rn but i cant find ANYTHINGGGG i just need my fav boys to comfort me while im on my grindset 😞😞😞

hiii! i was a little late to see this request, but i still wanted to write it! hope your finals went super well and that you’re enjoying the break! great work <33

bf!poly!marauders x gf!female!reader

summary: OWL's was truly getting to you but your favorite boys always know how to comfort you.

warnings: pure fluff: kissing, cutesy stuff, just teasing tension

--

OWL's was starting to feel like an understatement.

The late nights, the constant ignoring of everything around you, never quite living in the moment… yeah, understatement doesn’t even begin to cover it.

But getting perfect marks wasn’t a want, it was a need.

If you wanted to be an Auror, if you wanted Dumbledore’s reference—passing OWLs with flying colors wasn’t optional. It was a must.

And, unfortunately, everyone else around you seemed to be paying for it.

James had been trying to get you to play Quidditch with him for three days straight. He even promised to buy you that dress you’d been eyeing during your last trip to Hogsmeade. You appreciated the effort but didn't cave.

Not long after, Sirius had tried his own tactic—convincing you to go skinny-dipping in the Black Lake. He even tried to seduce you.

It was worse than James' attempt if you were being honest.

Then Remus—who was usually the one to encourage studying—tried to get you to let him read to you, just so you could get some sleep.

And you wanted to. You really did. But you couldn’t afford distractions—not with the potions section of your notes still untouched.

So, they gave you space. Finally. Or so you thought.

“Hi, my love,” Remus murmured, massaging your shoulders, pulling you from your thoughts. You grinned and leaned up to kiss him.

“Hello,” you chirped, your focus still on scribbling notes.

“Still working hard?” He asked, but his voice was light, full of warmth.

You hummed, nodding in agreement. “Well, I have a surprise for you,” He said, his tone suddenly more serious.

You didn’t really register what he said at first, still lost in your notes. But then, without warning, he gently turned you toward him.

“Darling, I need you to step away from your quill and paper for just a second,” He said, his gaze soft but earnest. You frowned.

“But Remmy, I really need to finish this,” You protested.

He gave you a playful yet exhausted look. “I swear, it’ll still be here. I just want you to see something.”

You sighed and reluctantly set the quill down, giving your notes one last sad look before following him as he gently took your hand and led you out of the library.

“What is this surprise?” You asked, your impatience creeping into your voice.

“You’ll see, my love,” He replied with a soft smile.

“But I really need to study,” You rambled. “Professor Turner is going to mark me down if I mess up the measurements for the ingredients. You know how picky she is.”

Remus chuckled, stopping to look at you with tender amusement. “I swear on Merlin’s beard, you’ll pass. You just need to stop stressing about it so much.”

His hands cupped your face, and he kissed your forehead, making you smile despite yourself.

Soon, you found yourself in the outdoor grassy area, where you could see James and Sirius bickering about something. Remus led you over to a picnic blanket where the two were sitting.

“What’s going on here?” You asked, looking between them.

“Well…” James began, standing up and making his way toward you. “We thought you could use a little stress reliever after all that studying.”

He took your hands in his. “And we wanted to do something nice for you,” He added, a playful glint in his eyes.

You grinned. “Thank you guys,” You said, feeling your heart warm at their thoughtfulness.

“We had to, love,” Sirius chimed in, looking at you with a teasing smirk. “We were worried your pretty little brain was going to overload.”

You giggled and sat down on the blanket next to Remus. The scent of fresh blueberry muffins wafted up, making your stomach rumble.

“I never knew you guys could bake,” You said, eyeing the spread laid out in front of you.

James grinned proudly. “Well, we all make great bakers,” he said. “Remus has precision, I’ve got my luck, and Sirius…”

“Hey! I was moral support!” Sirius interjected, pushing James lightly.

You laughed, glancing at Remus. “This is really sweet. Thank you.”

“Of course, my love,” Remus said, leaning in to kiss you softly. “We’d do anything for you. And we both know you’ll pass, because you’re brilliant.”

“Yeah, that brain of yours would outsmart all of us,” Sirius said, shaking his head with a grin.

“And, uh, I did come up with the idea for the basket,” James interrupted, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I think I deserve a kiss for that.”

You giggled, leaning over to give him a quick peck.

“I suggested we have it outside,” Sirius added, looking pleased with himself.

You laughed again before giving him a peck as well.

Remus smiled at you lovingly, his hand resting on your knee. “I’m just glad you’re here with us,” He said quietly.

“Well,” You said with a cheeky grin, “I think it’s time for some skinny dipping. Maybe a bit of Quidditch? And, oh, a bedtime story?”

The boys’ eyes all lit up. Sirius’ grin grew mischievous.

“You had me at skinny dipping,” He said with a wink.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Invisible: Hermione x Reader {Blurb}

WolfStar!Slytherin!werewolf!Reader x Hermione

Masterlist

Summary: Reader is a bit of a punk like Sirius, with Remus's insecurities. She doesn't believe she deserves a girl like Hermione. No real plot just Angst straight into fluff

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, reader is a bit of a mess, insults, Hermione hit the reader a few times (please reach out if I missed something}

Wc- 2199

{Y/N} Lupin had never been invisible. Even on days you tried to be, the whispers and eyes still followed you through the halls. See, you were a bit too much like your father, Sirius. You styled like him. Every weekend, his old leather jacket, hair dyed a deep jet black, nails to match. Minnie would say you had the attitude, more in for a thrill then the consequence. Snape would say your grades were like his as well, just enough to pass and just engaged enough to not be called out. Not that you didn't relish in the attention and laughs you got when a teacher tried to reprimand you, and a very Sirius-like comment or two later, the classroom was full of snickering juveniles and you had one more detention on your record. A record, your father, for the life of him, couldn't tell you what it was for. He got an amazing job as an Auror straight out of school despite it all. If that wouldn't usually keep people a good distance away from you, you had the mind of your dad. Methodical and exact, Remus gifted you a weapon no one could quite match. Well.. until you met her.

Hermione Granger.

You see, nothing good could come of a troublemaker, unless they were a Gryffindor. If your reputation wasn't enough, your rule of kiss and tell would be. You were quite popular with the girls and guys of your year. You knew what they wanted and you entertained it. You understood who you were, a Slytherin, a delinquent, someone so bad yet irresistible. No one stayed later than a week or two, you never blamed them. When they got to know you, when they knew you weren't some fantasy written heart throb, their interest was lost. 

You liked to pretend it didn't hurt. It was good fun now and again, but every time someone stopped coming around you were reminded just what it was. Just the perfect amount of hurt and vulnerability for the next one when they came round. Your coping mechanism was the same thing hurting you, and you became cruel about it. 

You spent most of your days with Theodore Nott, a boy with much the same reputation. Complaining to each other just to fill the silence. If your parents knew you associated with the boy, there would be a riot. A Death Eater’s son, someone you trusted more with the secrets of your heart than your own father.

“So Snape says I have to stay in this Hogsmeade trip to study. Roped some poor third year into helping me.” You groaned and Theodore snickered at this. “Has the toad even seen your grades?”

“Bloody doubt it.” You huffed and took a drag of your cigarette. “Just hope it's not some brat, you know? Odd I have to study with someone younger.” You mumbled and handed the stick over to Nott, but it was intercepted by a pale delicate hand. 

Some girl, maybe only 14 years old, snatched the bud from your hand and dropped it on the cobbled floor. Stepping on it with a huff. She turned to you with a vicious smile. “How very kind of you for being early. Names Granger. Hermione Granger.” She held her hand out and you looked her up and down in annoyance. 

“Don't tell me you're the person who is supposed to assist me.” You scoffed and she smiled brightly. Clearly there was some hidden malice there. You were shocked a Gryffindor of all houses had chosen to throw away her weekend to 'help’ you. 

You huffed and took her hand, shaking it firm before she walked past you. You apologized to Theodore and began to follow her. 

That's how the unlikely dynamic began. That day you did everything in your power to get under her skin, and she yours. You would flirt with her, make crude jokes, ignore the work at any cost. She would badger you with questions you were sure the little lion didn't even know herself.

Your goal was to get her to leave you alone. But she refused.

Every time you were forced to detention study, there she was. It was like torture. You wanted to curse Snape’s very existence, but also thank him on your hands and knees for the opportunity. In normal circumstances, you would never have been able to even talk to Granger. She was so wrapped up in Harry -the chosen one- Potter and Ron -just stop whining- Weasley, you didn't even think about her much. 

That was your downfall, of course. You don't think of yourself as someone to fall, especially for an underclassman, but Merlin she was magnetic. Just enough sass and spunk, a bit of a smart ass but it left you wanting more. You tested the water a few times, but when Summer came around and you were sent home to your dads, you didn't send a letter, neither did she.

You and Hermione’s relationship was purely for studying. You knew there were people in your life that were made for certain times, and Hermione was made for quiet library rendezvous. For whispered flirts and cheeky comments between paragraphs. For daunting questions and electric praise. You just wished you could spend all year between those book pages, knee to knee, pretending nothing outside the library mattered. That you both weren’t helplessly over your heads.

That summer was hell, it felt like you were going through withdrawals. It's likely what it was, considering you wouldn't dream of bringing a smoke into your home. Sirius had a nose for that sort of thing. Though it seemed in your current state all you could think of was the fluffy haired girl. Even when you met some muggles to party with over the summer, even when you met up with some of your wix friends, you had fun but kept thinking about her beautiful eyes. It didn't help that you spent almost every weekend and full moon at the Potter’s, and your aunt Lily behaved so much like Hermione it terrified you. Especially since you were no James Potter.

It was pathetic, you decided. When the next school year came around, you did everything in your power to avoid her. Even getting good grades. Then, like some sick twisted joke, the Yule ball came. Everyone was pairing up and you didn't have the heart to stomach being around Hermione. You knew she wasn't someone to gloat or ramble on about the more feminine things in life, but even if it was just a passing comment you knew you wouldn't be able to take it. Knowing who was going to be whisking her off her feet all night, staring into her playful eyes, getting to see the caged bird fly, when you refused to beg for the key. You knew you weren't worth such a luxury. Hermione Granger was made for people like Krum, a famous Quidditch star, or a boy like Harry Potter, the boy who lived. Even Ron Weasley, a pureblood with a huge family with no real baggage. One that would allow her wings to spread and give her the freedom in her life. 

You caught yourself, thinking with such longing for her was vexing. You never found yourself thinking about forever. Not with anyone, until you met her. What good could you do for her? All you could truly offer was your father’s family’s blood money, your horrid reputation, and your werewolf blood. You knew how the world saw you, considering your father just quit last year because he was one.

When the night came, you and Theodore decided to go together. Most of the night was spent dancing with people who came alone, or each other, even drinking spiked juice when the weird sisters started up. Your eyes locked with Hermione’s, on complete accident. Your breath hitched when you saw her blissful smile turn to a look of hurt and disconnection. Your face fell, whatever joke Nott was on about with the girls you were with went silent on your ears. 

“Hey, man, I need some air.” You muttered to him, still holding Hermione’s eyes. Nott waved you off and you finally broke eye contact and hurried out of the hall.

You grabbed your suit’s coat on the way out. You were wearing a muggle suit, just a white button up, a green vest, black tie, and of course the black coat. You rushed to fix the coat around your sides as you began to turn down the hall. Getting as far away from them as possible.

“Don't you dare!” You heard a shout from behind you. You turned sharply on your heel at the familiar voice. You had never heard it so painful. You locked eyes with Hermione and she stalked toward you. You took a sharp breath and got ready for the first conversation you would have with her from the entire year. “What is your problem!?” She yelled at you.

“Hm? What's wrong, otter?” You played coy and pushed your hair back. You gave her your best smile, but from the look in her eyes you could tell it wasn't working. She scoffed at you and threw her gloves at your chest.

“You,,, You selfish git! I knew I should have listened to everyone! You're nothing but a scoundrel!” She shouted at you, in between shoves to your chest that got weaker as tears filled her eyes. You were stunned, jaw slack and trying to figure out just what to say in this moment.

You eventually grabbed her wrists and cooed at her to take a breath. It broke your heart to see her like this. “Come on now, you know I hate seeing pretty girls cry.” You mused and she huffed. “Don't call me that.”

“What? Otter or Pretty girl?” You asked and she huffed. 

“Both! You don't get to after what you've done!” Her shouts filled the empty hall. You grimaced and sighed. 

“Listen-”

“No! You listen to me!” She shouted over you and you quickly nodded. “I have spent my time at Hogwarts thinking I was invisible. I did my best, I got top grades, and the second people began to notice they acted like I was some kind of disease! Like I was just some arrogant cocky Muggle born who didn't deserve to be here.”

“You do-”

“It’s my turn Lupin!” She cut you off again and you nodded, putting her gloves in your pocket and leaning forward to try and dry her eyes. She leaned into your hands and it calmed her instantly. “I felt so out of place. I felt like I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then I met you,” She whispered and stepped forward. Her arms wrapped around your middle and she hid her face in your suit. “When I talked, you listened. When I asked you answered. You sought me out.. You made me feel like you wanted me around. Like I was special.”

You looked down at her in surprise.

“You were the first person to show me what that felt like. Everyone warned me that you were just a cruel flirt. And I guess they were right. I don't know what I thought, I see the girls you've had before, All pretty and done up, so bold and confident. I didn't even get the luxury to say I lost you like they have. Because I never had you. You never wanted me. You're cruel, {Y/N} Lupin.” She sniffled.

Your eyes were wide and you quickly wrapped your arms around her. Pulling her close into your chest you allowed yourself to press your nose to her hair. You let her cry in frustration in your arms. Not stopping her when she would occasionally hit your side with her closed fist. 

“Say something.” She begged pathetically, sniffling into your chest.

“... I have been torturing myself for months, thinking I wasn't worth your time, Hermione.” You admitted, voice dripping in shame. She scoffed and you pulled some of her hair behind her ear.

“Rubbish.”

“It's true.” You cooed in a playful tone. Pressing your chin to her head. “I was so wrapped up in the idea that you didn't want me back, Otter.”

Her sniffles slowly died out, she pulled back and looked you in the eye. You grabbed her cheeks again and leaned in closer. Your lips were a few inches from each other. You could feel her breath brush your lips. “You wanted me?”

“I want you.” You corrected and leaned in closer. She closed her eyes and her breath hitched. You stared at her, admiring her in the moonlight. You usually hated the moon and what it did to your family, but right now, you couldn't think of a better color for her. Your thumb traced her cupid’s bow and she huffed. “I am still mad at you, Lupin. So I’ll give you a choice.” She whined up at you and you smirked.

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“Kiss me or walk me back.”

You laughed and moved closer, your eyes lidding. “That’s a big gamble you're making there.” You breathe and she only smirks. “I like my odds.”

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER THIRTY (see full series list here)

warning: bit of an emotional start, sorry

October 31st, 1981

“Hey, love, are you feeling any better?”

After a lot of straining and groaning, you manage to turn your head just enough on the pillow to be able to take in the person who’s just entered the room: Sirius, your husband — and for the past two days, your servant, practically.

You sniffle, one of your nostrils completely blocked, giving a wry smile. “Not at all.” Your voice comes out raspy and it grates against the back of your throat. “I don't know what I did to deserve this but fuck I am never doing it again.”

He chuckles softly, gently stroking your hair out of your face. “Look on the bright side. At least you're not in St Mungo’s.”

“Not yet.” You blink lethargically at him, fighting the urge to drift off to sleep, sighing. “Have we gotten any trick-or-treaters?”

He raises an eyebrow, chuckling. “What are you on about?”

You raise a hand lazily, waving it about in front of him in strange explanation. “It’s a Muggle thing…kids dress up and come to the door…give them sweets…”

Sirius listens while you babble incomprehensibly about Halloween and Muggles, and places a cold wet cloth on your forehead, relieving the immense heat emanating from your skin. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“We don't have any pain relief left,” he says gently, as if he’s worried talking too loud will irritate your body even more. “I’ll pop out and get you some in a little bit.”

You shake your head vigorously, alarm bells going off in your head. “No, no, stay here. Don't leave tonight…have a bad feeling…”

“Probably because you’re sick,” he answers with an amused smile, placing a fresh box of tissues on your bedside table. “I won't be long.”

But you really do have a bad feeling, and you know it's not from the illness. You have a sinking feeling in your stomach of worry, a sense that something bad will happen tonight. You want him to stay by your side just in case.

“No, stay, Sirius, please,” you say weakly, your body betraying your brain as your eyelids get heavier and you have to fight to keep them open. “Please, don't go…something bad will happen.”

He continues stroking your hair soothingly, wiping the cloth across your forehead. “Nothing bad will happen, I promise. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You grab his arm with what little strength you have, your body aching with the movement. “Please, please don't go. I’m being serious, stay here, please…”

He stands up, tugging the covers closer to your body. “Get your rest, love. You’ll feel better when I have your medicine.”

You open your mouth to say more, but this time the words don't come out. You bring a hand to your throat, feeling it burn each time you try to say anything.

“Sirius…”

But he's gone. He's left the room and soon, as your eyelids finally shut over your eyes, you can hear the revving of his motorbike outside and the sound of him driving off into the night.

Bright light when you’re jolted awake by someone shaking you vigorously tells you it’s morning. Your eyes snap open, feeling extremely disoriented, and peer up at the unfamiliar face above you.

“Come on, get up now…”

“Huh…?” You blink, bringing a hand to your eyes and rubbing them, your head pounding. When you open them again, Barty Crouch is wide-eyed, staring back at you. In a mixture of sickness and shock, you let out a string of rattly coughs and he jerks away from you, wrinkling his nose. “Mr Crouch?”

“Get up.”

With effort, you manage to sit up against the headboard and take in your surroundings. You realise that what you had taken for the morning sun streaming in through the windows is actually just the lights in your bedroom, making you squint. Crouch isn’t the only one here — there’s about six other official-looking people — a few other Aurors you recognise from the Ministry.

What the fuck is going on? Are you dying? What was in that medicine Sirius got you?

“Mr Crouch what — what are you doing here?”

“You didn’t hear what happened, then.” He looks back at his co-workers, and they start muttering to each other conspiratorially. Can’t they just leave? Can’t they see you need rest right now? This must be a dream because if it were real Sirius would keep them out of your room.

“You’re going to have to come with us.”

“What?”

Crouch leans to say something to another man, and you manage to catch the end of his sentence: “ — no state to answer questions, we’ll have to take her in.”

You groan, reaching for the water on your nightstand and gulping the glass down. You feel sick, and you don’t know if it’s from anxiety or your flu.

“Where’s…where’s Sirius?” you say, craning your neck to look past the people in case he’s hidden behind them.

Crouch bites his lip and exchanges a glance with the workers, another set of mutterings passing around the group.

“Just…come with us, and we’ll explain everything. We’ll get you a potion for your illness.”

You look around at all the sets of eyes staring at you. One man standing near the back is glaring at you as if you’ve just killed someone.

“No, where is he?” You pull back the covers and feebly swing your legs over the side of the bed, sitting up. “Where the fuck is Sirius?”

The man who’s been glaring at you steps forward from the back of the group to speak to Crouch, though he makes no effort to hide his words. “Stop being so nice, Crouch. Let’s get this over with.”

Crouch looks down at you, frowning, as he takes in your appearance: dishevelled and in your pyjamas, nose and eyes red.

“You’ll need to get dressed.”

You stare around at them, shaking your head. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“You’ll find out. Get ready.”

“Tell me what’s going on or I’m not going anywhere.”

Crouch hisses in frustration but before he can get another word out, the angry man steps forward and produces his wand. “This isn’t a fucking tea party, Barty. Stupefy.”

When you wake, you're sitting in a chair. Blinking rapidly, you take in your surroundings: Crouch’s office. He sits across from you, hands folded in front of him as he stares at you.

“You're awake.”

You groan, your limbs stiff and sore. “Fuck — barely.”

Crouch sighs and looks behind you, and when you turn around you notice Moody standing behind you, leaning on his staff with a grim expression.

“Sir?”

Crouch pushes a tall glass of water towards you across the desk. “Have a drink.”

Your heart is pounding — what is going on? Have you done something wrong? Oh god, what about that paperwork you forgot to file last week? It was a complete accident, you just lost track of time —

“Go on.”

Nervously, you pull the glass towards your lips and gulp it down, grateful for how it soothes your throat. Oddly, you don't feel sick anymore — your headache is gone, your nose is clear and you don't feel the urge to cough and sneeze every ten seconds. They must have given you a potion while you were out. How long were you out?

Crouch waits while you drink and doesn't speak until you've finished every last drop. Then he clears his throat. “Last night, James and Lily Potter were murdered by He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.”

The monotone way he says it makes you feel like you've heard him wrong.

“What?”

“They were betrayed by their Secret-Keeper. By Sirius Black.”

You don't say anything. You can't say anything. James and Lily are dead? This can't be happening. This is just a nightmare, right? It's a horrible, terrible nightmare. There is no way that in the real world, your best friends are dead. There is no way that in reality, your best friends are dead and your husband is the reason why. Sirius would never do that, you know he would never do that — he wouldn’t even tell you anything about where they were hiding, he would never compromise their safety like that —

“Sirius Black killed Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles in one blast.”

Wake up, wake up. This is just a nightmare. Your brain is just playing a cruel trick on you — maybe it was the medicine…yeah, that sounds about right. Potions and medicine always make your brain act funny —

“You got all that?”

“No, I – I don’t underst—”

“Harry Potter survived. No one knows how. He destroyed the Dark Lord. They are calling him ‘The Boy Who Lived’.”

This is all too much for you. You don’t understand — what does he mean James and Lily are dead? And — and Sirius is the reason why? And how could Harry survive, he’s barely a year old — it can’t be real. How could they be dead? And where is Sirius? You need to see him, you need to talk to him, you just need him right now —

Slowly, you look over your shoulder at Moody, still standing silently against his staff.

Your lip trembles and when you speak it's barely audible. “Tell me I’m dreaming. Please, please, please tell me this is a fucking dream.”

His magical eye swivels and stares back at you, studying your face. It feels like he’s analysing your face, like the answer is written on your cheeks as plain as day. There are dark, ashy bags under his eyes. His lip is cracked and split on one side, crusty with dried blood. Did he sleep at all last night? Probably not — Moody never sleeps. But this looks different, not the usual after-effects of his insomnia — it’s worse than that.

He shakes his head and your stomach lurches.

This is happening.

Crouch’s expression remains the same. “I have no tolerance for Death Eaters or anyone who aids a Death Eater in any shape or form, Mrs Black, so I am going to waste no time playing nice. Are you, or have you ever been, a part of the Dark Lord’s following?”

“No.”

The answer comes out of you before you can think — you barely even register the question in your head before your mouth is blurting out the word — oddly monotone for your current state: trembling from head to toe, trying your best not to vomit, eyes stinging.

“Did you know of your husband’s involvement with the Dark Lord?”

“No.”

Again, you don’t even realise what he’s asking when the word falls out of your mouth. It’s like you have no control over what you’re saying at all.

“What — what the fuck — “

“Did you ever cover for Sirius when he was spying for the Dark Lord?”

“No.” You stop, hissing in frustration. “No, no — Sirius, he — he wasn’t a Death Eater, he isn’t a Death Eater, he would never — “

“He is,” Crouch says. “Whether you knew it or not, he has been working with the Dark Lord for quite some time now.”

You shake your head, unable to stop yourself from crying. “N-no, no…Sirius was James’s best friend, they were like b-brothers — he would never sell them out like that —”

“Then how did the Dark Lord find out where the Potters were hiding?” Crouch says sharply. “No one knew that information but Sirius. No one was able to reveal that information but him —”

“No,” you sob. “No, no, no, no, no —”

“The sooner you accept it, the sooner you can move on.” Though his words might seem sympathetic and comforting to some, he says them with little to no sympathy whatsoever.

“There must be a mistake,” you sniffle, skin burning from the tears streaming down your cheeks. “That’s not what happened, Sirius, he — he was just gone to the shop —”

A hand comes to rest on your shoulder. “There were witnesses. They saw him kill Pettigrew and those Muggles.”

You shake your head, sobbing. “No, no, no, no, no! T-that’s not what happened, that can’t be what h-happened —”

“Have you ever acted on orders given to you by the Dark Lord, or any of his followers?”

“No.”

Your hand flies to your throat instinctively, as if there’s something wrapped around it that you want to release, and you stare back at Crouch, the light on his desk pulsing in the corner of your eye. Your eyes wander to your empty glass on the desk.

“Did you — d-did you give me fuck — fucking truth serum?”

A vein bulges in his neck, his lip twitching. “Of course I did. Did you expect me to just take everything you say as truth? You’re married to a Death Eater.”

A million different emotions are coursing through you. You feel like getting sick. “Sirius isn’t a Death Eater, he isn’t — and I’ll p-prove it to you, let me show you his arm, he doesn’t have the m-mark —”

“That is no surprise. He was a spy!” Crouch snaps, voice raised. “If he had the mark he would never be trusted by the Potters!”

This is too much. You can’t think in this — it’s too warm in this office, your clothes are sticking to your skin and it's suffocating, your throat is burning, you need some fresh air —

“Where is he?” You gasp. “Sirius. Where is he? Please, let me talk to him, please —”

“He is on a one-way trip to Azkaban,” Crouch spits. “And he will never return. For what he has done, he deserves no better.”

“When can I see h-him?” you say desperately. “His trial, his trial, when is his trial — “

“There won’t be one.”

Your heart feels heavy and you close your eyes, falling back in your chair as you sob. “What? What do you mean there won’t be one?”

“He is a mentally deranged and dangerous criminal,” Crouch says, hatred in his eyes. “We have an eye-witness account for what happened, there is no point in arguing when the verdict is clear. It is a waste of time.”

“No, no, that’s not fair, he deserves a trial just like everyone else.” You’re breathing heavily and suddenly it feels like there isn’t enough air in the room to fill your tired lungs. “You — you can’t just send him to Azkaban like that!”

“I can.”

“But — “

“The man has murdered thirteen innocent people!” Crouch bellows, his face red with anger. “Poor Peter Pettigrew, he was your friend! He tore after Sirius, told him just what he thought of his betrayal, and was murdered for it! Twelve innocent civilians, victims of his sick and twisted mind! James and Lily, betrayed by their closest friend — Harry Potter, betrayed by his godfather!”

His eyes are bulging out of their sockets and his fists are clenched on the desk. The room goes silent but for your uncontrollable sobs and Crouch’s heavy breathing across the desk from you. You screw your eyes shut and silently beg anyone listening to take it all away, to make this day never happen. To turn back time and keep your friends alive. Anything to get rid of this obliterating feeling.

“You got what you wanted, Barty,” Moody grunts from behind you. “Give the girl a break.”

When Moody takes your arm and pulls you out of Crouch’s office, you can barely see straight. You desperately try to process everything that’s going on, but it’s impossible. The very notion that James and Lily could be dead is inconceivable to you. Not your best friend, not your Lily, who promised you’d be best friends until you were old and frail. How could someone so sweet and wonderful, so full of life — how could she ever die? How could someone ever snuff out that perfect, unending light that was her soul? She always told you that your kids would grow up together, that they would be the best of friends just like you were — how can you ever come to terms with the fact that she will never get to see that become a reality? How will you ever adjust to life without James’s grins, without his constant jokes and laughter — who will you and Lily laugh at, how will you watch the way her face lights up when he enters the room if he’s dead?

Workers stare at you as you pass through the halls with Moody, they turn and anxiously whisper with their colleagues, but you don’t even notice. When Moody sits you down in his office, he doesn’t say anything. He says absolutely nothing and lets you stare at the chipped wood of his desk, lets you sob and weep and scream and wail, lets you mutter and babble incoherently.

The next day the Minister of Magic, Millicent Bagnold, gives you more Veritaserum and interrogates you with similar questions to Crouch. You scream and roar about Sirius — you just want to talk to him, you just want to see him — and when it gets you nowhere Moody takes you back to his office and silently lets you stew for hours again.

This routine continues for a week. Every day someone seems to have a new question to catch you out — one that will finally reveal that you knew something, or you helped someone — each new person bringing a fresh glass of water laced with a hefty dose of Veritaserum. You've actually gotten good at tasting the difference between the water they give you and the water Moody gives you, which is clean and potion-less, straight from his hip flask.

When you get home it doesn’t feel like home. You step in the door and cry, hot tears stinging your eyes. You spot a photo on your kitchen counter — it’s you and Sirius, on your birthday. You're sitting at the kitchen table, and his arm is around your waist while you lean into him, a gleeful grin on your face. It sets you off and in a fit of rage you throw it against the wall, shattering it. The second the photo hits the floor you’re filled with regret, and you rush to assess the damage. You try and repair it with your wand but you can’t focus properly on the spell, and spend an hour trying to carefully glue it back together with shaky hands.

You can't do anything. You feel bad doing the things you enjoy, like listening to music or reading a book — Sirius can't do these things in Azkaban. James and Lily can't do these things in death. You have no appetite and the days seem to blur and blur until you have no idea what time it is.

Why did this have to happen to your family?

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

December, 1995

You don’t think you’ve ever been as excited when Christmas break finally arrives. The last two years have been spent at Hogwarts, and the others at your parents’ house with Remus. Your parents love Remus — he’s like a son to them. And now you finally get to spend it with everyone you love, especially Sirius. However, getting to Grimmauld Place for the holidays isn’t as easy as expected.

A few days before the end of term while you’re helping decorate the entrance hall, Umbridge approaches. “Excited for Christmas, professor?”

It takes you a second to get over the initial shock of her actually speaking to you, and you turn back to your decorations. “Yes.”

“And where will you be staying this Christmas?” she asks. “As Hogwarts High Inquisitor, it is pertinent that I know where all staff are over the period in case I should need to contact them with anything urgent.”

She smiles at you and you resist the urge to gag at the sight of her.

“I’m going to my parents’ house,” you reply, lifting some tinsel in the air with your wand and lining it along a portrait of an elegant woman standing beneath an apple tree.

“How festive!” the woman in the portrait comments.

Umbridge cocks her head with interest. “Your parents? But I have heard that you usually stay at Hogwarts.”

You shrug. “Thought I’d switch it up this year.”

“Is there any particular reason this sudden change was brought on?” she asks, smiling condescendingly.

You pick up the box of decorations with one hand and turn to her. “I miss them.” Before she can interrogate you any more, you march away from her, fixing boughs of holly and mistletoe branches as you go.

You join the rest of the students on the Hogwarts Express back to King’s Cross, taking the time to carefully wrap presents and write cards. It’s a lot of work to get home. You’re not going to risk heading straight to London to Grimmauld Place, not with the chance of being followed — which you expect every time you leave Hogwarts. You go to the house first, pick up some extra clothes, before getting on another train to your parents’ house. You have dinner with them there and trade gifts until nightfall, when you pack up your things again and, disguising yourself as best you can, make your way to Grimmauld Place with Dubh sleeping soundly in your bag as you go.

“Well, you better be honoured that I went through all that zig-zagging across the country just to see you,” you say when Sirius greets you at the door. You don’t think the grin on his face could be any wider when his eyes meet yours. Remus follows him through the corridor, smiling.

“Believe me, I’m more than honoured,” Sirius says, striding forward to place both hands on your cheeks and bring your mouth to his, kissing you desperately. You drop your bags in surprise, chuckling against his lips. When you pull back, his head follows you and you laugh, putting your hands on his shoulders to gently push him back.

“Easy, Sirius, we’ve got company,” you tease, nodding at Remus, who rolls his eyes.

Sirius turns to Remus, grinning. “Can’t let me have a moment, can you?”

He shrugs. “Guess not.”

You give Remus a hug before heading into the kitchen, where Mrs Weasley is busy preparing dinner. There are bags under her eyes when she turns to greet you, the stress of Arthur’s injuries clearly getting to her.

“Let me give you a hand, Molly,” you say, and though usually she would tell you not to be silly, this time she accepts your help gratefully, allowing you to take over most of the workload while she busies herself with setting the table.

Sirius is in a brilliant mood, singing Christmas carols as he sets about the place putting up decorations. You don’t think you’ve seen him this happy in a long time and it calms your anxious heart. He works tirelessly up to Christmas Day, determined to make the house unrecognisable — and he actually manages to do a pretty decent job of turning the dusty old place into a warm, cheerful home. Garlands of holly and gold and silver streamers hang from the chandeliers, and a great twinkling Christmas tree, acquired by Mundungus, hides the Black family tree from view. Mistletoe branches are placed over the entrances to different rooms, and every chance he gets Sirius is pulling you under one to steal a kiss. Even the elf heads on the wall are wearing little Santa hats and beards.

He wakes up early on Christmas Day like a child desperate to unwrap their presents and shakes you awake, much to your annoyance.

“Sirius, this better be good —”

“Just look.”

He points at the window, grinning, and after rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you turn to look at what he’s pointing at.

There, at the window, is a brand-new telescope, aimed at the sky above. A glittery gold bow has been stuck to the top of it.

“You were complaining about not having your telescope here over the summer, that the one at home is too difficult to transport, so —”

You beam, throwing your arms around him gleefully. “Oh, I love it, Sirius!”

You kiss him, lingering for several moments to relish in the feeling of his lips on yours, unable to fight the smile on your face while you do. You thread your fingers through his hair, giggling.

“How did you even buy it? Don’t tell me you left —”

“I didn’t leave the house, no,” Sirius says with a roll of his eyes. “I sent Remus to get it and gave him the money.”

You smile good-naturedly at him. “Poor Remus.”

He snorts.

You kiss him one last time. “You are the absolute best. I love you.”

He smiles and you pull away to reach under the bed and produce his present, neatly wrapped in red and gold wrapping paper. Curiously, he unwraps it to reveal a small bottle of dark blue liquid, turning it around in his hands before his eyes widen in shock, laughing.

“I — how did you get this?” he says in disbelief. “I thought it would be discontinued by now.”

You beam. “I never reveal my secrets.” You nod at him, smiling. “Go on, test it out. I want to see if it’s actually the same.”

Sirius pulls the cap off the bottle, aiming the nozzle at his wrist and spraying it, rubbing it in with the other before holding his wrist out to you to test. Leaning forward, you sniff and laugh, grinning at him. It’s the cologne he used to wear for years before his capture, he used to say it was his signature scent. The same cologne you remember smelling inside your Amortentia potion in sixth year.

“Perfect.”

He smiles at you, pulling you towards him to kiss you again. “Thank you,” he breathes between kisses, smiling against your lips. “You’re perfect. I love you.”

When you finally disentangle from each other, you get dressed and head downstairs — though not before you’ve thoroughly inspected your new telescope, delighting in the cleanness of it and the crystal-clear focus of the untouched lenses.

In the kitchen, Harry, Ron, and Hermione are peering into Kreacher’s den opposite the pantry and Mrs Weasley is standing at the stove, sniffling when she wishes you both Merry Christmas. You’re about to check what’s wrong when Sirius taps your side, silently shaking his head.

“Percy,” he whispers near-imperceptibly into your ear, and you nod in understanding. Then he raises his voice, “I’ll get the turkey.”

He heads into the pantry and you make your way over to the kids, smiling. “Happy Christmas, guys. What are you up to?”

“I have a present for Kreacher,” Hermione explains, laying a package on top of the rags and blankets in the dingy cupboard, right beside the glass photos Kreacher hoards of Sirius’ family. She frowns. “But he’s not here…I guess he’ll find it later, it’s fine.”

“Come to think of it,” Sirius says, emerging from the pantry carrying a large turkey as Harry closes the cupboard door, “has anyone actually seen Kreacher lately?”

“I haven’t seen him since the night we came back here,” says Harry. “You were ordering him out of the kitchen.”

“Yeah…” Sirius frowns. “You know, I think that’s the last time I saw him, too…he must be hiding upstairs somewhere…”

“He couldn’t have left, could he?” Harry suggests. “I mean, when you said ‘out’, maybe he thought you meant get out of the house?”

Sirius shakes his head. “No, no, house elves can’t leave unless they’re given clothes, they’re tied to their family’s house.”

“They can leave the house if they really want to,” Harry contradicts. “Dobby did, he left the Malfoys’ house to give me warnings two years ago. He had to punish himself afterward, but he still managed it.”

Sirius looks slightly disconcerted for a moment, meeting your eyes, before he shakes his head. “I’ll look for him later, I expect I’ll find him upstairs crying his eyes out over my mother’s old bloomers or something…of course, he might’ve crawled up into the airing cupboard and died…but I mustn’t get my hopes up…”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, though Hermione looks reproachful.

“Thanks for the presents, by the way,” Harry says, smiling at the two of you.

You beam back at him, thinking of the book on defensive spells and the treats from Honeydukes you had left at the foot of his bed last night. “You’re very welcome!”

You receive an assortment of different kinds of magical teas from Remus, noting with interest the box of earl grey that apparently makes the drinker see everything in black and white for a few minutes, and the green tea that gives levitation. In return, you buy him a set of expensive oil paints which he delights in, promising that you will be the first person to get a painting made with them.

After you have dinner, the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione, head to St Mungo’s to visit Arthur along with Moody and Remus to escort them. You had intended to go, but upon seeing the look on Sirius’s face when everyone leaves, you decide against it.

Before they go, you shove two small bags into Remus’ hands. “Give these to Frank and Alice, will you? Oh, and give this to Arthur.”

You hand him a paddle with a ball attached to it by a string — another Muggle game you hope will keep him entertained in St Mungo’s.

“Of course.”

The place is oddly quiet without everyone else, and you feel a rush of sympathy for Sirius at how lonely the house feels without anyone in it. It reminds you of the silence in your home without him there.

But at the same time, it’s nice. You stand side-by-side as you wash the dishes, handing them to him so he can dry them with a tea towel, and relay all your grievances about Umbridge.

“And then she said, ‘I know you’re hiding something…or should I say someone?’ and she smiled — you do not want to see her smile, by the way, it’s unnerving — but she thought she was well clever, as if she’s the first person to ever think that I could be hiding you away somewhere —”

“Well, you are, to be fair.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know for sure. She just thinks I am,” you say matter-of-factly, handing him another plate.

The scene is so domestic, that it’s almost foreign to you. You went over a decade without him and strangely, it’s little moments like this that you missed the most. Quiet, everyday things.

“Oh, and Mam and Dad said to tell you they said hello,” you say, smiling. “I think my dad misses you quite a lot — or maybe he just misses having someone to order around.”

Sirius chuckles, plates clinking as he returns them to the cupboard. “He always made me work every time we visited. And it’s not like I could say no, either — don’t want to get on the wrong side of the in-laws.”

“A flawless plan, really.”

He hums in agreement, sighing. You hand him the last few cups and he places them in the press before dusting his hands off. “I suppose I should look for Kreacher, before he decides to turn our bedroom into a shrine for my mother…”

Later, it's revealed that Kreacher had been hiding up in the attic — Sirius found him covered in dust, no doubt searching for more Black family relics.

When everyone else turns in for the night, it's just you and Sirius left in the kitchen. You let out a yawn as he drums his fingers on the table, before his face lights up with intent and he stands up and moves away from the table. Curious, you watch as he produces an old record player and blows the dust off of it, then he carefully pulls the needle onto the record and with a crackle, soft music starts playing.

Sirius extends a hand to you, smiling. “Care for a dance?”

You laugh, looking up at him in disbelief. “Oh, you're not serious…I haven't danced in forever —”

“That doesn't matter. Neither have I.”

He pushes his hand further to urge you, and you hesitantly place your hand in his and allow him to pull you out of your seat and into the middle of the floor. The space you have in the kitchen is limited, but it doesn't seem to bother Sirius at all.

Gentle but firm, he places the hand not holding yours on your lower back, and you place your free hand on his shoulder, your face inches from his.

He starts to lead you in a slow sway, and strangely enough you find yourself moving without thinking, muscle memory kicking in. Sighing contentedly, you slot your head into the crook of his neck. You can smell his new (or old?) cologne on his skin.

“Do you think we would’ve been good parents?” you ask softly. “If we had got the chance.”

You feel the nod of his head as he hums. “We would’ve been the best parents, love. And our kids would be lucky enough to inherit all our incredible genes.”

You chuckle, reaching your hand up to his hair to gently pull at the soft strands. “I think they would get your hair.”

“And your eyes, I hope.”

“They’d be clever.”

“And funny — and they'd all be Gryffindors, no doubt.”

You raise an eyebrow. “They’ll all have my smarts, you know. They could be in Ravenclaw.”

Sirius laughs. “Oh, really? Well, if you were so smart then why weren't you placed in Ravenclaw?”

You shrug, biting back a grin. “I look better in red.”

He gently spins you around to the music, and your eye catches on one of the Weasleys’ scarves on the kitchen counter, red and gold sparkling in the light.

“Everyone would love them,” you say, smiling sweetly. “They'd ace every subject and brag about how cool their parents are.”

“They'd dress cool and have incredible taste in music.”

You chuckle, heart aching at the what-ifs. The what could have happened. “They’d be kind to everyone.”

“But not afraid to stand up for themselves.”

“They'd be like you.”

“They'd be just like you.”

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

On the very last day of the holidays, you sit at the kitchen table beside Sirius, the room completely silent, as he glares across at Snape. You're not sure, but you think he might be trying to incinerate the man with just his eyes — though so far he has made no progress.

Harry enters the kitchen, looking quite puzzled and nervous to see Snape sitting there. “Uh.”

“Sit down, Potter.”

“You know,” Sirius says, leaning back on the rear legs of his chair as far back as he can and looking up at the ceiling, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t give orders here, Snape. It's my house, you see.”

An ugly flush rises in Snape’s face. Harry sits down on Sirius’ other side, the three of you facing across at Snape.

“I was supposed to see you alone, Potter,” Snape says, a familiar sneer curling his lips, “but the Blacks — “

“We’re his godparents,” Sirius says loudly.

“I am here on Dumbledore’s orders, but by all means stay, Black, I know you like to feel…involved.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Sirius lets his chair fall back onto four legs with a bang.

“Merely that I am sure you must feel — ah — frustrated by the fact you can do nothing useful for the Order.”

Snape's lip curls in triumph and your fist clenches under the table.

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath, though still loud enough for Snape to hear, based on the way his eye twitches slightly.

Snape turns to Harry. “The Headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term.”

“Study what?” Harry says blankly.

“Occlumency, Potter. The magical defense of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one.”

“Why do I have to study Occlu — thing?”

“Because the headmaster thinks it a good idea,” Snape says smoothly. “You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. You understand?”

“Yes,” Harry says, thumbing the sleeve of his jumper nervously. “Who's going to be teaching me?”

“I am,” Snape answers.

“Why can't Dumbledore teach Harry?” Sirius says aggressively. “Why you?”

“I suppose because it's a headmaster’s privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks,” says Snape silkily. “I assure you I did not beg for the job.” He gets to his feet. “I will expect you at six o’clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anyone asks, you are taking Remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them.”

He turns to leave, his black travelling cloak billowing behind him.

Sirius sits straighter in his chair. “Wait a moment.”

Snape turns back to face you, sneering. “I am in rather a hurry, Black…unlike you, I do not have unlimited leisure time…”

“I’ll get to the point, then,” Sirius says, standing up. “If I hear you're using these Occlumency lessons to give Harry a hard time, you'll have me to answer to.”

“How touching,” Snape sneers. “But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?”

“Yes, I have,” Sirius answers proudly.

“Well then, you’ll notice he's so arrogant that criticism bounces off him.”

Sirius pushes his chair aside roughly and strides around the table towards Snape, pulling out his wand as he goes. Snape whips out his own. They square up to each other, Sirius looking livid, Snape calculated, his eyes flicking between Sirius' wand to his face.

“Sirius!” You say loudly, but he appears not to hear you.

“I've warned you, Snivellus,” he says, face barely a foot from Snape’s, “I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you're reformed, I know better —”

“Oh, but why don't you tell him so?” Snape whispers venomously. “Or are you afraid he might not take the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother’s house for six months very seriously?”

You would jump in but before you can even think about opening your mouth, Sirius is biting back at him.

“Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog’s working at Hogwarts, isn’t he?”

“Speaking of dogs,” Snape says softly, “did you know Lucius Malfoy recognized you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform…gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in the future, didn't it?”

Sirius raises his wand.

“No!” You yell, moving to try and get between them. “Don’t be stupid —”

“Are you calling me a coward?” Sirius snaps at Snape.

“Why, yes, I suppose I am.”

The door opens and the entire Weasley family, plus Hermione, enters the kitchen, all looking very pleased with Mr Weasley walking proudly in their midst, dressed in a pair of striped pajamas.

“Cured!” he announces brightly to the room. “Completely cured!”

He and all the other Weasleys freeze when they take in the scene before them: Sirius and Snape with their wands drawn and pointing into each other’s faces, and you and Harry beside them, watching on in shock.

“Merlin’s beard,” says Mr Weasley, the smile sliding off his face. “What's going on here?”

The two men lower their wands, both wearing twin expressions of the utmost contempt. Snape pockets his and sweeps across the room, saying nothing to the Weasleys as he passes, and pauses at the door.

“Six o’clock Monday evening, Potter.”

He leaves, and Sirius glares after him, wand held tightly in a white-knuckled grip at his side.

“But what's been going on?”

“Nothing, Arthur,” you answer, stepping forward to greet them, “nothing to worry about.” Over your shoulder, you shoot Sirius a reprimanding look, before turning back and plastering a smile on your face. “So, you're cured? That's brilliant, Arthur, really! Great news, honestly…”

“Yes, isn't it?” says Mrs Weasley, leading her husband into a chair, beaming. “Healer Smethwyck worked his magic in the end, found an antidote to whatever that snake’s got in its fangs, and Arthur’s learned his lesson about dabbling in Muggle medicine, haven't you, dear?” she adds, rather menacingly.

“Yes, Molly, dear,” Mr Weasley responds meekly.

Dinner that evening is a cheerful one, though you can tell that Sirius is far from the happy face he's putting on at the moment. When he's not laughing at loudly at Fred and George’s jokes, or offering everyone more food, he falls back into a sour expression.

When you get ready for bed that night, taking off your jewellery, you look over at him.

“I thought you would know by now not to listen to Snape’s goading,” you say. “He only says that stuff to rile you up.”

“I know, I know—”

“Didn't seem like you knew that,” you say, a bitterness lining the edges of your words.

“You heard what he said about James, about Harry,” he mutters angrily. “What kind of person would I be if I didn't defend them?”

“You don't need to defend them with your wand. He only wants to get a reaction from you, and you're giving him exactly what he wants. Leave the wand in your pocket next time. He has nothing on you.”

With a clink, you drop your earrings into the little ceramic plate on your nightstand.

He huffs in disagreement. “He's right about one thing: I’m of no use to the Order sitting here.”

You turn to him sharply, moving forward to sit on the bed beside him. “Forget the Order. Sure I'm not much use to it either, staying at Hogwarts all the time, am I?”

He opens his mouth to refute this but you continue talking before he can say anything.

“You’re of use to Harry. You don't realise how much he needs you,” you say softly, pulling a lock of hair behind his ear. “He really loves you, Sirius, and he is a lot better off now that you're in his life. Nevermind what Snape said — he might be doing the most for the Order, but that doesn’t automatically make him a good person. He is cruel and enjoys ruining the happiness of others. You do not, and for that you are a million times better than him.”

He leans into your touch, sighing. “I would have killed him.”

You snort, laughing. “He would've killed you. You might've been good with your wand when you were twenty, but Snape’s got a decade of practice over you while you were in Azkaban.”

He moves against your hand to press a kiss to the inside of your palm, before falling back on the bed with a loud, exasperated sigh.

“I hate him.”

You laugh. “Me too, Sirius, me too.”

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

→ all kinds of interaction greatly appreciated! ♡

not to sound like a broken record...but sorry for the delayed upload. also sorry for the sad start to this chapter, hope i made up for it later on :) happy christmas everyone! I can't begin to describe how kind everyone who has read this series has been to me. You have all been absolutely lovely and writing this would not be possible without all your endless support. I love you all ❤️

As always, the biggest hugs and kisses to my taglist loves:

@mothraantics @wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @devoid-swanky @carpe000diem @mooonyxoxo @navs-bhat

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[firsttimewriter92]

I would love a sirius x reader fic set during OoTP where the reader works at the Ministry while being part of the Order like Arthur and Kingsley, and she's staying at Grimmauld Place with Sirius. She often comes home to find him drunk and touch-starved during the school year when the only other person in the house is Kreacher. thanks xx

Hello dear anon :) I know it´s been a while since you sent me this ask. I hope you´re still in the mood for it :P I kept it pretty tame but there´s a lot of angst and it developed into a huge slow burn. Hope that´s all right and everyone enjoyes it <3

Words: 7.536

Warnings: Angst, cursing, (f!) hufflepuff reader, mentions of Sirius being bisexual, kissing, slow burn, fluff

12 Years

“Oh, for fucks sake, not again” you whisper sighed as you entered the kitchen at Grimmauld Place number 12. “Third time this week” you grumbled as you looked at Sirius´ slumped over figure sitting on the polished wooden table. His arms cushioned his head that was laying on the surface, an almost empty bottle of fire whisky next to him. No glass.

Taking off your shawl and coat you walked over to him to assess the damage. It wasn´t as bad as it usually was. At least this time he was clothed.

Three months ago, your boss and mentor Kingsley Shacklebolt had brought you to your first order meeting. The moment he told you what the order was and what they did, you exploded on him. Why didn’t he tell you about this order sooner? Didn’t he trust you enough? Wasn’t he confident enough in your abilities? Kingsley had just stood there stoically, letting you spit fire at him. When you´d finished, Kingsley sighed deeply and started explaining his reluctance to you.

He knew. Of course, he did. He knew who you´d meet again, once you set foot into headquarters and he didn’t know how you´d react. He was right to do so actually. The first time your eyes had met those of Sirius Black, it had flared up again. That nauseating feeling that haunted you for 14 years. Guilt, sadness and loneliness were flooding your system with only a small glimmer of hope and relief.

It was so surreal to have him in your general vicinity again. Two years younger than him, your time at Hogwarts had been the happiest you´ve ever felt. When puberty hit you like a freight train and the mischief of James Potter and Sirius Black became legendary, your hormones betrayed you in the worst possible way. A major crush on the black-haired teenager formed itself inside your chest over the years. Clawing at your ribcage every time you saw him in the corridors, you hated the feeling. You hated his beautiful face, you hated that your body reacted the way it did.

As a Hufflepuff and general people pleaser you´d despised his arrogance and his devil may care attitude. Especially towards the swarms of girls hanging onto the seem of his cloak. You´d stolen glances from afar, never exchanging a word with him. You paid attention instead. You saw everything and liked only so much. His pranks amused you; his bullying infuriated you, his attentiveness to his friends and the younger students warmed you. 

Sometimes, especially after the holidays, you saw him sitting in the great hall amongst his friends, a dull and empty look in his eyes and your heart had squeezed so painfully that you had to look away. About a second later, when you dared to look again, he was grinning and joking like nothing had happened.

And then, one year into your Auror training, your world came crashing down on you. You arrived at the ministry and immediately felt the air buzzing with dread and excited relief all at once. Grabbing the daily prophet that was handed to you with shaking fingers, your knees gave out then and there. Sirius´ face, screaming and laughing manically, stared at you. Ice replaced your blood as you´d read the news.

James and Lily dead. The dark Lord gone; a little boy still alive. Sirius? A cold-blooded murderer and traitor; already in a cell in Azkaban. You refused to believe it. You refused! James was more than a friend to Sirius. There was no way he was a death eater. Sirius had never made a secret about his hatred towards his family or how much he loved his friends.

That´s when your letters had begun bombarding the ministry.

__________________________________________________________

Now, here at Grimmauld place, you had to watch Sirius fight every day just to try and keep his sanity. Between the usual order meetings and the children coming to visit for the holidays, he drank himself to sleep every night. And ever since you´d moved into one of the bedrooms upstairs, you helped him into bed or at least onto a couch every night. Dumbledor was the one who´d asked you if you wanted one of the rooms upstairs. “Less commute” he´d said, remembering your dislike of apparating quite vividly. When asked if he had any objections, Sirius had only grunted before disappearing into Buckbeak´s room.

He wasn´t always unpleasant, however. Sometimes you did have conversations when meeting in the library by chance, although they´d always turned out quite meaningless. You couldn’t figure out if he wanted you there or not.

Around the holidays when the house was full, so his heart seemed to be. He warmed up to you, brought you tea, filled your plate at dinner (much to the surprise of everyone at the table) and conversed with you a little more enthusiastically. At these rare occasions you began to see glimpses of the flamboyant teenager return into his grey eyes and his small grins. Your heart beginning to flutter in your chest yet again. Then the teenagers returned to Hogwarts and so did Sirius´ sour mood.

It was about two weeks after Christmas now and therefore the 14th day of you finding Sirius black out drunk early in the evening. You walked over to the cabinet in the corner of the kitchen and pulled out the last flask of potion you´d brewed for him. It usually woke him up enough for you to be able to manoeuvre him around and lessen his hangover the next day. You hadn’t quite figured out how to make it potent enough to get rid of his drunkenness completely. It was an immensely complicated brew.

Sighing, you uncorked the flask and moved Sirius into a sitting position. He mumbled something and flopped around in your arms like a rag doll. Leaning his head back you put the flask to his mouth and poured. Sirius tried to get out of your grip very weakly and some of the potion spilled from the side of his mouth. “Come on, Sirius, please” you said urgently. “Swallow, damn it.” He finally did. When the flask was empty you gently guided his head back onto the table and waited.

You knew he wouldn’t be sober when he woke up but at least he would be coherent enough to work with. Slowly he began to stir. His head lifted and with a deep groan he leaned back into his chair, holding the bridge of his nose. The long black mass of hair on his head was dishevelled but still wavy and bouncy as it had been all these years ago. The little streaks of grey on his temples and in his beard only contributed to his still very much intact attractiveness.

Sirius wiped at his mouth absentmindedly and opened his eyes. Grey orbs found yours sitting across from him immediately. Instantly you recognized the defiance in them. Great.

“I asked you to give me that shit in the mornings. Not when I´m trying to sleep” he croaked hoarsely in a cold voice. You rolled your eyes. “I´m not letting you sleep at the table, Sirius. Not when you own a bed upstairs. But I can´t lift your arse, so…” you shrugged and looked at him challengingly. You´d figured out quite quickly that trying to be compassionate and soft with him in these situations had no impact whatsoever. Sirius huffed and wiped at his face again to try and gain more control over his movements.

“Never asked you to do that” he slurred slowly. Hot annoyance burned your throat when you answered in a hiss. “´S better than you trying to climb some stairs, falling backwards and breaking your fucking neck.” Sirius laughed humourlessly and looked you straight in the face.

“Not so sure about that.” He had a weird glimmer in his slightly sunken eyes.

“For fucks sake, Sirius!” you yelled as your fist hit the table. Sirius flinched only slightly as you regarded him with a furious look. “Could you at least pretend that you care about your own life? I know you´re lonely and frustrated. I´m sorry I´m annoying you by staying here but the order still needs you! Harry needs you!” You knew you had him with that. His godson seemed to be his only lifeline sometimes. “I won´t pretend to know what you had to go through, Sirius. But you´ve been given a second chance at this, even though you didn’t even get a first one. And you´re drinking it away. Stop it!”

Sirius looked at you for a long time. Breathing heavily his eyes threw daggers at you and internally you just waited for him to cuss you out. That didn’t happen though. Sirius stood up from his chair without breaking eye contact with you. You didn’t like the way he started walking over to you, almost predatory. So, you stood as well and backed away against the table. Of course, you´d crossed a line.

Watching him step closer and closer you had no idea what he was trying to do. The moment he stood right in front of you, his breath hit your face. It reeked of alcohol, and you crunched your nose a little bit. Sirius grinned, showing off his sharp canines.

“You´re worried about me” he sang triumphantly but couldn’t quite remove the belittlement from his voice. Even though you were sure he could feel the heat emitting from your face, your stomach churned with rage instead of shame. “At least someone is” you hissed quietly. He ignored it and only raised a single black eyebrow. You hated how good he looked doing that.

“Don´t tell me,” He breathed and leaned down closer to you. Fuck, fuck! Too close! “You have a little crush on me.” Your head snapped up immediately and your face must have betrayed you because Sirius´ face lit up in sarcastic glee. He chuckled darkly as his eyes scanned your face quickly. “Is that why you wanted to live here? Aw, that´s nice. How old are you? You couldn’t have been in my year at Hogwarts. I´d sure as fuck remember you.” Again, there they were. The waves of nausea crashing over you. Your infatuation with him mixed with worry about his behaviour started to become a cocktail of resentment and pity. You didn’t want to feel this way about him.

“Get the fuck out of my face, Black” you growled and leaned further away from him. Something dangerous mixed itself into his swirling grey irises and your stomach sank.

“Come on now, birdy” he whispered, leaning over you and talking against your neck. Your breathing faltered and hitched, your hands gripping the side of the table hard. “You´re pretty enough. You´d be a delightful way to pass the time.” Shock almost made your body convulse. You knew he was still drunk but his words were so clear. You felt cold, useless and helpless. His lips ghosted across your pulse when he spoke again. “Don´t be a prude, now.”

WHACK!

Your arm pushed him away from you forcefully before your hand collided with his cheek with full force, knocking him back a couple of steps. Breathing heavily, you stood upright and glared at him. His head was still turned so you could see his pale cheek turn red by your smack. When he looked back at you, you didn’t see rage or confusion in his eyes. In fact, they looked almost apologetically, like he knew he´d fucked up but was too proud to admit it.

Your eyes were slits when you spoke next. “Have it your way, then. I can´t deal with a three-split persona. Either hate me, tolerate me or fucking ignore me completely. But one more disrespectful bullshit act like that and I swear, Black, you´ll have one less ally here.”

With those venom laced words you turned on your heel and stormed out the kitchen and upstairs to your room.

Sirius stood there alone in the kitchen for another few minutes. The alcohol was still thrumming in his veins, but he was all too aware of what he´d done. What he´d said, even as he said it.

Of course, he knew you were right with everything you´d said. And that infuriated him more than he cared to admit. Why were you even here? After a stressful day at the ministry, you came back to a horribly decorated, dirty, uncomfortable hellhole of a house, a house elf that insulted you whenever he got the chance to and a fucking drunk man child. Every night. Sometimes he´d wondered how he´d gotten onto the sofa in the library or into his own bed after drinking. He´d had an idea that it might have been you, but he couldn’t be sure. Now he was.

You´d always made him drink the hangover potion that was in the cabinet in the corner. Had he ever thought about how it got there? Who bought or made it? He couldn’t remember.

You didn’t deserve this. He actually came to appreciate your presence over the holidays. He found you witty and bright, a delight if he was honest with himself. And the fact that you were a special kind of beautiful in his eyes didn’t help at all. So why couldn’t he allow you to grow closer to him? You clearly made an effort to at least know him better.

Bitterly he walked over to the almost empty bottle of whisky, setting it to his mouth. Thinking better of it he stopped, turned and poured the remains down the sink. There was a horrible taste in his mouth. Either hate me; He didn’t hate you. Tolerate me; He wanted to do so much more than that. Or fucking ignore me completely; How the fuck was he supposed to do that when you just…existed?!

He really needed to get his head out of his arse. That was no way to talk to anyone. You just wanted to help. Why though? He´d never seen you before. At least he couldn’t remember but then again, he´d surely lost a lot of memories back in prison. You must have been at Hogwarts.

Oh fuck, were you an old flame?! His body went rigid when he thought about that. It would kind of explain your behaviour towards his advances. Or…OR, you dickhead, she just didn’t want a sorry drunk, smelling like a distillery all over her. Sirius shook his head. Why was either rage or excessive flirting always his default? Because he didn’t think you´d react like that. He was way out of line of course, so he really didn’t think his hunch about you having a crush on him would have this much of an impact. How the hell could you like him when he behaved so poorly in front of you; when he hadn’t paid you much attention since you´d moved in?

Maybe he should start doing that.

________________________________ 

You lay in your bed that evening, hot tears running down your face and sweat beading at your forehead. You felt so lost. Had you really been holding onto this teenage version of him so desperately that you couldn’t see how much he was suffering now as a man?

It´s true, he´d never asked for your help. Were your actions overstepping boundaries of his that you just couldn’t see? He´d made you feel so insignificant that evening with just a few words. You felt downright dirty and even though he didn’t really do anything more than graze his lips along your neck, you felt used.

You´re pretty enough…enough. Was your intuition really this bad? Had you read him all wrong for all these years? No. He was drunk, he was frustrated, he was alone. Maybe someday he´d let you help him with at least that. His loneliness.

__________________________

The next evening there was supposed to be an order meeting and you were dreading it like nothing else. You tip toed around the house the whole day, praying that you wouldn’t run into Sirius at least until the Meeting started. Unfortunately, you weren’t that lucky.

When you made your way downstairs to the kitchen, you crept along the corridor quietly as to not wake up the shrieking portrait of Sirius´ mother. Just as you were about to open the door to your left down into the kitchen another one further down the corridor opened and Sirius walked out. Both of you stopped immediately when your eyes met. Your whole body went rigid and hot acid bubbled up your throat. Sirius stood still. He looked at you with an unreadable expression. He sighed deeply and his eyes changed into something calmer and softer.

He opened the door to the room he´d just exited again and waved you over. When you couldn’t move from your spot, his face contorted into a pleading look and he mouthed a ´please´, waving you over once again. And even though your legs felt like jelly, you started moving. Your heart was beating out of your chest when you passed him. You noticed he smelled clean. Clean clothes, clean hair, no alcohol on his breath or his skin.

You walked into the little study and turned around just as Sirius closed the door timidly behind him.

He squared his shoulder and looked at you. You were sure he could see your shiver.

“I have to apologize” he rumbled. “I behaved…incredibly disrespectful towards you last night and you have every right to resent me after what I´ve said.”

You stared at him. That wasn’t exactly what you expected. But it was also very much welcome. You stayed quiet, noticing that he was still trying to talk, having difficulty finding the words. So, you gave him time, schooling your features into not looking at him like you wanted to be anywhere but in his presence.

Sirius started pacing and mumbling before he looked at you again. “´S been difficult” he whispered. “I´m sorry, truly.” He hung his head, raking his fingers through his hair. “I´m not really sure what else to tell you. I-I don’t know you. But…maybe that could change? I mean, you live here. Might as well be…house…mates? Urgh” he groaned loudly and only stopped when you started giggling. He whipped his head in your direction and raised an eyebrow.

You stood there and watched him fight tooth and nail to explain what he wanted and honestly, after his apology you found it kind of amusing. Sirius was anything but insincere, so you didn’t question his motives in wanting to get to know you better. You appreciated it immensely and slowly your body relaxed, the acid in your throat started to retreat.

“Listen,” he said with a lopsided smile, his eyes glued to your smirk. “You can´t laugh at me for having terrible interpersonal skills. I was incarcerated for 12 years.” Your giggle immediately stopped as you looked at him with guilt.

“Relax” he said gently. “Sometimes jokes are the only thing that help me coping.” You nodded hesitantly.

“Did I even introduce myself properly when we first met?” he curiously asked.

“Not exactly” you said with a small shrug and a smile. “You were half drunk and just grunted.”

“Merlin´s beard” he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He stood tall and walked over to you.

“Can we start over then? Can I salvage my reputation somehow?” He stood before you. Tall, handsome and kind. His hand was outstretched.

“I´m Sirius Black. Welcome to my lovely home” he said in a deep velvety and mildly sarcastic voice that made the hair in your neck stand up. “It´s nice to meet you, ___.” It was heartfelt, the way he said it. You reached out your hand and shook his. “Likewise, Mr. Black” you said.

He didn’t let your hand go for a moment, a grin spreading on his face. One that let him look years younger, one you wanted to see for all eternity. The little crinkles around his expressive grey eyes were the most adorable thing you´d ever seen.

Sirius looked like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders when he gently guided you out of the study and down into the kitchen. “By the way,” he said as you descended the stairs. “You´ll find that my humour is kind of fucked. I´ll stop the heavy drinking, promise. So, no need to walk on eggshells around me, ´k?” He turned his head up to you, giving you a beautiful angle of his neck and the tattoos that scattered down from his ear and disappeared into his collar.

“If you´re sure” you said with a grin of your own. His eyes blitzed amusedly as the both of you entered the kitchen. What you didn’t see was the curious look Arthur and Molly Weasley exchanged when they saw Sirius pulling out a chair for you before sitting down himself.

_______________________________

 The meeting progressed and plans were made. The debate was already heated enough before Snape decided to speak. The moment he opened his mouth, your eyes rolled to the side. You resented that man with every fibre of your being. Mostly because he seemed to have it out for Sirius. Taunting him whenever he could. It was unnecessary and just plain vile.

“It´s easy for you to say, Black. You´re just sitting comfortably in your home while everyone else is either being productive or helpful. At least not all of us have to deal with your bipolar character” Snape snarled and gave you a pity filled look. You were about ready to tell him to kiss you where the sun don´t shine when Sirius spoke up. He was relaxing into his chair, staring at Snape with a victorious grin.

“Congratulations, Sniffellus. At least you got the bi-part right.”

Snorting into your wine glass you coughed several times before trying to hold back a fit of giggles. You looked at Sirius´ smug face grinning at you. His eye twitched to look dangerously like a wink and you knew that the heat in your cheeks didn’t form because of the wine.

_______________________________________

The days after became more and more comfortable. Sirius kept his promise to you not to drink excessively anymore and greeted you sober every evening when you returned. You ate dinner together and talked a lot more. You actually began looking forward to coming back to Grimmauld place every night. The kitchen was cozy and warm, soft light from candles and gas lamps illuminated the space as you sat at the table, sharing stories from your time at Hogwarts and your Auror training.

Day after day Sirius seemed to hang onto your every word more and you slowly got to know his sense of humour and therefore gradually you stopped feeling guilty whenever he made a joke about his time in Azkaban. Of course, you knew that deep down, 12 years in that horrible place left its marks, but it seemed like he was done with showing them to you.

“So,” he said one evening, cheeks tinted a beautiful rosy colour from the wine he´d poured the both of you. “You were two years under me. A Hufflepuff and a brainiac.” His voice sounded impressed. “What I can´t believe though” he said and took a swig of his wine, “Is that you were a beater in the quidditch team, and we actually played against each other?!”

You grinned and nodded. “We did. I remember it vividly. I´d just gotten into the team and our first match was you guys. You were in your last year. I tried so hard to hit those bludgers in your or James´ direction, but my strategy was futile. James was too quick, and you were too wicked on a broom” you shook your head in mock disbelieve while Sirius´ eyes gleamed with excitement.

“I don’t get it” he said with an almost dreamy look on his face. His chin rested in his palm as he spoke. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you´ve got spark but I would have recognized that in school. You told me you were a closed off and private. But then you go joining the quidditch team as a beater no less. How?”

You smiled at him. “Well,” you said amusedly and took a sip of your glass. “I was closed off, that´s true. But that doesn’t mean that I had no personality. There was a certain potential of rage. I had to let that go somewhere.” You shrugged with a grin. Sirius looked at you impressed.

He topped off your wineglass and spoke. “I´m impressed. The closed off, timid girl, grew up to be a fearless auror.” You shook your head. “Fearless is not true” you said calmly. “Fighting death eaters fearless is a stupid idea. Makes you end up looking like Mad eye” you smirked and winked at him. Your palms encased your cheeks as you spoke in a high-pitched voice. “Compared to him and looking at all this” you turned your head prettily left and right, “I was scared shitless every time.”

Sirius threw his head back an bellowed a joyous laugh. It fitted him so well all you could do was stare at him in awe. He wiped at the corner of his eyes and gasped for air. “Merlin, I really regret being such an insufferable prick to you up until now.”

“Thank you” you said earnestly. “You´re not so bad yourself.”

He smiled at you sweetly. “And we never talked in Hogwarts?” he asked. “Are you sure?” he sounded almost hopeful. You huffed laugh and shook your head. “I´m sure” you said, feeling the wine coursing through your veins, making you bold. “I avoided you like the plague.”

Sirius´s face fell, and you were quick to answer. “It wasn’t because I thought you were a bad person.” Quite the opposite actually. “More like…you were…intimidating.” He raised an eyebrow at that. “Intimidating?” he asked. You nodded.

“Yes. You and your friends…you were legendary as it was. Everyone either knew you, hated your guts or was crushing on you” you could feel your face heat up once more. “I just didn’t see the point of being one of many, you know.” You smiled at him timidly, his expression somewhat empty. “I did pay attention, though.”

A little more light appeared in Sirius´ eyes at that. “You were?”

You took a deep breath and downed the rest of your wine. Fuck it!

Nodding you continued. “Yes. I mean, you were hard to miss. But I´d often see how you joked with your friends, how you comforted the younger students. It was nice to see that side of you. It always made me wonder why you decided to act on your ´attention whore´ attitude more. But then again, I didn’t know you privately, so I don’t even know if I´m right with that.” You rushed the last sentence and reached for the wine bottle. Sirius´ hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. His fingers were strong but gentle.

Goosebumps appeared immediately on your skin. The little hairs on your forearm standing up when you looked up and directly into his eyes. He regarded you with a look full of wonder, gratitude and something pleading. “What else did you see?” he whispered, leading your hand down onto the table, not letting go. Ok, this seemed to be a little too intimate, but you were damned if you broke eye contact for even just a second. It was time to come clean.

“I saw how you always seemed different when we all came back from holiday. At least for a few years. You were always…sad one minute and then chipper the next. It looked fake.” His eyes grew wide. “I saw how your eyes would not leave Remus´ plate that you packed with food until he was done eating. That always happened after he turned.” Sirius´ fingers tightened. “How do you know about that?” he asked in awe.

You raised both eyebrows. “As I said. I paid attention. Still do.” At your words and to your utter delight, Sirius began absentmindedly stroking his thumb across the soft skin of the underside of your wrist. There was no way in hell he didn’t feel the insistent and fast beating underneath.

“I saw a lot of things that made you more than just an attention seeker to me. What I didn’t like, at all, was the bullying. James and you. You were both better than that. Sure, Snape was a little git but…sometimes you overdid it.” Sirius hung his head for a moment and nodded silently before looking at you again. An ashamed look spread across his face. “I know. We could be quite…insufferable. At that age you don’t really think about these things” he said quietly. You nodded in understanding. “I know. And I also know that Snape wasn’t exactly innocent himself. But I guess it´s no wonder he hates your guts. He´s still a bloody git, though.” You grinned at him.

Sirius took a deep breath. “You saw all that without ever having spoken a word to me?”

“Yes”

Sirius looked impressed and incredibly moved.

“´S no wonder Kingsley bursts at the seams with pride for you. I guess death eaters have no chance when it comes to you.”

Blushing hard you grinned bashfully but shook your head. “I´m not that good in the field” you said, and Sirius raised an eyebrow in doubt. “But when it comes to interrogations, if they make it that far, I´m actually very successful. I either get a full confession or at least some names. Always.” You spoke the last part with as much confidence as you could muster, hoping you´d impress him at least a little bit.

“Wow” Sirius breathed. “And you think I´m intimidating?” You giggled. “No, not anymore, actually.” He seemed very pleased with that.

You sat there for a moment in silence. Your eyes trained on his tattooed fingers still gently wrapped around your wrist. Ever tiny movement they made sent waves of shivers over your body.

“Can I ask you a question?” Sirius asked quietly. “HmHm” you mumbled, still not looking up. “Please, look at me” Your head snapped up at his tone. His eyes were filled with something so soft it made your heart quake.

“I can´t stop thinking about it…The other night, you said I was drinking my second chance away.” You nodded. “Even though I didn’t really have a first one. What did you mean by that?”

“Oh” you said and looked at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I meant your trial.”

Sirius´ eyebrows shot to his hairline.

“M-My trial?” he stuttered out? “I didn’t-“

“-get one, I know. That´s what I mean.”

He looked at you with a shocked expression before his face relaxed. A grateful smile stretched onto his lips as he looked at you fondly. Slowly, his fingers that held your wrist moved to lift your hand up to his face. Not breaking eye contact he gently but firmly pressed his mouth to your knuckles, effectively knocking the wind out of your lungs. Times stilled. The edges of your vision blurred, and a loud beeping noise filled your ears. It felt like you were about to pass out from a fever when his lips left your skin, and an uncomfortable cold ran over your back.

Sirius set your hand back onto the table and seemed reluctant as he let it go.

_____________________________________________

The next days were a blur. A happy blur. You were walking on clouds, you were dreaming so much more vividly and to no surprise, Sirius´ face always ended up being the main character. Sirius seemed much happier as well. He went out of his way to make you comfortable. For the past week now, he´d cooked you dinner and scolded you whenever you tried to help him out. He´d point his finger at you, his eyes comically narrowed and told you to sit down at the table.

It also seemed like he tried to be closer to you whenever he could. He´d stand closer to you, he´d sit closer to you, he´d guide you through doors by the small of your back. It all wasn’t helping your situation at all. He changed his behaviour towards you so dramatically, you weren’t able to stop your old crush from coming back. Not when he looked at you so dreamily sometimes, not when you both dissolved into laughter about some silly story, not when you thought about his lips on your skin.

Every time you thought about that night, your whole body started to tingle. The little flirts just came naturally to the both of you. So much so, that it was in no time, that the whole order noticed something was going on. Most of them seemed very pleased by the fact that they didn’t have to deal with Sirius´ outbursts anymore. Especially Remus. He regarded the two of you often with mirth in his eyes while Tonks almost ripped out his arm when she noticed as well.

The only thing that dampened the sugar high you constantly seemed to be on, was the fact that even though Sirius and you started flirting heavily, nothing ever came of it. In the last minute, either him or you, would draw back and either laugh it off or deal with a few moments of awkwardness. There was a magnetic pull forming between the both of you, and both of you felt it. It got stronger with ever shared meal and laugh.

These days, it got so much harder to fall asleep. Your heart beating against your ribcage so insistently that it was a herculean task to calm down. Apparently, it started to show.

You came down into the kitchen one Saturday morning with Sirius working on the stove. Even though you felt knackered, there was no way you would ever not appreciate his broad shoulders and lean back, covered by some raggedy old band-shirt. You smiled fondly at his back. He heard you approach and turned halfway around. “Good morning, darlin´.” Again, goosebumps everywhere and your heart going ballistic. “G´ mornin´” you yawned.

Sirius turned the stove off and turned to you fully. The smile on his lips vanishing when he saw you. “Are you feeling ok, ___? You look tired.” He rounded the table quickly and came to a stop close in front of you. So close. It took everything in you not to take a deep, deep breath.

“Fine. Didn’t sleep well last night” you said. Lie. You haven’t been able to sleep properly for a couple of nights now.

Sirius looked around your face worriedly. “Do you need one of those pick me up potions you always gave me? I can give you some money to go get them.” That made you chuckle. You lifted your hand and very gently ruffled the soft, black locks on his head.

“Oh, Sirius” you said smiling. “I didn’t buy them. I made them.” It took him a moment to let your spoken words sink in. His eyes went impossibly wide, then slightly damp. You retracted your hand from his head. 

Sirius couldn’t hold on. In one gentle swoop he bent down slightly and pulled you into his chest by your waist. Your arms wound around his neck in an instant. Delirious with happiness you pressed your forehead against the side of his neck and felt the vibrato of his voice against it as he hummed contently. He smelled divine. A mixture of firewood, tobacco and something citrusy. It smelled like coming home and you felt your crush bloom into something much more valuable. It didn’t scare you at all. You were cradled in his arms, his cheek atop your head, his hands gently caressing the small of your back. You could´ve stayed like that forever.

“There´s nothing I could give you to make up for all the shit I´ve put you through” he whispered into your hair. “I don´t deserve the kindness you´ve given me or are still giving.” You shook your head against his neck and wanted to speak, but he was quicker. “You make it more than bearable to stay in this house, love. I don’t know where I would be if you hadn’t decided to move in.”

You stook on your toes to be able to hug him closer and he pulled you in with a desperate sigh against your ear. “I was such a fucking arsehole to you. I´m so sorry.” Hot tears formed in your eyes when you heard his tone. “You are lonely” you choked out. “And frustrated. I get it.”

“…was” he whispered and slowly withdrew just a little to look you in the face. His gorgeous, regal features were formed into a look of gratitude and longing.

“What?”

“I was lonely and frustrated” he emphasized. “Not anymore.”

His blazing silver eyes took in the entirety of your face before closing them and leaning his forehead gently against yours. “I´m glad you´re here with me” he said before kissing your forehead and almost sending you to the ground. The tears spilled over. Sirius noticed them and used his little finger to wipe them from your face.

“Why aren´t you able to sleep? What do you need?”

“I think it´ll be a little easier now” you said with a watery smile. Sirius nodded his head, for the time being, he was satisfied with your answer.

“Let´s eat breakfast before everyone shows up for the meeting. The moment I have to look at Snapes hair, I´ll not be able to eat for hours.”

_________________________________________

The meeting went quite well. Most of the time people were calm and the plans you´d made weeks before, finally came to fruition.

You were sitting beside Sirius who´s palm sat comfortably on your thigh underneath the table. It burned your skin and made you a bit drowsy with longing, but you paid attention still.

After the meeting, some of the members stayed for dinner and drinks after. Everyone had a great time. Sirius and you stood a little to the side, close together and smiling happily.

“Well, finally” came a booming voice from the table and your head swivelled towards Kingsley. He had a dopey grin on his face, wiggling his eyebrows as he regarded Sirius and you. It was evident that he was quite tipsy.

“I really thought it would never happen. You two” he pointed at the both of you and with a hiss you gestured for him to quit it. “Kingsley” you whisper yelled while Sirius next to you just tried to bite back a huge grin. “What?” Kingsley slurred. “You could at least thank me, you know. For bringing you here. ´S the last thing you deserved after all these dumb howlers. Haha!” You felt the colour drain from your face. Oh no. Oh no. “Kingsley, shut up!” You hissed at him again. Sirius looked very curiously between you and Kingsley.

“What howlers did you send him, darling?” he asked in an amused tone.

“SO MANY HOWLERS!!” Kingsley yelled and nearly fell of his chair. “You´re lucky I started intercepting them when I became your mentor. If the committee had found out that the one terrorising them with howlers was actually an auror trainee…I tell ya. You wouldn’t be an auror today.”

“Oh Merlin, help me” you sighed. “Kingsley, please just drop it.”

Sirius´ face was filled with question marks. “What in Merlin saggy left nut is he talking about?”

Kingsley explained. “You see, dear Sirius. This one,” he pointed at you with a shit eating grin. “This one wouldn’t take no for an answer. She tried to send them anonymously and for the most part it worked. Until they set me on it. I found out it was you,” he playfully glared at you. You wanted to sink into the floor and never emerge again. “At this point I was already training you and you had so much potential. So, I made it work.” He sounded so proud of himself.

Sirius had walked over to Kingsley, still smiling and trying to figure it out. “What howlers did she send Kingsley? Why would they be so dangerous for her career?”

“Oh” Kingsley said, and his eyes went big. “Oh, you don’t know.” Sirius looked taken aback.

“I don’t know?”

“Yeah, the howlers, the letters she sent. They were because of you.”

Sirius went still, staring at Kingsley intently. “What do you mean, they were because of me?”

“Kingsley…” you tried again but your voice was too quiet. You could only let it happen. You´d try to explain it to Sirius later. That was, if he didn’t throw you out the house.

“They were trial demands” Kingsley said matter of factly and the air was suddenly too think to breath. You felt like drowning.

“Trial demands” Sirius whispered as he put two and two together. He turned to you slowly. You couldn’t look him in the eyes, embarrassment making your skin feel like it was on fire.

“Kingsley?” he asked in a dry tone without looking away from you. You felt his eyes boring into you. “Kingsley, when did you intercept the last demand?”

Kingsley hummed. “Hmmm…. the last one I got was about four days before your escape from Azkaban was made public. Before that, they came in once a week like c-clockwork.”

You heard Sirius take in a sharp breath. When he spoke next, he was calm, quiet and somehow sounded unsure. As if he couldn’t believe what he´d just heard.

“You…you tried to get me a trial…for 12 years?”

Your shoulders pulled themselves upwards as if you were trying to sink into your own body before you nodded, looking at the floor.

You heard a sniffle from somewhere to your right. It sounded like Molly Weasley.

“___” you heard Sirius say. His tone was choked up and still unsure. “Please look at me” he pleaded.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t bare the look on his face. He already knew about the crush you´d had on him in school and now he´d found out that even as a grown woman you tried so hard to get with him. He must be so appalled.

You shook your head no.

“12 years?” you heard him ask again.

You nodded.

“Every week?” His voice was closer now.

You nodded. His shoes appeared directly in front of you and you cowered back against the counter even further. “Don´t do that” he whispered. “Don’t…please, look at me.” His voice cracked and at that your head snapped up to look at him. The sight broke and healed your heart all at once.

Silent tears were running down his tinted cheeks. His eyes were swimming with something you couldn’t pin point. With a wobbly voice he spoke.

“You didn’t believe it was me?”

“Of course not” you whispered, throat tight.

“Why not? Everybody else did”

“There was no fucking way you´d betray James” you shook your head defiantly. “No way. It all fit too well. They used your family name and the reputation behind it. But I knew you couldn’t have been a death eater. I saw you…in school…” Your own voice began to crack when you thought back to the day you learned what´d happened to him.

Sirius nodded slowly. “Yes. You saw me. You saw me. You always have” Gentle, warm hands lifted to your face and encased it. Sirius looked at you like you were the only other living being in the world. Another tear fell down. “Don’t you ever, ever, call your feelings for me a simple crush” he said and smiled at you. “I didn’t know I had such a loyal warrior out there.” Your face was also tear stained by this point. You sniffed and Sirius gently shook his head.

“No more tears, my love. I´ve got you now.” And with that, he pulled your head to his and pressed his lips to yours. It was like a rubber band snapped in your chest. As your hands tangled in his hair at the base of his neck, he hugged you ever closer, lifting you a little and moving his lips more insistently against yours. This was right, this was perfect.

Open mouthed kisses were pressed against your lips slowly, thoroughly. There was no sound except for his breathing and his heart. A throat cleared itself in the background and with a groan Sirius let go of your lips, looking at you. His grin seemed excited. You didn’t have a chance but to reciprocate it.

“You know that it´s not a simple crush you have on me, right?” Sirius winked at you. You nodded in defeat and leaned your forehead against his chest. You felt his chuckle. “Come on, dove” he taunted you good naturedly. “Call it by its name. Please?”

Your eyes met his and they twinkled with a juvenile excitement you hadn’t observed on him yet.

“I´m in love with you” you said and smiled.

Sirius closed his eyes to let your words really penetrate his mind and soul. The hands around your waist tightened before he nodded with an equal smile. Again his lips met yours. This time, shorter, sweeter.

“So am I” he whispered against them. “I love you. My beautiful fighter. You´ve saved me.”

___________________________________________________________

thank you very much for reading. If you liked it, please leave a reblog or a comment so I can improve :) I´m grateful for every feedback I get. Thanks a lot

[whorediaries-09]

Helloo could I please request a fic with Sirius' girlfriend or wife taking care of him, making sure he eats enough and keeping him company, and him being touch-starved, in Grimmauld Place during OoTP? Thanks!

call it what you want

pairing- sirius black x wife!auror!reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort, fluff, touch sensitivity (let me know if i should add more) an- i love this plot so much, thank you dear anon! (also i love writing about post azkaban sirius black 😳) ps- requests are open! part two? 👺💅

masterlist

'hey love?' you called out. sirius held a cigarette between his pale pink lips blowing out smoke out of his mouth. he turned his head, looking at you when he heard your voice. but your eye's weren't fixated on his, but the ash tray that held burnt out cigarettes he'd been smoking when you'd been gone. he sat on the moth eaten sofa his tired gray eyes trying to meet yours. you sigh, flinging your bag on a chair as you walk towards him, wiping your brow with the hem of your sleeve.

'have you eaten anything dear?' you say as you sit beside him. you sit close to him, but not close enough to touch him. he grumbles something under his breath and you squint your eyes trying to decipher what he is saying.

'sirius?' you say. your hand twitches. you want to touch him, comfort him, but you're scared it will trigger him. you're scared he won't like that. you want to comfort him, it breaks your heart seeing the dignity of your husband, of the love of your life crumbling down but it doesn't matter. you want him to feel safe. you want him to feel comfortable around you till he is comfortable enough to let him touch you.

his body twitches slightly before he whispers, 'might have had a few sandwiches. i forgot,'

you raise an eyebrow. interlinking your hands together so you don't accidentally touch him, you say with a soft yet firm tone,

'and water? what about water? did you drink enough?'

'i do not remember,' he grumbles. he's twitchy and shifty while he speaks. you let out a deep breath before you conjure a glass of water and hand it to sirius.

'love can you drink this for me? please?' you inquire. his stormy gray eyes stare into yours before his hands clasp around the glass of water. he lets the rim of the glass touch his lips before slowly sipping the water. he gulps down the rest of the water and puts the glass on the table before offering you a weak smile. you smile back, furrowing your eyebrows. you see his hands twitching before he speaks again,

'i found some old polaroids,'

'did you now love?'

'yes...'

there's a silence that hangs in the air that tortures the depth of your heart but you don't break it. you don't want to pressure him into saying anything. you don't want him to feel like what his image in the wizarding world is. you don't want to ask him prying questions.

'can i hold your hand?' he whispers softly. you look at him. his dark raven locks frame his diamond cut face, the churning wood of the flames reflecting the depth of his stormy gray irises.

'are you sure?' you question back. he nods his head curtly before his pinky finger intertwines with yours. he smiles, his hollow cheeks spreading as you interlock your hands. his hand is the same as you could remember, rough, calloused and warm. you feel his body grow stiff at the contact and you try to pry your palm away but he holds it firmer. he holds your hand firm, slowly melting by your touch. he doesn't say anything, and neither do you.

you charm a flower on his ear, tucking his messy curls behind his ear. you smile noticing the crinkles of his eyes when he smiles, leaning into your touch. his nose scrunches and you think, he looks majestic.

it's a storm outside. however when he leans his head on your shoulder, the storm simmers away. it's warm inside as the both of your hearts burn with love for each other.

'i love you dove,' he whispers.

[xreaderbooks]

'Til death do us part

Pair: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: Y/n comforts her husband, Sirius, after having a nightmare, post-Azkaban. Based on THIS request.

Warning: nightmares

Word Count: 1.1k

Songs I listened to while writing: You Are a Memory by Message To Bears, Rescue by Lauren Daigle, Je te laisserai de mots by Patrick Watson

Sirius Black Masterlist - Navigation - Wattpad - AO3

You woke to the jostling and jerking from the body next to yours, the shouting and screaming came next, and your heart was already pounding at a high-speed rate due to the scare out of your sleep. You thought there was an attacker or that your home had been broken into. A ridiculous thought since you’ve been used to having your sleep cut short by your husband in this exact same state.

“Sirius,” You shook his shoulder gently to pry him out of his nightmare. “My love, wake up.”

He shoved your hands away as he bolted up into a sitting position, his eyes were open wide now, tears at the corners of his eyes. The normal silver was bloodshot from his crying and lack of sleep.

“Y/n?”

“Another one,” Your eyes softened at his state.

He brought his knees up to his chest, bringing them in closer with his arms hugging his legs. Your heart tore a little at the sight of how vulnerable and young he looked. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Your voice was slightly above a whisper. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He wiped the flowing tears as they came, “It’s the same thing, over and over again.”

Sirius has opened up to you about his nightmares time and time again when he was stable enough to speak about them. The feeling of his soul being sucked out of him was similar to how you feel when you dream about falling except instead of your heart jumping it was your spirit that was being pulled painfully away from your body. He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t wake up from the dream as you normally could when you fall in your sleep.

His chest began to heave, his breathing quickened with shallow breaths.

“You’re okay, you are just fine,” You reached out to place a hand on his chest. “You are here, you are safe.”

Sirius began to sob with never-ending tears, “I can’t- I can’t.”

You shushed him with a small shake of your head, “It’s alright, you’re alright. You don’t have to be strong right now, let it out.”

“Can I hold you?” He asked shyly. It reminded you of your years at Hogwarts together when you first started dating, he never wanted to push your boundaries, set on proving how good of a boyfriend he can be. He wanted to be gentle for you.

“Of course,” You lay back, your head on the pillows and lifting the blankets letting the cool air hit you as he laid on top of your chest, placing them on top of him. He was fully wrapped in comfort, the top of his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck, both of his arms around your middle, clutching him to you tightly.

He once compared the feeling of the dementors tearing him apart to how it would feel if you were to ever leave him. He would let you go if it was what you wanted, but that was how much it would hurt. You reassured him that you would never leave him, you were his forever. 

“I’m sorry,” He repeated in a sob. You felt his body shaking atop yours, and the back of your eyes stung, but you couldn’t cry now. He needed you to be strong right now, and you would be, just as he was all those years.

It wasn't his fault he was framed, but somehow the guilt still ate away at him as if he was the one who betrayed Lily and James. What he told Harry in the Shrieking Shack when he had finally caught Peter was nothing short of the truth, he would have rather died than betray them, and yet...

12 years apart, he blamed himself for trusting Peter, for leaving you alone. He had no knowledge of whether or not you survived if you blamed him just as everyone else had. The Aurors held you back as they arrested him but he couldn't tell by the look on your face. There was too much going on. 

12 years, you were married to a 'murderer'. You were now married to a wanted man, you weren't even able to go on a honeymoon. Your wedding was only two days before his arrest. 

“Do not apologize to me, Sirius,” Your tone was stiff and with meaning. “I’ll repeat it as many times as I have to, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Tu es trop parfait pour moi, tu ne mérites pas d'être coincé avec moi,” He muttered into your neck.

You brushed the hair that was stuck to his skin from his sweat, both of your hands working to hold his hair into a short ponytail, you had a hair tie around your wrist and tied it to his hair to cool him down. With the back of your left hand which was freer than your right that was currently running tickles up and down his back, you checked his temperature, Sirius’ body heat was running hot. To the best of your ability, you tried tugging down the blankets on both your legs.

“English please,” You teased. You loved it when he spoke French but you couldn't help but feel that at the moment it was something you weren't meant to hear. 

He unhooked one of his arms from you and grabbed a hole in your left hand, his thumb playing with the diamond on your ring. “I love you.”

“That is definitely not what you said but-” You pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I love you more, Siri."

Sirius lifted himself onto his forearms, hovering over you, his head tilted noses touching. You closed your eyes and leaned forward to kiss him but he pulled back before your lips could touch. Instead, he pecked your cheek and lay back on his own side of the bed. “Not possible.”

You went onto your side facing him, your hand holding your head up. He had his hands pressed to his eyes, you took his left hand and kissed his ring. “Hey.”

He turned his head to you, and you played with his fingers as you spoke, “I love you.”

He nodded simply, turning his head to look at the ceiling again.

“You’re never going back there, ever, I’ll fight whoever I have to.” You tried to, you were the only other person who knew who the true secret keeper was but they wouldn't hear it, especially because you had no evidence. Peter was gone, nowhere to be found. 

He chuckled, “I’m sure you will, darling.”

“Til death do us part, remember?”

He fully turned his boy to you, grabbing both your cheeks in his hands, he gave you a long kiss before pulling away and leaning his forehead against yours. “‘Til death do us part.”

~~~ translation: Tu es trop parfait pour moi, tu ne mérites pas d'être coincé avec moi ; you're too perfect for me, you don't deserve to be stuck with me.

[padfootagain]

Black Dog Neighbour

Hi everyone ! Today, we’re answering a request made for my 6k followers event by @nobodyshomearchive : “hi hello lovely xxi have been hooked to your blog lately, and to say that is an understatement in all honesty. congratulations on 6k followers <33 so for your celebration can i get an enemies to lovers (ouh massive surprise 👀) with sirius black (preferably post azkaban but it's okay if you don't want to!) cause i'm literally so head over heels for that man. and i'm loving your something good series :) again, congrats and feel free to ignore the request if you don't feel like writing it/it doesn't hit your creative spot.

have a great day/night hun <;3”

Thank you so much for your request, and I hope you like this! I didn’t do post-azkaban Sirius, because he doesn’t exist in my brain. I have been in denial for so long, the Potters are living their best lives, didn’t you know?!

Anyway, still went for post-Hogwarts and post-war Sirius, simply didn’t include anything referencing to Azkaban or… anything canon compliant, to be fair. But as per usual for me when it comes to this character…

Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Warnings: A small warning for an ex being an arse and showing up drunk on your doorstep (there’s nothing violent, but you do physically push him away, so heads up on that, just in case). But the rest’s cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute!!!

Summary: God, you hate that guy next door. Bloody annoying neighbour with his noisy motorcycle, his loud friends, his annoying laugh, his charming smile, his amazing hair, his effortless way to sport sexy leather jackets. He’s insufferable, you hate him to bits. The fact that he’s a talented wizard who can magically change into a dog to guard your door when your ex comes bothering you again will not change your first impression in the slightest, by the way. You still hate him to guts. Probably…

Word count: 4592

Sirius Black Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Sirius fucking Black.

Your neighbour, aka worst enemy, aka the person you despise the most on earth.

He is loud. He is annoyingly pretty. He is getting on your fucking nerves... again!

Of course, it is Friday night, which means that his stupid friends are over for a “boys’ night”. What a scam…

In consequence, you are currently casting sound-proofing spells all over your walls in an attempt to shush their idiotic laughs. And especially Sirius’s; his unmistakable bark-like laughter, loud and boisterous and absolutely prone to draw a grin from your face even if you don’t mean to. By Agrippa’s hat, you will soon either cut his throat or call for an auror. Or maybe you could burst into his apartment and shout into his face just so he can see how bloody annoying that is. Or kissing him to shut him up sounds like a plan, too…

You shake your head, grinning at your own genius idea. Sirius and his friends are being rudely loud again, when you have already told them a thousand times – which is to say every Friday for the last six months, since Sirius moved in the apartment next to yours – that the walls in this old building of Diagon Alley are too thin, that you can hear everything going on in Sirius’s apartment despite sound-proofing spells… and that they need to keep it down past 11pm because you have work the next day. The absolute dread of working in retails does not, by any means, spare the Wizards and Witches of this world…

You look through your apartment for the object that would make the most noise. You give a few items a try, but settle for the good old pan and spoon. Ha, what precious allies these two are, never failing you.

You add a little spell to amplify sounds – just for good measure – find some earplugs, and then proceed to bang the shit out of that pan, right by your common wall with Sirius’s apartment.

It goes on for five full minutes before you manage to catch the quietened sound of something against your door…

And sure enough, when you stop and take your earplugs out, someone is banging at your door.

“Y/N!” a voice that you easily recognize shouts. “STOP THIS FUCKING NOISE!”

You open the door wide, and have to bend to the side to avoid Sirius’s fist as it misses the door.

“Merlin! Sorry! You’re okay? I didn’t touch you, right?” Sirius asks with anger instantly replaced with worry.

“I have amazing reflexes.”

And anger is back into his dark grey eyes again...

“What the fuck are you doing in there?! Are you mental?!”

“I don’t know, Sirius. I didn’t notice anything over the cacophony of your friends shouting into my ears all night!”

His jaw clenches, and you hate yourself for noticing the trembling of the muscle there, and finding it terribly attractive…

“And you had to make all this ruckus instead of simply walking three meters to my door and nicely ask us to shut our mouths because…?”

“Because I’ve asked you dozens of times, this has been going on for fucking months, Sirius!”

He rolls his eyes, and Merlin do you want to punch him straight across the jaw… his very sharp, very pretty jaw…

“We’re just having a nice evening…”

“And I am trying to sleep!”

“It’s barely midnight!”

“I work tomorrow, you asshole!”

“Ermm… guys?”

“WHAT?!” you both exclaim, turning to face a shy-looking Remus.

“Sorry about the noise, Y/N. We’ll be more careful next time. We’ll leave for the evening.”

“You don’t have to leave…” Sirius complains, but James is already walking out, helping a drunk Peter to cross the corridor.

“It’s late, anyway. Lily’s gonna worry, I was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago,” James argues, and Sirius has to yield.

“Alright, see you on Sunday, then!” he shoots his friends a grin, and the group waves at you.

You rudely ignore them, crossing your arms before your chest. And as Sirius turns back to you, his frown is icy and he quickly matches your stance.

“You’re such a pain in my ass, Y/N…”

“And you’re a jerk.”

“Asshole.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“You’re one to talk!”

“Oh, you talk plenty enough for both of us. And loudly so!”

Before he can reply, you’ve stepped back into your apartment and slammed the door.

You hear him pestering after you for a moment, then nothing, and finally a door slamming.

Well, that went well…

You are in trouble.

Big… huge trouble.

Your ex has just stepped into your shop, and you don’t know how to react.

You didn’t break up in a horrendous way, on the contrary! He wanted the two of you to remain friends, and you simply didn’t, worried that you wouldn’t be able to get over each other if you stayed in touch. And by the look he gave you as he stepped inside your shop ten minutes ago, and the many glances he’s thrown at you since, you’re pretty sure that you were right about this.

It's not like your relationship was terrible, by any means. Josh was nice, reliable, but also… not for you. You didn’t have much in common, at the end of the day, and if his personality and looks were nice, it was hard to build a lasting relationship on… nothing. It was for the best that you called it quits.

And as if your day needed any darkening, Sirius Black chooses this very moment to step into your shop. You don’t wait for him to aim for the counter to take out a large pouch in which you have gathered all the ingredients for his friend’s monthly brew. He smiles at the sight, moves towards you. And you hate yourself for the leap your heart makes as he comes closer.

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi.”

It’s the first time you speak to each other since the ‘spoon and pan incident’, and you both hesitate. How are you supposed to act now? Apologise for being petty and kind of a dick? Ask for his apology for being a dick? Act like nothing happened?

“Thanks for Remus’s stuff,” Sirius says, voice quieter than usual, gentle, asking for a truce.

Outside, it’s snowing, winter claiming the streets of London, and there are little snowflakes caught in Sirius’s hair. It looks lovely.

All of a sudden, you’re longing for some eggnog, and some pumpkin pie.

His fingers are cold when they meet yours, tips brushing over your knuckles as he picks up the bag, and you hate your own heart for stammering.

“No problem. You know the drill,” you tentatively smile, while Sirius hands you some silvery Sickles.

“I would also need pearl dust, please. Here’s the amount.”

He hands you a parchment with quantities written on it, four small packages to be prepared separately.

“How many hearts do you intend to break with so many love potions?” you joke, turning around to get to work.

The brass scale is set on a small table, pushed right against the wall, behind the counter. It is an easy task for a professional like you, measuring quickly while Sirius laughs.

“No one, thankfully,” he replied.

“Oh… some Amortentia, perhaps? Trying to figure out who your crush likes?”

“No… nothing like that. It’s the properties for invisibility that I’m looking for.”

“If you plan on breaking into Gringotts, I don’t want to know.”

Again, a loud laugh. And you wish you could hold back your smile, but you can’t, the sound is too infectious for that.

You’ve forgotten that your ex is here, you’re reminded of his presence only when you turn back towards Sirius and he’s standing right behind your tall neighbour, a bag of potion ingredients in his hands.

You avert your eyes, and Sirius frowns at the sight. He glances over his shoulder, spots your ex, but says nothing. You only notice how he tightens his hold on the pouch.

“Pearl dust’s quite expensive,” you tell him, handing him the phials, before announcing the price.

“That’s alright.”

He hands you the galleons, takes the vials, but doesn’t step away just yet.

“You… you’re okay?” he asks, and you’re not sure what to do with his expression. It’s somewhere between annoyance and genuine concern.

“Yeah, sure.”

He nods, like he’s disappointed. He’s not bringing up The Incident, and so you won’t either.

“Right, good day.”

He turns in a hurry, not waiting for your answer, but you notice the way he throws a look back before stepping out into the street, snow falling over his dark coat and dark hair again. You hate how your eyes linger on his frame until he’s out of sight, walking down the busy street, but you can’t help it…

“Hello, Y/N.”

You’re brought back to Earth as your ex speaks, and you turn to him, your smile turning from genuine to polite.

“Hi, Josh.”

“How are you?”

“Good! Do you need anything else?” you ask, pointing at the ingredients he’s put on the counter.

“Huh… no, nothing else.”

“That makes two Galleons, 5 Sickles and 3 Knuts, please.”

He hands you some money, and you hand him his change. You see him hesitating, before diving.

“Look, I… I came here hoping to see you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I… I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about what happened, and… Look, I know I could have done better when it came to us. And I thought… perhaps… if you were willing to give me another chance…”

“Josh…”

“Just… hear me out...”

“No. I’m sorry, but no. We… we were not compatible, that’s all. I like you, you’re nice, but… It won’t work between us.”

Slowly, he nodded, apparently defeated. And when another client cleared their throat behind him, he finally left.

What a mess of a morning…

It is Friday night, and the Marauders are keeping it down. You are surprised by it, but you can only praise these men for being, for once, well-behaved. 11:30, as you slip under the covers, ready for some well-deserved rest before waking up too early to open the shop in the morning. You are ready to fall into Morpheus’s arms and abandon yourself to slumber when someone knocks on your door.

You ignore the sound for a while, but it starts again, and again…

And you thought Sirius was making some efforts. You were ready to commit murder…

You stand up, grab a bathrobe and walk to the door, ready to throw hands with Sirius at this point. Only… only, when you actually open the door, it’s not Sirius who’s facing your wrath.

It’s Josh.

“What… What are you doing here?” you ask, too stunned to think about being polite. “It’s almost midnight.”

But then he looks up at you, and you notice at once that he’s been drinking. His eyes are glimmering, he sways slightly before finding back his balance…

“Josh…”

“Y/N, I… I know that now is not the time, but… please, give me another chance. Please…”

“Josh, we’ve talked about this. Us… it’s over. We’re not getting back together. I’m sorry.”

“But I can try and be better. I’ll be better, let me show you.”

You push him off when he staggers forward, trying to hold you.

“Josh! Stop it!” you raise your voice, trying to get him to let go.

“Please…”

“I said no! Get off!”

He’s finally letting go, but doesn’t take a step back. Instead, he leans against your doorframe, not stepping inside, but making it impossible for you to simply go back in and close the door.

“Josh! Go away! I’m sorry, but this is over between us. You have to leave me alone!”

“But I don’t want to! Y/N!”

“Hey!”

You’re both distracted by the new voice that comes shouting through the corridor. Sirius is standing before his front door, wearing a Queen t-shirt and some dark sweatpants, in what you guess his is nightly outfit. Still, when he comes nearer, hair tied in a bun, glowering, he looks intimidating, tattoos all over his arms on full display, traces of ink peeking above the collar of his t-shirt.

You think for a second that he’s going to make a scene because of how noisy you are right now, not ironic at all given his habits of messing your sleeping schedule, and you’re ready to get angry at him, because this truly is the last thing you need tonight, when…

“You leave her the fuck alone!”

You’re too stunned to react when Sirius comes to stand right by your side.

“She told you to fuck off, so you fuck off!”

“Who the fuck are you?” Josh replied, words a little slurred.

“Her boyfriend,” Sirius lies, but it works wonders, as Josh becomes suddenly very pale. “Now, you fuck off, or I’ll throw you out of the building.”

“You? With him?” Josh asks as he turns to you, and you feel pity for the pain in his eyes, but you don’t regret leaving him.

“Yeah. He’s my boyfriend. Now, please, Josh… leave me alone.”

But he shakes his head.

“I can’t. I can’t. I still love you…”

Sirius looks at you, but you shake your head.

“You have to leave me alone and move on.”

“No… I… I’ll come back later…”

Sirius notices your worry, it almost looks like fear, and he doesn’t hesitate when he grabs Josh by the collar.

“You listen to me now, dickhead,” Sirius growls, it’s almost animalistic, and you’re frozen by this threatening tone of his. “If you set a foot in this building again, if you go see her at her shop, if you so much as breathe in her direction or step in the street she’s in, I will come for you, and I will make sure you can never bother her again. Do you get that?”

“You’re bluffing.”

Sirius grins, something twisted and terribly dark, and even you shiver when he speaks again, voice low and terrible.

“I fought for the Order during the war. I’m a Black. Trust me, you don’t want to fuck with me.”

Slowly, Josh nods, struggling to swallow.

“So… will you leave her alone?”

Again, Josh nods.

“Good boy. Now get the fuck out of here.”

He’s barely released Josh that he’s sprinting down the stairs, stumbling and catching himself against the wall, before disappearing.

But you don’t see that. You’re staring at Sirius, and seem unable to look away.

“You’re alright?”

You’re startled by the softness Sirius’s voice is now wearing, such a stark contrast with the threatening tone he wore a minute ago.

“Y/N? You’re okay? He didn’t hurt you, right?”

“What? No… no, I’m fine! He just… showed up and I couldn’t get rid of him.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“Thank you,” you whisper as he gets closer.

“You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, just… a little shaken, I think.”

Slowly, Sirius nods.

“Hey, no need to worry, okay? I’ll keep an eye out tonight. He won’t bother you again. And if he does, in the coming days or weeks, and I’m not around, then you come and tell me. I’ll give him a good fright, and he’ll leave you alone.”

“Thanks but… why would you do that for me? You hate me.”

Sirius chuckles at that, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t hate you. You’re annoying, but I don’t hate you.”

“Oh…”

His touch is infinitely gentle when he rests his hand on your arm.

“You can go back to sleep. Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again tonight. I promise.”

Slowly, you nod, a little too stunned to complain or argue or discuss what has just happened. Instead, you walk back to your apartment, lock the door, and go back to bed, thinking about the way Sirius’s hands looked gentle without his rings…

You’re in a hurry this morning. Your brain has not finished to process everything that has happened last night, but this will have to wait. You must rush to the shop, and you can’t find your bloody wand…

Ha! There! What is it doing under the couch? Never mind, you need to hurry, and you need to hurry now!

Only, when you open the front door, you almost trip onto a large black door sleeping on your threshold. A huge black dog, as a matter of fact.

“What in Merlin’s beard…?!”

His ears perk up at the sound of your voice, and he looks up at you with dark grey eyes that remind you of someone…

But it’s impossible, of course. That must be his dog, though. Since when does Sirius has a dog though?!

The animal slowly stands, a real giant, all dark fur and intimidating growls, until he’s shaken some sleep off its frame, and then he looks up at you, as if expecting a command.

“Hi,” you say, feeling foolish, but finding nothing better to say.

The dog merely comes closer, slowly, ears down in submission, as if he’s worried to scare you away. You hold out your hand, and he hurries to rub his snout into it, licking your fingers.

You giggle at the sensation.

“You look intimidating, but you’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

He barks in agreement, and you give him scratches as a reward.

“Who do you belong to, huh? Are you Sirius’s dog?”

The dog merely licks your fingers again.

“You look the part, at least. You fit the motorcycle-and-leather-jackets aesthetic.”

A few scratches more, and you finally remember that you are running late…

“Shoot!”

You lock the door, hurry towards the stairs. But you stop the dog when he tries to follow.

“No, no, no! I’m going to work, you stay here. I’m sure Sirius will be back soon. You stay here.”

The dog blinks, but sits anyway, letting you go.

For the whole trip to the store, you wonder who this dog belongs to, and who would let him sleep outside like this. If he really did belong to Sirius, he would hear about this…

Your day is a weird one.

After arriving almost late, but not quite, you spend your morning being busy and running around the store looking for the right ingredients for various potions and clients. And yet, several times during your shift, you feel someone looking at you.

The first time, it’s Sirius, who’s squinting on the other side of the glass door. He looks away the second your eyes land on him, and you’re almost certain that he blushes, although you didn’t think it to be possible to make Sirius Black blush.

The second time, it’s the black dog again, who remains sitting by the door under the falling snow for about ten minutes before leaving.

The third time, it’s the dog again, you see him being petted by a customer as she walks out of the shop.

But if the dog belongs to Sirius, then you guess that he’s been around several times throughout the day, which seems odd. Also, you want to chastise him for leaving the animal alone in the cold for extended periods of time throughout the day. Is he heartless?!

So, as you go home that night, you leave your coat in your apartment before heading to Sirius’s.

He answers on the second knock.

“Oh! Hi, Y/N!” he grins a welcome at you. “Need anything?”

“Yeah… I wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute.”

He merely nods, moving to let you inside.

You’ve been here a couple of times before, but you still appreciate the warm atmosphere of the large space that forms his living room. A huge Gryffindor flag is hung across the wall on the right, while windows let you see falling snow over the roofs of Diagon Alley on the opposite side of the room. A large chimney surrounded by comfortable armchairs and sofas, along with a soft red carpet seem to call for you.

“So? What can I do for you, Y/N?”

You turn to him again while he points at the sofa, silently inviting you to sit, but you remain standing. You cross your arms, and he frowns at the sight.

“Where’s your dog?”

Your tone is sharper now, and his frown only deepens, brows knitted together.

“My what?”

“Your dog. Huge. Black. Looks like he could bite my throat off.”

“I don’t have a dog.”

“Really? He’s been following me around all day. He was on my threshold this morning…”

“…Y/N…” he tries to interrupt you, but you don’t let him.

“No! Listen… Thank you for what you did last night. I was really… Thank you. Josh wouldn’t leave and you were most definitely helpful. But let’s be clear, I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself! I don’t need your protection or anything, got it?”

You wonder why he’s smiling now, but he is all the same.

“Got it. Was just trying to be helpful.”

“You were.”

“Good.”

“Good. But your good action doesn’t mean that I’m going to accept any harm coming to this cute dog of yours!”

“I thought he wanted to bite your throat off.”

“He looked like he could. He was pretty sweet, though.”

“Hmmm…”

“Anyway… what’s wrong with you!? Leaving him outside all night and then in the street while it was snowing!?”

“Y/N, relax. I don’t have a dog, let me explain.”

“Then whose dog is it? Cause we have to find his owner, I’m going to throw hands!”

Sirius laughs, his usual, bark-like laugh, and your puzzled by the sound. It resembles a bark even more than usual.

Sirius heaves a sigh, shakes his head, apparently hesitating, but eventually, he takes a step closer.

“You have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone about this.”

“Why?”

“Because if you do, I might be arrested.”

Your eyes grow round.

Oh dear… the…

“…Potion. The potion! You’ve done something illegal with it!”

Sirius laughs again.

“The pearl dust you mean? It’s just a trick for my godson, for Christmas. How do you think the presents get under the tree without anyone carrying them in? The fellow is a rascal, standing watch all night to catch Santa red-handed. We need to get more and more creative each year. No, don’t worry, it’s nothing like that.”

“Oh… but then… what are you talking about?”

“Do you promise that you won’t tell?”

“Have you killed someone?”

“Of course not!”

“I don’t know, you were pretty… scary last night.”

“Did I scare you?”

“No… but Josh was ready to faint.”

He laughs again at that.

“I haven’t harmed anyone.”

“Okay… then, I promise.”

Sirius hesitates some more, before warning you not to freak out. You don’t have time to question him though, he’s already transforming into…

“… the black dog!”

You gasp at the sight, but you don’t back away when Sirius approaches under his animagus form. Instead, you reach out for him, giving him a few scratches between his ears, making him wiggle his tail happily.

“Oh wow… you’re an animagus! This is beautiful…”

He laughs as he changes back into human, the sound still somewhere close to a growl.

“Am I a good boy, then?” he teases, making you laugh. “No need to call for the animal welfare…”

“But… what were you doing around the shop today? And last night? Did you sleep on the porch?”

Sirius averts his eyes, and you have to double-check, but you’re certain that he is blushing right now.

“Ha, that… I didn’t mean to look like a creep or anything. But I… I was worried your ex would come back. Just wanted to check on you, ‘s all. I didn’t follow you around or anything! I just… went to check that you were alright at the shop a few times.”

“Why?”

He looks up at you with a slight frown, as if it is obvious, as if you’re stupid for not guessing.

“Because… I was worried about you.”

“About me?”

“Is it so surprising?”

“You hate me.”

“Again, I don’t hate you. You’re simply annoying the shit out of me. I like it, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

You blink, trying to make sense of all this, and Sirius looks at you with amusement.

“Is that why you were quiet last night? To not bother me?”

“Oh, the boys weren’t here. Busy week. We’ll be back at being insufferable next Friday.”

You roll your eyes at that, but Sirius laughs.

“I’m joking! I understand, okay? We’re too loud. We’ll keep it down from now on.”

“Right, okay…”

He bit his lip, ran a hand through his hair, in what you guess is shyness. God, you would have never thought to use this adjective to describe him. His rings catch the warm light of the fire burning in the hearth as he moves his fingers through his hair.

“Look, I… I’m sorry for the other night. Actually… for all the other nights. We’ll be more careful next time,” he says, and you raise an eyebrow in surprise.

You never thought you would hear an apology from him, even less so an earnest one, and yet…

“Thank you, Sirius. I’m sorry, too. It was petty and uncalled for.”

“No, you… you were right.”

He heaves a frustrated sigh, runs a hand through his long dark curls again, rebel strands falling before his eyes. You hold tightly onto the sleeve of your hoodie, refraining the sudden urge to push the curls away from his face, brush them behind his ear…

“Look, I… I don’t want us to be on bad terms,” Sirius goes on. “Could I make up for being a dickhead by buying you some fancy Christmas drink? My treat. As a token of good faith and a sign for peace in our building?”

He offers you his open palm, and you shake hands with a smile adorning both of your faces.

“Deal.”

“Any afternoon free this week?”

“Wednesday?”

“Then, I’ll buy you the fanciest cocoa I can find. And even some pumpkin pie, if you’re nice.”

“Sounds good.”

You’re reluctant to pull away but have to let go of his hand.

“Actually… scratch that,” Sirius shakes his head. “Would you go on a date with me?”

Your eyes grow round.

“A date? With you?”

“Yeah. On Wednesday?”

“But… with you?”

“Don’t act so surprised. You really think I play bodyguard for just anybody?”

You laugh at that, you can’t help it, even if you’re still quite stunned by the whole situation.

You weight your options, but then you look at him again, and the answer you want to give is obvious, even if he gets on your nerves all the bloody time…

“Okay. A date. On Wednesday.”

He grins, bright and infectious.

“Great! Awesome!”

“Great.”

“Great.”

You remain staring at each other for a moment, both of you trying to hide your excitement, until you finally clear your throat.

“I should…” you begin, pointing at the door.

“Sure… busy day?”

“You can’t imagine.”

“Hmm…”

You hurry towards the door, feeling overwhelmed by his nearness.

“See you on Wednesday then!” he calls after you as you reach for your own door.

“Sure! But it better be the best hot chocolate I’ve drunk, or I’ll ask for a refund!”

He laughs, and when you turn one last time towards him, Sirius is leaning against his doorframe, staring at you with a grin on his lips and mischief painted all over his features. He winks, and your heart skips several beats.

“Oh, don’t worry. You won’t regret this.”

*********************************

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[ma1dita]

tangible

this was a request! read it here

words: 2.8k

summary: Holding onto love helps you through a difficult Order mission. sirius black x auror!reader (can be gn!reader)

warnings: mentions of blood, angst then fluff, domestic!sirius, reader gets injured, no use of y/n

a/n: guys i got really sick after thanksgiving and boy… thank you for your patience. i cannot ever write about sirius without bringing up him being an older!brother. i hope you enjoy this! working on more requests this week xx

(posted 12/11/23)

—

It’s funny, the things that cross your mind when you’re dying. Everyone says that your life flashes before your eyes. In the gut-wrenching pain in your abdomen that slowly but surely ebbs as a vignette consumes your vision, you can only think of how stupid it was to fight with Sirius before you left the house. The memory scrolls through your brain, flashing scenes from the evening playing like a black-and-white film, and you can’t hear the words, or understand the transcription of what caused it to be that bad.

To be that cruel.

When the war started, you both made a pact to never go to sleep with the other being angry. There’s not a lot of certainty for two star-crossed lovers with a poor chance of fighting fate. Sirius was always too stubborn, pushing at his luck and scoffing in the face of danger.

Why was he angry again?

Was it because you rearranged his vinyls without asking him? Or maybe because you yelled at him over how his boots tracked mud into the hallway after the rain. A tear slips out of the corner of your eye and it feels like you’ve been mulling through this question for hours when it’s only been 3 minutes. 3 minutes since a death eater struck you with a curse ripping life from you faster than you can comprehend and now the blood pulses between your fingertips as the waning pressure in your free hand feebly holds down on the gaping wound. Wand shaking at the ready in your other grasp, there’s much to think about as you lay here on the cold concrete. Labored breaths leave your lips and soon, they’ll weaken too.

Oh, what one would do for an extra 3 minutes?

With 3 more minutes, maybe you could’ve sat with Sirius for breakfast today and talked about visiting your godson if the coast is clear. You could’ve spent that time trying to make Sirius like the tiny cat that greets you at the door. Maybe you would’ve even had the time to put on matching socks before running out of there, not meeting his eyes as he yelled at you from the living room. A few more minutes of laying on the couch, or another kiss would’ve quelled this feeling in your chest. There’s never enough time, and as your heart races to compensate for the shock in your system, it becomes clear that you didn’t tell Sirius ‘I love you’ before slamming the door.

Ah yes, now you remember. He got mad because you switched partner assignments for the Order mission today without telling him until you were minutes from walking out.

—-

“We always go on missions together, why on Earth would you want that to change now?” he scathes, and the contrast between his tone and how he gently helps you button up your coat makes your stomach feel queasy.

“I’m doing this to be careful, Sirius. I’m not saying we wouldn’t get the job done, but—”

“But what, love? How is this you being careful? I think you’re being fucking stupid right now, and you didn’t even think to consult me!”

His hands are shaking as he wraps your scarf around your neck, and suddenly you’re not so sure anymore. A sense of foreboding fills the room as you stare at each other, and you catch yourself getting distracted by the gray of his eyes.

“I can do it, baby. Dumbledore said this was an important mission. This is what we signed up for.” Your hands catch his as they fall from your face and he’s reeling from the determination that’s clearly taken over common sense.

“I didn’t sign up for you walking towards your death without me there. How do you expect me to protect you?” His voice wavers and in the heat of the argument, you think it’s because he speaks before thinking, words striking like oil on a hot pan.

“I don’t need you to protect me, Sirius. I just need you to trust me and not look at me like I’m going to die!” Your reply echoes in the tiny house, footsteps clomping towards the door as you push away from him and walk out to the sound of him calling your name as you apparate.

—

A snowflake lands on your cheek and the only thing that comes to mind now is the address of your townhouse that you share with the love of your life. The quaint white house on top of the hill with the flowerbeds between the window shutters. A whimper escapes your mouth in a last-ditch effort to alert anyone in your surroundings. ‘Please help me,’ you try to think out loud. ‘I’ve got a home to get back to. His name is Sirius Orion Black, and I can’t let him go to bed angry with me.’ The words fall from your lips in a jumble, until the only intelligible words are Sirius’s name. SiriusOrionBlack. Sirius Orion Black. S i r i u s. Your desperate plea is your only prayer.

“I need to go home.” A blue wisp of light seeps from the tip of your shaking wand, your patronus fleeing between buildings to get to your love as a warning, or an apology. Hopefully, Sirius left the light on in the hallway. He doesn’t do that well with all that thinking in the dark.

Death is too quiet. Snow continues to fall silently, slowly burying you deeper into unconsciousness and the last thing you feel is your fingers stuck together with your dried blood. The last thing you hear is heavy footsteps crunching in the snow.

Has he come for you yet?

There’s no more time for fear or for crying, and your only consolation is that maybe in the next life, you can find him too and tell him you’re sorry for leaving without a kiss goodbye. The last thing you see is Sirius, or someone who looks like him, hair shorter and jaw thinner.

“Sirius…” you mumble before your eyelashes flutter with the last of your energy.

What only registers before unconsciousness is that his eyes show recognition, and the face might be somewhat wrong, but those eyes….you know those eyes. Death feels familiar now, as darkness shrouds your being, tucking you in for a dreamless sleep.

—-

Sirius Black can find comfort in a waiting room. At Hogwarts, he would always wait outside the cream curtain with the boys after Moony’s time of the month, sitting patiently with his friends. He’d be the one to drag Prongs to Madame Pomfrey after quidditch scrapes and broken bones after bludger hits. Late walks with Wormy after sneaking into the kitchens to get him more sleeping draught for his insomnia. Sirius loves to take care of others in the few ways he knows how to. He strives to give the love he so desperately wanted when he was younger, and though some of his methods are unconventional, he protects what’s important to him. There isn’t much value in material things as he’s lived unhappily with an abundance of it, and lived much more earnestly at the dining room of his little white house surrounded by his loved ones. What compares to endless riches when what he wants to protect is more tangible and has a heartbeat?

The waiting room is a liminal space where he can’t do much but fidget in the uncomfortable plastic chair. Though now with his fists clenched at his side and posture as sharp as a lash from his father’s belt, he thinks he’s been waiting for you to wake up for hours now. His eyelids droop in discomfort and exhaustion, the steady beeping of the monitor sounding like claps of thunder in his ears.

This is not the Hogwarts hospital wing, and you were not supposed to get hurt. You’re not kids anymore and St. Mungo’s doesn’t have the gentle touch of Madame Pomfrey as she tends to minor bumps and bruises. It smells of disinfectant instead of soft cotton and the lights are too bright compared to the warm fireplaces at the castle. When they let him in to see you sleeping, his hand softly nudges your blanket, tucking you into the thin polyester so you won’t get a chill. He can still feel goosebumps rise along your arm as his fingers glide over to hold your hand. For a second, he forgets the anger, and the worry, and a smile crosses his face with the idea of your body knowing him even in its incapacitated state.

Sirius gazes down at your face and thinks of the last fighting words he spat at you as you ran out.

“You’re just sleeping,” he mutters, and he’s not quite sure who’s trying to convince. The healers said that whoever brought you in came at the right time because they would’ve lost you if a few minutes more had been spared. Tempting fate and pushing luck indeed. If you were awake right now, you’d be the type to use this example to somehow further prove your argument, but he still can’t figure out why you wanted to go without him.

“Why go where I can’t follow?” he whispers, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

Later in the night, your mission partner comes to visit, but his endless apologies are left unheard as all Sirius can do is focus on your still form in the hospital bed. He focuses on the curve of your cheekbone, the faint sounds of your breath, and the rise and fall of your chest.

This, you, are tangible. You are real, and you are his.

Sirius’s eyes flicker over every movement, like a soldier standing guard for any change in the environment. Here, he will wait until you wake. Until he’s sure you’re okay.

—-

Everything is blurred when your eyes finally open days later. It had been touch and go, and what you didn’t know is that Sirius had felt like he couldn’t breathe until you took a deep breath of fresh air. He’d give you all the oxygen in this room if he didn’t have to take up some of his own. A gasping stuttered breath leaves both your lips, yours from the soreness in your abdomen, his from the choking feeling crawling up his throat.

“Sweetheart…” he sighs, and you don’t miss the tears in his eyes as he rushes forward to kiss your forehead.

Those eyes.

“You came for me,” you croak lowly, voice hoarse from disuse, but this is the only clear memory from that night.

“I sent you a Patronus and you came to rescue me.” Sirius stalls at your words as he readjusts in his chair. He remembers your Patronus tapping on the bay window of the home you share, that night you left. On his fourth cup of black coffee, he waited at the dining table to hear an all-clear, hoping you’d get home soon.

‘I need to get home,’ your voice broke through the magic of the protective spell, and he didn’t know if this was the message he was waiting for or the last he'd hear from you. Fabian and Gideon Prewett came knocking an hour later, telling him you were dropped off at St. Mungo’s by a total stranger, and they weren’t sure if you’d make it.

“I’ll always come for you baby, but that wasn’t me who found you. You were brought here by someone.” Sirius strokes your hair as your brain works to replicate the events of that night.

“Maybe it was death.” The joke falls flat as your love looks at you sternly until he hears the words that follow in your mandrake restorative draught-riddled mind.

“He looked like you, baby. It looked like Death had your eyes.” Sirius is frozen, watching you babble as he thinks of the enemy, of the idea of his sweet little brother who was once tangible to him too. Could it be?

“Held me so gently I thought it was you,” you sigh sleepily. “He took care of me.”

“He did, didn’t he?"

Sirius’s resolve shakes at the notion of a love he once protected taking care of the greatest love he’s ever known.

“I didn’t fall asleep angry, Siri.” Your hand pats around the blankets searching for his, and when you find him, he drops his head over your chest gently to listen to the sound of your heartbeat.

“I haven’t slept at all.” He holds you, one hand in yours and the other in your hair, and it reminds him that this is real, you’re breathing, and everything will be okay.

—-

“What made you do it? I never got to ask you.” You’re pouring maple syrup over your pancakes as Sirius cuts into his eggs one morning after you’ve been discharged from St. Mungo’s. Maybe becoming an active member will be a part of the discussion again once the scar the size of your fist doesn’t scare you when you look in the mirror, or when you’re able to sleep through the night peacefully. Gentle hands pick up your napkin, wiping crumbs off your cheek as you chew on your lip. It all sounds stupid now that you have to put it into words, but now that you have some time…

“I had this fear…that once we start a family together, it would be scary to see you die. So I thought it’d be better to go on missions with different partners.”

Sirius looks at you deep in thought, and his answer is without hesitation.

“Why would I leave you? If we die, I’d rather do it together or not at all.” The notion of this conversation being part of real life becomes funny to you as you mop up some butter with your fork. Domesticity is a privilege neither of you thought you’d be lucky to see.

“Baby, but if we both die, who would take care of our child?”

His eyes widen and fall to your stomach, and you throw the napkin at him in offense.

“Idiot, you wish! Who would take care of Mittens?” His laughter fills the small house and with it, your fear of death dissipates. After all, you’ve faced it once before, and it’s somehow comforting to think of him being with you next time.

“Mittens…Baby, is that the scrawny black cat you feed in the garden?”

You nod matter of factly, “Him and our future very real kids too. What then?”

“You fought with me and almost got killed over a tiny thing that stomps through my flowerbeds. My love, if you think I’m ever going to let you fight any more death eaters without me right beside you… That’s your time off included. Not letting you out of my sight.”

“Well if I’m not going on missions, neither are you!” You say sarcastically, but Sirius actually agrees.

“Right you are. Can barely walk straight and this time it’s not my fault.” He smirks as he kisses your wrist and you slap his cheek lightly.

“You’re lucky you’re a good nurse.”

“I am lucky, and I love taking care of you. You should stop fighting me on it. I’m not doing life without you.” Living with him this long doesn’t impact the rise of the blush in your cheeks, and that was that.

—

Later, Sirius washes the dishes and hands them over for you to dry. The two of you were meant to meet Remus for tea by now, but something black darts across your vision. Mittens peers through your kitchen window, stomping on a petunia before blinking at you curiously and you can’t help but laugh.

“Stupid cat,” he grumbles, throwing the sponge at the window, and Mittens’ tail sways teasingly, daring him to do something about it. Being more thoughtful of how you spend your time, you notice the cat has gray eyes too. Your eyes flicker to the clock above the stove, and instead of panicking, you turn to kiss Sirius’s cheek.

Both of you are living on borrowed time, but as you lean into his embrace and he grazes over your waist, you can’t help but think, well, what’s another 3 minutes?

—

"I thought pain meant that I was not loved. It meant I loved." -Louise Glück

taglist (OPEN!) : @jsjcue

[i-wanna-write]

12 Years - Sirius Black x Reader

Prompt: Reader and Sirius reunite after he’s been imprisoned for 12 years. Featuring touchstarved!Sirus

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any cuss words. Naked Sirius? Just lots of Angst and fluff (that’s been my mood the past few days if you couldn’t tell lol)

Words: 2140

————————————————————————

When Remus came barging into your quarters at Hogwarts, your initial thought was that the school was under attack. The past 2 years have been eventful to say the least. From having a troll in the bathroom to students facing a three headed dog, to students venturing into the woods and seeing Aragog - the past 2 years could easily rival your 7 years at Hogwarts. All you had to do was throw in a war with an evil wizard and this generation of wizards would beat your generation in a landslide.

You never would have guessed what Remus was going to say.

Sirius Black was here. The rumors of him tearing at the fat ladies portrait and scaring poor Ron Weasley were true. He was on Hogwarts grounds and was apparently not going after your mutual godson but rather a rat.

A rat missing a toe.

Sirius Black cornered three students in the shrieking shack with the mission to kill the rat - to kill Peter Pettigrew. Only Severus Snape showed up and justice was not able to be served.

Because of course Snivellus had to ruin it.

So Remus quickly detailed the nights events to you, about how Peter was the one who betrayed Lily and James. How Peter cut off his arm and framed Sirius for their murder. How Remus finally believed in Sirius’ innocence. How Harry unwanded Snivellus and knocked him out to hear Sirius’ side of things. How your godson saw the truth and believed his godfather.

Believed your husband.

Your husband who spent the last 12 years in the worst prison of the wizarding world. Where dementors kiss you daily, stealing away your happiest memories to eventually lead you to being a shallow shell of your former self. Where wizards and witches go to but never return from.

Remus informs you of how Sirius escaped Hogwarts. With the help of your godson and his friends, he was able to fly away to safety on a hippogriff. He was able to evade the Aurors and be free once again.

Free but still wanted.

You never would have guessed that after all these years the truth would come to light. That 12 years of you knowing that Sirius was innocent, a few others would believe it too. He’s no longer being tortured day in and day out by dementors, just sitting and waiting for them to steal all of his happiest memories. If only there were dementors that stole those sad, wicked ones away. You’d welcome their kiss any day.

Your husband, the love of your life, is no longer a man held captive. At least not physically. You’re terrified of what you're about to find as you leave Hogwarts. Once Remus quickly told you the nights events, he informed you that he told Sirius where to go, where he would be safe for at least a few nights

All that leads you to know. Grabbing a hand full of floo powder, you throw it into the fireplace in your quarters, quickly saying, “Saffen Cottege.”

————————————————————

You arrive at your cottage and immediately step out of the fireplace. Your heart rate picks up as you realize in seconds or minutes you’re finally going to see him after all these years. And you're terrified of what you're going to find.

Slowly walking through the living room of the one floor home, you freeze as you hear a noise. Reaching into your back pocket, you take out your wand and hold it in your hand as you turn the corner to enter the kitchen.

There, sitting at the table with a bowl of something in front of him, is Sirius Black. Is your husband.

You lower your wand as tears fill your eyes. Your husband has always been a handsome man. Years of blood purity will do that to your genetics. 12 years ago he had an athletic build with muscle definition in every area. His hair was just about to his shoulders, slightly curly and as black as the night sky. You remember his gray eyes, so bright and full of life and mischief. How his pale skin was flawless except the many tattoos he donned.

The man now sitting at the table is anything but.

“S-Sirius?” You say quietly, not wanting to spook the man.

You watch as he freezes. The spoon full of what you think is soup halfway to his mouth and his body tense. You watch as it clatters onto the table, the contents spilling. The man at the table turns towards you and more tears freely fall.

Your E/C eyes meet gray and you watch as the man swallows. His whole body seems to fold into itself, trying to appear smaller as he looks at your appearance.

You know what he sees, what 12 years of losing your spouse has done to you. You're thinner than when you were in your twenties but still a healthy weight. Your H/C hair is now speckled with gray streaks and you have some wrinkles on your face. Teaching for the past 10 years at Hogwarts will do that to you.

“Y/N?” Sirius questions and you sob at hearing his voice for the first time in what feels like forever. “Are you really here? Is that really you?”

You can only nod, no words able to come out of your mouth. The man raises from the table and slowly walks towards you, him now not wanting to spook you.

The years have not been kind to him. You have imagined what he may look like in his thirties but this wasn’t it. So much thinner than he once was. His face shrunken and hollow with dark circles under his eyes. His black hair has gray and appears to be matted. His face is covered in dirt and jaw lined with stubble. He’s clothes are his prison attire and filthy, no doubt the only thing he’s worn in a long time.

He reaches his hand out tentatively, as if afraid you will disappear before he can touch you. Your hand meets his halfway and when your fingers touch, a damn bursts inside of him.

“You’re really here.” He sobs.

You can only nod and pull him into you, wrapping your arms around his waist as his come to do the same. So many years of not touching him and he’s finally here, in your arms. You just hold onto him, afraid that if you let you he’s not going to be real and this is all just going to be a nightmare. He feels so skinny, so skeletal under your hold. Your heart just continues to break.

The two of you stand like this for minutes. Neither one of you wanting to speak or let the other go. It isn’t until a noise is heard from another room that you pull away, your wand out.

“There might be a hippogriff in one of the bedrooms.” Sirius states, a mischievous look that you missed so much dancing in his eyes.

You laugh. You let out a fully belly laugh that you felt you haven’t done in ages.

“Then I guess we’ll have to head to other one.” You state, reaching out your hand again for him to take. “That is, if you’re finished eating.”

“I’ll go wherever you do.” He promises, taking your hand and allowing you to lead him from the kitchen and down the hall.

Your hand doesn’t let his go. You can hear the hippogriff and you're glad it’s in your guest bedroom as you open the door to yours. The room is the same as when you left it last. The queen bed sits in the middle with two bedside tables on either side. The curtains are drawn closed and the scent of cinnamon fills the room due to a charm you learned back in your 3rd year.

“How would you like a bath?” You question, turning to face your husband.

He doesn’t speak but nods, not letting go of your hand. You lead him through the room to another door and open it, revealing the bathroom. You turn the light on and walk toward the tub. You turn the water on and wait for it to reach the perfect temperature before closing the drain so the tub can fill.

You turn back to look at Sirius and see his gaze on the floor. You squeeze his hand lightly before letting go, walking to the sink and grabbing a washcloth and towel underneath it and set it on the toilet.

“I’ll wait in the bedroom while you bathe.” You speak softly, moving to leave the room.

Sirius suddenly grabs your arm and you stop, facing him and seeing the slight look of fear on his face.

“Do go.” He says, chewing on his bottom lip. A habit you learned 2nd year he does when he is nervous. “I - I don’t want to be alone.” He says quietly, gazing moving back to the floor.

“Then I won’t go anywhere.” You assure him.

You walk over to the toilet and sit atop the towels, closing your eyes to signal for him to undress. You hear the sound of him pulling his pants down and stepping out of them. You then hear the sound of his shirt hitting the floor before the slight splashing of water.

“You can open them now.” He says softly.

You do just that and look to see your husband sitting in the bath. You can’t help the gasp that escapes you. This lighting is brighter than the kitchen and now naked, you can see just how much damage Azkaban had done to your love.

His tattoos are not longer vibrant but rather dull against his even paler skin. Across his chest is a new one, indicating he’s a prisoner. His chest is sunken in and he’s so skinny you can see his ribs sticking out on either side. He appears to be a talking skeleton.

“Not as handsome as I once was huh?” He says self deprecatingly, a bitter laugh leaving his mouth.

“Stop that.” You scold, raising from your seat on the toilet only to kneel before him outside the tub. You reach into the water and grab his left hand, holding it with both of yours. “You’re always going to be the most handsome man to me. 12 years apart will not change that.” You reassure him.

He stared into your eyes, seeming to be searching for something. He shakes his head.

“12 years. 12 years of my life are gone. I missed out on life and all it had to offer. On Harry growing up. I missed out on 12 years we could have had together. And now I’m a 35 year old man who’s wanted for murders he didn’t commit.” He says bitterly.

You lean your head forward, resting your forward against his and close you eyes.

“Let’s not think about that right now.” You say, your heart finally breaking into two at the words he just uttered.

He feel him nod against you. You pull away and let him go, opting to just sit right outside the tub as he cleans himself.

You’re not going anywhere.

————————————————————

Food in his stomach and now washed, you lead Sirius out of bathroom and back to the bedroom, hand once again in his. You pull the covers back and scooch in to lay in the middle so he can lie on the left side.

He follows your lead and gets in, a sigh leaving him at the feel of the comfortable mattress under his pained body. You turn to lay on your right side and just look at him, watching as he’s laying on his back, body tense and staring at the ceiling.

“Hey.” You start, reaching with your left hand to carefully guide his face towards yours. “I’m right here.”

His gray eyes seem so sad, so lost and your heart can’t take it. You bring your left leg up to drape it over his waist and move your left to bury it in his wet hair. You guide his head down to rest underneath your chin as you scratch the nape of his neck. He always loved when you did that both as Sirius and Padfoot.

You soon feel him begin to relax and shift his body so that he’s laying on his left side, now fully facing you. You feel his right arm move so it’s on top of your ribs and wrapped around you. He lets out a sigh and you move your head to press a gently kiss to his forehead.

“12 years are over Siri.” You whisper. “All we have now is forever.”

You then let your eyes close, and sleep takes you for your first peaceful night of sleep in 12 years.

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[cherryslyce]

Second Son (VII) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: The summer before your sixth year is another fruitful one spent at Grimmauld Place. Regulus and Y/N have an insightful conversation and grow closer than before.

Part VI / Part VIII / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Cheers to another summer break! The not canon compliant warning is starting to become more apparent. The slow burn is burning a bit.

The weeks following the confrontation at the Ministry left the Wizarding World at a standstill, the alleys and streets seeming to grey and titter in jumbled whispers and conspiracies. Minister Fudge could no longer make a public enemy out of Harry, having witnessed the return of Voldemort for himself. Unsurprisingly, Fudge resigned shortly after Dumbledore was reinstated. 

Despite the retreat of public scrutiny from his back, Harry fared no better than he had the summer before, conceivably managing far worse. You don’t remember much after Sirius’ attack, only that Luna quickly rushed to your side and grabbed Regulus’ portrait from your hands, hiding it in your jacket as Auror Tonks made her way over to your glass-eyed form. 

You could never thank Luna enough because you distinctly remember being unable to feel your limbs due to shock, and you’d rather not have to explain your portrait predicament. Tonks’ words barely registered, but you heard one thing loud and clear: Sirius was not dead. 

But he did not get better. 

Currently, he occupied a suite room at St. Mungo’s, his consciousness torn away as he remained in a frigid coma. After Harry had recovered from his clash with Bellatrix and Voldemort, he had nearly tackled you to the ground, realizing that your quick thinking to grab Sirius with your spell was the only reason he was still alive. 

Breaking the news to Regulus was difficult since you knew how much he loved his brother, despite the strained relationship they had. Regulus was devastated by the news and he seemed to pale further when you told him that it was Bellatrix that got him. Pureblood family issues were so complicated. 

After your brief conversation about Sirius’ status, neither of you had the energy to talk about Regulus’ disappearance, so you ended up pocketing away his portrait. 

Despite the relief you felt because Regulus was back with you, you couldn’t bring yourself to face him just yet. Your reluctance to face him again led you to leave him in your pocket for a few weeks without talking to him. 

However, you knew you’d have to face him eventually, and it was just the opportune time to do so. Harry and the Weasleys were going to spend the summer at the Burrow, but you pleaded with Dumbledore to allow you to return to Grimmauld Place under the guise that you would research ways to help Sirius. 

Bellatrix had hit him with a highly complex dark curse, one that was foreign to the healers at St. Mungo’s, meaning that it was likely a curse found in the Black library. 

Your excuse wasn’t a lie, but it was far from the whole truth. You also wanted to further explore your magical connection with Regulus and the disappearing room, still perplexed by the wisp of magic you felt last time. But it seemed that there was little use hiding that fact from Dumbledore, as he gave you a small, all-knowing smile before giving you permission, “The world seems to have strange ways of bringing people together. I do hope you find what you are seeking.” 

At first, your heart nearly gave out because you assumed that he had used legilimency on you, but your ring gave no indication of it, so you presumed it was just a Dumbledore thing. 

It seemed that Dumbledore and Luna were aware of Regulus’ existence to some degree, which was no surprise, one was a legendary wizard, the other an understated seer. Their knowledge only served to worry you though, as you weren’t confident that Voldemort was none the wiser to Regulus’ existence now. 

If Dumbledore knew with what limited time you spent around him, there was no doubt Voldemort was itching from suspicion. 

Vengeance was practically Voldemort’s middle name (even if Harry insists that it’s Marvolo). You still had no idea how Regulus had wronged Voldemort, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to find out for the sake of your own sanity. 

As the green flames engulfing your vision slowly dissipate, you carefully step out from the floo network and brush away the ash from your clothing. Spinning around, you faintly smile at the nostalgic environment. Grimmauld Place was far from a welcoming home, but it had a certain knack for bringing along pleasant surprises. 

Before you can set out to dive into research, a popping sound has you whirling your head downwards towards the noise. 

“Master Regulus’ friend is back” Kreacher’s voice is tuned with surprise, but he looks pleased to see that you’re alone, evidently still not as accustomed to your friends or the Order members. You were secretly quite flattered to have the elf’s approval–not that you’d ever admit it to anyone. 

Grinning down at the elf, you wave as he moves to grab your trunk, “Hi, Kreacher. I’ll be here awhile, I need to research a few things to help your Master.”

“Help Master?” Kreacher turns his eyes to you in apprehension.

Nodding solemnly, you release a small sigh before answering, “Yes, he’s been in an accident.”

At your words, Kreacher’s grip on your belongings loosen, turning to look at you with a face full of anguish, “What is wrong with Master Regulus?!” 

Sputtering a little from shock, you quickly placate the elf, still reeling at the fact that he was capable of that much worry, “No, no, Regulus is fine. I’m talking about Sirius, he was cursed by a dark spell and the healers don’t know how to fix it.” 

Kreacher’s tense form relaxes considerably and he grunts, turning back to his task of gathering your items, “So, Master Sirius still breathes? Pity.” 

Expecting a far more violent response at the news, you simply nod, allowing silence to blanket between the both of you. You briefly considered asking the elf if he was knowledgeable of Bellatrix’s ledger of favorite curses, but decided it would be your last resort. 

You weren’t sure if Kreacher would be of much help considering it involved Sirius. 

“Kreacher, I’ll be in the library. You can put my things in the guest room I stayed in last summer.” Your words are met with a slight nod and that’s all the sign you need before you’re bounding up the stairs and in the direction of the expansive library. 

Much of the content filling the shelves of the sealed library were enigmatic, but you hoped that you could kill two birds with one stone and find information for both of your goals. How lucky that both of your problems involved the Black brothers. 

As you trailed through the aisles of shelves, running your finger along the leather-bound books, you sighed as you realized you were putting off your chat with Regulus. At first, it was truly because you didn’t know how to breach the subject of his portrait traveling, but now it was also because you felt guilty for avoiding him for so long. 

Rip the bandaid off, stop stalling or he’ll really leave this time around. 

Reaching into your jacket, you carefully extricate the frame out of your pocket, bringing it to eye-level. Plastering on an unsure smile, you feel relief flush through your veins as Regulus greets you with his own soft smile. 

“Little bird, it’s been a while.” Regulus’ voice is smoother than you remember, and you find yourself shuffling around as your heart begins to pound uncomfortably. Bloody crush giving you heart palpitations. 

“Hi, Reg. It has been. I’m sorry for not talking to you sooner, I’ve just been thinking.” Even though your excuse was flimsy at best, Regulus shakes his head firmly, as if all was forgiven on your part. 

Warmth shines in his eyes as he alleviates your worries, “It’s not your fault, it is entirely mine for mindlessly leaving you alone that day without a word.” 

Shocked by his initiative to bring it up first, you can only nod mutely as he continues, “I’m sorry, Y/N. My reason for leaving…it was entirely childish, and these few weeks of not communicating with you allowed me to contemplate some more. I want to be honest with you, if you’re up to hear it.”

“Of course, and I want to be honest with you as well, Reg.” Your nod and soft smile seem to strike a chord in him, causing him to emit a low laugh of fondness. 

Tilting his head to the side, his eyes seemed to shine brightly at you, “You’re always honest with me, little bird. I think I owe it to you—to us, to be transparent this time around.” 

You have to make a conscious effort to stop his ‘to us’ from replaying over and over again in your head. 

Huffing in playful annoyance at his ability to endlessly fluster you, you decide to take a stab at his declaration, “Alright, if you’re sure, then…I guess we should start with the most obvious question, why did you leave that night?” 

Dragging his hand up to tuck a loose curl behind his ear, he gives a little pause before answering you, “I was scared.” Seeing your confused look, he continues, “I was scared because…your injury. When I saw it, I was furious–and not at you, but towards Umbridge. I was terrified because I care for you… so much, but there’s nothing I can do to help you in those kinds of situations.” 

He cares. It was so different hearing it verbalized by him. 

The stress weighing on you seems to melt away, the furrow between your brows letting up as you lightly come to your own conclusion, “So you left because you were angry.” 

He shakes his head lightly, “It was not just anger, but also fear. Frankly, I feel a sense of devotion to you and I was frightened by it. I left because I thought that it would be logical to languish my connection to you, but I realized how foolish my thoughts were. I am stuck with you, just as you are stuck with me.” 

His words were genuine, but you could tell he was dancing around a deeper meaning. Still, you were glad for his honesty. It was a step forward in your relationship. 

You feel yourself getting choked up by his announcement, but before you can even muck up a response, he continues, “I was anxious that day, before I even took notice of your wound. Before you casted that muffliato, I had heard the blast and thought that you were being attacked. But I waited to hear your voice, maybe a reassurance that it was all okay. When everything became muffled, I was worried that you were hiding everything from me because something was happening to you.” 

“Oh.” Well, when he put it like that, it’s no wonder he was so furious that day. 

He nods at your realization, finishing his explanation quietly, “You are so kind, little bird. Even in that moment where you could have been in danger, you still put your consideration for me first. It’s scary to think, but I know…I know that I would do the same if the roles were reversed.” 

“You know that I care for you deeply as well, Reg. We’re in this together.” It comes out slightly watery, but your words are firm and the vulnerable glint in your eye eased Regulus’ tension. 

Reinvigorated by Regulus’ words, you decide to bring up the topic that had been troubling you for a while, “I was honestly unsettled by my attachment to you as well. I’m unsure of what to make of it, some days it feels unreal. I just don’t understand it all because logically, you’re a portrait, but deep down, I know that there is so much more to you. You’re not like any ordinary  portrait I’ve stumbled upon.”

Nodding as if expecting the topic to be brought up, he straightens up and clears his throat, “I suspected you felt this way, and honestly, I’m not entirely sure why I’m so different. I know there might be a few possibilities as to why, but I feel as though I am missing a part of the answer, myself. When I left you that night, I was able to spy on a few portraits in the castle. Of course, I couldn’t reveal myself since they would have recognized me, but, from what I observed, most portraits are not as…dynamic as me. Even the most complex ones at Hogwarts seem to be entirely derivative.”

Not quite expecting Regulus’ loss for answers as well, you can only seem to reach one conclusion, “So the answer to all of this…it happened shortly before your death then?” 

“Yes, it’s highly likely. After all there was a two week gap of radio silence between the last visit from my living-self and his untimely death.” Regulus’ confirmation has you suppressing a groan. It seemed like you wouldn’t be getting a clear answer so easily, but perhaps Regulus left clues on the research he was doing before his death around the library. 

Humming as you feel a headache coming on, you decide to let the topic drop there, “It’s okay, we don’t need all the answers right now. But I’m glad we had this conversation, and I hope that in the future we can continue to be honest with each other.” 

Regulus smiles at you, “Of course, little bird. But I’m curious, any news on my brother or about the Dark Lord?” 

A small frown tugs at your lip as you’re brought down to reality, “No changes in Sirius’ condition, but I’m hoping that maybe we can find some clues here. Unfortunately, Voldemort is making his move in bold ways, he’s truly an incisive foe. He murdered Amelia Bones last week, it was all over the press, even the muggles covered it.” 

Taking notice of how your voice catches at the end, he returns your frown, “I didn’t know you were fond of Madam Bones.”

“I was quite partial to her morals, and she was an accomplished witch, to boot. Plus, I know her niece. She has no guardian now. Voldemort murdered her parents during the war.” Shaking your head at the turn of events, you can’t help but feel a sense of unease at Madam Bones’ death. 

Voldemort was moving rather quickly. There was no telling what his next move was going to be. This wasn’t the first time he was able to strike down a famously powerful wizard or witch, even in his revived state, he was just as remarkable of a wizard. He was slowly removing the pillars that held up the Light side’s confidence, at this rate, Dumbledore was going to be the only one left to look to. 

No use in overwhelming yourself, take it one day at a time. 

Lowering Regulus’ portrait slightly, you begin to peruse through the book titles on the shelves, trying to find anything synonymous for “dark curses and hexes”. You were hoping that the search for the curse would be quick, but unfortunately, it seemed that the entire library was just pooling to the brim with parchments about the Dark Arts. 

“Hey, Reg. Do you have any idea where Bellatrix might have learned such a troubling curse? Any area of the library I should focus on?” Your words were meant as more of a joke, but Regulus’ contemplative expression has you stopping in your tracks to focus your attention back on the boy. 

Rubbing his chin, he seems to map out some ideas in his head, “During our last conversation, the day Sirius was cursed, you said his muscles seemed to constrict before he went limp and then he dropped into a coma?” 

You nod in confirmation at the pointed assessment, wondering just how useful the symptoms could be at narrowing down the possibilities.

Why couldn’t Bellatrix have used another curse of milder lethality with far more ridiculous effects? Coma, really? Why not puking up tarantulas or something? While it would make for a ghastly sight, it would be ridiculous enough to make the hex more apparent. 

After a few more moments, Regulus seems to have a lead of some kind, “I don’t have an exact answer, but it does remind me of a time when I was younger and Bellatrix would talk in circles about experimenting with soul magic. She wanted to impress the Dark Lord, so it’s no doubt something of that caliber.” 

“Soul magic?” You punctuate the words in disbelief, realizing that the circumstances might be far more dire than anyone could have fathomed. 

Realizing that you had no idea where to even begin, you decided to enlist some help, “Kreacher!” You weren’t exactly sure if it was necessary to yell, but the action soothed some of the stress you were suddenly feeling. 

A pop echoes around the library and Kreacher stands before you in mild irritation, “Kreacher has been called?” 

Placing a hand on your hip, you try to seem authoritative with your command, “Yes, Kreacher I need your help. Could you gather up all the books on the property that concern soul magic or soul hexes?” 

The elf’s eyes seem to light up at your words, clearly thinking that you were taking interest in the Dark Arts. The prospect wasn’t exactly improbable, but you were much too reluctant to choose soul hexes as an introduction. 

“As you wish. Kreacher will begin right away.” After giving you a razor-sharp grin, he’s gone in the blink of an eye and you hear a distant pop ring from deeper in the library. Hopefully, Kreacher could be trusted to keep your little research topic a secret, you would not fancy having to explain to your friends why you were researching such a dark subject amidst Voldemort’s return. 

As you begin to make your way out of the room, you bring Regulus’ portrait back up to your face, “Reg, there’s something interesting I discovered the night you left. I was wandering around the castle-” looking for you “-and I spent the night in the Room of Requirements. Except it wasn’t exactly the Room of Requirements.” 

Regulus looks both intrigued and full of reproof at your words, compelled to hear about your adventures, but displeased by your decision to break the rules and risk being punished further. 

Brushing aside his concerns, you continue, “Well, while I was wandering around, I was thinking about you and where you might be, and the room that ended up appearing was the disappearing room that your portrait was originally in.” 

Finding yourself in the kitchen, you carefully prop Regulus up against an empty fruit bowl before rounding the table to raid the cabinets. To your utter dismay, all the cabinets are empty, save for one filled with numerous knives. Groaning at the lack of food, you decide to plop back down in front of Regulus, cradling your empty stomach pitifully. 

Shooting you an amused eyebrow raise, Regulus seems to consider your findings as you continue to mope, “That is fascinating. If it was truly the same room, then it must be as a result of something my human counterpart did whilst he was still alive. When I was first painted, the room already existed–that much I know. Although he was the only one who ever came into the room, I thought very little of it at the time.” 

“It seems that all the answers about the strange magic surrounding you and the disappearing room vanished with him. How frustrating.” Your groan is cut off with a loud grumble from your stomach, causing you to slap a hand to your middle bashfully. 

Entertained at your embarrassment from the strident noise, Regulus chuckles before putting you out of your misery, “Kreacher will be awhile with the books. It’s fine, go out and grab some food, we can talk after you’re done.”

Nodding glumly at his suggestion, you quickly pocket his portrait and feel around for your pouch of galleons. Once you’re ready to head out, you grab a handful of floo powder and ready yourself for human interaction. 

Merlin, you were so looking forward to being a recluse the entire break.

The feeling of becoming a hermit only grew as the rest of the summer dragged along. Kreacher managed to snag a little over a dozen books about soul hexes and magic for your research, keeping you occupied indoors for a majority of the break. 

You only managed to stay sane because Regulus kept you company, and for that, you could never repay him enough. 

The last few days of July flickered by and soon you were preparing yourself to enter the familiar floo network to make your way to the Burrow. It was finally Harry’s 16th birthday, and you intended for it to be a happy one, needing some semblance of normality as war shifted on the horizon. 

“Little bird.” Regulus’ voice pierces through your concentration as you finish taping the last fold of wrapping on Harry’s gift. 

“Hm?” Your distracted hum has him rolling his eyes playfully. 

Tilting his head, he finally speaks up once your eyes meet his, “You do know that there’s a spell to do the wrapping for you?” 

“What? And miss all the fun?” Your teasing words have him looking unimpressed, “Besides, it has more meaning to do it by hand, Reg. You can see all the little imperfections, for example, this little uneven crease on the bottom.” As you show him the bulky wrapping, he can barely disguise his look of amusement.

Shaking his head, he crosses his arms as a pensive look crosses over his expression, “We should try something before you head out.” 

Tying a silk ribbon around the wrapped gift, you peer up at him in interest, “Sure, what’s on your mind?” 

“I think we should try out those charms you found a while back.” His words surprise you since you figured he still held reservations about the risks of the Mens est Oculus charm.   

Sitting up straighter and reaching for your wand, you can’t help but voice your confusion, “Not that I’m opposed to it, but why now?” 

“It would put me at ease to be able to talk to you, just in case.” His words are touching and you’re much too pleased to dismiss his concerns. On the one hand, you were only going to the burrow, on the other, you were aware of how risky it was to be out and about since death eaters were slowly strengthening their forces. 

Giving him an understanding nod, you furrow your brows in concentration before casting the charms. Luckily, you had much time to imprint the movements and incantations in your head so it only took a little pause to cast. 

Quirking your lips in uncertainty, you slowly bring your wand down, unsure if the charms were put into place. 

‘Reggie? Can you hear me?’

‘Impressive work, little bird. Not that I doubted you.’

Gasping loudly at his voice, you reel back in your seat to gape at a pleased looking Regulus, “Woah!” 

Laughing at your shock, Regulus opts to merely respond through your newfound mind link, ‘Woah indeed. Now, it’s about time for you to head out, no?’

As you tucked Regulus’ portrait away underneath your pillow and headed down to the floo network, you couldn’t help the victorious laugh that escaped you. 

It seemed that every summer was more eventful than the last, and you were hopeful that you could spend many more summers in the future with the boy who was slowly winning over your heart. 

Reaching out into your mind link one last time, you send Regulus a fleeting farewell. 

‘Stay safe, little bird.’

And then green flames were filling your vision. 

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txoru @surelysherly @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @urgurlfave @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale

[wingedhallows]

i got my eye on you; marauders

pairing: marauders (sirius black x reader) | 3.3k words plot: albus reaches out to you to keep the marauders save, to not have them die, so you join them in their seventh year. authors note: this is by far the longest fic i ever wrote and it'll have several parts. I hope you like it :) have a good weekend, y'all <3

navigation | part one ; part two

“For some of you, this will be the last- '' The doors to the great hall opened with a loud squeak and all heads whipped to who had entered. It was uncomfortably quiet as a young woman, looking no older than twenty five, entered the hall.

Her appearance was unusual, to say the least. Students stared as they took in her appearance, the long hair, the loose jeans and the many many tattoos. Her face was adorned with make up, some jewelry graced her neck as well as her fingers and and her feet were plucked into beat up sneakers.

The students didn’t miss the pack of cigarettes which she had just shoved into the pocket of her pants or how her made-up eyes looked over the mass of teenagers. 

The way she walked was confident, relaxed. Her arms swung by her side in a comfortable manner, something the students hadn’t seen in the halls of Hogwarts ever. As she reached the podium where Dumbledore stood, he embraced her in a hug. 

“I’m late, sorry for that.” You said, Dumbledore swatted his hand and rubbed your upper arm. “No problem at all, Y/N. Life as a young Auror gets busy, does it not?” You gave him a small smile and turned around to walk up to the teachers, hand held out for them to take. As you came back to Albus, he had a hand on your shoulder. “They’re right there, just sit down with them.” He pointed his bony finger at the Gryffindor table, you couldn’t make out who he meant but followed suit.

Albus had contacted you a few weeks ago to give him a helping hand. A group of students, infamously titled the marauders were in grave danger, something about a prophecy and Voldemort. You didn’t need to know more when Albus had sounded so desperate.

You stepped off the podium and walked down the Gryffindor table, the gazes of students burning into your form. Just as you slowed down at a boy you had seen before, the older Black son, Sirius Orion Black, you stopped.

You looked back at Dumbledore and pointed at the bench. With a small nod you walked up to them. “Excuse me.” You spoke and within seconds the boys parted like Moses had the sea. You sat down and avoided their eyes when Albus started to talk again.

The teens looked at you, examining you. “As I was saying-” You weren’t listening as you looked at them. The boy on your right across the table had dark hair, not as long as the Black’s but it was neatly styled. His tie sat untidy in the center of his uniform and he looked your way a few times, too shy to actually keep eye contact. T

he one next to him looked tidier, his tie was neatly pulled together, his hand rested on a book which you couldn’t make the title out of. His face was graced with faint reddish scars and his eyes were glued to Dumbledore.

The table stayed faintly quiet as Albus stopped talking and breakfast was announced. “Relax.” You said, eyes now glued to your face. With a tap to the plate it vanished and a steaming cup of coffee emerged in its place. You fished the pack of cigarettes from your pocket and pushed one between your lips. Black, who was seated to your right, grabbed your arm, biscuit in his other hand.

“No smoking on grounds.” The tidy boy spoke, as Black retreated his hand. “Rules.” Sirius spoke, he shook his head, obviously thinking those to be absurd. You gave them a small smile before you lit the cigarette with a tip of your finger.

“The rules don’t count for me.” The dark haired boy furrowed his eyebrows and huffed before he spoke. “But-”I’m not a student.” You took a sip from your coffee and spoke again.

“I’d be a bit too old for that.” You took a drag from your cigarette, enjoying the way the smoke filled your lungs. You huffed the smoke over their heads and took another sip. “No fair.” Sirius crumbled next to you.

You looked to your right and held the cigarette out for him. With wide eyes he watched you, without a word you nodded your head at him. He hesitated but embraced the stick between his lips and took a drag. Without as much as a cough he blew out the smoke and gave you a small smile. “Thanks.” You didn’t answer before you took another drag.

“My name’s Y/N and I’m here to look out for you-”Look out for us?” You eyed him through your lashes with a glare. “James.” The boy next to him nudged his shoulder and he retreated with a quick sorry.

“You goin’ to interrupt me again, James?” James shook his head “No ma’am.” Your lips twisted into a grin “Good.”

You propped your arms onto the table and started to talk again. “I can’t tell you why, orders from way up.” You paused as you saw them frown.

“I wanna make one thing clear, I’m not here to keep you in check.” You paused “I’m simply here to not have you die, I couldn’t care less about what you do in school.” The boy to your left shuffled to look at you. “Look at me like a friend, you can come to me for help and whatever else you want, I kinda have a free pass here.” You pointed at the pack of cigarettes.

“So, you’re just here to keep us safe?” The boy next to James spoke and you nodded. “Exactly.” James wasn’t convinced, eyebrows still knitted together. “But that doesn’t make sense, we’re good at taking care of ourselves. Sirius has a mean right hook and I’m the best quidditch player in our school. We can take-”No you can’t.” You broke him off.

“Not during these times.” He eyed you some more before he returned to his breakfast.

Just as James opened his mouth again you caught Albus in the corner of your eyes. He had his hand raised, asking you to meet him up in his office. You understood and spoke after you had shoved the cigarettes back into your pocket.

“Excuse me.” You said, Sirius wanted to keep a hold on you, to not let you go but within a second the space next to him was empty. You had apparated away, on school grounds. Maybe you were right after all, you did have a free pass.

Albus only wanted to remind you of your mission, keep them safe. He handed you their schedule and sent you on your merry way. You apparated into Minerva's classroom, startling two girls in the process. The lesson hadn’t started yet and the room was buzzing with voices.

James and Sirius were seated together, Remus sat with Peter. Albus had shown you pictures, pointed them out to you. There was a bench behind the four which was vacant, so you decided to place yourself there.

You had no business here, you knew. You had finished your school years at Mahoutokoro in Japan about three years ago, you were no longer a student and you didn’t desire to be one ever again but this mission, this task, which Albus put in your hands felt too important to act upon your dislikement of school.

“Oh, Y/N.” Remus said with a small smile on his face as he noticed you.

You gave him a small wave of your fingers and leaned back in your chair, Sirius and James now sat facing you. “You’ll join the lessons too?” You nodded and lit yourself a cigarette, they didn’t question it this time.

“Albus told me to feel free to join in if I wanted to.” Sirius brought a hand through his brown locks and gave you a flirty smile. “Should’ve sat behind you then, Snivellus’ an eyesore.” You gave him a grin and eyed the fellow student. He was hunched over his desk, gaze locked on his workbook.

“So, you’ll join-”You’re in my seat.” A blonde boy interrupted James, he stood right in front of you, his blonde hair framed his face like a helmet.

“I don’t see a name.” You smiled, taking a drag from your cigarette. “This seat is mine.” He said again, nose held high. You raised from your chair and placed yourself in front of the nuisance of a boy. His jaw was clenched and his eyebrows furrowed in anger.

“Well now it’s mine.” You almost whispered, the classroom had gotten awfully quiet, eager to catch a glimpse of your quarrel.

“I’ll say it one more time, this seat is mine, you mud-”I wouldn’t if I were you. I’m the furthest thing from a mudblood, not that I like the sound of that insult.” Your face contorted into a frown before you took another drag of your cigarette and blew the smoke right in his face. The blonde coughed violently as you looked down on him.

“Get away from me.” You said before you sat down and crossed your legs over each other. The boy took a step forward, fists clenched and face flushed.

Sirius and James were fast to stand up, square their shoulders and stare him down. You felt like there were two guard dogs standing right behind you.

“This isn’t finished.” He spat before he turned around and found himself and his buddy a seat. His eyes found yours again before you raised your hand to flip him off.

Sirius burst into laughter as he reached over the desk and patted you on the shoulder. “You’re growing on me, love.”

“Malfoy’s an arse, don’t fret it.” James laughed before you waved him off. “I think I can handle him just fine, James.”

Just as Minerva stepped into the room you had any evidence of a cigarette vanishing. McGonagall wrinkled her nose in displeasure as she placed her bag down.

“Who smoked in my classroom?” The boys didn’t move, you just raised your eyebrows, you’d get him for good. “No one?” You wiped the smirk off your face as you raised your hand.

“Minerva, can I call you that?” The woman faced you, her face didn’t change as she simply nodded.

“I’m not normally one to tell, but I believe that school rules are of utmost importance for students, it was like that for me when I visited Mahoutokoro.” You paused to flash her a small smile, a smile that said, I’m on your side, I’m here to support, not side with students.

“I believe I saw Mr. Malfoy over there enjoying a cigarette just a few moments ago. I’m not one to disdain smoking, as I enjoy it myself but as we all know, I’m no longer a student, but Mr. Malfoy is one and I believe that this should be addressed.”

You were amazed by yourself, you hadn’t been a two faced bitch since school. The boys turned around, faces painted with disbelief. Sirius had to hide the grin on his face. Peter stared at you in horror, how could you be so absolutely stellar at lying, without a stutter or a twitch of guiltiness. 

“Very well, Y/N. Do you have proof to reinforce those accusations?” She stepped a row closer to you, hands clasped together. Malfoy shot to his feet, face bright red with anger as he tried to speak.

“Professor, you couldn’t possibly believe-”I believe a quick whiff should be enough, cigarettes leave a rather strong smell on people who smoke.” 

Minerva gave you a nod and proceeded to where the blonde boy sat, his eyes widened in horror. You had blown the smoke at him, it would still linger. The teacher reached her head forward and smelled the boy's uniform, with a gasp she retreated.

“Mr. Malfoy, I’m truly disappointed, smoking on school grounds is bad enough but in my classroom of all places. 10 points from Slytherin and detention.” You sat down and gave the boys a smirk, they turned around with an amused expression on their faces.

“Thank you, Y/N. It’s nice to see someone acting their age.” You didn’t respond and just gave her a smile.

-

“I can’t believe you got Malfoy detention.” James laughed. “Not to mention the house points off Slytherin!” Sirius laughed before he threw an arm over your shoulder. You just shook your head and took the cigarette he had snatched from you back. His fingers played with your hair as you occupied your free hand with your lighter.

“So, you’re just going to spend your free period with me here?” You tried and Peter hummed, his arms snaked around his school bag. You’d told them that you’d like to go for a smoke, to get some peace but that apparently doesn’t exist without those four.

“So, how old are you actually?” James spoke, your eyes found his. Remus jabbed him in the side and you chuckled, taking another drag of the cigarette before Sirius grabbed your arm to take a drag himself.

“Not cool, man.” Sirius commented. You were so close, so intimate. It didn’t feel weird though, it didn’t bother you. Being with him felt so easy, so comfortable. Was that a bad thing? You felt as if you were letting your guard down, what if you were too distracted to keep them safe? All those thoughts disappeared when Sirius’ hand rested on your shoulder.

“24.” You simply answered. Remus finally sat down in front of you, his shoulders seemed less tense. “You went to school in Japan, why that?” You shifted your legs and put the cigarette out letting it once again disappear in the palm of your hand.

“I was originally going to spend my school years here at Hogwarts but when my parents saw my potential they decided to send me to a school which took more pride in their students power and skill than anything else.” You paused and lit yourself another cigarette.

“My parents insisted on my transfer to Mahoutokoro when I was barely twelve years old, I haven’t seen them since I was transferred.” Sirius retreated his arm to fully face you.

“What do you mean?” James spoke, eyebrows furrowed. “I never forgave them for ripping me away from everything I knew, my friends, my family, my mother tongue. Everything.” 

“So you never spoke to them again?” Peter leaned forward, intrigued by the conversation. You nodded your head, eyes on the ground you sat on. “Not one word.”

“What’s Maktokoro-”Mahoutokoro.” You interrupted Sirius, who just swatted your attempt of correcting him away. “Yes, that.”

You caught the boy looking at your hand and without a word you raised the cigarette to his mouth, his warm hand grasped yours gently and he clasped the stick in between his lips. The way he looked, the way he felt, did something to you. Heat spreads from your chest over your shoulder.

“I-It’s very disciplined, hence why I look how I look.” You paused to catch your breath and to rip your gaze from the delicious looking man next to you.

“No tattoos, no dying your hair, no casual clothes, no nothing. The only nice thing is the scenery.” Sirius held a drink for you to take and with a thankful smile you took it.

“Mahoutokoro is big in Qidditch, it wasn’t my cup of tea but the matches were a sight to see.” James leaned back with a smirk on his face.

“Well, Quidditch’s our expertise.” You raised your eyebrows at him. “I’m a seeker myself, Sirius’ a beater.” You smiled at him and nodded your head. “I guess I have to watch you play, then?” 

Sirius let out a chuckle and threw his arm over your shoulder once again. “Of course, love. I need something worth winning for.” You had to laugh yourself before you intertwined your fingers with his before he placed the cigarette in front of your mouth again. You took a drag and blew the smoke past him.

“You don’t play?” You addressed the other two boys.

“No, Peter and I are not so skilled regarding Quidditch.” Remus laughed, his book wandering to his other hand.

“Moony’s the one with the best grades though, Quidditch only gets you so far.” James threw in and Remus gave him a small smile. “Oh, so you’re the smartest?” Remus had to chuckle and shook his head.

“He’s only being modest.” Sirius whispered in your ear and you nodded before Sirius dropped the done cigarette into your palm and it vanished.

Seated all the way in the back you were surprised to see one of your former teachers teach Defense Against Dark Arts here at Hogwarts. Hayato Fujimoto was one of your favorite teachers when you went to school, to see him here now fills you with comfort. 

He broke into a bright smile as he welcomed the students. “We have a guest here, as it seems.” He paused to lean on his desk. You waved at him before he waved you to the front of the class.

“Miss Y/N here was one of my most talented students, with excellent skills in wandless magic and dueling. I’m happy to have you here, so far from home. I hope you’re willing to show your skills to my students sometime.” You gave him a smile and tilted your head towards him.

“Of course, Professor.” He waved you off “Please, you’re no longer one of my students, call me Hayato.” You couldn’t do that, you knew and he knew as well.

“Alright students, get in line, find yourself a partner.” Fujimoto waved his hands to rush them along, his white hair jumped with the effort. You stayed behind, to stay out of their way.

These lessons, learning how to defend themselves, were important. Even if the professor was eager to show you off, you wanted them to train, to be able to wield those defensive spells, especially Sirius, James, Remus and Peter.

You made your way to them, watching them. James trained with Peter, Sirius with Remus. Spell after spell jumped between them, but you noticed right away, they were going easy on each other. They didn’t take it seriously.

Without a word you stepped in front of Remus, who retreated with wide eyes. “What?” He mumbled as Sirius lowered his wand with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Raise that wand, Black.” You paused before he stepped forward, following suit and raised his wand again.

“Hit me with the best you got.” He hesitated but nodded, wielding his wand.

“Stupefy!” He yelled and with a flick of your hand it dispersed, you looked bored. “Don’t go easy on me now, Sirius.” He took a breath and raised his wand again.

“Rictusempra!” He tried again, but you waved it off once again. With a nameless spell you sent him off his feet, he flew a feet meters and landed on his ass.

You frowned and walked over to him. Your hand reached to his head and your other one held his shoulder. His hair was fluffy, softer than you expected it to be. “You okay?” He huffed and sent you a pained grin, trying to play off the aching in his buttocks. 

“Fine.” He mumbled before he got to his feet again. You brushed his shirt off and rubbed his upper arm. He nodded and took his wand from your hand.

“I didn’t want to knock you off your feet, sorry about that.” You said before he grabbed your arm, warm hand grasping your flesh.

“That’s twice now, you owe me.” He said with a smirk on his face.

For once, you were speechless. You expected him to be mad, to dislike you but he flirted. Your cheeks felt hot and your heartbeat sped up. This wasn’t good, not good at all.

[black-amortentia]

Under the Mistletoe with Sirius

Sirius Black x Auror!Reader (HP era) | Warnings: Mainly just fluff, hints at a past relationship between Sirius and reader, barely proofread

Summary: Sirius Black was spending Christmas on the run, and a visit from an auror is not the gift he wanted. Luckily, it's not just any auror. Will a close call reunite him with an old friend?

--

“Well, well, well... What do we have here?”

You stood in the alley, hands on your hips, staring down at your quarry. His grey eyes turned to you, wide with fear as you made yourself known. The shining auror bagde on your chest caught his eye.

“Whatever am I going to do with you?” You continued, drawing his eyes to your face.

Sirius Black, the most wanted man in the Wizarding world, stood slowly, gaze fixed on yours.

“Auror L/N,” He said quietly.

You closed the small distance between you. Holding out your hand, you lifted an eyebrow. “Come on, then.”

Sirius sighed, his hand landing in yours.

You pulled him into a hug, his arms coming around your waist to embrace you in return.

“Y/N... It’s good to see you.”

“What are you doing here? You’re lucky it was me that ran into you and not someone else.”

“One of the houses in this village used to be part of the Order. Thought I’d see if it was still free.”

“Sold last month, actually. New owners moving in soon.”

“Really lucky I ran into you, then,” Sirius grinned.

“Oh, please, Sirius, luck had nothing to do with it,” you told him with a shake of your head. “I volunteered for this shift.”

Sirius’s brow furrowed in confusion. “You did? Why?”

“I thought you might feel a little nostalgic. Or don’t you remember that Christmas the two of us spent holed up in that house you mentioned?”

His lips curved into a playful smile. “I could never forget that Christmas, Y/N.”

Sirius laid a hand on your shoulder. “I often wonder what might have happened if one Christmas wasn’t all we had.”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “So have I. Too bad the war got in the way.”

There was a moment of quiet between you, shared looks of longing, what-ifs heavy in the air. Finally, you cleared your throat. “We should get you out of here before you’re seen. This way.”

“We’re just going to walk?”

“I’ve got somewhere you can lie low for the night,” you told him. “Just around the corner. The whole village should be in church.”

As you walked down the lamp-lit street, Sirius grabbed your hand and pulled you toward a lamppost decorated with mistletoe.

“Really?” you asked with a laugh.

“You know mistletoe means you have to kiss me, right?” he teased, leaning in close. “It’s bad luck not to.”

“Is that so?” you murmured, your heart skipping a beat at his nearness.

“Absolutely,” he whispered, his eyes dancing with mischief. His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin. “Just a quick kiss...”

You tilted your face up, lips parted, memories dancing in your mind.

But just before your lips could meet, a quiet chatter of voice floated down the street and you jumped out of Sirius’s arms.

“I hear voices. Get down!”

Sirius ducked behind a nearby garden wall, slipping into his dog form in a fluid motion. You leaned against the lamppost, looking nonchalant but alert, like any good auror on patrol.

An elderly couple strolled past, headed for the church. You nodded politely, and they smiled in return. It seemed to take several agonizing minutes for them to get out of earshot, but that was probably just your impatience.

When the coast is clear, you turn to look for Sirius. “That was clo- ah!”

As you looked for the shaggy black dog, the ice on the lamppost and the ice under your feet conspired to send you sprawling onto your back, knocking the wind out of you.

You blinked up at the light above you, the sprig of mistletoe seeming to laugh at your plight. You felt the weight of two paws on your chest before Sirius’s canine head appeared in your vision. He cocked his head at you, then leaned in and licked your cheek.

“Get off me, you mangy mongrel.”

Sirius changed back into a human, still pinning you down. “Mangy? I’m insulted!”

You laughed at the look on his face. “What are you doing, anyway?”

Sirius glanced up. “The mistletoe, remember? Going to risk that bad luck?”

“Well, we need all the luck we can get, don’t we?”

Sirius’ eyes glinted playfully as he leaned down, his cold nose brushing against yours. His lips captured yours in a gentle kiss that soon deepened, his body pressing against you. Your fingers tangled in his shaggy hair as the kiss left you breathless. When you finally broke apart, his eyes were dark with desire.

You moaned softly, and Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Someone sounds eager.”

“No, there’s a rock in my back,” you groaned.

Sirius chuckled as he got to his feet, holding out a hand to help you up. “One close call is probably enough for tonight. I should get going.”

When you were back on your feet, you didn’t let go of his hand. “Don’t spend Christmas alone. Come on, it’s just a few doors down.”

He leaned around you to count the houses. “But that’s… I thought you said someone bought it.”

With a jingle, you pulled a set of keys from your pocket. “Oh, didn’t I tell you about the new owner? It’s got protections and charms that would even impress Dumbledore. Come on. One night.”

Sirius’s face breaks out into a grin as you pull him down the lane, watching for threats. “Maybe this time, it can be more than just one Christmas.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Maybe it can.”