#until one day james remembers everything and he can go away from reg without freaking out

[calamitoustide]

a fic set in a universe parallel to canon up to the point of james going on an auror mission and getting hit with a spell that gives him amnesia, he thinks he’s sixteen again and he’s so out of it the only person he can call for is regulus. no matter what anyone else does they can not settle him down… they need reg

[imaginejamesandsirius]

James comes back to life and realizes that Sirius, while being strong and tough as always, is also touch-starved but afraid of being close to people because touch always meant pain and now Sirius is back in Grimmauld Place because of Dumbledore and neither he nor James can bear it so James makes sure to take care of Sirius and get him used to being loved again, while also being extremely protective of his husband (sorry, I have a thing for protective James). Thank you!

Sirius wasn't used to people touching him anymore. When he was a kid, Orion and Walburga didn't 'believe' in it. Him and Regulus used to hug sometimes, and when they were really small, sometimes Reg would crawl into his bed after a nightmare. Becoming friends with James had completely turned that around in Hogwarts, and the marauders had been comfortable with each other, nudging and hugging whenever they bloody well felt like it. They'd gotten married, and they could hardly be in the same room with out an arm around each other or a hand on the other's shoulder. 

But then James and Lily and Regulus were all dead, Peter had betrayed them, and Remus was in the wind, either with Fenrir's pack or running away from them. And Sirius... well, he'd been in Azkaban for twelve years. Nobody touched him. He barely ever saw another human face, just a few times a year when Fudge would check in on the high security prisoners. He always felt most human when Fudge visited, but that was mostly because it brought Sirius a smidgen of joy to freak him out. Fudge would always leave after a few minutes, and all Sirius had was the company of Dementors, who made him feel like he'd never touched another living being in his entire life. 

He wasn't going to let his own sodding problems interfere with Harry though, so he made a point to hug him every time he saw him. Merlin knows the kid needs it. 

And now, somehow, James was back. There had been some spell that hit the Veil and the next thing everyone knew, James Potter was falling out of it, alive and looking exactly the way he had before he'd gotten killed. It had been a few days, and Sirius still didn't know what to think about it. James had spent most of that time getting shuffled from St. Mungo's to the Ministry and back, and since Sirius was still a fugitive, he couldn't go with him. Not that he wanted to. Remus and Harry and all other sorts of people were keeping him company as he got used to being alive again, and James was-- if not happy-- okay with it. Remus gave him updates, which mostly consisted of fire messages that James thought he was fine and wanted to go home and everyone else had to force him to stay put for the tests and questionnaires and whatever the hell else they were doing. Sirius wondered if James had asked about him. It used to be that you couldn't tear Sirius away from his side, and while he still felt that way (or close to it, at least), he wasn't the same person James had fallen in love with. 

So that's why Sirius was here. Laying on the floor of the Grimmauld Place dining room, staring at the ceiling. That was another thing that he hadn't gotten used to yet: soft beds. He couldn't do it even though he'd been staying in this fucking place for nearly a year. Laying on tile was about as good as it got. 

He heard Kreacher's shuffling steps, and then the house elf started to mutter, "Filthy blood traitor son of Mistress getting the floor dirty. Poor Kreacher keeps it clean and he does not-" 

"Sod off, Kreacher," Sirius said, and Kreacher turned around and started ambling away, talking about how distressed Walburga would be if she could see the house like this. Sirius rolled his eyes, then went back to feeling nothing but cold from the floor creeping up into his bones. It didn't feel good, but it felt familiar. 

He stayed there for a while, and he would've stayed there longer if he didn't hear the front door open and people start pouring in. He sighed, pushing himself up and moving to a chair. He had to pretend to be normal, or Molly would keep on with her campaign that Sirius wasn't suited to raising a child. Not that he'd ever thought he could do it in the first place. It had first been Lily's idea, then James's; Sirius was just along for the ride. 

James had a sixth sense for his location, he was sure of it. It was the only explanation he could think of for why James entered Grimmauld Place and immediately headed for the dining room, throwing open the door with an excited shout of, "Sirius!" A few people were trailing him-- Harry, Remus, Dora, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny-- but it was obvious that they were there for James, not Sirius. Not that Sirius minded, he wasn't exactly good company. James either didn't notice or didn't care, because he walked right up to Sirius and took the chair next to him, scooting closer and throwing an arm around his shoulders as casually as he ever had. "I'm alive! I know you already knew that, but it took these fuckers three days to make it official. Don't you think they should have been able to put it together before then? It's kinda obvious." Fred, George, and Ginny all went to the kitchen, and Dora followed them after glancing at Remus. 

"I think they were making sure you were going to stay that way," Remus said, leaning against the wall. 

James waved a hand dismissively. "Whatever. But in even better news, your case is going through!" 

A pause. 

"I thought you'd be more excited about that." 

Sirius shrugged. 

"You'll be able to move," Harry said. "I know you hate it here." 

"Eh." Of course he hated it here. He kind of hated it everywhere. 

"Which brings up a very good question. Why are you staying here?" James asked. 

"Dumbledore thought it was a good idea." 

"I'm sure he did," James said flatly. "That doesn't explain why you didn't bugger off to one of your houses." 

"You have other houses?" Harry asked. 

Sirius shook his head. "They're Potter properties." 

"Right, which means they're yours. Honestly Si, it's like you're not paying attention. This place is depressing. I think we should pack up and go to the one with the sheep farm next door. Or at least, it used to have a sheep farm next door. I suppose they could've moved, but Mrs. Smith seemed very fond of those things, it's hard to imagine she left. Anyways, there's a pond, the woods, and plenty of green. Anything would be an upgrade from this dismal place-- honestly, who thought this decoration was a good idea?-- but it's by far the prettiest." 

Sirius shrugged James's arm off of him, not looking at him so he wouldn't have to see the confused expression that doubtlessly crossed his face. "Yeah, well you and Harry can go live there and visit when you get the time." 

"Why wouldn't you come with us?" James asked, innocently confused. 

"I'm a fugitive, remember?" 

"Yeah, but that's not going to last." 

"You could come with us anyways," Harry said hopefully. "It's not as if Ministry officials are going to be dropping by, right?" 

"See? The prongslet makes a good point. You, me, Harry, maybe Remus if he stops being such a tosser about everything," James said, shooting a pointed look in Remus's direction. "It'll be great." 

"Yeah erm," Sirius swallowed, getting to his feet. "No thanks. You'll be fine on your own." He ruffled Harry's hair as he passed, not making eye contact with anyone as he went up to Buckbeak's room. 

James watched Sirius leave, frowning and beyond confused. He shot Harry a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, he gets in moods sometimes. We can look at some of the houses tomorrow, if you like?" 

"Er, sure. Are you sure he's okay?" Harry asked worriedly. 

"Yeah, he's fine." James gave him another smile, but he grabbed Remus's arm when he left the room, not letting go until they were alone in the sitting room. "Do you know what's wrong with him?" he asked quietly. 

"He was in Azkaban for over a decade," Remus replied, keeping his voice low as well. "He thought you were dead that entire time, and he's in hiding. He's never dealt well with being cooped up, and you know full well that you're the one thing he could never stand to lose. He's not... honestly James, there's so much that's wrong with him right now, I can't list it all." 

James blew out a breath, running a hand through his hair and making it stick up even more. "Right, I know, it's just. During the war and Harry being born and everything, he used to pretend that everything was fine. I guess I was expecting for him to be more like that." 

"Ten years without you," Remus reminded him. "He's not okay. Go bloody talk to him before he starts brooding for the next week." 

Remus expected for James to immediately turn and make his way up the stairs, but James stood there, chewing on his lip. "Are we even still married? It's. Y'know. Twelve years is a long time, he may not- I mean- what if he doesn't love me anymore?" 

"I can't answer that for him." 

"Right." James was worried about more, like how the hell he was supposed to raise Harry when he was only five years older than him now. He didn't know how the hell a relationship between him and Sirius would work even if Sirius did still want it to happen, because James was fifteen years younger than him. He didn't know if he was still considered Lord Potter or not. He didn't know how he'd manage to deal with any of this shite if Sirius wanted to go back to just being friends. How was James supposed to act around him if that happened? He couldn't imagine ever not being in love with him. 

He stood there for another minute, then shook his head defeatedly. When had Sirius ever listened to him? But he wasn't going to let that stop him from trying, so he trudged up the stairs, passing house elf heads that he wanted to rip down. Or maybe he just wanted to burn the whole arse place down, which was as much as it deserved. 

Sirius's door was open, and he was nowhere to be found inside. Harry had mentioned that Sirius spent most of his time with Buckbeak, so James went to the hippogriff's room next. Sure enough, Sirius was there, stroking his feathers. James wasn't great with hippogriffs, so he kept his gaze averted and stayed in the doorway. "Hey. Can I talk to you for a minute?" 

"Sure." Sirius gave Buckbeak a pat on the back then left, closing the door behind him. "What's up?" 

"Erm, in private? I don't want anyone walking up." 

Sirius shrugged, like he really couldn't care. 

James reminded himself that Sirius had defenses, and he couldn't expect to get past them just because he felt like he should be allowed through. James and Remus were sharing a room, and it was closer than the one Sirius was staying in, so James led him there. He cast a silencing spell but didn't bother to lock it since being interrupted wasn't the biggest issue, it was them being overheard. James wasn't about to pour his heart out where one of the kids could eavesdrop. "If I ask you one question, will you answer completely honestly?" 

Sirius looked at him for a long moment. It used to be that Sirius would say 'yes of course' as soon as James finished asking. "One," he agreed. 

James swallowed down the hurt that came from the carefully guarded answer. "How do you feel about me?" 

Sirius's eyes sharpened. "I can't believe you even have to ask." 

"I can't believe it either, but you don't want to live with me and Harry. You know him better than me, I could use some back up. Besides, I'm- what, five years older than him right now? Six? I'm more like an older brother than a father. And you- okay, I don't know the hell you've been through. I don't understand it and I know I never will, but I love you and you're acting like you don't care. Are we still married? Do you want to pretend that we never were? And why the fuck are you staying here? Because Dumbledore said so? You don't belong here. We should get everyone out and tear it down brick by brick. There are plenty of other places to have a safehouse, and none of them are buildings that you were abused in. When I got you out the first time, I told you that you'd never have to come back, and I meant it." 

"Are you done?" 

"Hardly, but it looks like you have something to say." 

"I love you, but I don't think we fit. That's how I feel about you. I would die for you, but I'm not going to drag you down with me." 

"Drag me down? Is that really what you think you'd be doing? No offense Sirius, but I just came back from the dead and I'm not going to let something like this ruin us. You don't want to be with me? Say so, and I'll leave you alone. But if you think you're sparing me or some shite, I'm going to smother you with love until you remember what it feels like." 

Sirius sighed. "James, it's not that simple-" he broke off with a surprised squeak as James wrapped him up in a tight hug. "Er, what are you doing?" 

"Smothering you with love, step one," James grit out. "Good luck getting rid of me now, you tosser." 

*

After that, James stuck to Sirius's side like glue. Half the time he let him have his own space, but the other half of the time, he was aggressively cuddling him. 

"Sirius, I've heard you're thinking about moving," Dumbledore said, and James snorted. 'Thinking about moving' his arse, they were literally in the middle of packing up things from Sirius's old bedroom. "I know you are displeased with your isolation, but the protections here-" 

"Are absolute shite compared to the ones where we're going. You don't have to have Sirius watching the Order's headquarters, and he's not going to get caught staying anywhere else. So long as he's not walking down the street as is, he'll be fine." 

"I know that the two of you must have missed each other terribly-" 

"Let me stop you right there. I appreciate everything you've done in the fight against Voldemort, and I do value the help you've given everyone in the past. But things are different now." They weren't a whole bunch of clueless kids trying desperately to keep their freedom. James wasn't much smarter now, if he was honest, but Sirius needed for him to take a firmer stand. "I'm not going to change my mind on this, and all you're going to accomplish if you keep pushing it, is making me mad. We'll stay in touch, okay?" It was obvious that James couldn't care less what Dumbledore's response to that was going to be, James was going to do what he wanted no matter what the old man said. 

*

James and Sirius were sharing a bed. In theory. James woke up early the first morning to find that Sirius had already gone downstairs. That happened for the next couple of days. Sirius was gone, James went to find him, and Sirius was in the kitchen frying up some eggs while reading a book. He wasn't sure if Sirius was actually reading the book or if he wanted an excuse not to talk. 

James woke up in the middle of the night-- one a.m. according to the clock-- to an empty bed. He sighed, throwing off the blankets. He'd thought this entire time that Sirius was just waking early, but maybe it's that he wasn't staying there at all, instead waiting until James fell asleep to go somewhere else. He started shuffling towards the door, rubbing at his eyes when he tripped over something. A very large, human shaped something. "Sirius?" 

He'd woken up when James ran into him. "Yeah," he rasped. 

James sat down on the floor next to him. It was too bloody early to be awake, let alone having a conversation. "What're you doing?" 

"I was sleeping." 

"On the ground?" 

Sirius didn't answer. 

James leaned forward and rested his forehead on Sirius's shoulder. "Will you please just come to bed?" 

Sirius sighed, and the motion moved James's head along with him. 

"Please?" 

"Fine." It was a far cry from the enthusiasm James wanted, but they were working with baby steps. Sirius achingly pushed himself up, rolled over to the bed, crawled up, then said, "Happy?" 

James got back in, snuggling against him. "Getting there. Is the bed uncomfortable? We can get a new one." 

He said nothing, and James took that to mean this was another one of those ways that Sirius was punishing himself. Their bed was pretty firm as it was, so he doubted they'd have to actually get a new one. 

*

James stood his ground, unflinching in the face of ten aurors on his doorstep. "Can I see the warrant?" he asked, holding out a hand expectantly. They wouldn't be able to get past unless he let them, and they wouldn't get permission until he saw the warrant was in order. Harry was squirming nervously behind him, probably wondering if he should give Sirius a heads-up so he could get out. Fortunately, it wasn't going to come to that. James took one glance at it, handed it back, and said, "Nope." 

"No?" 

"It's a search warrant for Sirius Black, and there isn't one of those living." 

The auror in charge of the group gave an aggravated sigh. "Mister Potter, do you understand that denying us entrance after a properly served warrant is-" 

"Is a whole bunch of nothing because your warrant doesn't apply. Who else are you going to try to find? Orion Black? Gideon Prewett? Merlin himself?" 

The auror got a very confused look and said, "Sir?" 

"Sirius Black stopped existing on the twenty-eighth of March in nineteen-seventy-seven; you can take it up with your boss," James said, then shut the door. 

Harry frowned up at him when he turned around. "Really?" 

"Yes?" 

"I'm confused. Why isn't he Sirius Black?" 

"Oh, well me and Sirius got married the day after my seventeenth birthday, and he changed his last name to Potter." James ruffled Harry's hair as he passed. 

"...oh. I knew you were together," although that had been a pretty startlingly realisation when he found out a couple months ago, "I just didn't know you were married together."

"Yep." 

"What are we going to do when they come back with a warrant with the right name?" 

"Well this is where it gets risky. Hopefully they'll realise that they need to reevaluate the case, and from there they'll either realise that he never had a trial or that he was framed. Either way will work just fine for me, but the risk is in if they actually bother to look. But I wouldn't worry about it, we should hear before one of them happens and be able to plan for it." 

"Not complaining, but I think you're setting a bad example," Harry said, amused. 

"What? How am I setting a bad example? I'm teaching you how to follow the letter of the law and to take care of the ones you love." 

"Mostly you're teaching me how to break the law." 

James gaped at him. "I most certainly am not! Sirius," he said when he came into the room, "I'm not setting a bad example, am I?" 

Sirius looked at James, then Harry, then back. "Er, no?" 

"You're a filthy traitor," James accused with fake severity, walking over to give him a hug. 

"He's teaching me how to break the law," Harry informed Sirius, jumping into the hug happily. 

"Oh James, how could you. Woe is me. A criminal son following in his criminal father's footsteps. I will never survive from this shock to my composure." In a more serious voice, he said, "Haz, why don't you go finish writing that letter to Ron?" 

"Alright," he said, holding on for another few seconds. 

In a quiet tone, just to make sure that Harry didn't overhear, Sirius said, "You shouldn't lie to him." 

"It was just some teasing." 

"Not that. The part where you keep convincing him that I'm going to get my name cleared." 

"You are." 

"Great, you're delusional," Sirius muttered. 

James hugged him again, tighter this time. 

"What are you doing?" 

"You're making me sad, so you're getting a hug until I feel better. Normally I would do it until you feel better, but you're awfully resilient to being happy." 

"I'm not resilient to being happy," Sirius mumbled. 

"The fact that you honestly think that makes it so much worse." James tilted his head to the side and kissed Sirius's cheek. Sirius was good with the occasional, quick kiss and hugs now. He had stopped trying to run out of bed before James woke up, so that was an improvement. Everything else physical was still miles away, but James didn't mind. Mostly what he minded was that Sirius wasn't happy. He'd been like this after a summer with his family, and each time he came back for a new year at Hogwarts was like working from scratch. This was the same as that, only times one hundred since Sirius hadn't had any breaks in between and he'd been in Azkaban. "I love you." 

Sirius swallowed thickly, enough that James could heart it happen. "I erm. I do too. For you. Y'know?" 

"Yeah sweetheart, I know." James kissed his cheek again, then let go, beaming at him with a brightness he didn't necessarily feel. "Let's try making cookies again, I think we almost got it last time." 

*

Sirius grinned at James, scooping him up in a hug that made James's feet lift off the floor. James laughed and held on, knowing from experience that if he didn't, he'd get flung around. "Is it just me, or does the air smell sweeter now that I am officially, completely free?" 

"Hmm." James sniffed at the air. "I think the air's sweeter." 

Sirius kissed him, set him on the ground gently, then kissed him again. "Thanks for sticking with me." 

"Any time," James said, completely meaning it. 

"And thanks for forcing me to have some human contact so I'd feel better." 

James's smile widened. "Any time." 

"I can't believe you never gave up on me," Sirius muttered, resting their foreheads together. 

"I can't believe you thought I ever could." 

"You literally came back from the dead to take care of me. You have to admit, that's a whole new level of protective." 

"You're worth it." 

[magicalwardrobe-mw]

There Are Stars In Your Eyes: Newcomer

Summary:  Walburga Black hadn't expected yet another pregnancy so late in life. Sirius and Regulus loved their sister to death anyway.

Rating: T (because I’m a bit paranoid).

You can also find it on AO3 or FF.

I hope you like it!

Newcomer.

It is a known fact that wizards live a lot longer than ordinary muggles. They age slower than them and it can be over eighty years before one starts looking really old.

But still, a pregnancy at almost forty-seven was a bit too much for Walburga Black.

Sure, it was a bit of a boost for her ego. She was still fertile, still young in the eyes of society.

And, since the rumours had spread all through the higher circles of the pureblood society before she even stepped one foot out of San Mungo’s with the news, she couldn’t get rid of the baby. It would cause a lot of talk. More than it was already happening.

So the baby was happening.

Walburga wasn’t the first woman to have a baby at such an “advanced” age (she had glared at the healer when he had dared to utter that dreadful word). Even there had been some cases with muggle women. And being a witch there should be a lot less risk during her pregnancy than the ones of those women.

But that didn’t mean she was happy about it. She had already had more than enough with her two other pregnancies (when she was on her thirties) to enjoy a repeat.

They told the boys once Sirius Orion, her eldest, got back from Hogwarts. Orion had calmly sprouted the news at dinner and Sirius Orion had almost chocked on his potato.

He had been understandingly repulsed by the thought. After all, at eleven, he already knew where babies came from and was very repulsed to learn that his parents were still doing it.

Regulus Arcturus had been happy for the first few seconds until confusion kicked in. He had turned ten only some weeks ago and had yet to be corrupted by the educative talks around the halls of Hogwarts.

(His brother was quick to explain him the concept that night in his room. Orion had been very amused at his youngest son’s expression of utter disgust at breakfast next morning).

 Orion envied his sons, as they spent the worst months of their mother’s pregnancy hiding away in the big castle in the hills of Scotland.

Meanwhile he was suffering the pregnancy as if he was the one with the baby inside.

He was sure Walburga hadn’t been so unbearable on her earliest pregnancies. If he had known this would happen he would have stayed far away from her in bed.

On a late January night at last his new offspring was born. Walburga had refused to go to the hospital like ‘all those common women’ and so she had an army of midwives fluttering around in her room the moment the first contraction hit.

One of the youngest midwives, barely out of the program herself, carried the baby to her father’s arms.

“We almost lost them both,” she said. “But I managed to convince the others to use a muggle method that saved them,” her expression was sheepish. “I know how your wife is about these things but could you maybe keep it to yourself? I’m just telling you because I know Healer Burke will want to tell you later and I don’t want you to freak out.”

And then she deposited the baby (“it’s a girl, sir”) in his arms and Orion couldn’t be mad at her. The sigh of his daughter cute button nose melted his heart.

“Don’t worry,” he looked up at the young woman. “I won’t breathe a word.”

The girl grinned with relief. “Great! Now I have to help stitch up your wife before she wakes up!”

His eyebrows rose at the word ‘stitch’ and the woman merely shrugged with a soft blush on her cheeks. “It looks like I owe you a debt for saving both my wife’s and my daughter’s life,” he said. “What’s your name?”

“Oh! I’m Dahlia Blishwick,” her eyes were wide. “But you don’t owe me anything. I was just doing my job, sir.”

Orion nodded once but he mentally took note of the name: Dahlia Blishwick. He would remember that.

 “It’s almost weird for you to get a letter from your family that is not a howler,” noted James Potter eyeing the piece of paper with curiosity.

“What does it say?” wondered Peter Pettigrew.

Remus Lupin shushed them both. “Maybe if you let him read it he’ll tell us.”

The letter wasn’t that long, only a few sentences, and Sirius was quick to read them. Slowly his lips curled into a small smile that had his friends looking worried.

“He must have gone crazy,” Peter muttered. After all they all knew Sirius’ relationships with his family were strained at best and didn’t understand how a letter would make him smile.

“Maybe his mother is dead?” James suggested gaining an elbow to the ribs courtesy of Remus.

After a few more seconds of silence, James prompted the other boy with a kick to the shin. Sirius glared at him.

“So?” Peter asked. “What does it say?”

Sirius grinned again. “I have a little sister,” he said. “Which is great because now I have won a bet with Reg,” at Remus deadpan expression he quickly added: “And I’m happy to have a sister, you know? Because sisters are nice and stuff.”

Remus sniggered. “«Because sisters and nice and stuff»” he repeated. “I am so going to write that on your grave.”

“Now you’re already killing me off?”

James grinned. “Well… there are some days…”

Sirius threw a spoonful of cereal soggy with milk at James’ glasses.

 The first time Regulus saw his little sister she wasn’t so little anymore. At five months old she was a pudgy… thing with huge grey-blue eyes, a tuft of black hair and the happiest smile always on her face.

Little Cassiopeia, although Sirius had taken to calling her Cassia, was the happiest baby Regulus had ever seen. She was always laughing at the silly faces he made (a pretty contagious laugh) or, otherwise, smiling. She hardly cried, though Kreacher was there if it happened, and loved to be picked up.

As it seemed she was the un-Black-iest baby he had ever seen.

Maybe it was just because she was a baby, but from his mother’s frown he knew neither he nor Sirius had been such happy toddlers.

But Regulus loved little Cassia more than he loved anything in life. He loved how she gurgled at him with her arms wide open asking for him to pick her up. And how she smiled at the sight of him and laughed when he tickled her belly.

Regulus often wondered how something so small could change one’s life that much.

When Sirius got into Gryffindor he knew a huge rift in the family had been made. And his suspicions were confirmed when he came home with thousands of tales of James and Remus and Peter. He could see Sirius drifting away from him and it only deepened when he got sorted into Slytherin.

How dare he look disappointed? He was the one not to stick into tradition! Regulus should be the one to be disappointed.

But Sirius looked at him with disappointment and pity when he went to sit with his new house. Like he had done something wrong. As if Regulus had… deceived him.

But with Cassia… with Cassia he had a new chance. He would start over without making the same mistakes. He would love her unconditionally, no matter where she ended up.

He wouldn’t let Houses ruin that relationship, too.

Cassia cooed at him from her crib and Regulus smiled softly. “Hey, do you want to play?”

No, he wouldn’t mess it up this time.

 Sirius was sick of his family. He was sick of the judgemental stares and his mother’s scoffs. He was sick of the pureblood propaganda and the way her mother looked down at him.

As if he was less for thinking of muggleborns as equals.

As if he was wrong.

The only thing that kept him tethered to that horrible house was his sister. His sweet, innocent and kind little sister with wide open eyes and a heart bigger than the world.

Everything went to hell the summer after his fifth year, over dinner one evening.

“Siri, Siri,” Cassia tugged on his sleeve. “Sit with me,” she begged.

“How can I refuse?” Sirius grinned at her and tried not to feel anything at Regulus betrayed expression. Cassia was his sister, too, and he loved her with all his soul.

Cassia looked up at him. “Read me a bedtime story?” she asked.

“After dinner, little star,” he conceded.

And she smiled at him, little dimples appearing on her cheeks and making his heart melt.

But then their mother had to intervene and bring the matter of blood purity to the table. She said she was worried about what Sirius might be teaching her and didn’t want him to lead her astray.

And that was when Sirius finally snapped: the previous weeks, hell, even the previous years, becoming far too much for him.

So Sirius screamed and his mother screeched back. Their father shouted at them both while Regulus tried to take Cassia to a safe place. Walburga got out her wand and started firing curses at her eldest son while exclaiming he was only «just like the rest of them».

And so Sirius stormed off the house with only his wand on his hand and a handful of coins on his back pocket. He hailed the Knight Bus and disappeared in the night to never look back.

A couple of weeks later an owl knocked on Regulus window in the middle of the night. It carried a small package for Cassia and a short note asking Regulus to give it to her.

Despite the bitterness he felt for his brother, Regulus conceded.

 Dahlia Blishwick was twenty-six when Orion Black asked her to tutor his daughter, the one she had helped bring to the world over four years earlier.

“Mr. Talbot,” he said. “my sons tutor, died last year and Walburga says it would be best if Cassiopeia has a woman as a governess.”

“But,” Dahlia was at a loss on what to say. You do not say ‘no’ to the Lord of the Noble and Ancient House of Black. “I already have a job, sir,” she said politely. “And aren’t I too young? I think maybe you should be looking for someone older, more experienced in these things.”

But Orion Black just shook his head. “I think you can teach my daughter a lot more than those old ladies ever could. You’ve gotten far on your own, haven’t you?” he said. “I think my daughter will need that in the years to come.”

“But my job…”

Orion Black sighed. “Look, we’ll pay you the double if you want. You don’t even have to be all day with her, just some mornings or afternoons, whatever you choose. Teach her how to read, write, some maths and the way the world works as unbiasedly as possible.”

Dahlia stared at him open mouthed.

“I have a son on either side of the war,” he said with a tired smile. “I know only one of them will come out of this alive. I’d like my daughter to be able to make the best choice; not because of what her family says, but because it’s what she believes in. I want her to be able to make the right decision and stick with it,” he waved his hand in her direction. “Your family is still pure-blood, even if you’ve fallen a little since the old days, but it will be enough to content my wife. So,” he straightened in the chair of the hospital cafeteria. “What do you say?”

Dahlia had been given a choice. To help a little girl make the best of her life.

“I guess I’ll have to talk with my boss.”

And that was how she found herself as the new tutor of the youngest Black child.

 When Cassia turned six she got lots of presents, like all her birthdays before, but only one she treasured greatly. It was a well-read copy of Miss Dahlia’s favourite book when she was a child: Her Handsome Hero.

Miss Dahlia had read most of it to her in their classes, or had made her read it. It told the tales of a brave hero named Gideon and in its pages was underlined the importance of compassion, kindness and forgiveness.

Cassia hadn’t known it at that time, but that book probably saved her life.

Miss Dahlia was a nice lady and Cassia liked her very much. Her lessons were fun and she learnt a lot. Miss Dahlia liked to tell stories about her job or books she had read. She told her about her girlfriend –a muggle teacher– and made her promise to keep the secret.

Mrs. Pyrites wasn’t such a nice lady. She taught her manners, politics, dancing, how to play the piano and French. She smelled old and would pinch her arm with her nails when she thought Cassia was doing something wrong.

And for Mrs. Pyrites Cassia even breathed wrong.

“You don’t want the whole room to know when you’re inhaling and exhaling. Keep it to yourself. Short breaths for ladies.”

No, Cassia didn’t like Mrs. Pyrites at all.

But the book wasn’t the only gift Cassia loved. Even if her brothers were at Hogwarts they both had sent owls with their gifts (Sirius’ sneaking in the middle of the night so her parents wouldn’t notice).

Regulus had bought her almost half a year’s supply of Sugar Quills, Cassia’s favourite food in the whole wide world, that had her running the house on a sugar high almost each night for the next months.

Sirius, on the other hand, had woken her up the second the clock had struck twelve, thanks to the magic mirror he had given her once he left home. He had another one that connected the pair and they could keep in contact, for Sirius refused to be cut out from his sister’s life and leave her to perish with his family. His three friends had joined him on his rendition of Happy Birthday to his sister that got the desired result: make her laugh.

Since he also knew she liked books about adventure he had also gifted her one copy of a muggle book «the Evans girl» had highly recommended; The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.

Cassia had loved it and she hid it under her mattress next to Her Handsome Hero. Although she was sure Kreacher, who was the only one allowed in her room, didn’t care much for books.

Which was a shame because Cassia knew how great books were.

 Regulus was trying to teach his sister how to play chess when his whole world came to a halt. It was a hot July afternoon and they were on the playing room, with some cooling charms to make it bearable.

“And Father was so happy I could finally block him out we went out for dinner at The Siren’s Song just the two of us,” Cassia leaned in and whispered the next part. “He even let me eat the chop with my hands!”

Regulus widened his eyes in mock surprise. “He did?”

“Yes!” the seven-year-old was unaware of her brother’s teasing. “Kreek wasn’t very happy when he saw the dress he had to clean, though,” she added looking down at the chessboard with shame.

Regulus lips twitched. “I bet he wouldn’t. Did he start muttering to himself?”

She grinned. “He did! He got quiet and all red and everything when I told him I was sorry he had to work more because of me,” her eyes twinkled. “He always does,” she pressed her lips together deep in thought. “Where is he, by the way? He usually likes to sit with us when Mother and Father aren’t home.”

And Regulus didn’t blame him. They were, after all, the only ones who treated Kreacher like a living being. It made him feel angry.

“He’s doing some things for… a friend of mine,” Regulus stated carefully.

Regulus had joined the Death Eaters two years ago, feeling bold and proud of his choice. But his determination started to fade when he realized what kind of things his new friends were into. He started to feel trapped and the shame grew each time he was sent on a mission for those… people. And he didn’t want Cassia knowing any of that.

Cassia’s face fell. “Oh… And how long will he be gone?” her eyes light up again. “I don’t want to see Mother’s face if we make a mess in the kitchen trying to make dinner,” she paused. “Do you know how to cook?” she asked with curiosity.

But Regulus had stopped listening and instead looked at her with a worried frown on his face. “He probably should already have been back,” he said. “The Dark- My friend said it wouldn’t take long.”

Cassia felt a bubble of worry deep in her stomach. “Kreacher!” she called. “Kreacher come here!”

And the house elf appeared with a loud crack. He was wet and shivering. He laid curled into a ball on the floor, his hands pressed over his ears and muttering apologies and pleas to himself.

Regulus heart plummeted. “Cassia, go to your room!” he ordered.

“No!” the child fell to her knees and carefully touched Kreacher’s knee. “Kreek,” she said softly. “Kreek, you’re safe here, you can stop that.”

The elf stilled immediately and didn’t move. Cassia clearly panicked and she started shaking him. When Regulus caught her in his own arms to get her away from Kreacher she started trashing and screaming.

“Cassiopeia!” shouted Regulus. “Stop this! This isn’t helping anyone!”

“Let me go!” she screeched. “Can’t you see that he’s in pain?”

Regulus held her tighter. “Kreacher,” he said. “Please, breathe and tell us what happened.”

And the elf obeyed.

 Kreacher was a good elf, yes he was. He obeyed the rules, didn't disrespect the Masters (except Master Sirius –oh, Mistress was so happy to see him go) and took care of the house and its inhabitants.

It was his job, what he was born to do.

But now... now Master Regulus wanted to take him back to the Horrible Cove and Kreacher was scared. He didn't like the Horrible Cove and the Dreadful Potion... Kreacher didn't want to drink it again.

Master Regulus had come to Kreacher’s cupboard in the middle of the night and ordered Kreacher to get ready to take him to that cove. Kreacher knew all Blacks liked their sleep and no one would catch them getting out of the house because the Masters were all sleeping deeply.

So Kreacher wasn't expecting little Mistress Cassiopeia to be waiting for him and Master Regulus at the bottom of the stairs.

"Cassia!" Master Regulus exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Mistress Cassiopeia puffed her cheeks. "I'm coming with you," she stated.

Both Masters started to argue while Kreacher stared silently. In the end they glared at each other for a few moments until Mistress Cassiopeia, at last, relented.

"But you have to take this," she said giving them one of Mistress Walburga biggest handbags.

Master Regulus peered inside the bag and his lips twitched with amusement. "We aren't going camping, you know?" He reached inside the bag. "And what is this?" On his hand was a glass bottle of dark brown liquid.

Mistress Cassiopeia flushed. "It's a muggle drink," she said. "Miss Dahlia gets it for me. Sometimes... I just thought maybe you wouldn't feel like water so I grabbed both," and she seemed very proud by her occurrence.                        

Mister Regulus decided to humour his little sister and put the muggle drink back in the bag. "But you're staying here," he said. "Go back to sleep," he suggested.

Mistress Cassiopeia stared at him like he was a madman and Master Regulus snorted.

"Alright," he crouched and kissed her forehead. "I'll see you later. Come on, Kreacher. Take me to the cave!"

And Kreacher did.

Kreacher was shivering and trembling the whole time Master Regulus passed through the protections. Kreacher clutched at the sides of the boat so hard his knuckles turned grey and when he saw the pillar where he knew the Dreadful Potion was he almost passed out.

Kreacher was readying himself for another dose of the Dreadful Potion when Master Regulus spoke.

"Kreacher, I want you to make me drink the potion. Make me drink it no matter what I tell you and then... then grab the Hor-the locket and put this one instead," he deposited a nearly identical locket in the elf's fragile hands. "Then fill it again with the same potion and go back home and destroy the locket. Alright?"

Kreacher didn't want to do that. "Master Regulus..."

"I said ‘alright?’! I'm ordering you, Kreacher!"

Kreacher would have never said he'd ever hate being such a good elf.

[marauder--harder]

P.S. I Love You- A Sirius Black Imagine

A/N: I know, I know, two imagines in one night? Anyways, this is a little something that I decided to work on and post tonight in dedication to @goblackhatwithme . I hope you enjoy it, Renee! There are probably many mistakes in this so I am sorry but I wanted to get this posted tonight. This also has nothing to do with the film “P.S. I Love You,” but I thought it was a cute title. Hope you all enjoy!

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon. You were in the boys’ dormitory, lounging on Sirius’ bed and waiting for him to get out of the shower. You sighed in slight annoyance as you knew it was going to be a while. He was always so keen on using the “finest muggle products for his precious hair” and cursed Lily and yourself for showing them to him in the first place.

His showers always took at least an hour, actually longer when you were around him because he tended to ask you to join him. You were never one to say no to the boy, especially when you both were very, er- hygienic, to say the least.  

Shaking yourself of such thoughts, you sat up and looked around the room. You knew it well, as Sirius and you had spent many days holed up together cuddling on a cold winter’s day, or sent nights forcing him to study for an upcoming exam. You were the only one who got Sirius Black to study, and always had to persuade him with rewards. Mainly kisses.

As you looked at his trunk at the end of his bed your eyes lit up and quickly walked over to it. Even though it was the first day of spring, it was still quite cool outside and you loved borrowing his sweaters. They rivaled Remus’ in the level of comfiness, only beating his when they smelled like his cologne.

You were rummaging through the trunk, set on finding a particular favorite jumper of his, when you came across a small box that you had never seen before. Picking it up, you brushed off the small amount of dust on the worn top of the box. It looked old and like it had been opened and shut many times. Part of the edge was chipped off, and it had two initials carved into the top: S.B. It was clearly Sirius’ but you had never seen him with the tiny package. You slowly went to open it when you paused.

You shouldn’t be snooping through his stuff. If you had never seen it before then it was probably for good reason. He’s allowed to keep things to himself, why should you invade his privacy? Huffing softly, you stared down at this moral dilemma in your hands. It was just so tempting, and you had always been too curious for your own good. One peek wouldn’t hurt, would it?

You carefully lifted open the box, and pulled out its content. A pile of old papers, a ring, and some photographs. You smiled softly, quite surprised by your discovery.

You had recognized the ring as one his dad gave him when he was a young boy. He said that it was the ring that was handed down through the generations in the Black family and he hoped that he’d hand it down to his son one day. You smiled sadly at the thought. Even if things with his family had fallen apart, he still kept something that was close to his father.

The photographs were ones from his entire lifetime. Some older, more frayed, and some were crisp and new, like they had been taken recently. They were of him and his friends, him and you, and some old ones with him and Regulus as kids. They looked so happy, so carefree that it warmed your heart. At least they were close at one point.

You laughed slightly when you came across one of the marauders and you, all laughing while you pointed at Sirius with ice cream in his hair. It was taken on one of the last days of 5th year, when James dumped his ice cream on his friend’s head because he made fun of his chances with Lily. The boys were always messing around with one another and your heart swelled at the sweet memory.

Quietly, you looked down at the stack of papers. There were two, one pile looking considerably more well read than the other. You picked up the well read stack first and plucked one from the top. Opening it, you realized they were letters. Your letters, more specifically. They were the letters you had wrote him two summers ago--ones that you thought he never got. He had never responded to a single one you wrote him. You had wondered why he never returned any letter the entire summer, it nagging at you until you thought you had gone mad. Just as the beginning of that August went by, you had stopped sending him anything, believing that his parents were hiding them from him or that they were being delivered to the wrong house.

However, your eyes went to the other stack of papers in the bottom of the box, folded crisply and looking entirely less worn. They didn’t seem like they were nearly as well read. You hesitantly opened one and read it.

June 7th, 1974

Dear Y/N,

I got your letter today. I had to sneak it in past my parents, but I got it through. Reg said that he’d buffer all of my mail that I got for me, so  you don’t have to worry about me not getting them.

I’m so glad to hear from you, you have no idea. I know the break has just barely started but I am already counting the days until I get to go back. It is terrible here. Mum is set on teaching me ‘the proper, Black way of life.’ It is repulsive. She takes me to these fancy galas, trying to ‘find a suitable partner,’ which means a rich, snotty, air-head pure blood. I can’t stand going to them anymore. Although, I’m thinking of making them slightly more fun--the marauder way. I’d bet you be rolling your eyes at that.

Y/N, I miss you. Probably more than you know. I hate it when I’m not around you, you know. It seems like everything is so bloody boring and dull. Hell, it is boring and dull when you’re not around. Look, I know that I’m no good with words, but there is something I feel like I need to tell you.

You are the best friend I’ve ever had. Don’t tell James I said that, but it’s true. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and I know that you make my world so much brighter, so much better. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you in my life. You mean so much to me, darling. You’re smart, and disciplined, yet you still know how to have fun. You have the most gorgeous laugh, honestly I think I could listen to it all day. And bloody hell, you are so very beautiful. I know you don’t see it, but I wish you would. You have such a natural beauty, without even trying. You drive me insane, Y/N.

I know it was a terrible way of telling you, but every time I think of you I seem to get all jumbled up. Words just don’t seem to do you justice. You are so much more.

Anyways, I hope you are doing well, sweetheart. I cannot wait to hear from you again, as I think it will be the only thing to get me through this dreadful summer. And I hope I didn’t scare you off.

Eagerly waiting for your response,

S.B.

You folded up the letter, and put it back down. So he did get the letters? Why didn’t he ever send them? Did his parents end up stopping him from sending it? Hesitantly, you read through more of the letters until you finally realized why he didn’t send any of them. It was a passage from one in the middle of July:

I know you are probably wondering why you aren’t getting any letters back, and I am so sorry for that. If you ever confront me, I’ll probably lie and say that my parents took them away. I’m sorry for that too. Although, knowing you, you probably wouldn’t ask. You’d just be going barking mad waiting all summer for a reply. But I can’t bring myself to send you anything.

I know it seems strange, and rather rude, but I have realized something since the moment I finished writing you that first letter. I know it would freak you out, mostly because it freaks me out. I haven’t even said it out loud yet. But I think that you have the right to know, even if you never get this letter.

I love you.

I know, I know, the infamous heart-breaker Sirius Black fell for someone. It is hard to believe, right? I don’t know how it happened, but it did. And I am so, so sorry it did. I know that I’ll never be good enough for you. I know that I’ll never be able to give you what so many others can. But I can’t help but look at you and fall deeper.

And you have no idea how much that scares me. I’m not supposed to love anyone. I’m not supposed to care. It isn’t who I am. It is my one rule. Yet, whenever you are around, it seems that I don’t even remember why I had that rule to begin with. You are so perfect, Y/N. Too perfect. And I know that you’ll never love someone as childish and egotistical as me, but maybe you might find it in your heart to try?

When we go back to school, if you don’t hate me for ignoring you all summer, I am going to try and win you over. I know it seems stupid, and could end up making you despise me for good, but I can’t go knowing that I love you and not have at least tried to do something about it.

And he did. You had always wondered what changed between you two once you got back from summer vacation. He had said that when he saw you on the platform, he thought you looked more beautiful. He said that you grew into yourself that summer, and that you became more confident. You would have never known that he not only liked you, but loved you since that July.

Smiling widely, you put down the letters and placed everything back into the box neatly, the way you had found it. You closed the lid and stared at the initials scrawled into the top. You smiled and picked up your wand, muttering a small spell to engrave your initials next to his. Hopefully he will see it and know that you looked into it.

You put back the box and closed his trunk, content with not finding his sweater. The heat in your chest had spread throughout your entire body, warming it nicely.

Just as you sat back down on his bed, Sirius appeared in the room clearly done with his shower.

“What were you doing?” He asked, his signature smirk plastered on his face along with a curiously arched brow.

“Just thinking.” You replied, and walked over to him, draping your arms around his neck lazily.

“About what?”

You beamed up at him, your heart feeling so incredibly full with love for the handsome boy in front of you. “About how much I love you.”

He laughed heartily at your response and brought his hands to your hips. He pulled you close to him, your body now pressed against his bare, slightly damp chest.

“Well, I’m glad then, because come to think of it, I was just thinking about how much I love you.”

You quirked an eyebrow questioningly and leaned in close enough so your lips were almost brushing. “Oh yeah? And how much is that?”

You felt, rather than heard, him exhale, and your head spun with the intoxicating scent of him.

“Why don’t I show you, love?” He whispered, and closed the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours.

You kissed back passionately, and he smiled softly into the kiss, thinking back to the moment he realized he was in love with you.

He was petrified then, so incredibly scared of loving someone that much. But now, with him holding you in his arms, he realized how much you’ve taught him. You taught him how to be a better student, a better friend, and a better person. You taught him how to truly be a man. Most importantly, you taught him how to love; and for that he couldn’t be more thankful.