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Squint And You'll See It

Summary: Sirius and his potions partner are trying to brew Polyjuice Potion for class, and he can't seem to figure out why she won't wear her glasses.

Notes: Sirius Black x shy!reader. All fluff, really. This is the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written. I'm weirdly self-conscious about the sounds I make, how loud they are, if they could annoy/distract people, etc. so I wrote this just to comfort myself about it lol. I ended up using Y/N a bunch because using too many pronouns in a row makes my brain bristle so oh well. Still though, this is the sweetest thing I think I've ever written. Enjoy! <3

Y/N squinted up at the blackboard as Slughorn collected the class’s attention once again, and Sirius just about melted. The all-too-familiar scrunch in her nose and the crease between her brows gave him more comfort than he probably should have taken from her struggles to see the properties of Chinese Chomping Cabbage from so far back in the classroom. After an especially rapid flurry of blinking, she scribbled a couple notes on her parchment before fisting her knuckles in her eyes tiredly.

Sirius nudged her gently. As if it wasn’t already, the honey-doe eyes she gave him had his heart overflowing with a plush fondness. 

“Your glasses, love,” he whispered, nodding to her book bag, which hung off of the back of her chair. Y/N looked at it, then blinked twice. The glasses were a new and quite helpful development—one she hadn’t quite gotten into the habit of using yet. She eyed the bag again.

“I’m alright,” she whispered back and returned to her notes. 

Sirius frowned. “You sure?”

She nodded, giving him a light smile. 

Sirius frowned slightly but returned to his notes when Slughorn chided him for having his eyes elsewhere. But how could he be blamed? Only a madman would rather learn about ingredients than watch her. 

For a surprisingly long while, Sirius managed to stay focused on his notes, sometimes copying Remus’s, who sat on his right side, and only occasionally sneaking glances at Y/N, who sat on his left. After what felt like an eternity, Slughorn finally let the pair work on their Polyjuice Potion at a work table in the far back of the classroom. Sirius had come down with a nasty case of spattergroit several weeks previous and missed a week and a half of the brewing process. Unfortunately, Y/N had missed several days herself due to a family matter (now resolved with nothing to worry about, she had assured Sirius countless times), ending in the complete devastation of their original Polyjuice batch. And so, Y/N, unwilling to take a bad mark, and Sirius, ready to do just about anything to keep spending time with her, decided to make another batch. 

“Do you want to gather the ingredients or shall I?” she asked as Sirius scooted his stool closer to hers (to better reach the cauldron, of course).

“I can get the ingredients,” he said, flashing what he hoped was his most charming smile, and she blushed.

“Alright, I’ll, erm … I’ll work out our next instructions …” Sirius nodded as Y/N fell into her reading, smiling to himself as her brows furrowed once again to scan the page. 

Sirius skirted the classroom towards ingredient shelves, passing by James, Peter, and Remus, who all raised their brows at him with smirks. He simply rolled his eyes, rummaging through the shelves until he had gathered the correct ingredients. But when he turned around, ready to make his way back to Y/N and their Polyjuice Potion, he was met with a horrible sight: Remus, holding a tight-lipped frown in a near-futile attempt to ward off a smile, Peter, doubled over with laughing cramps, and James, turned around in his chair and arms wrapped around himself, raking them up and down his back in a sultry fashion as he pretended to make out with someone. 

With a peeved sigh, Sirius chucked a bundle of knotgrass at James, seed pods bursting and small nettle-like seeds clinging to James's hair. Of course, the three burst into peals of raucous laughter. Sirius groaned, and quickly made his way back to the back work table as Slughorn chastised the rest of them.

“Sirius, are you alright? You’re looking a bit … erm, warm.”

Sirius’s ears burned even hotter, and his eyes flew to examine the grout between the floor tiles.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m perfect, lovie.” He set down his armful of glass jars and clay bowls, trying desperately to change the subject. “Found what we’ve got to do yet?”

“Mhm,” she hummed. “Just here, it says we must add three bits of boomslang skin—”

“Got that here.”

“—crush the bicorn horn and add that—”

“Got that as well.”

“—and then there are some cooking instructions, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Sounds good to me, love.” Sirius smiled warmly. 

The two worked in harmony, Y/N checking and double-checking that she was measuring everything correctly and Sirius adding the ingredients once she had prepared them. The two worked in sweet, warm peace, managing only one easily-averted disaster, all while keeping quiet as Slughorn continued to teach the rest of the class. There was a strange sort of domesticity to it that made Sirius’s heart skip beats, and he imagined himself with Y/N in their future home, huddled around a cauldron and brewing something to keep them warm on a Siberian night—

“How long should it be at a high temperature again?” Sirius asked, forcing himself from his daydreaming and adding the crushed bicorn horn.

“Erm …” Y/N’s nose practically brushed the page with how closely she peered at the instructions. With the smallest sound of annoyance Sirius had ever heard, her head moved to allow her eyes to travel along the far wall, where a dozen or so posters displayed recipes for a variety of potions. She sighed lightly, squinting heard and pushing herself on tiptoe (as if it would help).

“Use your glasses, love,” Sirius suggested but was quickly brushed off.

“‘M fine, really,” Y/N murmured, eyes still squinting. 

“Sweetheart,” the word caught Y/N’s attention, and she fell back onto her heels, eyes barely meeting Sirius’s before drilling into the bubbling cauldron, “you’ll give yourself a migraine. Use your glasses.” Y/N glanced uneasily from Sirius to her bag on the back of her chair and back. Sirius’s brows furrowed. “What is it, love?”

Y/N shook her head. “Nothing, it’s nothing.”

“Then … wear your glasses,” Sirius reasoned, and she let out a little huff. “Why don’t you want to wear them, lovie?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to wear them, it’s just …” Sirius watched her with soft, almost concerned eyes.

Y/N sighed, pushing herself onto the stool with knees pressed together. The thought was silly, but she had known Sirius long enough to know he wasn’t going to let this go. 

“The buckle on the bag, it’s …” Sirius’s knee knocked gently against hers. “It’s loud—it clatters about when I open it. Catches people’s attention. And my glasses are in the bag, so if I open the bag, people will stare, and then people stare at me when I have my glasses on anyway—not that I’m not grateful for the glasses! They’re a great help for seeing the board during cl—”

Sirius couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, and he almost felt bad at the pout Y/N dealt in return. “First of all, love, people stare at you and your glasses because you look fucking divine when you wear them. I should know.” He brushed her arm playfully with his, and she flushed a brilliant shade of red-pink. “And second, no one thinks anything about your loud bag buckles, I promise.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I just—I don't want to disrupt them is all …” 

Sirius chuckled again, but still, Y/N didn't make a move for her bag. It took only a moment and a half of contemplation before Sirius burst into the most fake-sounding fit of coughs ever created in the history of this Earth. Nearly the entire class turned to stare at him as he seemingly hacked up a lung, and he hung himself dramatically off of the table’s edge to play it up just that little bit more. 

“Mr. Black, are you quite alright?” Professor Slughorn asked, eyes slightly wide with concern.

“Y-yes, Pro—” Sirius coughed a dozen more times, discretely winking at Y/N, who seemed to get the point and quietly retrieved her glasses from her bag. Not a soul noticed.

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Oooh dear

I honestly don't know what to put lol my writing's pretty okay but yaknow I'm just gonna put down a couple fun ones so here you go

Coming in at #5, I've got Rebel Black Boy! It's a pretty good one, I think. I've been thinking of reposting it as an x reader rather than an x OC just because people seem to like those more so yeah :)

Next at #4, we've got my The Linguist series (I say series but it's two parts and still unfinished lmao). I actually quite like this one but the reason it only gets 4th is because it's unfinished so yeah

At #3, we have Strings! There's a special place in my heart for rockstar!anyone, especially Sirius, and I also really like this story. Idk I think it's sweet

With #2 comes Favorite Photo! This was the second little drabble that I did and it didn't quite come out as good as the first, but I still kinda like it *shrug*

And speaking of the first drabble I did ... Lipstick Stains comes in at #1!! I REALLY like this one honestly, I think it's so cute. Just the idea of Sirius giving me kisses is enough to make my heart melt, and I just ashlkjdshafk

ANYWAY

I hope you liked this!! Please lmk if you have any ideas for rewrites for any of these or any of my other works OR have any asks/requests!

(also sorry for the late reply, I haven't been on my computer in a while)

Much, much love

~boricua

What Do You Want To Be?

Summary: Sirius has a panic attack that takes a very sweet turn.

Notes: Harry Potter Universe, Sirius Black x gn!reader, modern AU or post-Hogwarts. I got the inspiration for this from a stand-up Netflix special, but I can’t remember the name of it. 

Sirius’s mind worked in a peculiar way. It ran at a million miles a minute no matter the situation, and although sometimes that was a good thing, it often worked against him. The smallest mistake could send his mind down a spiraling drain of anxiety and panic, and despite James, Peter, and Remus’s best efforts, it was difficult to fish him out again. Sometimes, the best thing the boys could do for Sirius was hold his hand and wait it out by his side.

Then, Sirius met Y/N. They were quite good friends from the very beginning (James loved to accuse Y/N of stealing Sirius away from him—all in good fun, of course), but Y/N had never seen Sirius’s descent into his own mind until the two started dating. Sirius had harbored a secret crush on Y/N since only a couple of days after they first met, and, much to his immense delight and utter relief, the feelings were reciprocated.

Now, nearly four years into their relationship, Y/N was the expert in keeping Sirius present and focused, even when his mind was trying to drag him down the drain. (It also helped that Sirius hadn’t had any contact with his mother or father in years, so he was much less prone to panic attacks overall.) James, Peter, and Remus had also gotten a bit better at calming Sirius’s nerves when necessary, but Y/N was still the best at it. 

Sirius smiled slightly at the sound of the door unlocking and took another plate from the sink, hoping to load the dishwasher quickly enough to greet her at the door. The sound of the door closing quickly erased that possibility, and Sirius’s shoulders sagged some; though he knew it wasn’t a big deal, he was a little more than disappointed that he wasn’t—

Sirius gasped sharply as arms encircled his waist, his own pulled tight to his chest in a defensive position. The next thing he knew, the plates in his hands were on the ground, shattered, and he was on his knees, apologizing and trying to pick up the pieces with shaky fingers.

“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to—promise, I didn’t mean it—”

“Sirius.” Sirius’s head shook violently back and forth as if trying to shake away the soothing effect Y/N’s voice had on his mind, and apologies continued to spew from his mouth as he cut himself on the pieces’ sharp edges. “Sirius, love—look at me.” With a gentle but firm hand, Y/N held Sirius’s cheek and guided him to look away from the shards of plate in his bloody hands. 

“‘M sorry.” Sirius was tearful now as he looked into Y/N’s eyes, but they shook their head gently.

“Don’t panic,” they said simply. “What do you want to be?”

The first time Y/N had said this to Sirius was right after he had awoken from a nightmare. He had run away to the Potters’ house only days before, and James had invited Y/N over, knowing they would want to be with Sirius. The two had only just started dating, and although this aspect to their relationship was new, James was sure that if anything happened, Y/N would be able to calm Sirius with ease. Y/N was still awake when Sirius woke from his nightmare that night, and he barely had time to crawl into their arms before he began to shake and cry uncontrollably. And just as James knew would happen, with two simple sentences, Y/N had calmed Sirius’s mind from a racing whirlwind of anger and fear to a light drizzle of emptiness—an emptiness that was at least partially soothed by their presence. 

So on this particular afternoon on the kitchen floor, Sirius’s peculiar mind processed these two sentences very carefully. “Don’t panic” was easy enough; Sirius took a deep (if shaky) breath and forced himself to blink slowly, keeping his eyes on Y/N’s throughout. “What do you want to be?” was a little trickier, but his mind gave him a head start: a good friend, an auror, Harry’s favorite uncle … it was almost like a game, and it distracted his mind perfectly from the panic he was experiencing just seconds ago. And then, his mind threw another answer in his face, and it came flying out of his mouth without his permission.

“Your husband.”

The silence that followed Sirius’s words filled every crevice of the small London apartment. Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, and Sirius’s mind, which had finally quieted for just a moment, began to refill with anxiety.

“Yeah?” Y/N said, and Sirius nodded slowly. They smiled. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

Y/N guided Sirius into the bathroom and cleaned his cuts with gentle touches, apologizing each time he winced at the rubbing alcohol. Sirius could scarcely believe what had just occurred. He had just proposed, right? Usually proposals were a surprise to one party involved—sometimes both parties had a sort of “game plan” before it all—but he’d never heard of a proposal that was a surprise for both people, so did this count? He didn’t even have a ring. Should he have gotten one by now?—

“Sirius,” said Y/N, and Sirius looked down at them. 

“Yes?” he whispered. They gazed up at him with soft eyes, and the stress that had built up in the last minute or so flowed away yet again. Y/N placed a soft palm on Sirius’s cheek, their other thumb rubbing circles over the bone of his right wrist. 

“You feeling any better?” they asked, and Sirius nodded twice. Y/N smiled at that, taking a curl that fell in front of his eyes and smoothing it back. “Did you mean to say that … earlier?” they asked, and for once, Sirius found a hint of anxiety in their eyes instead of his.

Biting his lip, Sirius shrugged. “I mean … I didn’t plan it or anything, and I haven’t got a … a ring, but …” he shrugged again, his eyes falling to Y/N’s where it lay over his bandaged hand. He bit his lip. “But I … I wouldn’t mind, as long as … as long as you’re … happy with it.”

Y/N grinned up at him, light and mischievous. “Do you want to marry me, Sirius Black?” they asked in a teasing tone, and Sirius groaned, leaning forward and burying his face in the crook of their shoulder and neck. 

“Don’t tease,” he murmured, lips pressed to Y/N’s collarbone as he spoke. 

“Well, you’ve got to give a response to my proposal, Mr. Black,” Y/N responded with a faux-innocent look. “D’you wanna marry me?”

Sirius peered out from his spot on Y/N’s shoulder and nodded, a fierce blush burning over his face. “Yeah, I wanna marry you,” he whispered against their lips, which curled up with a genuine smile. 

“We can go down to the courthouse later, if you’d like?” they whispered, and Sirius nodded, pressing a sweet, warm kiss to their lips.

Favorite Photo

Summary: Sirius does the tiktok trend where there’s some fake dialogue at the beginning saying “why do you keep smiling at that one photo?” and then he shows a cute photo of Y/N

Notes: Harry Potter Universe, Sirius Black x reader (no Y/N beyond the summary), modern!AU (only because there’s tiktok), headcanons

This trend popped up on Sirius’s for you page and he immediately wanted to do it

I think there are two possibilities with Sirius doing this trend

The first one is super sweet and fluffy, because we all know Sirius is Sweetheart™

He spends way too long scrolling through his photos, trying to find the perfect photo of you and him together

And that kinda turns into him just going through his entire camera roll and looking at all the photos and watching all the videos

He’s easily distracted lol

And eventually he finds a video that James took when they were at a party

James is quite drunk, but the video is surprisingly steady, and he’s walking around the party and finding each of the Marauders

Just for fun, I guess? James still doesn’t remember that party because he was really out of it, but that’s okay lol

And when he finally gets to Sirius, he finds the both of you laying on the couch with Sirius laying on your stomach, his chin resting on your chest as he just kinda stares at you

So Sirius takes a screenshot and boom, new favorite photo of the two of you

And of course, he’s got that lovesick look in his eyes at the beginning of the tiktok when the screen says something to the effect of ‘Why do you keep smiling at that photo??’, and the background music is probably like Billie Eilish’s cover of Hotline Bling or something pretty and soft like that (“Just like you!” Sirius insists, and everyone in the room rolls their eyes)

Most of Sirius’s followers (besides his friends, of course) follow him because he’s an absolutely GORGEOUS specimen of the human species, and you’re fine with that because, let’s be real, you agree with them

But when he posts stuff about you and him (which is relatively often) it’s always this sort of thing: lovey dovey and soft and sweet

And all of his followers go absolutely wild for it

They eat that shit up

Every one of them sees the both of you as their ideal relationship, and they all simply love you both immensely

Now, if you recall, I did say there are two possibilities

The second is kinda silly, but I think it still fits with Sirius’s personality

Because this time around, Sirius knows exactly which photo he wants to use

And it’s an absolutely terrible one

Not actually terrible, of course, because Sirius thinks you look gorgeous in every photo, and he’d never post any photo of yours without your express permission

But not exactly your finest moment either

It’s probably something silly, like you making a disgusted face at something, glaring at him after a prank, ugly-laughing at something one of your friends said—you get the gist

Maybe he’d post this one after the first one with something like “runner up” in the description lmao

Of course, it’s all in good fun, and if you were to perhaps come to him pouting once you see it, he’ll cuddle you to death and apologize and ask if you want him to delete it

He’s such a thoughtful little sweetheart <3

Strings [2]

Summary: Sirius disappeared a long while ago. As a child, you resented him for it, though the feeling dulled over time. But when he started appearing on the front covers of popular magazines, nearly a decade after he’d left your life, the ache in your chest showed itself again. Though, it seems he hadn’t forgotten about you as you had thought.

Notes: rockstar!Sirius Black x conductor!reader. The first part was only really meant as a sort of preview for this part, so this one’s quite a bit longer than the last, but I think I like this one quite a lot! 

Sirius was in a meeting when he spotted her name. James had got a call from Lily (who was slowly reciprocating the boy’s advances much to his delight), and the Marauders soon found themselves in her office, going over the logistics of their new album. Peter and Remus were leaning over Lily’s desk, pouring over the paperwork and hastily-scribbled notes that laid there, and James tried to do the same, though he kept getting distracted every couple minutes and staring at Lily with a dreamy, far-off look in his eyes.

Lily rented two rooms in a tall building in central London to run her small music production agency: one for her office space and the other as a sort of waiting area. She had insisted they meet in the waiting area in this particular instance—her office was apparently quite the mess—so James and Sirius sat on one couch while Lily, Peter, and Remus sat on the other, a low coffee table with a small stack of magazines separating them.

As Sirius’s eyes wandered, he recognized one of the magazines—a high-society lifestyle one that his mother would have loved—and, on a whim, began to flip through it, nodding or shaking his head or humming absent-mindedly when his opinion was asked for by his bandmates. And then, on page thirty-six, there she was.

Y/N Y/LN’s debut performance with Royal Opera House Symphony on 12 July, 1984

Sirius didn’t pay any attention for the rest of the meeting. As soon as he got back to his flat (magazine from Lily’s in tow, of course), he’d called the number in the article and bought himself a ticket. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting to come out of this symphony trip, but he’d be damned if he missed the opportunity to see Y/N again

Two weeks later, Sirius had donned his best symphony attire—black slacks borrowed from James, a wrinkled white button-down, and grey Converse because he forgot to ask to borrow James’s fancy loafers as well—and took the bus to London’s Royal Opera House. He had stopped at a florist’s shop on the way, choosing a delicate bouquet of crimson roses and baby’s breath. Finally seated, Sirius checked his watch and sighed, blushing lightly—forty-seven minutes before the start of the show. 

Surprisingly enough, Sirius wasn’t the earliest; there were plenty of people closer than he to the stage, and several dozen children on what seemed to be a school trip were chattering and giggling excitedly towards the very front. He was suddenly glad for his decision to sit in the second level of balconies; if he had sat in the very front, a kid from the school trip was sure to recognize him, and Sirius wasn’t really in the mood to sign autographs or take photos. 

His knee bounced anxiously as London’s elite filed into the seats around him. He received more than a few strange looks from the men and women, all in their tailcoats and gowns, but, for the first time in his life, his mother had trained him well, and he simply sent aggressively polite smiles to anyone who dared look at him funny until finally, the lights dimmed and the orchestra began to tune. 

Sirius had chosen a seat right at the edge of the balcony, hoping for the best view possible of the musicians below, but as much as he squinted and scoped out the cluster of cellos, he couldn’t find Y/N anywhere. After a minute or so, the orchestra had finished tuning, and it seemed that the entire concert hall held its breath for the conductor to appear.

And appear she did. 

The breath Sirius didn’t realize he was holding completely left his lungs as Y/N herself graced the stage, waving to the audience with a stunning smile as she made for the podium. Her dress was made completely of black tulle and satin, broad, layered ruffles flowing around her with effortless elegance that nearly made Sirius swoon. 

It hit him like a truck. Sirius hadn’t thought much about why a principal cellist would be featured in a magazine when he first saw her name, but it was miles more reasonable for a conductor to be written about. But—Christ—she was a year younger than he, and he was only twenty-four himself. She must’ve been the youngest conductor to perform at the Royal Opera House in decades—centuries, maybe even—

Sirius’s whirlwind of thoughts fell to an abrupt silence as the orchestra began to play. Even when he was old and grey, Sirius wouldn’t be able to recall a more enjoyable night full of Russian waltzes than that one. The muted horns and lulling strings sent him into a trance. All he could do was simply watch Y/N’s movements, graceful and emotive all at once, and let himself imagine that it was just he and she, that they were waltzing in an empty ballroom in one of those period pieces on the BBC channel that James’s mother loved so much. 

Sirius was overjoyed and terribly disappointed at the same time when the concert came to an end. As soon as Y/N turned to the audience and bowed, one hand over her heart as she motioned to her orchestra with the other, he was on his feet, bouquet under his arm as he clapped furiously. The concert hall was filled with applause even as she left the stage, and after a couple seconds, she returned, bowing once again with her orchestra. This happened three more times before the audience was sated, and the lights rose once again as everyone began to file out. 

Too impatient to mope along behind the elderly symphony-goers, Sirius squeezed through the throngs of people and, after little thought, snuck through a door labeled “Staff Only”. Behind it lay exactly what he was hoping: a completely empty staircase. Sirius bounded down it, bouquet clutched tightly in his left hand as his right tracked along the railing to keep him from falling, until he reached the first floor. 

The stairwell emptied into a staff corridor that led towards the stage, tall and lit with blinding fluorescents. Sirius could hear muffled chatter from the stage, which echoed off of the cement floors and cinder block walls. Through a door a dozen feet down the hall, someone bid farewell to someone else and, with a laugh, departed. Sirius began walking towards the voices. Just as he reached the door, it swung open, and he stepped back to avoid being smacked in the face. 

If Sirius was asked to imagine the moment he saw Y/N again after nearly a decade apart, he was sure he wouldn’t have imagined what actually happened. Y/N was smiling over her shoulder as she opened the door, facing away from Sirius until she stepped fully into the hallway. And of course, she was even more beautiful up close. Her black dress hugged her torso just perfectly, the skirt dancing around her legs as if it were alive. Her hair lay perfectly in its natural form, her skin clear and soft-looking, and Sirius was met with a waft of jasmine flower that nearly sent him to his knees. But when she finally turned and met Sirius’s excited gaze, the smile that spread across her lips dipped slightly.

“Oh,” she said. Sirius couldn’t tell if she was surprised in a good way or a bad one. “Um … hello, Sirius.”

The door fell shut behind her.

“Hello,” Sirius said and nearly cringed; he sounded like a blushing schoolboy. The pair stared at each other for a long moment until Sirius finally came to his senses. 

“Here,” he said and thrusted the bouquet out at her. “For you.”

“Oh. Thank you,” she said quietly, taking the flowers in one hand and adjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder with the other. “They’re … beautiful.”

Sirius’s smile broadened, and the two once again stared at each other. 

“Um … are you alright?” Y/N finally asked, brows furrowed. Sirius blinked dumbly, and then nodded. 

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m good. Great, even.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “Okay … and, um …,” she scratched the back of her neck, “why are you here?”

Suddenly, Sirius felt incredibly awkward. Here he was, standing in front of a girl—a woman, now—whom he hadn’t seen in years. It was unfair of him to expect them to resume being the best of friends as if nothing had happened. 

“Uh, I just—I just heard you were performing and thought I might as well, um, come watch,” Sirius said. “Thought maybe we could catch up or hang out … or something.” The end of the sentence turned upwards like a question, but Sirius nearly gasped in relief when Y/N smiled mildly. 

“Um, sure, we can talk for a bit,” she said and began walking down the corridor towards the ticket booths. Sirius followed at her side like a lost puppy as the two walked in slightly-more-comfortable silence, passing through a door that led into the Royal Opera House’s atrium, then exiting into the warm summer night. 

“So,” Y/N began, “how’ve you been?”

“Good, I’ve been good!” Sirius said, walking between her and the empty street with his hands behind his back, fiddling nervously. “And you? Seems you’ve been doing well for yourself.” She laughed lightly, and Sirius beamed. 

“I’m doing well,” she confirmed. “I mean, I’m resident conductor for the Royal Opera House in London. I could do a lot worse.” They both chuckled. 

“Very true, you’re doing brilliantly,” Sirius said, and Y/N smiled up at him. Fucking hell. His heart was going to leap out of his mouth at this rate.

“I mean, you’re doing alright for yourself as well,” Y/N said. “You’ve got your own band and everything.”

Sirius blushed a little, embarrassed. “I wasn’t sure if you knew.”

Y/N scoffed humorously. “Goodness, Sirius, I don’t live under a rock. I see you on the cover of every magazine when I do my shopping.”

“I know you don’t live under a rock,” he said with a little laugh. “But still, I don’t like to assume.”

She shrugged. “Fair enough.”

The pair turned right and crossed a street.

“How’d you find out we were performing tonight anyway?” Y/N asked, looking up at Sirius. Her brows furrowed lightly, and a thin crease appeared between them. 

“Saw it in a magazine,” Sirius said. “Called in that night to order my ticket. You really think I was about to miss my childhood best friend’s debut performance?”

Y/N let out a scoff that was a little less than humorous. “You mean the girl you disappeared on in Year 11.”

Sirius’s smile fell. Of course.

Sirius couldn’t remember much of the time he spent at home before he ran away to James’s. His best memories were the ones with Y/N when they were children, sneaking out of their respective houses in the night to meet on the streets of Paris and have fun or talk or simply walk together in silence. After he ran away, Sirius didn’t think about her until the first summer he spent at the Potters’, when he realized he didn’t really have a way to get back to her. His parents had paid for him to be a part of the Youth Symphony, and he had stayed at their family house to attend. But Sirius refused to ask Mr. and Mrs. Potter for anything more than they had already done for him, even if it meant never seeing Y/N again. Still, he was a sixteen-year-old boy. He mourned the loss of his best friend, but he hadn’t thought of what she would think when he seemingly fell off the face of the planet.

“I’m really sorry for—”

“It’s fine,” Y/N interrupted. “Truly. I know you wouldn’t have stopped attending without a reason.”

“You deserve to know why,” Sirius countered. 

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “I don’t deserve to know anything you don’t want to tell me, Sirius.”

He frowned. “And if I do want to tell you?”

Y/N stopped walking, and Sirius stopped too. She was looking up at him with a look that sent a wave of nostalgia through his mind. She’d often look at him like that when he showed her his bruises and cuts after a particularly rough evening with his parents. She’d tend to them in silence, using the iodine wipes, antiseptic, and colorful band aids with stars on them that she’d begun to carry around for him, before sitting in front of him and watching him with that soft look of concern. 

With a small huff, Y/N switched the bouquet to the hand furthest from Sirius and took his hand and dragged him to the street, barely looking both ways before crossing.

“Um—where’re we going?” Sirius asked, trying his best to ignore how her hand pulled him along so firmly yet gently. He hoped his palms wouldn’t get sweaty. 

“You’ll see,” she said and dragged him into a small corner shop. 

A small bronze bell tinkled to life as the odd pair entered the small shop, and a small child popped up behind the counter. 

“Welcome to the Last Stop Corner Shop! Here, you’ll find all your last minute needs! Nail polish? We’ve got some! Beer in a bottle? Absolutely! Garlic salt? Aisle two, on your left! Beer in a can? Right next to the beer in a bottle! Hotdogs?—”

“Amir, you don’t have to do that every time I stop by,” Y/N chided, pulling Sirius further into the shop. 

“Oh, Y/N! It’s good to see you! Who’s this? Is he—”

“He’s a friend of mine. Sirius,” Y/N introduced. 

“Sirius?” Amir peered up at Sirius with the widest, most curious eyes the man had ever seen. “Hey, you’re that guy from TV! My sister reeeally likes you. She said the other day that she thinks you’re—”

“Amir!” came another voice from the back room, and a girl around sixteen rushed behind the counter. “Stop telling everyone that, you little—” As soon as she noticed Sirius’s presence, the girl froze. Her dark eyes widened to the size of tea saucers, and her eyes flicked from him to the tabloid magazines with his picture on the racks behind him, then back. Once she’d confirmed it was indeed Sirius Black standing in front of her, she simply stood, arms hanging at her sizes, and gaped. 

“Er …” Sirius glanced at Y/N for help, “hi there.”

“C’mon,” Y/N said quietly, quickly pushing him into the forest of aisles and out of the girl’s view. “Sorry about that,” she said with an embarrassed laugh. 

“S’alright,” Sirius said with a chuckle. “I'm getting it a lot more and more now-a-days.”

“I can imagine,” Y/N said, maneuvering them towards the back of the shop. “Fasha’s obsessed with the Marauders. Can’t get enough, truly. It’s all she plays whenever I stop by.”

Sirius smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind if ever the boys and I need, uh, nail polish, garlic salt, hotdogs, or beer in a can or a bottle.” Y/N laughed, nudging his hip with hers. Sirius blushed. Goodness, what was she doing to him?

“Don’t tease her. She idolizes you.”

“Oh she idolizes me, does she?”

Y/N glared up at him, and he snickered. The two came to a stop in front of a section of shelves full of wine, bottles glimmering in the shop’s flickering light. “Pick your poison,” she said, motioning to the shelves. Sirius considered for a moment before taking two and holding them up towards Y/N.

“Cabernet or Muscadelle?”

Y/N’s brows furrowed in thought for just a moment before she took the Cabernet, and the two made their way back towards the counter.Thankfully, Fasha had recovered enough from her shock that she was able to check them out (eyeing Sirius in poorly-veiled awe the entire time), and in no time, Sirius was dragged outside once again. Y/N led him a block or two further down the road, then across an empty intersection diagonally and into a small park. Once she decided they were deep enough into the park, she withdrew a Swiss army knife from her purse and extended the corkscrew attachment. 

“You drink bottles of wine in the park so often that you’ve got a Swiss army knife for it?” Sirius teased as Y/N opened the bottle, and she chuckled lightly. “This is the first time I’ve used the corkscrew bit,” she admitted, passing him the bottle. Sirius took a swig. “I usually only use the nail file.”

Sirius nodded in understanding, passing the bottle back. Y/N took a sip and sighed.

“So,” she said.

“So,” Sirius parroted back. The two walked in silence, passing the bottle back and forth leisurely as he tried to decide what to say. There was so much he wanted to tell her: how much he enjoyed singing and playing the guitar, how much he loved his friends, how he regretted leaving her so abruptly. Y/N looked up at him gently, and he took a slow breath. Even if they hadn’t seen each other in years, Sirius knew her. She wouldn’t press for more information than he was comfortable with giving or sell him out to the tabloids. She would simply listen. “Um, you … you know how my parents were.” Y/N nodded. “Yeah. I really liked going back to school because I didn’t have to … deal with them there. I could just live without having to watch my every move, y’know?” Again, she nodded, but Sirius didn’t really wait for a response, taking a quick gulp of wine before he continued. “My best mate, James—he’s our guitarist, but sometimes he does drums—he was always offering for me to stay with him over school holidays so I wouldn’t have to go home. His parents are lovely—seriously, some of the best people I’ve ever met—but I never wanted to bother them, y’know? So I didn’t ever take him up on it.

“So, one Christmas, I went back to my parents’, and they were awful—what’s new?” Y/N smiled a little sadly. “I … honestly, I don’t remember much, but I ended up at James’s doorstep one night, and Mrs. Potter wouldn’t let me go back home—not that I wanted to go, of course—for the rest of winter holiday, and then summer holiday as well, and the winter one after that, and …” Sirius sighed slightly. “I haven’t gone back to my parents’ house since. And honestly, I couldn’t care less about what they’re up to now.” Sirius swallowed thickly before plastering on a smile and looking down at Y/N. “Fuck ‘em, y’know?” She barely smiled.

The odd pair continued down the path, taking turns with the wine as the both of them began to stumble slightly.

“Thank you for telling me, Sirius,” Y/N said. She was beginning to grip onto his arm to keep steady, and Sirius didn’t think the warm feeling in his chest was only from the alcohol. 

“I’m still sorry I never tried to find you again,” Sirius mumbled, but Y/N just shrugged.

“I’d rather you keep me in the dark and get away from them than stay just to see me,” she reasoned. Sirius giggled, buzzed. “What?” she whined. “‘Get away from them,’” Sirius repeated, voice high and exaggerated, before giggling again. “You say ‘them’ like they’re the scum of the earth.” “They are,” Y/N said indignantly. “Horrible people. They’re the worst. If I ever see your mother or father in person, I’d be happy to punch them in the thr—oh look, a little gazebo!” Before Sirius’s addled brain could catch up, she was already running for the little wooden structure next to a large lake. He stumbled after her, blinking very hard to get the world to stop spinning, and finally leaned against one of the wood pillars, watching as Y/N examined the benches inside with drunken interest. A giddy smile made its way onto his face without his knowing, and she turned to him with a childishly excited look. “It’s like in The Sound of Music. Y’know, when Liesl dances with that one guy in the glass pavilion while it’s raining?” Her face fell into a more thoughtful look. “Liesl actually quite annoyed me in that movie. She needed to find a hobby or something.”

Sirius laughed, setting the now only half-full wine bottle down on a bench and bowing dramatically at Y/N, hand extended.

“May I have this dance, my dear?” he asked in his worst old-timey posh accent. Y/N snorted but played along, taking his hand delicately.

“Of course, my darling,” she said in an equally ridiculous voice. Sirius grinned and stood straight once he’d moved the bouquet safely onto the bench beside the wine. He held her close to his chest with one arm and held her right arm out to the side as he led them in a very messy waltz, humming an odd mix of the waltzes she had conducted an hour or two earlier. Y/N resorted to simply standing on his feet as he moved them both, her arms curling round the back of his neck and his hands coming to rest at the small of her back. Eventually, Sirius’s voice subsided, and the two were left swaying in the center of the gazebo in silence.

“Y’know,” said Y/N into Sirius’s chest, and he dipped his head to hear her better, “I really hated you when you left.” Sirius let out a long, quiet breath, and he pressed his frowning lips to the top of her head. “I hated that I wouldn’t be able to talk to anyone about my parents. I hated that you didn’t call or write to explain what happened. I … I hated that my life would be so much more unbearable without you.” She shifted to look up at him. “I missed you terribly, Sirius.”

Sirius smoothed Y/N’s hair out of her face, his hand moving to rest at the nape of her neck. “I missed you too, lovely. I’m sorry I never called or wrote.”

“I forgive you,” Y/N whispered. 

Despite his swimming vision, Sirius could see Y/N perfectly. Even in the dark, the moon shone on her soft skin, in her slightly glossy eyes … and Sirius couldn’t bring himself to look away. He couldn’t think of anything else he wanted to look at, be it in that moment or ever again. 

“Did I ever tell you how … beautiful you are?” When he was drunk, Sirius’s mouth tended to speak without his brain’s permission, but in this instance, he didn’t quite mind. Y/N’s eyes narrowed, her full cheeks pushing upward in a beaming smile. Sirius couldn’t get enough. 

“Truly, Y/N. You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“Oh goodness.” Y/N buried her head back into Sirius’s chest, and he laughed slightly, lightly pulling her back into his sight. 

“Just …” 

He hesitated. Was this a good idea? 

Again, his mouth spoke for him.

“Tell me if you want me to stop. Okay?”

Y/N nodded. Sirius smiled slightly, and his eyes fluttered from her glassy ones to her lips and back. Very slowly, his head dipped down, and he gently pressed his lips into hers. 

In the moment between when Sirius kissed Y/N and when Y/N kissed him back, Sirius was afraid he had made a terrible mistake. She didn’t move a muscle for one second, then two, and he was prepared to pull back when finally, her soft lips pushed gently back into his. The two stood sheltered under the gazebo for a long while, tasting the Cabernet on each other’s lips and leaving the questions for their future selves to deal with. 

What were they? Would this work with Sirius and the tabloids? Where would they go from here?

But those were all questions for tomorrow …

Strings [1]

Summary: Sirius disappeared a long while ago. As a child, you resented him for it, though the feeling dulled over time. But when he started appearing on the front covers of popular magazines, nearly a decade after he’d left your life, the ache in your chest showed itself again. Though, it seems he hadn’t forgotten about you as you had thought.

Notes: rockstar!Sirius Black x conductor!reader; this one’s pretty short, more like a prequel to the real one-shot, but I’m working on the second and final part now. Much love <3

The only thing Sirius enjoyed about summer holidays as a child were the months he spent in France. During July and August, the Black family would pack the essentials and move from Number Twelve to their townhouse in Paris. Orion and Walburga were both of the opinion that England, although fine enough to send their children to school in, was inferior to France in the arts and culture department. Thus, Regulus attended the French wizarding world’s most prestigious art school, the Mamot Académie des Arts, and Sirius spent his days in rehearsal for the Summer Youth Symphony of the Palais Garnier. 

If he was perfectly honest with himself, Sirius truly hated the violin. Sure, he was quite good—he held the position of concertmaster in the Youth Symphony by the time he was fifteen—and he enjoyed himself enough at rehearsals, but the instrument itself was loathsome. It was too high-pitched and far too elegant for his style. Sirius much preferred the electric guitars Muggles were using in their music at the time. But he had very little choice in what he did with his life, so he suffered through.

The one silver lining to Sirius’s annual musical internment was the Youth Symphony’s principal cellist. Y/N. She was a very skilled young individual, and Sirius couldn’t be more thankful for it, because that meant she sat directly across the conductor’s podium from him. This allowed him to, whenever he wasn’t performing his duties as concertmaster, watch her as she led her section with that quiet sort of elegance she exuded with everything she ever did. And Sirius loved to watch her. 

Sirius gained the confidence to approach Y/N after rehearsal during the summer of 1974, between his third and fourth year. He was fifteen, she fourteen, and as soon as they became friends, they began to wonder why they hadn’t done it earlier. The pair couldn’t be more different personality-wise—Y/N was miles more reserved than Sirius, though it only seemed to improve their friendship—but as they grew closer together, they realized that their families were quite similar as well, and each found solace in the other for the rest of that summer and the following one. 

Then, on Christmas Eve of 1975, Sirius ran away from home. He hadn’t seen Y/N since.

Oh my goodness

Apparently headcannons are where its at bc you all have been interacting like crazy with my blog ever since I posted my first one and I’m so thrilled about it!!! :D

Just wanted to thank you all for all the support, it means the absolute WORLD to me and I love you all so much!! I recently hit a thousand likes and fifty reblogs, which is so crazy to me, but I’m so glad that you all enjoy my writing!!! 

As always, requests are always appreciated, and I’d love to hear anyone’s thoughts on where The Linguist should go, because I really didn’t have much of a plan for it in the first place (so sorry lol)

Also I fixed my asks so you can actually send asks now :) I had it set so you couldn’t send asks when I first started posting on tumblr and forgot to switch it back when I started asking for requests *facepalm*

Anyway, just wanted to say thank you. Hope you all have a fantastic day <3<3

Lipstick Stains

Summary: reader and Sirius do the tiktok trend in which one partner covers the other’s face in lipstick stains.

Notes: Harry Potter Universe, Sirius Black x reader (no Y/N), modern!AU headcannons

First things first: Sirius is absolutely the one wearing the lipstick and covering your face in the stuff

The whole idea kinda started with him trying out your different lipsticks

And you tried to explain to him that when you first put on liquid lipsticks, they come off on things really easily

Like if you’re drinking something, the lipstick leaves a mark on the glass

And of course Sirius stubbornly pretends not to believe you, so you tell him to try it out

You meant on a cup or something

He did not take it that way

So of course, Sirius applies some liquid lipstick, holds the side of your face, and presses his lips very firmly on your cheek

Like he’s trying to stamp your cheek with his lips

Which I guess he is

And he pulls back and examines your cheek and sees that it did indeed leave a mark, and he’s unreasonably excited about it

So this turns into Sirius trying each and every one of the available lipsticks—even going to Mary and Marlene and Lily begging for more—and seeing if they’ll leave marks on your face

And at the beginning, you’re a bit flustered by all this because you really weren’t expecting Sirius to spend his day pressing bruising kisses all over your face and neck

But here you are

Covered

Covered

In kisses

By the time Sirius has the bright idea to actually film the tiktok, you’ve simply got this fond look in your eyes, and when Sirius purposefully smudges his lipstick for the tiktok, you reach up to fix it like it’s second nature

Sirius has got plenty of followers (mostly people who are completely enamored by him, and how could you blame them?), but the most common comment on this post is “do you see the look in their eyes when they look at him?”

The Bookshop

Summary: Bouquet in hand, Sirius feels slightly more prepared to see her. A lot has happened in the last five years, and the two have a lot to catch up on.

Notes: Harry Potter universe, famous!AU, rockstar!Sirius x reader, oneshot; part two of The Linguist. Let me know if you like it! Part three coming soon ...

Part 1!

Fistfull of flowers collected and paid for, Sirius continued down the cobblestone alley, eyes peeled for his destination. He had visited Teliska & Rook’s Rare Books once before, when Y/N had first acquired a job at the small shop, but unfortunately hadn’t had the chance to revisit the cozy corner of Paris since. 

Sirius’s heart stuttered for a moment as he rounded another corner and spotted the bookshop; the sign’s gold lettering was crisp as ever despite the faded evergreen color surrounding it and the bay windows framing the tall oak door could probably do with some dusting, but otherwise, the shop was just as Sirius remembered it. He squinted at himself in the reflection of a bakery window, fixing his hair and rolling his shoulders back to fix his posture, holding the bouquet tightly in his left hand. With a breath that Sirius hoped sounded more confident than he felt, he made his way to Teliska & Rook’s Rare Books.

The heavy door opened with a groaning creak and the light tinkling of bells, and Sirius was immediately hit with the scent of old books. He nearly sneezed as a cloud of dust furled up from the ground, rubbing his nose furiously to rid himself of the feeling. 

Once he had recovered his bearings enough to look around, Sirius was surprised at the familiarity of everything. The shop was organized in the same manner it had been nearly five years ago, with one corner designated to modern reads, another serving as home to a cluttered cedar desk where patrons could check out, and the rest of the small building crammed full of bookshelves that reached from floor to ceiling. 

Closing the door behind him, Sirius tentatively stepped into the shop, which seemed alarmingly empty, and peered around. Truthfully, it seemed as if no one had stepped foot in the place in years. Sirius peered down one aisle of bookshelves, then another, until his eye caught on a familiar spine. Twelfth Night. Y/N’s favorite. She always found the classics a bit ridiculous, as her Muggle mother had made her read them all when she was of age, but Twelfth Night was “far too funny not to like”.

Sirius’s lips quirked up into a little grin, and he slid the volume off the shelf, opening it to a random page. To his mild surprise, this edition came with illustrations, though, upon closer inspection, Sirius guessed it wasn’t bought that way. Its previous owner seemed to have doodled the scenes in the margins, turning the book itself into a piece of art.

“Sérieux Noir?” An elderly man—Teliska of Teliska & Rook, if Sirius’ memory served him right—peered around the corner of the aisle in which Sirius stood, wide eyes magnified by Coke bottle glasses. “Sérieux, c’est toi?”

Sirius grinned. The man was very French and never could grasp that his name was ‘Sirius Black’ rather than ‘serious black’. 

“Oui, Monsieur. It’s been a while.”

“So it has, mon fils, so it has!” The lean man hobbled down the aisle towards Sirius, squeezing his shoulder with a falcon’s grip once he was within range. He looked to the bouquet in Sirius’ hand. “I assume you’re looking for our Y/N?”

Sirius smiled subconsciously. “Yes, I was.”

Teliska smiled knowingly. “She’s in the back. Elsie’s been getting sicker lately, so Y/N’s been drowning herself in work. You know how she gets.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sirius said as the old man guided him down an aisle, then down another towards the back of the shop. “Tell Ms. Rook I send my love.”

Teliska peered at Sirius, magnified eyes holding a grave sort of look, but nodded nonetheless. “I will.” The odd pair stopped at a plain oak door with a brass knob tucked away in the furthest recess of the bookshop, and Sirius’ palms began to sweat. He wiped them hastily on his trousers, exchanging the bouquet from one hand to the other. “She’s just through there. Working on repairing some ancient tome for the Sorbonne. They’re working her to the bone these days—far too much for what they’re paying her  …” 

Teliska muttered on as he hobbled back towards the front of the shop, and Sirius watched the old man’s thin frame as he went, silently begging him to turn around, come back so he could put off the meeting he knew awaited him beyond the oak door with the brass knob. 

But the old man was out of sight soon enough, and Sirius was once again alone in the bookshop, surrounded by books and dust and everything Y/N loved. He faced the oak door again and bit the inside of his cheek. Why was he so nervous? He and Y/N were never really together, so why did he feel bad? What did he even feel bad for?

Sirius huffed out a sharp sigh and forced himself not to think. Just open the door. Open it. And he did. 

If the rest of Teliska & Rook’s was dusty and crammed with books, the back office hadn’t been dusted since the store’s opening and had to be waded through due to the sheer volume of books piled on the floor, in cabinets, on shelves and countertops—any and every square inch of would-be free space was occupied by a book. This time, Sirius did indeed sneeze when he was hit with a waft of dust, cringing immediately after at the harsh disruption to the otherwise silent back office. 

Shutting the creaky oak door as gently as possible, Sirius blinked several times at the maze of stacked books that lay between himself and where he knew Y/N’s desk resided. He was a relatively thin and quite well-built young man, but these narrow, precariously constructed corridors of books weren’t exactly something he had expertise in navigating. Nevertheless, Sirius would try. 

Each step was made with bated breath as Sirius expected any second for half the books in the room to come crumbling down around him, and each time they didn’t was a small miracle. He snuck about the back office for several minutes, trying to find his way towards Y/N’s desk until finally, he came upon a small clearing in the paper forest.

Y/N sat hunched over her desk, eyes focused on the ancient, half-rotted book in front of her as she traced line after line with a latex-clad finger. Sirius found himself unable to move for several moments, simply watching the young woman read through the ancient text, scribbling away what he assumed was the translation without so much as looking at her hand. 

It was only when Y/N’s focus switched from the ancient text to her own notes that she noticed a pair of black combat boots planted at the mouth of the book maze, and her head whipped up to look at the intruder. Sirius and Y/N simply stared at each other for several minutes, Sirius anxiously awaiting Y/N’s reaction to his presence, before Y/N’s shoulders dropped, and the corners of her mouth drew barely upwards.

“Sirius.”

Sirius took the fact that she didn’t seem to despise his very presence as a good sign. “Hi,” he said, and immediately regretted sounding so dense. “I—I brought you these,” he said hastily, an even poorer attempt to rescue the conversation from its already awkward start, and thrust the fistfull of flowers out at Y/N, who huffed out a small giggle. 

“Oh, thank you,” she said simply, rummaging around her desk until she found a small drinking glass filled with water that was probably a day old. She took the flowers from Sirius’s hand—Sirius was struggling more than he had anticipated to keep from hugging the living daylights out of her—and placed them in the makeshift vase before turning back to him. The two stood awkwardly across the small office from each other, the books keeping them from maintaining any real personal space, and Y/N coughed lightly. 

“Can I … can I give you a hug?” 

Sirius blinked dumbly. 

“Ye—of—yeah! Yeah, of course—! Of course.”

Y/N smiled, and the two met in the middle, embracing each other tightly. Sirius sighed into her hair, nose pressed into the crown of her head, and felt his heartbeat calm. They were fine. There was no need to worry—though his throat did swell up slightly when thin fingers found their way over his shoulders and towards the top of his spine. 

Sooner than Sirius would have liked, Y/N pulled away, gazing up at him with a lovely look in her eyes. Now that he had a good look, Sirius began to notice the little changes Y/N had taken on over the years: her hair was, oddly, shorter, as well as choppy, as if she had cut it herself; her eyes were lighter from the sun; the skin at the outer points of her eyes just barely hinted at crows feet. 

“It’s good to see you, Sirius,” Y/N said, lips closing around her beaming smile. 

“It’s good to see you, too,” Sirius said, much more softly than he had wanted as Y/N stepped out of his arms and resumed her spot at her desk.

“How’s your tour going so far?” she asked as Sirius found a wooden stool and dragged it up to the desk’s side. 

“You know about that?” he said, a sudden pressure in his chest beginning. 

Y/N’s brows furrowed. “Sirius, I know I spend all my time on the other end of a book maze—” she motioned to the mass of books he had traversed, “—but I don’t live under a rock.”

Sirius laughed, an embarrassed blush descending on his ears. “Right, right. I mean, I don’t like to assume. You never know.” Y/N nodded in understanding. “But it’s going well. Yeah, it’s fun. Remus has been working on something he won’t show the rest of us—we all think he’s seeing someone on the side—James is finally getting somewhere with Lily—”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Sirius chuckled. “It’s a miracle, truly. We’re all amazed. And … did you hear about the whole deal with Peter?”

Y/N nodded, and Sirius was thankful there was minimal pity in her expression—though there was something he couldn’t quite identify. “How are you all doing after that?”

“Eh, as good as can be expected,” Sirius said with a shrug. “Dorcas’s been on drums for us ever since. She and Marlene are still going strong.”

“Of course they are,” Y/N said with a hint of pride. “The relationships I put together always last.”

Sirius laughed lightly, eyes drifting through the room without really seeing before they landed again on Y/N. 

“And what about you? How’ve you been fairing?”

Y/N shrugged. “Ah, you know, the usual. Helping around the shop, doing some freelance work for the Sorbonne.”

“Mr. Teliska said something about how they don’t pay you enough,” Sirius mentioned, eyeing her with brows raised, and Y/N sighed, irritated. 

“Okay, listen,” she started, and Sirius laughed. 

“Had this conversation a lot now, have you?” he said, and Y/N rolled her eyes. 

“You’ve no idea.” Once Sirius’s giggling subsided, she continued. 

“Ivan thinks that because I’m basically doing research for the Sorbonne, I should be paid as much as a researcher—that I should be paid a salary—but, as I’ve explained to him countless times,”—Sirius began to laugh once again—“I simply don’t have the level of education that the Sorbonne is looking for in their faculty and therefore can’t be paid a faculty salary. I simply don’t have the financial means to go to school again.”

Sirius’ laughter had barely subsided when Y/N was finished, and he nodded understandingly. 

“You know, I could always just give you the money,” he suggested.

Sirius had never heard Y/N laugh so hard in his life. He laughed as well, though to a much lesser extent as he watched her hair bounce through peals of giggles.

“Oh please, Sirius,” Y/N said, delicately wiping a tear from her eye. “That’s absolutely ridiculous.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is,” Y/N insisted, letting out an incredulous breath. “Sirius, I am absolutely not going to take money from you. And I don’t have to work at the Sorbonne anyway. I’m getting by just fine with what I’ve got.”

“Y/N, life isn’t about getting by, it’s about enjoying yourself,” Sirius said, and Y/N shook her head. “Love, you can’t expect me to not try to help you when I’ve got the means to.” The pet name slipped without Sirius’s permission, but he stood his ground as Y/N sunk further into her chair. He knew her well; at the beginning of their friendship, she would have insisted on refusing, and he would have asked if she would do the same in his position, and she would go silent, and Sirius would have won. But Y/N was the smartest person Sirius knew. She didn’t need to go through the whole conversation to know what would be said.

But Y/N’s mildly defeated look made Sirius’s mind itch uncomfortably; he didn’t want to make the rest of this visit awkward or weird in any way.

“Have you eaten today?” he asked, commandeering the conversation away from whatever it was before. Y/N peered up at him, biting her cheek.

“I had a coffee this morning,” she mumbled, and Sirius’s face fell into a disapproving frown. 

“Merlin’s beard, Y/N.”

“Do you want to get lunch?”

“Will you eat something if we go get lunch?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s get lunch.”

Y/N nodded and the two stood, Y/N finding a thin jacket and Sirius standing at the mouth of the book maze as he watched her pack her purse. 

“Ready?” she asked, throwing the strap over her head. Sirius simply nodded, and Y/N drew her wand from her pocket. With a simple wave of the thing, the books blocking the floor between the two and the door flew into the air, some stacking onto other already-precarious piles and others floating close to the ceiling, creating a sort of paper-and-ink trellis under which Y/N walked. Once at the door, Y/N peered back at Sirius, who was looking at the floating books, jaw hanging open. 

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

The Bouquet

Summary: Sirius is nervous to see his longtime ... something ... but a stop at a small Parisian florist shop helps him feel more prepared.

Notes: Harry Potter universe, famous!AU, rockstar!Sirius x reader, oneshot; this is the first character x reader oneshot I’ve written (the others are all OCs), so let me know if you like it! 

Part 2 available now!

Sirius kept his head down as he walked through the web of Parisian streets surrounding Sorbonne Université’s campus. He’d done his best to dress in ordinary clothes, even borrowing a t-shirt of Remus’s since all of his own were covered in sequins or made of mesh or fishnet fabric, and he sincerely hoped he wouldn’t be recognized. He loved Marauders fans dearly, but today, he simply wanted a moment to himself. His heart had nearly jumped into his throat when he saw Paris on the list of stops on the Marauders’ Europe tour, and he’d been buzzing to get to the City of Light since they had hit the road. 

A small florist’s shop caught Sirius’s attention as he turned down a narrow, cobble-paved alley, and, hoping to steady his anxious heart, he slipped inside. Immediately met with the scent of every fresh flower he could imagine (and the sensation that his leather jacket was sticking to his skin from the humidity), Sirius meandered his way through the narrow aisles, searching for a flower that stood out. 

“Puis-je vous aider, ma chérie?” 

Sirius peered over his shoulder—perhaps he hadn’t thought the whole ‘undercover’ thing all the way through—and let out a small, quick sigh. The woman who spoke was a teacup of a woman: decadent in appearance, warm, several decades older than he, and immensely small. Sirius figured she probably wouldn’t know who he is. 

“Oui, s’il vous plaît,” he said, cringing at his odd-sounding French. He was out of practice.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” the woman asked, shuffling her way to stand next to him.

“Um, I’m not sure,” Sirius admitted, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “I don’t often go flower shopping.”

The teacup woman laughed lightly. “Well, what are you buying the flowers for?” She peered knowingly at him over her spectacles. “A young lady, perhaps?” Sirius aggressively avoided eye contact as something akin to fire spread up his chest and neck, threatening to swallow him whole. She laughed again. “I see,” she said, peering at the bouquets around them. “I can help, ma cherie, don’t worry.” 

Sirius trailed after the teacup woman as she shuffled to the other end of the shop. A sign hung above several aisles, reading Crée le Tien: Create Your Own. She slowly made her way up one aisle, then down the next, picking and choosing a blossom here and there until she accumulated a beautiful fistful of small flowers, each prettier than the next. 

“Here,” she said, and Sirius took the bouquet. Pointing at each kind of blossom in turn, she listed: “Baby's Breath for everlasting love, forget-me-nots for respect and true love, Queen Anne’s Lace for safety, sweet alyssum for worth beyond beauty, and honeysuckle for true happiness. And an extra alyssum for you. When it starts to wilt, get her more.”

“Oh M-goodness, thank you,” Sirius said, taking the extra flower and peering at each flower. “Truly, this is perfect. Thank you.”

The teacup lady smiled knowingly. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you, ma cherie.”

Sirius blushed lightly. “I hope so.”

Oh goodness .... thank you for thinking of me @itstheghostofmypast​!!! <3<3<3

Oookay i listen to a horrifying conglomeration of like seventy different genres so I’ll try to put something from each lol

“Dreams - Take 2” by Fleetwood Mac

“Should’ve Been Me” by Mitski (my mom HATES mitski but that’s ok :’) )

“Bad Habit” by Steve Lacy

“Lovers Rock” by TV Girl

“El Apagón” by Bad Bunny

GOD it was hard picking just five songs :( but i tried so oh well

Honorable mention goes to “Mother Love” by Queen though because Freddie Mercury stops singing towards the end of it and Brian May picks up the lyrics and it’s because Freddie died of AIDS in the middle of recording but they still wanted to finish the song. Makes me cry every single time istg :C

BUT YEAH if you have music recommendations or need music recommendations, feel free to ask :D

🎶✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨

Shuffled my playlist so here we go

Don’t stop believing by journey

tides by Ed sheeran

The greatest show from the greatest showman

style by Taylor swift

Boys will be boys by Dua lipa

@on-the-outside @pride-potato @geeky-gay-greek @i-love-the-mcu-3001 @i-dont-know-nor-care-go-away @sun-daisies @br4ck3tb0y @cheeselovinpuffin @sparkycinnamon @synaphrel and anyone who wants to join!

Masterlist of Masterlists

Hi there, lovely!

I’m boricua! I’m thrilled that you’ve decided to take the time to snoop around here, and I hope you like my writing! I’m always open to constructive criticism and can also serve as a wall to talk to/bounce ideas off of if you can’t think of anyone else to ask. We can talk about anything you want, from waffles vs pancakes to how Monet married his widowed daughter-in-law. Literally, anything goes as long as you’re respectful to me, others, and yourself. :)

In terms of what I write for exactly, I’m open to pretty much anything! Harry Potter was what got me into writing fanfiction in the first place, so I write mostly for the Marauders, but I love Marvel and Stranger Things as well, so if you have any requests for those or any other fandoms, ask and I’ll do my best to fulfill your wishes! 

Update: yall, guess what. It's been a while. Quelle suprise. (not the dangerously high levels of sarcasm and self-loathing because I promise you I want to post more here, I'm just bad at it im sorryyyyyyy) Nothing much is new, just trying to continue that goddamn Sirius saga (I think I'm sorta on my way with it actually) but I've also been into AUs a lot lately, so maybe I'll do someting with that *shrug* we'll see. I hope you, my lovely, are doing wonderfully though! Much much love <3 (22/2/2024)

Happy reading! - boricua

Masterlists

↳ Marauders Masterlist

Sirius Getting You Out Of Class

Sirius: *peeks head into classroom* Hey, er, I’m looking for Y/n L/n? They here?

Teacher: Um, who are you?

Sirius: Oh, I’m Sirius. *finds Y/n* Ah, there you are, love. Let’s get going, shall we?

Y/n: Uh—yeah, totally!

Teacher: Ehem, excuse me, Mr. Sirius, but Y/n can’t just leave class—

Sirius: *to Y/n* What are you learning?

Y/n: Quadratics.

Sirius: I can teach you that. C’mon, love, let’s get out of here. 

The tears I shed for you could fill a thousand oceans. But they could not extinguish your house.

Lemony Snicket? Can’t remember, honestly

September

Summary: James falls in love far too easily.

Notes: Harry Potter Universe, 1975-78, James Potter x Remus’s cousin!OC, non-Jily AU, imagine.

It was that time of the month.

Remus Lupin was curled up on the couch in the living room of the Lupin residence. He was wearing a large patched sweater, sweatpants, and thick wool socks despite the warmth of this particular summer morning; the sun was barely up and it was already quite warm outside. 

James Potter and Sirius Black sat on the opposite end of the couch, both with worried looks. They had arrived at the Lupins’ the night before to provide support—both emotional and physical—to their lycanthrope friend, but at this point, they weren’t sure what to do. Remus had a seemingly-unbreakable fever, and Sirius had been attentively dabbing away at his brow for the past three hours as Remus shivered under his layers of clothing.

“What should we do?” said James after a while, and Sirius sighed, furrowing his eyebrows anxiously.

“I don’t think there’s anything we can do,” he said. “He’ll be fine after the transformation tonight, but until then, all we can do is—”

Old wood floors creaked from the hall. James and Sirius looked at each other before their attention turned to the new arrival. 

Shuffling from the narrow hallway came what could only be described as a walking load of laundry. Blanket upon blanket was layered on top of a form—though the only way anyone could tell there was a person under it all was the two feet scuffling about in slippers and the pair of glasses similar to James’s that peered from under a winter hat and two upturned hoods. 

The pile of blankets dragged itself to the kitchen, where a delicate hand ventured out of the cocoon of warmth to fetch a mug, then a carton of milk, and finally a tin of something Sirius and James couldn’t quite catch. 

A solid minute passed in which the laundry pile prepared something in the mug before turning and trudging into the sitting room.

“‘M cold, ‘n m’cr’mps ‘r bad,” a small voice said from the depths of the pile, holding the mug out to Remus’s shivering form, who gladly took it. The blanket monster waved James off of the couch, who stood out of the way very confusedly, before taking his place and reclining over the expanse of empty space. 

Then, very suddenly, it opened its blanket-webbed arms.

Inside the blankets, there lay a girl around James, Remus, and Sirius’s age, who was wrapped in many items of winter clothing, much like Remus. The lanky boy wasted no time in taking a gulp from his mug—James and Sirius now realized that it was hot chocolate—and scrambling into the girl’s warm embrace. 

“Owww,” the girl groaned as Remus situated himself, and he froze, moving more carefully.

“Sorry, Ember,” he muttered, removing his elbow from her gut. The two lay there together, covered in blankets and in quite a bit of pain, leaving Sirius and James to stare at them as if they were completely foreign.

Finally, James was brave enough to break the silence. 

“What the actual fuck?”

~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~

Remus’s fever eased up in the afternoon, and, upon a multitude of questions about the mystery girl he had been cuddling with all day, explained: she was September Jane Howell, Remus’s cousin (on his mother’s side; she was a Muggle, but she did know about Remus’s condition and the wizarding world), though she lived with the Lupins for reasons Remus didn’t let on. James and Sirius still weren’t sure how they had never heard of her before today—they had known Remus for nearly six years now—but they had enough sense not to pry.

James and Sirius stayed at the Lupins’ for a week, and James swore it was the most painful seven days of his life.

Despite their rocky introduction, September was a fantastic person. She was kind and very intelligent—not to mention the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in his life. Her short hair was occasionally tied up in two little buns, which James tried very hard not to find endearing, and her olive skin was completely covered in freckles that only darkened with the summer sun.

But James knew better than to fall for September. He was already in love with Lily Evans, and he’d be damned if he didn’t marry the red-headed beauty. 

~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~

It was a year before James saw September again.

He, Sirius, and Peter were all staying at the Lupins’ once again to help Remus (and just to hang about) and, of course, that meant that September would be there. James knew—or he thought he knew, at least—that he had overcome his childish infatuation with Remus’s cousin.

But when James entered Remus’s house only to see September with her head thrown back, laughing at something Sirius had said— 

He nearly passed out on the spot. 

~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~

Yet another year passed before James gathered the courage to do something about his interest in September. Lily had rejected him for what felt like the millionth time just before the winter holiday, revealing that she would never date him, ever—

—even if she were interested in men.

Although he was a bit embarrassed—he had been pining for a girl who physically couldn’t be interested in him for the past six years—James was barely sad. He had felt his crush on her dwindling for a while, at that point, and he honestly wasn’t even sure why he kept up the charade. 

Remus had decided to host a small New Year’s Eve party for his friends (plus September, of course), and all of the Marauders were invited, along with Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, Mary, Alice, and Frank. Remus was usually very reserved, never one for attention, but with a lot of persuasion, Sirius got him to invite more people than just the Marauders. 

Everyone had arrived by half past nine with the exception of Marlene, Dorcas, and James. September was on Sober Friend duty with Remus since neither really fancied the idea of going without their wits for the night, and she was in the kitchen when James arrived.

She heard him before she saw him, though. James shouted a boisterous greeting to Remus, Sirius, and Peter, hugging each in turn, before saying hello to everyone else. (He strategically avoided Lily, still mildly embarrassed with the whole thing.) Almost immediately, Sirius dragged his best mate to the counter in the kitchen that was designated as the bar, and there she was. 

Time slowed in James’s mind as September turned, her hair falling perfectly over one shoulder. She smiled and walked to him, her hips swaying in an effortlessly sultry fashion under the skin-tight pine dress she wore. Before he knew it, she was hugging him, saying hello and offering him a red solo cup full of what smelled like fruit punch spiked with Firewhisky. 

Sirius hastily dragged James out of the kitchen and away from September, knowing immediately that James was in for it now. 

“James!” Sirius snapped in front of James’s face, trying to retrieve him from his dazed state, and, much to his relief, James blinked rapidly. 

“What?!” he shouted, slightly too loud, earning strange looks from a handful of people. “What?” he whispered harshly to Sirius.

“Mate, are you alright?” asked Sirius. “You saw Ember and just … blanked.”

As if he had forgotten, James remembered his recent encounter with Remus’s cousin. The way her lips curved into a smile … her shining eyes … her chest pressed against his ….

“James!” Sirius snapped in James’s face again. “Mate, stop that!”

“Shit.” James cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

Sirius chuckled and shook his head. “You’ve got it bad, Prongs.”

Smuggle-Born

Summary: James, Sirius, and Peter get worried when they notice their close friend sneaking off every couple days.

Notes: Harry Potter Universe, Marauders’ era, Remus Lupin x muggle-born!OC, blurb

James, Sirius, and Peter watched from under the Invisibility Cloak as Remus peered down a corridor, checking if it was empty before slipping into the furthest classroom on the left. Three pairs of shoes scuttled after him, all concerned for their friend. Inside, the classroom seemed empty, but Remus only stood near the window, peering out absent-mindedly. The hidden friends exchanged a confused look, but they were quickly interrupted by the door opening behind them. James, Sirius, and Peter barely made it out of the way before she walked into them. Lisa Whitlock sauntered in, a cigarette dangling lazily from her smirking lips. The three friends looked at each other in confused awe as Remus blushed. 

“I’ve got your shit, Lupin,” said Whitlock, casually dropping her leather satchel on the nearest desk and unlatching it. 

“Thanks, Lisa,” Remus mumbled, terribly shy in the girl’s presence. 

“We’ve got to do something,” whispered James desperately, and Sirius took initiative. Very dramatically, he threw the Cloak off of him, James, and Peter, looking incredulous.

“Moony!” he shouted, sounding aghast. “What are you doing?! There are better ways to deal with your mental issues than drugs! I can tell you from experience!”

Remus looked at his three idiot friends with wide eyes as Lisa glared at him.

“What the hell, Lupin? This was supposed to be secret!” she hissed, and James turned to her.

“What—you selling narcotics to my mate?” he snapped, and Lisa turned to him with a withering glare.

“If you ever took the time to get your head out of your ass, you’d know what he’s here for,” she spat.

“What is it then?” squeaked Peter, trying to appear ferocious. “Alcohol? Pills? Sex?!”

Lisa rolled her eyes as Remus cringed, his blush deepening. Without a word, she quickly retrieved a thin box and a floppy packet, which she shoved into Remus’s chest before walking away. “Here’s your shit. You get me caught again and I’m never selling to you again. Understand?”

Remus nodded hastily and watched as she left the room, his eyes shamefully falling to her swaying hips. The room was silent as James, Sirius, and Peter eyed the products in Remus’s hands in confusion.

“What kind of weed is that?” asked Sirius finally, and Remus rolled his eyes, smacking his friend over the head with the packet.

“They’re Muggle things, bonehead,” he snapped. “Pencils and graphing paper for Astronomy. She buys them from London and sells them here to help with classes.”

James, Peter, and Sirius all went wide-eyed. Remus shook his head with a sigh, tucking the things into his schoolbag as his friends murmured apologies. Of course, he didn’t care enough to hold a grudge, and the Marauders left the abandoned corridor behind. But after several minutes of silence on the topic, Sirius couldn’t take it.

“So she’s a … a smuggle-born?”

Sirius Admiring from Afar

Remus: *snaps in front of Sirius’s face* Mate, listen to me. 

Sirius: *not listening in the slightest* Yeah yeah, Moony, absolutely.

Remus: *rolls eyes* You’ve got to stop just staring at her, Pads.

Sirius: *dreamily* But just ... look at her. 

Remus: *rolls eyes again* You’re pitiful.

Sirius: *offended bc he’s dramatic as Satan himself* Am not!

Remus: *deadpan* Oh, yeah, you’ve only been pining after her for the past three years. You’ve never even talked to her before.

Sirius: *indignantly* Have too.

Remus: *looks up from book* Oh?

Sirius: She needed a book on a high shelf in the library once. It was wonderful ...

Remus: *shakes his head* You’re a complete and utter simpleton. 

Sirius: And that one day when she smiled at me ... *sighs dreamily again*

Remus: *rolls eyes so far back into his head they get stuck*

Sirius’s First Encounter with an Electric Blanket

Sirius: ... What is it?

Y/N: It’s an electric blanket.

Sirius: ...

Sirius: A what now?

Y/N: *laughing* Like a regular blanket but it warms you up.

Sirius: With magic?

Y/N: No, with electricity, through the wires.

Sirius: Huh ... *watches blanket warily* ... can I try?

Y/N: Sure!

Sirius: *makes bed, switches blanket on, gets under covers*

Sirius: Y/NNNNNN, nothing’s happeningggg!”

Y/N: *laughing* You have to plug it in, silly. 

Sirius: Oh. :|

Y/N: *plugs blanket into socket*

Sirius: *makes grabby hands* Come cuddle.

Y/N: *rolls eyes, gets under covers*

*after a couple minutes*

Sirius: *gASP* HOLY SHIT Y/N ITS WARM UNDER HERE CAN YOU FEEL THAT MERLIN’S LEFT BALLSACK THIS IS SO COOL I-

🐾 Marauders Masterlist 🐾

Sirius Black

Imagines ↳ Orestes — in which Marlene McKinnon is very very gay ... but her sister isn’t. ↳ Attention to Detail — in which Sirius is desperate to learn to tell when Lola is uncomfortable, especially after he figures it out the hard way. ↳The Linguist — in which rockstar!Sirius goes to visit his old friend—or were they more?—while on tour.      ↳Part 1: The Bouquet      ↳Part 2: The Bookshop      ↳Part 3: The Bistro (coming soon ...) ↳Strings — in which rockstar!Sirius reconnects with the girl of his dreams at the symphony. ↳Part 1      ↳Part 2

Blurbs ↳ The Rebel Black Boy — in which neither Sirius nor Freya want to be here, but at the very least, they can find solace in one dance together. ↳ Screaming Portraits — in which Sirius has been anxiously waiting at Grimmauld Place for ages before his girl comes home. ↳ What Do You Want To Be? — in which Sirius’s panic attack takes a sudden but very sweet turn. ↳ Squint And You'll See It — in which Sirius can't imagine why his potions partner won't wear her glasses.

Definitely Don’t Imagine ... (special series) ↳ ... Sirius Admiring from Afar  ↳ ... Sirius’s First Encounter with an Electric Blanket ↳ ... Sirius Getting You out of Class

Tiktok Trends ↳ Lipstick Stains — in which Y/N and Sirius do the trend in which one partner covers the other’s face in lipstick stains. ↳ Favorite Photo — in which Sirius does the trend where he can’t stop staring at his favorite photo of Y/N and himself

Remus Lupin

Imagines coming soon ... requests always opened!

Blurbs ↳ Smuggle-Born — in which James, Sirius, and Peter get the wrong idea about where Remus is going every couple days.

James Potter

Imagines ↳ September — in which James falls in love far too easily.

Blurbs ↳ Cute Kid — in which James Potter falls in love with one of his first graders' mom. (This is a blurb-headcannon-list-story-series thing? idk but it's cute so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) ↳ Parent-Teacher Conferences ↳ Seeing Each Other Around Town ↳ Career Fair ↳ Liam and James Make You A Birthday Gift ↳ James Takes Liam to School ↳ You Get A Visitor in the ER ↳ Kindergarten Graduation

Orestes

Summary: Marlene McKinnon is very very gay ... but her sister isn’t.

Notes: Harry Potter Universe, pre-Azkaban Sirius, imagine.

Sirius sauntered over to Marlene, who was giggling in the corner of the library with Dorcas, and plunked down in a chair right next to her, swinging his arm around her shoulders.

“Hi there, Mar,” he said, smirking at the blonde girl, who only raised her eyebrows.

“Do you need something, Black?” she asked, obviously irritated, and Sirius shrugged.

“Nothing in particular—”

“Great. If that’s all.” Marlene turned back to Dorcas, who had a smug smirk plastered on her lips.

“—but I was wondering,” Sirius continued, “if you wanted to accompany me to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

“Why would I want to do that, Black?” Marlene and Sirius were decent friends, and there was always some sort of playful banter between the two. However, it was obvious to everyone involved that Marlene was very much a lesbian and held no romantic interest for Sirius in the slightest—well, everyone except Sirius himself, apparently.

“Oh please, Marlene. We’ve been flirting for ages. Why not just go on a date with me?” Sirius reasoned with a casual shrug. 

Marlene’s jaw went slightly slack. “Wait.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “You really don’t know?”

“Know what? Do you have a boyfriend?” Sirius abruptly removed his arm from around her shoulders, and Dorcas furiously bit her lip in an attempt to contain a snort of laughter. 

“Sirius,” Marlene’s face showed nothing if not pity, “if I were to ever go on a date with a man, that man would be you. But—and I’m not sure how you didn’t figure this out—I am a raging homosexual and therefore physically cannot like you like that.” Dorcas couldn’t contain it any longer, and a shriek of laughter escaped her lips as her face met the table, her black curls framing her heaving form. 

Sirius, meanwhile, almost passed out from embarrassment. His eyes widened to the size of tea saucers, and his face practically transfigured itself into a tomato as his jaw fell. He almost immediately pulled away from Marlene and sat a respectful distance away, refusing to meet her eyes as he stammered an apology.

“Don’t be sorry, truly,” Marlene said easily. “I can’t believe you didn’t realize it before. I mean, Dorcas and I have been dating for—what, a year and a half, now?” Dorcas seemed to nod through her convulsions, sitting up and taking a deep breath to compose herself. 

“Shit, really?” Sirius felt terrible, now. “I’m so sorry, Doe, I didn’t realize.”

“No, it’s perfectly fine. That just made my day, my week, and almost my month.” Sirius rolled his eyes at her response, saying a quick goodbye in an effort to escape the embarrassment as quickly as possible. He was only a couple of rows of bookshelves away when Marlene called him back, and he groaned internally.

“You know,” she said, a mischievous look in her eye, “I have a sister.”

~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~

“GEORGIA!”

The librarian shushed Marlene aggressively as the girl shouted across the library to Georgia McKinnon, who sighed and looked up from her book, meeting her sister’s gleeful eyes with a glare. 

What? she mouthed, obviously irritated, and Marlene pointed from her sister to the bookshelf next to Dorcas, where a tall figure stood casually.

Georgia had seen Sirius Black around Hogwarts on numerous occasions. She was a bright girl, so she took a lot of advanced classes, quite a few of which she shared with the notorious lady’s-man. She was also quite good friends with Remus Lupin, who happened to be very close with Sirius, and Georgia was Remus’s number-one confidant when it came to his worries about his friends’ safety. She knew about his “furry little problem”, and her presence always seemed to do wonders on Remus’s—and everyone else’s—nerves. 

Georgia made a confused face at Marlene from across the library, who rolled her eyes and beckoned her over. Georgia shook her head, motioning to the book in her hands, and Marlene raised a threatening eyebrow, as if to say “if you don’t come over here, I’ll drag you”. Begrudgingly, Georgia gathered her things and marched over to her sister and Dorcas, who smiled kindly at Georgia.

“Hi Georgie,” she greeted in a whisper. “Sorry she interrupted your book. I couldn’t really stop it.”

“It’s alright, Dee. I know it wasn’t your fault.” She sent a glare at Marlene, who gladly returned it, making Dorcas chuckle. “What did you disrupt my happiness for, anyway?”

“Georgia, this is Sirius Black.” She motioned to the boy that still leant against the bookshelf to the right of Dorcas. “He was asking about you.” Sirius’s eyes widened, and he sent Marlene a bewildered look that she ignored. 

Georgia McKinnon was absolutely stunning, to say the least. Her blonde hair was held out of her face in a gold clip—though it didn’t do a very good job, seeing as there were quite a few curls that fell into her face—and her sharp sage eyes seemed to bore into Sirius’s soul in a way that felt like he was sinking into a sea of honey. When Marlene told her that he was asking about her, he was immediately embarrassed.

“Oh.” Georgia didn’t quite know how to respond. Although she had her fair share of boys who were interested in her, they were never as well-known or good-looking as Sirius was. “Well … nice to officially meet you.” She adjusted her armful of books to rest in the crook of her left elbow as she extended her right hand for him to take. Sirius shook it, maintaining eye contact as if he were in a trance, and Georgia blushed, quickly averting her eyes. “Well, I’d best be off. Professor Sorena asked if I could tutor some third-years over lunch. I’ll see you around, Sirius, Dee. See you later, Miss Medusa.”

“Fuck off, Georgia,” Marlene snapped as the girl strode away, laughing lightly, and Sirius about melted on the spot.

“Awww, look at him.” Dorcas leaned her head on Marlene’s shoulder. “He’s in loooove.” Marlene rolled her eyes, though there was a light smile on her lips.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s go get lunch.”

Three Years Later

Three knocks rang through the McKinnon household, and Marlene bounded from the kitchen to the foyer, opening the front door. 

“Hi there Peter,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows. “What are you doing here this early?” It was barely seven in the morning, and the rest of the McKinnons—plus Dorcas, who was staying the night—were still sound asleep. Peter himself looked terrible, if Marlene was honest. His eyes were sunken, and dark purple bags hung under them, but his eyes were fierce and determined. “Peter, are you alright? You look sick.” 

Marlene surveyed Peter for any injuries—a habit she had grown used to, given the war—and that was when she saw it.

Peter’s long-sleeved shirt—too warm for mid-summer—was rolled up to his elbows, exposing his left forearm, where a dark, slithering tattoo caught Marlene’s eye. 

Immediately, she slammed the door shut, forcing the deadbolt into place and taking a step away from it. She was defenseless, now, having left her wand on the bedside table, and her anxiety grew as Peter placed his fist on the door from the other side.

“Mar, just come out. Come with me. Nothing will happen—I promise.”

Marlene was frozen to the spot, terror consuming her to the point of no return.

“Marlene.” Silence. “Marlene, don’t make me come in there.”

“Mar?” Georgia. “Who’s here?”

The sound of her sister’s voice broke Marlene from her stupor. “Georgie, go back upstairs,” Marlene ordered, her voice hushed.

“What? No, Sirius is taking me to the movies in an hour, and I have to walk to—”

“No, Georgia.” Marlene’s voice was firm, but there was something Georgia had scarcely heard before, too—fear.

“Mar, what’s going on?”

“Georgie, please just go up—”

The door flew off of its hinges with a deafening bang. Marlene just barely ducked, but Georgia wasn’t so lucky. She was hit head-on by the solid mahogany door and in an instant, she crumpled to the ground. Marlene cried out to her sister, but her attention was quickly brought to the man walking through her broken doorway. 

“Mar, you should have listened,” Peter said, the pity in his voice almost fooling her for a second. “Nothing would have happened if you just came with me.”

~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~

Georgia felt the pain before her eyes were even opened. It felt as if her forehead was struck by lightning, leaving a residual shockwave that wouldn’t stop bouncing her brain back and forth in her skull. Immediately, she groaned, and a handful of muffled voices filtered through the headache, worsening it as they grew louder and louder. After a few moments, her head felt as if it were being split in two. Suddenly, a loud voice cut through the rest, which all slowly quieted, and another spoke gently to her.

“Georgie?”

~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~

Lily Potter leaned over her best friend’s younger sister, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t follow Marlene’s path. Sirius had grown worried when Georgia hadn’t shown up at their usual meeting place, eventually making the trek to the McKinnon home. What he found was almost more than he could handle. 

The McKinnons and Dorcas Meadowes were dead—massacred in their own home—and the sole survivor of the attack was the woman laying in the guest bedroom at the Potters’. Everyone was crowded around the bed, hoping that Georgia would survive. The blow she sustained was enough to knock her out and split her forehead open, and by the time Sirius had arrived, there was a startling amount of blood staining the floor, but Lily insisted Georgia would survive—whether for her sake or everyone else’s, Sirius wasn’t sure.

A small groan escaped Georgia’s lips, and the group of friends murmured in excitement. She sounded pained, but at least she was alive. 

“Everyone quiet,” Lily hissed, ushering the group out of the door, but Sirius stayed by Georgia, and Lily let him. 

“Georgie?” Sirius’s voice was as soft as he could manage, and he couldn’t think of a time where he was more glad to see Georgia’s pale green eyes than when her eyelashes fluttered apart and she squinted around the room.

“Where am I?” she asked, her voice hoarse as a hand came up to touch the gauze wrapped around her head. 

“You’re at James’s, darling,” Sirius reassured, holding her free hand and kissing her knuckles as she looked at him.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Sirius’s bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks were obvious, and it ignited a spark of worry in Georgia’s stomach.

Sirius laughed tearfully. “Yes, m’love, I’m fine.” 

His face didn’t match his words.

“Where’s Mar?”

The dreaded question had come sooner than Sirius had hoped. 

Lily quietly excused herself as Sirius sat next to Georgia’s head in the king bed, legs crossed. He stroked her hair gently as her light green eyes peered up at him with such curiosity. His breath caught in his throat. He knew the news he bore would break Georgia’s heart, and if it were up to him, he would never tell her just to keep her as she was just then; innocent and content, even in the middle of a war. 

The pit of worry in Georgia’s stomach only grew as Sirius looked at her, examining every inch of her face as if it were the last time he would see her like that. She knew before he even said what had happened. Her mind couldn’t remember what had occurred, but the tug in her heart told her even before she had opened her eyes that something was wrong.

“Sirius,” Georgia whispered, eyes filling with sorrow as she spoke. Sirius almost wanted to cry out—to tell the unworried look in her eyes to come back, because he could never get enough of it. “Sirius, tell me.”

Georgia felt the spark in her heart fizzle. 

Her ribcage felt hollow as Sirius bit his lip, restraining his own tears for her sake, and a strangled sob left her lips.

“Please, Sirius, please.”

This wasn’t an option.

Marlene had been a part of Georgia’s life from the start. She was a teasing, ever-loving constant in Georgia’s world. She’d never left before. She would never leave.

This couldn’t be an option.

“I’m sorry, Geor—”

“NO!”

Georgia scrambled up, almost passing out as her headache tripled and the world tilted sharply. Sirius wrapped his arms around her waist before she could even get off of the bed, pulling her into his lap, and Georgia let out a dry sob, pounding her weak fists against his chest.

“Georgia, she—”

“NO, NO! STOP!”

“Georgia, she’s gone!”

“NO!”

~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~

James, Remus, Lily, Alice, and Frank listened in silence as Georgia screamed for her sister, some with hands over their mouths and others with eyes closed, barely holding back tears. No one knew what to do other than wait. Marlene was friends with everyone, and it was only a twist of the knife to hear Georgia in such pain after her sister’s death. She was always the shoulder for anyone to cry on, no matter the circumstances, and all that anyone could think to do was to provide the same service for her now.

But somehow, it didn’t seem nearly enough.

~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~

Lily didn’t let Georgia out of bed for several weeks, and another week and four days passed until she allowed Sirius to take her home with him. Georgia was obviously in mourning, though no one except Sirius ever saw the full extent of her grief. After the first day, she seemed terribly anguished, but she never cried in front of anyone, only allowing the agony to consume her when she was curled in Sirius’s chest at night. 

Sirius was tasked with packing Georgia’s things and bringing them from the now-empty McKinnon house to his flat in London. He returned with glassy eyes and a trunk full of clothes, toiletries, and a mess of photos, gathering Georgia from the Potters’ and apparating to his flat in Isle of Dogs. 

It was late when the young couple arrived at Sirius’s humble apartment, and he led Georgia up two flights of stairs without much event. He fumbled with the keys for a moment before finally unlocking the door and holding it open for Georgia, who stepped in with her luggage. 

Sirius’s flat was one of Georgie’s favorite places. It was cozy and always smelled like Sirius; spearmint gum and the aftershave he used. She left her trunk in Sirius’s room, not bothering to unpack before she walked back into the living room and curled up on the couch. Sirius placed an order for pizza before joining her. He pulled Georgia into his lap, his arms resting naturally around her waist as her head found its usual place in his neck. 

The two sat like that in silence for a while, not bothering to speak until the buzzer rang and the delivery man arrived with one large cheese pizza. They ate over the sink like the twenty-somethings they were, watching the boats float by on the River Thames until they were full. Sirius wrapped his arms around Georgia’s waist as she nibbled the pizza down to the crust, resting his chin on the crown of her head as the two swayed slightly, and still, no words were spoken. 

Suddenly, Sirius swept Georgia up in his arms, making her squeal a little. He smiled. It was the most joyful sound she had made in a while. He carried her into the bedroom and set her down on their bed before looking at the bookshelf in the corner. Quickly, he flicked through his small collection of records before finding the one he wanted and putting it on the record player. The vinyl scratched slightly before Fleetwood Mac’s “Rhiannon” played softly through the room. 

Sirius pulled Georgia up, holding her close to his chest as he swayed to the beat, and Georgia met his eyes with the closest thing to happiness he had seen in almost two weeks. The two silently danced through their bedroom, Georgia eventually resorting to standing on Sirius’s feet as he moved since he wouldn’t stop stepping on her toes. The song ended with a small scratch, and Sirius brought a hand up to Georgia’s cheek. He kissed the tip of her nose.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered.

“It’s rotten work,” Georgia said back.

Sirius shook his head. “No,” he whispered, watching her eyes very closely. “Not for me. Not if it's you.”

~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~

Sirius—

In the unfortunate event that I die, this letter is to be delivered to you via Dorcas. If she’s dead, then I don’t know how this is going to get to you, so I may be wasting my time, which is an annoying thought, but oh well. 

Anyway, I shall make my point perfectly clear. Here it is: 

TAKE CARE OF GEORGIA.

I don’t care if she’s a pain in my ass. She’s my sister, and to fulfill my dying wish, you WILL take care of her. Understood? Good. 

Thanks,

M.M.

P.S. I’m totally haunting you in the afterlife.

P.P.S. Actually, I don’t want to witness you knocking up my sister, so never mind.

Attention to Detail

Summary: Sirius is desperate to learn to tell when Lola is uncomfortable, especially after he figures it out the hard way.

Notes: Harry Potter Universe, pre-Azkaban Sirius, imagine, bad summary hehe...

“Why hello there, Miss Da Silva.” Lola winced. “Interested in making some magic together? My wand is at the ready.” 

Sirius Black leaned against the side of Lola’s chair, smirking down at her as she tried to ignore him and complete her schoolwork.

“Sirius, leave the poor girl alone,” said Remus from a sofa closer to the fireplace. “Let her do her work.”

“Oh please, Moony, you can’t ask me to do that,” Sirius complained. “She’s just too gorgeous not to flirt with!”

“Please just leave me alone, Black,” said Lola, cringing at how timid she sounded. “I’ve got a page and a half on werewolves due tomorrow.”

“Well, I can help you with that, buttercup,” said Sirius, sitting on the arm of Lola’s chair and peering into her lap, where a textbook lay. 

“Oh no, it’s alright. I don’t need help,” said Lola with an anxious smile. “Truly, I’m fine.”

“Pads, seriously—leave her be,” said Remus with a pointed look at his friend. Sirius rolled his eyes and trudged out of the common room, obviously disgruntled, leaving Lola to her work.

“Sorry about him,” said Remus, offering an apologetic smile.

“It’s alright,” said Lola with a shrug. “Happens all the time.”

“Do other guys bother you?” said Remus, slightly concerned, but Lola quickly shook her head.

“No! No, not really. Just him.”

Remus frowned. This had been going on for three months, now; Sirius “I-Flirt-With-Everything-That-Breathes” Black pined after Lola “Number-One- Bookworm” Da Silva, who shied away from every one of his advances. It was obvious to him that Sirius took Lola more seriously than the dozens of other girls he had dated—he would have given up ages ago if he didn’t—but to Remus, Lola was still a mystery. 

“Good afternoon, sugar,” said Sirius, leaning against the bookshelf across from where Lola sat in the library. “Y’know, I’m not wearing an invisibility cloak, but…do you think I could still visit your restricted section tonight?”

“Please, just—leave me alone, Black,” said Lola, barely meeting the grey eyes that watched her closely as a red-hot flooded down her ears and up her neck.

“Oh come on, gorgeous. Just one date—or night. Whichever you prefer—”

“Sirius!” came Remus’s hushed scolding, and Sirius rolled his eyes. 

“What, Moony?” he snapped.

“We are in a library. Couldn’t your flirting wait a few fucking hours?” said Remus, obviously agitated. 

“That time of the month for you, Moony?” said Sirius patronizingly, and Remus growled under his breath. 

“Really, though, Lola.” Sirius sat across her, pulling her book away so she had no choice but to look at him. “I ought to complain to those Muggle radio stations you and Evans listen to because they didn’t name you this week’s hottest single.”

Lola blushed even more (she hadn’t realized it was possible, but here she was) and averted her eyes with a huff. Of course, she was quite flattered that she had somehow managed to attract the attentions Sirius Black of all people, but at times, he made her very uncomfortable. She wasn’t used anyone paying her any mind, much less the infamous womanizer of Hogwarts.

“I’m begging you, Black. Please let me do my work.” Lola looked desperately at Remus, whose eyebrows furrowed.

“Really, mate,” said Remus. “Lay off her.”

Sirius looked from Lola to Remus and back. For the first time that Sirius could remember, Lola looked him in the eyes, and he immediately felt embarrassed and terribly stupid. 

Lola seemed sincerely uncomfortable.

It was never Sirius’s intention to make Lola at all upset — or anyone, for that matter. He may have been a bit of a lady’s man, but Sirius was a perpetual gentleman, always asking for permission before doing anything with anyone. He knew what it was like to have no control, and he would never in a million years purposefully make anyone feel that way. 

“O-oh...okay,” stammered Sirius. “Sorry. Sorry, I’ll…I’ll just….” He motioned to the library entrance, glanced once more at Lola’s tense form, and left. 

Remus furrowed his brow. Never in the six years he had known Sirius had he been so nervous around a girl as he had just then. It was evident that Lola was slightly ill at ease from Sirius’s flirtations, but, though others had rejected him before, he had never seemed this worried.

“Remus?” said Lola, and he looked at the small girl several chairs down from him. “Could you…could you tell him I’m sorry? I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings—”

“Lola,” Remus quickly interrupted, “you have no need to apologize. It should be Sirius apologizing for making you uncomfortable.”

Lola simply nodded, giving Remus an anxious smile before gathering her things and leaving the library.

~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~   ~~~

It had been two weeks. 

Remus watched as Sirius kept his distance from Lola. He tried distracting himself with other girls, though he very quickly realized it wasn’t working and stopped sleeping around altogether. Sirius had instead taken up watching over Lola from afar; he made sure she was given earmuffs in Herbology, charmed her Potions cauldron to keep from overflowing, and occasionally hexed the more…persistent suitors that deemed themselves worthy of her. (He always disagreed with their evaluation, much to Remus’s lack of surprise).

Remus also watched as Lola’s popularity amongst the male populous (and lesbian...and bisexual...and pansexual...and...well, everyone, really) of Hogwarts grew. Sirius’s attention seemed to have drawn everyone else’s, even after the two stopped talking—so much so to the point where Lola could barely go a day without an exceptionally bold Hufflepuff chaser or timid Ravenclaw with bubblegum-pink hair asking her to Hogsmeade. 

Though if she was honest with herself, Lola almost missed Sirius’s teasing and pick-up lines. Sure, he was crude, but it was evident that his words came from somewhere sincere—

Or maybe they didn't.

This was the thought that plagued Lola’s mind as she went about the two weeks following her encounter with Sirius in the library. Sirius had a reputation—that much was very well known—so was that all this was? A ruse to keep his reputation? Had he wanted to sleep with the school’s nerd just to add her to his ever-growing list of “conquests”?

Lola shook her head; it was a feeble attempt to physically rid herself of the thoughts of Sirius. She removed her glasses, cleaned them with her sleeve, and replaced them before continuing to revise for her Charms test at the end of the week. But of course, there’s no rest for the wicked.

“Ahem.” A light, awkward cough made Lola’s face fall, and she peered over her textbook at the boy that leaned against a bookshelf, as he had done two weeks prior. He wore Muggle clothes now—a leather jacket and skinny jeans—but he seemed terribly nervous. “A—er...hi Lola,” said Sirius, scratching the back of his neck. “If...if you were a dementor, I’d become a criminal just so you would kiss me.”

Lola blushed profusely.

“Erm...have a good day, Lola.”

And with that, he turned and left. 

This became Sirius and Lola’s new routine: Sirius would find Lola somewhere (usually the library), tell her a sweet pick-up line (she much preferred the wholesome ones to the lewd ones), and either leave or sit quietly and study with her (surprisingly enough, it was usually the latter).

At this point, Sirius was well aware of his feelings for Lola. It was hard to ignore his instant worry for her comfort when he talked to her or the pounding of his heart when she was near, and after barely a week of fighting his feelings, Sirius gave up. 

With Sirius’s presence around Lola, however, her suitors began to lose their courage. The number of people that approached her declined, and Lola slowly went back to her comfortable daily ritual of blending in with the students of Hogwarts, unnoticed. 

It became Sirius’s favorite pastime to daydream about her; the way her fingers would feel running through his hair…her soft skin under his fingers…how her full lips would feel against his…. 

But with time, Sirius’s fantasies became lewd, and before long, he could scarcely look at her without feeling an insatiable desire to pin her against a wall and snog her into oblivion. Of course, he had quite a bit of self-control and, let’s be honest, human decency, which was more than enough to keep the nagging want imprisoned in the back of his mind.

It was a cold evening in the library when Sirius spotted two Slytherin boys snickering in a far corner. They seemed to point at Lola, then return to their whispering with ugly smirks. It put Sirius on edge, but he knew he couldn’t do anything about it. Lola hadn’t even seen them, so they weren’t bothering her. 

But when they came and sat on either side of her, Sirius barely kept from snapping his quill in half. 

“Hey, Da Silva,” said one—a brutish boy with crooked teeth. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Er—schoolwork,” said Lola, looking nervously from one boy to the other. “Can I help you?”

“Sure you can, babygirl,” said the other—a tall, lanky lad who, troublingly enough, was relatively attractive. He rested his arm around the back of Lola’s chair, and she sat forward slightly in an effort to get away from it. “Why don’t we get out of here and have some fun, yeah?”

Lola’s eyes widened, and she sent a pleading look towards Sirius. 

“Erm, I-I’m fine, thanks,” she said meekly. The lanky boy’s smirk turned to a sneer, and he had a maliciousness behind his eyes that Sirius didn’t like. 

Quickly, Sirius packed his bag, practically ran around the table, snatched up Lola’s things, grabbed her hand, and dragged her out of the library. Lola followed in silence as Sirius’s pace didn’t slow, keeping her small fingers as tightly wrapped around his big ones as his were around hers. 

Sirius wasn’t sure where he was going, but he knew he couldn’t have sat and watched as those two gits made Lola uncomfortable. He walked aimlessly with Lola’s hand in his until he found himself in an abandoned corridor with no idea where he actually was. Coming to his senses, he released her hand and backed away slightly.

“I-I’m sorr—” he began—

“N-no, it’s perfectly fine, truely!—” interrupted Lola.

“I shouldn’t have—”

“I appreciate it—”

“You do?” said Sirius finally, and Lola nodded with a small but genuine smile. 

“Yeah,” she said softly. “They’ve been…they’ve been bothering me in the halls and it’s gotten to be a bit much.”

“For Merlin’s sake,” muttered Sirius. How hadn’t he noticed? “I’m sorry, Lola.”

“No, it’s alright,” she quickly reassured.

“No it’s not! I was the one that made you uncomfortable that day in the library, and now no one leaves you alone because of it!—”

“Sirius.” Lola took a step towards him, bathing in the light of the sunset that fell through the window. Sirius’s breath caught in his throat as Lola held his hand. “It’s fine. Really. You didn’t mean to, and when you realized what you did, you stopped. That’s more than I can say for most guys at this school.” She chuckled slightly, looking out of the window.

Sirius always liked brown eyes. Sure, they looked regular from day to day…but on those rare occasions when someone with brown eyes stepped into golden light…their eyes glowed.

Lola’s eyes were the darkest brown Sirius had ever seen, but just then, in the light of the autumn sunset, Sirius felt like he was sinking in an infinite pot of honey, falling further and further towards the endless bottom. 

And it was the most wonderful sensation he had ever experienced. 

“I might as well be under the Imperius Curse,” said Sirius, unable to remove his eyes from Lola’s as she looked at him with those wide caramel irises, “because I’d do absolutely anything for you.”

Lola laughed lightly and looked down in an attempt to hide her blush, but Sirius had other ideas. He gently hooked his finger under Lola’s chin and brought her face back up to look at him.

“Really, Lola,” said Sirius. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you uncomfortable. You…you’re just…you’re a wonderful person, and I really quite like you.”

“You do?” said Lola, tawny eyes widening, and Sirius nodded slightly.

“I-I know my reputation isn’t the best, but—if you want—we could maybe go to Hogsmeade together sometime?”

Lola froze for a moment. Of course, she really liked Sirius, too, but she couldn’t believe that he was asking her, of all people, to Hogsmeade.

“Me?” she questioned after a moment of silence. “You’re asking me?”

“Of course I am,” said Sirius with a slightly awkward smile, dropping the hand under her chin. “Who else would I want to go with?”

“I-I mean, I just—I don’t know—you don’t seem the type to go for someone like me,” said Lola. 

“Why not? You’re amazing,” said Sirius, pulling an indignant face.

“Well, I don’t know…you’re just…you’re too cool for me—”

“You’re cool.”

“—and I’m a complete bookworm! Your fanclub would have my head!”

“They wouldn’t.”

“They absolutely would! I don’t understand why you’re so interested in—”

Sirius couldn’t bear it anymore. 

He leaned forward slightly and pressed his chapped  lips against Lola’s soft ones before realizing what he had done and jerking away. The two stood in silence, staring with wide eyes as they realized what Sirius had done. Lola brought a hand to her lips, the tingling sensation that now resided there fading slightly.

“Fuck, Lola, I’m sorry.” Sirius stumbled back, taking his hand from Lola and running it anxiously through his hair. “I’m sorry, Lola, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I promise. I—argh! I just—you were rambling and-and your eyes and—”

Lola stepped right in front of Sirius and in the blink of an eye, she was an inch from his lips.

“L-Lola, what are you doing?” said Sirius with a gulp, looking down at Lola as she held the lapels of his robes.

“Lean down, you nitwit,” she said. “You’re too tall.”

The Rebel Black Boy

Summary: Neither Sirius nor Freya want to be here, but at the very least, they can find solace in one dance together.

Notes: Harry Potter Universe, pre-Azkaban Sirius, blurb

Sirius took Freya’s hand and led her gracefully across the ballroom of Lestrange Manor. Mechanically, he secured her in his grip as the small string orchestra began again.

“How’ve you been, Fawley?” he asked in her ear, and Farah smiled at the sound of his voice.

“Alright,” she breathed out with some difficulty. “You?”

“Good, good.”

The two swept across the ballroom floor, parting the throngs of other couples like the Red Sea. There wasn’t a soul that couldn’t appreciate their grace, and no one dared interrupt such beauty as the two waltzed.

“Your corset is too tight.”

Sirius tapped Freya’s back gently, making a dull thump sound against the whalebone inside, then lifted her before continuing.

“Yes, well.” Freya sighed. “There’s nothing I can do now.”

“I could always loosen it for you,” offered Sirius. 

Freya smirked. “Merlin—what would my mother say if she caught the rebel Black boy undoing her prized daughter’s corset in a side-corridor?” she teased. Sirius rolled his eyes, a blush creeping up his neck despite himself.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he mumbled, spinning Freya before dipping her one last time as the piece ended. 

“I know, Black,” Freya said, standing up straight again. “I appreciate the offer, but my mother would kill me.” There was a dark flash of pain in Freya’s eyes before they went back to their regular golden-brown. “Thank you for the dance, Black. I’ll see you around.”

Freya pressed a kiss to Sirius’s cheek before striding gracefully to the ballroom’s perimeter, leaving the rebel Black brother blushing like a schoolgirl.

Screaming Portraits

Summary: Sirius has been anxiously waiting at Grimmauld Place for ages before his girl comes home.

Notes: Harry Potter Universe, pre- or post-Azkaban Sirius Black, blurb

“Sirius?” said Samantha, stepping out of the fireplace of 12 Grimmauld Place and dusting herself off. 

“Sam?” came Sirius’s voice from the second floor, followed quickly by a thundering of footsteps that stopped halfway down the stairs. “You’re back!”

Samantha Makeba practically flew up the other half of the stairs to meet Sirius, who spun her around as giggles of glee spilled from her lips. 

“Merlin, you’ve no idea how glad I am to see you,” said Sirius, setting Sam down on the landing and brushing her black coils from her face. 

“Oh, I think I have an inkling,” whispered Samantha against Sirius’s lips. She pushed herself onto her tiptoes, her lips just brushing Sirius’s—

“A MUDBLOOD! THE DISGRACE HAS TARNISHED THE BLACK REPUTATION FURTHER! I DIDN’T THINK IT POSSIBLE!” came the screech of Walburga Black—or rather, her portrait, which hung over a chest of drawers directly behind Samantha. Sirius and Sam jumped in surprise, having forgotten the awful painting’s existence in their rare moment of joy, and Sirius glared up at the wall behind Sam.

“SHUT IT, MOTHER!” he shouted, but the woman continued her ranting.

“A MUDBLOOD IN MY HOUSE—!”

“STOP SAYING THAT WORD—!”

“I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! A MUDBLOOD—!”

“STOP CALLING HER THAT—!”

“MY OWN FLESH AND BLOOD! FRATERNIZING WITH SUCH A FOUL CREATURE—!”

Sirius was overcome with white-hot rage. Samantha had seen him like this only a handful of times; once when he had lost the final Quidditch match against Slytherin in their third year, once when she was staying at James’s house and he had shown up at the door in the middle of the night, and once when Lucius Malfoy had called her something foul that Sirius refused to repeat to her afterwards as she was cleaning his knuckles of the blood that wasn’t his. 

But before she could do anything about it, Sirius had picked the short girl up by the waist, set her on the chest of drawers in front of the portrait, and pushed his lips into hers. Sam went with it, slightly surprised but quite happy to be this close to Sirius again. She had been on a mission for the Order for three weeks—an abnormally long time for a mission, if she was honest—and it was the longest she and Sirius had gone without seeing each other since they had met in their first year. 

Sirius’s hands shamelessly flew over Sam’s dark skin, creeping under her shirt and pressing into her back, bringing her chest flush against his as the kiss became fervent and desperate. Walburga’s hysterics had increased tenfold, but at this point, neither Sirius nor Samantha noticed it. They were drowning in each other, and as Samantha wrapped her legs around Sirius’s waist and he brought her to his room, they both knew: there was no place they’d rather be than in the other’s arms.

So much to do! So little time!