Attention To Detail

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.”

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

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So much to do! So little time!

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.

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!

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 …