"𝒞ℴ𝓂ℯ 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 ℳ𝒶𝓎" － 𝒜𝒶𝓇ℴ𝓃 𝒯𝓋ℯ𝒾𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒦𝒶𝓇ℯ𝓃 𝒪𝓁𝒾𝓋ℴ

January 28th, 1977

Sirius Black ran a hand through his dark silky hair as he walked next to his girlfriend, lacing their fingers together with his other hand.

He was silent, thinking as they strode through the halls of Hogwarts together.

Maybe brooding was a better word.

"...Isn't your brother a fourth year?" Nikki asked slowly, hesitant to prod Sirius too much lest he clam up.

He looked down at her, dark grey eyes clouding over with hidden emotion that he tried so hard to repress. He got practice with forcing his emotional responses down into the back parts of his mind at 12 Grimmauld Place.

It was a necessity to make it out of that hellhole without a mental breakdown.

"Yes... why?"

Nikki tilted her chin forwards to said fourth year Slytherin deep in conversation with a blonde Ravenclaw that the ginger was ninety percent certain was also a fourth year.

"I thought inter-house study groups only arose during OWL year."

Sirius pursed his lips, studying his younger brother. "Maybe he's getting a head start? Hell, ever since he was born he has always had a yearning to be better."

"I started talking at eight months old," he said quietly. "Baby Reg needed to surpass even my baby milestones — said his first word at six months."

Nikki squeezed his hand. "At least he seems to have a friend that's not..."

She trailed off, hesitant to continue her line of thought.

"You can say it," Sirius replied dully as he turned down a corridor, tugging lightly at her hand. "A friend that's not Mulciber or Snivellus or... I don't even bloody want to know."

He swallowed the lump that had been gradually growing in his throat.

Sirius shook his head like a dog shaking off his drenched fur after a bath. "Moving on from the deep vault of Black family trauma," he joked, brushing his worries about his baby brother under layers of dark humor and feigned indifference as he took her other hand in his. "Would you, my lovely Coley, do me the honor of accompanying me to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

They both hoped that it would go better than the last Hogsmeade trip.

December 18th, 1976

Sirius Black wove his way through the crowd inside the Three Broomsticks, holding two tankards of foaming butterbeer aloft over his head as he worked his way over to the booth Nikki had claimed for them.

"Bloody hell," he swore as he dropped into the seat across from her, sliding her drink across the wooden table to her, "it's getting more and more crowded every second."

Nikki cracked a small smile, grasping the hot drink with both of her hands and letting the heat warm her near-frozen fingers. "Not all of us have built-in insulation from the cold, Sirius."

Sirius flashed her a roguish smirk and a wink. "Not all of us are goody two-shoes."

She took a sip from her drink, fighting the grin that pulled at the corners of her mouth. "I haven't gone to the Ministry about your... badly behaved dog yet."

"Aw," he dragged out the sound, "that would spoil the fun. And Mother's not that idiotic where she wouldn't understand where the dog fur on her green velvet chaise lounge came from."

Sirius put on a posh, aristocratic accent to the words 'green velvet chaise lounge.'

He leaned over the table conspiratorially. "It's a shit lounger anyway. I think it's the incest."

Nikki snorted into her butterbeer, laughing at the blunt undertone Sirius used. "Pureblooded inbreeding, the cause of all of the wizarding world's problems. Especially when it comes to lounges."

He lifted the mug high as if it were a toast.

"Hear hear!"

Sirius lowered the tankard back down, taking a deep pull of the foaming, hot butterbeer. Setting the mug on the table, he cocked his head to the side, a lazy grin stretching across his face.

"You have something-" he whispered innocently, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Instead of using his thumb to brush the whipped cream off of her lip, he brought his hand under her chin, tilting it up with his index finger and pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

They moved in unison, gliding across each other's mouths as smooth as satin.

He pulled back slightly, a cocky eyebrow raised. "Huh, that's weird... guess it was a trick of the light — no whipped cream to be found."

Nikki's pale fingers wrapped around the end of his Gryffindor scarf that James had gotten him the Christmas prior. "You're insufferable," she breathed out, tugging on the scarf and kissing him firmly.

With Nikki, Sirius could finally breathe, free from the suffocating pressures put on him from himself and the arseholes he used to call family members. He didn't have to be the Black Heir, he didn't have to protect his baby brother from their own bloody parents.

With Nicole Granger, he could just be.

BANG.

Sirius and Nikki jolted out of their kiss at the explosion, Nikki whirling around to face the door of the pub.

Their wands were out of their pockets almost in the same motion.

"Bugger," Sirius cursed darkly, grey eyes hardening as he craned his neck for a better view of what was going on.

He stood up from his seat, hand reaching out and absentmindedly tucking a strand of Nikki's ginger hair behind her ear even as he rolled his shoulders out.

"Stay here, okay?" He warned, "This could get messy. I don't want you getting hurt."

Planting a soft kiss to the top of her head, the smell of coconut intoxicating, Sirius jogged out of the Three Broomsticks, wand gripped tightly in his hand.

"Sirius-" Nikki started, the door swinging closed and cutting her off. "Bloody hell."

She didn't do well with sitting still. The seconds stretched by, itching at her as if a scratch that she just couldn't reach.

"Fuck it," she mumbled under her breath, striding towards the entrance of the pub and yanking it open.

Spells flew everywhere she looked. It was chaos.

The First Wizarding War had become personal for the Hogwarts students. It was the closest Voldemort and his Death Eaters could get to Hogwarts without stepping over its boundaries.

But Hogsmeade, the town where thirteen through eighteen year old students could have their first awkward first dates, their first taste of wizarding candy, their first sip of butterbeer or firewhiskey?

That was an attack on wizarding culture, the second initiation of Muggleborns into the magical world that was surpassed by none other than Diagon Alley.

This was war.

And Nicole Muriel Weasley was not going to go down without a fight.

Sirius Black, from his position pressed against the wall of Zonko's, could identify two of his unfortunate family members even under the shapeless, haunting black satin robes as dark as obsidian.

Bellatrix. Rodolphus.

He swore under his breath, ducking under a fiery gold spell that — he actually didn't want to know what it would have done to him.

Sirius paused, wrinkling his nose at the mental image that had flooded into his head of Voldemort sitting in a rocking chair as he personally sewed the Death Eater robes. What the hell was wrong with his subconsciousness?

Flaring his nostrils, Sirius suppressed a shudder at the metallic tang of blood and ash that flooded his senses.

Bellatrix, ever since he was born, had always had a passion for fire. Ash and smoke constantly clung to her scent, draping her kinky dark curls and hooded grey eyes in a dusty coat.

And it only got worse since the transformation.

He narrowed his eyes. The lines had been drawn in the metaphorical sand. Or, literally, the cobblestone pathway through Hogsmeade.

Bellatrix Lestrange was going down.

"Protego!" A blonde Ravenclaw shouted, hand shaking ever-so-slightly as she faced off against Bellatrix.

"Anaticula," Sirius muttered under his breath, flicking his wand at his former cousin. He was disowned; ergo she's not his cousin anymore.

Stepping out from his cover, he raised his hands up in a shrugging motion, an innocent expression on his face. "Oi, Bella, fuck off and leave Blondie alone!"

Out of the corner of his mouth, he murmured to the Ravenclaw, "no offense, Blondie, I just don't actually know your name."

"Mary McCarthy," she introduced herself rapidly, bright blue eyes scanning the road for more enemies they had to fight off.

"Ah," Sirius uttered simply. "Don't bother worrying what Bellatrix thinks-"

He ducked under a purple jet of light he saw coming from out of the corner of his right eye. "Her head's so far up Voldemort's arse that he'll regain hair."

His grey eyes flashed with mischief, winking at the younger girl. "Now go, I'll handle this. We've been dueling for chocolates since we were young children."

Mary gave a tiny smile and a nod, a silent thank you, as she dashed off to help a fifth year Hufflepuff against another Death Eater.

"So being a chocoholic runs in the family, then?" Nikki posed cheerfully as she hexed a Death Eater in the middle of a duel with another Hogwarts student. "Are we starting off the meeting the family parade on a not completely shitty note or...?"

Sirius cleared his throat, putting up a strong shield charm to buy them a small amount of time.

"What are you doing here?" He whispered rapidly, flicking his eyes from Nikki to Bellatrix — who was firing curses at the bright silver dome in front of them — and back to his girlfriend. "You shouldn't be here!"

Nikki shrugged, a small, nonchalant motion. "Because I can defend myself."

Her wand darted out, a near-transparent spell blossoming from the tip and shooting out towards a Death Eater behind Sirius.

"Exhibit A," she snarked.

"Be careful," he sighed, just loud enough that Nikki could hear him. "I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt."

The shield broke.

Nikki and Sirius spun on their heels towards Bellatrix, casting identical teeth-growing spells at the older woman.

Sirius gave Nikki a small smile, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her close. His lips brushed the top of her head in a feather-light kiss.

"You're such a hidden romantic," Nikki teased, voice slightly muffled from where she was resting her head against his chest.

He rolled his eyes affectionately. "Just because I nearly had a heart attack when you popped up in the middle of a Death Eater attack to duel bloody Bellatrix?"

Nikki snorted. "I thought you dueled for chocolates as children."

"The Black Family Christmas Party — denoted in capital letters, mind you," Sirius drawled, eyebrows knitting together in slight frustration.

Why couldn't he forget? Why couldn't he distance himself from the childhood he lived as a Black?

His lips curved into a slow grin, an idea hitting him.

"You know," he posed casually, head cocking to the side as he looked down at Nikki, "nobody comes into this corridor often. And we don't have anywhere to be..."

His voice trailed off as he dropped his bag unceremoniously, hooking his finger under the strap of Nikki's satchel and sliding it off her shoulder.

Sirius stepped forwards, hand coming up to rest on the stone wall above Nikki's head, leaning on his arm as he smiled innocently.

Her breath hitched, back pressed against the stone wall. "...I'm going to throw you under the Knight Bus if we get caught."

He hummed in acknowledgment as he dipped his head, kissing her firmly even as he wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her closer until she was flush against him.

Everything around them narrowed until the only thing Nikki could focus on was Sirius. His mouth, the feeling of his crisply ironed school shirt against her fingertips, his fingers raking through her ginger locks.

Sirius brought his hand down from her hair, fingers moving to her waist and tugging upwards on her white button-down school uniform shirt, untucking it from her skirt that was just long enough to pass uniform regulations. In the same motion, his mouth dropped from hers down to the side of her throat.

Nicole Weasley liked to bend the rules, push them to see how far they would yield without breaking. She never went beyond the line, always toeing it and staying out of trouble.

Nikki was a perfectionist, even in the art of getting into mischief and backtracking her way out of trouble.

Her lips parted, forming a small 'o' as Sirius' thumb brushed against the sliver of exposed skin on her hip from where her uniform shirt rode up from her skirt. He smirked, lips pressed against the hollow of her throat as she shivered, as he began to circle his thumb gently on her hipbone.

     "Goddess," he said, voice a ragged murmur as his lips brushed against her collarbone.

     "Oi Dumbledore's looking for — OH MERLIN MY POOR, POOR EYES!" James screeched, slapping his hand over aforementioned eyes. "I SEE THE LIGHT!"

     Sirius groaned as he stepped back from Nikki, dragging the palm of his hand down his face. "I haven't done anything, why's Dumbledore looking for me?"

     Nikki snorted softly as she straightened her shirt, tucking it back into her skirt even as she replied, "You're Sirius Black; people get nervous if you're too quiet."

     James peeked out from between his fingers. "He's looking for Nikki, not you, Pads. Told me to find her in a timely manner."

     He stressed the word in a not at all subtle manner, staring insistently at her with all the subtlety of a troll standing on top of the Gryffindor table, dressed in drag and dancing the hula.

     Nikki froze.

     It was time for her to return to... well, her own time.

     Why did she want to stay?

     The answer was standing right in front of her: Sirius Orion Black the Third was the reason she wanted to stay.

     But she couldn't.

     "I'll see you later, yeah?" Sirius said softly. "Remember, denial works wonders."

     Lying to him hurt. It was an itch against her very soul, a dark pit settling at the bottom of her stomach. But it had to be done.

     "See you later."

     He kissed her softly and left the hallway they had snuck into, whistling a soft Muggle tune under his breath.

July 28th, 1993

     Sirius Black had no idea that this moment would be the last time he saw his girlfriend for sixteen years, five months, four weeks, and zero days.

If he had known, he wouldn't have left her side for even a moment.

He was meticulous in his counting. There was nothing he could do other than sit in his dark, rotting cell in Azkaban, spanning only eight steps.

Well, other than get all the happiest memories in his life sucked out of him by the Dementors.

They smelled like death. Rot. Rank.

The Dementors starved near his cell. He didn't have nearly as many happy memories as the other inmates, all tainted by the images of people he had lost.

His parents' love and affection — well, what passed as affection in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black?

Gryffindor. Disgrace. "Crucio." Pain. Blood runs thicker than water. "Get out."

Bloody fucking check next to that box.

His baby brother?

Eighteen. "Are you Mr. Sirius Orion Black?" "Your younger brother, Regulus Arcturus Black, was reported dead last night." Gravestone. Gone. His petite étoile.

James and Lily?

Death. Voldemort-Peter-Harry-no not Prongs-Lils.

Peter? Remus?

Fucking rat. Not forgiven. Lost. Moon. Used to be friends.

The moon was a waxing gibbous, apparently. At least according to his tattoo — his fourth. The lilies from his second tattoo covered the antlers, which stood over the moon in a form of protection as the dog beneath bayed throughout the moon cycle. The rat curled on the dog's head.

His first and third tattoos were inspired by Lily Evans. The stars etched delicately onto his skin — tracing a path down the left side of his rib cage — in crisp black ink in the form of the Leo constellation.

His baby brother's star was the biggest of all.

Nikki?

Astronomy Tower. Gone. Dead? Not dead? "Did you smell your lost girlfriend in your potion? You'd better keep a store close because the chances don't look too good."

Sirius was smug, even though he knew it was depressing to be smug about this.

Fuck Jerry the Dementor. The prick could starve, for all he cared.

Sirius Orion Black mentally ticked off another tally mark, marking yet another day. He shifted seamlessly into a big, black dog, curling himself into a ball of dark fur as he draped his tail over his eyes and snout.

He had no distractions anymore. He had to be trapped in this hellhole with only the screams of other inmates — oooh Bella did not sound happy there; good for Jerry! — and his own chaotic, black hole mess of a mind for company.

Padfoot was his solace, the life raft he clung to in the midst of the deep, dark ocean of regret. He bobbed helplessly through the thick stench of guilt and despair, burying himself as close to his own body as he could.

Word Count: 2,871