Black Lace

by chinochan-inulover

You were a coward for far too long Marlene McKinnon. And people say he is the one afraid of commitment. Make amends, will you?

Black lace

Sum: You were a coward for far too long Marlene McKinnon. And people say he is the one afraid of commitment. Make amends, will you?

Author: Chino-chan inulover

It was night when you entered the dormitory where you shouldn't be. But you find him there, a cigarette hanging gingerly in his lips, the ash growing and smoke surrounding him and his eyes languidly half closed as he sat in the sill in the red and gold jersey of the Quidditch uniform and the tight black pants hanging in his waist, he was barefooted, and you thought that he would probably have his feet frozen because it was so cold you yourself found your body wrapped in a thick woollen sweater although you did wear one of your characteristic short skirts. His eyes, the feral gray you know so well, are cast outside darkly watching the little snow that falls from the winter night sky.

The dormitory was cast in darkness and half empty except for one or two seventeen year old boys fast asleep because there had been a Quidditch and the party was downstairs. All of the marauders are downstairs. You did notice as you sneaked ever so gently into the dormitory, one, that he was really disturbed otherwise he'd have noticed you entering and your predisposition to disturb his personal space and that he had not escaped the downstairs Firewhiskey fever. The bottleneck was choked in one of his big strong hands.

Slowly your right hand fished your right shoe, then your left one and you walked, still slowly and silently to him with your mary-janes in your left hand letting the cold seep through your sockets and the hot hair leave your lungs in small puffs of steam.

It is when you trip in something left carelessly in the floor which you hadn't notice being there (Had you forgotten you were in a boys room, in the marauder's even more?) and lose your balance that he finally notices you.

The spin of his head is so quick that you barely are able to catch it, it is just that suddenly those dark eyes are on you, glued to you gelid ice ones and you can't avoid them.

You drop the pair of your shoes.

That, Marlene McKinnon, is when you realize you have fallen.

His arm that before was hanging loosely over a knee is now moving, the forefinger and the middle finger pulling the fag from his mouth as he blew smoke from his lungs to the cold room.

"What are you doing here, McKinnon?"

His tone is raspy and low, but that isn't a new as is his demeanour, although you have seen him many times looking sombre, now he is positively melancholic and dark.

His voice is always like this though.

Even when he messes with you in the Great Hall while ruffling your hair or stealing your books.

Even when he asks for your brother Marcus, because they have this strange competitive relationship and he wants to beat older Marc at everything be it Quidditch or Explosive Snap.

Even when you see him whisper secrets to the rest of the marauders, camaraderie and complicity glinting in his eyes.

Even as he looks through his careless fringe, grins and declares he is awesome and handsome, immediately blinking to some random girl and making her swoon.

Even when he opens the Prophet, frowns, leaning to his left to show Potter the gruesome news that three or four years ago had started to invade your world, and comment sourly that this can't be good that this won't be good and that they have to do something.

Even when he used to ask Evans sometimes with a strange look of menace glinting in his eyes if she was to keep toying with his best friend for much longer, and now as he commands her to not be stupid and loose him.

Even as you shot him some mirth filled jab about him being one of the brightest star in the sky, second only to the sun and he answered with a smirk You know me, always the bright one.

Even as he used to pull you by the hem of your skirt to a dark corridor as you walked with Evans and McDonald or even Meadowes and kidnap you to pull some pranks at Filch, which undoubtedly knew it was you both and screamed both your names like a madman with that awful cat behind him.

Even as you shared glares in a game of chess that both wanted to win in the end he'd sit by you in the couch in front of the fireplace, his arm around your shoulders and he told some joke about how in seventeen years of knowing each other he still won every single one of them.

Even when he told you happily in the Hogwarts express that this summer before classes started he had left Grimauld Place number twelve and ran for his best friend's house in Godric's Hollow, even as he said he had never felt better in any other place. Or that his uncle Alphard had died and left him a reasonable amount of gold – with witch he wanted to buy a motorcycle.

Even when he told you that you were no more than a common whore when you and Gideon Prewett began dating, eight weeks and six days ago.

It isn't has if you have been counting the days you and the Ravenclaw have been together. Although you think he is funny and sweet and a great person all in all, you realize he is much more focused in other things and that he can't tame you. You have this feral dark side brewing inside of you, you want to fight and maul, sadistically. There are times you find pleasure in cruelness. You want to give back the action of these so called Death eaters to them.

You have been counting the days because you miss Sirius so much. You broke up with Gideon a week ago because you miss him so much. You practice your spells to exhaustion and stir your potions in the cauldron (potion is, after all, your favourite subject) to exhaustion to try and forget that Sirius won't even so much as look at you. You became distracted in a way Lily; even in her dating glee, realized you are not ok. You are not ok at all. And even though she tries to help she can't, she can't because she is not Sirius black your best friend since fourth year, the dynamic looking boy you have known all of your life.

Your parents are nothing like his, they fight against the dark do not wish it. Your parents do not believe in killing muggleborns to rise. But yours is a traditional family and both your families inevitably meet and have socialized in many occasions.

You like him since you are little, he has some sort of appeal you hadn't realized what it was till today. You like Andromeda too, she was older. You detest Bellatrix and Narcisa. You used to think the first was mean and the second was stupid. Now you know Bellatrix is cruel and gruesome, and Narcisa well, Narcisa goes with it. Regulus was so shut she never thought much of him- if she only knew…

He never looked happy when he was with them and the rest of his family. He looks happy with all of his friends here in Hogwarts. He used to look happy with you, Marlene.

"I came to check why you aren't snogging someone in the common room." Your voice toughens and so do you. Sirius has never liked stupid or whiny people. "After all, you were the hero of the game"

You provoke him. You saw what happened in the field when the game ended. You were in the first rows and therefore not only did you see but hear what happened.

He was an awesome beater. In the game you watched anxiously as Sirius beat the bludger towards Rosier one of Slytherin's beater who was aiming to Potter's head. With Rosier out of the way Potter could make his fourteenth goal, the score in the Gryffindor side showed 210 points, in the Slytherin side, 180. The game had been lasting for the last four hours. They were beginning to wish for the end of the game. And Leo Anthony, the Gryffindor seeker wasn't outstanding. And well… everyone had just discovered the new Slytherin Gryffindor- Regulus Black.

Nothing had been won yet though and now it depended much on the finding of the snitch that glowed strongly near one of the hooped arched. Potter called his Seeker desperately. Both seekers found the same at the same time. Potter may have had messed with Regulus's broom directions but then the lean fast Anthony sought the snitch desperately, Sirius beat another bludger in his own brother direction, it hit him in the stomach and destroyed his Nimbus 70.

Regulus Black fell slowly, in his brother's eye, to the floor like an angel soaring. To everyone else you know it seemed like he was going to hit the ground head's first. Slughorn, from his seat next to the whole Slytherin crowd was already making for that not to happen with a worried expression and with a simple wingardium leviosa the fifteen year old boy hovered above the ground until his body landed softly on the grass.

You can only guess that the worry in the old man's face was the fear that Walburga Black would tear him part for not having saved her golden boy. Her only son.

Anthony had caught the golden snitch, the silver wings escaping through his fingers as he landed and the game was terminated. Gryffindor had won the Quidditch cup once for the third year in a row – ever since James was captain.

Your eyes turned to the pitch again when you see the whole Slytherin squad circulate Little Black. And in the midst of the Gryffindor euphoria, Sirius stood there, aghast, winded, looking at the snake's circle, and trying to detect the figure of his younger brother. The circle opened when Slughorn arrived and both you and the boy you have been missing for more than two months now watch as Regulus is able to stab an elbow in the mud and raise his upper body.

Little Black spats blood on the blood and looks at his hand that is still holding on to the bigger piece of his destroyed broom. The rest is destroyed to shreds.

You can't read Sirius in one of the rarest occasions in life. He steps forwards and forward and forward again. And then suddenly he is but some meters away from the snake's circle.

Regulus, who looked so much like older brother looked him right in the eyes, similar faces, although very different eyes. After all, you think, are they not the mirror of the soul? Regulus was darker than Sirius.

Sirius did not speak, but Regulus face contorted in anger and once again stabbing the half of a broomstick he still possessed in the muddy ground, Regulus ignored efforts of his team mates to help him get up. He refused the touch of them all and supported by the wood he was able to look Sirius in the eye, he spat on the ground again, it was blood again, his teeth covered in them. He looked gruesome, with cuts on his face from the shards of wood that had flown his way when falling.

"Filthy blood traitor" Regulus voice was nothing like Sirius, you realize, it's much more full of hatred and shadows, "You are alone. You think you're not, but let's see if in some months you still have all your friends, those disgusting mudbloods, bloodtraitors and… and even the we-"

"Dare"

Sirius wand was aiming at him so fast he hadn't even seen it. The look on his face was positively feral, mad. You knew the menace was real at the end of that wand. He was powerful and talented, much more than his brother would ever be. Regulus knew that too. He shut and threw his brother a cruel smirk not unlike Bellatrix's.

"You'll see, brother. You are alone."

Just as Sirius was about to answer, Slughorn decided it was enough and pulled Regulus by his cloak.

"Let's go Black, to the infirmary."

"You can scurry off." His voice shook you from the memory and you are again in the cold dormitory, watching his form, in the window sill, he was looking outside again, ignoring you. "I know what you came here to do. I don't care to talk about it nor do I care to talk with you McKinnon. Fuck off."

"Don't be a dick. I didn't even start this conversation" you try to be whimsical and witty, even funny as you know he always appreciated these traits in you. He takes a swig of firewhiskey and a drag of the cigarette before smashing in the stone sill. Turning around to sit towards her he doesn't wear a feeling on his face.

"No. you just started something else. Didn't you?" his face contorted not unlike Regulus when he had seen his brother there standing, looking at what he had done. His voice wasn't so hateful but it was spiteful, angry and even tired, as if he had thought about it too many times.

You know it is a reference of what happened the night before you and Gideon assumed your relationship. You know it is a reference of you and Gideon happening to be official the very next day following the events of the night prior, in the common room, between the both of you.

You wince when you realize the words have left your mouth but it's too late to take them back. And you know he is going to hate you.

"I'm sorry Sirius…"

His frown deepens and he snorts derisively.

"I'm sorry Sirius?" His voice mimics yours "do you think that's what I want to hear? After all McKinnon, not only was I wrong when I thought I knew you but I was also wrong when I thought you knew me. Do you think that's what I wanted to hear? I'm sorry?"

You don't answer but there is an urge in you to prove him wrong. To prove him he knows you better than anyone, and that you know him better than well, probably even better than James. You desperately want to touch him, to hug him, just to reassure your self-conscience that yes, he is still here. Although he has left you for so much time he still exists in this world. Sirius is still worldly and not a figment of your imagination. Although you do dream a lot of him, Marlene.

He releases a cruel small laughter, one that doesn't resemble a bit his bark like sincere laughter and that doesn't sit well with you, and it twists your insides.

"Just get the fuck out Marlene. You pushed me away. Now I'm locking this door."

"You have no right to speak to me like this… or to say the things you said…." Your voice croaks and you step forward, almost in his personal space now. Downstairs the party thunders.

He jumped from the sill and, although you would never fear Sirius, he had that dark look spread through his face that had always made you aware of how much of a dark side he had to him.

Absentmindedly for a millisecond as he walks to you, you register in your brain how handsome he is, such a specimen of a man. Tall and lean he is broad shouldered and big and you have always, always felt protected in his company. His dark hair falls in waves to his shoulders, his face was carved in stone, and his strong jaw is your favourite line in his visage. He has an arrogant nose. His lips are sinuous but it is Sirius eyes that make his face, his.

"Get the fuck out of here now!" as soon as you come back to earth you see he is right in front of you, towering over you and almost growling. His voice has raised a tone and that when you know he is really angry and that's probably why there's not one marauder here. He has warned them to leave him alone, you know it. He doesn't like to be bothered or to share feelings when he's hurt. He thinks you don't know him. But you could write an instructions guide on Sirius Orion Black. "I don't want to speak to you anymore. Will you just leave me the fuck alone? Has never been a problem to you before, now has it."

"Sirius, that's not the truth-" you try to extend one of your small thin white hands to his face and held it, he has a stubble and it arouses you, no matter how much you deny it, Sirius Black arouses you. His harsh hand slaps yours away none to gently.

"You don't get to bloody say what the truth is!"

"You're my friend, of course I get to say what the truth is! Of course I get to say my opinion on whether or not we are to be mad at each other. Of course I get to get up here and talk to you ab- "

"Bloody hell McKinnon, you're my friend? How the hell did you forget that when you decided that you should be a slag and throw yourself at Prewett after we-... "You see him take a deep breath, his nostrils widening momentarily and you are so angry with him now, your blood boils. He still had no right calling you names.

"I didn't come here to discuss that, stupid." You mutter, avoiding his eyes, finally, finally, because they are such inquisitive eyes. You hear him snort again. He was being the kind of mean you had attributed to Bella when they were all little. He was being arrogant and pesky and most of all, you knew, he was hurt and that why he was acting like this, what had happened with Regulus.

"I know you didn't. You came to make peace. You came to remind me that we are such good friends. Seriously, McKinnon, get out, if I don't want to speak to either of my friends, what makes you think that I want to speak to you?"

Their voices echoed in the dormitory they were speaking louder and louder, Sirius was shouting now. Weren't you happy you cast a silencing charm towards the boys asleep in the canopy beds?

"You're in love with me"

His face morphed again and you realize your error. Here you are, throwing in his face what in his eyes it is nothing but a mistake. If only you could get it out and tell him it really wasn't. If only he could dream how much you have missed him. He grabs your bicep and jerks you to him brusquely, his grip is tight and you dare think forceful. He really wants you out of here this instant. But you also know that what you said to him is the truth. That is the extension of how well you know him. He tries to drag you towards the door, but you refuse to go, you shake your head and struggle to get out of his hold.

"Sirius! Let me go! I want to speak with you!"

"You bloody pest, get the fuck out of my sight! Out of my life! Now!" his screams echoed loud and clear but you charm is effective, he drags you to the door.

Maybe this was in vain, you think desperately as you feel yourself lose your strength. He doesn't want to speak to you. You don't want to impose your talk. Honestly you are afraid to get hurt because you know that when he too is hurt he is able to hurt you deeply with words and actions he doesn't mean and doesn't feel.

"Stop manhandling me and listen!" she pleaded, the door was near. It was one last effort to make him listen to her

"How dare you say something like that you slag? If you're feeling like talking you do it to bloody Prewett and get out of my sight."

Finally it crosses your mind as you get to the threshold and he is about to open the door, that he is very drunk and that is why he is being so stubborn and inconsiderate. At least that what you tell yourself, isn't it Marlene? And therefore you go and try once more, just one more time. You know you need him. You are desperate. Two months, two bloody months without him and you couldn't be more sure that this is what you have to do.

As he hauls you to throw you out you spin and your arms encircle him. You are faster, driven with the need to make him believe something because he too seems to have nothing to hold on to. His hands fall out of habit to your waist. And just when he realizes he is about to let go of you and start talking again, probably to bash you and call you a slut again, you are inebriated by the scent of firewhiskey in his breath by his sinuous lips and before he can do anything about it, your full but chapped lips are united with his, you close your icy eyes and fist his jersey, pulling him deeper to you. Snuggling in the pure unbridled feeling that is the person you have had at your side through all of your life, the person who means more to you.

You are sure that he is in shock at first. It is not the first time you kiss but it sure is the first time it is you who initiate it. He doesn't respond at first but in the second that thought's formulation in your head ends, he has you against the door and you feel the hardness that is Sirius Black's body, you feel those rough hands, one tangled in your hair pulling you further into him just as yours was doing just now. His other hand presses against your hip bone fervently throwing your body against the hard plane surface of the wooden door. His tongue explores your palate and his lips encase your bottom one and you sigh in his inebriating breath that tastes like the inebriating drink he has been drinking ever since the game ended and the victorious team came up to the seventh floor. When your other hand escapes so that your non subtle fingers can graze the taunt flesh of his abdomen you feel his muscles ripple.

His lips leave yours and it is now that you feel that you can't breathe, that you struggle for air.

His eyes are closed, his forehead touching hers, locks of his noir hair falling around you both. One of his hands still fists hair in your nape; his hands trembled, tugging a little. The hand that had been - what seemed hours ago- pushing against your hip bone, is punching the door silently.

You don't move, in fact you freeze. You are afraid that if you move he will run away.

His eyelashes flutter but he doesn't open his eyes. It's like he's making an effort bigger than you can imagine, keeping himself away from you. His breathing his ragged and he was sweating and trembling.

"How bad do you enjoy making a fool out of me, Marlene?"

His tone wasn't clear it was clogged with lust and restrain. He bit his lip and you mimicked his actions because his words hadn't quite yet been registered.

"I..." but your whole system is still overloaded, you don't feel your body but for the thundering in your chest and the coil of your loins. You ache for Sirius Black and there's no way around it.

You sigh again, momentarily forgetting his attitude and relishing in the delicious way he kissed you. You close your eyes and slide a little down the door, your hands flutter to your lips.

When you open your gelid irises again he is turning his back to you and returning to his firewhiskey bottle and to his rumpled pack of fags. Sirius doesn't trust you anymore. That's what you realize as you watch him walk slowly away.

Not when you started dating Gideon the day after he told you he felt about you like he had never felt about anyone else. Not when he had held you the closest and caressed your long dark hair and kissed you like you were some kind of tonic or elixir in the couch you both used to share after a game of chess. You realize you kinda broke his heart, but you know you are still in time to fix it.

The thing is he doesn't suspect how many times he broke yours. Ever since you know him, you love him in some kind of way. When you were little you loved him like you love an idol, now you loved him like you love a hero, because you respected him and admired him. You saw in him an exception to the rule that was worth it. You were in love since fourth year when he kissed the corner of your mouth under the mistletoe in the Christmas.

You just didn't show it because you preferred being his friend, one of his best friends; you preferred not getting out of whatever could exist between you two, hurt. You held out on him because you were afraid. And when he told you how he felt you just wanted to put a rock on the subject and forget he had ever said anything. You didn't want to believe. You didn't take the risk.

You were a coward, Marlene.

"I'm not messing with you" you rasp out when you finally can unroll your tongue and stop breathing raggedly. Sirius didn't stop walking, he didn't sat on the sill just ignored her and grabbed the firewhiskey bottle.

"You think I don't know you?"

You are getting sick of his defeated attitude and you step up. It's not fair. You were finally being courageous, as courageous as he was and he was stepping down, now? You walk slowly to him, your cheeks feel hot, you feel hot inside. You are mad! You want your best friend back, you wanted the demanding arrogant prick of a man who would always get his way! You want Sirius right now more than anything you ever wanted.

"You prick! You think I don't' know you? Then how's this? I know that your problem with your family isn't exactly being disowned as it is being unwanted. I know you think that when you left that retched place Walburga calls her ancestor's house to go to Potter's you have never felt better. But I also know..." you walk to him and although he hasn't turn around to watch you as soon as you started speaking the truth is that he tensed and stopped as soon as you opened your mouth and so you haven't lost your hope.

"I also know that deep down, although you have never been like them, deep down there's a part of you that wished you could have been, even if to pretend that everything was ok. I know that deep down there is a part of you that wonders if you could have saved Regulus from that place, from your parents."

Your speech is developing faster and faster, you feel motivated as if what you are saying is making so much sense it cannot stopped being said. As if your body is being commanded by some stronger force and as if your tongue knows its own way around words.

"I know you have a dark side to you that you feel you can't control sometimes and that makes you feel like you are more a Black than anything else. I know that you felt bad for what happened in the pitch today because for a second you remembered he was your brother, but then he spoke and it was dark all over again because you didn't feel a tad bit sorry for him."

"I know you think a lot about what he said. I know you're afraid to lose the people that are important to you. I know you think there's nothing better besides this castle. I know that you need to do something in the future that you feel will truly help because you hate to be helpless. I know you are ready to die protecting us, James, me, Lily, Remus, McDonald... I know you'd do it in the blink of an eye because you are the most damn egotistical person and there's something that compels you to be so god damned heroic!"

Your breathing is ragged. You are pissed off, but there's weight leaving your chest as words leave your mouth no matter how hurtful they are and as his torso turn around and she finds shocked gray eyes on her gelid icy blue ones, as if Sirius didn't expect you knew all these things. His eyes narrowed and you feel like he's accusing you. But how can it be your fault that you just... know him? He is as easy to read to you as an open book.

"Don't look at me like that, you bloody idiot... it's not my fault I know you is, now is it?" the tension inside you is building and taunting, stretching your insides and you want to hit him and push him away again because that's what you have been getting from him your whole life.

Your cheeks are suddenly trapped between one of his large hands, his calloused fingers press down on your rosy sweet hot skin, his nose brushes yours, and his angry eyes don't leave yours. You feel trapped but there is no denying that he has seen the light in what you said, and that you will not complain about proximity, his energy, you dare say his aura encompasses you and you know, he is so powerful.

"You think you know so much." His disdainful tone tells you that, yes, this is Sirius Black, because damn he was being the stubborn dog you know. Somehow that reassures you enough to smirk and nod.

"I know that I was too afraid before. That I was a coward." But now it is epic and you feel warm inside, as if you can do anything.

"Marlene...Don't..." In the back of your mind you know he spoke but it is too late you didn't understood what he said, you just know he seems helpless, restrained again, that he seems like he is missing the courage to do what he wants. And you want to say that you have enough for both of you because he fills you with it, because he gives you hope.

You eyelids fall half way languidly, lasciviously; you want him, oh you want him and the bloody bastard just won't give in. Your nimble arms encircle his muscled shoulders and your feeble hands fist locks of his hair, your foreheads touch but you don't kiss him right away. The first kiss seemed to have him sobered up with shock. You pull him to his bed, walking backwards on your tip toes. He has closed his eyes; one of his hands came up to try to detach one of your hands but instead he gives in and tightly grips your woollen covered limb, you notice he is absentmindedly shaking his head no but then he almost kisses you and you know he just needs you to prove him that he is not alone in this.

You will show him that you know him and that you want him and that if it depends on you, you won't ever, ever, leave him and he won't ever be alone. The back of your legs connects with the mattress of his canopy bed and you both fall inside blood red velvet.

Your whispering hands flutter around his face as you capture his lips at last and this time he isn't in shock, no. This time he holds on to you like to life itself you feel his fingers through the woollen thick jersey you wear, but the next second it isn't there anymore, you hear a zipper and suddenly you are half naked, and although you still have you short skirt its hiked up and his pants barely hand in his powerful hips, his jersey is discarded carelessly and the hand that is clenched next to your head is clenched around the black lace of your knickers.

His eyes are half lidded as are yours as he bites your ear lobe, watching your reaction, you writhe you moan, you mewl you almost beg him as you desperately hold on to him. Your legs circle his waist pulling him flush against you and you kiss his neck as one of your hands palm his face. His hand jerks your shirt open and tears the buttons from the seams, his hand grabs your waist and goes up until it palms one of your braless breasts. You are exposed to him, completely vulnerable, his free hand, the one not holding onto your knickers roughly. But you don't care. You can feel him pulsing, throbbing, longing for the same thing you do. Wanting for the connection you both know you have. One of your little foots darts elegantly to his hip and pulls his boxers down. Hot flesh escapes the clothing confines and sears you and you moan loudly your nails carved themselves in his neck.

He kisses you and swallows your scream and growls in your mouth when manages to be deep inside you. His flesh melting in yours, yours meld with his. Your back arches into him, he is hot and you feel cold but you don't care. As long as your body is in his there are no worries in your brain. You feel like you are one.

To the actions of both of you there is an anxiety, a feebleness that is proper of the search for ecstasy.

There is no foreplay, nor any indication of slow sweet love. Words don't exist either. But you don't care because you know your fucking reflects on your personalities. And you wouldn't want either to change. He fucks like he does anything else he likes in life, passionately, desperately, holding on and believing. He opens his heart, you are sure of it. You embrace his torso to yours harshly, your nails leave red track in his muscled back which contracts and swivels as he readjust himself above you, as he kisses you fervently, your lips puffy and you can feel the blood in them sensitizing them as Sirius pull on them with his own or with his teeth. His mouth slides down your chin. He bites and licks and the only thing you can do is to move your hips at the same rhythm his do, meeting his thrusts with your own, the flutter of his lashes tickles your jaw line and you pull his hair again so that his lips are right above yours and so that you can kiss him.

You can feel the bruising that will come tomorrow on the insides of your thighs, but you grab him tighter and higher offering better leverage. He pants in your cheek, locks of deep black hair fall on your lips , nose and eyelashes, clouding your vision and filling you with a distinct scent, cologne mixed with something very unique that is Sirius and you don't mind a single bit, because although you are half naked, grunting and rutting like animals, the draws of the canopy open and two more people in the same room, and everyone downstairs, and although you had just broken up with your boyfriend a week ago and although he had just called you a slag and hadn't talked to you in weeks. It didn't matter because in your conceptions it's still perfect and you still wouldn't have it any other way.

His pants resound in the room as do your loud moans, his breath is feverishly hot against your sweaty skin, and perspiration drops runs down his tan back.

You feel it coming, his hips burn into yours faster and merciless working beyond what yours can do and you let yourself be owned and dominated and your dark side feels appeased with it, as Sirius black takes you over. You arch desperately into him, gasp in his ear, his name brokenly. The thrust have become short and sharp you whine loudly and come in a raspy hoarse grown as you hold on to him with all the might you have.

It was fast. He has finished too, inside you, shivering intensely as he holds on to you. But you don't worry. You can't. Your head is still way up there in the clouds. You still haven't returned from the exquisite release you have achieved.

As you both were still horizontally laying on the bed, Sirius turns you both vertically and pushes your exhausted bodies underneath the sheets and bedspread, where you are warmer. He has gotten rid of his pants along the way and you decide, as you dress his Quidditch jersey that your skirt isn't doing a single thing to you either. He throws the black lace of your panties to his top drawer and one of your eyebrows shots dramatically up, as you elbow the mattress to watch him inquisitively.

He smirks as he watches your dark hair, the deep brown of it tangled in the air, the way your eyes shine, and the way your thick eyelashes drop over them, even though you are not tired. Not a single bit. Your lips are swollen and he thinks he had never seen you looking more appealing to him before right now. As he reaches for you and kisses you again, one of his hands tangling in that mass of hair and you correspond ardently, smiling in his lips after, you think that maybe you should let him know... everything you have always wanted to tell him.

"I'm keeping them."

But before you will say something you frown and look at the top drawer again and to his easy smiley face.

"What for?"

"So that you can never deny what happened in here McKinnon"

You smile and turn to him, you belly rubs his and one of your legs push his apart, you support your chin in his collar bone and look at him mischievously.

"What makes you think I'd ever want to deny what just happened, Black?"

He shrugs as his gray eyes peruse you intently. Then half smirks, half snorts and squeezes you against him.

"Sirius, for all it matters... I do feel the same."

He assumes a distant demeanour although his arm doesn't let go of you, you know that he his thinking in all of the obstacles that seemed to have been growing between you two.

"I'm done with Gideon. In truth I don't ever think I was into him."

He doesn't answer but his expression doesn't darken and you keep talking.

"It's just... you freaked me out Sirius... I've always liked you, ever since we were little. I never really admitted it to myself until fourth year... From then on I convinced myself that we could never be more than what we were... I never had the hope that you wanted me back..."

He was listening to you focused in the way your lips moved and your eyes glinted as you looked up at him, his other hand caressed your shoulder lightly and brushed a dishevelled strand of hair behind your ear, he doesn't speak but slides down so that his mouth is in yours level. He brushes his lips slowly against yours to encase your top lip in his; you seek the inside of his mouth with your tongue, he sighs and you melt into him.

And you realize there's no other place you'd rather be. Not on your dormitory on your soft warm bed, not with Lily and McDonald (who refused to be called Mary since it was just so plain) downstairs celebrating your lovers victory, not at home watching Mom as she bakes and rambles about stuff nor with Marcus, Matthew and Malcolm playing Quidditch out there on the yard nor with Father listening to him talking about his Ministry colleagues.

"And Prongs says I'm afraid of commitment..." he barks in a laugh that warms you from the inside out as his body shakes and yours with his. You kiss his neck sweetly and make a move to get out of his hold and of his bed. His eyes darken as he looks at you and he holds you tightly to him, with an iron grip.

"I don't care about labels McKinnon,"

He whispers harshly and rolls you both around in a fast movement under the covers that has you open and compliant under him once again, his hands gripping your waist tightly, his hard body is matches perfectly to the rises and grooves in yours. And you are soft and white and perfect. But you aren't that immaculate. You have three brothers and you have learned to ride a broom since you are seven. Your playing was always more boyish like climbing up trees, building tree houses, playing practical jokes on your old neighbours and stealing Mom's pie while it was on the outside sill. You are not like all other girls who played with dolls and make your little potions kit, no. Although you are very feminine and you know you are beautiful your prefer running outside in the mud instead of staying inside baking or cleaning like momma preferred.

"But heed my words. If we do this, I'm never letting you"

"Is that a challenge?"

"Do you want it to be?"

"You're so on Black"

The lack of tension and of the binding of a compromise lets you relax and unlock your muscles. Sirius works on that too as he slides you under the covers, each of your smiles matching the other as you giggle loudly when he tickles you with his stubble and makes this a celebrating night for you both.

Much more than downstairs could ever be.

You are in love, Marlene McKinnon, and Sirius Black will be in your last thoughts as you stare full of hatred in those red cruel eyes and fall limp and lifeless to the floor next to your whole family. You never let go of him.