Author: Me. Obviously. Lin.

And, with me being introduced, a note: It's been a while since I've posted stuff to here. Goodness knows how much crap I have here, actually, and I know that I most certainly wouldn't want to read it again, much less edit it and make it even remotely to the level of writing I am at now. But, with that said, there's been little to show for my learning -- I've written very little story wise, and this one, had it not been a request and a comission, would probably never have been written. But once I started it, it wouldn't leave my head. I won't get into too much detail what it's about -- if you've gotten to this page, I expect you're either interested in my writing (somehow, I don't know), or saw that this was a Harry Potter fan-fic, and was short, and, therefore, had to read it. Either way, however, I'll stop rambling and just let you read it for yourself. (If you really want to know, turn back and read the description.)

Oh. One last note. Quidditch and the name Sirius Black does not belong to me. As for who Remmy is, I'll let you decide... In essence, I disclaim. Idea for story was mine, but it could happen to any girl in any world. The rest doesn't belong to me.

Unwanted, Well-Meant Advice

She was lost. Completely and utterly lost.

She sat at her vanity table. Turbulent amber eyes stared at the image reflected in the mirror: a young woman, her naturally curly shaded brown hair in tangles that fell just past her shoulders. No, not physically lost, but emotionally. She had never truly and seriously considered what would happen if she told Sirius Black that he… well. Failed at life, more or less. What would the consequences to her be if she told him that, since he was unable to make enough of an effort to see her, much less do anything else with her, that it may be best to part ways. Nor had she considered his feelings, but, as he was a guy, she would probably have better luck getting her reflection to give her relationship advice than getting one of them to talk about their feelings. At this moment, she would have been willing to try though.

She hadn't considered just how alone she would feel. How lost. How… without direction. Sirius had been her compass, guiding her in his gentle way. She hadn't realized this – after all, they saw each other rarely – she tried to make her lifestyle as free as she could in case he called, she could easily say that she would be available to do something with him, but he… he had felt that devotion to his stupid Quidditch and friends were greater on his priority scale than she. Or so she felt. He spoke differently, of course, when they were together. He spoke of how much he loved being with her, loved her smile, her mannerisms, how… young and carefree she was. How much he loved spending time with her.

Words were lovely, and they once filled her with a glowing warmth. But the last few times, each time he spoke those words of affirmation, of affection, she had felt doubt claw at her, competing with the safe warmth. If he cared as much as he spoke, why would he not have made the effort to see her? In those moments of despair, her fear of unworthiness had a chat with doubt, and the two had let their thoughts known… and she had talked to him. Told him how neglected she felt. How he seemed to be dating Quidditch rather than she, and she couldn't do it anymore. Couldn't always be the one to call him. Couldn't always be the one to ask if he had time to do something. Couldn't. Just couldn't.

And so they parted ways. He had, at first, been speechless (quite a shock in itself – she could hardly remember a moment in their three month relationship when he hadn't been able to find words to say, even if she had considered them to be… uncouth. Made her want to shrivel up and pretend that she didn't know him). Then said that he understood – though hadn't known about her jealousy for Quidditch, how she had felt secondary to them, how she had whined and grumbled to her friends concerning it – and had noted that it wasn't fair to her if he promised that he could change his ways for her. And trying wouldn't be enough...

Oh, how she missed him! Despite everything, she knew that he would have been there for her in her times of great need. When she had other worldly issues she needed advice on... and, at times, when she felt skin hunger and loneliness and just needed to be held until she was ready to break away and face the world again... ready to stand on her own.

He had told her that both he and his family would hate for her to walk out of their lives... not that she had counted upon it. A previous... relationship had ended that way. Not with her walking out on a family, but with him leaving and taking his family with him. The family she had grown to love in their eight month acquaintance, friendship, and love. She had been abandoned then... the pain, the desolation of losing them had been almost as great as his parting words... that it had all meant nothing to him. Nothing!

There was a knock on the door. "Ro? You can't hide in there forever." It was her brother.

"Can too." A rather childish response, but she didn't really want to hear the sense that always came out of her brother's mouth in times like these.

"No, you can't. Let me in."

But... she never could hide anything from him, nor could she ignore the insistent, soft, mellow voice. It was with a sigh that she turned away from the mirror to look at her door. "It's open, Rem."

The handle turned, and her older brother, Remmy, strode into the room. He was built much like her -- light of frame, pale, with a strong nose. His hair was lighter than hers... sun kissed, some called it. She watched him approach her, his hands outstretched, beckoning her to stand and embrace him.

She needed the hug -- they both knew it, and so she stood up and fell into the warm, safe embrace, burying her face into his neck. He had always been there for her, as she would be for him... but the same embrace of family was pale in comparison with the comfort and acceptance from someone out there. Alike, yet different it was, and no matter how many hugs she received from him, it would never be enough...

He held her, stroking her hair, saying nothing until she drew away reluctantly and sat back down on the padded bench, her hands still holding one if his.

"You're crying," Remmy sat down next to her, reaching behind them to grab a tissue. It was only then, after he mentioned it, that she noticed the salty taste of tears in her mouth. A horrified glance at his shirt showed her that they were damp where she had buried her face into them. "I'm sorry!"

"For what?" He queried, turning back to her with a tissue, and moping gently at her face with his free hand.

"Your shirt... I cried on them."

He glanced down at them and gave a shrug. "They'll dry. And you'll get through this, Rowenna."

He never called her by her full name -- well, rarely. It made her look at him, really look at him. There was a weariness around his eyes that she hadn't noticed before... He went on, not letting her get a word in. "You've got our mother's chin." He tapped beneath her chin lightly, raising it up. "Proud, strong... and even in your tears, you hold it high. Mother's beauty, Father's resilience. You'll bounce back all right... whether or not you make that attempt."

"Rem--"

He cut her off. "No, Ro. I know what you are considering, but you can't. I can't watch you get hurt by him anymore."

"Rem. I'm a big girl." It was in an exasperated voice that she said this; sometimes, it seemed, her brother had never came to the realization that she was old enough to not need his molly-coddling all the time.

He shook his head. "Ro. No. You like him far more than he likes you. You aren't allowed." These last words were spoken with finality. The look in his eyes held no room for argument. She looked into those eyes and sighed. It was rare that Remmy pulled his "big brother" rank, and, when he did, she normally obeyed him, for she knew that he meant her well.

"But--"

"I won't have it. Tell me. How many times has he made you cry? How many?"

She paused. It was a good question... and one she didn't have a very good answer for. Rowenna turned away from him with a sigh. "I... don't know. I don't keep track."

"There you go. No guy who cares for his girl would be able to stand making her cry."

"He doesn't do it on purpose!"

"No? He doesn't even have the decency to call you and tell you if something comes up and can't see you... and leaves you just sitting there, feeling like a fool! Really, Ro. Not on purpose?"

"He... forgot?" Even as she said those words she knew that she was grasping for excuses. It was a lame reason, even in her head, and saying it out loud made it even more ridiculous.

"Yeah, Ro. He really likes you but can forget meetings that you..." He stopped, sighed, and started over again. "You have to ask him if he wants to do something, and you get a reply that is similar to "what for?". And when you finally do get him to agree to meet you... He doesn't even show up!" His indignation for his sister showed through the frustration in his voice.

It was with a resigned sigh that she managed the next word: "When?"

"When he contacts you. I know it won't be easy, but you must."

She stared at the warm Persian carpet that decorated the floor of her room. Could she do that? Could she break her habit of calling him? Could she be all right with the possibility of not ever hearing his voice again? No. Well. Maybe. Worth a shot, at any rate... "I'll try... but... it's so hard not to want to. And don't quote Yoda at me." She added with an afterthought, before continuing on. "And when I do see him, even now, he makes my breath catch, and I find myself transfixed..."

"Does he notice you?" He queried pointedly. The silence that followed the question gave him the answer, and Remmy continued on. "That's why you like him more, and why you must stop trying to see him."

She buried her head into her hands, and her body shook with a heavy sigh. "All right, Rem. I'll do it. Somehow."

"That's my girl," his smile could be heard in his voice. She felt an arm curl around her and pull her close to him. It may not have been the arms of another that held her, but Rowenna knew that these arms, and their owner, would never hurt her or betray her. And that, for now, was enough.