Disclaimer: Nothing in the Harry Potter Universe is mine-- yet. Hey you never know right?! Siren Callisto is of my own making though.
This story is a re-vised edition of The Trouble with Marauders. But this story is also totally different and will go in a different direction. So, I advise not reading the other story and following this one. If you've read the Trouble with Marauders then not to worry-- this story will end the same as the other one would have, I think. So sit back and enjoy! This in itself is a slightly revised chapter as of December 2006, so enjoy my new writing style which has more juicy details ;)
Friday nights were meant to be spent sneaking fire-whiskey for illegal under-age drinking and include friends and parties. Never in my Friday nights was Sirius Black purposely included--never. But tonight seemed to be one of those annoying exceptions to the rules, as I glared at the lanky seventeen-year-old boy that blocked my path in the dim corridor halfway between the third floor and the Gryffindor common room.
"Move." I hissed in annoyance, tapping my wand impatiently against my thigh with one hand, and a bottle of fire whiskey tucked safely under the arm of my other hand.
"Ah can't you asked a little nicer Callisto?" Sirius asked smoothly, "You know, like with whipped-cream and a cherry on top?" He stood, his broad shoulders and tall frame blocking the only lit torch in the corridor, which cast his face in shadows. A face which most consider handsome-- and I say most because I don't think theres anything remotely handsome about a bullying git. Which I tell him all the time.
"A little nicer?" I asked pretending to consider the possibility. "I don't think so... maybe I can ask a bit more roughly." I snap, giving him a hard whack on stomach with my wand. I pretend know to notice the contact my wand had with a very nice body-- not that I would admit it was nice-- but a body hardened beautifully by Quidditch practices.
"Ah I think I'd like it roughly then." Black replies with a smirk as he steps closer to me, alarmingly limiting my personal space. Theres a cool glint in his storm-gray eyes, and that gorgeous-- I mean-- annoying black hair falls into his eyes.
I bring my wand up again and keep it between us, not allowing him to get any closer to me. "Leave me alone you arrogant prat." I huff, feeling my cheeks flush crimson. And my own wild blond-red hair falling into my face. Unfortunately it lack the grace of Mr. Black's and I have to push it out of my eyes to see right.
"Arrogant prat am I?" Sirius snorts. "So do you know who hexed my bed into becoming soaking wet around 3am every morning?" Sirius asked casually, his gray eyes slightly amused-- but mostly not. Since obviously he hadn't found a counter-hex yet.
"Wet bed?" I asked, attempting full innocence. "I don't think you should be blaming a hex on that Black, really... Maybe Madame Pomfrey has a cure for that? Or maybe one of your nightly friends. I think Alice Larson could help you with it."
"No see, I don't have that problem thanks to Alice and a few other friends." Sirius said smirkingly with a cold glint in his eyes now, "Lets just cut the crap, and you can tell me the counter-hex Callisto."
"Now see even if I wanted to, I couldn't Black. New hex in the making, you know how it goes... Not a counter-hex figured out yet." I say cheerily, glancing around and looking for the quickest escape root.
Sirius growls and steps closer, only to find my wand pressing insistently into his stomach. "I want that counter-hex Callisto-- NOW!" He shouted, raising his own wand.
My oh my, do I hate Sirius Black. We've been rivals since our first day here. Sworn enemies.
"I think you're going to have to sleep in a wet bed for a few more days." I say sharply. "You bullying toerag." I reply, raising my wand now also, readying it into cursing position.
"If you'd just give me the counter-hex, we wouldn't have to go through this Callisto..." He said threateningly.
"Just think of this as pay back for those lovely fillibuster fireworks in my potion last week Black." I say as sweetly as possible. "Now I must be going." I take a swift step to the left, only for his to step over and block my way. I attempt a quick bounce to the right, again to be stopped. I'm now way to close to him, with my chest mere inches from his, theres no place to the right to go now as the stone corridor wall blocks me. Can't go forward because of Sirius. And backwards is not an option. I eye the small opening to the left, the dang brute almost takes up the whole of the slim hallway.
"Get out of my WAY, YOU BIG-HEADED JERK!" I shout.
"TELL ME THE DAMN COUNTER-HEX!" Black says, becoming more frustrated than I've ever seen him... he possibly really dislikes sleeping in a wet bed. Or being woke up suddenly at 3am by a gush of frozen water. Who really knows what the real reason is.
"MOVE EGOTISTICAL MORON!" I know scream, losing my temper.
"THE COUNTER-HEX NOW!" Black replys, stepping closer and trying to appear more intimidating. He's a good space taller than me, being 6'1 compared to my 5'6. I can feel the warmth radiating off of Black, hes so close.I think if I breath to hard, my chest might accidentally brush the slightest bit against him. I'm flustered at having him so close and being so angry.
"BLACK... BLACK..." I stumble over my words, so angry and flustered I cannot think properly anymore.
"Ah I do like you screaming my name Callisto." He says, deadly softly and theres a look I don't quite recongnize in his eyes. Something that looks over the edge. And then before I can stop it, theres no more space between us. And his lips are hot and crushing, demanding on my full ones. My hand jumps up to his chest on its own accord, and the bottle that had been so carefully tucked under my arm falls to the floor and shatters. Fire whiskey is splashed and soaks the bottoms of both of our robes.
Theres a quick minute where I react to nothing but the heat and passion in the kiss, the demands. But then I realize whats happening, who I'm kissing. I tack a forceful step backward and give Sirius a shaky slap in the face. He looks stunned and slightly dazed. I'm sure I look no better.
"Never. Touch. Me. Again. I'm not one of your whores." I say, taking a ragged breath, I seemed to forget how to breath properly. Sirius seems momentarily stunned for the first time in his life- over the kiss or over the slap I'm not sure. But I take a quick step over the broken glass, then dash past him and slip into one of the secret passage-ways.
That night I dreamed of a tall dark-haired quidditch player whom I hated. And maybe felt something more for. We're kissing and doing other things lovers do. I wake up drenched in sweat, and the rest of the night I don't sleep, but toss around fretfully.