A/N: Sirius/OC. Why he is that he is. This is an old fic, embellished and changed so that it's actually readable. I promise I am working on other stuff too...kind of... really...
The Girl Not Spoken Of
The painful air, dour expression, and bored countenance hung around Sirius Black like a mantle, as he walked slowly through the dusty corridors of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He wished fervently for the second time that hour that he was not here.
Anywhere but here.
He had hated this house, he had run away from this house, only to be trapped here once more.
His mood became even more sour, (if possible,) and his facial expression traced the tiny lines beginning to form between his eyebrows and around his mouth, as he settled into a deep scowl. A dark cloud of foreboding and misery, he angrily swept through the hallway, finally coming to rest in the kitchen.
It was the middle of the day--all the order members were out. The kitchen was silent, lit only by one grimy window. He amused himself for a few minutes by idly watching the dust motes, illuminated by the single column of light. Molly Weasley would throw a fit if she knew that the kitchen, her sanctuary, was in fact home to as much bacteria, if not more, than the rest of the filthy rooms in this disgusting house. He even smirked at the thought, with it only to be replaced again by a thunderous frown.
Molly Weasley… Bored and grumpy, his eyes turned of their own accord to the single adornment in the otherwise barren room.
A tarnished and brassy frame, with the glass chipped in two corners, it held an old, black and white, muggle photograph of the Weasley's youngest daughter. She was smiling, her eyes reaching out of the photo, a simple invitation to look at her again, harder, longer.
The simple smile, the reaching, the invitation, all filled Sirius with a yearning. He had known a girl like her once--the type of girl who you could never decide whether she was pretty or not, because she was never still enough to let you look, really look, at her.
Ever like this one, captured on paper in a moment in time, both girls had jumped off the page. The bright vivacity of their eyes, the enchantment of the smile, all drew you away from features and symmetry and nonsense and had you focus instead on how she gleamed, from a light source that seemed both internal and as if something was shining down upon her.
His mind turned inwards, seeing another girl, whose bright eyes seemed to glow with a molten warmth, with a silvery laugh that could chase you down corridors.
&
Rich mahogany hair gleamed as it was lifted off the back of her neck and shaken in the sunlight, then allowed to cascade back over her shoulders in luscious waves. With a delighted sigh, emitted from lips which naturally curved upwards from smiling, the girl stretched her arms out and yawned, revealing perfect white teeth. She seemed to almost bubble over with life, laughter, and love, even just sitting quietly in lessons. Marie effortlessly dominated the room, without seeming or even wanting too, and there were very few students, both male and female, whose eyes were not magnetically drawn towards her.
Sirius glared, with a haughty arrogance that only a seventeen year old can muster. He honestly couldn't see what the fuss was. She wasn't even that pretty—just normal, an average girl. Brown hair, blue eyes, tan skin, straight nose. But there was something there he couldn't quite place. He couldn't really satisfactorily decide whether she was pretty or not. It was very frustrating, and so he decided to engage in more interesting past times and hit Prongs over the head with a book.
"You were drooling," he said, casting a meaningful glance at Lily Evans, sitting a few seats away. At that moment she turned towards her best friend, and quickly whispered something in her ear. Marie whipped around, staring straight at Sirius, who had chosen that moment to continue glaring at the back of her head. Blushing at being caught in the act, he turned moodily away, leaning his chair back against the wall and putting his hands behind his neck. Annoying females. It was a perfect time for a nap, anyways, all sunny and warm.
"Ahem, Mr. Black," called Professor Flitwick, breaking in to his reverie. "If you would rejoin the rest of the class, please." Several students sniggered. Sirius shot them an icy glare. He caught a glance of Marie covering a smile with her hand. He had had enough of the brainless Hogwarts population of bimbos. It was enough to make him stomp out of the classroom the moment the bell rang, heedless of his friends' shouts to wait up.
Prongs was first to catch up. "Padfoot, what's going on?"
"Nothing," said Sirius grumpily, at the same time as Peter (slightly breathlessly) said "women." "Jesus, how does he do that!?" he snapped irritably.
"What, always know the right answer?" Moony had arrived.
"No, always say it at the wrong time," Sirius quipped, just as Prongs uttered a surprised "when did you get here?"
"Peter told me he stormed out of Charms," Moony said, answering the second question first.
Sirius glared. "Is everyone intent on ignoring me and interrupting me?"
"Don't you think you're being a little bit of a drama queen?" Peter asked unfeelingly.
"Nonsense. Men can't be drama queens," Prongs replied deprecatingly.
"Nice defense," Sirius muttered sarcastically, while Moony tried to placate Prongs with a "well he's being a drama king then."
"You are," Peter replied defensively to Prongs' glare. "I mean, how annoying can a girl be?" Prongs and Sirius just exchanged glances.
"Very annoying," he finally said, surprised at the anger in his voice. "Every class is the same. She thinks she's so great, just because rest of the population of Hogwarts can't seem to keep their eyes off her."
"Ahh, I see," Moony said patronizingly, and Sirius maturely resisted the urge to punch him in the face. "You're jealous," he said simply, as if stating the obvious. "You're used to being the center of attention, and now that some girl is, for a change, you feel like she's usurped your rightful position."
"Yeah, yeah, that's exactly how I feel," Sirius said, his voice loaded with sarcasm. "I've never heard such idiocy."
Peter looked thoughtful. "Actually…"
"Oh, yeah, side with him, go on," Sirius shouted. "I'm just a huge prick who's jealous because he's not the center of attention."
&
"You know, Padfoot, we weren't ganging up against you."
It was late, and the common room fire crackled in the empty room. Sirius was surprisingly quiet, scribbling on a piece of parchment with a sorry-looking quill. "Yeah, I know," he grumbled. Prongs took this as an invitation to plop down in the armchair next to Sirius.
"C'mon, man, we're your friends. If you can't complain about girl trouble to us, who to?"
"Prongs, seriously, you know me." It was hard to say. Sirius was a staunchly loyal friend, and was especially close to Prongs. "You know I would run through fire for you, mate. I just don't enjoy discussing my feelings."
Prongs agreed. "It isn't particularly manly."
"You sure moan about Evans enough," Sirius grumbled, giving Prongs a sidelong glance.
"Hey!" Prongs caught the look. "Fool." He stood up, ruffling Sirius' hair (which he knew he hated.) "One day, the Ice King will fall in love. And then you shall be on your knees, groveling to the wise Prongs and begging for me to tell you all I know."
"If I ever fall in love, I shall do it with far more tact and precision than you have thus far exhibited in your campaign to woo the delicate heart of our lovely leading lady Lily Evans." Sirius replied absently, focusing once more on the parchment. "My crusade for the heart of a beloved damsel would be something that bards and minstrels would sing of in years to come…poems and serenades would be written in my honor…women and men alike would swoon…"
He was cut off by a sharp pillow blow to the head.
&
And so it was widely decided and naturally assumed that the fortified heart of one heartbreaker was invincible.
But Marie Ginger had other designs. She had never really been one to go with the trends of the time.