September Event: Back to school
Prompts: being attracted to/starting an intimate relationship with a friend's mum or dad, breakfast
This is a one-sided Sirius Black/Mrs. Potter
His best friend's mother
Sirius couldn't sleep. He was constantly thinking about her, her perfect black hair, her wonderful red lips. He couldn't stop it. Deep down, he knew that he shouldn't think about her this way. That he wasn't even allowed to think that way about her. But he just couldn't stop. He had been living with her and her son, his best friend for a year now and she was the best thing that ever happened to him. The way she would smile at him when she made the two boys breakfast, how she would ruffle through both their hair and wish them a 'Good morning', or how she would make him feels loved. Something his own mother had stopped to do once he got sorted into Gryffindor. He loved his best friend's mother for it.
Of course Sirius knew, that she would never feel the same way about him, as he would feel for her. She was loyal to her husband after all. Still he couldn't help falling for her. Countless letters were stored away in a drawer in the former guest, now his, room, secured safely with several spells. After all he couldn't risk anyone finding his letters. Letters to a much older woman. Letters, of which most were started, but not finished. How would that look? His family would only have one more reason to despise him, if they ever found out about this. And his best friend? He would surely get angry and throw him out of the house together with his father.
The young man sighed. If he couldn't sleep he could start writing another letter. Another one that he would just start, but probably never finish. Sirius always wondered if the Potters would ever find these letters. Maybe in the future when he had moved out and they were cleaning up his room? What would they think if they found them? Would they just put them off as a silly little prank by a stupid teenager? Or would they do worse? He looked at what he wrote and shoved it into his drawer. Just like he thought. He would never be able to confess to her. He would always just stare at her lovingly and continue writing letters, that would never reach her.