Playing Ophelia
Chapter 2: Tangled
Summer, 1966
A little girl sat tugging at her hair. It had been pulled back into a tight bun, smoothed down, and it was hurting her. Her mother told her it was the only way to keep the blonde mess under control. Lauren decided she didn't like it much under control.
She was in a corner of the room, staring out across the adults mingling. No one saw her there, in her white floral dress with the bow tied around her bun. The laced collar and sleeves were itching. The shoes were too tight. She wasn't supposed to complain.
A boy came to sit next to her, tugging at the knot on his tie as if trying to bring it away from his throat. He turned to look at her with a sigh before resting his head in his hands, dejected.
Lauren laughed. She couldn't help herself. This boy was funny.
"I'm Lauren," she told him, introducing herself without being asked. "Lauren Devine," she added, remembering how she was supposed to use her full name in polite company. She wondered if this boy was polite.
"Sirius Black," he grinned at her, as if he liked the sound of his own name. "How old are you?" he asked, curious.
"Six."
"So am I!" To six year olds, finding out they were the same age was akin to finding out they would be best friends for life. It gave them a special bond, something unique to them, even if it only lasted the evening.
"Do you like climbing trees?" Lauren asked, and Sirius nodded. Immediately, she grabbed his hand and began to pull him away, knowing exactly which tree in the garden was the best for clambering up. They smiled together as they snuck away.
Autumn, 1971
When he joined the Gryffindor table, the Slytherins sat in a shocked silence. This was unexpected, and a great dishonour. Sirius went to take his seat with a wary smile, happy enough.
Lauren watched him with apprehension knotting her stomach even as hope shone in her eyes. She knew her sisters' expressions before she looked. Down at the Slytherin table, they were threatening, menacing, reminding her there was only one right answer today.
When her brother was called up, the clenching in her gut reminded her that it wasn't just her sisters she had to worry about. He didn't know. She was certain he didn't know.
He was about to find out.
He joined the Gryffindor table with a grin, sitting next to Sirius. Lauren wasn't sure if she should sit next to him when she joined them, or if it would be awkward. She knew she shouldn't sit next to Sirius. They would group them together anyway, the two traitors. They didn't need encouragement.
"Potter, Lauren!"
She tried not to look down at the Gryffindor table. She tried to avoid staring at the shock in James's eyes. She failed. It bore into the back of her skull like a new tattoo was being drawn. She felt like she'd singlehandedly stolen his innocence. She wanted to tell him she hadn't done anything. She'd just been born. That was her crime.
When Gryffindor was called, it was more important that she didn't look back at the Slytherin table. Not with longing, not with disgust. Not at all. She took a seat opposite the boys, next to a girl with straight dark hair and a small smile, her back to the Slytherins.
James threw her a questioning glance for just a moment before he looked away. She wanted to tell him the whole story: how they were half-siblings; what she knew of their parents' youths. She couldn't say it here. She would have to wait until they could be alone.
"I've met you before," Sirius commented, striking up conversation.
"You have. I was a Devine then," Lauren replied, noting her family's surname, the one she went by as a younger child.
"I remember you! Why are you a Gryffindor?" he asked, blunt in his childish ignorance.
"Why are you?" Lauren countered. Sirius had nothing to say to that, and so just tilted his head and grinned. Even as they smiled at each other, eyebrows began to draw together, already trying to work each other out.
Spring, 1975
"Hey, Lauren!" Sirius called across the lawns to where she was walking with the Gryffindor girls.
Lauren's head spun around to throw him a smile. Sirius had been walking with the boys in his dormitory, but his pace quickened to catch up with her as he left them behind.
Lauren gave quick farewells to her friends and dawdled behind a little.
"Are you free tonight?" he asked, looking a little guilty.
"Why? Did you forget about some homework due tomorrow again?" she replied with a grin.
"No!" he protested loudly. "I didn't forget, I just haven't done it yet."
Lauren wasn't the brightest witch in her year, and she was just as likely as he was to run for last minute help, but the brightest witch in the year wouldn't even think about helping Sirius.
"I could say no, you know," she told him, teasing.
"Yeah, but, you never do. And I helped you with Astronomy last week," Sirius reminded her, knowing they went through the same routine every time.
"Fine. But you're helping me with Charms tomorrow!" Lauren said as she began to walk away, back to her friends for lunch.
Winter, 1976
"So, when are you and Sirius gonna get together?" Marlene asked, shouting around Lily as the redhead waved her wand on Marlene's hair.
"Don't change the subject," Lauren complained, avoiding the question.
"I'm not. You were talking about the party tonight. I think you'll both be there. So?" Marlene prompted again.
"We're just friends," Lauren shrugged, avoiding her friends' gaze.
"Yeah, right, and your brother's nice," Lily snorted, and Lauren refused to comment. She happened to think James was nice, which voided Lily's point somewhat, but Lauren didn't think it was worth the argument. At sixteen, they had bigger worries, and right now, the biggest was what on earth they'd all wear that evening to celebrate the latest Quidditch win.
.o0o.
"Wormtail, stay away from the Firewhiskey; Moony, stay away from the chocolate; and Pads, stay away from my sister," James announced, moments before the boys headed downstairs.
The Firewhiskey comment was more than a little pointed after the last party, when James's attempt to flirt with Lily was interrupted by a stream of drunken vomit. The time Moony ate too much chocolate ended in a surprisingly similar fashion. It was the remark made in Sirius's direction that left him confused.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius asked, affronted.
"It means that just because your balls dropped doesn't mean you have to shag everything in sight," James retorted, spraying himself with aftershave before turning around.
"Mate, it's Lauren. We're just mates," he replied, shaking his head.
.o0o.
"I need some air," Lauren said, grabbing a fistful of Sirius's shirt and pulling him left, towards the portrait of the Fat Lady. It was only as she did so that she realised she'd forgotten where exactly she was, and therefore didn't know if the portrait was left or not. As Sirius gently turned her by the shoulder, she admitted to herself she might have been wrong.
It wasn't that she was drunk. It was just that the music was far too loud, and the room was spinning far too quickly, and, come to think of it, the colours were far too bright.
A few steps down the corridor, she turned to Sirius and took in his glassy-eyed appearance, the sway in his steps and perpetual grin on his face. Lauren couldn't hold in her laugh.
"You're just as drunk as I am," she told him.
"No, I'm not, I can walk in a straight line!" he protested, and proceeded to attempt to prove his point, but only managed to walk into two suits of armour.
"Shh! It's past curfew!" Lauren loudly reminded him, before a fit of giggles took over both of them.
Remembering she left for fresh air, Lauren took his hand and took him into an alcove with a window, which she pushed open, before sitting on the window sill. Sirius stood beside her, looking down.
They stood in silence for a moment before Sirius pulled a cigarette packet from his pocket. He took one out, deftly set it alight, and took a long drag before handing it to Lauren.
"Thanks," she said before breathing it in, the light-hearted laughter suddenly gone from the air as they calmed down.
"You know, James warned me to stay away from you," Sirius said, smiling through uncertainty.
"Huh. Lily said something similar. I wonder if it's you he doesn't trust or me," she joked as she handed back the cigarette.
"Oh, it's definitely me," he replied with a grin.
They'd both always considered themselves friends. They'd never stopped to think of anything more. Ideas planted as seeds are sometimes quick to take root. The air in the alcove was suddenly very heavy and thick, muscles tensed as minds raced. What was the right thing to say, now? Nothing their drunken thoughts could make sense of.
Sirius handed the cigarette back to Lauren and turned to look at her where she sat. Their faces were perfectly in line with each other. She watched him as she took a drag, blowing the smoke back into his face, before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on his lips.
Seconds later, the kiss was not gentle. It was searching, pleading, begging. Passion and alcohol took hold, and neither he nor she was certain which was which anymore. Lauren jumped down from the sill, pressing their bodies closer together, and in a tangle of limbs, they made their way to the nearest place of privacy. Pushing the brooms out of the way as they shut the cupboard door, Sirius remembered to cast silencing and locking charms on the wood as Lauren fumbled with his buttons.
"Not sure this could be any more cliche," Lauren commented wryly.
"Nothing beats a good old broom cupboard," Sirius replied with a wink, before they both found themselves too preoccupied for more words.
Spring, 1977
"Moony, remind me to mention that to Lauren next time I see her!" Sirius called out, laughing at some joke his fellow Marauder had just said. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Lauren and Sirius were definitely still just friends.
"She's over there," Remus pointed out, gesturing to the blonde head of the girl in question, stood alone by a beech tree as if waiting for someone.
Sirius headed over as Remus slowed his pace, prepared to wait for his friend's return.
"Lauren!" Sirius called out when he was close enough, smiling as he attempted to get her attention.
"I've got to go and meet Lily," Lauren said, without a smile, before turning away and walking back towards the castle, leaving Sirius waving at thin air.
"That was weird," he muttered to himself under his breath before turning back to Remus.
Spring, 1977
Owls hooted as creatures in the Forbidden Forest howled at the moon. In the boys' dormitory, all was still and silent except for soft snores. The door pushed open inaudibly, despite its usual creak. A wand was pushed through, soon followed by a girl. She made her way deftly to one of the beds, a specific bed, and cast silencing spells on its curtains before pulling it aside to allow herself in. She sat up beside the figure sleeping there and crossed her legs, leaning forward.
She gently shook the shoulder of the sleeping seventeen year old until he rolled over, opening his eyes to look at her.
"What time is it?" he asked, mind and voice both still groggy and full of sleep.
Lauren shrugged. "Maybe two?"
"What do you want in the middle of the night?" he asked, bringing his hands up to rub at his eyes.
"Couldn't sleep. I thought I'd come and see if you were awake," she replied, the ghost of a smile dancing on her lips.
Sirius just rolled his eyes as he pulled himself up a little, so he was leaning on his elbows as he looked at her.
"S'up?" he asked, prompting her to speak.
"Simon should have written back by now," she admitted. Simon was her brother, two years older, born without magic into a magical family. As such, he was often at risk, in danger, particularly in such turbulent times. When he didn't write on time, Lauren always worried.
"Consider it a good sign. If anything had happened, you'd have heard. No news is good news," he told her.
Lauren sighed in a reluctant agreement.
"Come here," he said, raising an arm in an open gesture.
Lauren lowered her head, stretching out her legs, so that she was lying beside him, her head resting on his shoulder as he played with the ends of her hair until sleep claimed them both.
When Sirius woke up the next morning, her imprint on the bedsheets was still warm.
Summer, 1977
The broom closets of Hogwarts were varied in size and shape, and the amount of brooms they housed. This meant that some of them were more accommodating to two fully grown teenagers than others. The particular broom closet of this Saturday morning was spacious, and had a deep windowsill ideal for sitting in, but not wide enough for lying down. If Lauren had to choose, she would say it was one of her favourites.
At that moment, however, Lauren was unable to think of anything much, apart from Sirius's very specific actions. As her breathing began to normalise again, and her pulse slow down to a more normal pace, she mumbled something she never dreamed she'd ever say.
"What?" Sirius asked, breathy and confused.
"Nothing," Lauren replied, closing her eyes as she attempted to bury her face in his neck. He placed his hands on her shoulders to stay her.
"What did you say?"
Lauren was forced to look him in the eye. She bit her lip, wanting to shrug, to laugh, to run away. Praying the ground would open up beneath her.
"I love you," she repeated with a shrug, a shrug that meant 'it's nothing', 'we're not even in a relationship so whatever', 'I'm scared you don't feel the same thing'.
Sirius's face lost all colour as he stood motionless. Lauren watched him. He stepped back.
"I'm sorry, I… I have to go," he stammered, unable to think of the right thing to say, not knowing what he felt or anything except the shock. He had not expected that. That wasn't how it was supposed to go.
He turned on his heal, fastening the buttons of his shirt as he walked to the door. He opened it and stepped through, letting it swing shut behind him, without a backwards glance.
A/N: Here's Chapter 2! It's a little late, but it's here, and I hope you enjoyed it. Again, written for the Quidditch Through The Ages Challenge at Diagon Alley. The prompt chosen was: "Nothing beats a good old broom cupboard."
2479 words.