"Wait a minute," you might be saying. "Is this Ava Miranda Dakedavra? This is her, right?" Yes, yes it is. "But she updated in a decent amount of time." Yes, you are correct. "No, no, you don't understand," you insist. "She, like, never does that." Oh, well, I don't think - "Like, never," you interjected. "One chapter, she ended with 'see you soon!' And then she didn't update that fic for a year." Pfft, you're exaggerating. "I'm not," you reply solemnly. It's a very serious problem. I entirely agree. But is there really a cure for life, college, writer's block, etc.? "Maybe, I dunno, an actual update schedule?" You raise a brow. I try to avoid eye contact. I really wish I hadn't started the chapter this way, but here we are. I cough into a fist and vow to never do something like this again.
"My breath's been held tonight/ You've got me somewhere I don't know/ And although I've gone away/ That somewhere always feels like home/ Can't say I'm better off alone..." - Dylan Gardner, "I'm Nothing Without You"
Sirius realized, in the short few weeks that he'd been living with the woman, that the year was 1999, and he was supremely fucked.
The woman, who hadn't introduced herself to him, read a lot, hummed a lot, and went outside very little. When she would go outside, she would go along with him, which made for escapes to be extremely difficult. Especially when he realized that she was a witch, and the chances of her knowing what an Animagus was were extremely high.
He wondered how bad being a house pet would be, compared to being a wanted criminal without any money, and when placed in that comparison it didn't seem all that bad.
After several weeks of it just being them in the house, Sirius was startled awake from his spot under the coffee table when he heard the Floo roar to life, and a figure emerged from it and moved slowly into the kitchen where the woman had been making tea.
"Oh, I didn't realize you'd be back so soon," he heard her say, calm and relaxed before he heard a man chuckle.
"I did my paperwork a bit sooner," he said, and she made a pleased hum before they both sat at the tiny kitchen table, each with a mug of tea. "How've you been?"
"Busy," she answered before she heaved a deep sigh, "Well, I've been reading. Not much to do once you've quit your boring Ministry job. Other than that and adopting a stray, not much else."
"A stray? Another cat?" he asked, the chair creaking as he twisted in it.
"Actually, I got a dog," she said with a smile in her tone, "Haven't thought of a name for him yet, if you've got a suggestion then please feel free."
"Screw the conversation invading your personal life, where's the dog?" The man asked excitedly, and she laughed before they eventually moved to the living room and the man laid down in the floor to look at him.
He looked like James, Sirius realized with a start, but with green eyes and round glasses and a funny looking scar on his forehead. This could only be Harry.
"He's a bit shy, I've found," the woman told Harry, arms crossed but relaxed.
Sirius belly crawled slowly to Harry. He couldn't believe his luck. Out of all the women he could've been adopted by, he got the one that knew Harry. His only link to James and Lily, his old life.
"He looks like Sirius!" He exclaimed with a laugh, sitting back on his heels as Sirius slowly inspected him, tail beginning to wag.
She laughed as well, sitting in the floor with them and smoothing her hand over Sirius's back. "He does. It's why I stopped when I saw him. And, since Crookshanks died, I thought it'd be nice...familiar, I guess."
"Crookshanks died?" Harry asked abruptly. "Oh, Hermione, I'm so sorry. I had no idea."
She shrugged, not meeting his eye and still focusing on Sirius. "Well. It's not like I told Ron."
Harry sighed, scooting over to her so their knees were touching. "Yeah. Wanna talk about that?"
"Not really," Hermione insisted. "It was mutual. You know. I'm sure he told you. By the way, unfair that only Aurors can get in touch with other Aurors when they're on missions. I needed some sympathetic words when I found my cat had died."
He wrapped an arm around her and brought her close, so she could rest her head on his shoulder as she tried to control her sniffles. Sirius set his head on her knee and watched, letting her scratch behind his ear again.
"Right," Harry nodded, petting her own hair, "Well, I'm terribly sorry to hear Crookshanks has died. I loved that cat as much as I would love my own cat, and I'm sure that Crookshanks will be...err...for the better? Wait, uhm…"
She began to laugh, "Were you trying to use my cat as a metaphor for my failed relationship with Ron? He would throw a fit - he's always hated Crookshanks."
"Maybe," Harry chuckled as well.
"It is fine, you know," she insisted. "We agreed we're better as friends. I just...never realized how alone I'd be."
"You've got me," Harry declared. "Give you and Ron some time, and you'll be back to normal."
"I know," she murmured. "It's just...it hurt, because you were gone and I couldn't very well talk to him about it, and then Crooks passed and - "
Harry hugged her fiercely when the floodgates opened, and Sirius moved off of her to let her sob into his chest.
"You aren't alone, okay?" Harry whispered. "I've got you. I've always got you. Promise."
"You can't always be with me, Harry," she hiccuped.
"Yes I damn well can," he insisted, wrapping his legs around her torso and squeezing tight. She chuckled. "I'm your leech now. Never getting rid of me. We'll be old and grey and losing our marbles and I'll still be here."
"Harry - " she laughed.
He made a wet, schlicking noise, much like a leech suctioning onto something, and she squealed and tried to pry herself away from him, to no avail. They were laughing at each other, and Sirius watched on as he tried not to hurt at how much he missed his own friends. He'd come to the realization one night that Peter had, inevitably, betrayed his friends in order to save his own skin. Once he'd tracked down Remus and explained everything to the man, he was going to hunt down the spineless excuse of a wizard and test out just how sharp his canine teeth could be.
"Why haven't you named your dog?" Harry asked after a few moments of quiet, once they were untangled and Sirius had moved to lay by the fire and keep an eye on them.
"Wanted you to meet him, I think," she said, "If you wanted him…"
"Nope," Harry rejected it. "Your dog."
"Well then, help me name him," she insisted.
"I'm rubbish at names, Hermione," he whined. "I named my owl Hedwig."
"Hedwig was a lovely owl," she punched his arm.
"She was a lovely owl despite being named Hedwig!" He said with a wince. Sirius gave a huff of laughter, and watched as Harry couldn't contain his grin. "Name him Snuffles."
"Seems a bit macabre, doesn't it?" she questioned. "Naming him after your dead godfather."
Sirius blinked at them. He was dead? Why was he a wanted, dead man? And how was he alive in the first place? And when had he ever been called Snuffles in his entire life?
"Sirius would think it was hilarious," Harry defended. "He'd be offended if you didn't name his lookalike after him." Too true, Harry.
"What about Brutus?" She asked, humming thoughtfully.
"Padfoot," Harry insisted. Now that was more Sirius's speed.
"Julius," she said.
"Moony!" Harry shouted.
"What's with you and trying to name this dog after our dead loved ones?" She huffed. Even Moony was dead? His last hope of finding a friend. Their conversation only served to depress him.
"They were Marauders, Hermione, they'd love the joke," Harry pointed out.
"I don't see you attempting to name him after your father," she said, arching a brow and crossing her arms over he chest.
"Because he's not a deer, Hermione," Harry said with a roll of his eyes.
"Oh, fuck it, his name will be...William. William the Dog."
"William?! For a dog?" Harry shouted. "That's worse than Hedwig!"
"Well, actually help me name the bloody dog!"
"Fine!" Harry groaned dramatically and careened into her side, smushing her into the floor as she complained that he was crushing her. "What about….Hm. I like Smudge."
Hermione paused, and glanced to Sirius. "Smudge is okay."
"Smudge it is!" Harry cheered, and celebrated by casting even more of his body weight atop of her.
"Harry - " she all but wheezed. "Get the fuck off."
"Such foul language," Harry sniffed. "I don't think I shall."
Hermione managed a kick to his ribs, and he got off. Sirius snorted, settling down by the fire and watching them annoy the fuck out of each other until they laughed so hard they cried. He missed being able to do that with his own friends, but given how morose Hermione had seemed until Harry arrived, he decided that she should enjoy it while it lasted.