Updating all my favourites today!
akagami hime chan: Thank you! That BDSM part made me nervous to post for a second and then I was like, but why not? Sounds funny to me.
Guest 4: Tahdaaaah? Sorry I've been so late, it's been a sirius drag, right? eeeh? Get it? Yeah. Kinda have to be a dork to even write stuff like this then go "yup. I like it." I've always thought of Sirius as slightly flirty but hopefully he'll be back to his regular self sometime soon! :)
Have you ever been in a situation, where you're talking to someone and it's all going fine? But, then they say something and you're pretty sure that out all the things you were expecting them to say, that wasn't it? So you just sort of...say the first thing that comes to mind?
"Ever noticed how Azkaban sounds sorta like ass-kah-ban?"
A second of silence ticked by and so I somehow continued down this path of slowly burying myself alive.
"Who would ban arses though?"
There ya go, Winnie. Just pile on one more shovel of rocks onto your coffin because that'll definitely help you get out of this.
"They're so useful! You can sit on them," I held up my hand to try and count all the uses of arses I could possibly think of in this painfully awkward moment.
"Slide on them, close doors with them," two more fingers went up.
I swallowed down the lump of insecurity that threatened to turn into bright red ears as my companion just stared at me. His face was entirely unreadable to me, like a great big void that I just kept staring into for some bloody reason.
"Dance with them, eat them." Another two went up, now I had a full hand and I just couldn't seem to stop myself from talking right now.
"Though-the last two are more personal preferences." I wiggled my pinkie and ring finger to demonstrate exactly which two I was talking about, as though he couldn't tell from the description I'd given him about a second ago.
"I've never tried-but don't cock it 'till you've tried it, right?" I nodded to myself like that was a great bit of personal wisdom-like I wasn't just flailing for time or-
"Don't knock it." I blinked, realising that he'd just spoken, "huh?" My mouth hung open slightly, unsure if I'd heard him right or if I'd somehow begun hearing things.
"The saying you just butchered-it's don't knock it, until you've tried it." I blinked at him again, noting that he'd begun sort of smiling. It wasn't the awkward teeth baring one, this one had a dimple appearing on the right side of his dry, cracked lips.
"Close enough." I shrugged, eyeing the dimple above his lip with mild interest as it was a new piece of information on his many expressions.
"Did you know you've got a dimple?" I pondered aloud, raising my hand to point right where it was on him, "it's just there."
"You have absolutely no sense of danger, do you?" His tone was wry. Almost condescending sounding, but I'd noticed that his hand did, in-fact, come up to touch where I'd been pointing at on his face.
"Should I?" I raised a brow, letting my hand drop down to my lap and turning my gaze back up to his eyes.
"What do you think?" He simply reposed the question back to me with a hint of a tremor in his voice and I stared at him for a moment.
We'd fallen into a series of word games apparently, saying all the things that we didn't really want to say. I actually hated word games, especially since Dora beat me in Scrabble when we were 16. She never let me forget about it, and I never missed the opportunity to completely derail the conversation if she brought it up.
He had a tendency to redirect questions he didn't want to answer. Why wouldn't he answer them? Well, if he were a genuine murderer, wouldn't he at least own the fact that he was one? But, he hadn't done so very happily. He could be a murderer-as in he could murder a plate of tacos, and that was about it.
He seemed nervous saying that I hadn't a bit of sense in my head-which was 100% right. I was making conversation about arses whilst being in the company of a man from Azkaban. With that in mind, I elected to accept his reluctance to answer as a sense of insecurity or fear that I'd somehow twist this back onto his character.
In the back of my mind, I knew that I wasn't making the smartest decisions ever. That I ought to seriously reconsider being in a cave with a man that'd been in Azkaban for 12 years, much less sleeping around him.
Danger.
That's what that '12 years in Azkaban' told me and I knew that entirely. But...I'd also just slept near him. I'd seen how thin his skin seemed to be, how gaunt he looked, and how much he'd panicked at the possibility of going back. I'd even listened to him crying out for someone named James for half of the bloody night.
I'm sure that there were plenty of murder victims that felt rather at ease right up until they'd died, so I wasn't counting myself to be infallible. Instead, I just accepted that I didn't get a sense of danger when I looked into his eyes. I got a sense of overwhelming sadness and fear.
"I don't think so," I declared without much interest left in this conversation as I stood up fully.
I sort of wanted to know who James was, but I'd had quite enough talk of implicitly discussing emotional wounds. My legs hurt from sitting for so long and it didn't seem like I'd get much more out of him, so I elected to end the conversation...by leaving. It was efficient, okay? Maybe not kind or smooth, but efficient.
I bent down, trying to stretch out the tightness in my hamstrings, "maybe you should, though."
I continued to stretch for a moment, considering his odd little warning that he was somehow dangerous to me. This seemed rather silly considering I'd already said my two pence, so I just picked up my wand and stood up again with a small sigh.
"Quite honestly? I think there's a great more many things to be afraid of than whatever you did in the past." I nodded at him, turning to head towards the cave's entrance.
My stomach grumbled and I frowned as I came to a stop by the cave's entrance, "like starving to death." Should have eaten the rest of that omelette this morning.
"Are you coming or shall I just bring the food back here?" I turned my head slightly to peer at him over my shoulder. He hadn't moved from his spot against the wall since I'd stood, "yoo-hoo, Mr Homeless man?"
"My name's Serious." He declared as I raised a brow, weird thing to name a kid. Though, I'd been named Morwenna for crying out-lou-"like the star."
"Ah. That makes more sense." I nodded as he stood, dusting off his arse and legs.
Wow, Winnie.
I'm an idiot, aren't I? He's a bloody wizard, and I somehow didn't connect 'serious' to the literally brightest star in the night sky. It was Astronomy 101, honestly. I siriously need to learn to think better, eh? Heh. That one was good.
"This opens up so many avenues." I mumbled, continuing on my way out of the cave.
"Hm?" I glanced at my companion as he came to a stop next to me, peering at me.
"I said, this siriously opens up so many avenues." I pursed my lips, watching as his face immediately fell into one that said he was absolutely done with my puniness right now.
"Wow."
"Sorry." I tried my best not to crack, but I couldn't help it when he just shook his head and sighed, making me burst into a series of giggles that ranged from mad cackling to muted chortles.
"I-I'm sorry."
I glanced away from a rather excited Hippogriff I'd been watching to look at the homeless guy I'd come to know as Sirius. He looked quite distraught, though incredibly sincere in his apologies. As though my parent's deaths had anything at all to do with him. Everyone said sorry when my parents came up, but it just was what it was.
"Ish oakey," I nodded at him with a mouth full of corn tortilla and chicken in my mouth that I almost choked on as I tried to speak. I coughed at the feeling of a bit of chicken blocking my windpipe and tried to both chew faster as well as not keel over right now.
"You okay?" Sirius's hand came up from the bit of rock and dirt between us while my eyes watered and I continued to cough some more. The shredded bits of chicken and tortilla had been mashed together in my mouth, but a few slipped behind my tongue, making me panic a little.
"Hey, Win. Lean over." His hand closed the distance, trying to urge my shoulders and back away from the rock we'd been leaning against. Alright, Winnie-try to bloody chew your food right and swallow before you open up your gob.
"Come on," he sounded soothing, but at the same time-the idea that him of all people, trying to be soothing right now terrified me. Yet, my own hand, decided it'd be best to give him a thumbs up while I almost died sitting here.
Though as my face started to feel like it was on fire and the snot kept pouring from my nose, I figured why not? What'd I have to lose by doing what he said right now?
My lungs gave one more great big hacking noise before whatever had slipped down the wrong pipe came back up. Oh, thank you, whatever being was looking out for me. I know my gran had said that my mum believed in a Jesus fellow, so I'll just give him a bit of thanks too.
I sucked in a deep breath of air after I'd swallowed the remains of my previous mouthful down, "whew." I coughed once more and let out a deep sigh, I can't seem to do much of anything right today, can I?
"Sorry about that." I felt a light pat in-between my shoulders, so I didn't lean back all the way in case I'd wind up accidentally trapping his hand against the rock.
He didn't say anything else and his hand lingered for a few seconds, so I just focused on watching his Hippogriff. It'd trot from one side of the cliff, sniff around a bit, then walk to the other-side and sniff over there.
I sort of understood why my mum might have found them so interesting. They were creatures of manners and honour-somehow. I'd had to do this weird sort of dance thing with it when we'd first met, officially I mea-
"I am sorry about your parents," he mumbled as his hand retracted.
Ah, yes. That was how this whole thing started, wasn't it? My da was Benjy Fenwick, a serious member of their team to fight against Voldemort. Every time I met someone new and the topic of parents came round, it was always the same. 'Sorry for your loss', 'that's awful', or my favourite: 'good on 'm, dying like that for us.'
"It's not your fault." I shrugged it off to lean back against the wall. That last one had been Moody after I'd asked why they'd had to go away.
"I know, but-" he started again and I silenced him with a click of my tongue. "There's no but's about it. He died. You didn't kill him, did you?" I raised a brow as I glanced at him from the side.
"Well, no. But, I-" My tongue clicked again, but this time my hand rose to flick his side-it wasn't hard. I just wanted to send a message.
"Win," he grounded, annoyed. "I'm just saying that I'm so-" I flicked him on the nose this time. Good grief, the man didn't know when to stop, did he?
"Fine." He gave a sound similar to a 'Harumph' produced by a toddler that'd been chastised but didn't feel all that sorry about it.