sorry, this one seems to have taken me a day and forever to get around to writing. I've actually been expected to work... at work (imagine the audacity!)and have had to put this on the back burner.
but here it is. More shnanagans and the plot will resume next chapter... whenever I get around to that.
Not being able to pass the wards around Malfoy Manor (as they had been specifically rafted to not allow for Sirius Black to cross them) he found himself trotting around and quivering with excitement whenever a visitor would come. As the strangers, who more often than not were other purebloods, would come to visit their colleges, Sirius would be granted unlimited access to their private conversations. No one minded the lurking black dog at their feet. They were limited and bias windows to the world that he had been pulled from two years prior, but it was better than nothing.
He quickly grew weary of Narcissa's conversations of clothing styles and bedroom tips, but Lucius always seemed to have the most interesting company. Death Eaters came and went with no word as to where their Dark Lord hand gone. Businessmen came with briefcases filled with sickles and gems, or suspicious looking magical items that Sirius would bet were illegal. Charity collectors came during the holiday months and, much to Black's surprise, Lucius was oddly giving. Witches Without Wands received almost four hundred galleons and even Narcissa looked surprised by the charity.
"Tax deductions." Lucius replied sweetly kissing her fingertips. Though Sirius had suspicions that it mostly had to do with the family trying to recover face in the wizarding world with Voldemort gone and the Malfoys no longer Death Eaters.
Truly, Sirius' favorite guests were not the charity collectors, but the tailors. The two brothers were at the Manor at least once a week for fittings and measurements and other little alterations that were seemingly pointless. Whether or not they knew of the forbidden fantasies that passed through Lucius' eyes after they left, remained a mystery to Sirius; but the whole event, from their arrival to the quiet, cold showers Lucius took after their departure, filled the black dog with endless entertainment.
Sirius kept the 'problem' a secret, just as Narcissa did, more or less. The thought that such a high standing, proper sort of man could be so overwhelmed by un-satiated lust, tickled him. Sirius himself had fancied a bloke or two (or twelve) in his own time, so to say that he found Lucius' preferences as amusing as he did would be to say that Sirius Black was a little something of a hypocrite.
Sirius Black was many things, but a little hypocritical, no. He was a large hypocrite and as such found himself scheming ways to out Lucius in public. He blamed his years at Hogwarts with nothing better to do with himself than play cruel and unusual pranks on unsuspecting prats like Lucius. With the large age gap between them, Sirius had missed out on all opportunities to shame the older man back when they were in school, and Sirius (in his increasing cabin fever) had intentions to make up for so many lost years.
It started one soggy, winter morning after Sirius had had a full run of the Manor for almost four months. It was a Thursday, and Sirius had never truly gotten the hang of Thursdays, but with Lucius out of the house for the whole day on business to the Isle of White, he could hardly pass up the chance. Draco, like a determined little puppy, followed Sirius around the house, up the stairs, through his parent's overly large bedroom and into Lucius' dressing room. The whole journey took longer than necessary, but with Draco's short toddler legs not always doing what he asked of them, they had been forced to take a few breaks and detours. As the child busied himself with trying on his father's expensive, dragon skinned shoes, Sirius nosed through the two score of suits that hung neatly on the seemingly endless racks. There he found his prize.
It should be noted that despite the wide array of suit in Lucius' possession there was very little color variation. Black, charcoal grey and the barest hints of silver or green were what dominated the expansive closet, but tucked into the back corner, probably not touched or thought about since its creation in the mid seventies was a relic of wizarding fashion that had not seen the light of day in at least a decade. It was so painfully 'stylish' it was glorious and Sirius knew that it would be perfect for the Malfoy's Christmas masquerade.
Ignoring Draco's yelp of surprise, Sirius found his human form. It had been months since he left Azkaban, months since he had the evolutionary miracle of thumbs. He stretched and grinned at Draco, holding one long finger over his lips, asking silently for the boy to keep quiet. He slipped out of his old, tattered clothes from Azkaban and stretched. It felt amazing to be full sized again. He paused, kicking aside the old prison uniform, and looked at his reflection in the expansive wall mirrors. The few months of regular feeding and baths and chasing the young Draco had done wonders for his body. No longer was he a straggly mad man covered in filth from his imprisonment. He was lean, with still only a shadow of his former muscle definition, but fit. His dark hair was silken, falling in short waves around his pale face.
He grinned at his striking self and slipped into the retro suit. Draco was laughing and tugging on him, but that was normal.
"I don't know if I've ever seen a suit this… bloody awful." He scooped up the small child awkwardly, letting the boy experimentally touch Sirius' well trimmed facial hair. "Did your dad loose a bet?"
"Father?" He chirped in his soft voice, looking from side to side as if expecting to see the man, but his attentions focused quickly back on the man holding him. "My dog." He patted Sirius' cheeks and seemed satisfied. "I wanna' ride." And he pointed at the ground.
"Alright." He had spent long enough admiring himself, or at least he had spent as long as he dared. Narcissa could come looking for them any moment. He shifted back down to his furrier form, the suit morphing with him. It was a successful theft and he was now ready for the Christmas party. He ducked his head low in an almost bow to his small and demanding master and let the boy clumsily clamor onto his long narrow back.
The discarded uniform was tossed into the closest fireplace he could find and all that was left was to wait until Christmas eve and he could move into phase two of his plan.