Well, this is a horrifically long one... But an important one! After nine loooooong chapters, we finally get to see Blanche warm up! Enjoy my loves, and PLEASE let me know what you think by commenting; it matters to me and inspires me more than anything. I love you all!

Easter Holidays, 1977

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

It took Sirius a moment to find Blanche's name on the map he held entirely unfolded in his hands—after all, she could have been anywhere. But she wasn't as far as he would have guessed. Her little feet marked in ink were located in the Prefects' Bathroom on the fifth-floor corridor between the Hospital Tower and the Clock Tower. It was a decent walk from the Gryffindor Tower, but Sirius figured she could have been walking on the borders of the Forbidden Forest—as she had before. That would have been a much farther and riskier walk.

Sirius ran most of the way, but cursed to himself when he arrived to the statue of Boris the Bewildered. The stone effigy wore a confused expression and gloves on the wrong hands. Sirius couldn't remember the password to this bathroom. James had once told him—as he had access, being captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and Head Boy—but he couldn't remember. He fumbled around in his pockets for the shard of mirror he always kept on him. Sometime in Fifth Year he and James had been drunk and accidentally cracked Sirius' mirror. The accident revealed itself as a blessing in disguise—as the shard of mirror was much more portable than the entire mirror itself.

"James!" He shouted into the mirror, looking between the mirror and the map for footsteps of Filch, Peeves, Mrs. Butternicke, or any professors. He was in the clear. James failed to respond for a moment and the mirror only reflected Sirius' face. But after calling James' name several times, Sirius managed to get a hold of him. Sirius could see Lily's orange hair on James' shoulder; Sirius wasn't surprised to see neither of them could go without seeing one another over the Easter Holidays.

"What's up, Padfoot?" James asked.

"Hi Sirius!" Lily called into the mirror. James tilted it so Lily could wave at Sirius.

"Hello Lily," Sirius greeted curtly. "Prongs, what's the password to the Prefects' Bathroom?"

"Pine Fresh, why?" James asked.

"No reason. Thinking of taking a bath," Sirius lied. "See you two next Monday!"

Sirius put the mirror in his pocket, cutting off James' voice. He glanced at the map again to see if anyone was coming—he was still safe. "Pine Fresh," Sirius said and the door to the bathroom opened slowly.

Instantly a rush of colour flew through the opened door—even in the darkness of the night. A wild braid of scents flooded into Sirius' nose once the door was ajar. He stepped into the bathroom which he had surprisingly never visited before. It was quite extraordinary. On one side were bathroom stalls—but not like those in the standard boys' and girls' bathrooms. These were set in marble and fronted with ornate brass doors depicting carved scenes of fish and sea squids. Opposite the stalls was a massive tub sunken into the ground; it was ringed with at least a hundred different taps, each decorated individually and jewelled in a unique design and metal. Along the walls above the tub were massive paintings of mermaids. The largest painting was in the centre—a fair-haired merwoman slept upon a rock sturdily set in icy waves. The light occasionally flickered across her lavender tail.

Beneath rows of towels, robes, and beauty products, and beneath the hundreds of taps, the tub was already frothed with pale blue bubbles as thick as cream. These bubbles seemed to take up most of the tub, but Sirius realised several other taps were still flowing. An arc of midnight blue soap flew into the froth, and another tap released pearly bubbles as big as globes. Sirius watched as a familiar, slender hand reached out to pop one—sending transparent feathers into the air to float downwards and descend into nothing.

"That's my favourite, you know," a pitchy voice sounding from someplace within the bubbles. "You should try the tap with the row of rubies—I love that too."

Blanche swam across the tub to turn on a tap encrusted in rubies; it expelled a sparkling stream of soap the colour of blood. When it poured into the tub and combined with the water, it transformed into a molten gold shimmering atop the pale blue bubbles.

"I quite like that one too," Blanche giggled. Sirius rarely ever heard that. Blanche turned in the pool so her face was directed towards him. Her lips parted and her brow furrowed at the sight of him in the humid room, already taking off his watch. "Sirius?"

"I saw him, but I didn't care to mention," the squeaky voice sounded again. Soon enough, the silvery ghost of Myrtle Warren was upon him. "And I'm not sure if I can deter him."

"How'd you get in here?" Blanche asked, keeping her shoulders beneath the bubbles.

"James told me the password," Sirius answered slowly, walking toward the tub with a dreamy expression on his face. He kicked off his shoes and socks as he drew closer.

"What do you think you're doing?" Blanche asked him sternly.

"You can't go in whilst she's in!" Myrtle cried, gliding around in front of him. Her authoritative scowl transformed into a flirty smile when she saw his face again. "Though, I wouldn't mind you coming back another time to get in…"

"No, I'm getting in now," he responded adamantly. He pulled his black sweater over his head and threw it behind him where it landed in a pile alongside his watch, the Marauder's Map and the Two-Way Mirror.

As he began to unbutton his shirt, a new snicker sounded through the bathroom. He followed the origin of the noise and looked up at the mermaid in the biggest painting once again, who was flicking her tail and flashing luminescent lights toward him. She was awake now.

"Oh no, not her…" Myrtle whined from behind him. But Sirius was not staved off by Myrtle nor the beautiful mermaid braiding her hair in the painting. He continued to unbutton his shirt, and shrugged it off his shoulders when he was done.

"Sirius, I'm serious!" Blanche cried desperately, moving across the tub to her pile of clothes.

"It's not really the same when you do it… Seeing you're not named Sirius, you know?" He grinned whilst he walked over to her pile of clothes and kicked them away before she could reach them—as well as her wand. "It would be greatly appreciated if you didn't wandlessly curse me, too. I think I deserve a fair chance just about now."

"You nutter!" She exclaimed, splashing a wave of gilded water toward him with her hand. He began unbuckling his belt as the water hit him and he laughed.

"That's warm! I quite like this. I should have been a prefect," he sighed. "Remus never even comes in here, you know? Probably doesn't want to please himself, the self-denying git," Sirius laughed as he pulled down his trousers and briefs in one tug.

"Christ on Earth, Sirius!" Blanche shouted and covered her eyes with her hand. Sirius heard both Myrtle and the mermaid giggle in chorus.

"Speaking of Remus," Sirius cleared his throat. He slid into the water and bubbles with surprising grace and was soon immersed in foam. He cleared some away with his hands and looked for Blanche, who was hiding in a corner with her eyes still covered. "He had some interesting things to say to me, just now. And I still say he's a self-denying git, but I should add that he's a wise, self-denying git."

Blanche finally uncovered her eyes to see him swimming toward her. It was too deep for her in the middle of the pool, so she sat on the edges where she could hold onto a golden bar that ran around the corners. "I'm naked, Sirius!"

"That's certainly not going to turn me away," Sirius laughed and she rolled her eyes, realising the truth in that. She sunk lower into the bubbles so Sirius could only see her eyes and the damp, blue-black fringe that hung over her forehead. "Anyway, Remus says I'm dumb as a doornail and reminds me that you're a human being."

"Oh—so kind of you to remember!" She finally participated in the repartee.

"I know—and I admitted to my idiocy and my thick-headedness. But that was after Remus told me about how he thought you were feeling."

Sirius was tall enough to stand in the deepest part of the pool and still be exposed from the shoulders up. Thankfully for Blanche, he stopped moving toward her when he was within a metre of her—not ideal but she had some room to breathe. Although that was limited when she infrequently met his eyes. The humidity had caused his hair to curl more tightly and a sheen of moisture to develop on his fair skin. He seemed to glow to her—just then. His eyes shone and his lips were pinker with warmth.

"And how does Remus think I'm feeling?" She mocked with a laugh.

"Well, I can't repeat what he said because it went on for a few solid minutes. But it began with torn-up and ended with hopeless… Mostly because everything is an honest train wreck for you right now, and the person who's supposed to pick up the mess is a selfish ass who only thinks about himself."

Blanche's firm expression broke for a moment—her eyes lost their harsh, icy polish and her lips softened. "I don't need anyone to pick up the mess," she stated.

"That's not true," he shook his head, taking a step closer. "And I don't care how many times you deny it, because I've been there when you can't pick it up yourself. I've seen it. You need someone. You need… me," he insisted and began to push out the words they'd been holding back for quite some time now. "Because you love me, and I love you. And you can deny it as many times as you'd like, but we love each other. I don't mean as best friends; I mean we really love each other."

Sirius waited for Myrtle's girlish giggle to run through the air, or the mermaid's womanly chuckling to sing soothingly into the echoing bathroom. He waited for Blanche to stun him wandlessly, or to run away with a conjured towel. But nothing happened.

"Say something," he urged.

"Like what?" She answered nervously.

"Anything."

"Do you know what your curse is called?" She enquired quietly, letting go of the golden bar.

"No," Sirius shook his head.

"It's called the Dry Kiss," she answered. "You can't kiss anyone with the hopes of it leading to something more. It kills physical arousal. It's my curse," she grinned minutely and secretly. She reached up to turn on a tap coated in syrupy topaz. Out flooded small amber birds that dove right into the water, turning the foam faintly yellow. The birds chirped cheerfully before their submersion into the tub. The sound reminded Sirius of spring mornings.

"I can kiss you," he remembered the words from earlier.

Blanche grinned widely. "Remus told you that. It's the nature of the curse. A weapon can recognise its master."

"That's how he knew you loved me," he replied quickly, following her as she moved to the nearest corner of the rectangular tub. "You got jealous the other day—even though you laughed at me when I suggested it."

"I wasn't jealous of Constantine," she clarified, pushing her shoulders against the tub walls.

"That wasn't what it was about," he shook his head. "It didn't have to do with Constantine. It had to do with sex."

Blanche's cheeks flooded with pink, but she sank deeper again into the bubbles so he couldn't see. "No," she denied, reaching for another tap. It was silver and dotted with mounds of opal. When it was on, a sweet fog emptied into the pool and obscured Blanche's face. He moved closer to her to see her better.

"It did. And I don't mean the actual act of it, really. It was the intimacy that made you jealous. You don't like seeing me close with anyone, because the only one you could ever be close with is me."

Blanche thought of that closeness and intimacy in the vision she'd slept into the night she'd found Sirius and Constantine—as well as the reappearances he'd been making in her dreams of late. "Maybe," she looked down at the white expanse of bubbles.

"And you made it so I couldn't be intimate and close with anyone but you. So here I am," he opened his arms, as though indicating for her to come to him finally after the years that had passed. But she grew nervous and cold again—looking away for Myrtle, who had disappeared.

"I'll un-curse you, alright?" She partially forced the misinterpretation.

"No. I don't want you to," he shook his head. His words caused her to look away from the mermaid who only watched them now. A pink smile sat on her lips.

"Of course you do. You just begged me to in the common room—"

"That was before Remus slapped some sense into me. But you're going to play fair. You know that I love you, and I know that you love me—whether you care to admit it or not. But if you want to keep up this cold castle you've got yourself locked in, then I'm not going to force you out of it. I'm not going to make you say you love me. You're going to have to realise it and say it on your own. And if you're not going to now, then I want you to remove this curse from me, because as madly in love with you as I am—it's not fair to me.

But if you tell me that you love me now and you stop hiding from me like you always have, then I don't want you to uncurse me. I will embrace this curse."

A moment of quiet wandered by, and one loose amber bird flew away from its track and soared between them with a twitter before diving into the water.

"I'm not brave like you are," she admitted, swimming away from the tub's edge. "Did you know that I'm actually very weak?"

Sirius scoffed. "You're the strongest woman I know."

"Strong castle, weak king," she said as she tried to stand on the tops of her toes. She tilted her mouth up to breathe and walk deeper into the pool.

"You're avoiding the topic," Sirius insisted.

"No, I'm not," she began and coughed as water flooded into her mouth. She was soon submerged in the bubbles before Sirius blindly grabbed for her waist, laughing as he pulled her upward. "Thanks."

"How are you not avoiding the topic?"

Blanche moved to another tap—which Sirius thought wasn't the brightest idea as the bubbles were already reaching the bathroom stalls. This tap was only gold with no adorning jewels or designs; Blanche cupped her hand under it and took a fistful of the emerald substance that dripped out. She turned off the tap and began massaging the soap into her hair.

"And I hate it when you make fun of virginity. It's not my fault I don't know how to make sex into nothing like you," she answered. She dunked in the water and washed the soap out.

"Okay, I get that. I shouldn't do that," he said when she reemerged and bit the inside of his lip. "Now will you stop procrastinating?"

"And when you asked me if you could come stay at my house when you ran away, I was afraid my dad would kill you. That's why I said no. I wish I could've said yes. You would have had the spare bedroom beside mine—it shares a bathroom," she smiled sadly, then looked at him with watery eyes. "You don't know how bad I felt when I refused you."

"It's alright—I forgive you. But I don't think he would have killed me. I'm your best friend—blood traitor or not."

"He's done it before," a tear leaked down her cheek. She wiped it aside with a knuckle and swam away before Sirius could close in on her and question her on this further. She cleared the sorrow from her voice. "And I write you double the amount of letters during the summer than those I actually send. Every other letter I throw away because I don't want you to know how much I miss you. Also, I'd probably kill Sulwen."

"What are you doing? I'm horribly confused," he shook his head. "And that's so sweet, but I'd really like it if you stayed on track. I adore the mindless ramblings you so often keep to yourself, but I beg of you."

"No one's ever called me sweet, I don't think," she muttered. "And you really are dumb as a doornail."

"Pardon?"

"I'm not hiding anything. These are my secrets," she whispered, looking around for Myrtle before eyeing him. "I've loads of them. Do you want to know another?"

"Yes, of course, but I—"

Then she was underwater and Sirius couldn't even see her swimming around beneath the bubbles. He tried to feel out for her but received nothing; he was partially glad for this, for if he'd grabbed something private, she would not have reacted well.

A large splash sounded from behind him and two forearms wrapped around his shoulders. His brows shot upward at the sensation of her round, small breasts against the space between his shoulder blades. He turned his head abruptly as the sensation and looked at her. She was smiling at him brightly—there was an ease on her face that he couldn't ever remember seeing before, and he could already feel the lack of effect of the curse when it met its caster.

"And I can do this," she said with a mouth full of water. Then she shot out a thin, sharp stream from the small space between her front teeth. The water hit him in the eyes and he laughed, squinting. "And I love you. I have for a very long time, too."

The grin on Sirius' face dropped to a purely happy smile. He extended his neck to press his lips to hers when she did the same, and they met in a familiarly domestic kiss. Both were warm and slightly soapy, but the kiss remained the same—pleasant, soft, and honest. She pulled away from him and brushed her finger across his mildly scratchy cheek, as he hadn't shaved for two days.

"What does this mean I have to do for you?" She enquired, the happiness wilting slightly but a smile remaining.

"Nothing."

"What—you don't want me to… I don't know… do things—" She forced out.

"You don't even have to hold my hand, if you don't want to. All I want you to do is… let me carry some of your burdens for you. Just be honest with me."

The smile resurfaced like a buoy that'd been kept underwater. "Thank you, Sirius. I love you."

The words from her mouth made his blood feel like warm sugar in his veins. A massive smile split his face in two. He took one of her hands that was hanging onto his shoulders and planted a kiss in the warm centre of her palm. "I love you too."

She kissed the pronounced ball of his jaw in response, then departed from her embrace. "Do you want to see what each of the taps does?"

Moaning Myrtle eventually returned, diving into the water and circling around Sirius. She would giggle every time she came back up—blushing at what she saw under the water. Meanwhile Blanche was someplace hidden in the bubbles that now consumed the entirety of the bathroom. The mermaid above was singing something rather lovely about a castle under the sea.

The pyramid of towels on a shelf below the mermaid was fully enveloped in bubbles by the time Blanche decided to dry off, but a charm had been placed on them so that they didn't grow damp. Sirius couldn't see her as she got out of the tub and wrapped herself in a towel, but he did hear Myrtle ask where she was going.

"Abullabos," she casted, and the bubbles began to simmer away slowly. "Lily taught me it," she gladly informed him.

The water was clear by the time the bubbles all disappeared, but Sirius was concealed by the darkness of the deep waters. He finally saw her again sitting on the ledge with her already waterlogged feet hanging into the pool. She was wrapped in a towel and was drying her hair with another slowly.

"There's a charm for getting rid of bubbles?" Sirius enquired, placing his hands on the marble floor beside her hips and placing his chin on her knees.

"There's a charm for everything," she answered.

"Do you make any charms yourself?"

"Just hexes and jinxes and light curses. Charms are too hard and far too dangerous—they're immediate action and only reversible with a counter-charm. Jinxes, hexes, and curses aren't hard to erase, but charms are different."

"You could make them if you wanted to though, couldn't you?" He asked her, moving to hold her towel-clad hips lightly. It wasn't a touch of seduction—he just liked having physical contact with her, and he didn't have to hide it anymore.

"I suppose," Sirius nodded against her leg and rested a cheek upon the top of her lower thigh. "Do you think I'm… uncomfortable?"

Sirius looked up with a furrowed brow. "Sorry?"

"Like, physically. One time Lily crawled in my bed because of a nightmare and the next day she said sleeping with me in a bed was like sleeping with a pile of rocks and sticks," she pursed her lips.

Sirius laughed loudly—partially at Lily's comment but mostly at Blanche self-consciousness, which he'd not ever head her voice before. He could hardly believe a girl as beautiful as her had even a shred of physical insecurity. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not really sure. Do you think it's true?"

"Absolutely not," he instantly responded. She was angular and could be rather stiff, but when he worked her right she could curl up like a soft and warm little kitten. He'd seen it before, when she was drunk or tired and slumped onto his shoulder or lap.

"You're just saying that," she looked at him doubtfully, then drew her legs out from the pool and from under his chin.

"Blanche!" He laughed loudly, hoisting himself out of the tub. She turned at his voice but instantly shied away.

"Sirius!" She gasped, covering her eyes. Myrtle giggled long and highly, circling around him in delight. The mermaid's song picked up with a titter. Still not bothering with a towel, he walked over to her and wrapped his wet arms tightly around her.

"You're not bony or uncomfortable," he grinned and tightened his grip on her.

"Put a towel on, you swine!" She cried, worming away from his touch.

"Do you believe me?" He insisted.

"Fine!" She cried.

"Good," he nodded. "Can I have a kiss?"

"I thought you weren't going to make me do anything!"

"Well, if you really don't want to…" he shrugged. "It was just a request—"

Blanche placed a fast kiss on his lips. "Put on a towel!"

Late April 1978

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Blanche quite liked watching Sirius practice nearly every evening of the week. She told Lily she was studying—which she was doing, somewhat—and watched from one of the seats closest to a black-and-white stand. She often brought a thick blanket with her and sat on the floor of the seats, using her lap as a surface to write on.

Every night after they'd finished practicing at six o'clock, Sirius would shower speedily then sneak out of the bathrooms before James realised he was gone. He'd find Blanche putting her full attention into her work now that he'd left the fields, and often had to shake her out of her studious trance. Today, however, she had fallen asleep on the floor of the stands—an especially uncomfortable place to rest.

Blanche's sleeping face was tucked into her upper arm and one hand was still loosely gripping her quill. Her scarlet and gold Gryffindor blanket was wrapped around her head and only her face was visible within the cradle of warm wool.

Sirius knelt before her and watched her for a few moments—a considerable weight on her face appeared to be relieved in sleep. He would have liked to watch her sleep more than he did—she looked the most beautiful in the peace of a dream. Her full lips were parted slightly and the colour of watered wine.

Sirius, however, had to wake her so she didn't get frostbite on the exposed parts of her. The blankets provided by the common rooms were deceptively warm—they were charmed to heat their wearer and create the illusion of a hot and comfortable atmosphere.

"Blanche," he said her name and removed the quill from her hand. He wrapped it in his own and warmed it with a few kisses to her fingers. She released a tired and muffled sound against her arm. He repeated her name more loudly.

"Mmm?" She mumbled against her arm and tilted her head so it fell onto her homework. At the sensation she jolted up and cursed at the coldness in her face and hands. "Damn it."

"I know. You have to be careful with these," Sirius warned as he tucked her hands into his own robes.

"No, it's not that… This essay is due next Wednesday," she whined and looked at the single paragraph she had written.

"That's in a week," Sirius' brow dropped.

"Exactly," she groaned, but rolled up the parchment. "I've got to go finish this," she yawned, trying to stand.

"Oh, come on, Blanche!" Sirius cried, helping her to her feet. "Let's go out."

"I'm cold," she argued, but Sirius only reacted by hugging her tightly and forcing her to bury her face within his robes.

"And you know what will warm you up?" He asked.

"The common room—"

"The Three Broomsticks—" they spoke simultaneously. Blanche pulled away and looked at him with a tired, vacant expression. He grinned at her from above. "Come on—it'll be fun. A bit of good old Sirius and Blanche rule-breaking."

"That's such a hike," she grimaced. "We'd have to walk back to the school, go to the Serpentine Corridor or the mirror on the fourth floor, or walk all the way to Hogsmeade—"

"Or," Sirius held out his arm. "We could Apparate."

"You can't Apparate on school grounds."

Sirius grinned widely. "You're right… We can't Apparate on remembered school grounds…"

Blanche sighed. "I reckon know's the time I furrow my brows and ask myself—what have Sirius and James figured out this time?"

"You're clever, young Blanche. But not enough, it appears, as you are still unaware of the Forgotten Grounds."

"The Forgotten Grounds?" Blanche repeated. From sneaking around the school after hours, Blanche had a pretty keen idea of what the Hogwarts grounds looked like and consisted of. However, she had no recollection of the Forgotten Grounds. "What are those?"

"Perhaps this is why they're called the Forgotten Grounds," Sirius sighed and pulled her forward with him. He rolled up her parchment for her and led her down the stands, toward the scoring area, then down into the structural support beneath the stands closest to the goal baskets. She's never been down this deep into the pitch and—in fact—hadn't even known it was there. Or perhaps… she'd forgotten. Were these the grounds he spoke of?

But Sirius eventually pulled up the coloured hangings that hung from the wooden beams, allowing her to exit the interior of the stands. Before she stepped out, she examined the flap of material was lightly scratched with ink reading: 'TO GROUNDS FORGOTTEN, where only memories prevail.'

"Always one for theatrics, aren't you Sirius?" She hummed, stepping out of the opening in the fabric. She looked around her and was surprised to see something entirely unexpected. There were two stone pillars connected with a rusty gate, and beyond that a gnarled stretch of weed. She pursed her lips and tried to envision the Quidditch pitch from a bird's eye view, but figured her memory was poorer than she'd originally thought as she couldn't ever remember this area existing.

"Confused, Blanche?" Sirius snidely remarked behind her. He approached the crusted lock on the gate. Blanche heard it unlock after Sirius simply said: "I'd like you to unlock, please."

"Where are on earth are we?" Blanche urged as she followed Sirius into the tangled grasses. She looked around to see some sign of attention to the yard, as a Puffapod patch sat alongside one of the stone pillars on the inside. Signs of inattention fought this, however, when Blanche also spotted an overgrown Venomous Tentacula at the opposite corner and an infestation of Horklumps scattered across the weeds.

"We're in the Forgotten Grounds. They're nonexistent to anyone who's forgotten them," Sirius finally explained. Blanche looked for any other signs of life, but saw that the stone pillars only continued down the yard and disappeared into a wood so thick she was unsure if she could even step into it. "We can Apparate here."

"How's that?" Blanche enquired.

"This is the only place in the Hogwarts grounds where the Anti-Disapparition Jinx isn't in effect."

"And, again, how's that?"

"Well, no one really knows which Headmaster put the jinx upon the school—but there was one that removed the jinx just in these grounds so her favourite students could Disapparate for Dogweed and Deathcap in Hogsmeade whenever they liked. Her students planted that Tentacula, in fact. Can you guess which headmistress it was?"

"A headmistress with a knack for herbology, you say?" Blanche sighed in thought, mentally reviewing her many tests on Hogwarts, A History. "Dilys Derwent was a healer, possibly her. Better guess would be Phyllida Spore, but she lived in the fifteenth century."

"The latter. Making that wretched Tentacula roughly six hundred years old. Five hundred and fifty years too long, if you ask me."

The Venomous Tentacula snapped one of its appendage-like branches and bit the air with its grotesque, misshapen mouth. Blanche pulled Sirius aside by the sleeve to ensure they would miss its poison if it decided to shoot.

"And how've you remembered this place?" Blanche asked.

"Believe it or not—Peter. Don't tell him I told you this but he has quite a talent for herbology. Always reading up on it. A few months ago he bought a book called The Herbological History of Hogwarts, and read the rumours about this place. Took us all a while to figure out how to get to it, but it's a pretty easy way of Disapparating without having to go to Hogsmeade first. Suppose it comes in handy when you're at the pitch with someone too lazy to go back to Hogwarts and take the secret passageway to Hogsmeade."

"Shut up," she rolled her eyes. "Why am I just now hearing about this?"

Sirius shrugged. "We all just got it working. Wanted to make sure it wasn't a dud before showing you," he said, clearing his throat after he inadvertently admitted his desire to impress her.

"Alright then," she nodded. "You or me?"

Sirius held out her arm and she grabbed it, then was torn into the irritatingly nauseating torrent of Apparition. Her stomach heaved when her feet met the snowy floor of High Street.