Lydia wakes up aching all over around noon. She spends a few minutes patting Padfoot's head but he isn't lying on top of her that morning, so she leaves the bed without having to wait for him to wake up.
She grabs the towels from where she's placed them more than a week ago and some clothes from her side to change into, heading into the shower. She sniffs the sweatshirt, flinching back at the smell of dust and humidity, embarrassed to think Sirius had to smell this all night. She puts her dirty clothes in the laundry basket and they disappear at the same second, probably ending up in front of Kreacher.
When she comes out, trying to dry her hair with the towel, she finds Padfoot resting his head on his paws, waiting for her to come out with huge eyes, tongue sticking out like he's grinning.
"That's creepy," she says, throwing the towel at his head.
He dugs his nose into the towel and starts to sniff it, his tail wagging.
"What-" she splutters and lunges for the towel, "stop that, you're going to get snot all over it."
He barks, licking the towel.
"Fucking hell," she mumbles and releases it. "You can have it. I won't use it again."
She sits across the vanity and tries to find what she needs in that clutter. She did not have time to organise these, having fallen asleep in the library last night. She wonders if Sirius carried her to bed or if he levitatated her, and tries to decide how she feels about the former.
She uncaps her moisturiser and carefully squeezes on her index finger. She dabs her left cheek first and follows clockwise, her eyes meeting Sirius' in the mirror.
"What?" she says, massaging the cream into her skin. "You are free to use anything here," she offers airily when his eyes dart around the table, his forehead creased in thought. Pressing her lips into each other to keep from smiling, she swings her hair back from her face.
"Is that a barb at the condition of my skin?" Sirius asks, hopping on the floor to go into bathroom.
"If you want to take it that way," she calls after him, laughing when he shuts the door behind him with a crack.
She goes through her usual routine, and she looks mostly like herself again when he emerges. He sits down next to her in the small chair, his breath smelling of mint. His knee digs into her thigh, like it always did back then and he rests his elbow on the desk to watch her.
She pretends not to take care of it but she feels awkward as she applies her lipstick under his unblinking gaze. She conjures a tissue to press it between her lips to get rid off excess makeup and throws it at his face.
"Are you going to keep watching me?" she demands as she reaches for her mascara.
He folds the tissue and puts it inside his pocket. Lydia's face suddenly feels hot and she tries to focus on putting on the mascara but her fingers keep trembling and she gets it all over her eyelid.
Her mouth tightens, and she takes deep, long breaths to slow down the pace of her heart. She swipes the smudge under her eye with her thumb and puts it down, knowing she'll only embarrass herself further if she tries again.
"I forgot how beautiful you are," he says. Not like he's trying to compliment her. Not like he's flirting. But like he's confessing.
She twists her body to face him, and places her hand on his knee. His thigh flexes under her palm but relaxes just as it came.
"The important thing is you remember it now," she says, and wants to smack herself for trying to joke when he's clearly trying to tell her something.
"I forget everything," he says, not taking note of her tactless comment, to her relief. His fingers close on her hand and she flips her hand to entwine their fingers.
"Ask me, then," she murmurs, squeezing his hand.
His mouth twitches but he doesn't look happy in the slightest. "Will you be here when I have questions?"
Lydia feels like he's punched her right in the middle of her sternum and she can't will herself to take a breath. Her face remains frozen, as does her brain. She's only aware of the warm fingers around her hand and the heaviness of the question but she doesn't know what the question is or if she has an answer for it.
But Sirius waits until she gets her surroundings back, patient and silent. He doesn't look angry or bitter. He only looks like he needs to hear an answer.
"I'm here now," she whispers, but it only causes Sirius to try to snatch his hand back. She doesn't allow him, and makes a decision at that point, when her fingers tighten in reflex and when she doesn't want to take it back.
She's chosen safety once, chosen to run away from war when things got too rough. And she ended up losing so many people dear to her, even though she was hiding miles away from Britain, in one of the most secure houses in France.
She is being given a second chance.
"I'll be here until we can leave this place together."
His lips part a fraction and he stays motionless for a while. He shakes it off with a loud inhale and rubs his eyes vigorously, his mouth moving soundlessly as she tries to understand what he's saying. In the end, he curses out loud and abruptly grabs her by the shoulder with his free hand and buries his face into her hair, his warm breath tickling her neck.
She brings her left hand to grasp a handful of his flimsy t-shirt, embracing him in a slightly awkward hug but her eyes snap open when she smells her own shampoo in his hair.
"Did you use my shampoo?" she whispers.
Sirius angles his head until his lips reach the corner of her jaw. She thinks she feels his teeth nipping at her flesh gently but she can't be sure. "Don't ruin the moment. I'll buy you the whole store if you want."
"I own the store," she deadpans and he sits up straight in surprise, his hand dropping from her shoulder and going to grasp at his neck .
"Since when?"
She throws her head back in a loud laugh, shrieking when he pokes her in her side.
"It's not my fault you're gullible," she says between giggles, stepping out of his reach. "Okay, stop, I'm hungry," she tries to amend, "Don't you want me to eat? I've lost so much weight in the last weeks."
Sirius rolls his neck side to side, his face screwed up in concentration as he pretends to think about it. "Well played. Go. I'll change and head down."
When she steps into the kitchen, she gasps and slaps her hand to her forehead.
"I tried to wake you up but Padfoot snarled at me," Remus says with a bashful smile, blowing on his cup. He gestures towards the table, clearly Kreacher's work, and watches her as she timidly fills her plate, still horrified she forgot about their plan to go to the university.
"I apologise," she says, refusing to look away from his eyes. "I should've gone to sleep earlier but we got carried away organising the library."
"It's alright," he shrugs, "I don't really have anywhere I need to be."
She's confused for a moment before she lets out a sound of understanding. "I see. Well, I'm sorry either way."
"I think we should be able to head there after the lunch break," he says, glancing at his watch.
Sirius' footsteps echo behind them and they strain to hear what Mrs. Black says when he passes by, but she's uncharacteristically quiet, as is Sirius.
"She's in good spirits these days," he whispers.
She snorts, spreading butter over her bread. "She loves me. Yesterday, she asked me about the wedding date. She insisted we have the ceremony right in front of her here or take the wall down to take her to ceremony."
"Oh, I remember you two always joking about that," he muses, "she wanted to have your wedding on your seventeenth birthday, didn't she?"
"She's angry we missed your thirty fourth birthday," he says, looking unbothered. "It's me she nags, not Lydia."
"Yes, you look distressed," Remus comments drily.
"Pass me the tea, dear," he says, ignoring Remus. Lydia's lips twitch but she suppresses it, and fills an empty cup.
"Here you go, darling," she says, handing the cup.
Sirius takes a tentative sip and hums, "You always know my tastes."
"I'm to your-" she starts but Remus cuts in with his hand up in the air.
"Are you ready to leave? We should arrive before the class starts."
"Right," she says, patting her mouth with a napkin. She addresses Sirius, "Do you need anything?"
"Only you back here before sunset," he winks and Remus slams his palms on the table amidst her laughter.
"Let's go," he almost shouts to be heard. She swats at Sirius' shoulder, who gives his friend an innocent look.
Lydia follows Remus out, exchanging cheerful goodbyes with Mrs. Black on her way.
It is painfully uncomfortable between them as they wait for the head of department to finish her class.
She never had much in common with Remus and they hadn't spent a lot of time together either. While they were in Hogwarts, she only saw him when she joined Sirius and after that, it became even more scarce.
How they parted in Potters' funeral also hangs in the air.
Lydia spots Lupin in her periphery, watching her and she pats Barty's coat pockets for a cigarette. Barty shoves her hands away and hands her one, lighting it with his wand.
She removes her sunglasses from her hair and puts it on, to have a barrier between them if Lupin decides to try his chances to talk to her.
"I'm going to tear him to pieces if he comes near me," she announces. Barty sighs, leaning forward to hide his face in his palms. He looks just as bad as Lydia does, jittery and on edge at every given moment, and it makes Lydia feel like an arsehole to put him through this but she'd so grateful, so dependant on Barty since she came back to England that she can't let him go.
"It's not going to get Sirius out of Azkaban, Lydia. Keep your calm."
"He said he suspected Sirius," she hisses, her fond thoughts about her best friend disappearing into thin air and Barty pinches her arm, his eyes darting around.
"Well, he did, didn't he? And no one would give a shit if he spoke for Sirius' benefit, would they? If you really want to take a swing at someone, try Dumbledore."
Lupin starts his walk towards them and Lydia resists the urge to get up and leave, sucking on her cigarette for a long time until she feels like her lungs are going to burst. He pauses a few meters away from them and Lydia holds her breath, wishing him to go away, but Barty gives him a nod next to her, encouraging him to come near.
She sends a scathing glare to Barty and stubs the cigarette on the floor, not bothering to vanish it and stretches out her hand for another one. Barty sighs loudly next to her but places it between her lips.
"I don't think I'm the right person to be in control of her smoking habits," he addresses Lupin, taking one for himself. He doesn't offer him.
Sirius was even more hopeless than Barty, when he was in charge of her cigarettes.
Lydia tilts her head back, exhaling a cloud of smoke and stares at Lupin behind that. He looks old and miserable, and she thinks, good.
"Lydia," he starts, sitting down next to her with a leap of courage.
Lydia bites back the reflexive responses and acknowledges him with a nod.
"I wanted to talk to you," he says, and like always his voice is mild and unassuming, like he's trying not to set her off. It pisses her off.
"I don't think your friends' funeral is the right place for a chat," she replies.
"Neither do I. But I couldn't find you before and I don't think I will after this if I don't talk to you now."
"And there's a reason for that, Lupin. Take a fucking hint."
He ignores her tone, the bloody Gryffindor. "I know you're trying to get Sirius out but-"
"It's not a secret," she grits out, "No one will give you a medal or an investigative job for this discovery."
He recoils a little at the mention of his fruitless attempts at job hunting but he overlooks that too. "Lydia," he mumbles, "he was the secret keeper. I know you're hurting and trust me, there's no one in the world who understands you better."
Her mouth turns into a sneer and she leans in, "He would sell you, me, Regulus and everyone else in this world out before he betrayed James, and you fucking know it."
Lupin's jaw clenches but he doesn't take a step back, awing her with his lack of self preservation. "If this is how you try to acquit him, I'm not surprised it's not working."
Lydia feels like she's been slapped but she doesn't react outside. Her mouth stretches into a pleasant smile and she ignores Barty's warning grip on her wrist.
"Is this a retaliation for Snape?" she asks, words tumbling out of her mouth like acid. Lupin's face is pure confusion at first, then he flushes bright red. He splutters, "How do you know about that? This is absurd, how can you-"
Lydia cuts him off with a careless wave around his face and springs to her feet, jerking her head for Barty to follow her.
Barty gets up without being told twice, his hand tugging at her to put some distance between them. She yanks her arm back and stares down at Lupin, who still looks indignant and upset.
"I hope it kills you," she says, her face carefully neutral, "I hope it eats you alive when the truth comes out. I hope you'll never have a peaceful sleep again, knowing you sent an innocent man to Azkaban."
Lydia tries to act casual but sometimes she finds it impossible to look into Remus' eyes. She can bet that he never mentioned this to Dora or she would've heard about it already. She feels sleazy because she's more worried about Dora's reaction to her words than Remus' feelings.
Remus is, compared to her, comfortable, among people who shun him out. He looks around in genuine curiosity, since it's probably his first time in the university building while Lydia stares daggers at anyone and everyone to avoid any non vital interaction with Remus.
"What have you done over the years?" Remus breaks the silence.
Lydia turns to him in slow motion. She thought they had an agreement not to talk to avoid unpleasantries.
"I was here and there," she says, her unease about the topic causing a flicker of anxiety in her chest but she pays it no mind. "I stayed in France for some time, with my grandmother. We had to deal with the states after Evan died. Well, grandma had been in charge in reality since Father died, and Evan didn't really do anything after he graduated anyway."
This causes Remus to smile and she gathers courage from that.
"I didn't do anything either. I signed some things. Finished my degree there after a few years. We came back two years before Felix graduated, thinking he'd stay in England but he left for Romania," she rolls her eyes.
"Molly mentioned. He worked with Charlie, right?"
"Yeah, he is mates with Bill too. They have a monthly meet up in London," she says. She grins. "The only time he gets drunk. He crashes at my place afterwards."
He laughs, an uninhibited sound, and Lydia wonders if there's a chance he's not holding grudges.
His laugh dies off, and he regards her with a thoughtful frown. "I'm happy for you."
Lydia's eyebrows go up, and she waits for him to elaborate.
Remus looks like he regrets his words but he doesn't give some unbelievable excuse for his words. "Your grandmother asked me to visit you while you were in hospital."
Lydia sighs, shifting her gaze. "I don't remember it," she confesses. "I don't remember much from that time."
"I gathered," Remus says. "She told me it was a side effect of your Occlumency."
She blows a breath, examining her boots. They desperately need a clean.
"It was much more serious than a side effect. I lost control," she explains. "I think Barty uses it now. I don't think he has more control over it more than I did. He'll snap soon. Azkaban, then Imperius," she mumbles to herself, then clicks her tongue, "he doesn't stand a chance."
He nods, "I thought that was possible. Well, good news for us."
She thinks it's a rather cruel thing to say but she doesn't object. She is aware of his gaze on her face but she doesn't give in to the urge to ask what he is thinking.
"You're worried about him," he says, a hint of awe in his voice.
She counts to ten first, telling herself to just let it go but in the end she gives a short laugh, glaring at him in indignation. "Of course I am. He's more than a passer-by in my life. He is my best friend."
"Is he still?" he asks, steel evident in his resolve.
"Yes he is," she holds her ground, "he's more than a guy who I hanged out with. I grew up with him. He's a huge part of who I am. During all of my most vulnerable years, I always knew I could count on him to be by my side. He is not Peter, Remus," she says with a finality, "he has chosen this for himself but he's never harmed me. Don't expect me to put him into same category. Don't expect me to be happy that he's about to lose his mind."
Remus' face is unreadable throughout her speech and he looks away in distance. "If you say so. I suggest you don't tell these when the others are around."
"I'm not afraid to say what I believe in, Remus," she says coldly, willing her breath to stay calm.
"You must not believe in the fight against Voldemort, then," he stretches his legs out, "because we all know you only spilled the names for Sirius. Now how can we trust you not to do the same with Crouch?"
"You should've thought about it sooner," she says, "it's a little too late, isn't it?"
"Maybe not."
"You sound like you're threatening me."
"I'm warning you not to do something to jeopardise us for Crouch, that's all."
She feels her blood turn icy in her veins. And her fingers freeze, unable to move to strange him. "Where is this coming from?"
"You once told me," he begins, with a sad curl to his lips, "that Sirius would sell all of us out for James. I'm only wondering if you'd do the same for Crouch."
"That's a good question," she breaths out mockingly, "good catch. But you'll have to wait to learn the answer to that like everyone else."
They stay in absolute silence after that.
"She resigned," Remus tells Sirius the second they see him. Sirius frowns and looks at Lydia in question.
"You did?"
"Yes. She got on my nerves."
"She got on your nerves," he repeats, dumbfounded, turning to Remus for confirmation. Remus gives a sharp gesture, taunting Lydia to draw her wand on him. She refrains only because she knows she'll lose.
"You see, my nerves were already stretched thin at that point," she says instead, with a saccharine smile aimed at Remus.
Sirius' hand goes to his mouth and he watches them glare at each other with half worry, half amusement.
"She's all yours now, since she doesn't have a job anymore. You don't need to pretend you're surprised or that you don't approve," Remus says in mocking voice, dripping with innuendo and sarcasm. "I'm sure you two will come up with a nice excuse for this other than what it is. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need some reports to write for Moody."
"You can't go anywhere," she yells after him, "I can't talk shit about you behind your back. I'm not done!"
Remus keeps marching upstairs, "Not everyone will stand at attention at your mere words, Lydia. Get used to it."
"Oh my god," she says, "He grew a backbone since I last saw him." Then her eyes fall on Sirius and she mentally chastises herself. "You can ask him what we argued about. I'm sure you'd pick his side anyway."
"Okay," Sirius says, refusing to comment either way and choosing to divert her attention. "Are you hungry?"
"Yes, but I want something greasy," she toes of her boots and throws herself on the sofa, still buzzing with irritation. "Maybe those gross Muggle pizzas. And some beer, then tiramisu."
"Okay," he says, sounding like he's asking a question, then he confesses in a rush, "I don't know how to order. Or what. Or from where."
Lydia holds back a sigh and beckons him with a finger. "Forget about it. It's better if I don't eat those anyway. I'm sure Kreacher has already prepared something."
"He's still cooking," he confirms, relief obvious on his face. Lydia wonders if she's really that high maintenance. He walks up to her and lifts her feet to sit, placing them on his lap. His fingers curl around her ankles, his thumb caressing the small sliver of naked skin there, making her shudder at the gentle touch.
"You don't have to say yes to everything I ask, you know that, right?" she asks in a low voice.
Sirius, visibly startled, looks away in discomfort for a moment, betraying his real thoughts. "I know that."
Lydia sighs and gives him a smile. "Sirius, I won't leave if you refuse to order me food when there's already some in the house or if you refuse to do something with me."
Sirius sucks her bottom lips into his mouth and watches her in silence. "I know that," he repeats, with more confidence.
Lydia puckers her lips but doesn't push it. She'll just have to be more careful about her attitude and words.
"I want you to be happy here," Sirius whispers, and Lydia almost misses it.
"Unlike you."
Sirius lets out a surprised bark of laughter but doesn't deny it.
"How can I be happy if you're not?" she asks, incredulous.
"Well, same goes for me. You're here when you don't have to be and I want you to at least enjoy yourself."
Lydia sighs, letting go of the argument but deciding to be less demanding, at least tomorrow and on the days Harry comes. Sirius reaches forward and grabs the cigarette pack, putting one between his lips. Lydia feels a pang of longing for it but averts her eyes, ignoring the smell.
"Lydia?" Sirius says, obvious from his pronunciation that he's holding it between his teeth. She opens her eyes a fraction, almost accepting it when he waves the pact in front of her face.
"No, thank you, I quitted," she forces out and closes her eyes, wringing her hands together to resist the urge to take just one.
Sirius leans forward again, her feet pinned between his thighs and his stomach and she wriggles her toes to tickle him.
"Well, technically I quitted too," Sirius says after a while. She snorts in surprise, her hand flying to her mouth like she can block it from escaping. Too late.
She doesn't see it around anymore and she raises an eyebrow in question.
"I'm not going to smoke if you quitted," he says simply.
Lydia suddenly feels overwhelmed with the waves of gratitude and affection she feels for this man and she shuts her eyes tight so he doesn't notice the tears filling her eyes.
"For Merlin's sake, Lydia," comes from an exasperated Sirius, "what made you cry now?"
She kicks him in the stomach, smiling in satisfaction when he grunts. "I do not owe you an explanation," she says as a drop finds its' way down to her neck.
Look who's surprisingly fast!
(It's my last 6 working days in this department. After this I don't ever want to enter a surgery room ever again and I will stop complaining at the end of every chapter. I just need to vent now, though. I'm about to explode otherwise.)