Their sort-of-break had done her well. Kind of. She missed him dearly, but cherished her alone time. It had been a while since she managed to be on her own, between classes and study groups and friends and all that snogging. Now that they were approaching Easter, professors let them students lay down for a bit, leaving some unusual free time for her, so used to squeeze all her engagements together all the time.

She went to Hogsmeade with Lanie, her Potions' partner, and Marine, who happened to have a crush for Lanie for ages – that was actually awkward; did a rewatch of The Rocky Horror Picture Show with her roommates, much to Sylvie's dismay, who had quite a dislike for musicals. And danced to the Time Warp, also to Sylvie's dismay. She caught up with the Ferrars twins that had been busy as hell with their Quidditch matches and N.E.W.T.s duties, and read more then she did in an entire term.

It had been some busy months. But honestly, she couldn't wait to get home for Easter holidays. Her sister Liane had gotten married the year before to a man she had known at work, a decent man actually, and was now pregnant with her first child. Apparently, she was due just after the Easter festivities, somewhen around the end of April, and Kit was honestly thrilled to spend some time with her big sister before she became a full time business woman and mother.

They had always been joined to the hip, as her father said, even if Liane was nine years older than her, and since she got married Kit felt they'd got a bit distant, but that wasn't nobody's fault. She was at Hogwarts the whole year, and Liane had a job in Diagon Alley that kept her quite busy.

To be fair, she didn't even expect her to become a wife and a mother so early – she was twenty-five and always seemed a bit adverse to the whole marriage thing. But then she had met this Benjamin guy at work, and fell over the moon for him. That was a first for her sister. She'd never been in love seriously in her life, and from what she told her in confidence, Ben cherished her in every possible way. Which she was glad to know, but actually shuddered at thought of her sister having wild sex with her husband.

In the meantime, her father had told her in a letter he had met someone new. His words betrayed his fear of her being disappointed or annoyed at it, but she was actually happy for him. He already had tried to be in a relationship with a woman that wasn't her mother, after their divorce, but it had been almost ten years ago and at the time she felt it like a betrayal to her mother, that she used to idolize, and he had called it quits after some time anyway. This round, instead, it seemed quite the serious thing, so he said. She truly hoped it was. He deserved it.

Anyway, they were approaching Good Friday by now, and she and Sirius still didn't hang out together anymore. It had been almost a week. And in two days she would have been on a train towards home, away from his sight for two weeks. She didn't know where they stood, honestly, but she had seen him interacting in a stiff but civil way to his historic friends, so she supposed they had come to terms with Sirius' actions, and were slowly welcoming him back among them.

She was ruefully brooding over those thoughts over her bowl of milk at breakfast, sorrounded by a quiet background noise – mostly Phoebe soft snoring on Ava's shoulder, Sylvie's whispering something to some guy beside her, a couple french kissing some seats ahead. Nothing different from usually. Nothing, but a letter that a random owl delivered her, making it fall on her head.

"You always get the clumsiest owls, Kit" Marine laughed beside her. Kit chuckled.

"Just my luck" she joked, before focusing on the paper in her hand. It was a letter from her mother. That was strange, since she had received one just two days before where she asked whether she preferred to stay at her house or her fathers' during the holidays. She didn't expect a reply.

And later, how hard she desidered she never got that reply.

Liane is not with us anymore…There was an attack… In Diagon Alley… The baby didn't make it… Please come home.

The letter was actually quite longer than that, but she couldn't make out the useless information her mother her given her, her mind was buzzing and she sensed an irregular thump thump thump in her mind and wrist and heart. Dead. Liane was dead. Her sister was no longer. Kit felt the bile up her throat, her eyes were blurred, the noise around her became from comfortable to unsufferable.

"Kit?"

Dead. Her Ani – she used to call her that all the time when she was five years old, had left the world for good. Her nephew never saw the light. Both gone. Forever. Kit tried to get up, but her mind was elsewhere, thoughts raising and fighting and crying for attention.

She accidentally poured over the table her bowl of milk, spilling it all on the table.

"What the hell?" someone said sounding quite angry. But she couldn't care less.

"Kit?" someone called around her. She shook her head, scrunching the letter between her hands, leaving it on the table. She had to throw up. She had to leave. Too many people. Suffocating. She was suffocating.

"Oh my God. Kit? Kit, come back here! Kit!"

Ten minutes later she was near by the Black lake, throwing up her breakfast on the soft meadowes. Her throat was in flames, but the pain helped her. A little distraction. No one would ever call her "Kit-kat" anymore. No one would ever send her beautiful and long letters at the beginning of every month anymore. But the more she repeated this to herself, the more she thought how hard it was to believe. Her sister had always been healthy. Why, why, why it happened? Why to her? The loveliest woman she'd ever met? The kindest? The brightest? Why?

"Kitty" a voice called behind her. She didn't need to turn to know who it was. There was just one person who called her like that. She didn't want him there. Not in that moment. She wanted Liane and Liane only.

"No" she shook her head with a violence she didn't know she had, heard the unpleasant cracking of the bones in her neck. The pain was helping again. Good.

"Kitty, Sylvie made me read the letter" Sirius said, his voice soft and lovely, sounded like he was talking from another whole planet. But she didn't want it. Nothing could ever be lovely again in the world she was in.

"Please, leave" she screamed, burning her throat. Pain. Pain. Pain.

"I can't"

Kit sobbed unevenly, her cry turned in an heavy hiccupping. She heard Sirius move around her, grazing lightly her right arm. She winced, but let him touch her. The boy knelt beside her, enveloping her shoulders with both his hands. Kit struggled in his hold, gasping for air.

"Please, Sirius. Leave" she cried, smacking her palms on his chest. He had always been so strong.

"We're here, Kit. We're here" he murmured to her, his lips touched lightly her ear. She relaxed slightly at his words. He kept whispering with a gentle tone, though she couldn't actually catch all of his words. He kept telling her I'm here, we're here. Her arms slacked against his body, head falling in the crook of his collarbone. They were there. We're alive, he meant. You're alive.

"You're fine, love. You're fine" he kept telling her, pressing feather kisses on her forehead. She abandoned herself on him, crying quietly on his shirt. Sirius' fingers caressed the nape of her neck, whispering sweet nothings to calm her.

She focused instead on the rapid beating of his heart. She did that whenever they slept together. It made her think almost lucidly. Du-dum. Du-dum. Du-dum. You're alive. Du-dum. I'm here. Du-dum. You're fine. Du-dum.

Yeah, almost.

She went home that same evening. Her house felt like a prison that night. Her mother was a crying mess. Her father too. Ben as well. And Kit didn't know what to do, not in the slightest. Liane would have known what to do. She always had.

They updated her on the circumstances of the death. There had been a terroristic attack in Diagon Alley, lead by some fucking creeps that went by the name of Death Eaters. Apparently it was a group of people keen on purity of blood and all that shit. They had even a leader, who called himself Voldemort. It was the first time she heard that name, and the sound alone made her shiver. They had picked on her sister too because she was an Half-Blood.

According to what she was told, she wasn't even the main target, but they found she was there, wrong time and wrong moment, and thought that an Half-Blood less was always good. It wasn't the first time something like that happened.

She had read of attacks against entire families of Muggles in the papers. And felt bad, because she had never gave it an actual thought before the moment she knew how her sister died. She didn't think she'd ever felt so angry before in her life. Never, not even once.

The days spent with her parents and brother-in-law were a blur in her mind. She recalled so much fighting and screaming and moaning her head hurt just thinking about it. She didn't remember quite well the funeral.

She had gulped five glasses of his father's gin and followed her parents and Ben with mind hazy and her lips trembling for the cold and the stress and the nostalgia, oh, God, how she missed her. Ben was supposed to give a speech, but he wasn't in the right state of mind. Nobody was, but everybody seemed to forget he had lost his wife and son in a night. He had hoped in a bright future with his young partner, raising an healthy and happy child with her. And maybe have more children, go on a road trip, grow old with her, or maybe divorce her at some point.

The day before, in the privacy of the nursery they had built for the baby, he said to her that he had imagined everything in his life, but that, oh, that was something he would have never thought about. Our lives are never completely ours, he had finished with an heavy sigh, and had left her in the nursery, staring intensely at the wall.

They had organised the funeral in a church. She wasn't sure Liane would have liked that. After the sermon the priest asked if there was anybody that would have liked to speak in Liane's honour. Seen Ben's condition, she had gotten up slowly, feeling an hundred eyes on her back while she went to the pulpit. She had worn a sober and quite large dress, but in front of those people, which most of them were strangers to her eyes, she felt naked.

"I… I don't know how to talk about Liane. It's hard to. Who met her knew she was one of a kind. And I'm not saying that just because she's not here anymore. If she was here I would keep telling her. Liane was bright. So much more than me or our parents. We always joked about that, said she was adopted. But yeah, the brightest person I've ever known in my short life. When… when our parents divorced I was just eight, but she was already seventeen. And she was so much mature than I, at the same age, am now. And the help and support and love she gave me during that difficult time and in my whole life will be cherished until I die too. I guess I'm being romantic, but how can you not be in cases like this? I expected to come home and find her giddy with happiness and excitement, and then instead I find I'll never get to see her again. And I guess I should cry and say "That's life", but it wasn't life. It was a group of fucking maniacs. And I know I should think just of her memory and of my grief, but I'm so fucking angry at them. Liane deserved so much better than this. So, so much. I wish I was the one who died"

Her father's gin had made her loose and bolder, because in her right mind she would have never, never mention her parents' divorce, nor she would have curse in a damn church. She felt the tears she had fought until then riversing themselves on her cheeks. Her speech had upset the whole room, people moved in an umcomfortable way on the wood benches. She excused herself.

At the end of the service, she saw something she truly didn't expect. Kit thought at first it was just the alcohol doing his job, but Sylvie and Sirius were actually there, body and flesh and bones, embarassed frowns on their pale and tired faces, in the last seats of the room. She briefly wondered who had told them to wear Muggle formal clothes, since funerals in the Wizarding World were held quite differently. So she had heard, at least. They both looked so out of place there, with their noble features, the beauty of their gestures, the Pureblood elegance they both had since childhood and she had always envied. She hugged them both at the same time, holding onto them for dear life, and felt crowds of people pass over them without a second thought. Their arms enveloped her body tenderly in a warm embrace. She abandoned herself, since it was the first time someone bothered to console her. Her parents were too wrapped in their own grief. But she didn't blame them at all. There was something disturbing about their behaviour, she felt left out most of the time. But now, now she felt safe. At last.

Eventually they came to her house to the wake in Liane's honour an hour later. Her living room was packed with relatives from both sides, old friends, recent colleagues. There was no space for her. She ended up smoking a shared joint in the backyard with her friends, seated on the stairs in religious silence, staring at the smoke spreading through the air.

"How did you get here?" she asked eventually, hugging her knees with her arms.

"We took the bus. And how I wish we didn't" Sylvie said with a hint of a smile.

"God, can you stop about that for a fucking minute" Sirius sighed, covering his face with resignation. Kit almost smiled at their bantering.

"I swear, Kit, he was shitting himself at every bump" she continued.

"I'm not used to Muggle transport!" he defended himself scoffing like he felt actually outraged.

Kit snorted, arms crossed on her knees to hide a small smile. It didn't actually reach her eyes, but it was her first smile since her last morning at Hogwarts.

"Thank you, though. I'm sorry you had to witness my ridicolous speech. I had a bit to drink" she murmured in embarassment.

"Didn't seem that ridicolous to me" Sylvie observed quietly.

"Intense, sure. I don't know about ridicolous" intervened Sirius earnestly.

She looked them both square in the face, tears already coming up to her eyes. She was a crying mess, too. They watched her with a worried frown on their faces, but she shook quickly her head.

"I just… I'm so, so glad you two are here."

Being back at school wasn't exactly easy. She had schoolmates all over her, offering a shoulder to cry on, a condolence, an inappropriate question about her sister's death. Kit ignored most of them, choosing her own company for some time. She liked to be on her own. It was the only time she could replay her memories and skim around them until exhaustion.

She and Sirius spoke again on a regular basis. Sort of. They weren't sleeping together, nor hanging out like they used to do before Sirius' fight with his friends. That seemed so long ago to her, even if it happened just a little more than a month earlier.

Days were going by in a blur, leaving her dazed and tired. She was returning to life slowly, looking the environment around her almost as if she was scared by it. She thought she had became numb to everything. Grief, joy, even when she got to pass without a single mistake her Apparition test she didn't feel much, not even a glint of satisfaction for her hard work. But that didn' last long.

At the beginning of May there had been an attack against her roommate Marine. She had been found in an unconscious state, her clothes scarded and covered in blood. No one could find out who it had been. Marine herself didn't remember.

Why they did pick up on her, it was quite clear to everybody's eyes. Marine was a Muggle-Born and a lesbian. She was the perfect catch. Kit couldn't find peace in her mind. The knowledge that they weren't safe anymore, not even in Hogwarts, terrorized her. But not of her well-being. Of that, she didn't care much. But after Liane, being forced to look at Marine laying in that hospital bed like that destroyed her. She had never put up fights with anyone in her life. Too kind, too condescending, too mild to stand in a fight.

But then, that freaking Avery from Slytherin made a sly and disgusting comment on her sister's death while she was passing him by, in front of everyone in the Great Hall and she couldn't avoid punching him square in the face. The room fell almost completely silent, except for Avery's gasps of surprise and disgust.

"You fucking cunt" he yelled, getting up right away. He tugged on her hair rudely, making her yelp in pain.

Some teacher screamed to stop immediately. There was a crowd slowly forming around them, while teachers tried to overcome them unsuccessfully. If there was something Hogwarts' students loved other than Quidditch and Butterbeer was a good fight unraveling right in front of their eyes.

"Fuck you, Avery" she grunted, pushing him off of her body.

"You think that just because you have a dead sister and a friend who's almost in the grave you are entitled to everything" he said with haughtiness. She winced at his statement, but tried to hide it. She was sure he would have noticed her slip, but apparently he was really that stupid.

"Gee, Avery, I didn't think you could articulate such long periods! I'm impressed" she almost grinned at his furious face.

"Yeah, I may not be a fucking literate but at least I'm not a fucking fat mudblood queer" he spit on her shoes, his voice full of disgust and superiority. She wished he didn't call her fat. She almost felt worse about that than his racist and homophobic statement. She had no issue in declaring herself an Half-Blood. She was proud of her family, even if they didn't actually recognize her presence lately. And she had never felt her bisexuality to be a problem. People joked about it, yes, and in the beginning it hurt a lot, but she had learnt to reason with her own mind. It was that fat, spit with so much abhorrence, that bothered her immensely. Of every insult known and received, comments about her appearance was the only thing that still snatched a reaction from her. Why that was, she wasn't sure. But maybe made her remember all those times her parents said she was way too skinny, or way too fat, and everything she did to please them was never enough. Maybe.

"All those things you say with such disdain, I'm proud to be them. Can you say the same on being a Death Eater? Do you think no one hears your bragging about it? Do you feel good about it? Do you like being a fucking criminal?" she hissed, making a step forward towards him.

That was the final straw. He slapped her hard on her cheek, his heavy rings making contact with her face. Her head spun to the left. Her tongue tasted blood on her teeth. She retained her tears, even if the pain on her cheekbone and the humiliation were heavy on her. He wouldn't have that satisfaction. Some of his friends had gotten up, rounding behind him like they were all planning to attack her.

"Mr Avery!" McGonagall screamed in horror, trying to separate them.

"You have nothing more to say? It's true when they say you bitches just need an heavy hand to shut up"

She would have jumped on him straight away, but she felt two strong hands on her stomach, tugging her from Avery's face. The fingers pressed almost painfully on her hips, making her stay in their hold. She recognized Sirius' scent, his hair grazed the side of her cheek.

"Let me go, Sirius" she gasped, strugging for release.

"Yeah, let your whore go, Black"

Kit turned over her shoulder to see an absolutely fuming Sirius, whose eyes seemed to be like iron that night. He looked pretty pissed, too.

"It's funny, really how you call her a whore, when I know for sure you're whoring yourself out for your fucking Dark Lord"

The room fell silent. Kit saw Avery start at Sirius' words. It was true then.

"Enough of this. All of you" McGonagall exhaled, followed right away by the Heads of the other Houses and Dumbledore himself.

"I'm very disappointed in your behaviour" Dumbledore stated, looking slightly sad under his half-moon glasses.

"She punched me" Avery whined, trying to make himself look the good guy in that whole situation. As if.

"Yeah, because you made a joke on my sister. My dead sister"

"That is unaccettable. We shall take action on this. You assaulted each other!" McGonagall stated looking more surprised Kit had ever seen her.

"Be my guest, professor"

"There's no need to be rude, Miss Fellowes" professor Sprite, head of her House, piped in.

"I'm not rude. I'm honest. I punched him because he said something very offensive. And he tugged on my hair, insulted me again and punched me too. I guess we're even. You can't think some detention will change a deranged nature like his. That's being naive" she concluded, in the calmest tone she could find in herself.

"We shall see the best solution for you two, Miss Fellowes" McGonagall answered seriously. She looked at her with skepticism, but said nothing more.

"And for Mr Black, too" Slughorn intervened, to everyone's surprise.

"He did nothing" Kit complained, looking at McGonagall.

"He made some serious allegations towards a student, Miss Fellowes. I wouldn't call it nothing" he remarked.

"I wouldn't call them allegations, professor" he stated, quite bored.

"Do you have proofs?"

"I don't think that's my job to care about what Avery's up to here. I thought it was yours, professor"

"Mr Black! Enough!" McGonagall shrieked. The tension was so thick Kit feared something would blow up in any minute now. Dumbledore, unphazed as always, smiled tightly to all of them.

"Why don't we discuss about this another day? Mr Avery, I suggest you to go to the Hospital Wing before you lose all the blood in your body. As in for Miss Fellowes, Mr Black could escort you to your Common Room. Will you, Mr Black?"

Sirius wasn't actually going to escort her to the Hufflepuff Common Room. She had met Sylvie's look in the crowd and motioned to Sirius. Sylvie had nodded quickly and gave her a thumbs up before returning to her roommates.

His room was empty and gloomy, since his friends were still down eating dinner. It was the first time they were alone in more than a month, and she was trying not to feel too uneasy about it.

"I think there's some stuff for medications in the bathroom. We use it sometimes after the full moons. Wait me here?" he asked quietly. Kit nodded, sitting on the edge of his bed, and watched him leave. She laid on the bed, closing her eyes for a brief moment, allowing her thoughts out. She felt so tired. Emotionally and physically. Almost like energy was being drained from her body.

"I found some… Are you okay?" Sirius asked, starting her.

She opened her eyes, staring to the ceiling she had become so accustomed to in the months prior.

"I am. Sorry" she sat up with crossed legs, and Sirius did the same beside her.

"I found some Dittany. Show me your cheek" he said gently. Normally he would have taken kindly her chin between his hands, but Kit knew he was restraining himself. Why exactly, she wasn't sure.

She turned her face to him reluctantly.

"Does it hurt?" he murmured.

"It's sufferable. He doesn't have an heavy hand" she lied. She didn't want him to go after Avery. Avery was her problem and she would have to deal with it.

"Seemed heavy to me. Can I?" he gestured at a clean cloth and the Dittany in his hand. Kit nodded again, and he approached her slowly, touching her face in the most delicate way he'd ever touched her.

She flinched to the coldness of the Dittany hitting her burning skin. His hands grazed her head with a feather touch, his thumbs so familiar to her face she just wished to lean her face in his hand.

"Thank you. For this, I mean. And for what you did before" she whispered, looking at her joint hands in her lap.

"I did nothing"

"You prevented me from scarring Avery's face" she almost laughed, feeling immediately silly. He looked rather sad.

"He would have deserved it" he answered laconically.

"Yeah"

He was so close to her, even if it wasn't for the reason she wished. And she liked it, even if her cheek was hurting like crazy and she was trying not to cry again. There was something so private, so entirely theirs in what they were doing. It felt more intimate then everything they'd ever done together. And they had done quite some stuff since November.

Sirius kept running the cloth down her cheek in ripetitive e relaxing gestures, remaining silent the whole time. He truly seemed off that night. She gathered some courage – the very little bit she had left after bitching on Avery in front of the whole school, and touched his hand lightly. He dropped his eyes on her fingers on his knuckles.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Mh-mh" he murmured absentedmindly, turning to press the cloth on her temple.

"You can tell me. If you feel like it, that is" she tried, uncertainty all over her voice.

Sirius sighed lightly.

"You have a lot going on" he shook his head, focusing his attention on her jaw, which was the part that hurt the most. Kit clenched her teeth, but urged him to go on nonetheless.

"Doesn't matter. I'd like to know about your lot going on. We… we didn't talk for ages" she mumbled, with a pang of guilt. Sirius didn't aknowledge her statement, nodding briefly.

"Yeah" was all he said.

"I know it's my fault, Sirius"

"It's not. At all"

"What happened, then?" she insisted, caressing lightly the back of his hand.

"I know about Avery because my brother told me. He's one of them, too"

Kit fell silent. Surely she didn't expect that. Like, at all. What was she supposed to say? Fucking hell.

She knew his relationship with Regulus was one of the things it plagued him the most. Sometimes, when he was in the right mood, he would tell her of his childhood, of the horrible things his parents did to him, of his memories of Regulus before they parted ways. It was very clear he still loved him to pieces, regardless of his beliefs.

"And I guess I'm angry about it. I don't know"

"You have every right to be"

"I should have done more for him"

"You shouldn't give up like this. This is not who you are" she murmured, eyes closed while he pressed the cloth on her chin.

"I'm just… I'm tired, Kit. Do you remember when you said you wished us to be a normal couple?"

She nodded tightly.

"I wish we were. I wish I was a normal person"

"Normality is very flexible concept. I wouldn't rely on it too much" she observed quietly.

"You have no idea how I missed you saying this kind of shit" Sirius said lightly, laying the wet cloth on the bed. She smiled almost timidly at his words.

"And I you. Very much indeed" Kit admitted, looking up at him. His familiar face was so close to hers she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"Kitty?"

"Mh?"

"I'd like to kiss you"

"Yeah" she nodded, inclining her head to align his mouth with hers. Kit heard Sirius almost growl on her lips, cradling her unharmed cheek in his hand and caressing it like he always had. She sighed in relief, absorbing everything he gave her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, pressing herself against his body. The boy slid his hands down her body, holding her thighs naked under her skirt. She had missed so much his fingers pressing thightly in her legs, his weight against her, his cute habit of leaving sloppy kisses on her whole face, using extra care on the other side of her cheek. Kit straddled his lap, her knees down to each of Sirius' legs, and holded on his shoulders for leverage, grazing his hard dick covered in jeans against her panties, eliciting in them both loud groans.

"I can't believe you're here" he mumbled on her skin, making her dizzy with contentment. She hadn't felt like that in some time.

She kissed him on both his cheeks, his forehead, the right and elegant bridge of the nose, moving forward to his neck and then his throat and probably she would have gone way further if it weren't for his pals choosing to enter the room right in that moment.

"Pads, what are you… Oh, fuck!" James exclaimed, making them both jump out in fear.

"Fucking hell" she moaned, plopping off from Sirius' lap and sitting in front of him in order to cover his evident hard-on, which was now nudging her low back. God, she wished they never came back from dinner.

"So, well… How are you doing, Kit?" Remus asked, trying to be casual about it, even if he was a bit red in the face.

"Not bad. You guys?"

"We good. You were awesome with Avery, earlier. I've never seen him so knackered!" James said, looking really admired by her actions, sitting on the stool where Sirius left his school robes like he was ready to start a proper conversation.

"Yeah, well. He didn't go lightly on me either, so" she joked, but the other guys fell silent.

"Are you okay now?" Peter asked timidly.

"Yeah, Sirius cured me with his exceptional nursing skills" Kit said with irony, making James and Peter snicker.

"He did, uh?"

"You ought to stop with those innuendos, you're getting lame" she rolled her eyes at James' antics, but a small smile stayed on her lips.

Eventually she remained with him for the night. He was clearly quite happy to have her again in his bed, wearing a shirt of his like she used to do months prior, clinging on his body with her arms and legs like koalas did to the trees. Sirius had closed the curtains and casted a Muffliato to give them a semblance of privacy, so their faces were now enveloped in a relaxing darkness.

"Where did you learn that Muffle thing?" she asked out of curiosity.

"I think James would have my head on a plate if I revelead this, but we heard Snape casting it one time, and we tried out too. Turns out it's quite useful"

"Oh. That's actually cool. Minus the part about Snape"

Sirius laughed at that.

They had sex for the first time in months that night. Again, they didn't actually plan to do it. They were laying next to each other, talking on something hilarious and ridicolous James had done during Easter break – she couldn't really recall what, and his hand had grazed by mistake her breast. And he was ready to apologize and reassure her they didn't have to do anything, that it was just a mistake. But Kit had taken his hand and pressed it against her breast still covered by warm cotton. Sirius had gulped soundly, making her snort in laughter.

"You always manage to fuck with me, Kit" he complained in his arm, looking at her in awe.

"Will you fuck me yet or not?" she had asked abruptly, still suffering from their interruption from before.

His eyes looked like a pool of liquid silver, filled with excitement and glee and something that was entirely Sirius.

He fingered her first. Quick and swiftly just like she loved. And then his thumbs, still sticky and wet with her juices, were against her mouth while he asked her to open them for him. And she had complied, sucking off his fingers one by one, tasting the strange and salty flavor of her body, making his dick harder against her stomach. Then she had pushed him off her, sitting on his dick and palming him through the jeans. He was whimpering from need, and she had gotten down between his knees and taken him in her mouth. She wasn't always up for it, but everytime she felt like it she was rewarded with the most beautiful sounds a man could have ever done. Even if didn't manage to take him all in her mouth, even if she gagged most of the time while doing it. And she actually liked when he trusted his hips against her lips, tugging lightly on her hair around her face. He always apologized, and she always asked him to do it again until he was comfortable with it, until he was fucking her mouth, gasping everytime she moaned around his dick. And then, though she didn't know exactly how it happened, he was eating her out from behind, her backside up in the air as he lapped at her juices, cursing under his breath when she let out her breathy moans, asking him for more, more and more. He had taken both her breasts in his hands, palming them entirely through the bra she still had on, tugging on it until it was discarded on her ribcage. She complained, though laughing, he had ruined it, but when his tongue ran flat on her clit she shuddered and her legs started to give up, spreading them wider until she was almost crying in pleasure.

Neither of them lasted long. She had expected it. When she sank on him, straddled again on his legs, Sirius let out a loud whine, almost as loud as her cry. She truly hoped the Muffliato was an effective charm, because neither of them had ever been good to silence themselves. It didn't help he had his face between her breasts (she had actually managed to be totally naked in his presence after a few months together), sucking and licking and biting all over her nipples making her yelp both in pain and pleasure, twirling them in his hands so hard she had to lean on the wall behind her to steady herself. Kit rode him slowly, enjoying his skin under hers after so much time.

(In the first days following their falling out – if she could call it like that, she had found that she missed deeply his wit, his sharp mind, his confidence, but God knew if she missed having sex with him. They had been quite regular, going at it quite a handful of times during every week – they were, after all, hormonal teenagers, and every night, when she laid in bed she found herself thinking about him. And his hands. And his lips. And, oh, that damn tongue. Every time, the morning after, she had woken with her underwear wet.)

And then they were on their sides and he was behind her again, pounding so quickly in her folds he could hear the smacking of his legs against the back of hers, holding on her leg wrapped on one of his hard enough to leave her a sign the morning after. They usually weren't so rough and aggressive and careless, but God, how much she missed him.

"Are you… God, are you close?" he gasped in her ear, licking the shell of it.

"Just a little bit. Please… Just… Ah" she moaned, when his fingertips opened her folds, spreading her legs wide on himself. She felt like in one of her dreams.

"You're so warm, Kitty. So lovely" he whispered in her ear, while pressing his whole palm on her core.

She whimpered violently against his hand, rocking on it shamelessly, pressing one hand to his back to make him push in her even harder than before. She felt so, so fucking close. And he was too, judging from his moanings on her neck.

"Kitty…" he warned her with cracking voice, flicking her clit so quickly she felt herself panting in an indecent way.

"Ah, yeah. God, I… Yeah, like that" she cried like she had never done before, feeling a bit ashamed as she pressed her backside on his dick, pressing her folds in his hand, clamping her fingers on his hair as she came. He did too, after two, three, four messy and hard thrusts that left her still lustful, spilling himself between her legs. They breathed hard, limbs sweaty and entangled messily. Kit started running her hand on Sirius' hair, threading her fingers in his curls lightly, listening to his breath slow gradually.

She felt at peace, finally. But their comfortable silence was interrupted by the loudest sneeze she'd ever heard.

"God, James, could you take this somewhere else? Bloody damn stags" they heard Remus complain in an annoyed tone.

"It's not my fault I have allergy! Those fucking flowers! Gosh" he said, and sneezed again.

Kit met Sirius' eyes, gleaming with satisfaction and mirth. And they both started laughing.