Hi guys! First of all, thank you Nana for the review on the last chapter - even when no one else feels like reviewing I know I can always count on yours 3 because of that my dms are open for you to ask anything you want about the story and I promise to give you some spoilers that no one knows about; or maybe I can add something you want in the story? Just let me know, it's what you deserve for being such a sweet reader. Thank you for reading and really hope you like this chapter as well.

Please do leave a review as it motivates me to write faster and better. Let me know what you think or ask questions, I'll do my best to answer them.

Anyway guys, hope you like this. Please remember I don't own Harry Potter (as if you could ever think that)

The wedding morning was chaotic, which came as a surprise to no one familiar with the bride to be and her mother. The fact that the drama would start so early in the morning, although a possibility that was considered by everyone, was unwelcomed and they all hoped that it could be put off until that reasonable moment of the day every wedding had in which things tended to drift messy in a natural way. But as if the universe was given them a taste of what it would be like to live with Miss. Delgrange for the rest of their lives, the day started with a scream coming from her provisory room.

The scream was so sharp and high pitched and filled with panic that it managed to wake Natalia and Simon up, whose rooms were the nearest to Eponine's. If there was a trait the twins shared was that the two were deep arrived by the door seconds apart, turning to look at each other with identical frowns before stepping in and opening the door without even calling.

They were met with a red, swollen and pimple-covered bride who sat in front of the mirror with an expression of pure horror as she stared at her unrecognizable face.

"Oh, crap" Simon let out, covering his mouth with his fist as he supressed a bunch of giggles which even his male brain could pick up on being inappropriate enough for him to at least try to conceal.

Despite his best efforts – which were really not good at all, he ended up receiving fulminating glares from the person whose face looked almost inhuman and whose eyes were absolutely feral. That shut him up alright.

His sister, although perhaps the person who felt the most animosity towards Eponine, was a girl, and so her common sense in situations like this was sharper than her brother's – the minute she heard the giggles come off his chest, she managed to elbow him while shoving him behind, making her way towards the other witch and ordering him to get one of their elves there immediately.

It turned out to be something she had eaten for dinner. How was she supposed to know those tiny pink fruity balls, of which she had a good amount, were supposed to be just about the only thing she was allergic to? And of course they had to have those the night before the biggest day of her life.

Lucky for them, Strinky could brew just the right potion to… bring her face back to a human form again and fingers crossed, she could get it done before the wedding, if she found the ingredients.

Eponine had resorted to crying and Natalia couldn't really blame her. Had she looked like that on the day of her wedding… Still, it was awkward to witness, especially because she wasn't sure what sort of approach she should take. While handling things better than her brother, she doubted she could be considered the right person to have around a moment like that considering they had spent two full weeks barking at each other in the most creative of ways. For Merlin's sake, just the day before she had spent a whole half an hour pretending she couldn't understand a word of what Eponine was saying over tea – a ridiculous and plain ill spirited thing to do, since Natalia took pride in speaking perfect French. And she truly couldn't help but think of how much she wished this wasn't the morning before the wedding so she could just enjoy those treats of life and laugh at Eponine's expenses without feeling any remorse.

But she stayed there because she guessed that if there was something worse than looking like that on the day of your wedding, especially when your looks were all you had going for you in the first place, it would be crying about it by herself, with no one else to whine about it with.

"I look disgusting!" She screamed in French, taking another look at her reflexion, her voice even more nasal' than Natalia's because of all the crying.

The sight must have been intolerable for her, because she turned her back to the mirror as if it burned her to stare too long. Instead, she was face to face with Natalia, who sat on the bed and tried very hard not to fixate her gaze over any of those monstrous zips.

"No, you…" and she stopped mid-through her lie, because there was no way around it and because Eponine shot her a look that told her to cut the rubbish "Well, yes, it's awful, but Strinky will solve it?" the last part sounded more like a question, so that didn't inspire much hope for Eponine.

"This is the worst day of my life"

And when she said that, Natalia saw the saliva strings that showed from her mouth as she spoke. That made her think of how she had looked like that just a few weeks ago – not for the same reasons, and definitely with a normal face, but there had been a lot of unintentional drooling and other things from that day. So perhaps she would deny it later, but she felt a weird feeling on the pit of her stomach and suddenly all she wanted was for Eponine's face to go back to normality right that instant.

Funny, if told the night before that she'd be in this situation, she'd have wished for Eponine's face to stay that wait until five minutes before the ceremony – so she would look deformed and miserable just enough time for Natalia to enjoy the show and then regain her pretty face so she wouldn't have the worst wedding in magical history.

"She'll fix it, don't worry. It's your wedding day! Try focusing on the positive things"

"Like what?" she barked right at her.

If she hadn't had such a good excuse for her temperament, Natalia would've commented on it. Especially after how much effort she was putting into being sweet.

"Well, you'll be a married woman after today! You'll be married to Sebastian and-

"And he hates me"

"What?"

"Oh please, don't act as if he doesn't tell you how disgusted he is by me"

Natalia frowned. She was lucky if she had gotten to have three whole conversations with Sebastian without someone else interrupting; when they had, he hadn't mentioned anything of the sort – in fact, they never talked about the wedding, it was one of those things they simply didn't mention. So she told Eponine that.

"Even if he doesn't say it, you can see it." Eponine let out bitterly, making her face (and yes, that was possible, Natalia noticed with surprise) turn uglier "He never talks to me; doesn't look at me; and ignores me when I say something."

It was pure luck Mrs. Delgrange made her great entrance right that moment because Natalia truly was lost at words. For the first time, she was glad to see the old woman. She jumped out of bed just in time for Mrs. Delgrange to take the her place as she leaned over her daughter while grabbing her by the arms and muttering 'Oh, mon pauvre bebe!".

So Natalia left the room for the mother and daughter to cry together, noticing both made the same ugly expression in which it looked as if they lost complete control of their face muscles and their face became a wrinkly wet thing. Surprisingly she felt little joy at seeing that and the thought of mocking them didn't even occur to her until later.

For the first time Natalia considered the possibility that perhaps Eponine was just as unhappy with this marriage as she was.

Of course she had noticed her brother paid her little mind… but she had always attributed it to the fact Eponine was plainly annoying. But wasn't that the wonderful thing about caring, about being with another person? When she and Sirius were together (in their own way) he listened and paid attention to her, and she could admit she could be a draining person sometimes, which didn't make it easy for other people to want to listen and pay attention– and that came from Sirius, a boy who didn't love her and wasn't supposed to marry her. Sebastian was engaged and had been for a while, if love hadn't grown in all those months; was there any chances it'd ever? She supposed that if anyone was at fault here, it was her brother.

She imagined herself in Eponine's place: engaged to a person who couldn't even stand her; leaving her whole life behind: her family, home and friends to he relocated to a strange country where it rained too much with a family that although could not be blamed, didn't like her nor respect her. Suddenly she felt very pitiful towards her.

But were her prospects any different? The way she saw it, she couldn't imagine herself loving anyone else as much as she loved him. Yes, she could try and yes she wanted to, but there wasn't anyone interesting enough or handsome enough or… Sirius enough. Even if she ever found someone she could love, she would never love him as much – take Alastar Travers, she had liked him for so many years and he was so pretty and accomplished… but he bored her to death. So it seemed likely than in a few years, she'd be facing a similar fate as Eponine – minus the swollen ugly face, because honestly, how cruel could life be to her?

The git! Had he really ruined the idea of marriage for her? Before, it had been one of her biggest and most desired goals to be married; she thought about it often. Now it pained her to think about it because it'd never be just like she wanted it, because it couldn't be with him.

Well, it wasn't all bad things in her life… she guessed. Remus had written to her. It was a sweet and short letter and he inquired about how she was doing and told her his mother seemed to be doing better. He was a sweet boy and a good friend, it seemed unbelievable she still had any left.

If things had gone according to the plan they had carved before leaving school, Jane would've arrived to the Yaxley manor two days ago and stayed for two whole weeks in which the two would do nothing more than have ice cream and tan by the pool. But of course they hadn't foreseen the big fight on the train which left things between them… unclear. So Jane hadn't arrived two days ago, and Jane wasn't going to be there for the wedding and Jane wasn't going to stay for two weeks like she did every year.

On top of that, Hippolytus, who she had decided to forgive for his lack of sharing (because for once, she couldn't force him to share his secrets, especially when she did the same thing to Jane and mostly everyone else; and because she truly didn't have a lot of friends to spare), had come down with a fever, so he wouldn't be attending the just like that, her bitter thoughts had led her to the even bittier realization that it had proved itself to be for the last fortnight, and that was that this was going to be a lonely summer for Natalia Yaxley. Oh, and she had started feeling bad for Eponine – didn't that mean she was going crazy already?

In the noble and most ancient house of Black, there were two well-known truths about their firstborn.

First, the kid was a pain in the arse and to keep him away was always desirable. For peace to reign in the household, he had to be gone so he couldn't pick up fights with each single member of the family. So when he wasn't at Hogwarts, Sirius spent as much time as he wanted over at the Potters.

The second was a consequence of the first. The boy was a menace, a boiling potion, what muggles would've called a ticking bomb. Point was, they had go get him married off as soon as possible. The problem with that was, to put it simple, Sirius himself.

Most families married their girls young but let their boys establish a career first and have their fun for a few years. In fact, that's what Walburga and Orion planned for their youngest. But with Sirius, it wasn't an option. No, the sooner he was settled with a wife, following on his parents' footsteps, the sooner Walburga Black would be able to get a good night's sleep. Whatever time he had without attachments, the most likely he was to screw up.

A push in the right direction, into the right girl, and their bloodline and reputation could rest assured again.

So in order for that to happen, they had to make sacrifices. Even if by that they had to put up with his explosive and problematic personality from time to time and impose it on other people whose respect they counted on. Whenever there was a social event to attend to which promise large amounts of young pureblood single witches, Sirius had to put up with it.

It was a gamble to take him, of course.

It was a fortune the boy was fair and filled with beauty, something not uncommon among the Blacks, but taken to an extreme by him – objectively, everyone in the family agreed he was the handsomest of them all. Still, what his looks could've attracted, his mouth could repel. Even if the daughters were attracted to his looks, the parents couldn't put up with the rebellious ideas, no matter how much Walburga and Orion assured everyone it was just a phase, after all, he was just a teenager. If his inheritance and blood appealed some, they quickly forgot all about it the second his arrogance would make itself visible – which was quick, one could tell from just one look.

But if one thing could be said about Walburga Black was that she was persistent on her believes and ideas. She'd get little pureblood grandchildren from Sirius even if it killed her. So of course she was taking him to Yaxley's oldest son's wedding. If there was a place where one could expect young witches, it was there; after all, most mothers were planning on pinning them to the Yaxley's still unmarried son – or at least, that's what Walburga would've done, had she had a daughter.

There'd always be a big argument whenever he'd be forced to go to an event, but then again, he put up fights for everything, so that wasn't strange. Another thing about the kid, he could be almost as persistent as his mother and equally good at putting a fit (or so his father thought). But this time he seemed resolute on not going and no matter how many threats he received, he still refused to go.

Why should he go? See her? Ha. She had refused him to his face, left him standing in that humid broomsticks closet after admitting things he hadn't said to any other girls before, after being the most honest he could be. She didn't want to be with him? Fine, good, she could go and be with Alastar Travers or whoever she wanted to be with for all he cared. He was done with her and he certainly wasn't attending her brother's wedding.

Girls always asked for too much. He had done more for her than he had for anyone else. He cared more for her than he cared for any other. Why couldn't she be happy with that? He had given her more than he had given any of the others. But she wanted more, it was in her nature. She wanted the whole deal, she wanted the whole of him; she wanted the house, the babies and those damn three words. Why were those words even important? They weren't for him.

He really didn't want to see her ever again. Which is why he was utterly pissed when he found himself standing in the gardens of her house, all dressed up in his best robes with only his hair and many buttons he had pinned to his suit keeping him from looking like the polish young man his mother so desperately wanted everyone else think he was. But what else was he supposed to do? He either went to the bloody wedding or he spent the rest of his summer at his cousin's Bellatrix – or so had Walburga said.

Usually, when in public, his family took one of two approaches with him. They either avoided him like the plague, hoping he'd find a poor soul to cling to and save them the embarrassment of experiencing first-hand whatever bomb would come off his mouth ; or they kept a grip on him like a Hungarian hugtail, to prevent him for doing anything too Sirius-like. This time, they seemed to have opted for the first, so he stood alone by one of the pillars of the house entry, wishing he had a cigarette.

Around him he saw feathers, bright colours and long canes – people really went out of their way for this wedding, didn't they? He guessed he could see why by just taking a look around him. The Yaxleys were truly packed, if one had to judge by their extensive large grounds and enormous house, and despite the fact they were meeting there for the wedding of their oldest, they still had two unattached teenagers left. Not to mention all the other guests and their own single children. He guessed that was the reason why his mother had been so eager on him coming – poor woman, she really thought there was hope left with him.

At least there was a considerate amount of people he had never seen before around. One of the many problems with these sorts of events was that faces tended to repeat themselves – purebloods like exclusivity, which meant the guest list was always limited to those in their circle, and there were just a certain amount of Averys, Notts and Rosiers in the world. But it still wasn't that much of an upgrade – British, French, Slavic or whatever else these people were, they were all the same. Except for her – a voice whispered in his head, but he quickly shoved it off.

Well, luckily the ceremony had been short. No sickly corny lovey stuff about how much they loved each other and how they'd always try to keep each other happy and safe. Perhaps it had something to do with the new Mrs. Yaxley's limited English or with her inability to inspire tender feelings on Sebastian Yaxley, who had looked as if he had wanted to be anywhere but there. Anyway, Sirius wasn't complaining.

At least he could be grateful at the fact that once again, parents and young people seemed to have come to that tacit arrangement in which they stayed out of each other's way, with most of the old staying inside while the young wizards and witches partied outside. All he had to do now was endure the party and then was off to the Potters again for perhaps the rest of the summer. He could do that.

Five minutes later he questioned if he actually could.

"Natalia Yaxley looks stunning tonight"

For a second he really thought that the comment had come off his own head and was ready to beat himself up mentally. Seriously, how many more intrusive thoughts about her was he supposed to keep having? It had been a month, it should already be over.

But then he saw his brother's expectant face as he stood next to him.

When he noticed that the words had come off another person, and that those were directed at him, Sirius was sure he must've misheard. There was no way Regulus would ever say anything like that about-

"Well, don't you think she looks good?"

He raised a brow, now fully turning to face him. It had been a while since he had paid Regulus any attention since they tended to ignore each other. Now not only had he deliberately approached him but also started a conversation – Sirius wondered which one of them was it that had already gone over with the champagne.

He shrugged: "If you're into that"

He knew he should've looked away then. There would've been nothing more natural, more casual than looking away after he said that, but he just couldn't take his eyes off Regulus. The kid was a hard nut to crack – finding out what he was up to was impossible on a daily basis so even if he cared, he wouldn't have been able to know about what his little brother did with his free time; so if he wanted to find out what he was after with his comment now he needed to watch every detail.

Regulus smirked, satisfied with the answer, almost as if he had already predicted it. He, unlike Sirius, did take his eyes off his brother, and traced the garden. The daylight was almost completely gone, but the hundreds of floating candles made it possible to keep visibility.

"I think a lot of people would be into that" he shrugged, pointing with his head at something ahead with a smug smile on his face "Overheard a few people calling her 'delicious'" he then turned to his brother, excited to catch his reaction.

Sirius, however, was looking over where he had been pointed to, which was exactly where Natalia Yaxley was standing, talking to a small group of people he didn't know by the fountain. And he admitted it was true: she looked beautiful – hell even that felt short. He had noticed she looked beautiful when he saw her standing next to her mother at the ceremony. Of course he tried not paying attention then but his eyes kept on drifting towards her as he wondered if it was possible she had purposely gotten hotter during those two weeks they hadn't seen each other.

Now that he actually had an excuse to look at her that wasn't his pure free interest, he paid attention to every single detail of her. Her skin, like every summer, was the closest thing to golden, melting perfectly with her blonde hair which she kept on a delicate updo, two strings of hair falling on her face. She was wearing a green dress – a description she would've corrected, since it wasn't green, it was pistachio green; the upper part had lots of tiny feathers that held her torso tightly, allowing people to see what he already had, which was the fact that she had a good body, an amazing one, he'd go as far as saying; the skirt started getting bigger below the hips and it reached her ankles; the best part of it? The bare shoulders, he'd have said.

And not only did he find her attractive, he cared about her, really cared about her. And she cared about him, a lot, he had seen it. Those other people, the ones his brother was talking about, he didn't think they could get that: to actually know her and still want her and care about her, and getting her to care about them too. If they could, he didn't want to think about it.

Realizing he had exceeded the reasonable time of staring, he turned back to Regulus, who was in turn looking at him. He couldn't even remember what the last thing his brother had said was but even if he had, he didn't think he could come up with an answer for it, so he said nothing.

Oddly enough, Regulus was feeling talkative, so he started again despite the lack of response: "Come on, you're telling me you wouldn't do her?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows, not believing what he just heard. They never talked, and when they did, they definitely didn't discuss girls. Was it possible that the one time they actually did the girl in question had to be her? He didn't even know Regulus was the type that talked about 'doing' girls. He wondered whereas it was a cruel coincidence or there was something behind it – but what could that be?

"Who I'd do or not it's none of your business, little brother" he smiled petulantly, hoping that would put an end to it. He was happy with thinking the conversation was just a coincidence if that meant he didn't have to keep talking about her.

So knowing most talks with relatives lasted much less than that and usually ended in much more abrupt and aggressive sentences, he started walking away towards one of the waitresses with the liquor.

To leave like that was the most natural thing to do.

What wasn't natural was the fact that his brother followed him.

"Of course not" he smiled, picking up just where they had left it and ignoring the look his brother was giving him "But just for conversation sake, wouldn't you? I know I would"

Sirius didn't look at him. Instead he kept his eyes ahead, until he finally reached one of the traits and pulled out a glass. He drank the golden liquid quickly and as he did so, without really meaning to, his eyes fell back to where she stood and laughed at something one of the boys with her had said. He'd have been more interested in knowing who those people were if he hadn't been so irritated by his brother.

"Then do her" he said dismissively, hoping that would get him off his back.

"That's the thing" he laughed, almost light heartedly, and Sirius couldn't remember of a time in which he had wanted to hex him more than just then. "I was wondering if you could give me any advice on that. You seem to know your way around girls."

Sirius looked at him with loath. He wasn't sure whereas he was messing with him or telling the truth and whichever option it was, he didn't like it. The peaceful smile on Regulus' face didn't help tone down his annoyance.

To consider the fact that he was being played meant a lot of other things, such as his brother knowing something about him and Yaxley. How could that be possible with how careful they had been and the fact they hadn't actually exchanged words since April he didn't know. But if Regulus did know, there were a lot of things that could happen from there.

And the other option, the one that seemed just as horribly possible as the other one, was that his little brother, his perfect brother, could actually be interested in her. Because being honest, he couldn't see how Natalia wouldn't eventually like it. Regulus was after all, a less flawed version of him, a purer version, and the most appropriate one. He was a pleaser, he did things he was supposed to – if she wanted him to say he loved her, Sirius was sure Regulus would do it. And she was a girl used to having her way. Where did that leave him?

But she was not his type, he reminded himself. Natalia was loud, bright and bubbly and so not Regulus. She wasn't anyone's type, for that matter – she was only his type.

He supressed both ideas and shrugged, opting for defensive attitude once again.

"Yeah, girls, not whatever she is supposed to be"

Regulus rolled his eyes, amused.

"Well, whatever I do I better make a move tonight." Regulus winked, gesturing towards where she stood as one of the guys ran an arm around her shoulders – she didn't seem too bothered by it. "Not sure she's going to last much longer"

That was Regulus cue to leave, taking one glass as he did so.

His job was done – he had managed to put his brother in an even sourer mood; it was only fair, he thought, after the scandal he had put at the house with all the screaming because he didn't want to come. Besides, it was fun. Regulus only wished he could've included Yaxley herself in his teasing, but that would've been too dangerous; his own mother could've seen him talking to her and next thing he knew he'd be engaged to little miss pain in the arse.

Sirius clenched his jaw, unable to get his eyes away from her and to ignore his brother's words. But it was hard to do, especially when everything indicated he was right. Hell, he had seen Travers chase after her like a puppy for the last couple of school weeks – but he hadn't cared then because he was angry at her and could feel her lack of interest for the blondie. Why couldn't she be like every other girl he had been with? With them, he hadn't cared if they moved on from him – in fact, he celebrated it, because that meant he was no longer the bad guy in the story for having moved on from them already. Yet, with her, seeing that guy touch her, hearing his own brother talk about her like so many others surely did, it made him wish if only for a second that he could ignore everything and just go up to her, wrap an arm around her shoulders like that guy was doing and go all territorial on her like he had seen so many guys do before with their girls, like Frank and Alice. Well, wasn't she his girl after all? If anyone deserved that title, it was Natalia.

But she rejected you, the voice in his head said. So he rolled his eyes and cleaned his champagne glass from just one taking.

ooo

Eponine had looked beautiful – even she could admit that. Her face had been fixed exactly three hours before the wedding, amount of time in which the broom to be hadn't been allowed to see her and that had been spent crying in her bedroom. The dress, which was strapless and ivory, made her look like a pastry, and Natalia had to admit for once that Eponine did have good taste. Despite her beauty, Sebastian had looked almost miserable and Natalia suddenly wondered why it had taken her so long to notice the dynamics in that relationship were far from fair and ideal.

Mrs. Delgrange shredded some tears, as did her own father, Mr. Yaxley, who quickly cleaned them off with a light handkerchief. Petra Yaxley, true to herself, didn't smile even once – not even for the pictures; Mr. Delgrange followed the example. Simon had cracked a few inappropriate jokes here and there at the expense of some of the guests or the newlyweds themselves when they were supposed to be quiet, making Natalia turn red from the effort of not laughing. It had been all very predictable not quite as unbearding as Natalia had feared.

At least she had gotten to look pretty in her dress. Although concessions had been made, because she wanted to wear pink but Eponine forbade her from doing so, she could agree that pistachio green settled nicely with her tanned skin. Besides, those two weeks of skipping breakfast just so she wouldn't have to share time with the Delgranges or her own family had made her lose weight – now her jaw was more prominent and body more slender but she hadn't noticed that until the wedding day, when people started mentioning it. She wasn't complaining about the attention, but it was weird having people commenting on how good she looked – she already knew that, she was a naturally good looking person.

So yeah, there were certain things about the wedding that didn't suck but the one that did, the one thing she hadn't counted on being a problem, was bad enough to ruin her already wretched mood for the rest of her month. What on Merlin's beard was he doing there?

She had been chatting with Mrs. Carrow when she saw the Black family approach. Of course she was expecting them, they were very good friends of her parents and important members of society as were her own family, and she was in charge of greeting people at the entry. She was prepared to see Walburga, Orion and Regulus Black, it didn't mean a thing for her – who she wasn't prepared to see it was him, the person of who she thought about all the time, the boy who had ruined her life.

She couldn't help but wearing her feelings on her sleeve, and Mrs. Carrow had to ask her if she was feeling well as she saw the colour disappear from her face. Seconds after she had managed to escape and hide in the kitchens, without a clue of what excuse she had given to get away before he could see her. Anyway, whatever excuse it had been, it was probably true: she did feel lightheaded.

In her head seeing Sirius Black again was a problem that could be pushed off until September, which gave her plenty of time to get over that silly puppy love. Seeing him that day wasn't part of that plan. She had been determined to have a good time and now she'd have to spend all her efforts in hiding from him.

It wasn't that she believed he'd say anything to her; quite the opposite, what bothered her was the fact that he wouldn't feel like he had to say anything to her. She was afraid of the indifference she'd receive from him, since he had already forgotten about her. Yes he had his fun and genuinely liked her but it'd be stupid to believe that meant anything anymore. Boys like him moved on. He had given her a chance to be with him, on his own terms, and she refused. That didn't mean it wouldn't kill her to confirm what she already knew.

So if she wanted to keep whatever was left of her mental health, Sirius Black had to be avoided, which is why she made sure to be surrounded by other people he was unlikely to approach at all times. It was relatively easy considering Sirius despised half the people there and didn't know the other.

So she kept herself busy.

Simon stayed with her for as long as it was fair for a brother to stay with his sister at a party, which wasn't much. He knew about her fight with Jane so he naturally felt bad about it, so he was kind enough to listen to her rant about Eponine's side of the family's choice of garments without complaining. After a while she told him it was fine for him to go hang out with his other friends, people from the Quidditch team and graduates in the cause - just because she didn't have any friends left didn't mean he had to endure the loneliness as well. Besides, as much fun as it usually was to watch him annoyed, she couldn't keep torturing him by imposing him the company of Alastar Travers, who he had always disliked – after all, out of all her family, Simon had been the sweetest to her lately. That was ironic, since when he first saw her on her dress he asked if a bird had puked on it and then shoved her back after she gave an initial shovel.

And yeah, she seemed to be stuck with Alastar Travers for the night. Although it also could be said the other way around, because it seemed unlikely he preferred to be listening to Natalia Yaxley and getting her sandwiches and drinks over getting drunk with the rest of their classmates – even she knew that. They had Mr. and Mrs. Travers to thank for that arrangement, both oblivious of the lack of both teenagers' lack of interest.

It was truly a shame Alastar seemed to be the epitome of a perfect child, because no matter how much boredom and annoyance reflected in his eyes, he didn't leave her side even after his parents left to go inside. It wasn't that the thought of having a cute personal helper for the night didn't sound thrilling on paper, but she truly couldn't stand his lack of interest on her – she could bear the fact that he was a boring person, but the fact that he didn't adore her and listen to her every word? Not so much. When James Potter had been under the effects of that love potion she had adored the experience because he had adored her, despite the mad eyes and the fact he behaved like a lunatic.

She realized how badly she wanted to get rid of him when she saw Rosier approaching and she felt relieved instead of an urge to turn around and avoid the rat. Not that it mattered that much, since Rosier hadn't bothered her again ever since the love poisoning incident, half because of the embarrassment and half out in fear she'd tell on him. Either way, she really thought Rosier could get Alastar to leave her alone – after all, an invitation to go join the rest of their classmates by the pool seemed like something not even a goody two shoes could refuse. Of course he hesitated, but that was it.

Natalia had to give it to him, the boy had a strong sense of family honour and obedience. Or maybe they were that poor that even he realized sacrifice was the only way out. That made her think about how crazy she had been for liking him so much all of those years – how could she have thought she'd have been happy spending her life with a mommy's puppy, so pathetic that he was willing to sell himself just because someone asked him to. That was so not her style – her whatever-it-was-relationship with Sirius served her proof enough.

So wherever she went, he walked behind her.

Aunt Sylvania was too drunk – as she was in most social events – so she didn't make too much of a big deal about the boy who seemed to follow her favourite niece everywhere. She tried implying there was something going on between the two of them when they had first encountered her, but after Natalia rolled her eyes and said they were only schoolmates, Sylvania believed her and said nothing else about the subject, ignoring the boy by the most part. That surprised Natalia because if there was one thing aunt Sylvania loved, it was playing matchmaker among people she knew, mostly young people, and she never stopped with her embarrassing comments, no matter how much protesting and blushed cheeks she was encountered with. Natalia wondered if her disregard for Alastar was so big that not even a drunk old witch wanted to make inappropriate comments about them.

"Good thing you two are not dating, dears. Nothing good comes off relationships, I'd be one to know" she smiled through her crooked English, winking an eye at them and guiding them towards a set of sofas that had been placed in the garden just because of the wedding "Ask my third husband"

"You don't have a third husband, aunt Sylvania. You're on your second" Natalia explained, wondering if perhaps she was too drunk.

"After Ivan dies, of course" she explained matter-of-factly, grabbing an unfortunate elf who was walking by with a trait of glasses, snatching a few away from it and offering it to her two young companions.

If the way he was sitting told them something, Alastar was uncomfortable. That made Natalia smile – perhaps her aunt's eccentric ways could persuade him to walk away.

"He stayed in Petersburg?"

"I didn't even ask him to come. If there's a way to stop people from having fun is to bring Ivan along" she laughed loudly.

Alastar suddenly saw a darker and older version of the girl his parents intended him to marry and felt himself shiver. The thought of hearing that laugh for the rest of his days seemed worse than a life sentence in Azkaban.

Natalia noticed his expression and smiled widely at that so she continued asking questions about her uncle Ivan, who had been tacitly separated from his aunt for the last two years out of the five they had been together. If there was one way to get her aunt Sylvania to sound her most viperous self, the most like her sister Petra, it was to ask her about her husband – before Ivan, there had been Akim, her children's father and she had loved tearing him up with words as well, but ever since Ivan proved to be an even worse husband than the diseased Sylvania didn't enjoy anything more than to praise her dead first husband, especially if in front of the second.

Poor Alastar stayed for longer than Natalia would've given him credit for. He put up with another fifteen minutes of listening to Sylvania Berezina rant about her good for nothing husband and managed to say nothing but smile as he sipped on his champagne. But then Yakov Stezhensky, Natalia's grandfather showed up and not even her adorable and silent grandmamma Elena was able to convince Alastar of staying.

So after her family's job was done (scaring the boy off, that was) and snatching an invitation from her grandfather to visit Russian and stay with them for the summer – this time, she didn't decline right away and instead said it'd be a lovely idea and that she'd try going; she walked away feeling much better. Yes, the prospect of spending her free months off school with old people in the outskirts of Russia was one of the highlights of her night so far, it was sad.

She was toying with the idea of calling it a night and retrieving to her room, despite the fact she had done nothing of what she liked to do at parties like dancing or humiliating someone. Seriously, having no friends other than your brothers was no fun at all – who knew being a complete loser could be so boring. Still, considering the last couple of weeks she had been having she knew she should consider herself lucky no one had tried to throw a glass of fire whisky at her head or challenge her to a duel.

Then she saw him again.

He was leaning against a wall, with his arms crossed over his chest and his knee twisted backwards, with his foot pushing the same wall. Around him around half a dozen French witches were giggling and smiling and leaning and doing everything in their power to let him know how desperate they were for him to paying them special attention – if there had been any humour left in her body, she'd have laughed because it seemed amazing how he could provoke that same reaction on any girl despite nationality. He seemed to be barely listening to what one of them said but too busy looking at the cigarette on his hand.

Then he saw her too.

The French redhead kept on talking, but he wasn't even pretending to be catching what she said anymore. Like those last few weeks of sixth year, when all they'd do was stare at each other intensively, like they wanted to yell so many things but couldn't transmit anything. While she looked at him like daring him to do something, daring him to say anything so she could jump at his throat and hex the life out of him, he looked at her like he hated her, like she had done something unforgivable to her. Why the fuck did he have to look at me like that? She thought with anger.

She wasn't sure how long it had been, it could've been hours for all she knew, and they could've kept at it for the rest of the night if it wasn't for the several pair of eyes that relocated in her direction. All those girls looking at her suddenly reminded her that it wasn't just Sirius and her at the garden; as usual he was surrounded by half of Beauxbatons female population and she was by herself and no matter how much she wanted him to pick her instead, he wasn't going to.

So she dedicated him one last second in which she allowed herself to be drowned in his intense grey eyes before she started walking past him, ready to bury her face on her pillow and see if she either felt like crying or just tearing up his stupid sweater she still kept around (of course she knew that even if that last option happened, she'd be desperately trying to mend it the next morning.)

But none of that happened.

"Where'd you leave Travers?" he asked, half-shouting.

She stopped on her feet, unable to realize if he had actually said something or it was just her imagination. She always had those moments in which she'd hear his stupid voice making a joke or telling her off and she'd then proceed to curse herself for thinking about him that much. When she noticed a lot of glances on her, she knew it had actually been him.

She didn't walk towards him, simply turned her face his way and indeed he was looking at her, expectantly. He was still standing against the wall in a 'too cool for you' way, but he was only looking at her. His retinue of French witches were also looking at her, all frustrated and annoyed – it was likely Sirius had interrupted one of them mid-sentence when he shouted at her, just like his rude arse tended to do.

"Or is he waiting for you upstairs?" he smirked, taking another drag off his cigarette.

Natalia felt her face boil and turn red in anger. Without really wanting to, because she knew that she should've ignored him and gone to her room and finish an unimpressive night, her feet started moving towards him in an angry march. She felt herself unintentionally (almost) elbow away one of the girls and suddenly they were standing in front of the other, her head reaching his chin and both having to adjust their faces so they could look at each other in the eye.

Standing that close would've been a problem at any given time because he was just that good looking and mesmerizing, but she was so angry that he could've held her by the waist and not even that would've gotten her nervous.

The idea of him pretending jealousy only to conceal that he indeed was incredibly so never crossed her mind.

"I can hardly see why you should care"

He smiled petulantly, lazily dragging his eyes off her and resting them for a second on his feet but only for a second or two. When he looked at her again, she could spot a hint of irritation on his face.

"I don't. I just think you two look good together" then, he turned to his right, towards a brunette "Penses tu pas?" Upon the look of confusion the girl gave him, he explained "Que elle et son petite ami blond sont si mignonnes?" he didn't even wait long enough for the girl to answer before he was looking at Natalia again, defiantly.

Not that it would have made that much of a difference, since the French witch had no idea what he was talking about. Still, she nodded – as most girls around him, she'd have agreed to anything he had to say, especially considering that was the first time he actually asked for their opinion about anything.

"Your pronunciation is shit-awful"

"And she swears!" he laughed, but it sounded more like a bark. Still, the girls around them giggled awkwardly, not understanding anything in the conversation, let alone if anything was funny, but still wanting to please him.

"Cut the crap, Sirius" Her patience had officially ran out.

"Oh, did I get it all wrong? Perhaps Traver's not waiting for you at all. Perhaps one of those other guys is, those slavs, huh?"

Of course he didn't believe any of that, not of Travers or anyone else. Even if he did feel hints of jealousy when he saw her with other people, he knew she'd never do that; he just wanted to get under her skin. There had to be some kind of punishment for her after all she had put him through, what she still put him through: seriously, how was it possible that he was at a party, surrounded by hot French witches and all he wanted to do was listen to her high pitched voice drag his arse?. So when he saw her walk so close by he just had to say something, anything. It was as if he was desperate to talk to her.

She squint her eyes, trying to recall who he was talking about while absorbing the fact he was being the most arsehole version of himself.

"Those were my cousins!" Not that she had to justify herself with him, but what he was implying was plain horrifying. "You truly are disgusting"

Against his will, his eyes gave away that her answer was not in fact indifferent to him.

Then, it looked as if an idea suddenly popped in his head and he decided to let it out without stopping for a second to think about it.

"Did my brother say anything to you?"

Natalia frowned, indignant he hadn't continued with their on-going conversation since she still had plenty of things to yell at him for, like the fact that there wasn't anything tying them for him to ask things or make insinuations about what she did or didn't do; that it was ironic he seemed to be implying those sort of things when he held the reputation he did and seemed was surrounded by all those witches; that he didn't get to talk to her like nothing had happened, after all that silence, that doing so was plain cruel.

And since when did he bring up his brother to conversations if it wasn't absolutely necessary?

"What on earth has that to do with anything?"

"Did he?"

"No!" and she must've sort of shouted because some people raised their heads to look at the odd group the two of them and the French girls had formed.

And suddenly there wasn't any trace of mockery or cruelty or irritation left on his face and he just stared at her with a look that she couldn't have described in a million years. Suddenly she was invaded with a sudden yet strong need to start crying.

None of them spoke and she waited just what was appropriate for him to say something else. When he didn't, she turned on her heel with her mind moving a thousand miles an hour but knowing one thing for certain and that being she would not start crying there, in front of him and all those others.

And then he grabbed her wrist. His whole hand actually wrapped around it as if he was drowning and that was his only way out – he wasn't even worried about his touch being too strong and she couldn't care less about it either. That was the first time he touched her in months and her whole body felt electrical. He couldn't remember ever being so satisfied from just one touch.

"For the sake of fuck," he stated, almost altered "don't go"

It was as if the fact they were surrounded by people had completely escaped his mind. But not hers, with her eyes she pointed towards the couple of faces that that observed them intensively.

In those young girl's eyes there was no irritation left – yes, Sirius was attractive and they'd have loved being his girl for the night, but this scene was far too interesting for them to be angry at the short English witch that had stolen his attention from the second they crossed glances. Their eyes went from the grab he had one her to each other's faces as they shared looks of complicity, with the promise of talk about what was happening later.

"Can we go somewhere?" he asked with nervousness, clearing up his throat. Way to say goodbye to his cool façade, he thought but he was beyond caring at that point.

She nodded and waited for him to remove his hand off her wrist so she could lead him somewhere they could be alone. He seemed to understand her command, and the reasons behind it, and did as expected – if people had seen them like that on their way out, there would've been plenty of things talked about the two of them. When he let go it felt like her arm had become a part of him and that letting go was torture, sinful. She didn't like it any more than he did.

In silence he followed behind, close enough not to get lost but at a mindful distance that wouldn't link the two of them to a series of nasty gossip in the pureblood society. She turned twice to see if he was still there and he could see in her eyes that she wasn't sure of what she was doing, that she was doubting whereas it was a good idea or not. He couldn't say he was feeling any different.

No one paid them much mind, too occupied with their own conversations and glasses of alcohol. It seemed like the only people they would have to worry about were those French witches, but none of them could think about it at that moment – in their heads there were only two people left to think about in the world, and it was the two of them.

Past the pool, she kept on walking towards the woods that surrounded the property. Even once they had entered the forest, she didn't stop walking, and he didn't stop her. She could take him anywhere and he'd follow – for what, he had no idea.

About half a kilometre away from the outskirts of the forest, she stopped.

He patiently waited for her to turn around before he said anything, and she did take her sweet time to turn, like she was still deciding if being there was a good idea or not. He already knew it wasn't, but couldn't have cared less.

They stared at each other under the moonlight which made everything silver and shiny and phantasmal. She saw his hair had grown longer since the last time she saw him, then she focused on his clothes and out of her mouth came the last thing he expected her to say."Jim Morrison?" She raised a perfect brow, not at all impressed "You really are a fool."

And she was truly grateful he had decided to wear something as stupid as buttons filled with muggle band's faces, along with some wizarding ones here and there at a place where word muggle alone would've made people thrown their guts out. She was grateful because it gave her something to say that didn't have to do with the fact that she wanted him more than she had ever wanted anything before. She also noticed he didn't have any David Bowie's one – she took that as a personal message.

He shrugged, pouting his lips as he did so: "Not as if they would know who Jim Morrison is." Then, he smiled: "But you do"

She rolled her eyes, trying to pass it out as nothing but her cheeks gave her away: "How could I not? You made me listen to his screaming and nonsense against my will for months." Well, at least that took her mind out of the fact she was deep into the forest with the boy who had broken her heart.

"Against your will?" he took a step closer.

She took a gulp.

"Well, I wasn't informed what it was exactly I was listening to." She said, trying to conceive her nervousness and failing at it. "You tricked me into liking it knowing I wasn't supposed to."

Where they even talking about muggle music anymore?

"I hate when you put that face on" he let out, giving up on their previous subject. Once again, the thought came from the bottom of his mind, and he couldn't even fight against it coming out.

"What face?" She spit out, almost outraged he'd say something like that. Did he seriously made her walk that much so he could tell her everything he hated about her.

"That disappointed frown. I can't bear it" he said softly.

Officially insulted, her voice came out aggressive, a complete contrast to his: "Well you don't have to"

He didn't even flinch, didn't put on any humorous or cocky masks, there was nothing but honesty on his face when he said: "But I want to"

Natalia frowned, not in disappointment this time, but in pure confusion.

"What?"

He sighed, taking another step closer to her, and now they could feel each other's breathing. A sudden thought struck her; she wanted to get drunk on his.

"What I said before, at Hogwarts… I really meant it. I… all I think about is you. Day and night, I think of you and what you would say, and what you would think and what you would do. I close my eyes and you're there. I walk through the streets and I'm hoping I'll run into you." Then he looked at his feet, debating whereas to say or not what he said next: "Sometimes I can actually hear you telling me off, or your laugh… and Merlin I really like your laugh, I never realised that before." He laughed, not a trace of humour on his body. "I fucking hated you for turning me down" he confessed, once again looking at the grass, and she could feel how it almost pained him to say those things. "I'm… better when I'm with you. Sometimes I feel like you understand me more than I understand myself… like you're me, but outside of me, and I know I'm not making any sense." He grinned bitterly, then looked at her again in the eye "Please, stop torturing me like this"

Completely out of words, with a mind that was no longer connected to her mouth, she let out a breathless response: "What?"

He looked up for a second, then at her again: "I know what you want… and I can't give it all to you now… I can't promise everything you want me to promise… but maybe I will someday. I promise to give you what you need if you take me back. Please take me back" and his honesty was blunt, and his voice filled with so many things.

He lifted a hand and ran his palm against her cheek and for a second she allowed herself to close her eyes and feel the coldness of his fingers against her warm skin. And she knew she never wanted anything else to touch her, anyone else.

"I don't wanna lose you" he whispered.

She opened her eyes and looked up at his, taking a step towards him and erasing any distance there had been between them. She wrapped both hands around his waist and rested her face on his chest, which was warm, and felt his own arms wrap tightly around her, desperately like he had held her wrist earlier. He let out a sigh of relief and buried his face on her neck. He didn't kiss her, or say anything, just held her like she never had been before.

And who the fuck needed to hear 'I love you' when they had that, when he had said that? She'd take that 'I don't want to lose you' from him over a thousand I love yous from anyone else. After all, said or not, she never felt more loved than she did in that instant.