Hello. This is a companion piece to The Element of Surprise. The mystery of what happened between Sirius and Marlene that makes them act so weird around each other in their Seventh Year. Enjoy!

1.

It was the owl from his mum that did it, Sirius would decide in hindsight.

He'd been lounging on the freshly cut grass with James, taking a break from trimming the hedges while Mrs. Potter wasn't watching. James had been telling him, for the hundredth time that summer, how he actually didn't feel bothered about Lily Evans anymore. Like, at all.

"Yeah. Prongs, I feel like if you really meant that, you'd shut up about it—"

"I am. I have. I really don't have anything at all to say about it," James shrugged. Sirius snorted. "Except to say that I can't be bothered anymore. There's nothing so great about her anyways. I think I've just come to my senses. Matured."

Sirius snorted again, and was about to point out that talking incessantly about how much you don't care about something, is really only another form of caring about that thing— when he saw it.

The clouds had been plump with the threat of rain against a cadet blue sky. And that fucking owl had swooped into view. It had obliterated the sun, and Sirius knew before it landed, who it was from.

You despicable little kreaton,

If you think you are going to lay hands on your Uncle's inheritance, you are even more of a delusionallittle narcissist than we all suspected.

If I so much as hear you are in contact with Alphred I will seriously consider having you killed. I should have drowned you when you were born.

Our family tree has never looked better with your stain absolved from it. At least Regulus can carry on the Black family name like a proper son.

These highlights floated back to Sirius as he walked with his hands in his pockets, through the streets of muggle London. Night was falling. The signs outside the muggle pubs and restaurants glowed colorfully against the dark sky. He had always liked that about muggle towns. Their glowing signs in bright shades and cursive lettering. He smiled as a group of friends around his age burst from a pub called 'The Blackfriar', chanting a football song.

He tried not to think of Mrs. Potter's disappointed face when he had excused himself from the house an hour earlier.

He hated, hated, that his mother could still have an effect on him. He'd forced himself to laugh out loud, feeling something in his chest close up against the threat of feeling. He'd shown James the letter, hoping James would laugh to and confirm the hilarity, the powerlessness of his mother's words.

James had smiled, unsure.

There had definitely been concern in his eyes.

Something about this confirmation of mistreatment had caused a chill to settle into Sirius' stomach. He'd set the letter on fire with his wand and they'd gone inside, but a growing feeling of unworthiness had plagued Sirius as they'd helped the Potters with their preparations.

There was so much love inside the Potter's house. It had been extended to him. Often he found this fact physically painful. He felt extremely sensitive to the possibility of their home potentially being darkened by his presence.

Tonight he had committed to attending Mrs. Potter's dinner party. But after receiving his mother's letter, he could feel something toxic brewing in him that had made him make up an excuse to bolt for the night.

She had been disappointed and disappointing her made his palms sweaty and his throat tight. But this was the lesser of two evils. They wouldn't want a Black, a real Black, at their dinner table. That is what he'd felt coming tonight.

There was a merriment in the streets of London that made Sirius wonder if it were a holiday. People flowed from restaurant to bar— down the streets, in black boots, lovely dresses. Jeans and t-shirts with musical groups depicted. His own clothes were a noticeably more formal, as his muggle collection was still the one he'd had from when he lived at his parent's house. Mrs. Potter was always offering to buy him more, but he couldnottake their money on top of everything else.

Feeling overwhelmed by the increasing intensity of crowds in the streets, Sirius decided apparate to a quieter location. He ducked into a deserted alleyway and wove behind a dumpster, his hand on his wand in his pocket, spinning in the way that was already second nature; though he'd only technically had his license for two months.

He was squeezed, wrung out, and released.

He let out a slow breath, feeling peace settle around him. Finally.

He was in the village of Falmouth, in Cornwall. The smell of the sea caressed his nose. A cool breeze turned in his hair. It was quiet here. A few people were out, but the streets were smaller. The houses were bright, weathered by sun and salt. Flowers poured over pots and out of yards, lush in the coastal climate.

He started walking down a cobbled path, towards a set of pubs overlooking the ocean. The Wizarding province was near, but Sirius often liked the simplicity of the muggle parts of town. The stars were beginning to come out and the breeze was picking up. He had a sudden urge to transform into Padfoot and run for a while.

Maybe on the beach.

He looked around to see if anyone was near. They weren't.

Or so he thought. On the porch of a blue house to his left, the silhouette of a woman was illuminated by candlelight. Sirius slowed down, instinctively, appreciating the poetry of the image.

She was small and willowy, with a thick mess of curls. Her body was covered by a loose white dress. Her head was resting on her arms, which were on her knees. Her ankles and feet were delicate. Tanned. Sand-chipped polish adorned her toes.

She looked up, as if sensing him. Sirius' stomach flipped.

"Oh," he heard himself say, in surprise. "It's you."

She looked surprised too. Then she frowned.

"What the hell are you doing here, Black?"

He re-grouped quickly.

"Well, darling," he said, switching his tone to that of the film actors they'd seen in Muggle Studies, "I've come for you."

They liked to flirt. It was notoriously their rapport.

She snorted.

"Great balls of fire," she drawled breathily. Then she rolled her eyes at him.

He smiled, because she was actually in his Muggle Studies class, and this was a film quote they had laughed at together, quite a lot.

They looked at each other. Sirius genuinely liked her; respected her. They way she met his eyes, like the way she was doing now, boldly, put him at ease. She was little, but there was a strength in her that made him feel that he could be himself. Other females had to be tip-toed around. Or perhaps he was just too vulgar for the majority. She was never afraid to shut him down, quite ferociously.

She was frowning again.

"Really though, what are you doing here?"

Sirius hesitated. He took a tentative step up the slightly dilapidated stairs.

"Well..." he said at length, "I finally cracked that tracking charm, see? So I've been following your every movement... until you landed in a place where I knew we could be alone."

He winked, roguishly. She rolled her eyes again and sat back, her palms flat on the deck behind her. The paint was chipping. He sat down beside her.

"Sirius."

"Marlene."

"You know I actually have had a stalker before, so that's not really funny. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, shit," he grinned and masked this by rubbing his jaw, "I forgot about that. Sorry."

She looked tan, he could tell even by the light of the torches above them. He wondered how long she had been here; as far as he knew she lived in Oxford. She was raising her eyebrows at him. He chuckled, feeling suddenly uncertain and rubbed his eyes.

"No. I'm honestly... just walking. I like to apparate to different provinces sometimes. Clear my head."

He looked at her again. If he wasn't much mistaken, the way she was nodding seemed to imply that she could sense some of the things he'd left out. The reason's why he was clearing his head. It was no secret at school that he'd run away. That he and his family were on warring terms.

"You're walking around a muggle beach town?"

Her voice was dubious.

"Yeah- what are you doing here? Sitting on a porch in a muggle beach town?"

She laughed a little.

"It's my family's summer home."

"Why's it in the muggle province?"

She shrugged.

"It was cheaper, I think. I don't know. It was my grandmothers, maybe the borders were different then."

Sirius looked up at the house. The windows were mostly dark. A box of white flowers sat outside the window above them.

"So... you guys are on vacation?"

Marlene shrugged again.

"No, just me."

Sirius could sense a similar steeliness in her that he had felt all evening.

"You're just... having a little getaway then?"

He had sounded like he cared, a little too much. He cleared his throat. She looked up at him for a moment, then back across the street. She shrugged as if to say, haven't thought about it. But it was forced. He could tell.

"Mmmhmm. Just needed to get away from it all. My mom's been away for a few weeks, so I just figured why not. I figured out a self-watering spell for her plants at home... so."

He grunted, feeling strangely curious about the details of Marlene's life. Then he remembered something.

"Oh," he said, before thinking, "right. I heard about Davies. Sorry about that."

She laughed, a little bitterly.

"Right," she grumbled, picking at a thread at the hem of her dress. The fabric was very thin. "I forgot everyone seems to have known about that. Except for me."

Sirius furrowed his brow.

"He's a git. You were way too good for him, to be honest. People talked about that all the time."

Her shoulders jumped as she gave a quick, soundless laugh.

"Thanks," she said. Then she drew herself up, shaking her head. The impervious sort of strength that he always admired in her seemed to resurface. "He is a git. It doesn't matter. I just wanted to be alone, get some sun, visit the shops-"

"- pick up a muggle lover for the summer?"

She snorted. Shrugged again.

"Yeah, maybe. I'm open."

Sirius laughed quietly. He particularly liked Marlene because she was safe to flirt with. She was just as big of a flirt as he was; and with that came an unspoken code that none of it would be taken seriously.

The ocean breeze was lifting. The smell of pasta and fried fish was warm upon it. Sirius perked up. He was hungry for the first time since he'd received the letter.

"Where's that smell coming from?" he asked, turning to peer down the lane towards the brightly lit establishments near the shore.

"Le Donne's probably," Marlene said, her voice almost a monotone. She picked at the polish on her toe.

Sirius nudged her gently with his elbow. She withdrew her arm as if he'd hurt her, looking reproachful. He gave her an exasperated look.

"I barely touched you. Wanna go?"

She rubbed her arm with delicate fingers, still looking reproachful and quite grumpy. She was surveying the trees across the street again. Something about all of this made a smile tug at Sirius' lips.

"No," she said, and her voice sounded a little feeble. It held complaint. "I haven't had much of an appetite lately."

He frowned, watching the fingers on her arm— an arm that was quite skinny. More-so than it had been at the end of last term. His frown increased. Marlene was not one to wallow, or so he had thought. He got to his feet.

"All the more reason to eat," he said loudly, offering his arm and fixing her with a stern look.

She flicked her eyes up at him witheringly. Grimaced.

"I don't like fish."

Sirius sighed.

"Well we'll find something else. Come on, Marlene! This is a first, we have bumped into each other outside of school, we've never seen each other outside of school— we can keep each other company, we can sulk mutually— whatever. Just come with me."

A begrudging smile pulled at her mouth. She crossed her arms defiantly over her chest.

"I am literally in a nightgown."

"Well change. Or don't— I honestly couldn't tell, it's pretty sexy, actually, it could pass as a dress— come on Marlene, lets be wild."

He looked determinedly at her. She had almost laughed when he'd called her nightdress 'sexy'.

"Look," he said, changing his tone so that it was crisp and highborn, "I don't think you understand. You have an opportunity right now, Marlene, to go on a date with Sirius Black. And I don't know where you've been the last six years- but that's a seriously sought after commodity around the halls of Hogwarts, so get up, and-"

She burst out laughing. He grinned.

"Merlin. You guys are unbelievably full of yourselves. I used to think Potter couldn't be topped, but you've surpassed him in the last couple of years, you know."

"What can I say, Evans has spurned him into submission. Marlene."

"Sirius."

"Do you, or do you not, want to see what your female classmates have been raving about since we were naught but eleven."

She laughed again.

"Right. That's actually kind of a gross exaggeration, Black, no one was raving about your prowess when we were children. And I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but it isn't your dates that the girls rave about- it's what happens after."

He grinned, feeling his pride swell. His chest actually puffed into better posture.

"I am aware of that, actually."

"Jesus, I actually did not mean that as a complement. It came out wrong."

"No, I think it came out pretty accurately-"

"What I meant," she said, closing her eyes and shaking her head in disbelief. Sirius suppressed a smile, knowing she was close to defeat. "Merlin- you're incorrigible- is that what the girls rave about is not something you and I are going to partake in. They honestly say that dates with you are a little stressful. Rushed, as if you're just wanting to speed through to the-"

Sirius held up a hand, looking away and biting his lip on a grin, because, fuck, she was impossible, and he wasn't used to being defeated in a sparring match, and he found that he didn't want her to see how much it made him fucking giddy like a second year.

"That's why this is perfect, Marlene," he said, "because we are friends, and the after stuff is off the table, so dinner with me will actually be great. You will get the full gift of my conversational prowess, my intellect, my-"

She cut him off with another laugh mixed with a noise of exasperation. Probably because he had been counting on his fingers, with focus, intent on making a full list of his attributes.

She was standing. Sirius fell silent at once, grinning in triumph. He offered his arm again obediently.

"I must admit, I rather feel that I have received enough of the gift of your conversational prowess," she said offhandedly, brushing off the seat of her dress, "but fine, Black, you have worn me down. Let's eat some bloody fish and chips."

She took his arm. A strange, heated feeling rippled through his abdomen. He chalked it up to victory. And company. Someone besides his own mind and his mother's words to occupy him this evening.

"I thought you didn't like fish," he noted.

"I don't, but I'm eating all your chips," she sniffed.

He chuckled and pulled her down the creaking stairs, down the cobbled path. He had to resist the urge to transform into Padfoot just to shock, impress, thrill her. He had to remind himself quite severely that being an animagus was highly illegal, in order to restrain.

They breeze ushered them into town, with an air of renewal; fresh beginnings.