Chapter 24

There was only one way to address suddenly living with your ex: one day at a time. That is exactly what they did.

They did not see much of each other for the first couple of days. She was busy with classes and homework, and the meetings he had would usually take place at night to hide any sort of possible suspicion. They had small conversations with each other, general questions of, "How are you?" and "How did your day go?" and "I'm sending out for curry, do you want any?" They quickly set a pattern and rhythm, Sirius tidying up odds and ends while she was out and Beth setting up the sofa for him when he was gone. It was surprisingly comfortable and strangely domestic.

Beth's date that first night had gone well, and she'd set up another one for that night. He'd tried to ask about it, but she'd skirted past the issue, simply saying she was excited to see him again and then asking him to please be quieter when he was coming in that night. He'd apologized by gathering a small bouquet of wildflowers on his way home and setting it up on her counter for her to see the next morning. She'd left out a plate of chocolate chip cookies for him when he'd gotten back from his meeting.

One day at a time. It was working very well for them indeed.

Still a bit awkward sometimes, though.

Remus had stopped by the day before, and upon watching them interact for approximately three minutes had stated that they looked like a married couple. Beth had immediately shot it down, saying it with such sincerity that Sirius had questioned what would be so terrible about it, resulting in a bit of a spat between them. Remus had simply laughed at them, saying that they weren't helping their point before changing the subject.

Sirius had given him a rundown of the meetings he'd been attending, explaining the techniques and strategies that differed from theirs. There was a bit of difficulty in him being the only one there from a different country and had often been disregarded when it came to him suggesting ideas. When Remus had suggested speaking up, Sirius had rolled his eyes.

"You honestly think I'm going to let a bunch of Americans weaken my ability to give my outspoken opinions?"

"I resent that," Beth had said.

"I don't care."

They'd ordered a pizza for dinner and talked about anything that came to mind, as friends often do. Sirius had talked about the leggy redhead he'd sat by the day before, earning a dramatic eye roll from Beth. Remus had caught them up on the adventures of James and Lily trying to get away with having a shag in what seemed to be every room they ever went in, earning a "well done, Prongs" from Sirius. Beth, on the other hand, announced that she'd gotten a letter from her parents stating her father's new assignment in Okinawa, earning an uncomfortable silence from the other two.

"They're leaving in a week," she'd said, picking at a piece of sausage. "And home's too far away to go up and see them for the weekend."

"I'm sorry," Remus had replied, wrapping his arm around her.

"It's fine." Beth's head had dropped onto his shoulder. "It just sucks that now they're going to be gone for the holidays. Especially Thanksgiving. Now I have nowhere to go."

"You don't have any other family in the US?"

"None close by. And I just bought a plane ticket to see all of you. I can't very well justify spending more money to only spend a couple of days, especially with the amount of homework I know I'll have."

That had resulted in a thirty-minute diatribe about the current paper she was writing, which had left Sirius and Remus absolutely flabbergasted.

"Did you understand a word of that?" Remus had asked him later as they walked to the portkey site.

"Not a bit."

"She must have taken up the ideas from the Prophet and started speaking in code," Remus had joked, tossing the cloth-covered portkey in his hand. "You both seem to be getting on fairly well, though."

Sirius had nodded. "Until you started insisting that we were like a married couple."

"What's the worst she could have done? Kicked you to the couch? You've already set up camp there."

"You've got a point there," he'd replied, tilting his head in agreement. "I don't see her very often, honestly. Makes for a rather lonely day, waiting for our schedules to intersect. It's not like I've got friends to run off with."

"Maybe you should set up a trap for her."

Sirius had laughed. "With what? A library card, a picture of James?"

"Give her an opportunity to go to a meeting with you."

He'd scoffed. "We want the trap to work, I hardly think that would tempt her."

Remus had shrugged and unwrapped the portkey. "You'll think of something. Just don't give away anything crucial to the bane of our existence, yeah? We don't want the Ministry attacking you for telling her about the real meaning behind Stonehenge."

And so Remus had left, and Sirius had returned, and Beth had already gone to bed. This morning, she'd been out when he'd woken up, though a note had been laying on the coffee table next to him.

Don't forget I've a date tonight, so feel free to raid the kitchen and make whatever you want. Or order in, I don't own you. I'll try to stay quiet when coming back in—unless it goes quite well. -Beth

A moment of their night going quite well flashed into his mind before he abruptly threw it out, setting out the large expanse of papers detailing the history of protections the US had used to defend themselves from Grindewald's advances with a sigh. Putting on a pot of coffee, he went to work, groaning at the thought of the arduous task ahead.

He spent the entire day sitting in front of those papers, reading and making notes and reading more. He wished Professor McGonagall was watching him now. He was sure that she would have fainted at the sight of him taking an assignment so seriously. For hours, he sat there, stopping only for the bathroom and a quick sandwich, desperate to finish all of the reading today so that he could spend tomorrow lazing about.

He would have been able to do just that too, until Beth suddenly came into the room with a huff, throwing her purse down and slamming the door shut before staring at him with a quiet intensity.

"Hi."

Sirius smiled to himself as he watched her walk to the couch opposite him and promptly throw herself into it, stuffing her face into the pillow. "Hi," he replied, setting the papers in his hand aside. "Are you okay?"

Beth groaned loudly. "No."

Sirius bit his tongue to keep a laugh from coming out at her muffled voice. "Didn't go quite as well as you'd hoped?"

She was silent for a moment, then turned her head towards him. "We're friends, right?"

"Right."

"Can I talk to you as a friend and we just conveniently forget that you're my ex for a moment?"

"You mean continue talking in the same way we've been for the past week now?"

She sighed dramatically. "This is pointless, I don't know why I even try—"

"All right, all right." He held up his hands in concession. "I yield, forgive me. What happened?"

She eyed him curiously for a moment before sighing loudly again. "So I'm over at his house, right?" she began, sitting up on the couch, clutching the pillow to her chest. "And you know, one thing led to another, clothes are coming off, he's kissing my neck, it feels really good. Then, out of nowhere, this woman walks in, she yells, 'What's going on?' and he responds with, 'I thought you were in Tampa.'" She threw her face back into the pillow. "He's married," came the muffled response.

"Oh, no."

"Oh, my God," she groaned loudly, lifting her head so that her chin was resting on the side. "He was married, Sirius. I was going out with a married guy. I was about to sleep with a married guy."

"But you didn't," he offered.

"No, thank God," she scoffed. "But now I'll have to walk by his office and it'll be weird and—"

"Walk by his office?" Sirius interrupted. "What student has an—"

She cut him off with a cold glare, and realization began to settle in.

"Oh, Beth."

"Stop."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, Beth."

"No," she complained, throwing her head back onto the couch and covering her face again.

"He wasn't one of your professors, was he?"

There was a brief moment of silence. "Not one of my current professors," she mumbled. He laughed again, partly at her embarrassment, mainly at her actions. "I had him once my freshman year," she defended.

"You were about to have him again tonight."

"I know, I know," she moaned loudly. Her face was twisted in anguish, but Sirius could not stop laughing. "I'm so stupid."

"In this situation?" he said. "Yes, I'd have to agree."

Beth continued to wallow in her grief, mumbling unintelligible nonsense into her pillow. Sirius took the moment to go into the kitchen and get a fresh cup of coffee for her, putting it in the cup he knew was her favorite. Walking back into the room, he sat down beside her on the couch, placing the cup on the coffee table in front of her.

"Is this why you didn't want to tell me about it earlier?" he asked her.

She shook her head, giving him a look of thanks when she saw the coffee. "I knew you'd make fun of me if I told you. But now I deserve it."

"You do, yes," he said, leaning an arm across the back of the couch as she took a sip. "And I will, don't doubt it. But not tonight."

"What a gentleman," she said sarcastically. She sat silently for a moment longer, bringing her knees up to her chest and cradling the cup in her hands. "Can I officially call this the worst date in the history of humanity? I feel like this is the epitome of low."

"Am I out of the running, then?"

"Oh, I'd forgotten about our date," Beth admitted. He could feel her thoughts racing back to their first date, and the absolute disaster that had been. After a beat, she shook her head. "No, I'd say you're officially out of the running. We have a new champion."

"I willingly relinquish my throne," he teased, bowing slightly to her.

She sighed again and leaned her head back. "Am I a homewrecker now?"

In a brazen moment of impulsiveness and appreciation for their proximity, he brought his hand down to run his fingers through her hair. "You didn't know he was married and you never slept with him," he said, ignoring the confused look she threw at him at his fingers' movements. "I'd say no."

"I was about to."

"But you didn't."

"Because she walked in."

"But you didn't know there was a 'she'," he pointed out, moving his hand to lightly caress his fingers against her forehead.

She immediately moved away, giving him a playfully nasty look. "What are you doing here? What's this?"

He paused a moment. "Comforting you?" he offered.

"It's not working."

"No?"

"No."

"Drat," he said, moving his hand away.

She chuckled lightly, bringing her hands up to cover her face. "If you want to comfort me, lie to me and tell me I'm not a homewrecker."

"You didn't know," he stated again. "If you had known, that would have qualified you as a homewrecker, trust me."

"Trust you?" she chuckled slightly. "Why should I—"

She stopped talking suddenly, then threw her head up to look at him, her eyes wide. "Were you a homewrecker?"

"Beth, honestly, does that sound like something I would do?"

She caught on to the suggestive tone of his voice and immediately broke out into a fit of laughter. "Oh my God, you're just as bad as me!" she exclaimed. "What happened?"

He shook his head. "I'm not going to tell you."

"Why not?"

"Much too erotic to rehash."

"When did this happen?" she prodded, ignoring his comment.

"Not telling."

She groaned again. "You're no fun."

He lifted his eyebrows and knew she could see his eyes twinkling in response. "You want me to describe all of the filthy things I did to this woman? Are you that sexually frustrated?"

Beth scoffed. "No—"

"Because," he tapped his fingers against her arm, "I could just as easily reenact all of those things with you if you'd prefer."

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying that the offer is open if you feel the desire to accept it, and I would certainly not be opposed."

"What happened to the whole 'we've already had sex so there's no weird desire to do it again' thing?"

"I'm willing to make an exception."

She laughed, shaking her head firmly. "No."

"You're breaking my heart here, Beth."

"Get used to disappointment."

He stole a glance at her, surprised to see that she was looking at him too. For a moment, the two of them held each other's gaze, small smiles still dancing upon their faces. She still seemed to be holding on to a bit of guilt, Sirius noticed, and likely would for quite some time; but, at this moment, she also seemed to be smiling the same kind of smile that had been there all that summer. At this exact moment, she seemed genuinely content, even despite the events of the evening. At this moment, she was entirely present, and he was here too, and nothing else mattered.

She was the one who finally broke her eyes away, lifting up her wrist to look at her watch. "It's only 10:30," she stated before standing up and grabbing her coat. "Do you want ice cream?"

"Ice cream?"

"I was almost a homewrecker. I am in desperate need of ice cream." She shrugged the garment on and stuffed her hands into her pockets. "Do you want to get some with me?"

"Right now?"

"I mean, I'm not putting on this coat because I'm cold." She looked down at it, then brought her eyes back up to his.

She has a point, he thought to himself. Standing up, he grabbed his leather jacket. "Let's go, then."

Twenty minutes later, the two of them were walking back to her apartment, pints of ice cream in hand thanks to the convenience store down the road. It was slightly warm for November, but small gusts of wind chilled quickly, and his hands were suffering from the frozen treat in his hand. Transferring the container, he listened to Beth continue to explain why waffles were her favorite over pancakes, doing his best not to laugh at the passion surrounding her arguments.

They'd been trading favorite things off and on since they'd left her apartment, the first question being which of her professors was her favorite, which had earned him a very sharp elbow to his side. She'd asked him which of his friends were his favorite in return, which resulted in a thorough debate regarding the appropriateness of rating friends before finally deciding that no matter what, it was not Peter. She'd pretended to be shocked and surprised, and he'd asked her if she could genuinely argue against that, and then they had walked into the store.

It felt very reminiscent of their date at the zoo trading firsts. That day had ended disastrously, and could even be argued that it was what brought their relationship to an end. This day, though, this felt different. Lighter. Less tense. Not laden with sexual tension, not that he'd necessarily be opposed to that. She was directing them back to her apartment a different way from which they came, and Sirius found himself hoping that it was to prolong the conversation. The more they talked, the more he realized he still didn't know about her, even considering the fact that they had practically lived together for three months and dated for a majority of it.

He liked it, though. She was… unique.

"I've got one," she said, taking another spoonful. "Favorite subject in school."

He shook his head. "We had different subjects than what you had."

"Like what?"

"My last year there, I took Defense Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, Transfiguration, and Muggle Studies."

Beth's face scrunched up in confusion. "What about math?"

"We didn't have math."

"What kind of school doesn't have math?"

"I told you, it was different."

"Yeah, but I thought you meant elective-wise. Like pottery making."

"I think one year we had a sculpting class." He took a big scoop of ice cream, then quickly dropped it back into the container. "Or no, it was a class on Michaelangelo and how he used magic to create the— Or maybe that was Muggle Studies."

"Wait, what about Michaelangelo?"

He turned around, noticing that she had stopped walking. "What?"

"Did you say that he used magic to create—"

"Beth, be reasonable. You can see the veins in David's hands. Surely it's not impossible to come to the conclusion that he used magic to help with that."

Beth's jaw dropped. "Michaelangelo was a wizard?!" she screamed.

Remus' words from the night before came into his mind: Don't give away anything crucial to the bane of our existence.

Well done, Sirius, he thought to himself.

Sirius quickly came to her side, chastisingly hushing her. "What are you on about? You can't scream something like that outside where anyone can hear."

"Sorry," she apologized, her confusion still intact. "I'm sorry, but— really?!"

"There are many people very talented at passing off their abilities as genius to the public. Which, of course, doesn't make the work any less genius—"

"Like who?!"

He chuckled, motioning for them to continue walking. "What, you think I'm going to just start spouting out names?"

"I fully expect you to do that, yes."

He shook his head. "I'm not going to tell you anymore."

"Oh, please?" she begged.

"No."

"What if I guess one?"

"Beth, there are people that have worked very hard to maintain this secret." Not to mention Remus would kill him if he ever found out that he'd let this slip.

"That's not going to stop me from guessing."

"I'm not going to—"

"Frank Sinatra."

Sirius sighed. "Beth."

"John Lennon. Or no, Paul McCartney."

He stirred his ice cream, trying to find more chocolate chunks. "No, none of the Beatles."

"Elton John."

"No."

"Jack Nicholson. Al Pacino. Diane Keaton."

He actually had a suspicion about Diane Keaton, but he shook his head. "No, none of those."

"Freddie Mercury."

His gait faltered and his eyes went wide.

Beth took immediate notice and squealed, "Oh my God, really?!"

"No," he shushed her again, "Freddie Mercury is not."

"I don't believe you!"

"I promise you, he's not."

She groaned loudly. "Then why did you hesitate?"

Her eyes were gleaming in excitement, and he couldn't stop himself from admitting, "One of the members of Queen is."

Now Remus would really kill him.

"Which one?!"

"I wasn't there while he was, but I think Molly might have been," Sirius said, thinking back to the stories he'd heard about the person in question. "But then he went to university and started doing…other things."

But Beth was not interested in his pursuits after Hogwarts. "Is it Brian May? Is that how his hair stays up?"

"I'm not telling you."

"It's Brian May, isn't it?" She gasped suddenly, taking a hold of his arm. "Is it Roger Taylor?"

"You're grasping at straws."

She sighed heavily, mumbling as she ran her spoon through her ice cream. "What is the point of even being friends with you, then? Why would you tell me something like that and then refuse to see it through?"

He smiled wickedly. "What would you give me to tell you?"

"I would literally right now do whatever you wanted."

A variety of options immediately came to mind. "Really."

"Like look, you see this ice cream right here?" She held up her container like a trophy. "I will literally dump it down my shirt for you to tell me that Brian May—"

"Would you let me lick it up?"

The words were out before he even considered them. Beth's eyes flashed in surprise before she brought her focus back on the carton, stuffing a spoonful into her mouth. "Shut up," she murmured.

"I didn't hear a 'no'."

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, don't tell me that you wouldn't."

She hesitated.
"You're considering it, aren't you?" He laughed, drawing her in with an arm around her shoulder and placing his mouth by her ear. "What else might you be tempted to do?"

Beth slid out of his arm easily, glaring up at him. "I hate you."

"Why, because I'm suddenly very interested in what you're offering?"

"I'm just wounded that you won't tell me this simply out of the kindness of your heart."

He shrugged. "We're not that close."

"What are you on about? I bought you ice cream!"

"And yet you won't let me eat it out of the bowl of my choosing."

She rolled her eyes, but Sirius saw her cheeks tinge with color under the lamplight. "I hate you," she repeated.

It was not convincing.

"No, you don't," he teased.

She sighed. "No, I don't, but I hate this. Do you realize this is the second time tonight you've propositioned me?"

"This is the second time tonight that the idea has been extremely appealing."

Beth laughed. "Well, then this is also the second time I'm going to have to tell you to stop."

"Yes ma'am," Sirius conceded, taking another large bite. The two of them continued to walk, the sound of spoons scraping cartons the only soundtrack accompanying them. When they turned the corner, Sirius announced, "I have a question."

"You never answered mine!"

"I told you, I'm not telling you—"

"No, no, your favorite class."

"Muggle studies," he threw out without hesitation. "Now—"

"Why Muggle studies?"

He quickly searched his brain for an answer. "Because I got to find out about people like Farah Fawcett and Raquel Welch and who in Queen is a wizard."

Her eyes went wide with expectation. "Is it John Deacon?"

"Beth—"

"I'll bet it's actually Freddie Mercury and you're just trying to throw me off," she huffed, kicking a rock in her path aside. "Or Brian May. It might be Brian May. I think it's Brian May."

"My question," he interrupted.

"Wait," Beth said, grabbing his arm again. He stopped walking at the sight of her serious demeanor, stoic and unchanging yet expecting. She gently ran her thumb across his sleeve, and despite the layers separating her from touching real skin, he felt a burn that had been missing since that summer. She took a small step towards him, and then he was stoic and unchanging yet expecting, and waited anxiously for her to speak.

"What?" he asked.

She looked deep into his eyes, searching for truth, before finally asking, "Is it Brian May?"

Sirius simply stared at her.

"Okay, fine, fine," she mumbled, pulling her hand away. "What's your question?"

"What exactly is it that you're studying?"

Beth eyed him curiously. "You don't know my major?"

"No, I know global economics," he explained, "and I know vague ideas of what you were doing at your internship, but what is the big goal at the end? What is it that you absolutely desire to do? Remus and I were discussing this earlier and realized that neither of us really knew what you were talking about when you were ranting about your paper."

"Why didn't you stop me, then?"

"Because Lily told us that if a girl is ever ranting, you just shut up and listen."

"Smart." She took a spoonful of ice cream, shoving it quickly into her mouth before a drop fell on the ground. "You know—" she swallowed her bite— "that's not a favorite thing question."

"I'm expanding the conversation."

Again, Beth stopped walking. He turned around and saw that genuine surprise danced lightly across her face. "You really want to know?"

He nodded. "Of course."

"If I see you getting bored, I'm going to stop."

"I won't get bored."

Her eyes shifted down, and she stirred her spoon aimlessly in her ice cream. "Everyone gets bored when I talk about this," she murmured.

Disappointment filled her voice, and Sirius wondered how often she'd been tuned out or ignored. He reached out and touched her shoulder. "I'm not everyone," he promised, surprising himself with the amount of sincerity that followed that. "And I genuinely want to know."

She looked at his hand, then up at him expectantly. "You do?" He nodded. "Why?"

Why indeed? he thought to himself, before realizing the answer was really very simple. "Because I don't know, and I'd like to."

She smiled softly, gazing up at him for a moment before quickly shifting her eyes away. She began walking forward again, and he let his hand drag down from her shoulder and down her arm before moving to catch up with her.

"Well," she began, "when I was in England with you, I was interning as a research analyst. I had to research all of these current events that could potentially affect the company and analyze the company's position in the midst of them. Then I would put together these presentations and reports and talk about how the economics of the situation applied to it all, how I predicted it could affect the company in the future, and come up with a bare-bones policy on how the company could address it. Then, if they liked the idea, they'd send it to the board and they would figure out how to word it and implement it and all that jazz. "

He chuckled, eyebrows raising high. "That sounds incredibly intense."

"Yeah, that's why I started having to stay later," she said, her eyes flicking up to him before refocusing on the path in front of her. "It takes a long time to think about and address all of the potential problems that any kind of situation could have. Then you have to make sure you're giving all of the facts and writing it in such a way that someone else could present it without any problems. That was my biggest issue, I kept on writing all of my reports as if I was the only one working on it. Wasn't clear enough. That's all I kept on hearing." Her voice lilted in a mocking accent. "'Not quite clear enough, dear.'"

Hindsight, he thought. Always 20/20.

"At the end though, weren't you doing a lot more?"

She nodded. "I actually gave a presentation to the board. I had to talk about how the number of people investing in their stock in the US was affecting their revenue globally and told them that they needed to create a marketing campaign to increase awareness here."

"So you're saying you're singlehandedly responsible for increasing their sales here?"

She shook her head. "Not sales so much as their global revenue."

He shrugged. "Is there a difference?"

"Revenue is the amount of money a company makes, sales are the amount of money a company makes due to whatever goods or services they provide," she explained. "Revenue is a result of sales. There's more than just sales that contribute to revenue."

"Okay."

Beth laughed loudly. "You hate this. I knew you'd hate this."

"No, I don't," he assured her. "I just don't know anything at all about what you're talking about."

"It's confusing, I know." She took another bite of ice cream. "I'll stop."

"No, no, no," he said, nudging her arm with his elbow. "As long as it's not confusing to you, that's what matters, right?"

"I guess so," she shrugged. "So my turn for a question—"

"No."

She looked up at him. "No?"

He shook his head. "You're not done."

Her eyebrows raised. "Oh, I'm not?"

"You have lots more to talk about, you're itching to, and I'm desperate to hear it."

She laughed again, doubtfulness overcrowding the mirth. "'Desperate to hear it.' As if."

"Am I wrong?"

She shifted the carton to her opposite hand, putting her other into her coat pocket. "I think you've been eating too much ice cream and it has made you weak."

"Quite possibly. There's certainly no other reason at all why I would want to learn about the person whose friendship I am forced to have."

Her jaw dropped in mock disbelief. "Forced to have? What am I, some kind of chore?"

"Well I can't very well go on hating the person who's letting me live with her momentarily, can I?"

She nodded. "You have a point there."

"So that's what you want to do, then?" Sirius took a final bite of his ice cream. "Research analytics?"

"Research analysis?" Beth corrected. She tilted her head thoughtfully. "If I stuck with research analysis, I'd be okay with that. I've talked it over with my advisor a couple of times though, and I think that I might go back to school, get my MBA, maybe go into portfolio management."

"Oh, okay."

There was a brief pause as a grin began to form on her face. "You have no idea what that is either, do you?"

"Not a clue, no."

"The basic idea is that I would be overseeing a couple of company projects and determining whether their investments are stable. So my goal is to help them get as good of a return on their investment as possible while keeping in mind all of the risks that could potentially hinder that."

"So more research?"

"So more research," she agreed. "Lots of economics jobs are all about research."

"And you enjoy that?"

Beth smiled. "Yeah, I do. It's interesting to see how something that happens in the US can affect a company in, say, France. Like the Great Depression, a lot of people associate that with solely the US, but it affected cities everywhere. The stock market crashed, which led to a decline in trade, which affected port cities and cities that thrived on steel or automobile industry. So in that situation as a portfolio manager, I'd take all of these factors into consideration and help a trading company create a plan that would help them generate revenue and maintain their assets in the midst of global disaster. And then that's good because, with my background in research analysis, I can use that to gain more insight into what I'd be doing as a portfolio manager."

Incredible.

That was the only word that came into Sirius' mind.

Incredible.

He was the one who stopped this time and stared at the person he thought he knew so well. He hadn't once taken the time to learn all of this while they'd been together, and he regretted it immensely. She had so clearly chosen a field that she cared about, was intrigued by and interested in, and all he could think about it was simply…

Incredible.

"I'm sorry, this has to be so boring for you."

He realized he hadn't responded to her after stopping, and quickly rectified it. "No, I'm genuinely interested."

"No, you're not."

"I truly am."

She shook her head. "Nobody's ever interested in this. It's boring and unexciting."

"You have not made it appear that way," he quickly responded. "This is the way children talk about being princes and princesses. What got you interested in this?"

She shifted the carton again, rubbing it up and down the side of her coat before transferring her other hand back into her pocket. "I'm not really sure," she admitted. "I definitely didn't grow up saying, 'I want to be a portfolio manager.' I don't know, I was in an economics class for a liberal arts requirement and picked up on everything quickly and thought I'd do some research on what kind of job opportunities there were. Now I'm one year away from graduating, I have an internship under my belt, and, I don't know." She smiled. "I'm excited."

He was staring at her again, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. The cheeks that had colored from embarrassment earlier were now pink from the breeze, and under the lamplight, she looked as though she had descended from heaven itself.

"What are you looking at me like that for?"

He spoke before he could think it properly through. "You're a truly incredible person, do you know that?"

Beth covered her face with her hands. "Stop."

"No, I'm serious," he said, not even bothering to make a joke about his name. "I honestly had no idea that you were this intelligent."

"I'm not 'intelligent,' I just—"

"No, this is intelligence."

"No, I just happened to find something that I'm good at. That's all."

"And that's not a form of intelligence?"

"That's me being lucky and taking an economics class."

"No." He shook his head, and the movement made her eyes drift back up to his. "You don't accidentally give a presentation to a board of directors as an intern. That wasn't luck," he said. "That's all you. That's intelligence."

Her breath hitched, her eyes flicking down before meeting back up with his. "Maybe," she whispered, shivering slightly.

"Are you cold?"

She shook her head again. "It's just my hands, I'm fine."

"Here," he said, taking her container from her hand and setting it down on the curb before holding his own hands out to hers. "Let me see them."

"What do you mean?"

"Let me see your hands."

Beth let out a shaky laugh, and quickly looked away. "Sirius, it's fine."

"Beth, I don't know what you're expecting, but I'm hardly going to jump you simply because you put your hands in mine." He didn't say another word, simply kept his hands extended, bouncing them once in front of her. She looked at him, an uncertain smile skirting around the corners of her mouth, then slowly placed her hands in his. He encircled her frozen palms in his, and brought them to his mouth, blowing hot air onto them steadily. Her fingers twitched slightly against his lips, and he resisted the very present urge to press a kiss to her hands, though just barely. He repeated the action once, twice, three times more, and slowly her hands began to feel warmer against his skin. Drawing them reluctantly away, he rubbed his hands over hers, suddenly noticing their proximity. In another time, in another place, it would have been so easy to close the distance. So very easy to brush the whisps of hair behind her ear, to trail his hands down her cheeks, to draw her in close.

Instead, he gazed deeply into her eyes, pleased that she refused to look away as well. "I'm sorry I've not asked you about this before."

"Asked about what?" she said breathlessly.

"About you."

She swallowed. "You know about me."

"I didn't know any of that," he said quietly. "I should know all of this, and I don't, and I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she replied quickly.

"No, it's not." His thumb brushed over her skin delicately. She let out a shaky breath, and it tickled his skin. "I should know about what you were doing and what your dreams and aspirations are, and I didn't have a clue. That's not okay."

"Well, we weren't really interested in being friends first," she whispered.

"Absolute rubbish at getting to know each other."

"Yeah, instead all I know is what you like to do in bed."

Thoughts, memories, desires (particularly involving the ice cream scenario she'd concocted earlier) skirted through his mind, and suddenly he knew it was unsafe for him to be standing so close to her thinking those thoughts. He moved to step away, though he was still tempted to continue holding on to her hand as they continued walking back to her apartment. "And as wonderful as a reminder as that is," he said, "that does not help our present situation."

Beth reached down, grabbing the cartons from the ground and throwing them into the bin down the way. "No, I guess it doesn't, does it?"

"But I'd like to get to know you better," he said. "If that's all right by you."

She grinned wide. "I think I'd be all right with that. I am a very interesting person."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Well, I mean, I can do magic, but yeah, you're interesting."

"Yes, but I singlehandedly increased global revenue for an entire company."

"I can turn into an animal at will."

"I have friends in about fifteen different countries."

"I've met David Bowie."

Beth laughed. "No, you haven't."

Sirius simply raised his eyebrows and continued walking.

"No you haven't," Beth repeated, though much less convinced.

He kept walking.

"Wait, why would you have— Is David Bowie a wizard too?!"

He kept walking.

A/N: Cases for one of the members of Queen being a wizard:

Freddie Mercury: Absolutely iconic, could sing four different octaves, and could manipulate his audiences into feeling like he was singing directly to them, even when standing all the way in the back.

Roger Taylor: Hits all of the falsetto notes in Bohemian Rhapsody, which my sister, who is a classically trained soprano, has trouble consistently hitting, and lowkey has typical Veela qualities.

Brian May: Currently 72 years old, and his hair is still ridiculously curly and voluminous. Also found time to complete his Ph.D. in astrophysics whilst being an astonishingly talented guitar player and creating some of the most iconic guitar riffs in all of creation.

John Deacon: Wrote the iconic "Another One Bites the Dust," then practically disappeared after Freddie's death, not too much unlike our own dear Slughorn (though hopefully has not had contact with any persons with an interest in the Dark Arts).

Beth certainly seems to think it could be Brian May; which one do you think it is?

Nimblescrivener, thank you for telling me it was okay to talk about Queen this much. Thank God for Spotify and era-appropriate music, though I think my coworkers are plotting to kill me for constantly blaring 70s music.

Also, it is quite possible that this story might now be 51 chapters. Only time will tell. Please stick with me as we find out together!