The first time Harry brought it up was on a Monday afternoon.

The little boy was staring intently at Sirius, his head resting on the palm of his hand, as if he were deep in thought over—well, whatever what a three-year-old might find important at that age. It was adorable, Sirius thought, because the expression was so grown up, but his little cheeks were so chubby and baby-like, and his pudge little hands were so soft, that the man had an urge to bite it off.

Thoughts like those didn't even startle him any more, after all, Sirius had already been on his godson's co-parenting train for three years and who knows how many more yet to come. What his seventeen-year-old self would throw up for even picturing it, his twenty-four-year-old self didn't even bat an eye at it any more... Even worse, he fully indulged in it, guilt-free.

"Snuffles, I think I've found the perfect girlfriend for you to marry."

Sirius blinked a few times. Pardon? That was the last thing he expected Harry to say at the moment, in fact, he didn't even know Harry knew what being married consisted of. Despite their conversations about Lily, Harry have always been surrounded by the most intimacy-avoidant type of bachelors to live — all in their special little way, of course, but scared shitless of serious relationship nonetheless.

If it was Prongs, or Moony or even Remus' boss, Mrs. Lee, he wouldn't bat an eye. Ever since Sirius had moved out of James' cottage, his friends hadn't stopped making small comments about women who worked with them, or one of Harry's younger teachers, or whoever they were talking to that week, who they thought would be so perfect for Sirius to get to know.

Did he have some glowing sign on his forehead that read, 'Sirius Black is incredibly lonely and in need of company that lasts more than one night.'? Honestly... Perhaps he was feeling a bit blue since he moved out, yes, the cottage was eerily quiet and that made him on edge, sure... But Sirius wasn't on his deathbed, he was only twenty-four years old, still extremely young—thank you, very much. If he wanted to find this oh, so great love of his life, he didn't need to hurry now—if. Besides, he already had everything he needed; he had a job he loved, his family well and safe, and the precious little guy who eyed him from the other side of the desk.

Much more than Sirius ever thought he'd be able to have.

"Have you now, Haz?" he still indulged his godson, nonetheless. Not only because saying 'no' to Harry was something Sirius hadn't mastered yet, but also because the man couldn't deny feeling a bit curious over what Harry would consider 'perfect' for him.

Children always had the strangest ideas, and his godson wasn't trying to actually set him up, like his friends were—so this could be funny, instead of infuriating.

Maybe it was a mother of a friend, or one of the teachers at the Muggle pre-school he attended. It wouldn't be the first time a Potter had tried to pair him up with a teacher before, but Sirius wouldn't be daft enough to even think of considering it, after the aftermath of that disastrous first time.

"Mhmm, uncle Moony's lady friend."

Sirius took his attention away from the list he was reviewing in his desk. Moony's lady friend? Since when did Remus have any friends other than them? If the extroverted Sirius, who was all and about every single weekend, was considered lonesome, he couldn't even phantom what Remus would be called then. An eremite? A hermit?

Sirius searched his brain for any potential answer.

"Is it Lea from the supermarket?"

Harry shook his head.

"Mary from the bookshop?" No.

"Miss Neen?" No, again.

"Kiddo, uncle Moony haven't spoken with more than six women is his entire life. Aaand I just mentioned half... I don't know, I think you're making this perfect woman up..." Sirius teased.

"I'm not! Ask dad, he came to pick me up from uncle Moony's yesterday! She even bought me one of those chocolate oranges!" Harry argued.

Sirius put his hands up, "OK, OK... So Moon's lady friend bought you chocolate... and what? I must marry her now, is that it?... That's been your evil plan all along, hasn't it?"

Harry giggled in his spot, shoulders shaking. The fact that the shop was basically empty at this hour of the afternoon, and that he had closed his office door earlier, made Sirius thank the gods momentarily; because the way that that little speck of a person has always been able to turn him into mush on the spot, would seriously tarnish his reputation forever... Not that James and Remus knew anything about this so-called "reputation", but his employees and the rest of the wizarding world still respected him; they thought he was cool.

"You want me to suffer to indulge your addiction? 'Cos I can do it... Only if you're willing to pay the price of the… Hook!"

Green eyes widened from across the room, and Harry was getting up from his seat to try to gain leverage, squealing a, "Nooo! No, you don't need to marry her!"

His short legs couldn't save him from Sirius, who came jumping after him, picking Harry up and throwing him back on the couch. Harry's laugh intensified, whilst wiggling his legs, trying to break free. All in vain, as Sirius had already got him where he wanted, and started tickling the boy, who laughed and laughed.

It wasn't until Harry tried to say, between wheezing and callings, "Pads—I can't breathe," that Sirius let him go, plopping down beside him on the soft sofa.

The two were silent for a few seconds, Harry with his legs over Sirius' thighs as they both tried to catch their breath. Sweet Merlin, he seriously needed to start exercising soon—even Harry, who had smaller lungs than his, was already breathing normally and Sirius wasn't.

Yep, that's it. Jogging with James and quit smoking for good were this New Year's resolutions... since '82, OK, but Sirius had a feeling that this year would be the one he'd finally do it.

"She said my hair was metal and let me listen to music on her Walkman."

Sirius let a confused, "What?"

"Your future wife!" Harry replied, with a grin that was scarily similar to his father's, when he was up to no good.

"Oh, my future wife... I don't know, mate, based on what you're saying, sounds like she's more like your future wife than mine... Giving you gifts, complimenting that lion's mane..." he messed up the boy's hair.

A warm colour dusted Harry's cheeks, while he kicked Sirius' thighs with the hell of his foot, embarrassed. The older man yelped, giving the boy's calve a light pinch; Harry then took it as a challenge, trying to kick his godfather once more.

Sirius grabbed both of his legs by the ankles, grinning,

"Do you want a visit from the Hook again?"

Harry shook his head frantically, "No, no! I'll behave, I promise!"

The matter seemed to be buried there, as seconds later, Harry had got up and asked if he could play with Sid, one of Sirius' employees, in the front — the wife topic already forgotten.

.

The second time Harry brought it up was a week later, on a Friday.

That Friday in particular was an opening-the-old-bottle-of-expensive-liquor type of night. Remus had finally finished his first beloved manuscript, and they were going to have a family dinner to celebrate it... the only problem being that Remus himself was the best cook among them, and he wouldn't leave the bookshop until much tardier, so James was in charge of not ruining the dish until the werewolf got home... Well, at least they had magic, Sirius thought, and the risotto recipe Remus had scribbled down for them before leaving—step by step.

Sirius was sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by shopping bags, while flipping through a Muggle car's magazine. It was an old issue, not that interesting if he was being honest, but a bloke had come up to the store early that day and asked if they worked with 'the classics', so now Sirius was researching anything to do with those so entitled classics. Harry was sitting next to him, but on one of the chairs, as he sketched away in one of the empty corners of the table James had set up for him.

A nice, jazzy song was playing in the background, when Harry suddenly slammed both palms down the table, and said, "I forgot to show you something!", before bending down and shoving his hand inside his rucksack.

"Here," Harry reached out, stuffing a piece of white parchment almost up Sirius' left nostril. He jumped back exaggeratedly, making Harry laugh.

"Humpf, and what does this murder weaponry might be?" Sirius asked, taking the parchment and moving it a good few centimetres away from his face.

"It's a drawing, Pads," he replied as if it were obvious. "See, this one right here is uncle Moony, he's holding so many bags because we went to the shop. And this is—"

Whiffs of strawberry scented hair product attacked Sirius' nose, as Harry came up so close to him that wavy black hair began to tickle the older man's cheek whenever the boy moved around. Sirius patted the flies down, thinking that just like his father, Harry grew up with no sense of personal space and that if it were anyone else, Sirius would've done more than padding their hair down.

Perhaps he did have some deep-rooted intimacy issues…

"—I thought about drawing you two holding hands, but I've never seen you holding a girl's hand, so I decided not," Harry was still talking, gesturing to specific spots of the drawing.

Sirius then looked at the parchment in his hand, taking a closer look at the child's scribbles. To be honest, it wasn't that bad, Harry's drawings had improved a lot... Now Sirius could clearly distinguish who the humans were from the trees and other animals.

Painted in chalk was a field, a way too bright blue sky to be England, and in the middle several stick-figure people. Prongs was easy to recognize, by the messy hair, the glasses, and specifically the arrow that pointed down at him, written 'dad'. Beside him was Harry, holding a… brown ball in his hands—

"Why are you holding poop? Still having trouble reaching the potty on time?"

Harry snapped his head back with an angry look on his face, almost giving Sirius a ticket to St Mungus with a broken nose, "S'not poop! I just told you, it's chocolate orange."

Oh, he definitely still hadn't mastered the potty.

"Harry has a poo-poo hand! Eww,"

As the boy hotly yapped something about Sirius being the one with the poo-poo hands, the man turned his attention back to the drawing. Remus was on the other side of James, really carrying several food bags in his arm. On the left, next to Harry, was another stick that since it had long hair, Sirius assumed was a woman, and leaning an arm over her head, was... he?

"Why am I using this woman as an arm rest?"

"Because uncle Moony said she's the perfect height for it. And look, she's frowning, because she is annoyed."

"Who is annoyed?"

James decided to show up just then, walking into the kitchen and shaking his wet hair all over the place, earning loud complaints from the other two.

"Now I am," Sirius said dryly, rubbing his shirt sleeve over his face.

Harry snatched the parchment from his godfather's hand and turned to his father.

"Snuffles' girlfriend."

James' head had snapped around so fast, that all the drops of water Sirius had just wiped from his face, returned with strength.

"Pad—"

Before James could jump into hasty conclusions, Sirius put his hand up, "Don't—It's not that."

Great, Sirius thought, it was just what he needed right now. The two Potters banding together to make a mess of his life, not that they didn't do that already, but the Black men weren't known for having a large amount of patience.

"No? What is it, then?" James didn't seem to believe his best friend at all, looking at Sirius like one did at an insect under a magnifying glass.

"Ask your son, he's the one who's been saying he's found my future wife."

James looked from Sirius to Harry, taking in the annoyed face of one and the toothless grin of the other.

"I didn't say wife, I said girlfriend! But, daaaad," the boy whined, "she owns a record store! And she likes me! And uncle Moony curses in front of her!"

"And is the perfect height to rest your arm on, which apparently is a very important quality for the woman of my dreams to have," Sirius rolled his eyes, pretending to be more miffed than he actually was, as he watched Harry hand over the parchment to James. Wait...record store? And Moony being 'inappropriate' in front of a stranger?—

The adult Potter's cackles cut through Sirius' curiosity.

"Oh, this is pure gold. The woman of his dreams, you said?" James looked at Sirius, then looked at the drawing and burst out laughing again.

"Why are you laughing, dad?"

That was an excellent question, one that Sirius also wanted the answer to it, himself.

James then handed the drawing back to Harry, and shook his head with an idiotic grin on his idiotic face.

"Nothing, nothing. Life is just hilarious, sometimes."

.

The third time, it wasn't even Harry who brought it up — but his father.

It was on one of their weekly self-titled, "Grown-ups' Nights", which Remus had founded years before, when both of his friends had stopped on time, and James barely left their old flat, barely ate, didn't go out even if he needed to... He had to physically drag the two boys before and, now, every Friday night James would pay Molly Weasley a few Galleons — and her eldest, Bill, too when he was on Holiday— to watch over Harry for a few hours, while the three Marauders went off to do anything that wasn't G rated.

The men weren't as creative as they used to be in their Hogwarts years, and the adult world, as weird as it was to think about it, didn't have that many options for "adult fun" as it had for children—well, at least ones that didn't include anything sexual, or sort of illegal. James was an Auror, for Melin's sake. And despise how much they loved each other, neither wanted to spend their Friday night seeing their friend pop a boner in the seat next to theirs... So you could usually find them at the Three Broomsticks. More specifically, in one of the back tables, where they'd always sat since their teenage years, sporting a few snacks and tumblers of Firewhiskey and Butterbeers on the table.

"D'you know, Moony... that Harry has been trying to set Pads up?" was what James had said mid-conversation, earning a high groan from Sirius on his left.

"For fuck's sake, not this again!"

"Has he, now?" Remus asked. If he was surprised, he wasn't showing it; honestly, at some point or another Harry would start to pester Sirius about it too, it was in his blood... Well, no exactly blood, more at his home. They all lived tangled and messily put their noses into each other's business all the time, if there was a line somewhere, none of Harry's parental figures learned enough of it to pass it on to him priorly. "Is it... Miss Lynch?"

They both laughed out loud at Sirius' disgusted expression, after taking a big swig from his firewhiskey. Merlin had mercy on his soul! Miss Lynch was one of Harry's Muggle teachers, several years older than him, with a habit of wearing a horrid amount of perfume and smiling way too coquettishly at him every time he went to pick up his godson from school.

"Harry likes me, unlike the lots of you," Sirius scoffed, turning his face away theatrically. "Or not, since he's been yapping right and left about this witch since he met her—and all thanks to you, Moony."

Sirius had an ironic smile on his face.

He had a better sense of humour than that, Sirius swore. If they had made those exact jokes three months prior, Sirius would have topped it with one of his own, it'd be way too sexual and a bit disgusting, but just enough to make him and his mates laugh and have a good time… but it wasn't three months ago; they were making it now. And those jokes clearly came from a place of truth and worry, that was so annoyingly nonsensical in Sirius opinion. Goddammit, he was fine!

Remus frowned, one of his chips hovering mid-air, "Is it?"

"Yeah, hear this out Moony," James had a wide grin on his face as he laid his hand on Remus' shoulder, "Apparently, there's this lady friend of yours that is perfect for Padfoot... Long hair, owns a record store, you curse in front of her... Ring any bell?"

There was a moment of silence where Remus seemed to ponder for a while, and then,

"Oh, Merlin—"

The werewolf couldn't help himself, and started to laugh through the hand covering his chewing mouth. James followed, throwing his head back and everything, making Sirius even more annoyed at being at the same time the butt and the one left out of the joke.

"That kid is brilliant," Remus said, between Sirius' grumbles.

.

The day Sirius met his so-called 'future wife' happened to fall on a gloomy Thursday.

His godson's picking-up schedule from pre-school was quite simple: Monday was Sirius' day, then the next it'd be James', and that sequence would repeat on and on; and if for some reason, neither could get there on time, then Remus would leave the bookshop to pick up the little one for them.

Today was one of those days, where Sirius had sent a letter to Remus letting him know that he might not be able to make it on time, and so the werewolf was supposed to pick up his godson and stay with him at the shop until Sirius was able to get there.

His wristwatch read 16:30 by the time Sirius was able to even take a breather from the boring paper work, so he didn't even bother going to the muggle school to see if Harry was still there, since Remus was always the most punctual of them, the man knew he wouldn't be there any more. Since it was Thursday, and Thursdays were almost Fridays, which basically meant it was technically the weekend, Sirius decided he'd indulge a bit and stop by a bakery to buy some pastries for them to eat. Everything that his buff mate prohibited at the house on the weekdays. Remus would also like that, Sirius thought, since he probably didn't have anything besides his morning tea and that's it — that man had a horrid habit of not eating properly while he was occupied.

Opening the door to Remus' workplace with his shoulders, Sirius exclaimed, "I exchange goods for the nearest men's loo occupancy!"

The bookshop that Remus worked was located in a little street that vaguely reminded Sirius of Diagon Alley, but a muggle version. Scratch that, it didn't look that similar if he was being honest, excluding the fact that both consisted of a funnily narrow street with stores on both sides. It wasn't very big from the outside looking in, but the store had plenty of space inside; Lots and lots of wooden shelves dotted most of the space, books scattered at every corner, including Remus', who was standing behind the front desk.

He'd got this job exactly two years ago, which had solved most of his problems—well, at least the financial ones. The owner, Mrs Lee, a little lady Sirius believed to be bordering on seventy (not that he was certain, since he was gentleman enough to know not to ask a lady's age, and also because wizards and muggles aged differently), also had never had children, and since her husband had passed away, she was having trouble organizing the shop alone with only her niece to help. As an accident of fate, Remus had got lost in that part of London one day and ended up taking the vacancy the same day.

The werewolf didn't even lift his head to acknowledge his friend, muttering something incomprehensible under his mouth as he continued to write on a blue clipboard.

Placing the pastries box in a free corner of the desk, where there were no boxes of books waiting to be sorted, Sirius looked around… It was too silent… and his legs were devoid of little arms hugging it...

"Where is the prat?"

Remus sniffed the air, "Oh, you brought muffins!", then opened the box next to him. "Harry's at The Dark Side," he said between bites, already making a mess of himself with the blueberry bits.

"The dark side?"

Remus rolled his eyes slightly, "Dark Side is a store front to ours."

"As if that explains it!" Sirius put his hands on his hips as his concern level started rising to an alarming level. What Harry had taught him all this time was that he needed to take better care of his health, because his heart would kill him some day with how many stressful situations Harry had put him through. "Who's there with him? Remus, he's three! He can't wander around by himself!"

If the werewolf wasn't so focused on devouring what was his first meal of the day, he'd stop everything to laugh at his friend antics. Remus was one of the rare people that could say that he knew Sirius Black quite well, other than James, and yet moments like these took him so by surprise, that Remus couldn't help but compare him to the version of the friend he'd lived with in his teens. Sirius, despite everything, still liked to maintain the 'cool guy' pose; the kind that always said, 'let the boy play', and flicked his wrist with little care, but when the boy was in fact playing, Sirius was the one who didn't take his eyes off him for even a minute; wand in hand, mouth slightly ajar, as if ready to save Harry from any imminent danger that he might face... from jumping on James', apparently, way too high mattress — his words.

"Calm down, dadfoot, he's fine. James and I are friends with the owner, plus I've got my eyes on him at all times," Remus said, "Can't you see his little head from here?"

Oh, Sirius actually could...

The bookshop's glass doors faced exactly the glass doors of the store ahead, and in the right corner, sitting on a counter similar to Remus', almost completely hidden by one of the shelves, was his godson; moving his head up and down... What on earth was he doing there?

The scene made Sirius want to let out a relieved sigh, so much so that he didn't even notice the mischievous grin that had spread across Remus' face.

"Harry is probably starving, he hasn't stopped a second since he got here... Why don't you go fetch him?"

Sirius didn't need to be told twice.

The Dark Side, the man had realized upon entering, was not a place of dark magic as he had previously thought, but a... music store.

A bell rung as he stepped in, but no one had come to greet him yet.

"Haz?" he called.

From the loudspeakers, a husky voice accompanied a type of punkish tune, one that Sirius had no idea what it was, but he found that he quite liked it. The place smelled nice, was the first thing he'd noticed, something woodsy but sweet at the same time — nothing alike other music stores he's visited before. Similar to the bookshop, most of it was adorned with rows of shelves, but these came up to his hips maximum and filled with vinyl records and LPS, instead of books.

Everywhere he looked he found something else that he liked; the vinyls on the wall, the band posters, the blue puffs on the corners and an electric Gibson lying around.

This looked like a personal paradise of his, even if Sirius wasn't as active on the music scene as he used to be in his teens... Man, his sixteen-year-old self would've never left this place, if he had stumbled upon it years before.

On one of the walls to the left, there was a mosaic of framed vinyls that had some sort of neon light underneath it, drawing your eyes to it. One in specific caught Sirius' attention.

"Bloody hell!" he hissed, when he realized that the 'A Night at the Opera' vinyl with two huge scribble on both sides, were apparently Brian May's and Roger Taylor's own autographs! Sirius ran his finger over the glass that protected the album, feeling tiny tingles of magic all over the place.

"Afternoon, sorry for not coming sooner. I hope you weren't waiting for too long," a female voice came from behind him.

Sirius stopped on the spot, wait... he knew that voice...

"Oh, so you've found my precious," she chuckled, but Sirius didn't get the joke, "Are you a big Queen's fan? I still got some of their newest album on stock, if you want a recommendation."

He knew that voice, he knew that breathy laugh. It couldn't be...

Then, turning around hastily, like someone who never liked to be taken by surprise, his 'couldn't be' became 'it already is' very quickly.

If there was anyone that Sirius didn't think he'd run into on a Thursday afternoon, working in a Muggle music store specially, it was Talia Maverick! Merlin, he hadn't seen her since, what?... Probably his last year at Hogwarts, yeah, when she was still in her sixth with his brother.

Oh, god…

Sirius felt a sudden urge to start laughing as his brain started to connect the loose wires... Now it all made sense!... The jokes, the knowing grins and the looks that Moony and Prongs exchanged whenever the topic of "Moony's lady friend" came up.

Of course, who else could it be?

"My, oh my. If it's not the famous Sirius Black stepping into my humble little nook," Maverick crossed her arms, an amused glint crossing her eyes. The total opposite of Sirius, who still had his mouth hanging open, the now woman didn't seem the least bit surprised to see him there, though her words revealed that she didn't actually know.

If his friends were with him right now, they'd be laughing at Sirius like they've never laughed before… After all the quips, all the eye-rolls and annoyance, the little motherfucker couldn't turn out to be right at the end:

Harry had really found the perfect woman for Sirius.

.

.

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a/n: best way to practice writing your ocs annnndd get rid of writer's block (from ur other works) is to write *another* fanfic, isn't that just marvellous? maybe writing something short will give me enough dopamine that i'll continue writing my longer ones.