Chapter 11 – The Morning After The Night Before
Disclaimer: We do not own anything that is recognisable as J. K. Rowling's.
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"Mmm..." Heather woke up slowly, keeping her eyes shut to resist having to wake up fully yet. She moved her hand along the bed, trying to reach her bedside table and retrieve her watch so she could find out what time it was. Feeling her way, she suddenly froze as she touched naked flesh. Male, naked flesh.
Opening one eye cautiously, her vision was filled with a bare, muscular chest and she gulped. What had she done? She slid her eyes upwards, trying to find out who it was, and was shocked to discover Sirius' face, relaxed in sleep.
Uh-oh.
Heather winced slightly and tried to slide out from under the covers and get out of the bed before he woke up. Lifting the sheet away from her, she made another shock discovery. She was not wearing any clothes! Ok, so she was wearing underwear, but where were the rest? What had she done last night?
Just for reference sake, Heather lifted the sheet slightly on Sirius' side and was relieved to find that he was wearing trousers. It couldn't have got too wild then...
"Heather? What are you doing?"
Hurriedly replacing the sheet, Heather brought her eyes back up to Sirius' face again, to find his eyes open and their blue depths watching her with barely concealed amusement. They flicked down over her and she gasped, trying to hide herself with the sheet again before he saw too much.
"Err... Nothing!" she squeaked and blushed fierily when he glanced over her form again, barely concealed beneath the sheet that was worn with age. She tried to get up again, this time taking the sheet with her, but could only manage to sit up as it was trapped under his body.
"What are you doing?" he said groggily, obviously still half-asleep. "Come back here..." With no trouble at all, he pulled her back on the bed and into his strong embrace. "That's better."
Heather gulped. "Err... Sirius..." She tried to wriggle out of his hold.
"Don't do that," he mumbled gruffly in her ear and he dragged her closer to make her still.
"Sirius! Stop it!"
"Stop what? I haven't done anything... yet." The softly spoken suggestion in her ear made an unfathomable emotion rise in her on top of the rapidly increasing wave of panic.
"Sirius! Let me-"
He interrupted her speech by claiming her lips in a gentle kiss.
She melted into it for an instant before realising what she was doing. She had to get away before he discovered her real feelings. Dragging herself away from him, she grabbed his robe that was draped over the back of a chair and shrugged it on.
"Sirius, I have to go…"
"Shame." Sirius was sprawled bonelessly across the bed, giving her a look that Heather had only seen in her fantasies. Her eyes widened and she gulped. Anyone who looked like that after having just woken up should be arrested.
"I'll see you later," she squeaked before rounding the bed and backing towards the door, her eyes caught with his. The last sight she saw before she shut the door him getting up and moving towards her, a determined look in his eyes. She ran to her bedroom and locked the door behind her – not to stop him getting in, but to stop her getting out.
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"Heather?"
There was a gentle knock on the door and Heather jumped. Walking slowly towards the noise, she opened the door a crack and peered into the space.
"Yes?"
"I thought you might like your clothes… I mean, I know you have more than one set of clothes, but I thought you might like these ones back," Sirius said hesitantly and Heather thought that he looked so sweet, standing in the hallway, looking like he wanted to dump her clothes on the floor and run in the opposite direction. She was sure he'd been in this sort of situation before and wondered why he looked so nervous.
Opening the door a little more, Heather smiled slightly, realising she was acting like a frightened virgin. "I suppose you would like your robe back too…" She backed away and he opened the door a little wider, depositing the clothes on a chair near the door.
He watched her pick up the robe that had found itself lying in the middle of her bed and give it to him, trying to avoid touching his hand as she passed it over.
Sirius frowned a little. "Uh… I also wanted to say I'm sorry for last night – this morning. I was…"
"You're sorry?" she interrupted, aghast. "I'm meant to be the one who's sorry! I practically threw myself at you! And you were too much of a gentleman to say no…"
"You threw… Me gentleman?" Sirius murmured incomprehensibly, a bemused look on his face. "If I was a gentleman, then I wouldn't have put you into my bed, climbed in with you and then, as soon as you woke up, proceed to… well, seduce you!"
"Eh? I was the one who was drunk, all over you and I personally think that I instigated it all! I was the one in control of the situation and I should have stopped! I was acting like a whore!"
"A whore?" Sirius fought to hide grin. "You the least whore-like person that I know! I mean, you're practically an innocent…" He trailed off as he realised that, instead of making her feel better, he was probably making her feel worse.
"An innocent? You think I'm an innocent?" Heather wanted to laugh and cry. She did the only thing that was necessary in a situation like this: took revenge. "I'll show you innocent!" she cried as she dragged him into her arms, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him with a fiery passion that almost blew him away.
Without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, lifting her up slightly off the ground so he could reach her mouth more easily: she was so tiny.
Her hands found his shoulders and clung on for dear life as he deepened the kiss and she thought that she had never felt anything so wonderful… and then it stopped.
She was deposited on the ground and he had backed away a few steps. Sirius stood there, staring at her, his breathing ragged but his eyes thoughtful.
Heather gulped and tried for some humour. "Well, I definitely instigated that!"
"You sure did," he admitted gruffly and her eyes widened.
"Why are you all the way over there? Was it no good?" she asked, a little worriedly. After all, she had just thrown herself at him and she still had no idea of his feelings on the matter.
Sirius swallowed hard, considering his next words; he had a feeling they would change the course of the next few weeks. "It was perfect," he decided and Heather glowed with pleasure.
"Which brings me back to my original question: why are you all the way over there?"
"I don't know," he confessed but still made no attempt to move. "I need time to think about this…" Sirius started to move towards the door, leaving his forgotten robe in a crumpled heap on the floor. "We'll talk later, ok?"
He closed the door quietly behind him and Heather stood, staring at the door for a long moment, before picking his robe up and hugging it to her, breathing in his scent that still lingered on the fabric.
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After hiding in her room for a couple of hours to let her embarrassment die down, Heather tiptoed downstairs and into the kitchen in search of a remedy to help her hangover.
When she opened the medicine cabinet, she was amazed to find about fifty different cures for her problem, all tried and most out-of-date; she didn't think Sirius drank that much.
Picking through the sticky bottles, she decided to try an almost normal looking blue vial aptly named 'Madame Helga's Hangover Remedy – works for even those tough-to-beat symptoms'. Heather squinted, trying hard to read the blurry instructions on the side of the bottle.
"Found what you were looking for?" a dry voice asked from the doorway and Heather spun round, startled, to see Sirius leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, looking at her with a half-smile on his face.
"Uh… yes, thanks."
He padded indolently towards her and Heather froze, still in the throes of this morning's activities, and anxiously shrank away.
Sirius stopped close in front of her and, eyeing her obvious distress, prised the bottle from her fingers and read the instructions on the back. After a while, his gaze flicked back to her face. "It should be fine if you take a couple of spoonfuls now," he said as he handed the bottle back, his pale eyes intent on her face. It was all Heather could do not to lean into him.
He stepped backwards quickly, as though knowing the effect he had on her, and avoided her eyes. "I'm going to go out this evening, so don't wait up for me," he declared expressionlessly, his normally bright eyes, now dull and unreadable.
"Oh." Heather didn't know what to say. "Well, enjoy yourself," she said, equally expressionlessly and fixed him with a defiant glare. "I hope whoever she is is worth it." She moved away, cursing herself for revealing her feelings.
Sirius watched her go without saying a word and let himself out of the backdoor, changing into dog-form as he ran into the forest at the back of the house.
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Heather sank down on the sofa and frowned dejectedly. He was going out again?
"He's obviously serious about this other girl he was seeing… well, more serious than he is with me. I mean, he did come on to me this morning, but he's a bloke and he'd just woken up from what probably was a dream about his girlfriend and then thought I was her." Heather sighed miserably – her reliving of events not helping her mood any.
A flickering in the grate made her look up suddenly, just as Branson's head appeared. He climbed out of the fireplace and stood before her, a cheerful smile brightening his handsome features. The situation oddly reminded her of a Muggle fairytale, 'Cinderella', and the thought of Branson Leggett as a fairy godmother, let alone hers, made her burst into hysterical giggles.
Branson's smile faded when he looked upon the woman in front of him, her face streaked with tears and yet laughing madly. "What's wrong? What happened?"
"Hmmm?" Heather stopped laughing and gazed up at him. "What do you mean? Nothing's the matter."
"Like I'm going to believe that. Look at yourself, woman!" Branson magicked a mirror and placed it in front of her face, letting her see her ravaged face.
"Good God, I look terrible!" Heather was horrified.
"See what I mean? Now, what's troubling you?" Branson made the mirror disappear and settled down next to her on the sofa.
"Sirius has a girlfriend."
"I should hope so! When did you two get together?"
"Oh, not me, you silly man! Someone else; someone taller with long legs and silky black hair."
"Have you seen her?" Branson asked, intrigued by the description.
"No. That's just the sort he'd go for."
"Oh." The younger man sounded disappointed that such a girl didn't exist. "Then how can you be sure?"
"He's gone out for the evening twice since I arrived," Heather revealed desolately.
"And how do you know that he went out with the same woman both times?"
"That's not helping, Bran."
"How do you know that he went out with a woman at all? Doesn't he have any man friends?"
"Oh, I don't know. See? It's hopeless."
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself. There's nothing less attractive to a man than a woman who whinges."
"Branson! You are not making me feel any better! Why don't you just get back in that fireplace and go back to hell, where you belong?!"
"That's better! Now you've got a bit more colour in your cheeks."
Heather had to sit on her hands so that she wouldn't grab him by the neck. "What did you come here for, anyway?" she asked through gritted teeth.
"Oh, I was in the neighbourhood and I thought I'd pop in and see if you were still up for that date."
"I said I was, didn't I?"
"Well, in my experience, women always change their mind at least ten times before they settle on something," the Irishman reported jovially.
"Get out of here, Branson Leggett, before I scalp you!"
"That's the spirit!" Bran backed towards the fireplace and waved merrily. "See you on Thursday."
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Sirius padded back into the house long after the sun had set and, changing back into human form, made himself a hot drink to warm up his frozen limbs. He headed for the stairs and his bed but paused when he saw that the television was still on in the lounge. Tiptoeing in as quietly as he could, he searched for the remote control and froze.
Heather was lying on the sofa, fast asleep, her fingers still clasping the forgotten remote control. She looked so peaceful lying there, but the tear marks still on her face showed that she had cried herself to sleep. He didn't want to disturb her so he unplugged the television at the socket.
"Sirius?"
Spinning around, Sirius watched as Heather opened one bleary eye. "Ssshhh… Go back to sleep."
"What time is it?" Heather rubbed her hand over her face.
"Nearly two."
"Are you alright?"
"Yes. Go back to sleep," Sirius repeated, switching off the lights in the room and turning back to her in the darkness.
"Not yet."
"Hmm?"
"I want to speak to you about something… something important."
"Can't it wait until tomorrow?"
"No. It's just that Sirius… Sirius, I love…" Heather opened her eyes wide, suddenly realising that this wasn't a dream. Suddenly realising what she had been about to reveal.
"Yes? You love…" Sirius found himself oddly eager to hear what she had to say; could she love him? And what would he do if she did? 'That's the easy bit', a voice in his head told him, 'you love her back.' Sirius' face froze at the new thought. Could he and Heather…?
"I…" Heather tried to think of something to fill the silence. "I love… living here with you." She sighed in relief.
"Oh." Sirius' heart sank. "Ok, then." There was an uncomfortable pause. "I'm going to bed," he said, before turning around and heading upstairs, unnerved by his unexpected thoughts and feelings.
Heather followed slowly, knowing that she had probably scared him. The look of fear on his face when she had nearly revealed her feelings had said it all.
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Authors' Notes:
Hello!
Thank you all for reading and reviewing!
Special thanks to:
Hopeful Writer - :oD yeah, that'd be some party! I think aspiring is the right word. *shrugs*
Sam – Thanks for all the compliments! It's fantastic that you can relate to Heather (in truth, I've based her on an extreme version of me, bedhead and all!)
Drachenaugen, sapphireskies and Prankster Queen, who are also fantastic!
Merry Christmas!
Love,
(Martha and) Squirrel. xxx.