Apologies for the delay! I really didn't mean to take such a long break after the last admittedly cliffhangery chapter, but this chapter came at a very difficult time for me in that - it genuinely required way more editing than any of the others (everyone say thank u to beta junieyes, who went through this draft TWICE, if not thrice). On top of that, I was also in the submissions week in that I was trying, desperately, to write my MA dissertation.
Again, very sorry for the lag in publishing, but hopefully I'll be back to my previous update schedule - with minor hiccups, maybe.
I had a lot of fun with this chapter when I was writing it, particularly because I used some more old tropes with fresh new twists. I'll explain right at the end.
And, Guest Reviewer: We all hope Sirius won't be an idiot! But the omens are unfavourable, as they say. And thank you for appreciating the fanfic cliches! We respect our heritage :D
Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maude Montgomery
He hadn't moved from his bed – he tossed a rubber ball up and caught it, again and again. No one had really approached him since the party – in fact, people had given him a wide berth – including his reader. He hadn't finished the book she had given him, either. He didn't care to read it.
He was having a headache.
Not a very strong or painful one, just a very persistent one. Alongside the headache was the guilt – unceasing, coiling in his stomach like a snake, and pricking up every time he saw June. He didn't even know what he was supposed to do about it, so he snapped at everyone and anyone – Peter had squeaked when Sirius sounded him off for leaving his socks on the floor.
Without getting up, he looked outside the window. Everything felt confusing and irritating and painful. His heart had not stopped hurting for three days.
June had looked like she wanted to say something to him at breakfast, but he had steered clear of her. She had opened her mouth, and almost seemed ready to speak before she stopped herself. She might be wondering what he was doing, he thought bitterly, turning over in his bed and punching his pillow. He fell face first into the pillow and groaned into it loudly.
"Padfoot?"
It was James. Sirius looked up to find him blinking owlishly. Sirius turned away with a snarl.
"Look – what's the matter?" asked James. He sat down at the foot of the bed and laced his fingers, beginning in his straightforward manner: "What happened? You've bitten everyone's head off for a week straight and Remus is beginning to think you might be going through puberty or something."
Sirius gave a frustrated sigh, and got up from his bed. He paced the room, kicked Peter's shoes out of his way and turned to face James. "It's June."
"Williams?" asked James, nonplussed.
"The very same," he said, glaring.
"What did she do?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I… kissed her."
James didn't say anything for a second, so Sirius slowly lifted his hand to glance at him.
James' eyebrows were lost somewhere in his hairline. He blinked. "You kissed her."
"Yes."
"And?"
Sirius returned to his bed and fell back into it. He rubbed his face, groaning loudly in frustration. "I don't know. I don't know."
"What do you not know?" asked James.
"I – look – the thing is, it's not that I don't like her. I like her… too much. I've never liked a girl like this, mostly because I've hardly ever been friends with a girl before this. And she's a good friend! She's dependable, and she seems to understand instinctively how she ought to be during times of troubles – all of those good things."
"But?"
"I thought I liked this other person."
James frowned. "The book girl."
"I really liked her, James," said Sirius quietly, getting up again. "I know I was hiding it behind all these other things – saying it was her taste, it was other things. But I – I somehow understand her. I know her, through her writing and her thoughts and words – I kept falling for her, again and again. But the closer I got to June, the more I seemed to forget her – the more confused I got. I liked her enough to feel a thrill whenever she wrote to me, I analysed her words. I don't –"
"Take a breath, Black," said James without a trace of laughter.
Sirius did. "What – what do you think –"
"You should be honest. With both of them."
"This is really going to backfire."
"Very likely," said James. "Chances are you lose both. But you have to be honest."
Sirius sighed. "I really hate that you're right."
He probably should have asked for some pointers on how to go about it, he realised in retrospect.
It was night time when he came to her, fully expecting this to be the easier one of the conversations. June was curled up near the fireplace, and seemed to have buried herself in Mansfield Park again.
Four more days had passed with Sirius trying to get a hold of her – but this time around, she seemed to be avoiding him. Not overtly, but he hadn't found her anywhere at all for four days – she melted into the background and disappeared, and he was left thinking that he was sure he had spotted her during Transfiguration.
But if he was being honest – he hadn't really tried. Talking to James helped, but it hardly gave him the courage he needed to have this conversation. And he walked back on his decisions, too – what if James was wrong? What if instead of talking to the people involved, he just had them against him for all of time? Didn't it make more sense to decode what his heart was saying?
But after four days of hearing his heart say nothing that wasn't a flutter of dread, he gave up. He wasn't being able to make sense of what he wanted, what he needed, who he should speak to, or what he should do. He had never been much for romance – it was something to do when he had time off. He had only ever enjoyed dating Marlene, somewhat, and that was because she was more like him than any other girl he knew.
June was not Marlene. June was small, and shy, and sarcastic, and she blushed all the time. She always had her bangs in her eyes, and always looked like she was trying to disappear from this world entirely. She was funny but she didn't try, she made brownies when she was sad, she smiled and became conscious of it afterward. She sometimes tried to be brave, but she wasn't very certain she was good at it. She was his friend.
But she wasn't his reader either. His reader was thoughtful, she was sharp, analytical, and clever. She knew so much about writing, she had read practically every book on the planet, and she was cautious about how much she shared about herself. She was reserved, and he could read every moment that was written into the curves of her handwriting.
God, he sounded like a sap. And one of them was sitting in front of him, painfully unaware of his existence. He didn't do romance, or love, or Pride and Prejudice at all well – but the one thing he felt like he had a handle on was friendship. June was his friend. She deserved an explanation.
He wasn't someone who really thought about his words. It was a mistake – this was one time he should have really thought about it before going into the bullfight. He wrote a note to his reader and left the book where he always did. The day passed with him avoiding looking at her – ignoring the slightly tired expression on her face.
"June?" he asked tentatively.
She looked up. She wasn't smiling – her eyes looked strangely puffy. He swallowed.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi."
"What's up?"
"Can I sit?" he asked.
She nodded, but he noted the split second of hesitation. He nudged her legs to the side, and she immediately folded them under her. He sat down carefully.
"I'm… sorry," he said.
She waited. He balled his hands into fists and looked at the floor.
"I'm sorry I kissed you during the party last time," he said. "I'm very confused right now, in my head, and I really don't know what made me."
"'Made you'?" she asked.
He rubbed the back of his neck, oblivious. He was focussing on the fraying edge of a couch cushion, avoiding looking at her entirely. "I didn't mean to, really. I mean – I have the book reader, and I'm not saying she's perfect or anything, since I don't actually know her and I know you. Plus, she's been… distant for me, lately. I might have been lonely, I don't know –"
Her lips were a thin line. "'Lonely'?" she repeated.
"I don't know," continued Sirius, still oblivious. He wrung his hands for a second, nearly bruising one of them in the process. "I need to sort out my head. I'm sorry."
"That's alright," she said coldly.
Something about her tone was off. He looked up. "You seem angry."
"I wonder why," she snapped, shutting her book. "Have a good evening, Black."
And she was gone, leaving Sirius even more confused. He watched her sashay to the dormitory and cursed under his breath. "Women," he said, immediately regretting it. It felt uncharitable and wrong, especially since he had a bad feeling he had messed up this conversation in some way, shape or form.
Fantastically, it took a whole night for him to find out what was wrong. In a turn of events he had not been expecting, the book he had left on his table with the note he had written was gone – with no replacement. His heart sunk, but he felt confident that the reader was only contemplating what he had written in the note.
Lily filled him in. She found him at breakfast, when he sat down next to her not knowing that she was on the warpath. She began with no preamble, "What the fuck did you say to her, Sirius?"
"Good morning to you too, Evans," he said, still sleepy. It was bizarrely early, since James' Quidditch practice had been the one to wake him.
"Did you actually say you kissed her because you were lonely for someone else?" she demanded, her toast abandoned on the table and leaned forward, almost as if she was cornering him.
Sirius blinked. "I didn't – I didn't mean it that way – I mean – that's a deliberate misconstruction!"
"It doesn't seem like a misconstruction," said Lily severely. "She gave a word-for-word dictation of your conversation."
"Do girls just discuss everything?" he replied, defensive. "And remember everything?"
"Now is not the time for that sort of thing," said Lily, taking her arm away from the table, only to jab him on the shoulder with it. "Fix this!" she added, allowing her fork to clatter on her plate. With that, she flounced away, and Sirius was left to contemplate the general state of womankind.
With the directive of fixing this, Sirius went to find James to figure out just where he went wrong. Unfortunately, James, with new insight into women thanks to his budding friendship with Lily, actually elaborated very carefully what he had done wrong. But it wasn't the only thing he had gotten wrong that day. As it turned out, he really ought to have done a sensitivity read on the note he wrote for his reader.
When she had woken up the next morning, her only plan had been to avoid Sirius Black. She had no idea how to do it – but she knew one thing: if there was one thing she was good at, it was being invisible. She could slip by most people without anyone noticing. Once out of the common room, she dashed downstairs, near the kitchens, and waited for Sarah. Absolutely no one noticed June when she didn't want to be noticed. Even Sarah – yawning and coming out of the Hufflepuff common room, didn't pick up on the fact that June was sitting on the floor near her common room, reading.
June scrambled up. "Sarah!" she called.
"Oh – Williams!" started Sarah. "What are you doing down here?"
"I need – I need your help," it came out in a rush.
Sarah frowned. "What's up?"
"Look – Sirius – I'm-"
June took a breath.
"You're scaring me, June," said Sarah.
"He kissed me!" she burst out.
Sarah's eyes widened, and then narrowed. "Come here –" she said, dragging her to the kitchens.
June allowed herself to be guided. Sarah steered her into the kitchen, took a small table in the corner while the house elves swarmed them with food. She asked for a good breakfast, and two plates of pancakes with assorted toppings had already presented themselves.
"Start talking," said Sarah.
June took a deep, deep breath. "Last week. During the party."
"Oh, nice of you to tell me!" exclaimed Sarah.
"I'll apologise later," said June, frustrated. "I promise! I'll even take you out to get the new Mills and Boon next week or something. What do I do now?"
Sarah frowned. "Was he drunk?"
"Drunk enough to be questionable. Not drunk enough to be out of his mind."
"Fuck, that's a mixed signal."
"I know."
"So, how was it?"
Sarah was smiling. June wanted the earth to open up again, something that she had given up wishing on. She pushed her pancakes away and buried her head in her arms. "Wonderful!" she said in a muffled voice.
"Was he really good?"
She nodded into her arms.
"I always figured boys were not as good at kissing," mused Sarah. "But then I've only ever kissed girls. Dawn wasn't very good at it either."
June lifted her head up from her arms. "Practice makes perfect?"
Sarah laughed, and laughed, and laughed. "Up, Williams. Tell me everything!"
June got up. "Well – right after he kissed me, he apologised."
Sarah blinked. "For what?"
"Christ, who knows?" said June, knowing very well that she was using the Lord's name in vain. The moment deserved it.
"Oh, Merlin."
"I know."
"Maybe he meant it in a good way…" Sarah said helpfully.
"Yes, it's always a good sign when a boy kisses you and says he's sorry," responded June, her voice flat.
Sarah grinned.
"Well – then what? What did you say to him?"
"I didn't say anything," said June. "He said everything that had to be said."
June told her of everything that had been said last night – of her anger, of her inability to look him in the eye, of her anger, and how she'd cried a few times. Sarah's grin dropped and her face looked grimmer and grimmer as she continued. "Black," she murmured under her breath – and it wasn't in praise of anything. June continued her story by telling Sarah of how she had escaped from the Gryffindor common room, and arrived here. Finally, she finished it off with showing her the note she had received shortly after the conversation between herself and Sirius:
Dear Reader,
I'm sorry I am returning this book to you without reading it, but I would like to know – to know if you would like to meet me. I have… liked you, for a while now. I don't know if you feel the same way, which is why I think it would be good if we met. I'm a little confused at the moment, and I would really like to meet you.
- S
"What do you need?" asked Sarah, her face a mask of emotions. "Should I truss him up like a chicken?"
"No!" exclaimed June.
"So – what are you going to do when you talk to him?"
"I'm not talking to him," said June firmly. "I am not meeting this demanding man who is willingly confessing to having kissed me because he was lonely. I have made the executive decision to avoid this problem by not dealing with it. I am taking off. Perhaps Hagrid will let me be his assistant. I can be a groundskeeper."
"June, you hate a change in the weather, let alone taking care of the grounds," said Sarah. "Don't be a coward. Come on, you have it in you."
"No, no I do not!" said June, standing up in an expression of her indignation. "I am a coward, I do not have an ounce of courage in me, I was misplaced in Gryffindor, and you can't make me face my problems. I'm taking off to the highlands."
"We're already in Scotland," Sarah pointed out.
"Higher lands."
"June, come –"
"No!" said June. "You cannot make me talk to him. Either you assist me in running away from my life, help me change my name, and disappear into the mountains, or you are no longer my friend."
Sarah cursed under her breath. "Finish your breakfast," she said. "Then we have to figure out a way to get you out of your classes. You'd better pack food, Black will be looking to see me deliver you a meal."
"Thank you," said June with some shreds of dignity.
She scarfed down her food, even as she calculated in her head how long she could avoid him. It was Thursday, so if she could avoid two days of classes, she would make it to the weekend. After that, she'd decide whether or not she was running for the hills or staying in and using the passage of time to have this incident entirely forgotten.
She had had the good sense to take some of her favourite books in her bag. When she and Sarah finished breakfast, they ransacked the kitchen to pack a variety of foods. June took chicken sandwiches, a slab of cake, some crisps, a large bowl of chips, and a bundle of fried chicken drumsticks. Once done, they went upstairs to think of a way to avoid Sirius Black ("maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing and fake an illness." "Madame Roberts will see through that without thinking twice."). Unfortunately, while they were near the Transfiguration classrooms - June spotted him. They were nowhere near the Great Hall – but the boy seemed to be stalking the corridors, seeking her out – a bit like a hunting dog. It was lucky it was so crowded.
Sarah gripped her elbow hard. He was in the corner of the corridor, far away from them, a crowd of students in between.
Sarah dragged her and June scarpered behind.
They shot down the corridor, hopping between people ("excuse me – pardon, sorry – oh fuck off Bobby Jones!"). Sirius seemed to have noticed something, because he advanced towards them – hidden though they were by many students.
Sarah held her by the elbow again, and shoved her into a classroom somewhere. "I'll head him off," she hissed. "You go in." She took off, slamming the door behind her.
June panted against the frame.
"Miss Williams?"
Fuck.
"Professor McGonagall," said June, patting down her hair in a desperate attempt to look less like she was escaping to higher lands. "I'm – you – they – I mean –"
"Conduct yourself with some alacrity, Williams," she said severely. "And it isn't Transfiguration yet. Please leave so that I can prepare for my next class." She lifted her wand arm – presumably to open the door -
"No!" shouted June.
"I'm sorry?" said Professor McGonagall, indignant. "Miss Will –"
"Professor McGonagall, you don't understand!" June exploded. The words were spilling out of her before she could control them, and they seemed to have no regard for how rattled she already was. "There is a boy! Who is determined, and is closing in on me even as we speak. If I can't avoid him during class today, I'll be doomed to spend the rest of my life sorting out his issues – and do you know how many issues he has? He ran away from home – no boy who ran away from home is exactly correct in their head, as I'm sure you know. Is that what you want from me? To deal with the fact that he kissed me, and he seemed convinced he wanted nothing to do with me – and now he suddenly wants to have a conversation – what's a girl supposed to think, Professor McGonagall? Apparently, he already said what he had to say – so why is he bothering me now?"
June took a deep breath, her cheeks flushed red. Had she been warned that she was going to have a meltdown, she might have timed it better so that it wasn't Professor McGonagall facing it – because she was looking increasingly like she might put June in detention for the rest of the year.
McGonagall's lips were a thin line. "Go to my office," she said without preamble.
"Um," said June. "Okay. Okay." She meekly went to her office, unhappy and sure that she was going to get detention. She had never really been to McGonagall's office with the promise of punishment. June sat down on a chair, and waited for God to deliver her.
"No, Black, she's not here."
Professor McGonagall's voice carried. Instantly, June jumped out of her chair and hurried to the door. She pressed her ear to the keyhole.
"But Professor –"
"She isn't here," repeated Professor McGonagall. "It isn't time for Transfiguration, so I fail to see why she would be."
"Oh – alright –"
June let out a soft whoop of celebration. She virtuously sat back in her chair, waiting for Professor McGonagall to come back. The door opened, and in a voice that conveyed as much irritability as possible, Professor McGonagall said, "That is the last time this happens, Williams."
June nodded so fast, she felt like her skull might pop off her spine.
"Here," added McGonagall, handing her a note. "Give it to your friend and stay out of classes. I don't want to see you, or hear from you. Or Black, for that matter."
June stared at the note. It gave her permission for the day off, as she was put in an all-day detention, helping Professor McGonagall organise her files.
"Oh, Professor –"
"Just be quiet, Miss Williams. This is only for today. I expect you to have sorted out your love life by tomorrow, and be in class. Now get out of my sight."
June took her advice, scuttling out of the room.
Sarah was waiting at one of the desks. "You were in her office?" she demanded, jumping out of her chair.
June handed Sarah the note. "Professor McGonagall is the only real ally," she said.
Sarah blinked when she read the note. Shock was written plainly on her face. "Oh, fuck, this makes it easy. I'll manage telling the profs you're gone – where will you hide?"
"The dormitory is out of the question," said June. "Unlike Professor McGonagall, all of those sneaks will out me in a second."
"Astronomy tower?"
"Owlery?"
"Hagrid's."
"The forest."
"I need somewhere comfortable," said June. "All of these places don't have – I don't know, a bed, or whatever."
"You can't have everything, June," said Sarah. "You're on the run, remember?"
"Oh – I know," said June. "You know that large unused classroom in the North Tower is? You have to pass by Sir Cadogan's portrait to get there."
"Oh, yes!" said Sarah. "It's really high up, and nobody ever thinks of it. I've never thought of it."
"Exactly!"
"God knows what that classroom is going to be used for."
"Not the problem right now, Sarah."
"Love has made you bitchy," sniffed Sarah.
June blanched. "I'm not in love!"
"You're right," said Sarah. "Going on the run by hiding in an abandoned classroom in the North Tower – braving the mad Sir Cadogan in the process – is behaviour that sane people, not in love, undertake."
"You've never been sane a day in your life," muttered June. "One last thing! I need you to leave this on his bedside table."
Sarah stared at the thing June had given her. "You're sure about this?" she asked.
"Positive," said June. "The password for the Gryffindor common room is Applefresh. No one should be in the sixth year boy's dormitory during the fifth period. I checked."
"How did you –"
"I'm observant, remember?"
"Remind me never to cross you."
June flashed a toothy grin. "Here's a map," she added. She explained the instructions to Sarah. "You can do this?"
"I've actually… been to your common room," said Sarah. "Never seen your boys' dormitory though, but I can find it. Won't be a problem."
"Why have you –"
"Bye!" waved Sarah.
June huffed, but Sarah had disappeared. The corridor outside was not empty. She had to be careful – she blended well, but she needed something to blend into. She dashed off the corridor, and headed northwards. She took a few bad turns into passages that were almost certainly south (she could spot a bit of the lake from the windows), turned firmly in the opposite direction and headed onwards. Once she found Sir Cadogan, she knew she was on the right track – and kept climbing her way forward. It was a very unused tower – littered with the memories of ghosts. She had only ever come here once when she was exploring.
She clambered on and on until she reached the classroom she had been thinking off. She waved her wand, and the trapdoor opened, with a rope ladder extending downwards. She crawled upstairs – it was so, so high up.
The classroom smelled musty and dirty. There were a large number of chintz armchairs and round tables dragged somewhere in the corner of the room. The first thing she did was open the curtains, allowing a lot of fresh light to enter the room. Dust wafted into the thin beams of light and disappeared again as it settled.
She dragged out one of the chairs, one of the tables, and siphoned them off of the grease and stains. Then she folded up her legs and curled into the arm chair, and pulled out her copy of Anne of Green Gables. All she needed was comfort reading right now.
"You were right," she said to Anne. "You were right about Gilbert Blythe, Anne. He's driving me spare."
The consequences of Sirius' actions fully hit him when he arrived at his dormitory in the evening: his copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration was lying on his bedside table, as if it had never left him.
It's going to be a wild ride from this point forward. And of course, honourable mentions to fanfic cliches I used:
The authority figure helping the OC get away from the love interest is a less utilised trope, but I love it wholeheartedly. I think I saw it being used in a very similar way in Commentarius by BC Daily.
And of course, we love a misunderstanding! That's key. We love to see it!
Do review everyone 3
