Much love to Dave and his awesome skills. Were it not for him, this whole process wouldn't be half as fun.
Silver
Acceptance
'I love this song! It just - I don't know, it just speaks to me, you know? Like yes, our society's uniformity has been ingrained into us and we, as the middle class, have accepted it with little to no protest! It completely speaks of a populace that no longer places importance on individuality and a sense of self but rather romanticises Big Brother! It's like 'Oh, you want to be an artist? Alright. That's nice. Now go get an office job or better yet! Become a drone for the gover-'
Bra burning bitch, thought Sirius with a sip of his whiskey. Don't get him wrong, he was all for freely hanging tits but the talking.
Fucking hell, The Talking.
He just wanted to shag the tits. Not talk to them. Was that too much to ask for?
Hippie Bitch.
'Damn educated females,' he grumbled to himself.
Women never should've been allowed to read, then feminism wouldn't have been a thing. Fucking equality shit meant he had to sit and listen to the tits bitch. He didn't know where she got off complaining about men being sexist pigs as she wasn't pleasant herself. Really, all her talking was unattractive.
She was lucky he wanted to shag her otherwise he wouldn't have given her the time of day. He was quickly rethinking the day's game plan.
He should have just gone to London.
But no, he'd just had to go for a fucking local rather than a tourist. He'd wanted a challenge. Not easy prey like tourists. They wanted to go for the whole British experience after all.
To top off his magnificent plan, his dumb arse had to visit a university town. Fucking brilliant move that was.
'...minisce about the days of ol-' sang Hippie Bitch, bobbing her head along to the tune.
Oh Merlin she needed to shut the fuck up.
It was just a bloody song, nothing more and no you stupid bitch it most certainly was not about you. It wasn't even a good song. Bloody passable at best.
Sirius took another sip, grey eyes staring at the still talking bird. Her hands waving around as she continued to explain how this song expressed the world's misogynistic views. Yet, this song was about her.
And what the fuck did misogynistic mean?
He reached for a fag as Hippie Bitch continued her opinionated speech about the aristocracy and the Muggle ministry and something about how her knickers were bunched up her arse he was sure. Stupid bird needed to have them swiftly removed. He'd gladly offer her his services if she promised to shut her gob for the rest of the bloody night.
He inhaled as his eyes scanned the Muggle pub, staring at all the other lovely choices surrounding him. A few of said lovely choices smiled right back.
Why was he still chatting up Hippie Bitch?
Sirius swept his fringe back as stormy eyes returned to the bird. His eyes automatically fell on her soft and full lips. He blinked and returned his focus to her dull, brown eyes. He found her smiling at him expectantly.
'Ha!' He said with a nod of his head and a forced smile. 'Yeah. Too right!'
Hippie Bitch's smile grew and she continued to attack him with her long winded and pointless opinions.
With a deep breath, Sirius eyed the clock above the bar.
'Fuck,' he swore under his breath, drinking the rest of his whiskey in one go.
It was gone five and there was an Order meeting in an hour. Which meant that he'd spent three hours with the Hippie Bitch.
Three hours and she still had her clothes on.
He was slipping.
The pretty blonde stopped mid word. '-Pardon?'
Sirius stared at the gorgeous blonde with big tits, and black rimmed glasses. Her beautifully plump lips parted. He really did want to see how soft they were.
He was keenly aware of the time though.
Sirius cleared his throat, knowing damn well that these past three hours of hard work were about to go to hell. 'I asked if you'd care to shag?'
The blonde's mouth fell open as her eyes grew wide. 'What?'
'I have work in an hour,' he said with a shrug. 'You're here. I'm here. Figured what better way than to... exclaim our freedom and... express our... individuality than with a quick shag in the loo?'
The Hippie Bitch's cheeks flushed red as her glare began to form. Her hands closed tightly around her still full pint.
'How fucking DARE you?!' she asked unnecessarily loudly.
Good thing the music stopped just then. Who knows if he'd have been able to hear her otherwise? It also helped that half the pub went quiet. He looked around with a tight smile. Several university students stared back.
Smile frozen in place he tried to soothe her as best he could. 'Alright, calm down. Don't make a scene. People are beginning to stare and your nose is shiny. You don't want to be seen unless you look your best do you?'
Hippie Bitch growled, actually fucking growled.
He couldn't help it. He laughed.
'No need for that love. Gimme a few and I'll turn that growl into a purr,' he said with a wink and a smirk.
'Who the hell do you think you are?!'
'The aristocracy.'
Technically, he wasn't lying.
The angry tirade that followed quickly became background noise. Her hands once again waving about.
Sirius reached for Hippie Bitch's pint as her shrill voice got louder and angrier. He began drinking it as more people began to stare.
A dark shadow fell over him. Hippie Bitch stopped talking. Her eyes wide as her mouth fell open. An odd look fell over her face.
The back of his neck prickled. His heart beat faster. His shoulders stiffened. His hand itched and he wanted nothing more than to flick his wrist and have his wand fall into his palm.
He lowered the pint and turned to the figure standing to his left.
He raised his eyebrows as the side of his mouth began to curve upwards. He hadn't seen her in here before and he was damn sure he would've spotted her right away. The new bird must've been sat behind him.
Pale, creamy skin and shoulder length black hair. Petite, tits big enough to be a proper handful. Pentagrams dangled from her neck alongside a spiked collar. A pierced eyebrow, nose and lower lip. Black lipstick hid thin lips. Black eye shadow circled her eyes. Her left arm was heavily tattooed. The idea of getting his own sparked in his mind again.
The new bird stared back. Grey eyes, darker than his own, ran the length of him. Over his hair, down his face, to his Sex Pistols band shirt and scuffed boots.
'I'm Domina,' she said, completely ignoring Hippie Bitch.
He smiled wider when the blonde opposite him gave an indignant gasp.
'Dave.'
Hippie Bitch slammed her fist into the table. He could feel her glare burning through him.
'You told me your name was James!'
Sirius didn't take his eyes off the other bird as he stood. 'I lied.'
Painted black lips smirked and pale eyes sparkled. 'Are you lying to me too?'
Sirius stared down at her. She just managed to fit under his chin. Grey eyes focused on her small and tight black shirt. He thought he saw the tell-tale sign of a nipple piercing.
'Does it matter?' he asked taking a step towards her.
'Not really,' she murmured, stepping closer as well. 'How about that shag then? Do I get the same offer?'
Soft, perky breasts pressed against his chest. There was a piercing. He felt himself begin to harden.
He reached for her hand and without a word led her to the back of the crowded pub. Behind them, the blonde cursed and swore at them. Her high-pitched bitching drowned out by another song and the chatter around them.
He cut to the front of the queue, ignoring the people waiting to use the one toilet. Their protests and heckling of no concern to him.
A posh bloke tried to block him, no doubt to show off for the posh bitch behind him that he'd attempted to chat up, but a glare quickly silenced him.
No one stopped them from entering the loo, no one so much as tried.
No sooner did he shut the door behind him, was Domina on him.
She slammed into him. Her lips on his. Warm hands reached into his jeans and began palming his hardened length.
They clawed at each other, each battling for dominance. In the end, he gave in.
The petite girl grabbed him by his jacket and pushed him onto the toilet. Clothing was pushed aside and lifted as buttons became undone.
'On the pill,' Domina muttered, seconds before she lowered herself onto him.
His eyes slammed shut as her wet heat cradled and moved against him.
It wasn't gentle or caring. It was all lust and need. Primal and urgent. Fast and hard.
He sucked on a hardened nipple, flicking his tongue against the warm studs.
She moaned loudly, he sucked harder and she moved faster.
His need for release grew as she began fluttering around him. She rolled her hips and all sensations intensified, becoming too much.
A grunt and a breathy moan escaped them as she lifted herself off of him. Her nipple at eye level, he noticed a small bruise was beginning to form around the darkened flesh.
Breathing heavily, Sirius reluctantly stood and lazily worked on his zip and belt. He made his way to the sink intent on splashing some cool water onto his heated face, only to find it smudged with black lipstick.
Through the mirror, he saw Domina sort herself out as she sat on the toilet, completely uncaring of the fact that he was watching. He laughed. She was alright.
As she pissed, the tiny bird pulled out a joint from within her studded boot.
'What's your real name?' she asked, lighting it up.
Sirius finished wiping off the black lipstick and sweeping his hair away from his face, the Marauder turned to face the sitting girl.
'What's yours?'
Domina shook her head laughing. 'I asked you first.'
'And I asked second.'
Smiling, Sirius reached for the joint. 'What's it short for?'
She shook her head, a secretive smile directed at him.
As he smoked, Domina finished cleaning herself and walked towards him. He passed her joint back.
'Sorry about your neck,' she said around her held breath.
He laughed. Not because it was funny but because he felt damn good.
'Sorry about your nipple.'
Domina exhaled as she gave him a wicked little smile. 'Don't be.'
She handed him the joint and he inhaled. After handing it back, he reached for his fags. Like a gentleman he offered her one first. The greedy bitch took four.
Sirius nodded at her hands as he reached for his lighter.
'Don't forget to wash your hands,' he mumbled around his cigarette.
A cloud of smoke and a laugh followed him out the loo, a small smile pulling at his lips. It stayed with him as he made his way out and as he mounted Roxanne. It fell away the moment his cabin came into view.
He lingered beside Roxanne's shed, staring at the fish inside his large pond, trying to prolong his entrance and avoid the inevitable meeting that wouldn't do a bloody thing to change a damn thing.
He was beginning to doubt anything could.
Since that night two weeks ago, Voldemort had lain low and stayed quiet. Or as quiet as a piece of shit psychopath could be.
Only a handful of Death Eater murders had occurred since that day. Suspected Death Eater attacks anyway. The Ministry couldn't be sure as to confirm and label them the work of Voldemort's followers as no Dark Mark had appeared above them. Questionable doubt aside, Dumbledore insisted they'd been the work of Voldemort.
The silence had everyone's teeth on edge and people's nerves were shot to hell.
He was starting to get a bit worried himself, he hated to admit.
His worry didn't lessen any at the fact that the arsehole had his sights set on his best mate. After all, it was a well-known fact that having Voldemort know you by name wasn't exactly a good thing.
Around him, the woods slowly came alive as cracks rang out and scampering creatures either ran from or investigated the unfamiliar sounds. He knew what had caused the sounds, but his heart still beat a little bit faster.
Faint and familiar voices called out greetings. Their distant calls surrounded him but with no real point of origin. They drifted over him and his heart rate slowed.
Reluctantly, he made his way inside.
With the exception of a few missing Order members, his cabin was full. Small talk was made by a few, serious topics were discussed by most as they waited for Dumbledore to arrive.
When he did, the following meeting was no different than the previous one. Or the one before that.
No progress was made and the only thing that changed were the missions.
As pairs marched into Moody's study like good little soldiers, the remaining Order members sat in wait. Throughout the waiting period he'd been talking to Wormtail, until the shorter wizard had been called in, alone.
The moment Pete walked out, he and Remus were called in.
'Scouting mission,' said Moody as he dropped a slip of parchment before them. 'Suspected Death Eater activity. Observe and watch. Standard protocols. Twelve hours, beginning at eight tonight.'
Remus quickly agreed. He simply nodded, not really bothered either way.
A mission was a mission and it was something to do. A vital part of war in its own simple way really. Besides, since Voldemort had decided to play Hide-and-Seek, the only thing the Order had been able to do was watch Death Eater's homes, while keeping an ear to the ground.
It was frustrating and it wasn't much of anything... but it was something.
He glared at the candle flames.
Somewhere, Voldemort was taking steps to guarantee that his grandiose illusions became a reality. All the while, the world sat in wait.
He turned back to Moody who was currently giving his usual speech about privacy and protocols and expectations. He pretended to listen but really he just sat and waited, because that's what war was.
It was waiting for an unknown outcome and hoping to win.
It was old men talking and young men dying.
It was utter bollocks.
To his right, Remus stood. He followed his lead and together they left, Mad-Eye's last orders ringing in his ears as the study door shut behind him.
'Keep quiet and don't talk about your mission.'
He and Remus parted ways soon after. Dorcas had just arrived and like a werewolf in heat, Remus had made his way towards her. Sirius had walked past the shorter witch, intent on a smoke. Outside, stood by the pond, he found Wormtail.
'Hey Pete.'
The blond wizard didn't reply. Twice more he called out to him and nothing. Stood next to him as he was, Wormtail may as well have been an ocean away. Sirius bumped Peter's shoulder with his own and the younger bloke jumped.
'Hey,' he said soothingly, the smile falling off his face. 'It's just me. It's alright mate.'
Wormtail turned wild eyes on him, looking right through him. 'Pete?'
The blond blinked and after a second released a shaky laugh.
'Hey Padfoot,' he mumbled, staring at the murky waters.
The question Are you alright? was on the tip of his tongue, but this was Pete and he wasn't going to insult his friend with stupid questions.
He brushed his fringe back, looking at the darkened woods around them, struggling with what to say. Beside him, Pete cleared his throat.
'Right. That's it then. I've got to go and meet the Prewetts in forty minutes. Something about a bird in protective custody.'
Wide, terrified eyes turned to him.
Keep quiet and don't talk about your mission.
The corner of his mouth lifted. 'I'm to watch a suspected Death Eater hideout with Moony.'
'Oh.'
Sirius nodded at the shorter wizard. 'Yeah... I'll see you when you get back, alright? We'll go for a pint or something.'
Wormtail nodded. His mop of hair barely covered his downcast eyes, but not his quivering lower lip.
It was no secret that Peter was afraid.
Seen as a weak member, he was rarely given dangerous missions. Rather, his skill lay in information gathering. The whole of the Order revelled at his uncanny ability to gather key information. No one, with the exception of the Marauders, Lily and Caradoc knew the secret of his success.
No, Peter was not valued as a member but he knew that would change.
Pete had a good heart. He was a great best mate and Sirius knew the younger wizard would one day surprise them all. He was tougher than he looked.
Had it not been for Remus' insistence that he and James be friends with their other dorm mate, he would have never known himself.
Now, he couldn't imagine a life without the rat Animagus. He completed his motley crew of friends. He wasn't powerful or skilled, but he was brave. Any bloke who faced his fear on a daily basis was. People only saw him crying and whimpering, but no one mentioned his constant presence in the frontlines or his uncanny ability to remain unseen.
Peter had his own skills. He was an important member in this war and no one knew it. Sirius suspected the younger wizard didn't realise it himself.
With a wave and mumbled goodbye, Pete reached into his pocket and pulled out a red feather. In a flash, the bloke was gone and Sirius was left with his thoughts feeling useless. It didn't last long. Within a minute, the sound of laughter reached him.
The smell of roses engulfed him and a kiss was placed on his stubbly cheek, a warm hand encircled his. Beside her, a smiling Lily appeared. Her hand holding on to James'. Green, twinkling eyes settled on them as Marley rested her head on him.
James gave him a look. 'Alright?'
He opened his mouth. Fully intent on telling him about Pete. The bloke clearly needed help. The last thing he wanted was for Pete to turn into Benjy, or worse.
'Mate ... I was just talk-,'
'What's that on your neck?' interrupted Marlene.
Annoyance flashed through him. 'That,' he said pulling his hand away, 'is none of your business.'
'You're still...? Even after-,'
He laughed at her disbelieving tone, but there was no humour in it. Shaking his head, reaching for his pack and lighter, 'You just spent the night love. Stop acting like I proposed.'
The group had gone quiet.
He could feel her stare on him. Pleading for something that he refused to give. Perhaps an admission that her feelings were finally being returned. Or maybe a confirmation that this, whatever it was that they had, had reached a new level of intimacy.
Unfortunately for her, she wasn't going to get it.
He didn't feel what she felt. And no amount of pushing was going to change that.
He could still feel her eyes on him and it was starting to piss him off.
He turned to her, glaring right back. 'What?!'
'Sirius!' hissed Evans, as James warned, 'Pads.'
Marley's beautiful, blue eyes flashed. Her mouth grew thin, and she grew rigid as her right hand twitched. But Sirius wasn't bothered. Marley had never been one to make a scene, she'd say or do fuck all. Like always.
Her mouth opened and closed a few times. Whatever she'd wanted to say remained unsaid as the blonde turned and walked into the woods. The crack of Apparation ringing soon after.
A stab of guilt hit him, which he quickly ignored.
She'd get over it.
Since that night she slept over, Marley had become insufferable. Constantly calling on him. Always trying to be around. Doing every possible thing to get him to see how good they were together... she'd quickly gotten on his nerves.
He'd had regrets over his decision to have her stay the very next morning. Now, he was really beginning to rethink their whole arrangement.
He'd been a prick to her since. Sirius knew it was unfair but because of Marley's constant pushing, he couldn't be arsed being nice about it anymore.
That still didn't warrant the slap Evans gave him.
His face reared back and white spots erupted before his eyes.
'What the hell is your problem?' spat the petite red head, green eyes blazing. 'Who the hell do you think you are to treat her that way?!'
He didn't reply. Just glared right back. Defiant and stubborn to the last, he would never admit that the slap was relatively justified.
'Lily!'
'And you!' hissed the witch, turning to his messy haired best mate. 'Why can't you try and control him?!'
'Because it's not his fucking place and he knows it, why don't you try and learn yours?'
Evans wand tip flared. 'She's my friend!'
'It's my business!'
She didn't reply. Just stared him down. Then she nodded.
The witch shook her head laughing. 'One of three things happen to arseholes like you Sirius. They either lose the one good thing they had and don't realise it until it's too late or they grow old and pathetic. Drunk half the time, a shut in loser that can only talk about the good old days! Or they meet a girl who they don't deserve. Mark my words Sirius!'
Sirius glared at the retreating red head's back. 'Stupid bitch.'
A blow struck him in the corner of his mouth. The world spun, his knees buckled and he fell.
He glared up at James who stared down at him. Sirius wiped at the corner of his lip, tasting blood.
'Fucking prick,' he muttered, spitting out blood as he stood.
James, completely unrepentant flicked his fingers and Sirius' pack of fags flew into his waiting hand.
'Shut the fuck up,' he said, 'You deserved it. And not cos of Lily.'
'Still,' grumbled Sirius, accepting the kind offer of one of his cigarettes. 'Didn't you quit?'
'Yes.'
'I'll tell,' he threatened.
James shrugged. 'Go ahead. I don't give a damn if Lily gets pissed off. I've more pressing matters to deal with.'
They continued to smoke, side by side, occasionally saying a few words to departing Order members. Neither spoke until the Headmaster himself bade them goodnight, the echoing crack of Apparation successfully breaking their amicable silence.
James handed him another smoke, taking a new one himself.
'What do you think he wants with Lily?' asked James as he lit his fag. 'She's Muggleborn. Not a single drop of magical blood in her family before her and yet... he offered her a position of high rank.'
Sirius pocketed his lighter as he spoke. 'It's Voldemort mate. Nothing he does makes sense.'
'It's the third time he's asked Sirius.'
He took a drag to prolong his answer. He didn't know what to say. Nothing he said would help.
'So what?' he finally said. 'It's the third for you, the second time for Alice and Frank. The twelfth time for Dorcas, probably. The eighth for Remus. Some of us only had the privilege once.'
'Only reason he asked you once is because he got your brother soon after.'
He didn't say anything at that. It was true. Voldemort already had a Black on his ranks. It appeared that the prick didn't feel inclined to gain another.
Why he'd only been offered a position once still bothered him though, but he'd never put his fears and suspicions into words.
The breeze shifted and the combined smells of blood, dirt and wild beast hit him. A sense of familiarity and loyalty tightened his chest. The once welcomed pull of pack, brought on by the approaching full moon, no longer as inviting. Now it just hurt.
He absentmindedly rubbed at the hollow ache in his chest. From the corner of his eye, he saw James do the same. Both black-haired Marauders turned to face the approaching werewolf.
'Him and Bellatrix must've told them you're too headstrong mate, that's all,' said Remus looking at him. Luminous, amber eyes turned to James, 'Your bloodline is old and you're a powerful lot. Not to mention your skill in battle. Reckon he just wants you mate. By offering Lily a position he must think you'll fall in line to protect her, the stupid arse. Either way, there's no point in worrying about it. You won't get any answers. You shan't change a thing and you sure as hell can't ask can you?'
James ran his hand through his hair causing it to stand on end, his jaw clenched.
'Wha-,' he shook his head frowning, staring hard at the moss covered ground. 'What if it's something to do with Sna-,'
'-With Snivellus?!' interrupted Sirius through choking laughter.
Beside him, Remus shook his head. 'Prongs.'
James looked up, his expression defiant.
'What?' he snapped.
'You're being a paranoid twat and a fucking idiot.'
Sirius nodded. 'No more than usual though.'
The pair ignored him.
'I've told you what I saw!' he said in a harsh whisper. Hazel eyes running over the shadowed trees and surrounding woods.
Sirius bit his lip, casually studying the grounds behind them. Listening very carefully for any signs of shallow breaths or light footsteps as Remus spoke.
'We know,' Moony said quietly. 'Which, if you think about it, should mean that rather than worried, you should be grateful.'
Sirius' eyebrows shot upwards. Lips parted as he stared at the lanky werewolf. 'Grateful?!'
The long-haired Marauder shook his head. It was no secret that he hated Snivellus. He didn't trust him. As far as he was concerned, the twat was a worthless piece of shit and wasn't to be trusted.
But even he knew that when it came to Evans, that Snape wouldn't ever hurt her. Much less have her, a well-known Muggleborn, be within arm's reach of Voldemort. The redhead and greasy tosser had been best mates once upon a time. He doubted the bastard would want her killed, especially if the prick had injured another Death Eater for her.
No, Snivellus had nothing to do with Voldemort's obsession with Evans. He'd go as far as to say that she was safe with the idiot. He'd never admit it out loud though.
Still... to say James should be grateful...
'Grateful is too strong a word mate,' he said to the taller wizard.
'He saved her life.'
'We don't know that,' Sirius reasoned, shaking his head. 'For all we know, it could have as easily been a misfire.'
'I suppose. Anything's possible...' Remus conceded to the point, nodding. 'Yeah alright. I just... couldn't think of a better word. He should still be grateful though.'
I guess. 'Fair enough.'
'My point is... if you saw Snape attacking another Death Eater, whose wand was aimed at Lily's back - then it can't be because of Snape.'
'Yeah Prongs,' he agreed. 'Even I think your theory's mad. Moony's probably right. You're both powerful and he wants that power for his own. That's all.' He took a drag of his fag and as an afterthought, 'Fuck Snivellus.'
James didn't reply, just kept quiet as he smoked. The rustling of leaves and the sounds of the forest, both soothing and comforting, broke the silence that would have otherwise been present. He'd finished his fag and had been midway through another when his best mate finally spoke.
'Lily's right you know?' James said quietly. 'One day Remus, you're gonna find a girl who won't take your shit or let you chase her away... and you'll fall for a girl you don't deserve Padfoot and she won't look at you twice... Maybe then you'll both fucking understand.'
The stag Animagus walked away then. Heading towards the cabin with steady and measured steps, a trail of smoke following in his wake.
Sirius blinked. 'Arsehole took my fags.'
Remus chuckled around a cloud of exhaled smoke, still eyeing their messy haired friend. 'Whatever you do mate, don't ruin his dramatic exit.'
'Nah. Fuck that.'
He opened his mouth to call out but Remus stopped him.
'Pads.'
Shutting his mouth, he glared at James' back. Flipping him off, 'Dickhead.'
He and Remus continued to watch the cabin, long after James had gone inside. The pair sharing a fag between them.
Remus nodded at the cabin. 'He's starting to act a bit like Benjy.'
He took a drag. 'He's just scared and looking for an outlet to place blame. He'll be alright.'
'We're all scared,' Remus said. 'Even you. You're just too much of a coward to admit it.'
'Lies,' he hissed.
'Truth.'
Sirius sneered up at him. 'Slanderous beast.'
'No more than you,' he fired back.
Sirius dropped the fag, quickly vanishing it.
'He's terrified of losing Lily is all.' He raised his voice an octave. 'One day when you find your girl, you'll understand.'
'Yeah,' said Remus laughing, looking at his wristwatch. 'We'll see. We've another hour before the mission.'
Sirius nodded. 'Meet you back here in forty?'
'Alright,' answered the taller Marauder, 'I'm going to kip for a bit. Wake me up when you get back?'
'Yeah. Alright.'
'Cheers mate,' Remus said. The young werewolf turned to him, 'What are you going to do?'
Sirius smirked at that.
Moony shook his head, 'On the pull.'
His smile grew wider.
'Here,' Remus said taking off his watch and handing it to him. 'Keep an eye on it.'
'Will do.'
Sirius pocketed the watch as he made his way to the Apparation point. Seconds later, he found himself beside an overflowing bin.
He didn't stop to see if he'd been spotted. Didn't really care if he had. The possibility that he wasn't alone at the moment was very likely, he'd just Apparated into an alley behind a pub, on a Saturday night. People liked to shag and piss back here. He'd once had the unfortunate luck of having seen both happening at the same time.
Either way, Sirius didn't care if he'd been seen. Besides, they'd see much more soon enough.
He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a spiked collar. The tag hanging from it, the shape of a bone, read Snuffles. He didn't hesitate putting it around his neck.
Putting Remus' watch on the pavement and focused his magic inward.
A tingling, glowing warmth grew from his centre and spread outwards. His skin crawled. His bones shifted. His senses heightened. Smells intensified. Sounds became sharper. The darkened alley shifted to grey tones. The pavement, cold beneath his padded feet.
Gasps and a small scream rang behind him as he gently picked up the watch with his mouth. Without a backwards glance, he left the alley and shocked Muggles behind. Sirius trotted through the familiar streets, hyper aware of his surroundings. Less than five minutes later, he arrived at his destination.
Padfoot dropped the watch before him, facing upwards. The clock face clear to see. With the watch perfectly positioned, he once again settled in as he sat behind a familiar set of bushes.
The facade of number twelve Grimmauld Place visible through them.
Lazy Sundays made Hermione sleepy.
Putting down A History of Magic, Hermione stretched. A soft moan escaped her closed lips before becoming a yawn. It was only a quarter to one in the afternoon.
She was actually tired and sleepy after half a day of doing nothing.
The curly haired witch stared at the clouds through an open window. Heat and suffocating humidity aside, the skies were dark grey. A promise of future rain to come.
Hermione licked her dry lips, thirst burning her throat. Cool fizzy drink in mind, Hermione stood, slipping her feet into beaded sandals.
'Some day you will find me, caught beneath the landslide,' Hermione muttered as she made her way downstairs. 'In a champagne supernova in the sky.'
The monotone and muffled sound of Hooky practicing his reading interrupting her singing. Every so often Batty corrected him slowly, her voice that of a person helping another with their pronunciation.
Deciding to forego a greeting, the young witch turned into the kitchen and reached for the fridge in search of Coke. There was only lemonade, bottled water and juice though. Which she didn't fancy.
The cupboard then, she could always just pop some ice in her glass. No joy though. When had they run out? Batty would know.
Heading towards the muffled voices of her housemates Hermione entered the sitting room.
Sat on opposite lounge chairs, Batty and Hooky where engrossed in their individual hobbies. The telly on for noise purposes only.
Hooky licked a finger, flipping a page. Pink, diamond studded, winged glasses glittered with his every move. Thin, grey lips moved as he read under his breath.
Batty's back was to her. Her tiny little head barely visible above the high winged back chair the older witch favoured. Hermione didn't need to step closer to see what she was doing. She already knew.
Batty, Hermione realised rather quickly, was obsessed with her Mokeskin pouch. The magic of it insulted her somehow. Apparently, as a world renowned scholar, Batty firmly believed that some magics were well within her scope of control. The pouch, by her reasoning, challenged her ability and knowledge. She wanted to break into it. Unfortunately for Batty and fortunately for her, the Mokeskin acted as it always did. With every spell aimed, every attempt to grab it, the pouch shrunk in size. She'd lost count of the many times, the bag had disappeared before her eyes because the elder woman had tried to grab it in a fit of frustration. It'd brought her hours of entertainment she had to admit.
'Fucking bollocksing piece of shite,' Batty shouted at the innocent bag. 'I hate you!'
Hermione bit back a smile. 'No luck then?'
'Piss off!'
She had to fight down a laugh. 'Do you know we're out of Coke?'
Batty's white hair shook side to side. 'Rat bastard over there drank the last.'
Hooky, completely unperturbed by the comment continued to read. His only reaction, an upwards glance and a brow raised before licking his finger and once again flipping the page. His fingernails where painted a hot pink colour. His book's title, The Devil's Den.
The brunette hoped it wasn't one of those disgusting novels he'd suddenly become so fond of.
Hermione sighed, brown eyes running the length of the room. She really wanted a fizzy drink.
'Hooky can you get me my purse please?'
The elf didn't look up or stop his muttering as he snapped his fingers. With a pop, her bag bobbed in the air before her. A variety of muted colours and beaded, she'd fallen in love with it the instant she had set eyes on it. Knowing this, Batty hadn't hesitated on getting it for her. Though she'd grown to own a few possessions, this bag was her absolute favourite thing.
'Thank you,' she mumbled as she threw the strap across her left shoulder so that the drawstring purse dangled on her right thigh. 'Right. I'm going to the shop,' she announced, looking up. 'Do you guys want anything?'
Batty didn't turn to look at her and Hooky didn't so much as move but something in the air had shifted.
'You're going to the shop?' asked Batty slowly, not turning to look at her.
'Yes?' she replied just as slowly, confused and curious as to the odd vibe she was suddenly getting from the pair.
Hooky lifted his book so that it covered the whole of his head. His big, bat-like ears peeking from the corners.
'Alright,' said Batty. 'Would you... mind... getting a few things?'
'Sure.'
Hooky's ears twitched.
Her eyes moved from the elf to the back of Batty's white head. 'Is everything alri-'
'-Fine! Yeah! Just... trying to break into this bollocksing thing is all,' she said pointing at the Mokeskin pouch. 'Concentrating you know! Now, away with you! Leave us to do our very important things.'
Hermione stared at her a bit longer before shaking her head and leaving the room. She'd try and figure out what their problem was, but she had long given in to the inevitable fact that they were both beyond the scope of normal, logical understanding. She headed back towards the fridge where Batty kept her shopping lists.
Beside the Muggle list, held up by a magnet that read 'Well behaved women rarely make history', was Batty's magical shopping list. Unlike the Muggle one which consisted of household items, this list had nothing but potion ingredients. She read it and noted that the majority were for her potions: the ones she took for headaches, panic attacks and Vitamix.
She didn't take the Calming Draught as much as she used to, nor did she need it all that much but it was still a handy potion to have around. She took both lists and headed back.
As she neared the sitting room, hissing whispers could be heard.
Becoming increasingly frustrated with their behaviour, she walked into the room glaring.
'What is your problem?' she demanded, arms crossed. 'Why are you two acting so bloody odd?'
The pair started and it just annoyed her further.
'We're not!' exclaimed Batty.
'You're whispering,' she countered.
Batty, still not looking at her, waved a dismissive, liver-spotted hand. 'I was correcting Hooky's pronunciation... and explaining to him why colour was spelled wrong - Dozy Yanks - bastardising the English language, you know? Damn the lot... and such.'
'Right...' Hermione murmured, staring at Hooky. His face still hidden behind the novel. 'Hooky?'
'Y-yes?' squeaked the elf.
'Your book is upside down.'
'-Are you leaving or not? Cos Hooky needs to read. Hooky, read!'
The tiny elf jumped at her barking tone. Flipping the book back to its correct position, she saw his small cheeks redden. Hooky didn't look up all throughout.
'-with a hea-ving bu-ssom, she stared at his en-gor-ged mem...'
Hermione shook her head, covering her ears as she turned to leave. No matter how hard she complained to Batty about it, she did not stop him from reading those cheap and trashy romance novels.
'He likes them! It's his choice, don't try to change him!' Yelled Batty after her as she reached the door.
Reaching for her purse, she checked if she had enough to buy everything needed. Dumbledore's stipend was more than enough of course but she didn't know if she was carrying enough of both currency to get everything needed.
Once secure in her Galleon and quid situation, she pulled the front door open and was met with a slap to the face that was humidity.
'Damn weather,' she muttered staring up at the cloudy sky.
It really did look like it would rain soon.
As if reading her thoughts, Batty called out from her seat. 'Looks like it'll rain, best take a brolly!'
She turned back and took a step towards the cupboard under the stairs. She stopped, biting her lip. Though only a few steps away, it still felt like too much work.
She considered the dark clouds. It'd been like this for the past two days. Not a single drop had fallen though...
The young witch shook her head. Deciding against the hard and tedious three steps needed to reach the cupboard and grab the umbrella hanging on the inside of the door.
Once the door shut firmly behind her, she stood on the porch, dark eyes staring at the lists clutched in each hand. Milk, eggs, bread, tomatoes, courgettes... the Muggle list was twelve items alone. The magical list held ten. Lots of things to get. Thankfully, Batty had placed an Undetectable Extension Charm on her handbag.
Turning left down the empty street she made her way to the market. Her loose top and denim shorts confining in the heat. Her ponytail tickling the back of her neck as curls that'd sprung free began to stick to her sweating brow. The humidity really was suffocating.
'-Someday you will find me,' she sang again.
That song had been stuck in her head all day and she'd seen no reason to fight it. So she sang and walked, smiling at those who called out to her. Enjoying the scenery and fresh scents of the flowers and trees that had invaded the village.
Godric's Hollow was absolutely charming.
The small village had become home. As difficult as her journey had been, she had to admit that she had grown fond of its inhabitants and simplicity. Country living wasn't so bad after all.
With its narrow roads and cottages, cobble stone streets and old streetlights, the small community moved at its own pace. Isolated as it was, the people of Godric's Hollow had their own set of rules. Hermione suspected that the International Statue of Secrecy was nothing more than a joke to the wizards of this village.
On more than one occasion, she had witnessed witches and wizards use magic. Out in the open, uncaring of being seen as if magic was no big secret. She'd asked Batty about this of course.
The older witch had simply shrugged. 'Godric's Hollow has existed for thousands of years Hermione. Muggles and Wizards have co-existed here from the very beginning. Surnames may have changed and families evolved, but about... eighty percent, I think? Of the people born here, will die here. Godric's Hollow looks after its own. Yes Muggles have seen magic, yes they know that some of us- with our cloaks and our owls and our herbal syrups and sticks- that we're different. But they don't ask questions and we don't give them any answers. They just know they're safe and we do the best we can to protect them. If Tony Cox just happens to give that sickly Jones child with bad blood a replenishing potion every three months, we look the other way. In return, the Muggles don't talk to the outside world about the weird shit they witness on a daily basis. It's give and take and it suits us all just fine.'
Hermione hadn't known how to feel about that. The Muggleborn in her praised the approach to the village's cohabitation. The part of her that remained bitter couldn't help but think that trust was being given much too freely.
As for protecting the Muggles, 'A blanket Anti-Apparition ward surrounds the whole of village. My friend Phemmy brought the magical community together and organised it. Back when Voldemort was starting to grow in power and the Ministry was too stupid to act. If Death Eaters want to attack, they'll have to do it on foot.'
Another reason why Dumbledore had brought her here no doubt.
She kept walking, her mind slowly becoming void of serious topics.
Hermione crossed an old stone bridge, oblivious to the babbling brook beneath her, uncaring of the chirping birds and distant ringing church bells. 'And all the roads we have to walk are winding,' she sang softly as she focused on her feet. The lyrics replacing thought. 'And all the lights that lead us there are blinding.'
Instinctive and mechanical, her steps led her to the centre square where market day was in full swing.
Stalls with varying items stood end to end. Residents of the small town walked up and down looking and stopping to see what was being sold and offered.
Hermione, unrushed and distracted, took her time. Occasionally stopped to chat with the stall owners as she purchased her items. In the end, she found everything on the Muggle list except the eggs and milk. Those she really would have to go to the shop for.
She took the longest time with a teenage girl who sold handmade, hemp bracelets. Hermione had always enjoyed them, even in her own time, but had never gotten around to owning one. It hadn't been too hard a decision to get one, the difficult choice had been picking one out.
'Did you do these on your own?' she asked the blushing teenage girl, who nodded.
Hermione smiled at the redhead with round cheeks and laughing eyes. 'They're very pretty, how much?'
'50p?' the teen answered meekly.
Hermione nodded. The girl was severely under-pricing them. She must not have known the value of her craft because her work was real-
'Oh,' Hermione said as a beaded bracelet caught her eye. Hidden amongst all the black, brown and Rastafarian patterns, she saw a familiar and unique bit of glass.
Black and loosely braided, the bracelet itself wasn't unique in its pattern. It was quite common in fact, going by the girl's repeated use of it, but the river glass hanging from the two loose ends made it absolutely gorgeous.
Deep turquoise, rough and warm to the touch, clear marbling glinted back at her as the glass caught whatever bit of light it could. Come night time that light would shift and an inner glow would shine from it.
That wasn't a regular, everyday river glass. It was exclusively found in the Great Lake of Hogwarts. Used by the Merpeople, the stones were hard to find as they were hoarded by the underwater beings. It was rumoured that the stones were used to see at night.
Crystal clear in the mornings, the more light it caught the bluer it turned and the brighter it shined. And here it was, far away from Hogwarts, being sold by a teenage girl in a Muggle stall.
The second she pulled it out, the girl froze. Perhaps not so Muggle after all. The girl, poor thing, looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Her hand opened and closed a few times, there was no doubt in Hermione's mind that the redhead wanted to snatch it back.
'I like these stones,' said Hermione, acting like she hadn't seen the girl's unease. 'They look like the ones around my old school in Scotland.'
The girl's mouth fell open and Hermione felt a smile pulling at her lips. Shocked, blue eyes turned suspicious as they studied her. Hermione searched the girl for any signs of House colours. Sure enough, she spotted the girl's own yellow and black bracelet.
She nodded at it, 'I like yours too, though I prefer scarlet and gold.'
The girl laughed, rolling her eyes. 'Yeah, I ran out of them a while back.'
'I don't doubt it.'
She paid double for the bracelet and kindly asked the girl to put it on her. Right wrist beautifully adorned, the brunette moved along. Within the hour, she'd purchased everything on the Muggle shopping list and was heavy a few handmade items. All that was left were the potion ingredients. Looking for a particular stall, she searched for a white cart filled with colourful flowers.
She found the stall at the end, a smiling woman behind it. Olive skinned, dark haired and brown eyed, the older woman was rather beautiful. Exotic features and her style of dress made it very obvious that she had not been born and raised in the country. She was also quite possibly the only non-Caucasian in town. Bubbly and sweet, the villagers loved her. They couldn't always understand her heavily accented English though.
Hermione didn't know much about the Spanish Muggle woman. The little that she did know, she'd learned because of Batty. According to the rumour mill, her husband a religious Muggleborn wizard, had gone off to some third world country as a missionary. When he returned, years later, he'd brought her along. The pair ran the flower shop together, which just happened to double as a magical apothecary.
'Muggle in the front and Wizard in the back,' Batty had stated.
'Hello Mrs. Cox.'
'Hirminy! Hola! Toolips for you?!'
Hermione shook her head at the smiling woman. 'Not today, they're lovely though thank you. I was wondering if the back of the shop was open?'
Mrs. Cox smiled, nodding. A cross dangling from her neck, flashing with her every move. Her black hair shiny and bouncy. 'Jes, open today. Antonio is brooing in celar.'
Hermione nodded. 'I'll just be going then. Thank you.'
A small hand stopped her. The petite woman was wrapping five tulips of varying colours in brown paper and handed them to her, smiling. 'For Loca.'
She bit her bottom lip as she accepted the small bouquet. 'I'll tell Crazy they're from you.'
'Jes,' said the woman laughing.
With sparring wave, Hermione made way towards the outskirts of town.
Unlike the other shops, the Apothecary was not located in the town square. Hermione suspected it had been a conscious decision on Mr. Cox's part. The man wasn't exactly a Potion's Master. By his own admission, he'd made mistakes in the form of small explosions more than once.
The shop, Olde Rosa's, the name a play on words of both their ethnicities, stood alone at the end of a dirty and paved road. An old, silver Aston Martin was parked in the front, the sign on the front of the shop said closed.
She walked to the back, the scent of potion fumes growing stronger with each step. The back door sign read, Open, kindly mind the plants.
She stepped closer and accidentally knocked over potted daisies. She hoped he hadn't seen it.
As she entered, a bell rang above her signalling her entrance. The soothing and comforting smells of an apothecary welcomed her like an old friend.
The sound of the telly reached her ears. Mr. Cox, nowhere to be seen, was chanting in the back.
'Two world wars and one world c-'
She shook her head, smiling. Eventually mouthing the words along, waiting for him to finish. One must never interrupt a man when football was on. Or so her dad had told her. At least that was what she thought he meant when he replied to her interruptions with, 'Hermione, footie.'
Potions fumes drifted over her, the scents of drying herbs mixed with the smells of unpleasant potion ingredients. Though generally considered disgusting and foul, Hermione relished in the odour. The familiarity of it all was comforting.
'Mr. Cox!' she eventually managed to yell, letting him know it was her.
'Get what you need and I'll be with you in a second love!' called out a voice from below her sandaled feet.
Knowing the friendly man meant what he said, she made her way behind the counter and with a step ladder began gathering the ingredients on Batty's list.
She had collected all but one by the time the tall man appeared. Dirty blond and pale, the man towered over her five foot four frame. Intimidating at first sight, the man had proven himself to be quite kind and gentle.
'Anything I can help with?'
She turned and smiled at him. 'Nope. Got it all. Just need a pouch of standard ingredient and I'm set.'
Mr. Cox nodded walking towards the counter and reached into a bin. 'Let me help with that then.'
'Thank you,' she said as she began placing potion vials and ingredients into her handbag.
'Those tulips for Batty?'
She breathed a laugh, 'Yeah. Mrs. Cox offered them.'
A loud laugh echoed across the room. 'Yeah, Rosa likes Batty. Where is she by the way?'
'Batty?' she asked, tackling a bottle into the bag. 'She's home.'
'Ah!' he said nodding, smiling knowingly. 'Wanted some alone time eh? Don't blame you love. Some-'
Hermione stopped listening.
Her breath caught in her throat. Her vision swam. She was lightheaded and her knees grew weak.
She was alone.
She was alone.
Bottles began to rattle. Herbs began to knock together. Candles flickered and books toppled over.
'Jesus Christ what the feck is that?'
Mr. Cox's voice broke through the haze, managing to steady her. Just, but it was enough for her to centre herself.
Swallowing thickly, panting, cold sweat running down her back, Hermione closed her eyes and recalled the ingredients on her list.
Distractions were key. Not breathing.
Potion ingredients echoing in her head, Hermione found some measure of control.
When she opened her eyes, she was staring at shattered potion vials on the counter. Placed there by Mr. Cox who was still talking, his voice loud and distracted but she didn't understand a word. She blinked and then the tall man was there, broken bottles in hand.
'That was weird.' He muttered to the floor, eyes downcast, bending over to pick something up. Another broken bottle joined the rest. He ran worried eyes over her. 'Are you alright Hermione? Nothing hit you did it?'
She shook her head, too afraid to speak. She didn't trust herself to open her mouth.
'Good. Wouldn't want Bat-'
Tears blurred her vision. The older man continued to talk but she couldn't hear him over her own beating heart. A trembling hand wiped at her eyes as the older man continued to pick things off the floor, oblivious to her growing panic.
'I have to go now,' she said in a small voice.
Mr. Cox nodded and thanked her when she put down five Galleons with a shaking hand.
The ringing bell caused her to jump and all candles flickered off as the sound of breaking glass rang out.
'What in th-'
The door shut behind her cutting off the man's shocked exclamations. Stood outside the shop and completely dazed, Hermione could do nothing more than stare at her surroundings.
She was alone.
A tear fell down her face as her chest tightened. She quickly wiped it away. She needed to be alert. Blurry eyes would only be an obstacle.
She had to choke back a sob.
'Hermione?' called Mr. Cox's muffled voice.
He was no doubt wondering what she was still doing outside his shop but it didn't matter, she still jumped and her magic still reacted.
His potted plants began rattling, as they began to elevate. Hermione took off. Her reaction instinctual: Run. Run and hide.
She didn't know how or why she ended up where she did, but she'd found herself at the back of the village's library. Small as it was, compared to the rest of the village, it was relatively secluded. Farther away from the centre of town. More so than the Apothecary. At least a fifteen minute walk. Not to mention that unlike the shop with its open fields, the library was surrounded by woods on three sides. It also happened to be closed.
She'd just made it easier to get kidnapped.
It'd been three weeks since Voldemort attacked all those places. It was unlikely that he would attack here. Except he would, wouldn't he? It was exactly the type of thing he would do. A random raid, on a helpless village, when it was least expected.
The bin beside her shook. She needed to control herself.
Hermione shut her eyes, struggling to reason her way through this ordeal. She needed to steady herself. She needed to think.
The young witch sat down, leaning against the old stone building, trying to steady her breaths and quell the fear and paranoia.
'You're safe,' she whispered to herself.
You're alright, echoed a sweet voice in her head.
It'd sounded like Batty.
She knew that logically, nothing had changed. The village was the same. Nothing had physically been altered. But she would swear to God Himself that Godric's Hollow, blanketed with grey skies as it was, was suddenly much more sinister.
The quiet village was no longer serene, but held deep dark secrets. Opened windows hid Death Eaters. With every corner turned, she ran the risk of being taken away.
Her perception had changed. That was all. Knowing that didn't ease her panic. Because she was still out here, alone.
With dawning realisation, it occurred to her that this was the reason Batty and Hooky had acted so strangely. They had realised what her offer to head out to the market meant. They'd let her go alone. They knew she was safe. They wouldn't have allowed her to leave otherwise.
Her breath steadied and her heart rate slowed. Her shoulders relaxed.
She was okay.
Pebbles suddenly dropped around her as her magic once again came under her control. She was still shaken though. For no reason other than to steady her nerves, she stretched out a hand, palm down and pointed at the nearest rock.
It wiggled, barely stirring. She focused harder. The pebble lifted off the ground and began to slowly turn.
It's not much, thought Hermione.
But it's a start, replied the same voice as before.
Her hand started to hurt and her head began to ache. Releasing the spell, she sat back, staring at the trees that surrounded her. Tall strands of grass and wild flowers danced in the slight breeze. She lost track of time, entranced as she was. The adrenaline rush had since passed and her body demanded sleep but sat on hard pavement, her bum aching, she still couldn't will herself to get up.
Thunder roared making her jump. The flash that followed, shot another bolt of fear through her. Wild eyes scanned the area and she flinched when cold droplets fell on her nose. Around her, rain began to fall.
Shaking her head at her utter ridiculousness, she released a breathy laugh. Hermione closed her eyes and her head fell against the wall. The small droplets felt lovely. And that's when the heavens opened. Batty's advice about bringing an umbrella along rang through her head as it really began to pour down.
She had actually stepped out on her own.
She didn't react when another rumble from the sky rang out and Hermione felt the corners of her lips lift. Tentative at first, her smile morphed into laughter. She didn't try to fight it or supress it this time and her laugh mixed in with the thunder and lightning and it was all music to her ears.
The young witch suspected she was crying, but the rain made it impossible to know. Still, she continued to laugh.
When her laughter died away, a still smiling Hermione closed her eyes and once again tilted her face towards the sky. Rain splattered across her rapidly cooling flesh.
Soaking wet and smiling, Hermione picked the Tulips and stood. Brushing back her fringe, the witch turned to leave. Her smile fell and a chill that had nothing to do with the storm, ran down her spine.
The world stopped, time slowed and she froze.
Had it not been for the rain framing its form, she wouldn't have known the person was there.
The outline of a hooded figure stood in the middle of the alley, staring and waiting. Blocking her only means of escape.
The storm faded away. The world became muted, barely heard through the sounds of her own beating heart and slow, measured breaths. The whole of her being zeroed in on the figure blocking her path.
This was it. She'd been found. This was how she died.
Then the person took a step towards her. She saw a hand appear. A wand tip flaring to life... and instinct kicked in.
She couldn't run. Woods were behind her. Home was ahead of her, behind the hooded figure's back.
She was trapped and she had to fight.
A sharp pain shot through her temple then. The pain so strong, it momentarily blinding her.
The sensation she felt afterward was difficult to describe. It was like a rolling wave that jolted her core. She was electricity and fire, vibration and light. Hermione knew nothing. She was nothing more than a ball of energy. She was floating and drowning. She was all these things at once and the moment her magic exploded out of her, the world shook.
Everything toppled over. A rippling shock wave, with her at its centre, reverberated.
Falling rain turned to ice. The library's windows shattered. A bin fell over, rubbish burned. Grass and flowers now lay flat. The trees creaked as burning branches fell.
Rattled and shaking, completely drained as her head throbbed, struggling to remain standing as her weak knees shook and gasping for breath, Hermione watched as the prone figure groaned and slowly sat up.
'What the fuck?!'
A hand appeared and the hood was pulled away.
Hermione's mouth fell open as wide eyes fell on the face of her pursuer.
Younger than she ever remembered seeing him, hair much shorter than she recalled, he - it couldn't be - but it was... because there was no mistaking those beautiful silver eyes and handsome face.
Sirius?!