As per usual, many thanks to Dave for his beta skills. He's on my faves list, check him out sometime.
Silver
Flame
'There has to be an easier way to do this,' groaned Hermione.
Exhausted, overwhelmed and completely frustrated, she glared at nothing in particular. The letters scattered around her doing nothing to help her foul mood.
'There isn't. This is the only fool-proof method.'
She dropped the parchment she'd been holding on a nearby pile that contained approximately twenty or so letters, all from the same man and woman. Whoever Bernard Gibson was, there was no doubt in her mind that the love he'd shared with Mary Carmichael of Leeds, ran deep and without restraint. They'd each sent a letter per week by the looks of it.
It was sweet.
Romantic.
Tragic.
According to the list of names she'd been given, he'd been injured in a safe house raid a week ago. He didn't make it. The majority of their letters, undelivered. It was possible Mary Carmichael didn't even know he was dead. He was gone and the woman he'd loved had yet to mourn him because to her, he was simply hidden away.
She lived, unknowing that his final goodbye sat forgotten, in an overflowing manila envelope.
It angered her. Made her ache with empty, pointless longing.
Emotionally wrung out did not begin to describe how she felt. She'd been doing this whole letter reading and sorting thing a fortnight and she was done.
She'd been fine at first but then her dreams began and now, she wasn't so okay anymore. It was doing her head in but even she knew the importance of her work. In the grand scheme of things it may not have made a difference but it was something. If nothing else, it'd be a goodbye for someone somewhere.
It was a thankless job. One she was supposed to do with the utmost care so as to not let anything slip by, while simultaneously remaining unaffected. Disassociation is key, Sirius had said.
Problem was, she wasn't hard wired that way. Hermione had always cared a bit too much when she probably shouldn't have and this time had been no different.
The letters had begun to affect her.
Her sleep grew steadily interrupted as her nightmares turned into dreams. Images of her loved ones replaced tortured Muggleborns, war and death. Memories long suppressed returned to her in vibrant colours. Forgotten days of mindless conversations, broken by laughter haunted her dreams. It was bittersweet torture.
The nightmares had rarely lingered after she'd woken up. Her dreams stayed with her for days. Sometimes they faded upon waking and that was much worse. Honestly, at this point, she didn't know which she preferred.
Hermione picked up another letter and began to read.
Dear Matilde. Hope you're well ... arrived safely ... Order members have been kind and welcoming ... cannot tell you where I am but rest assured that I am well. Please do not worry. I am not alone as you'd feared. It would appear that the Auror who advised me to seek out the Headmaster was correct. There are plenty of us here. From different places and all with their own fascinating stories to tell that it's impossible to feel alone. For instance, just next door there's an older woman who'd once worked as Winston Churchill's maid! You will not believe the stories she tells. Just the other day she told me of his penchant for naked ... Again, don't worry ... I miss you ... take care ... see you soon. Yours, Sarah Pennington. P.S. Please give Lady Miss Spottington III a cuddle for me and tell her mummy misses her. I've enclosed a spot of catnip for her. Take care friend.
She looked at the date and sighed. Dated ten months ago. Hermione searched for the woman's name and found her alive and well in Inverness.
Another drop of bitterness coated the back of her throat.
'More than half of these people only bother with I love yous and I miss yous and be safes and endless reassurances and yet their letters are undelivered,' she complained. 'It's not right.'
Sirius grunted as he began to ladle Calming Drought into a bottle. 'Maybe not, but like you said only more than half do. What about the others who are stupid enough to give away their location just because they're homesick or horny?'
The brunette bit the inside of her cheek. It was true. She'd read a few letters from people who did not seem to understand the words, protective custody.
It was understandable, she supposed, to miss your loved ones and to want to let them know where you were but really. Some of these damn people were stupid as hell.
Selfish.
It disgusted her.
Hermione shook her head. 'What about House Elves?'
'Too dangerous for them and for the households they service. If they're recognised as belonging to a certain family then that family is fucked.'
'Owls? No wait. We already discussed that,' she mumbled as he nodded.
'Owls can be captured,' they said together.
'Yeah,' she said, her voice shaky.
She felt his gaze on her almost instantly.
'You alright Granger? Need a break?'
She shook her head and then abruptly nodded as she changed her mind. 'Yeah. Can we switch for a bit?'
The Marauder set down the ladle and vial he'd been holding as she pushed off her seat and took his place behind the table.
Her eyes itched and watered as she tried to blink away tears. Her throat burning and chest heavy.
'Don't start fucking crying.'
Hermione glared at the Marauder. 'I'm not,' she lied.
'No?'
'No.'
'Then your brain is leaking.'
Rather than dignifying his stupidity with an answer she picked up the ladle as the sound of ripping envelopes reached her ears.
'You can't let these things get to you Granger. You have to push shit away otherwise you'll be fucking useless.'
Hermione turned and found him reading the letter in his hand. A frown on his brow, the edges of his smooth lips turned down.
He was a constant contradiction.
A fortnight had passed since their truce and in that time, she'd discovered more about him than she'd ever suspected and all of it without him saying a single word.
The Marauder was all gestures and actions. What he said didn't always match up with what he did.
She'd asked about the war, he'd told her to shut her mouth and stop asking questions. The next day he'd brought her an independent newspaper, free of the Ministry's censure.
He said that it was pointless to worry so damn much but he asked her to check over his potions when he thought he'd made a mistake.
His air of nonchalance was forced. She knew this because he was constantly moving. His hands would fidget and his legs shook when the rest of him stood still. He didn't like silence, it seemed to make him nervous. If the music was too loud, he got anxious.
The brunette wished she could say it hadn't altered her opinion of him but it had.
She saw him as he was and suddenly the great Sirius Black, animagus, Marauder and legend became human and just as fragile.
He was scared.
Hermione may have jumped at loud noises but his eyes darted to every shadow.
The anger was real though. It was the only part of him that wasn't a front for something else. There was no way to hide that much frustration. It was welcomed in an odd sort of way. He was real, raw and in his own way, damaged.
He made her feel less alone.
'Stop staring Granger,' he muttered, still studying the letter. 'I'm not your type.'
'Don't flatter yourself. I was just thinking-'
'Did it hurt?'
She spared him a glance before returning to her task. 'What have people tried?'
'With the letters?' he asked, looking back up at her. 'Owls, elves, two-way mirrors, enchanted parchment and Muggle post.'
Hermione glared down at the potion. 'How could they all fail?'
'Easily. We didn't want to endanger our house-elves or owls so we never really tried to use them. Enchanting parchment is tricky and time consuming and unsafe. People still say too much in letters, special parchment or not. Two-way mirrors, same thing. Plus, we had some bloke who had his own set and dropped it while fleeing a raid. Death Eaters found a way to trace back its magic and locate its twin. The man's entire family was tortured and killed. So that idea died fairly quickly. As for the Muggle post, it's too risky. Not only does it endanger Muggles and the International Statue of Secrecy, it forces the Ministry to work alongside Muggles which the Wizenmagot and Order isn't too keen on.'
'No, I imagine not.'
'Mm. Admit defeat Granger. Better people have tried to find a secure method of communication and have failed repeatedly. What hope do we have?'
'We could at least try.'
Sirius nodded. 'I could try a lot of shit. Doesn't mean I'm going to or that I'll succeed.'
'So you don't care?'
'Not really. My job is to keep these people safe and to an extent, informed. Not work as an owl in between all the life-endangering shit. But, if you somehow manage to find a cheap and effective way of sending messages, I'll fund your discovery and throw so much fucking money at you that you won't know what to do with it.'
Hermione scowled, staring at him. 'I don't need your...' Galleons.
Much like before, the idea burst from thin air and took rapid shape. She swallowed thickly, her mind racing. Electric fire coursing through the synapses of her brain.
She was a bloody idiot.
'We can use coins,' she said, sounding breathless to her own ears.
Sirius frowned at her, questions in his eyes. Or confusion. Most likely both. Grey eyes studied her, brow furrowed. She nodded at him. She was right. She knew she was. They could use Galleons. Not everyone could be given one of course, only those who proved themselves trustworthy and it'd be a one way communication but at least there would be evidence that the loved one still lived.
Her eyes shot back to him.
'We could use coins,' she said again.
Sirius blinked at her and spoke slowly. 'What are you on about Granger?'
'Enchanted coins. Galleons. We can use them to send messages.'
'Bullshit.'
She shook her head. 'It's not, I've used them before.'
He didn't believe her. She'd have to show him.
The door burst open as she ran towards it. Sirius shouted, loud footsteps echoed beneath her as her heart pounded in her ears. The register popped open and she grabbed a gold coin.
'Granger! What the fu-'
Hermione turned as Sirius reached her. Wand out, eyes blazing, chest heaving. He looked angry but she didn't care. She snatched his wand and with a tap, two Galleons shuffled out of the single one. Three perfect copies. Only one was valid. She put the real one back lest she confused them.
'Gra-'
She shook her head absentmindedly. 'It won't work on the real one. It has to be a fake coin.'
A downward flick with a curl at the bottom, like a reverse J and two curls at the end. The coins glowed white. She tapped one twice and its counterpart burned red before fading back to normal and cancelling the spell. She smiled and shoved the secondary coin to an unmoving Marauder.
'Look at the numbers on top,' she instructed, tapping her own Galleon. We can use coins.
Expectant eyes darted up to the Sirius, who flinched when his coin burned white. His mouth fell open.
For several seconds nothing was said. Pride burned in her chest at having stunned him and he was too shell-shocked to do more than look between her and his coin. Finally sense kicked in and the Marauder blinked.
'Did you just use my fucking wand?'
Hermione frowned. And then scowled.
She'd just shown him something useful and if she was honest, pretty damn impressive and rather than comment on the magic he complained about her using his wan- Hermione sucked in a shaky breath, her eyes growing wide as she looked down at her hand. To the wand clasped firmly by trembling fingers.
She'd used her magic.
She swallowed thickly. Breathing was getting harder to do and her eyes were stinging.
'Hey.'
Hermione didn't look away from her hand. Didn't react when his larger hand reclaimed the wand.
'Sit down Granger. You look a bit pale.'
She blinked and a tear fell, she let it. Her eyes sought him out.
'You alright?'
His voice was soft again. Hermione jerked her head, nodding. He shifted in front of her. 'Right. Shit. Okay. Just, hold on.'
He moved. Did something, she didn't know what but suddenly his arms were gripping hers and then she was sitting and a flask was being shoved into her hand.
'Here, drink this.'
She did as told and almost immediately started choking as Firewhisky burned her throat and nose, the taste shocking her into accidentally inhaling some of it. Her eyes watered again but for an entirely different reason.
Still coughing, dark eyes shot to the Marauder. He was studying the coin again, flipping it over in his hand. Thumb moving over the markings.
'Looks real,' he muttered.
Hermione cleared her scratchy throat, nodding.
Sirius blinked. 'How'd you do it?'
Answering coughs were the only reply she could give him. Grey eyes darted back to the coin before he reached for her own, which lay on the counter between them.
A tap of his wand and a glowing coin.
He looked up at her, disbelief pouring out of him as he shook his head. He may not admit it but she saw the truth in his eyes and in the way he looked at her. She'd impressed him.
'Told you,' she managed to croak out.
The Marauder huffed a laugh. 'You just had to add that in didn't you?'
She nodded because yes, she really did need to.
'How'd you do it?'
Much like fifth year, Hermione explained the logic behind the magic and where her idea originated from. He'd reacted with nothing more than a twitch of his eyebrows.
'That's some fancy spell casting Granger.'
She shrugged, trying to look modest while inwardly pleased with his praise. 'It's nothing.'
'It's advanced magic, not easily cast. While using someone else's wand too. As your magic's being an arse.'
The brunette squirmed, starting to feel a bit shy. She hadn't really thought of it. She'd just acted. Saw his wand, needed to perform a spell and bam! Magic.
A watery smile formed on her lips.
Sirius laughed as he tossed her back her coin. 'Not bad Granger. Not bad at all.'
Hermione arched an eyebrow at the message written in it. He grinned back at her.
'Are you going to tell Dumbledore?'
'About your magic suddenly making an unexpected appearance? Not unless you tell me to. I will mention this coin idea though. Expect a visit from him or Moody in future I think.' Sirius gestured at the cellar. 'Come on Granger we've got shit to do.'
When she entered the room, he was already tearing into a new letter. Brow furrowed in concentration as a pout graced his lips.
'Granger stop bloody staring.'
'I'm not,' she said looking away. Her cheeks burning.
'Sorry about using your wand,' she murmured, needing it to be said. 'I ... it just happened, I'm sorry.'
'Don't worry about it, just don't do it again.'
'But-'
'Let it go Granger.'
She nodded at the potions, fighting the urge to look back at him.
'What happened to your wand?' he asked her. She could see him watching her from the corner of her eye.
Hermione shrugged, her chest burning as her vision blurred. 'I don't know. Lost it.'
'Don't fucking start crying.'
'I'm. Not,' she hissed, glaring at him before returning her focus to the potions.
'Good ... one last thing Granger?'
Hermione frowned up at him, at his sudden change of tone.
'Did you like handling my wand?' he asked with a wink.
'Oh shut up,' she said as he laughed, her cheeks tinged pink.
His barking laughter rang throughout the cellar and she bit back a smile, his good humour infectious. Brown eyes studied the wizard, before quickly looking away.
Hermione had thought him cold, selfish and somewhat uncaring but the more she got to know him the more she began to realise how wrong she'd been.
He was angry, unpleasant and afraid. He did not seem to think before speaking and he was prone to acting before thinking.
A constant contradiction and that's why she'd been wrong about him.
All his flaws aside, he was passionate about what he was doing and was more than willing to lay down his life for what he knew was right. As scared as he was and as hard as he tried to hide it and look disinterested, he was anything but.
Hermione was starting to suspect it was a survival mechanism. Used to keep himself level headed and in the now which was preferable to giving in and feeling everything all at once. She understood that sentiment far too well. Because that, she realised, was his problem.
He felt far too deeply and cared a bit too much.
Granger was fiddling with her damn bracelet again.
Bloody witch just loved playing with those little blue stones. Thing was, she probably didn't even know she was doing it. It'd started earlier in the week and he was starting to think it was a nervous tick or something. It was helpful as fuck all if he was honest but it was starting to affect him too.
Usually, when she started playing with them he knew to switch stations and that usually solved the problem. Unfortunately for him, she'd started doing it a lot more lately and for every-fucking-thing. It was doing his head in.
For fuck's sake, they were only walking through the damn village. There was no one around. Batty's door was literally right there. Why the hell was she playing with the damn stones?
Whatever. She was the old bat's problem now.
The Marauder studied the street as she reached into her purse.
Key in place, she turned the metal and he felt the usual bit of magic hum through the air, a slight vibration that he felt against his chest. Not unpleasant but very obviously there. Proof that she was well guarded.
A cool breeze moved through the street, lifting his fringe and swaying her hair. A gentle reminder that September had arrived.
Another gust of wind and her bushy curls danced, filling the air with her clean scent. Pale eyes traced the curve of her spine and hips before blinking back up at her.
The witch turned and gave him a tight lipped smile.
'Good night Sirius.'
A terse nod. 'Night Granger.'
The Marauder took a bite of his sandwich as he turned towards his spot when the sound of a door opening and her scent alerted him of her presence. No sooner had he turned when the brunette walked briskly past him.
'Forgot to buy eggs,' she announced without a backwards glance.
Sirius took another bite of his dry meal as he walked behind her. He'd finished it by the time they reached the shop and even gave her a few coins to buy him a drink. He'd barely had enough time to lean against the wall before a bottle was thrust under his nose and she'd begun her speed walk through the village.
'Granger what the fuck is wrong with you?'
The brunette shook her head. 'She'd asked me to buy them this morning on my way back and I'd forgot.'
'That doesn't explain why you're bloody running,' he said, eyes focused on the back of her head.
'I left the bath running.'
As if Accio'd, the image of Granger soaking in a tub assaulted his brain. Of wet hair and water droplets running down her back, tracing her every curve.
He took a gulp of his drink as grey eyes flit down to her arse and back up again.
Huh. Not bad.
Eyes returned to said arse and he pointedly looked away.
Nice was one thing but he couldn't ogle Granger's arse. It wasn't like it was the best arse he'd ever seen.
He didn't think about it again until she entered her home and he had another quick glance. It was shocking he hadn't notice before. Then again, Granger had been insufferable at first. He'd been too busy glaring after her to pay close enough attention.
Marley's was nice too, he'd spent enough time staring at it to know. But then there was that redhead when he'd gone out in Birmingham. He was still comparing arses when Fabian arrived thirty minutes later, much earlier than usual.
'What's wrong?' he asked after making sure it was him.
'Nothing. Just needed a bit of quiet. Too much noise and activity and ... it was making me itch.'
Sirius nodded slowly. 'Everything alright?'
Fabian gave him a side smile that didn't reach his eyes. 'Yeah. Go on mate. I'll stay here.'
'Won't Dumbledore or Moody mind?'
'Probably,' said the shorter bloke as he took a seat at the base of the tree. 'But they're in Hogwarts and left Dorcas in charge for the night. They won't know.'
Something was wrong. His gut clenched. The Marauder swallowed thickly and opened his mouth to say something but Fabian cut him off.
'Sirius,' he said looking up at him. His tone leaving no room for discussion. 'Go.'
He ran. He didn't think. He just took off.
Reggie. Peter. James. Remus.
His boot clad feet pounded against the cobblestones, his hair flying behind him. Lungs burning, he reached the gate of Blossom Grove and jumped the fence. Through the garden door, past the large garden and beneath the tree he Disapparated.
A shift in his magic and the world turned grey as he started to run. Sounds and smells assaulted him as the woods whirled past him until finally, a flicker of fire caught his eye.
Grey became colours, smells and sounds lessened around him as he struggled to stand upright and keep his momentum. He reached the clearing, past the wards and barrelled into his home.
Panting, he stormed into the dining room and paused when all eyes fell on him. He saw it in their eyes long before Dorcas opened her mouth.
'Sirius.'
He shook his head annoyed and suddenly angered by her tone. He didn't need that placating, comforting bullshit she used on Muggles before erasing their memories.
'Who?' Who's dead? Who died? Reggie. Peter. James. Remus.
'James.'
Everything stopped.
All the air left his lungs and the room spun. His vision swam out of focus as his blood rushed in his ears.
Dorcas was talking again. He saw it. Her mouth was moving but he couldn't ... she wasn't...
A cool hand tickled the back of his neck. Soft and delicate fingers massaged the sensitive skin as soft lips pressed against his jaw, cheek and ear. Soft words, gently whispered in his ear.
'Sirius ... it's okay. He's just a day late ... he should've been back by now. It doesn't mean he's dead.'
A day late.
James was a day late.
That was okay.
It was fine.
It didn't mean anything.
These things happened sometimes. Unforeseen problems were common. The last time he'd travelled north, he'd found himself surrounded but safely hidden, in the highlands. Unable to Apparate and with an injured foot Sirius had been forced to wait out Snatchers, along with the four kids he'd been sent to pick up. It'd cost him three days.
Pete had been M.I.A. for two days a few months back. Remus a whole bloody week, a year ago. A day didn't mean anything.
It was fine.
It was.
It had to be.
The dog animagus' eyes darted to the witch standing before him. Her heat and scent overwhelming him. Comforting him as his heartbeat returned to normal.
Her beautiful, blue eyes studied him. 'Alright?'
Sirius pulled her into his arms, slamming his eyes shut.
For a second he'd thought- he'd thought...
'I'm being stupid,' he mumbled against her hair and suddenly stiffened when he opened his eyes and found the whole room watching them.
Curious looks mingled with worried glances.
'It's just a day,' Dorcas reaffirmed the lies. Her voice back to Obliviator mode. 'It doesn't mean anything.'
Sirius nodded because she was right. It didn't mean anything. Except it did. But it didn't.
It both did and didn't.
He grabbed Marley and gently pulled her away from him. Shaking hands pushed back his fringe and he swallowed thickly. Pale eyes looked at everything and nothing at once, avoiding the knowing and understanding looks he knew were being directed at him.
He cleared his throat as the noise around him slowly returned. Marley was still there in front of him but he couldn't look at her. If he did- if he did...
Sirius swallowed thickly, taking a backwards step and leaving the room.
He needed to be alone.
Marley said something behind him but he didn't look back or stop. The thought of Apparating hadn't even crossed his mind. Movement and stairs were the only logical thing he could think of at that moment.
He stopped outside James' door and cursed himself when he heard movement from inside. He was a shit friend. A knock and the door swung open.
Pale face splotchy. Green eyes, red-rimmed. Nose pink. Parted lips red and swollen from where she'd bitten them, hair dishevelled- even then, Lily Evans was lovely.
Sirius lifted his arms and without hesitation, the petite witch slammed into him. Body shaking as she sobbed into his chest.
He did what he could, which was basically nothing. Words weren't enough and nothing could be done. Until more information came in all they could do was sit and wait.
Pointless waiting and silence because he was useless and words were empty fucking things. But he had to do something. James expected it of him.
'Alright Evans that's enough.' He pushed her away and further into the room, willing the door shut behind him. 'Shut it.'
Her tears didn't stop but she slowly quieted. Eventually the sobs became sniffles and after some time, pitiful eyes looked up at him.
Cursing inwardly he ran his hand through his hair.
He was shit with crying women. Remus was the one who normally dealt with an over emotional Evans when James wasn't around. Sometimes Pete, but never him.
Out of insecurity and awkwardness, Sirius gestured to the bed. If he was going to make shit worse, there was no reason why they couldn't be comfortable.
'Come on Evans, give us a cuddle.'
She followed blindly and didn't protest, just did as he said. He fucking hated that. Evans was all fire and fury. Not this.
The redhead didn't do compliance.
Sirius leant against the headboard and pulled her between his legs, curled on her side, tucked under his chin. She started crying again and his eyes started burning.
Her gut-wrenching sobs were loud. There was too much noise.
'Shut the fuck up Evans,' Sirius muttered, his voice thick. 'He's only been gone a day. He wouldn't want you crying and we both know it.'
More sniffing. 'Your heart is racing.'
It was. 'Lies.'
'I can hear it.'
'You're sat between my legs Evans, of course it's racing.'
She didn't react to his baiting. He hadn't really expected her to.
'Do you really think he's okay?'
No. 'Yes.'
The witch shifted and tearful, green eyes met his stare as his heart continued to race. 'You're lying.'
Sirius looked away, pulling her back against him. 'Marley's downstairs. I was an arse to her again. You should probably slap me.'
She didn't say anything and he fought the urge to shake her. The room was too quiet.
'What'd you do?' she finally asked and his jaw unclenched.
'Ignored her when she tried talking to me.'
She hummed and he felt it rather than heard it. 'It's not enough to warrant a slap. It's definitely not the worst thing you've done. I'm sure she'll live. It's not the end of her world if you don't focus your attention on her after all.'
'Now who's lying?'
'Be nice.'
It got quiet again. And his trainers needed cleaning. He'd have to give them a wash. Or a quick Scourgify like Mrs Potter had taught him and Jam-
James is missing.
The room pulsed around him. His vision blurred and a rushing sound filled his ears.
Evans' hand settled over his heart as she snuggled in closer. His shoulders slumped as he released a breath he'd unknowingly held. Pale eyes fluttered shut and opened just as quickly.
His body was flushing hot. Sweat peppered his brow as he struggled to regain control of his breathing.
All throughout, the witch in his arms said nothing and embarrassment flooded him because he knew that she knew. His cheeks burned.
'You really don't fancy her do you?' she asked him. Her voice soft and kind. Obliviator-like.
Sirius didn't answer her. He didn't really need to. Besides, he didn't fully trust his ability to speak right now.
'You're an arsehole Sirius.'
True. He had no defence for that.
'She thinks you'll come round you know?'
The Marauder groaned. 'Evans, can we not talk about this?
'I can start crying again?'
'I just don't feel that way about her,' Sirius explained, grimacing.
'She's in love with you.'
He'd suspected as much and guilt settled heavily on his chest. As kind and beautiful as she was, Marley never had had much sense when it came to him.
'She'll get over it.'
She would. She'd have to. It'd be for the best.
His love for Marley wasn't romantic and nothing would change that. Not now anyway, not anymore. If it hadn't happened when they were in school and constantly around each other, it wasn't going to happen now - when they barely spoke.
Silence. Again. He focused on the small and warm hand against his chest.
'Something hard is poking me in the thigh.'
'It's my dick.'
'No wonder it feels small.'
After insulting his giant manhood, the rude ginger took liberties upon his person. Reaching into his pocket she pulled out a Galleon.
Granger's Galleon.
Sirius stopped breathing. His eyebrows shot up and his hand twitched to snatch it back. He had to clench his fists and force his arms to stay passively around her because if he reacted, she'd get curious and a curious Lily Evans was never a good thing.
Evans turned the fake coin over in her hands, staring down at it. Pale eyes blinked and his insides squirmed every time the words Holy shit flashed before their eyes.
But she didn't seem to see them.
After several heart stopping seconds, she threw the fake Galleon back at him and it landed on his stomach with a thud. He didn't hesitate to snatch it back up.
'I'm tired.'
Sirius repositioned them, patting the empty space beside him and pulled her into his side when she lay down.
She started sniffing the second her head hit his chest. He said the first thing he could think of.
'Hey Evans? Wanna fuck?'
A snort and the pressure in his chest and throat lessened.
'Please,' he said, exaggerating the word. 'You're all over me. You know you want it.'
'I really don't.'
'You really do Evans. Look at me. Even your boyfriend screams my name during sex. Trust me. You want this. It'd be the best minute and a half of your life.'
She huffed a laugh, shaking her head and he felt himself smile in return.
'Only a minute and a half huh?'
He nodded. 'The best minute and half, yeah.'
'That's twice as long as James,' she said and he snorted. 'I'm impressed Sirius. And for the record, the only reason he yells out your name is cos you magic the doors open.'
Sirius shrugged. 'Or he wants me and you're in denial over his need for me. Lucky for you, I'm not gay and you're his girl Evans, so stop begging me for a shag. It's not happening. I mean, if you ask nicely it might but that's beside the point.'
'Right,' she yawned. 'Go on then. What's the point?'
'That you're tired. Sleep.'
She didn't reply and he suspected she'd fallen asleep.
He lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. Trying not to overthink and failing miserably.
James had only been gone one extra day and honestly, a day wasn't much. Really, it didn't mean anything. Shit happened and things didn't always go to plan.
That didn't help though. It might be true but it was still fucked up. The delay could easily imply caution or capture. Death or … worse.
Shit happened and things didn't always go to plan.
His hand hurt.
The animagus blinked, lifting his hand. He'd been holding the Galleon tight enough that it'd dug into his skin, marking him.
He frowned at the numbers imbedded into his palm. They didn't match up to the ones he remembered.
His coin had started with the numbers 311, like his birthday. This coin read, 106.
He'd handed her the wrong coin.
Sirius ran his thumb over the number. A slight vibration under his finger as his magic reacted to his will.
'Knock knock,' he murmured, the words shifting and changing upon his command.
He waited a moment before repeating the action.
Who's there? he imagined Granger saying.
'Boo.'
Boo who?
'Don't start fucking crying.'
He stared at the lettering for a long time afterwards, resisting the urge to fling it across the room. Reluctantly putting the coin back in his pocket and shutting his eyes, he fought the pull to get up and move.
Left alone with his thoughts, sleep didn't come easy. Logic fucked off and his racing mind made sure to turn on some fucked up and vivid scenarios.
His gut told him James was missing even as he refused to acknowledge it.
If he'd been killed, they'd know soon enough. If Dumbledore and Moody were discussing it, as he suspected they were, then a plan was in motion. If nothing else, they'd retrieve the body- James. They'd retrieve James.
Sirius slammed his eyes shut, willing the stinging sensation away.
If he'd been captured, he'd be in bad shape.
If they knew who he was, he would be taken to Voldemort and that'd be even worse.
A harsh whisper echoed through his brain then. It chilled every bone in his body.
James knows about Hermione.