Chapter 41: Pillow Talk

Ariadne grabbed the nearest bedpost of the scarlet-and-gold four-poster with one hand and a handful of bedsheet with the other as her body arched with pleasure. A volume of ancient rune lexicography she and Sirius (but mostly Ariadne) had been studying earlier tumbled to the floor in the flurry of movement. As her breathing gradually slowed, Sirius emerged from under the sheets, hair messy and disheveled, looking pleased. Based on the level of Ariadne's vocalizations, he was confident that she was, too. He flopped down on the bed next to her, running his sweaty fingers through his hair. Instead of getting up and dressing herself immediately, as she usually did, Ariadne (for reasons she couldn't explain, even to herself) rolled over to Sirius's side and laid her head on his chest. He instinctively circled an arm around her, as if it were only a natural response, and they laid there in silence, for once.

Ariadne listened to the steady rhythm of his heart, remembering when she heard it slow and then stop during their risky experiment with Draught of Living Death. Sirius seemed immersed in some memory or thought, as well. Ariadne was the most relaxed she had been in weeks. She almost felt herself drifting off, comfortable and warm in familiar arms. She shook herself lightly to stay awake.

"Why are you so afraid to let this happen?" murmured Sirius, gently rubbing his hand along a stretch of her bare waist.

Ariadne didn't even have to ask what he meant—they could anticipate each other's thoughts so easily. It was like they both knew where the other's mind was at. "Relationships don't just 'happen', Black. They require time and commitment."

Sirius sighed. "I know that, Ariadne "obsessively-plan-everything" Morrigan. But for us, it would be so easy."

Ariadne titled her head up to him to give him a penetrating look. "Explain."

Sirius seemed slightly surprised by her interrogative tone, but rose to the challenge as if he had just been asked an exam question. "First off, we already spend most of our time together and share the same interests."

"Such as?"

"You know—putting blood supremacists in their place, acing Arithmancy exams, defeating dark wizards," answered Sirius with a slightly wicked grin.

Ariadne raised an eyebrow but allowed him to continue.

"Second, we're different, and might, er, clash sometimes—" he glanced at her, "but we're actually incredibly similar in a few important ways. Determined, stubborn, clever, ambitious, brave to the point of recklessness." Ariadne opened her mouth to object but Sirius added, "You can't deny that, Ariadne. You and I would break every school rule and McGonagall's cold, hard heart if we knew it was the right thing to do."

"And lastly," Sirius paused for dramatic effect, "we're already quite good at shagging each other."

"You presume a lot."

"I don't need to. My presumption is based on—what was it you said back then, right before snogging me?—reality and not delusion," Sirius answered back with a smirk. "Anyway, are you not convinced? That was a logically rigorous treatise worth full marks from Vector. Us dating would be a breeze, Morrigan."

"I'm not interested, Black," said Ariadne flatly, now pulling away from the reach of his arm. "I've been convinced into something like this before, and it wasn't 'a breeze' at all."

Sirius's eyes deepened with intrigue. Ariadne could tell that he desperately wanted to know more, for Ariadne to let him in on this personal matter, to understand better her aversion to letting their friendship slide easily into something else.

"You said before you didn't have many previous paramours to shoot down," he said, less playfully and more gently.

"I didn't."

Ariadne watched the furrow between Sirius's brows intensify. "Then what happened, Ariadne?"

Ariadne sighed and shifted on his chest to get more comfortable, inadvertently causing their bare torsos to press even more tightly together, a sensation which she tried to ignore. "I don't have some deep, traumatic story from my past to reveal. I dated Herbert Kensington for a bit in sixth year, he was a git, and I decided that men are nowhere near worth the trouble."

"You dated Kensington? That skinny Ravenclaw who looked like he was perpetually swallowing bobotuber pus?"

"The very same."

"Well, it's no wonder you have such a rubbish opinion of Hogwarts boys."

Ariadne inclined her head in agreement. "I found out he was using me for answers to Arithmancy homework because he was afraid of flunking out before he could get his N.E. ."

Sirius snorted derisively. "I can assure you, you would never have that problem with me." He paused, and clarified, "Neither the copying off your answers, nor the fear of failing my N.E. ."

"Perhaps not. But I'm not taking any more chances. Boys are an unnecessary distraction, and frankly, I have more important things to do." She looked up at him again. "I'm sorry, Sirius."

Sirius gazed back into her eyes, his own intense and dark again. "Nothing to apologize for, Morrigan. I'm not entitled to your romantic interest, no matter how perfect we are for each other nor how great the sex we have." Ariadne waited for him to say something else about being in love with her, but he didn't. Instead, he sat up and began rummaging for his robes among the tangled sheets. Ariadne swore she head him muttering disdainfully under his breath, "Herbert Kensington..."