Author's note: Hello! So, some clarification: Ella picked Harry earlier than in the book, so the dementor's scene didn't happen. Since she is changing the timeline, I don't think it affects very much and there are other things happening in the Ella-Sirius-Harry family that'll make them bond.
1995
The dark-blond woman held in a sneeze as she walked down the dusty, old entrance corridor of 12, Grimmauld Place. Another session of Walburga's screaming was the last thing she needed right now. Her steps were slow and controlled as she guided Harry, who dragged his heavy trunk behind him. Tonks and Florence followed close behind, the pink-haired woman steadying herself on the walls with a concentrated look on her face. The boy looked around, analyzing the place as the woman did her best to step on the least creaky floorboards. Living there for the past six months had given her this kind of knowledge.
Unlike other parts of the house, this section remained untouched. The "renovations," as Florence called them, had started from the top and were progressing downward at a painfully slow pace. The house and its furniture seemed to resist every attempt at change—except when it came to her. Oddly enough, the house seemed ready to obey her and only her, even more than it did Sirius, its rightful owner. Even Kreacher begrudgingly followed her commands, though not without plenty of spite, hatred, and muttered "mudblood" curses. Ella liked to say it was simply because she saw the potential to make the place a home.
Of course, she knew that was a lie. One carefully crafted to make Sirius feel less disturbed by the house's strange behavior toward her. It was a way to soften the haunted look on his pale, still too-thin face, since the man closed up every time he witnessed one of these moments. Twelve years in Azkaban wouldn't be undone so easily—especially not with so little exposure to sunlight or happiness, given that he was still a fugitive.
At first, the situation was merely odd—a jar only she could move, wallpaper only she could peel, doors that only opened at her touch. Then, one day, Kreacher obeyed her. She hadn't even asked him directly. She had just spoken aloud to anyone who would listen: "Does anyone have scissors?" To her shock, the object was delivered into her hands by none other than the house-elf himself.
Surprised, she accepted it with a careful look, half-expecting Kreacher to either kill her or keel over on the spot. Instead, he looked about to explode—his face twisted, hands trembling violently. When she thanked him, he turned on his heel and bolted from the room, wailing, "I betrayed my mistress! I betrayed my mistress!"
Ella stood there, scissors in hand, completely stunned. Dora burst into laughter, but Ella caught the serious glance Remus gave Sirius—the kind that silently said, Well, fuck. Sirius, on the other hand, stared at her wide-eyed, his face even paler than usual. Their eyes met for a brief moment before he rubbed his face and left the room with a heavy sigh.
After that incident, Sirius ignored her for weeks. Confused and frustrated, she went to Remus for answers. He was so full of knowledge—he had to know something about Kreacher's behavior, right? And if not, surely he would at least know why Sirius was acting so strangely. But all McWerewolf did was drink tea, laugh awkwardly, and leave her even more confused.
"There's very little I know about this kind of old magic," Remus rambled nervously. "It's likely tied to pureblood traditions and rules—very specific ones. It might even be something unique to Walburga herself. It could be as ancient as the magic Lily used to protect Harry. The difference is that Lily wasn't aware of hers. I don't come from a pureblood family, so my knowledge is pretty limited."
Ella narrowed her eyes at him, and Remus shifted uncomfortably in his wooden kitchen chair. She took another sip of coffee and asked, "Does Sirius know what this is about?"
"I don't know. I don't think so," Remus lied, his voice wavering. As he spoke, a faint blush crept up his face, and he tugged at his shirt collar, swallowing hard.
At that moment, Nymphadora entered the kitchen, causing a commotion. Remus suddenly found himself torn between listening to the woman who was clearly in love with him (and whose feelings were obviously mutual) or continuing to be interrogated. Ella didn't give him a choice. As Dora went on about something related to work and the man stared at her flustered, Ella inhaled sharply and called him back coldly.
"Remus," she said, her voice sharp with hurt. "Is this why he's been ignoring me?", every word was pronounced slowly and intensely.
The older man sighed heavily—deep sighs had become a habit in this house lately - hands running through his face. "Ella, I'm sorry. I understand your frustration, I really do. But I don't know what to tell you because… I relate to his position." His eyes darted to Dora, filled with unspoken emotion.
At this point, the conversation stopped being about old magic and old houses, turning to unspoken feelings.
After six years working as a journalist, Ella had become an expert at reading people. There wasn't a single insincere nerve in Remus Lupin at that moment. However, his sincerity did nothing to ease her anger. She set her cup down with a loud clunk, running her fingers through her hair and pulling at it in frustration.
"I'm trying," she said, her voice rising. "I swear to God, I'm trying! I know he struggles with feelings. I know spending twelve years in Azkaban didn't help. I know he's full of childhood trauma, and being in this fucking house doesn't make it any better!" By now, she was yelling. "But I'm only human too!"
At the end of her outburst, Ella realised she was staring directly into Sirius's eyes, breathing heavily, her emerald-green orbs—an Evans family signature—brimming with tears. Silently, Sirius walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders.
"Do you understand why I have to stay away from you?" he asked, his voice grave and somber. "You just listed all the reasons why I should never have accepted your help. And now I'm hurting you—just like I hurt everyone else in my life."
Ella shook her head, tears slipping down her face, eyes looking everywhere but to his beautiful face. "Where's your recklessness when I need it?" she sobbed.
He gently brushed her tears away. "Don't cry—not because of me…"
Before he could finish, Ella grabbed his hand. "I would have helped you no matter what. I would never have left you in that situation. Ever! I don't regret it, and I'll never regret taking you out of that cave!"
"I was fine. I know how to take care of myself…", he said trying to detach himself from her grasp.
"Are you fucking kidding me? You were eating rats!" she shot back, turning around as their argument escalated. Neither noticed when Remus and Nymphadora quietly left the kitchen or when Florence peeked in but decided to go upstairs.
The shouting continued, their arguments mixing with Walburga's portrait own screams, as Ella tried to convince Sirius that he deserved to be cared for, while he insisted she was wasting her time on him. He called himself a "broken shell of a man" and warned her that "attaching herself to him would only bring her misery."
At first, all Ella felt was frustration at how little Sirius seemed to value himself. What was it with this generation and their terrible self-esteem? But then it hit her—he had just revealed his deepest feelings. Something he had probably kept bottled up for far too long. But by then, Ella felt exhausted.
It was far beyond midnight when she held his cheeks in her hands, her voice barely a whisper. "Why can't we make things easier, like when we were in Hogsmead? Why does it have to be hard, why does it have to ache?".
Sirius held her hands in place, took a deep breath out of her wrist, a place she used to spray her perfume, and took her hands out of his face. "Because Hogsmead was an illusion. We could pretend that nothing was wrong. But this is reality. I am a fugitive, and even if I wasn't, I come from a God awful family and brought nothing but disgrace to the lives of everyone I loved. The best thing you can do for yourself is stay away from me. You are young and whole, you have a long way to go", he held her hands down and Ella looked at their limbs.
After some silent moment, she asked, "Do you want me to leave? The house, that is?"
Sirius squeezed her hands tight. "You should. For your well-being. But, unfortunately, I am far too selfish to ask for that".
She let go of his grip, busting out of the kitchen and to the terrace of the house, where the cold air hit her face sobering her up. She lit up a cigarette and took a long drag.
—-
For Sirius's misfortune, Kreatcher and Walburga began whispering about Ella's control of Grimmald Place, to which she heard the following phrase:
"When I charmed the house, I never thought this would be the outcome! Such a thing as true love does not exist! People are not destined to be with somebody else! Purebloods are not destined to be with such dirty blood as this woman! [...]" and she went on and on about it while Kreatcher agreed and nodded relentlessly.
Ella started keeping every bit of information for herself, giving others limited access to her knowledge. So, she didn't share this occasion with anyone.
—-
She tries to control the flood of memories of the past couple of months that invade her mind, pushing them aside and focusing on her godson. Tired of being told what to do regarding her kid, Ella simply got in the car with Florence and Dora and picked the boy up—simply as that.
The Weasley had been staying in the house for Order purposes for the past couple of weeks, which gave her and Sirius little space to discuss… anything regarding their feelings, or the lack of them if it were his case. The place was more cheerful and loud, as was Sirius, although Ella felt more suffocated by the crowd and without much room to think with the noise.
As she looked behind herself, it downed on her how the fifteen-year-old looked angrier than in previous years. She understood, of course. All of the trauma of the past years was catching up to him, weighing even further with the death of a schoolmate as a consequence. So far, nobody had been too hurt by Voldemort attacks. But Cedric's death brought on them the reality of the impending war.
Now, Harry walked around with a frown on his face.
"This is Sirius family's house. It's supposed to be very protected. We've been fixing it", she whispered, trying to take him out of his thoughts.
"Why are we whispering?", he whispered back.
"That thing over there", she pointed "is his mother portrait. She was a pureblood to the core. The portrait is interactive, if we make too much noise she'll wake up and begin whaling. And she is a true… bitch, for all effects and purposes", Ella said carefully, regretting the curse in front of Harry, but not cursing Walburga.
"Don't talk like that about mommy-in-law, Ella", Dora joked and Harry looked at her confused.
"Shut up!", she whisper-shouted in return, pointing at the boy. Dora covered her mouth in an "Ops!" act.
They continued their way to the kitchen while Ella whispered some information about the house to Harry, until Tonks tripped. Harry was fast enough to get out of her way, leaving Ella to take the fall with her.
The dark-blonde felt the impact and instinctively gripped the portrait in front of her. Surprisingly, Walburga's portrait detached itself from the wall, and all three fell to the floor with a loud thud. Florence and Harry looked about to laugh. The woman, knowing more than the boy did, put her hand in front of her mouth.
"Oh my god, now big doggy will freak the fuck out," Flo whispered to no avail, as everybody heard. At that moment, Dora cracked a loud laugh, joined by Harry, who was amused at the nickname given to his godfather. Meanwhile, Walburga's portrait began wailing right at Ella's face. The Hufflepuff felt like just laying in there and till the ground swallowed her. Sirius, followed by Remus, Molly, and Arthur, arrived at the scene.
As the figure in the portrait realized what had happened—looking at her son upside down—she went weirdly quiet, leaving the room in silence once again. The heavy atmosphere was palpable. Sirius stared at the whole scene, his eyes ending on Ella, who stared back.
Realizing she was still on the ground, the woman said, "Dora, would you mind getting up?"
The girl, who had just been watching the interaction between her cousin and best friend, waiting to see who would give in first, was startled. Remus also moved to help her off the ground.
"Hi, Harry. I am glad you are here. Welcome home… I guess," Sirius said while helping Ella off the ground. Black took her wrist in a hurry, but delicately. "Are you okay?" he asked in a lower tone.
"Yeah, I am fine. Go see after him," her answer was also low. "I'll take your trunk to your room. We can see it together after you talk to your friends. Just tell me when you're ready," Ella said, taking his things.
Molly and Arthur shared a knowing look that didn't escape her as she left the room, taking what was left of the portrait with her. Sirius went to hug his godson, and Hermione, along with Ron, entered the space.
"This is the hallway that connects the house to three other floors—one with a living room, a library, a study, a guest bathroom, and things like that," Ella said, showing the teenager around.
"Mate, there used to be a bunch of house-elf heads on that wall!" Ron interrupted.
"Yes, and the floor and ceiling looked like they were about to crumble," Fred added.
"And it looks much prettier now. Ella changed the wallpaper, the chandelier, and she also…" George trailed off, looking at the blonde with heart eyes. She made a weird face at him.
"Can you three let Harry spend time with his godparents?" Hermione cut in. "Let them show him around! I bet he missed them."
"Always so smart, Hermione," Ella said, pulling her godson's arm and leading him upstairs.
"George, stop making those weird faces at my godmother!" the boy shouted halfway up the stairs.
"I'am a man in love! Don't judge me," the redhead's voice called from behind.
"You are a teenager, wanker!", Harry glanced back just in time to catch Sirius frowning and shaking his head in disapproval.
"Anyway," Ella continued, stretching the word, "as I was saying, this floor has shared rooms for communal use. And heeere… is the floor with private rooms." Instead of stopping on the first floor, they kept going up. "This is the twins' room, this is Remus's, this is Dora's—she's been spending a lot of time here. This is my room, right next to yours, and that is Sirius's," she said, pointing to a couple of doors in front of theirs. "I arranged it so we could be nearby, and if you need anything, you can just shout or something," she told him.
Harry laughed shyly. "Ella, I'm not five anymore. You don't have to do this."
"You'll always be five to me, no matter what," she said, rubbing his arm. "And you better get used to being taken care of," she added as they stepped into his room. "I put another bed in here so you could share the room with Ron for now. I know you two are attached at the hip, and this way, you can adjust better."
The room was well decorated, if somewhat basic—reminiscent of a hotel. Two walls were cream-colored, facing each other, while the other two were burgundy. It had a desk with a bookshelf beside it, two large single beds, and nightstands on each side. Oddly enough, there was a TV on the opposite wall.
"There's not much to it yet. You can decorate however you want. And that door leads to a closet for you to use," Ella said, watching him nervously for a reaction. "When you don't have friends over, we can make the bed bigger," she added.
"Wow, this looks amazing. It doesn't even feel like I'm just staying for the holidays," the boy said, looking around in awe. "Isn't this, like, an old pure-blood house? How did you make the TV work? How does it handle the magic?"
Sirius and Ella shared a knowing smile. "Well, I can be very resourceful," she said.
"As for your stay here, Ella is also handling that," Sirius added, hands in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, confused.
"I've started the paperwork to take over your guardianship from Petunia. That's what we were talking about while you packed. She and Vernon already signed the papers. By the end of the year, I'll probably be your only legal guardian," Ella explained.
Harry's eyes shone, his mouth slightly agape. "Really? I'll be living here? But Dumbledore said—"
Ella's expression darkened at the mention of the name. "Dumbledore says a lot of things that are very convenient for him. I also have a bit of your mother's blood—we were related, remember? Even though we weren't sisters, the protection still works. Besides, Grimmauld Place is highly secure, and you'll be living with me, Sirius, Remus, and probably Dora for a long time. You'll be safe."
"Are you sure? I don't want to put you at risk," Harry said, clearly trying to keep his hopes in check.
"Harry, we're the ones who should be worried about your safety. That's literally our job as your godparents," Sirius said, pulling the boy to his side. "Your godmother doesn't like the headmaster very much, so try not to bring him up often—unless you want to deal with her being pissed off," he added in a mock whisper.
Ella rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh at his theatrics. "I just think he prioritizes his own goals above all else, and I don't like that," she said, crossing her arms.
Harry laughed along with them but soon turned serious again. "Are you actually getting married?" he asked, looking hopeful. "I mean, I heard Tonks joke about it, and I thought…"
Ella and Sirius exchanged a startled glance before looking back at the teenager in shock. Well, he did warn them—he wasn't five anymore.
Though the real question seemed to be: Are you going to be my parents? Are we going to be a family?
Ella opened and closed her mouth several times before she managed to compose herself. Sirius recovered faster and answered, "That's not the plan… so far. But if anything changes, we'll let you know."
Harry's face fell slightly, his hands ruffling his hair, but he still looked happy.
"You must be hungry. I made chicken pie, and there's cake too. Why don't you go eat before Ronald finishes everything?" Ella said with a smile. "I brought you something. I'll give it to you after you eat," she added, holding him gently.
"No food, no gif?" Harry teased.
"I'm glad to see you remember the rules," she replied, kissing his cheek.
"Aren't you coming?" he asked.
"Oh no, I have to organize a few things for the Order meeting tomorrow," she answered.
"And I have to feed Buckbeak. But it'll be quick," Sirius added.
"We'll probably be down in an hour. Don't worry," Ella assured him with a forced smile.
"Fiiiine. See you later, then," the boy said, eyeing them suspiciously in the way only a fifteen-year-old could.
As soon as he walked out, Ella's smile dropped. She turned to Sirius."'That's not the plan so far?' Seriously, what the hell does that even mean?"
"Don't get all feisty. That was the best I could come up with! It's not like you said anything to help…" he retorted nonchalantly.
"I was surprised too!" she whisper-shouted, cutting him off.
"Besides, what I want to talk about this latter," he said, talking over her. "Dumbledore wants to discuss something too, tomorrow after the meeting." They stared at each other—him pointedly, her suspiciously.
She leaned against the wall, resting her head back with closed eyes, and let out a long sigh. Sirius watched her with concern. In more than a year, this was the most vulnerable she had looked. Right now, she could only be described as exhausted.
He knew she had been trying hard to make things easier for everyone else—him most of all—and it had taken a toll on her. Between everything with the Order and her demanding job at the newspaper, she was stretched thin.
That's why he did what he did next. Even though he didn't want to raise her hopes, Sirius kissed her forehead and lingered there for a moment, rubbing her shoulders gently.
He felt her relax. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. At the same moment, he hugged her back, resting his chin on top of her head.
The meeting wasn't going exactly as planned, to say the least.
By now, most people in the room had recoiled in their chairs as Sirius, Molly, and Ella argued over how much Harry was supposed to know. Dumbledore watched the scene with all the calm in the world. Ella, though not completely agreeing with either side, had the most frightening look—at least, if you asked Bill, Charlie, and Tonks. She had already tried to steer the discussion away from the topic, but as control slipped through her fingers, so did her self-restraint.
Florence rested her chin on her hand and whispered softly, "She is going to explode."
Remus rubbed his forehead, sighing heavily, just as the next words cut through the air.
"The thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?"
The entire room stopped breathing.
A very low "Goddamn it, Mum," was heard from the end of the table.
The Black heir swallowed hard, looking as if he'd been stabbed in the chest. Until…
A loud slam on the table made everyone turn to Ella. Her hands were shaking with anger, but her voice was loud, clear, and steady as she spoke:
"I will NOT have you speaking to Sirius like that. You SHALL NOT blame him for being imprisoned for a crime he DID NOT commit. He may be reckless, but he has done far more than you ever could for YOU AND YOUR CHILDREN to live in peace. And still, he paid for twelve years for a BETRAYAL THAT ALSO AFFLICTED HIM."
Molly stared back at Ella as the woman took a deep breath.
"I understand your position, Molly. But this matter is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. Unfortunately, we were denied the opportunity to care for our godson. But WE ARE HIS FAMILY. Therefore, we—Sirius and I—will make this decision. And that is final. You already have too many children to care for. Do not try to take ours."
A minute of silence followed before Dumbledore cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. The older man looked at Molly and gestured toward Ella and Sirius.
With some hesitation, Molly said, "I'm sorry, Sirius. I didn't mean to bring this up like that or to blame you."
Exhausted, Ella simply said, "If that's all we had to discuss, here are the sheets with each round's schedule. The meeting is over."
As she made to leave the room, most eyes followed her. Charlie and Bill argued with their parents. Dora, Florence, and Sara debated whether they should go after her. Remus watched Sirius, who, in turn, kept staring at the table. If one paid close attention, they could see the wheels in his mind turning. In his mind, the words "Do not try to take ours" rang repeatedly.
Ella Evans had never felt so tired in her entire life. Not even the months after Lily's death had been this exhausting, and those had been unbearable. As she reached the kitchen exit, she was surprised to see Harry coming down the stairs.
They stared at each other for a moment before the boy moved toward her.
For a second—irrationally—Ella thought he was going to scold her for fighting with Molly. But the boy couldn't have heard anything, could he? Then, she was taken aback by the tight hug he gave her. Slowly, she returned the embrace, her arms tightening around him with each passing second. His head rested on her shoulder, and she pressed a kiss to his temple before resting her cheek against it. She rubbed his back, yet, somehow, the feeling of security came to her.
Sirius watched the scene with a heavy heart. In moments like these, he found himself at a loss. Was staying away really the best choice? She had already done so much for him and asked for so little in return. She only asked to be loved back. And he already did. But this woman deserved so much more than he could offer.
"One of the greatest mistakes we make is assuming we know what someone else needs instead of listening to what they plead for," Dumbledore said.
Sirius considered the words, still watching Ella and Harry, until his mind drifted back to his earlier conversation with her in Harry's room. What would the old man say about her opinion of him?
"Ella is a Hufflepuff; she doesn't hate people. She might hate positions, strategies, decisions—but not people," Dumbledore answered the unspoken question. (Little did he know.)
"I know. She's too good for her own well-being sometimes," Sirius admitted.
"Perhaps she needs someone to protect her?" The older man gave Sirius a pointed look, to which he responded with feigned indifference.
"I think it's time for us to have that conversation," Dumbledore said, walking toward Ella. "Well, young man, even though it breaks my heart to interrupt such a beautiful moment, I have little time left, and I'd like to speak with your godmother."
Harry obeyed. Ella scowled.
His father's study no longer resembled what it once had.
The heavy royal curtains had been replaced with bright plastic blinds. The desk and bookshelves were now modern, Muggle-style furniture. The old chair had been swapped for a leather one with wheels—far more comfortable. And, of course, the wallpaper and flooring had been changed and cleaned, in that order.
No one could say Ella didn't have good taste.
The three of them stepped inside, and for a moment, an awkward silence fell as no one knew who should sit on the other side of the desk.
"You're the owner of the house, Sirius. It's your table and chair," Ella pointed out.
"I'd rather not sit at my father's desk at all," he muttered with clear disdain.
"Well, if you don't mind, I'd very much like to try this chair with wheels. They're always a fantastic experience to sit in," Dumbledore said, hands folded in front of him, peering over the rim of his glasses.
Sirius's face turned amused as he barely concealed a laugh at the older man's odd request—and at Ella's evident dismay. He gestured toward the chair.
"Vas-y, mon vieux," the Black heir said, resurrecting one of his family's few redeeming traits.
Ella's mouth went dry as something else did not. Shaking her head, she tried to banish the thoughts away.
Dumbledore sat down and rolled the chair back and forth a few times, testing it. Then, he spun in place—making both Ella and Sirius cover their mouths to stifle laughter—before beginning to speak.
"Well, it seems you both have made quite a home for yourselves here."
At that, their amusement sobered.
"That's the most subtle I've ever seen you, Dumbledore. No machinations or manipulations today?" Ella quipped, sarcasm laced in her tone.
The old man gave another spin before stopping to face them. Sirius covered his eyes, his hair falling slightly forward to mask his expression.
"I believe it would be in everyone's best interest if you both took the only logical step when two people love each other—especially since you intend to make this Harry's home. It would be extremely beneficial to him," the older man said.
Ella fumed while Sirius peeked through his fingers. A loud exhale left her nose, and Sirius grabbed her hand in a silent plea: Please, don't hit him. He's old.
"Oh my, so much to question here! Firstly, since when is my relationship with Sirius anyone's business? Secondly, since when is Harry's well-being your concern? You let him participate in that dreadful tournament—without my consent, by the way," Ella paced the room, voice rising. "You left him with Petunia instead of sending him to my parents. Did you know they made him eat burnt food there? This could have gone so wrong. You're really lucky he's a good kid."
"I know you disagree with many of my actions, Miss Evans. But I have always acted with the best of intentions. Besides, Sirius agrees with me on this matter. Don't you, Mr. Black?"
"No, he does not," she cut in, her voice suddenly thick with emotion. 'I can't believe I have a hundred years old grandpa trying to play matchmaker with me'.
Sirius took in a deep breath and got up from the chair. "Actually, I've been giving the matter a lot of thought lately". the man pronounced every syllable with care, as if to test the waters, waiting for her reaction. "I still think I am not the best option for you. You could do a lot better. But I understand that you and Harry could be a lot safer if you had my name," he said. "Of course, not literally—we wouldn't add 'Black' to your names since I am still on the run—but it would give you full access to the house, the vault, and decision-making regarding this place," he finished.
With each word, her heart sank further. The tears brimming in her eyes finally fell. Instinctively, she wiped them away and sniffled. "So it would all be a matter of practicality?"
Sirius got up from his chair and stood in front of her. "Maybe, this way I can protect the both of you. If there's anything I can do to make sure you're safe, so let me do it," he pleaded, gripping her arms, his eyes alight with determination.
She stared deep into his eyes for a moment. "No," her answer was short but filled with hurt.
Sirius's grip loosened as frustration slowly marred his face. "Ella, please." He looked into her eyes. "I thought you… I thought you wanted this."
"Wanted what? To be married for convenience? To get to your money? Or maybe to carry the pretentious Black name?", she listed bitterly, pulling her arms away. "Voldemort already took so much from us, and he will take even more. I can't let him take the possibility of being loved away from me".
Sirius swallowed and made to speak, but she cut him.
"Don't get me wrong", she looked him deep in the eyes once again. "Of course, I'd love to say yes. Because, of course, I love you so much. But that is the reason I want to marry—for love. Not for practicality. Not because you want to feel useful." Her hands caressed all the way from his neck to his chest as she spoke. "But because you want to spend the rest of your life with me, whether we die tomorrow or in fifty years." She smoothed the fabric of his shirt—one of those she had bought for him because he hated wearing his old clothes.
Sirius took a deep breath, hands covering hers and locking them in place. "Ella, have you figured out why you have control over the house and Kreacher?", he shook his head for a moment. "I mean, I know you must have put some pieces together because you're that smart. But the fact is, after my brother died, my mother realised another branch of the family would inherit the house since I was unlikely to ever leave Azkaban. She wanted to keep the house as she left it, so she cast a spell ensuring that only the true next 'Mrs. Black' would be obeyed. And apparently, the magic was so powerful that the house recognized you immediately."
More tears slipped down her face, and she turned away, pressing her lips into a thin line. "How long have you known this?" she asked.
"Since Kreacher obeyed you."
"That was almost two months ago. You kept it from me. And now you want me to marry a man who hides things from me?" she spat.
"I thought there was salvation. I thought that if I kept my distance, our feelings would vanish, fade away. Obviously, I was in denial," he admitted.
Ella clenched his jacket, pressing her face into his neck, inhaling his scent in an attempt to calm herself. After a shaky breath, she said: "Holy fuck, I really love you".
"I know you do", Sirius's hands dived into her hair, caressing the strands. "No one else would put up with half of what you do for me. And I really wish I could be better for you—give you everything you need, want, and deserve. But unfortunately, you fell for a rather dubious man."
She swatted him in the chest, head in his shoulder and nose glued to his neck. "Sirius, you are not dubious. You are brave—sometimes foolishly brave, yes—but still brave. I know you'd face anything for me. You are loyal.", the man felt her breath in his neck and got goosebumps. She continued. "You spent all those years in prison because you thought you deserved it when you could have left years earlier. And you love so deeply that I can hardly explain it. So don't try to sell me this dubious bullshit. I won't buy it."
They stared at each other for a moment. His hands slid from her hair, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. Their faces moved closer, inch by inch, until their foreheads touched, noses brushing. Ella slipped an arm around his back while her other hand rested on his neck. And finally—finally—their lips met.
At first, they tested the waters, moving gently. But then their emotions took over, deepening the kiss as his tongue gained entry, though their pace remained slow.
More than twenty minutes passed before they realized they had entered the room with an elderly house-elf. "Thank Merlin, he always knows when to leave," Sirius muttered, and they laughed.
"Is this a yes?" he asked, his lips brushing against hers, leaving soft, lingering pecks.
Ella gave him a sly smile—the first in months. He had missed those. They reminded him of sunflowers.
"I'll only answer after I see your full performance," she teased, pushing him toward the table.
Author's note II: Leave your thought's on the chapter. We can also chat on tumblr: brightparchment