Sia hesitated.
She had been about to ask about Severus—his history with Sirius, his past, his place in all this—but before she could even finish the sentence, the shift in Sirius was immediate.
The casual normality he had displayed just moments ago vanished.
His face twisted into something sharper, something haughtier. That arrogant smirk was back, the same one she had seen him wear so often.
"Oh, Snivellus?" he sneered. "What's there to ask?"
Sia tensed.
That tone.
She knew it. It was the same condescending, mocking tone she had heard too many times from people who thought themselves above others.
Sirius folded his arms, leaning back against the stone railing like he was settling in for a long, entertaining rant.
"You do realize he's crawling straight into the Dark Lord's lap, don't you?" Sirius drawled. "Honestly, I'm shocked you don't know already, given how your house is so obsessed with keeping everything in the family."
Sia's jaw tightened.
Sirius didn't seem to notice—or care. He was enjoying this.
"He's been cozying up to the Death Eater families for years," Sirius continued. "Getting closer to them. Learning their magic. Dark magic. He adores it, you know. You should see his face when he talks about it. All wide-eyed and fanatic, like it's the greatest thing to ever happen to him." He scoffed. "Honestly, I think he's dying to get Voldemort's mark. Probably dreams about it."
Sia frowned.
"How do you know that?" she asked carefully.
Sirius barked a laugh. "Because he doesn't even bother hiding it!" he said. "Oh, I see things, Ashford. He skulks around with the likes of Mulciber and Avery. He practices the Dark Arts. He enjoys it. And you know the only kind of person who enjoys that kind of magic, don't you?"
Sia didn't answer.
Sirius leaned in, eyes gleaming.
"A psychopath," he murmured.
Something about the way he said it made her stomach twist.
"And you know what?" Sirius went on, his voice dangerously soft. "People like him deserve what's coming to them."
There was something visceral in the way he said it. Something deeply personal.
Sia watched him closely.
The mask had slipped.
He was furious.
But it wasn't just anger—it was hatred. Pure and unfiltered.
She suddenly understood why Remus had looked so uncomfortable earlier.
Sirius had a vendetta.
And it was ugly.
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Pity Dumbledore stopped me," he muttered. "I almost did the world a favor."
Sia's breath caught.
She looked at him sharply.
"What do you mean by that?"
Sirius froze.
For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—realization, maybe even regret.
But then—
A sound echoed from below.
Sirius straightened immediately, all traces of their conversation gone.
Sia turned sharply, heart pounding.
There were footsteps on the staircase.
A voice.
She and Sirius stiffened.
Sirius didn't hesitate. He yanked something from his pocket—a silvery fabric—and threw it over both of them in one swift motion, pressing a finger to his lips.
The air around them shimmered—then vanished.
Sia's breath hitched.
An Invisibility Cloak.
They watched as Filch entered the tower, lantern swinging. His beady eyes scanned the room.
For a moment, Sia was sure he would hear the pounding of her heart.
Filch frowned.
Muttered something about "that bloody Peeves."
Then, after one last glance around the room, he turned and left.
The moment the door clicked shut, Sirius let out a breath and yanked the cloak off them.
"That was close," he muttered.
Sia shot him a look. "You think?"
Sirius smirked. "Come on. I'll get you to the entrance hall. I'll go my own way and cause a little distraction so you don't get caught."
Sia hesitated.
She had a lot of things to say about their conversation.
But now wasn't the time.
She nodded.
Together, they slipped through the castle, moving quickly and quietly.
Sirius was good—annoyingly so. He knew the perfect routes, the hidden alcoves, the shortcuts. When they reached a corridor near the Grand Staircase, he grinned at her.
"Go," he whispered. "And don't get caught."
Sia didn't waste time.
She moved swiftly through the shadows, making her way back to the Slytherin common room, her heart hammering.
A sudden shout echoed behind her.
She turned just in time to see a flicker of movement—Sirius, definitely not under the cloak anymore, darting in the opposite direction as a pair of prefects chased after him.
Idiot.
But—
He did create a diversion.
Sia slipped through the corridors unnoticed, finally reaching the dungeon entrance.
She murmured the password, the wall slid open, and she stepped inside.
The common room was dim, the greenish glow of the lake casting eerie shadows.
She let out a slow breath, finally relaxing.
What the hell was that conversation?
Sirius' words echoed in her mind.
"Pity Dumbledore stopped me."
"I almost did the world a favor."
She didn't like what that implied.
At all.
She was still turning it over when—
"And where have you been lurking around so late?"
A deep, silky baritone cut through the quiet.
Sia froze.
A dark figure stood by the fireplace, arms crossed, watching her with cold, calculating eyes.
Severus.
Alone.