Blackinnon Micros

@blackinnonmicros

word count 428

The roar of the motorcycle blended with the wind that sliced through the road. Sirius gripped the handlebars firmly, his eyes shining with that spark of freedom that always accompanied him. Marlene, behind him, held tightly onto his waist, her blonde hair tousled by the speed, her laughter escaping like a wild song that faded into the horizon.

The journey had begun without a map, driven only by the certainty that they needed to escape. The mountains rose in the distance, and every curve was a moment of adventure. Sirius turned his head just enough to see Marlene’s smile reflected in the mirror. “Ready to get lost with me?” he shouted over the roar of the engine. She responded with a fleeting kiss on the cheek, a gesture worth more than any words.

The highway stretched out like an endless road. At a forgotten gas station, Marlene got off the motorcycle and stretched her legs, laughing. “This is crazy,” she said, but her eyes sparkled with that gleam that only appeared when she was with him. Sirius lit a cigarette and offered her one, even though he knew she never accepted. “Madness is all we have left,” he replied, and she kissed him with the intensity of someone who knows the world might end tomorrow.

The sun began to set, painting the sky with stars. The road grew more desolate, and the air smelled of earth. Sirius stepped on the gas, seeking that sensation of flying. Marlene rested her head against his back, closing her eyes, trusting that he would take her anywhere far away from the war. In that moment, there were no wars or broken promises, just two hearts beating in unison.

They stopped at a makeshift overlook, where the road opened up to an endless valley. Marlene got out first, spreading her arms as if she could embrace the whole world. Sirius watched her, with that mix of tenderness and desire that always disarmed him. “We could stay here forever,” she murmured, and he, without thinking, replied, “Forever is too short if it’s with you.”

road trip @blackinnonmicros

Twilight slowly enveloped the highway stretching across the Wiltshire hills. The air, thick and warm, was saturated with the aroma of thyme and the pungent scent of pine resin, as if someone had spread a huge, sun-warmed sheet over the road. Sirius's old Mustang — his constant pride — purred softly around the bends, avoiding bumps, while the radio played the blues: a powerful-voiced singer lamented about love, and her high notes made you want to pity the whole world.

Marlene sat in the passenger seat, barefoot, with her legs tucked under her, wearing short denim shorts. Her long blonde hair was tossed across her shoulders, caught by the airflow from the open window. With one hand, she held a paper cup of coffee that had long gone cold; with the other, she kept twirling her heart-shaped red sunglasses.

"Are you sure we're not lost?" she asked, not turning her head, watching how the headlights of oncoming cars turned into glowing threads. "Because the last sign promised Brighton in forty miles, and this one promises Brighton in fifty. Arithmetic is clearly not on our side."

Sirius smirked, not taking his eyes off the road, but his right hand — warm and calloused from flying on a broom and forever battling a faulty carburetor — slid from the steering wheel and rested on her knee.

"Baby," he drawled, slightly stretching the vowels, making his voice low and insinuating, just before the climax of a jazz solo, "we're not going to Brighton. We're going to where this gas, this road, and our luck run out. It's called romance, McKinnon. Have you forgotten?"

Marlene shook her head, not at all surprised by Black's answer. She was too happy to snipe and argue. Marlene turned her whole body towards him, pressing her back against the door, to get a better look at his profile: his aristocratic nose, the sharp line of his jaw, the gaze of his gray eyes fixed on infinity.

Meanwhile, the twilight deepened into a rich purple hue, and Sirius checked his old map, bought from Muggles, which he inexplicably trusted more than any prophecy. Marlene couldn't help but smile at her thoughts. These spontaneous road trips were truly the best thing they had: no orders from the Auror Office, no stuffy meetings at headquarters, no endless briefings. Just the steady hum of the engine, the intoxicating scent of meadow grasses mixed with the bitter smoke of cheap tobacco, and this vast, wide-open summer — measurable only by the miles traveled, counted by the trees flashing past the window.

Suddenly, Sirius sharply turned onto a narrow dirt road. Gravel crunched loudly under the tires, and a moment later, the engine fell silent. They had stopped in the middle of a vast, empty field. In the gathering twilight, only the dark silhouettes of haystacks and the pale, almost ghostly, but already beginning to glow with warm golden light, solitary moon were visible.

Silence enveloped them from all sides. It always happened after long hours on the road, when the engine noise suddenly ceases and the world stands still. Then Sirius slowly turned to her, using non-verbal magic to levitate the coffee cup into the back seat. His gaze lingered on her lips for a moment, desire flaring up in his eyes, mixed with excitement.

Sirius hungrily pressed his lips to Marlene's, drawing her into a passionate game on their own terms, simultaneously savoring the moment, wanting to remember it forever. He desperately wanted to believe that they had not just one summer ahead of them, but an eternity, as if the road stretching out behind them had decided to stop and give their stubborn hearts infinity.

"And now," he whispered, pulling back, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight with that dangerous, boyish spark that had once made her fall in love irrevocably and forever, "choose, darling: either we drive back, or I get the blanket from the trunk, and we watch the first stars light up in the sky."

Marlene bit her lip. Her gaze slid over Sirius's hand, already reaching for the ignition key, lingering on his fingers, on the barely visible scars, then rising again to his familiar gray eyes. A nearly childlike joy spread through her chest at the realization that this was the most perfect moment possible. Marlene answered completely seriously, and Sirius's heart warmed at her words:

"Black, are you even asking? Of course we're staying here!"

He smiled widely. Sirius knew Marlene would answer exactly that, but his heart still swelled with joy. He deftly got out of the car, pulled out a worn blanket, and quickly spread it on the grass.

lake @blackinnonmicros

The dark, mirror-like surface of the lake, in which the tops of ancient oaks were reflected as if in a giant magical mirror, clearly approved of their spontaneous decision to come here. Even nature itself seemed to have relaxed: dragonflies hovered in the air as if contemplating an unscheduled vacation, and a lazy breeze shuffled the leaves overhead.

Marlene lay on her back in a huge inflatable ring the color of overripe fuchsia. It made her look like an exotic bud, accidentally washed ashore in the English countryside. She slowly kicked her legs in the cool water, feeling the weightless touches of the current tickling her skin, while her face, tilted toward the sun, was caressed by warm rays. The summer heat was still palpable; the air smelled of warm grass and a hint of mud, and somewhere in the distance came the occasional splash — whether from a fish or someone's invisible hand touching the water's surface.

Sirius swam nearby, about ten meters away, without any ring. He paddled vigorously with his paws, snorted like a dog, and spat out duckweed — it clung stickily to his snout, getting in his mouth and eyes. He shook his head, exhaled noisily, and surged forward again, cutting through the water. Spray flew in all directions, sunlit droplets sparkling in the air, and he just kept swimming, as if racing against himself. Until he got bored and resumed his human form.

"McKinnon, that's not fair!" Sirius shouted, swimming closer and grabbing the edge of her inflatable ring. The ring tilted dangerously, and Marlene, shrieking, clung to the sides, nearly tumbling into the water. "We've been on the lake for two hours, and you're still dry! This violates the code of aquatic procedures!"

She opened one eye, gave him a mocking look from beneath the fringe created by unruly strands and a gust of wind, and slowly, deliberately licked her dry lips, still tasting of strawberry lip balm.

"Darling, I'm just enjoying life, alright?" Marlene shook her head, suppressing a smile. "Unlike you, I don't need to race the trout to prove to the lake what a great swimmer I am."

She pointed towards his tousled mop of hair: "By the way, you've got…" Marlene giggled, covering her mouth with her hand, "a piece of seaweed. Right on top of your head. Looks… original. Very sexy, really. Totally your style."

Sirius sighed, paused as if assessing the moment, and then, grabbing the edges of the ring with both hands, flipped the inflatable contraption with one powerful heave. Marlene, before she could process what was happening, landed in the water with a loud splash, accompanying her fall with an indignant cry:

"Black, you bastard!"

"Much better!" he cheerfully retorted, pulling her by the waist so that her wet, lace-trimmed body pressed against his water-slicked chest, and Marlene felt his fingers dig into her hips, holding her in place.

She punched him in the shoulder in response, trying to escape the trap, and said, looking directly into those mocking gray eyes:

"You're just insane. My ring floated away. And besides, I think I stepped on a frog because of you."

Sirius laughed loudly and, still not letting go of Marlene, carefully backed toward the shore. In the distance, on a spread-out blanket in the grass, rolled-up towels and a bottle of wine, forgotten by everyone an hour ago, were visible. But halfway there, his foot snagged on a submerged branch. He lost his balance — and with a short exclamation, they both crashed into the lake, sending up a fountain of spray. Splashing and roaring with laughter, they briefly became a tangle of arms and legs.

Marlene surfaced first, pushing wet strands from her face. She struggled onto the shore and collapsed onto the warm sand, breathless. Sirius surfaced next and flopped down beside her, still laughing. Then he loomed over her; droplets from his hair fell onto her stomach, leaving cool trails on her heated skin. Sirius leaned down even lower, his breath touching Marlene's neck before he traced his nose along it and whispered:

"The frog will forgive your clumsiness, don't worry."

"You'd better worry about whether I'll forgive you," she said slyly.

drizzing @blackinnonmicros

The London sky over Soho changed its colors in an instant. The azure hue that had been caressing the eyes moments before gave way to a heavy gray darkness, and the rain did not keep them waiting. It began in a characteristically English, restrained manner, with a barely perceptible hint. First, one drop fell on Marlene's eyelashes, making her flinch involuntarily. Then a second — on her lips. But she didn't notice the third, for the world around them was filled with a drizzle permeated by the freshness that always appears at such moments.

Sirius walked beside her, his hands carelessly shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket. He glanced at Marlene with that same indescribable blend of adoration and light, almost cat-like mockery — the look he usually gave just before coming out with something unbearably witty. But this time, the natural elements beat him to it: several drops hit his face before he could open his mouth.

Marlene laughed out loud. She was amused by this instant capitulation to the rain — Black's disgruntled expression, his slightly furrowed brows, and the droplets streaming down his cheekbones. She threw her head back, tossing her thick curly hair behind her, and allowed the rain to touch her neck. The drops trickled along her skin, rolling down inside the collar of her light linen shirt.

"Great," Sirius said with feigned resignation, vigorously shaking out his hair, which had instantly turned into wet, hanging strands. He snorted, wiping drops from his face. "Just perfect. We didn't bring an umbrella, and we can't use magic against the rain — there are Muggles everywhere."

Marlene laughed and took his arm, pressing her shoulder tightly against his cool jacket. Mischievous sparks danced in her eyes, and her lips curved into a playful smile. All of Sirius's gloomy thoughts instantly vanished.

"Come on," she brushed it off lightly, tilting her head slightly towards his shoulder. "Rain is romantic. At least, that's what it says in those books I secretly read under the blanket while you're snoring."

They turned into a quiet alleyway, where under the awning of a tiny, already closed coffee shop there was just enough space for them to stand close together. The drops drummed on the tin canopy above their heads, beating out an uneven tap dance. Sometimes they would quiet down, then pick up again, like an orchestra rehearsing before a performance.

"Snoring?" Sirius repeated. His lips were almost touching her ear, and his hot breath sent goosebumps racing across Marlene's skin, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. "I don't sleep at all. I lie there and listen to all your commentary. By the way, did you know you talk in your sleep? I once heard you mumbling spells for making perfect pancakes, McKinnon."

Marlene wanted to flick him on the nose for such blatant lying, but Sirius outplayed her. He gently pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth. At such a light, almost weightless touch, a hot wave ran down her spine. And suddenly, all her usual desire to respond with a joke, to parry, to hold the defensive line melted away like sugar in hot tea. Instead, Marlene simply pressed her cheek to Sirius's chest, listening to the deep, steady beat of his heart. She allowed the slight shiver to finally run through her body as he wrapped his arms around her.

The rain drizzled on, drops falling from the cornice and rolling down inside her collar, sending small chills through her. London around them hummed softly, wrapped in the gray cotton of rising fog. Sirius cupped her face in his palms. He lifted her chin slightly, looked into her eyes, and then kissed her for real. The kiss was deep, greedy, yet surprisingly gentle. Sirius insistently ran his tongue over her lips, entering her mouth, and Marlene couldn't hold back a moan. They stood like that, forgetting about time, until Black bit her lower lip and pulled away.

"You're all wet, McKinnon," Sirius hinted suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows expressively and smirking mischievously.

Marlene snorted, giving him a disapproving look. She wanted to feel his lips on hers again. And Black was acting like an impudent poodle, stopping their kiss so shamelessly!

"And you, Black, are just a coward," she retorted, waving her hand with theatrical drama, "since you didn't suggest going home and warming me up. Because I'm cold as a troll in the Arctic."

He laughed, grabbed her hand, and they ran through the fine watery mist, oblivious to the path — two mad people for whom no rain was an obstacle. Their boots splashed through puddles, drops hit their faces, but they only laughed louder, shouting over the roar of the downpour. Marlene slipped on the wet asphalt, but Sirius immediately caught her by the waist, preventing her from falling, and they dashed forward again, not slowing their pace.

@blackinnonmicros

word count 546

The night was cool, and the lake seemed to be with them. The moon was reflected on the water’s surface. Marlene walked barefoot through the wet grass, while Sirius followed her with sure steps, his eyes full of desire and lust.

“Everything feels so peaceful here,” she whispered, gazing at the water that seemed endless.

“No one is watching us here,” he replied, drawing closer until his warmth enveloped her.

The kiss was immediate, a clash of lips that turned into hunger. Marlene met it with a brief moan, her hands clutching his shirt, pulling at it urgently. Sirius held her tightly, his fingers tracing her back down to the curve of her waist, marking invisible territories.

The damp grass became their makeshift bed. Their clothes vanished amid moans and frantic movements, each garment torn away as if it weighed too heavily between them. Marlene’s skin glowed in the moonlight, and Sirius traced it with fiery kisses, moving down her neck, her chest, until he lost himself in the heat of her body.

The murmur of the water set the rhythm of their bodies, an inevitable ebb and flow that dragged them toward a shared abyss.

Marlene arched her back, her fingers digging into Sirius’s shoulders, while he sought her out with a force that was pure devotion and defiance. Every movement was a wave crashing, every moan a flash of lightning illuminating the night. The grass clung to their skin, the dampness mingling with sweat, and the world was reduced to gasps and caresses.

The rhythm quickened, a crescendo that carried them to the edge of the abyss. Marlene screamed his name, her voice breaking into a moan that mingled with the roar of the water. Sirius held her tight, his lips devouring hers, as the climax swept them away like a storm: vast, impossible, impossible to contain.

They lay there, trembling, the grass clinging to their naked bodies, the lake spread out like an infinite mirror. Both of their breaths came in disordered gasps, and silence enveloped them once more, as if the world had decided to preserve their moment.

Marlene rested her head on Sirius’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. “We’re like water,” she whispered. “We always find our way back to each other.”

Sirius kissed her on the forehead, with a tenderness that contrasted with the ferocity of what they had just experienced. “And I always want to come back to you,” he replied, sealing the promise with another, gentler kiss.

After that, Sirius took Marlene’s hand and led her toward the water. The surface of the lake was cold, but the excitement still burned in their bodies. They submerged together, letting the moon cover them in silvery glints. The water touched their bare skin, intensifying every touch, every caress.

There, in the middle of the lake, they sought each other out again. Their lips met beneath the reflection of the stars, a wet, deep kiss that mingled the coolness of the water with the fire of passion. The lake enveloped them, becoming an accomplice to their union, while they remained embraced, kissing as if the whole world had vanished.

@blackinnonmicros

word count 567

The square was nearly deserted, shrouded in a drizzle that fell like a thin veil over the ground. The streetlights cast a golden glow on the puddles forming between the cobblestones, and the air smelled of dampness. Sirius walked with his hands in his pockets, his coat soaked, and his hair plastered to his forehead. There, in the middle of the square, Marlene was waiting for him.

She was standing next to a dry fountain, her hair damp and her eyes shining like stars. The drizzle covered her, and Sirius thought he had never seen anything so beautiful. He approached her, and without saying a word, took her hand. Marlene looked at him with that mixture of surprise and tenderness that always disarmed him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, though there was a suppressed laugh in her voice.

“What I always do when the world seems to be falling apart,” he replied, bowing with a theatrical gesture. “Wanting to dance with you.”

There was no music, but the rain was enough. Sirius drew her toward the center of the square, and they began to move. Their footsteps echoed on the wet cobblestones, and every turn sent up flashes of water that looked like liquid stars. The drizzle fell steadily, lightly, enveloping them in a moment that isolated them from the rest of the universe.

Marlene rested her head on his shoulder, and together they followed an invisible rhythm. The echo of their laughter mingled with the murmur of the rain, and the square was transformed into a stage. Sirius held her firmly, as if he feared the world might snatch that moment away from him.

She let herself go, trusting that her feet would find the perfect rhythm.

“Do you know what I think every time we dance in the rain?” Marlene whispered.

“That I’m terrible at keeping the beat,” he joked, though his eyes burned with tenderness.

She laughed, but then grew serious.

“I think we’re defying fate. As if every step were a way of telling the world that we won’t give up.

Sirius looked at her, and in that instant he understood that there was no greater battle than that: resisting time, war, and pain, with a simple dance in the drizzle. He kissed her, first gently, then urgently, as if he wanted to etch that moment into eternity. The kiss was wet, salty, full of promises that needed no words.

The square vibrated with the echo of their footsteps, and the lights of the streetlamps seemed like constellations suspended above them. The drizzle kept falling, light but steady, enveloping them in a protective blanket. They danced until their legs ached, until laughter turned to sighs, until the world ceased to exist. And when they finally stopped, still embraced, Sirius murmured:

“If I ever get lost, promise me you’ll remember this moment in the rain.”

Marlene looked at him, tears mingling with the raindrops on her cheeks.

“I won’t need to look for you. You’ll always be here,” she replied, placing her hand over her heart.

concert @blackinnonmicros

Wembley Arena was steeped in reverent silence and expectant anticipation. The crowd had become a single living beast — huge, breathing, pulsating in a single rhythm. Each person was merely a tiny cell of this colossal organism. The source of the collective frenzy was the stage, where four figures emerged from clouds of purple smoke. The quartet needed only one simple gesture to make two and a half thousand people simultaneously hold their breath — and then exhale in absolute unison.

Sirius gripped the barrier to keep from being swept away by this overwhelming force. Marlene pressed her whole body against his back, feeling the vibrations of the drums go straight to her heart. Roger Taylor set the rhythm, his beats precise, hypnotic. And when Brian May cut through the air with the first note of "Killer Queen," Marlene closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the guitar solo to become a portal — through which Muggle music seemed to break the fourth wall of their reality. This sound was purer than any spell, piercing right through, making her forget everything.

Sirius turned around, pressing his lips to her temple with a mixture of gentleness and urgency. He had to whisper directly into her ear:

"How cool is it that we got tickets!"

His voice was drowned out by another explosion of applause: Freddie Mercury ran to the edge of the stage and sharply raised his microphone stand, as if about to pierce the sky itself. Meanwhile, John Deacon spared no mercy on his guitar — his fingers flew across the strings, drawing out powerful, rich chords that fired up every spectator, making them sing along to Freddie and bop cheerfully.

"Yes!" Marlene shouted, drowning out the roar of the crowd.

The intro to "Don't Stop Me Now" hit their nerves — and at that same moment, she felt Sirius's palm slide across her lower back. She immediately squeezed his fingers in return. The semi-darkness pulsed around them: the breath of the crowd, the smell of sweat, a wave of freedom washing over them completely. Here and now, they were simply a boy and a girl who shouldn't have to worry about the impending threat from the Death Eaters. Their only concerns were the music, the shared rhythm, and the legendary hits for which they were ready to stay here forever.

Sirius abruptly turned to Marlene, grabbed her chin, and kissed her — right in the middle of a guitar riff. The kiss was greedy, passionate, as if he wanted to pour all his pent-up excitement into it. Approving shouts around them dissolved in the roar of the music, and when he pulled back, she froze: in his eyes, like two mirrors, reflected the colorful lasers from the stage. They transformed the gray abyss of his pupils into a festive, mesmerizing firework.

"I want to remember this evening forever," Marlene confessed, and Sirius smiled his trademark wide smile, which brought barely perceptible wrinkles to the corners of his eyes.

"Then hold on tight, Marls," he placed her palm over his heart, "because 'Bohemian Rhapsody' is next. And I promise you, this won't be our last concert."

@blackinnonmicros

word count 262

The concert burst with lights and guitars, a sea of bodies jumping to the beat of the drums. Sirius, his jacket open and his hair tousled, pushed his way through the crowd, searching for a fixed point amid the chaos. And then he saw her: Marlene, dancing as if the music had taken hold of her, her eyes closed, her hair illuminated by flashes of red and gold.

She didn’t need a stage; every movement was a spell, every turn a challenge. Sirius stood motionless for a few seconds, mesmerized, as if all the noise had faded away and only the pulse of her laughter remained, the sway of her body.

The bass roared louder, and he couldn’t resist: he stepped forward until he reached her. Marlene looked at him, surprised, but didn’t stop; she kept dancing, and Sirius let himself be swept up by her rhythm. The crowd jostled them, but they stayed close, as if the music had woven an invisible circle around them.

When the song reached its climax, Marlene leaned toward him, breathless, her smile alight. Sirius took her by the waist, and amid the din, he kissed her. It was a brief but passionate kiss, a secret chord that eclipsed all the others.

@blackinnonmicros father's day

The morning began with delicious aromas that filled the entire kitchen. The pungent scent of cinnamon intertwined with the rich smell of freshly brewed coffee, which in turn was rivaled by the aroma of homemade pastries. Sunlight, persistent like guests who had finally realized they were truly welcome, streamed through the tall, narrow kitchen windows. It slid across the ancient stonework of the walls, gilded the carved wooden panels, and played with highlights on the polished copper pots hanging above the stove.

Marlene stood by the massive cast-iron stove, gently stirring oatmeal in an enamel pot. Her movements were measured; sometimes she would dance a little, quietly humming one of her favorite songs. All the while, she was diligently pretending not to notice anything, but out of the corner of her eye, she had been watching two small silhouettes in the living room for half an hour.

Cassiopeia was only seven years old. Her blonde curls, just like her mother's, softly framed her face, and her gray, attentive eyes, inherited from her father, looked focused and businesslike. She directed the process with almost adult responsibility: carefully measuring the length of the ribbon on the gift box, smoothing every curve of the satin ribbon with her fingers, and furrowing her brow if something seemed less than perfect. In those moments, she reminded Marlene of Sirius when he was assembling his first motorcycle.

Nearby, on the soft, plush rug by the fireplace, little Alphard sat — he had just turned five. He was intently gluing bright stars, cut from colored paper, onto a homemade card. The little boy carefully applied glue, aligned the shapes, checking that the edges were straight. From time to time, he would stick out the tip of his tongue in concentration, freeze for a moment, critically examine the result, and then, with an important air, add another star — a little higher, then to the left, striving for a perfection only he understood.

"Just don't make any noise," Cassiopeia whispered to her brother, pressing a finger to her lips. She frowned so amusingly, pursing her lips and tilting her head slightly, that Marlene barely stifled a smile. "Dad's still asleep. We have to finish decorating everything nicely before he comes down."

Alphard nodded quickly, and his dark fringe fell over his eyes. He took more after the Black side: thick black hair, a slender nose, and a certain profile — this always evoked a particular tenderness in Sirius. And he usually preferred not to display his soft side. Sirius could frown sternly at strangers, make cutting jokes among friends, but the moment he saw little Alphard, his expression would instantly warm.

The card, which the children had been working on for three Sundays in a row (Marlene suspected that the first version had simply been drowned in ink by Alphard, and the second had been accidentally torn by both of them while trying to out-argue each other), looked truly magical. It depicted a large motorcycle in rich brown and black tones, and behind the handlebars — a man in a leather jacket, bearing a strong resemblance to their father.

Around him were splashes of colorful paint — blue, red, gold droplets, as if frozen mid-flight. And in the bottom right corner was a sticker in the shape of a dog's paw print: apparently Alphard's personal idea — a nod to their family joke about Dad sometimes acting like a faithful dog guarding his home, and also a reference to Black's Animagus form.

"All done," Cassiopeia exhaled, placing the box on the coffee table and leaning the card against it. "Now we wait."

Marlene moved the pot to the edge of the stove, carefully took off her apron, and, after a brief hesitation, quietly clicked the Collograph. The shot turned out beautifully: two children pressed together, their impatient, radiant faces frozen in anticipation of their beloved father, staring intently at the stairs.

Marlene deftly took another shot when hurried footsteps were heard from above. Sirius came downstairs in pajama pants with a faded pattern, still a bit sleepy, with disheveled hair and light stubble. He slowly ran a hand over his face, trying to wake up fully, and automatically reached for the cup of cooling coffee sitting on the table.

But his movement stopped halfway. His gaze swept over the "altar" — the small table by the fireplace that the children had transformed into a ceremonial display: the card with the motorcycle, the box with the ribbon, several children's drawings, and a couple of Chocolate Frogs.

From the pleasant surprise, his eyebrows immediately rose, and his gray eyes filled with such warm, deep tenderness that Marlene herself almost teared up with emotion. Sirius smirked, still standing silently, processing the surprise he saw, and then, in a slightly hoarse voice, with an unusual softness, he said:

"What's this?"

Sirius crouched down in front of the children. Cassiopeia, with an air of deliberate solemnity, handed him the card, her fingers trembling slightly with excitement. Alphard, unable to contain the tension any longer, threw his arms around his father's neck with a joyful cry:

"Happy Father's Day, Daddy!"

Sirius quickly hugged his son to his chest with one arm and gently pulled his daughter close with the other. He buried his face in their hair — in Cassiopeia's soft blonde curls and Alphard's dark fringe. His shoulders trembled slightly, and Marlene understood: he was trying to hold back the emotions that had suddenly surged with unexpected force.

@blackinnonmicros 125 words

The midday sun beat down on the sand. Sirius showed up wearing a ridiculously flashy swimsuit covered in silver stars, while Marlene, on the other hand, wore a simple, deep blue one that seemed to reflect the sea.

“Did you really think that outfit was a good idea?” she asked, laughing, as he struck exaggerated poses as if he were on a runway.

He stepped closer, still wearing that cheeky smile, and replied, “Of course—that way I can make sure you don’t look at anyone else and only have eyes for me.”

@blackinnonmicros word count 169

Father’s Day dawned with a strange feeling for Sirius. He had never thought of himself as a father, but in the silence of the McKinnon house, he found a clumsy drawing full of stars and dogs, made by the little daughter he shared with Marlene Lyra.

“Is this… for me?” he asked, with that mix of disbelief and tenderness he rarely showed.

Lyra nodded enthusiastically, and Marlene, from the doorway, looked at him with a gentle smile. There was something about that moment that disarmed him: the certainty that, despite everything he had lost in the war, here was an entire universe claiming him as its own.

Sirius held up the drawing as if it were a banner and, his voice breaking, said:

“Then… I suppose today I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

bathing suit @blackinnonmicros

Summer ambled slowly through its long, warm days, enveloping the world in a sleepy, serene languor. Sirius, having finished a couple of letters to friends and bored out of his mind, decided to take refuge in his old bedroom on the second floor, to indulge in a bit of nostalgia for the times when his beloved uncle Alphard was still alive. He still found it strange to realize that he was now the owner of such a large mansion. However, these thoughts were quickly interrupted. Sirius froze on the threshold, stunned by the scene before him: the bed was practically buried under a mountain of swimsuits, which shimmered in every color of the rainbow and were scattered in complete disarray.

In the midst of this colorful chaos, amidst the silk and lace, stood Marlene in nothing but her underwear. She was twirling in front of the old dressing table, holding three completely different sets against her chest: a neon pink one — daring, almost transparent, as if throwing down a challenge and simultaneously testing the strength of Black's self-control; a strict black one with cutouts on the sides — it revealed more than it concealed; and the most scandalous one — almost weightless, made of fine mesh embroidered with silver stars, like a piece of the night sky.

"Hmm," Sirius deliberately coughed loudly, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest, as if trying to look unruffled. But his gaze had already treacherously slid downwards — along her slender thigh, lingering on how tightly the thin fabric of her panties stretched over her buttocks.

"Are you mocking me, McKinnon? Or have you decided to hold a private fashion show — exclusively for one privileged spectator?" He smirked, raising an eyebrow.

Marlene was not at all surprised by his sudden appearance. She shot Sirius a brief, defiant look over her shoulder, smirked at the corner of her mouth, and with a sharp movement threw her mane of blonde hair back, positioning herself so that he could now see her from the best angle. His girl was engaging in her favorite hobby: provocatively demonstrating her irresistibility. Sirius loved these moments, but he always stuck to the rules and maintained the pretense of the game they played together.

"Don't flatter yourself, Black. I'm just going to Lily's for a couple of days tomorrow, and the Evanses have a pool in their yard too. Not as luxurious as yours, an inflatable one. And I need to choose something that won't be embarrassing to wear in front of their conservative neighbors and Petunia," Marlene snorted, pulling on the pink swimsuit.

The fabric clung so tightly to her chest that Sirius involuntarily took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure — even though Marlene drove him crazy with her mere presence.

"In front of the neighbors?" his voice dropped to a rasp as he peeled himself off the doorframe and took one slow, springy step towards her, casting a long shadow over the scattered swimsuits. "Darling, they'll have a heart attack the moment you first go near the water. Especially in that…" he twirled his hand in the air, "…in that dazzling contraption. Is it even legal to wear that?"

Marlene looked utterly pleased with herself, tilting her head back so that the lamplight glinted on the thin shell necklace at her throat, which Black hadn't noticed at first. His gaze slid over her beautiful collarbones, and Sirius suddenly realized: enough. He wasn't made of iron. Even their eternal verbal sparring, which had served as a reliable shield for years, wasn't saving the situation now — the air between them was already electrified to the limit.

"And this one," Marlene raised the mesh swimsuit with sequins, slowly twirling it in front of the mirror, letting the light scatter into a shower of sparks across the walls, "this one, I think I'll save for a special occasion. For example, when you stop being an insufferable know-it-all," she said, and the last word hung in the room like an echo fading somewhere in the distance.

Sirius didn't answer. Instead, he closed the distance in one step, scooped her up along with all the swimsuits, carelessly tossing them aside. He carefully lowered Marlene onto the crumpled sheets and loomed over her, breathing raggedly. His fingers slid along her arm, sending pleasant shivers through her. Beneath him, Marlene arched, clearly triumphant, with a mischievous glint in her blue eyes — she knew exactly what she was doing.

Pool @blackinnonmicros

Being outside was simply unbearable. The sun blazed with such fury that the air seemed to melt, and the ground beneath one's feet felt ready to turn into a scorching frying pan. Each step on the heated stone radiated heat even through the soles of one's shoes, and so leaving the confines of Uncle Alphard's mansion — the very one Sirius had inherited — was catastrophically unappealing. The most one could muster the courage for was to step into the yard and make it to the pool.

The pool was located deep in a shady garden, surrounded by old cypress trees and dense lavender bushes. Its shape was not strict but natural — as if it were not a man-made structure but a natural lake, carefully incorporated into the landscape. The bottom was paved with fine mosaic in shades of turquoise and lapis lazuli: when sunlight pierced the water, the pattern shimmered, resembling a scattering of starfish on a lagoon floor.

A wide stone border of warm honey color ran along the edge — in places, it was covered with a light patina of age, but this only added to the spot's charm. Low-growing jasmine grew along the coping, their white flowers emitting a delicate fragrance that mingled with the scent of heated stone and the moist freshness of the water.

The charm worked flawlessly: it enveloped this secluded spot in blissful coolness, creating an oasis of freshness amidst the sweltering heat. The water in the pool was crystal clear, with a slight bluish tint, and appeared almost sapphire in the depths. A light ripple ran across the surface, catching the sun's glare and scattering them onto the walls of the nearest trees as trembling patches of light.

This was where Sirius found Marlene.

She was lying on the edge, her long, tanned legs dangling into the water. Her golden hair, slightly bleached by the southern sun, was spread across her back like a radiant halo. In a wet indigo one-piece swimsuit that hugged her figure perfectly, she looked damn good — relaxed, serene, like the very embodiment of a hot day's lazy bliss.

Sirius, pleased to have gone unnoticed, surfaced silently at her feet, took a noisy breath, and pushed his wet black hair off his forehead. He looked up at her — with that same sly tenderness that had driven girls crazy ever since his Hogwarts days.

"Are you planning to sit here all day, McKinnon?" his voice was low and mocking. "Or are you just waiting for the water to beckon you into its embrace?"

Drops dripped from his bare shoulders, glistening in the sun like a scattering of tiny diamonds.

Marlene raised an eyebrow, only now suddenly acutely aware of how close his hands were to her thighs. She leaned forward slightly, and a wet blonde strand fell from behind her ear, touching his forehead. She smelled of floral perfume — a light, barely perceptible whisper of summer. She looked at Sirius defiantly.

"Admit it, someone has to play the impregnable fortress while you're here playing the sea serpent," Marlene replied, slightly drawling her vowels. "Besides, the water is cold, like the heart of your dear mother."

He laughed, appreciating her joke. He noted to himself that the idea of introducing Marlene to Walburga had been doomed from the start — everyone, including himself, had warned against it. But he didn't feel like thinking about that now.

Sirius pulled himself up with one jerk, leveling himself with Marlene so that their shoulders almost touched. She didn't move away. She only narrowed her blue eyes, in which the reflections from the water danced, and smiled at the corner of her mouth — throwing him a silent challenge. That half-smirk always made Sirius forget about every other girl in the world.

"Then," he whispered, leaning in so close that she could taste the saltiness on his lips, "allow me to warm you up, McKinnon. I've always thought that cold and flame are a damn explosive mix. And just imagine what happens when two fires meet?"

Marlene wanted to playfully smack him on the shoulder, but the attempt ended in failure. In the next second, water closed over both of them, taking them into its cool embrace — Sirius had shamelessly pushed her into the pool.

@blackinnonmicros word count 110

The sun shone down on the pool; Sirius, his wet hair plastered to his forehead, dodged the splashes from Marlene, who was chasing him.

She caught up with him at the edge, both of them panting between bursts of laughter and splashes. The sun enveloped them, and for a moment everything stopped—the murmur of the water, the echo of the war—the whole world reduced to the closeness of their lips.