up to no good.

Her eyes rolled, but she couldn’t wipe the grin from her lips. It felt wrong, out of place but she tried to push those thoughts away. “Yeah, me too,” she replied quietly. All the ups, all the downs, all the laughs and all the tears, she would do it all over again too. With him, and with Lily and James and Dorcas and Peter and Mary and Remus and Benjy. They weren’t the family she was born with, but they were the family she chose, and she knew it was different for him. They were the only family Sirius had. He pulled her closer and she let out a small, content sigh. In a world of uncertainty, that was the one thing Marlene was sure of anymore - that she loved Sirius Black - in a way she couldn’t and probably would never love anyone else… and he loved her just the same. They were two halves of the same heart. They were soulmates. “Speaking of sleep,” she said, going for a playful tone but it just came out tired. She was tired. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally… just so damn tired. “Can we?” she asked, already settling on his chest… but before she got too comfortable, she lifted her head and pressed her lips to his. Maybe they shared dreams too. They could dream of another universe where they could run away to Greece and have their happily ever after.

How long until it hit? How long until this little bubble they’d created burst and all that pain came flooding back in? Sure, it was all still there in the back of his mind, the fact that he’d almost lost her, the fact that he might still lose Harry, but Sirius knew once the emotions bled through they’d come full force. For now, though, it was so much easier to let his thoughts drift back to their first kiss, first date, first time, first break-up. So many firsts, and yet he’d never stop wanting more; even her dumping him couldn’t completely kill that small part of him that wanted her to be all his lasts, too. “Hmmmm,” he mused, the noise coming out as a rumbling in his chest. As if he had to think about it; he was still too wired to sleep, still needed her awake to distract him, but he knew damn well that she needed her rest and if he was lucky maybe he could catch a few hours’ sleep, too. “If the princess insists.” Grinning into the kiss, too much teeth and too much love, he settled deeper into the pillows. Her weight on his chest would never grow old, their bodies fitting together like the missing pieces they swore the other was. “Sleep tight, golden girl. I’m not going anywhere.” With one hand, he played idly with her hair, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

Sirius was the one person who could always get him to laugh, no matter the circumstance. There didn’t have to be a good reason, anyway, but now it was appreciated more than it was before. Of course, James was never one to let his mate’s feel under appreciated. He liked to tell them every chance he got that he loved them. But, it was more palpable now. Having good friends was a fact that James knew he took for granted. Not just good friends. Brothers. Sisters. People who would take care of him as if they were family. He’d always wanted a big family, and it seems as though he had made his own.

Still, the thought of Harry was ever present, and his smile was not quite full. “Honestly, they’ve been waiting for this day,” he said. “Wizarding chess, y’know. Boring. We’ve made it fun. Unpredictable. Quite in the marauder way, if you ask me.” He even added in a wink, just to see a smile appear on Sirius’ face. There were times when he needed a laugh too, after all. “I think it’s absolutely right, and the little pieces agree too, look at em’ go.” He laughed once again as he watched them go. “Y’know my da taught me how to play this game. I don’t think I actually ever listened to those rules though.”

Putting on this facade, throwing himself into the body of the Sirius who hadn't lost everything that mattered - it felt good, but he couldn't quite shake how foreign it seemed now. James had seen him after he’d lost Regulus, had seen how deep he’d spiraled without feeling able to voice a word of it; he knew the other man would understand all the destructive ways he’d been coping. The very thought of putting just an ounce of that weight on James when he’d lost infinitely more than Sirius could even fathom seemed like cruelty beyond anything he could stomach. And so he swallowed it down and threw himself into what he knew, what they both knew, and hoped it would be enough.

“Who knew this would be how we left our mark on the world?” Sirius shook his head, tutting at the very thought. “I always did know we’d go down in history. If changing the face of wizarding chess - and the wizarding world as a whole along with it, of course - is how it must go, so be it.” It worked like a charm, a genuine smile spreading across his lips at the wink. Maybe it was just for show, but it calmed some deeply buried anxiety in him to see that if nothing else, James was trying. If he could try, so could Sirius. Absentmindedly, he flicked the tail on the knight’s horse, just to see the glare the knight shot him. “How Fleamont had the patience to teach you, I will never understand.” There was a pang in his chest, and his smile faltered; first came the affection for the Potter family, but following close behind was the ever-present cloud of his own childhood, one he couldn’t quite seem to shake off.

“oh, will you now?  i’m gonna hold you to that, sirius.  even if i don’t believe it.”  against his better judgment to let his friend suffer on the ground, benjy stuck out a hand so he could sit back up like a regular human being.  the concrete was hurting his arse, so he could only imagine how it felt for sirius’s entire body.  “cover, mate.  never judge a book by its cover.  come on now.”  he tapped his temple as he continued,  “i’ll take that as a compliment.  it might not seem like much, but there’s a lot up here.  i wasn’t a ravenclaw for nothing, you know.”  smacking sirius’s arm, he let out a laugh.  “oh, sure.  let me call her down then.”  with that, benjy whistled loudly, enough to draw the ire of someone walking into st. mungo’s.  perhaps it wasn’t the best time or place.  “think she’ll know it’s for her?”

“I never tell a lie. I’ll even compose my own songs, just for you.” Clearing his throat, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. “’Benjy’ doesn’t rhyme with much, does it?” Sirius had half a mind to refuse the hand, but the longer he laid there the more he could feel loose gravel digging into his skin. Pulling his most aristocratic face, he accepted the hand and hoisted himself up, smiling as if he was the one doing Benjy a favor. “Right, that one. I like ‘bindings’ better, whoever came up with this saying clearly didn’t appreciate alliteration.” Shaking his head in dismay, his expression was quick to grow more teasing. “I still think you missed your calling. Could’ve been a Gryffindor, but no, you ended up with all your book smarts instead of the best four roommates in Hogwarts history.” From his vantage point, he smiled and waved at the passerby who’d cast them a glare. “Of course she will. She senses me. We’re connected, Fenwick.”

“Well, aren’t I lucky?” Barty played along with lips grinning. Barty used to be closer to Regulus. They were more alike in some ways but he never minded Sirius’ presence. And now that Barty has no contact with the younger Black brother, he only grew closer with Sirius. “Oh,” Barty’s eyes flickered towards the door. He hoped that the roommate wouldn’t impede Sirius from talking more freely. Especially if the roommate turned out to be a fellow member of the Order. His eyes returned to Sirius. “Will your roommate be joining us soon? The more, the merrier after all,” he said. “Either way, you surely look like you enjoy your time alone,” he didn’t need to fake the jealousy in his voice. even if it only faintly laced his teasing tone. “I certainly can’t do that at home.” Barty raised his bottle of beer as if he was making a toast. “To more chats with alcohol then.” Barty took a swig of beer before wiping his lips with his sleeve.”So,” he began, walking from the counter to one of the couches, “what have you been keeping yourself busy with?” 

Sirius nodded seriously. “I expect a thank you letter,” tone strict, he pointed a finger at Barty. After a moment’s hesitation, the facade cracked and he laughed, the sound rare these days. “Actually, the beer will do.” Waving a hand to dismiss the question, Sirius took another sip of his drink before answering. “Nah, he’s at work. I think. Presumably.” Eyebrows scrunching, he tried to remember the schedule that he was reasonably certain Felix had told him. No matter, the point was he was out of the flat for a few hours. There was truth to the words; after so much destruction at his own hands, and after so many times where his poor roommate had had to deal with a wildly intoxicated Sirius, the emptiness was almost calming. But the emptiness was also boring, thus the music still playing along in the background. Idly, he wondered if he should refresh his silencing charm. “Oh, it could definitely be worse. And this way, no one can criticize my taste in music.” Sniffing pointedly and lifting his chin, he held the beer like a crutch, all his attention focused on the cool bottle in his hand and the man before him. “I’ll cheers to that!” he crowed, lifting the bottle. There was another brief pause, and he tried not to pick at the label. “A bit of this, a bit of that. Work. Pubs. A lot of pubs, actually.”

“— oh, pardon me a second.”  jasper excused himself from his conversation and strolled over to the bar, taking the first stool available.  “don’t think i didn’t notice you making eyes at me for the past half hour.  hi,”  he said to the person now at his side, a self-assured smile across his face.  when jasper next spoke, he leaned in close and lowered his voice.  “aubrey over there won’t leave me alone and i’ve still got some time to kill before my shift.”  he jerked a thumb behind him, pointing at the man who’d previously held his attention.  “laugh like i just said something funny, okay?  i’ll buy you a shot if you manage to get him to go away.”  

This was far from the first time Sirius had found himself at Merlin Rouge, and likely would be far from his last, but it was the first time he’d ventured in alone. Of late he’d been throwing himself into his usual routine, spending more time with friends than he had in the past month combined, and really it was a decent distraction but it wasn’t enough. Between the neon lights and loud music and beautiful people, the strip club was at least an improvement, and if had to pass a night sipping drinks at the bar and taking it all in without one of his friends by his side, he was reasonably certain he could survive. In truth, he had been eying Jasper up, a familiar face from previous visits, even if the words were simply meant as cover. “You caught me,” Sirius remarked, a lazy grin so suited to the atmosphere spreading across his face. Obligingly, he let out a hearty laugh, leaning in to put a hand on the other man’s arm to drive the point home. With a glance cast behind Jasper, he leaned in even more. “Think that was convincing enough?”

He had a point that Tarquin agreed with. Or perhaps it was the fact that Tarquin was many things but he was not a hypocrite. At least not when it came to this. Going over what could have been done differently really was its own specific sort of evil, he knew very well how it could drive someone insane. That knowledge coupled with the fact that he was finding himself caring less about everything around him, content to make this last for as long as he could. “Fair enough, mate. I can hardly talk.” As Sirius got to his feet, Tarquin bend down doing another line and closing his eyes when it hit. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that mixing this with alcohol was a bad idea but who cared? Besides, if he was gonna commit to this, he might as well go all in so he called after him, “Top left cabinet.” 

Sirius had been here before, he knew how it went: first, the destruction - the drugs and the alcohol and the cruel words dripping like honey. Then came the numbness, the days where he simply wouldn’t move. After that, there was pain, distraction, and then normalcy that would never quite feel like normal again. Sirius knew all of this, had been here before, and he slipped into that same ugly pattern like it was some sort of cruel lifeboat, like it would keep him alive. Lingering somewhere within the high, he was pretty damn grateful he’d ended up at Tarquin’s, because who else would let him destroy himself like this? Who else would join him? And so Sirius grabbed a bottle from the cabinet and two glasses he didn’t intend to use and waltzed back into the room, full of his usual fervor just two steps offbeat. “Y’know, I think I like this stuff,” he remarked, leaning over for another line as soon as he’d resettled. Mouth feeling heavy but unable to stop talking, he continued. “I feel like I could scale a building. Maybe I should.” 

If they had been exasperated only moments earlier, it soon increased tenfold as he seemed determined to stay where he was. But they had always been stubborn and so they stood their ground, eyes narrowing slightly as he motioned for them to join him. “Bullshit, Sirius.” Words snapped from their lips, patience wearing thin only because they thought him better than this. He had fire and drive and endless amounts of passion. There was something so uncomfortable about seeing him reduced to almost nothing more than a flicker. Perhaps their own spark could rekindle his, challenge issued in the hopes that it would cause him to snap or fight back. Anything but remain the shell of himself that grief had made him become. “Since when did the Sirius Black give up?” The pleading in his gaze made them pause. Sirius Black had never begged them for anything. Sigh slipped from their lips and they finally take a seat on the couch, just perching on the edge. Head shook, tone soft but still firm as they spoke from personal experience. “No. Numbness can be scary.” They hesitate when they guard memories of their parents so fiercely but if there was ever a moment to bring up a childhood anecdote, it was now. “My dad told me it was just our response to when something hurt too much. It passes.”

In a flash, his gaze snapped up to meet theirs, instinct more than emotion driving his actions. This was what Sirius loved the most about them: their fire, their ability to say what needed to be said without taking no for an answer. This was what he admired about them, solid in all the ways he was not, and usually, it would be enough to get him to do just about anything with teasing words and reckless smile but. But. A reckless smile wouldn’t come, his expression remaining neutral and listless. Something in the back of his mind was infuriated - with them, with himself, with the world. Why couldn’t their prodding be enough? Why did a part of him want to listen, to will his heart to start beating properly again? Nothing felt right and nothing made him want to try and so he stayed silent, but he held their gaze. It was a start. He let out a huff of a laugh, but he couldn’t shake the hollowness. “You should’ve seen me a week ago,” he remarked dryly, memories of biting words and bar fights viewed through a haze. Somehow, there was comfort in their proximity; he’d known them just as long as the friends he called brothers, had trusted them since the first time they called him on his bullshit. He knew Dorcas, and having them close enough to touch like some pillar of the life crumbling beneath his feet helped. Sucking in a deep breath, he nodded. “I think I’d rather be scared.” The admission was so wholly uncharacteristic as it dripped from his lips, and that was as good as anything at stirring some life back into him. It was their mention of their father that did it though. Limbs protesting, mind protesting, he pushed himself into a seated position. “He sounds like a wise man. Is that where you get it from?” A complement of the highest order from Sirius, yet spoken in an echo of his usual teasing tone.

Dirk smiled back, trying to convey in one look that it was okay, that he didn’t understand what Sirius was going through and possibly never would but he did sympathise. His anxiety had quieted now, too, fading into a background pitter-patter as he laughed at Sirius’ comment and focused on potions. Not quite his best subject at Hogwarts but it was in the top three and it was his best of the ones which weren’t all theoretical which had made it his favourite. “A few things. I’ll probably just make a wit-sharpening potion or two. It helps with long days at work which is a pretty boring reason for using it but I enjoy potion-making enough for that to be a hobby in itself, it has never really bothered me what exactly I’m making and there’s only so many things you can make which won’t just go to waste.” It wasn’t like he had any intention of hurting anyone and there were a lot of medicinal potions he would probably never have any need for.

Sympathy had always rung just a bit too close to pity for Sirius’s taste, and his instinct was to respond to any show of it with a joke, with biting words, with anything that might stop the other from looking at him like that. The impulse was there, but he stamped it down, the faint itch of annoyance or fear or whatever too much emotion too soon. But it was easy enough to crack a smile and nod along, even if he couldn’t quite feel entirely like himself. “Wit-sharpening, hmm?” Sirius remarked, raising an eyebrow in interest. “Wonder what would happen if I took one.” Puffed up with a forced arrogance, he gave a cheeky grin and a wink. Sirius Black had been putting on a show since the day he was born; he could act like he wasn’t so damn tired, as if he felt like himself. Much to his professors’ chagrin, Sirius happened to be surprisingly good at potions - and at making them explode all over one Severus Snape - but it had been a while since he’d put those skills to any real use. “Creswell, I never knew you were a man of so many talents.” There was a joke in there somewhere, just outside of Sirius’ reach and any other time he would have grabbed for it, witty remarks his native tongue. Instead, he just grinned, teasing yet not ingenuine, hand over his heart.

Bloody hell, when did she not look at him like that? Even when she was mad at him, she still wanted him. Even when he was being an arse. This was a perfect example. The problem was that he looked at her the same. There was something behind every look. Want. Need. Love. All of the above. “Shut up,” she mumbled, but it was halfhearted. Then they were kissing, and it had the desired effect. The rest of the world disappeared until it was just Marlene and Sirius. Nothing else mattered except for whatever the hell was happening on the roof. Marlene didn’t know what was going on, she just knew that she could let herself get lost in his kiss and forget everything. Her hand was freed from his grip and she moved it to his neck, trying to deepen the kiss. She wanted to kiss him everywhere, feel him everywhere. His hand on her back and sent a shot of electricity through her entire body and she rose up on her tip toes, gasping against his mouth. She took advantage of the gasp to pull away just enough to breathe, “Yep, terrible kisser,” against his lips.

Sirius Black loved Marlene McKinnon. It was that simple. Romantically, sometimes, platonic others, against his better judgment occasionally. It was written into his DNA: Marauder, fighter, hers. It was this knowledge alone that let him cling to her in a way he was terrified to do with the boys - because he wasn’t Sirius now, or perhaps he was, a Sirius filled with pain and anger and drugs and liquor. He didn’t feel like the Sirius who’d done what better wix couldn’t so that one of his best friends wouldn’t be alone. He didn’t feel like the Sirius who’d waited around the hospital for as long as it took for her to heal. He didn’t feel like the Sirius who gave a damn about a single thing but kissing her felt like digging up an old memory. It wasn’t enough; he couldn’t let that part of him go enough to lose himself in her. Nails digging into her back, just enough to remind her he was there, the hard look didn’t leave his eyes but his face was flush, eyes dilated, hands holding her close. “Guess I should stop, then,” he spoke it like a challenge, but he didn’t let her body move from where it was pressed to him. “Or do you want to tell me what else I’m terrible at?”

Spotting a familiar face as she finished up with one patient, arms crossed over her chest. Lips pursed in faked disapproval, head shaking as she made sure her tone was as chiding as possible. “I really hope that this is a social visit.” The pretence doesn’t last all that long though and a grin is soon blooming over her lips as she speaks again, lighter cadence to her words. “Please tell me you’re not hurt?” She hadn’t seen Sirius in weeks and she could only imagine how Harry’s death was affecting him. All she could do was hope that he hadn’t turned to anything too reckless.

@oftherebels​

Really, Sirius would’ve taken just about any excuse to go see Greta; her presence was just so calming, comforting. As soon as he’d come out of that first destructive phase of loss, he’d been keeping an eye out for her in the streets, at meetings, yet he never seemed to get a moment to speak with her. So then it was convenience and nothing more that he’d found himself in a bit of a bar brawl the night before. Just an excuse to see his favorite healer. “Why can’t it be both, Greta? Let a man multitask.” With a tsk, he shook his head, as if wounded by the suggestion. Shrugging his shoulders, he tossed her a slightly abashed grin and lifted his shirt, bruised ribs on display. “I know what you’re thinking, but it wasn’t my fault, I promise.”

alastor had been alive a long, long time –– maybe longer than he’d been entitled to, but definitely longer than most people had expected him to last. he’d lost friends and families and partners and mentors over the years, even owls. ( they hadn’t died, they just flew away. ) so the auror understood where sirius came from, but he also didn’t. “ why shouldn’t you? ” he asked, quiet and blunter than he maybe should have. so alastor cleared his throat, crossing his arms tight across his chest. “ you can yell and you can throw things and you can –– ” he raised his brows, levelling sirius with an unimpressed look, “ –– hit me with some more sarcasm, what good is it gonna do right now? ” sirius was young, too young. he was still a kid. but this was a war, and there was no breathing space in a war. “ you’re not gonna feel better. ” 

Sirius was, by his own admission, not exactly great at listening to authority figures. No matter how much he loved to bother Moody until his antics drew the all-too-familiar scowl out of him, though, it was undeniable that he was one of very few who could actually get Sirius to listen. And so listen he did, even though he didn’t like what the older man had to say. “Possibly because this loss I actually get to mourn,” he bit back, more open than he’d be in almost any other company. When his father had died - fine, good riddance. When Regulus had died - well, he couldn’t grieve over someone he’d turned her back on, could he? “Oh, been there, done that. We’re on the third set of dishes this month at my flat.” As much as he tried to focus in, his mind still felt as if it was trapped in a fog. “It doesn’t seem like anything will do any good, but what do I know? It’s clearly not up to me to plan any retaliation.” Despite the biting sarcasm, his tone was tired, lost; did Moody really think he didn’t know all of this? “I know nothing I do is going to make things right again, trust me.”

Remus had woken up just before noon, having worked the bar til closing the night before. It was his first day off in a week and he’d savored it, rising at a leisurely pace, having more than tea and toast for breakfast. He’d even cast a bird-conjuring charm, watching with amusement as Romulus chased them to until he was on his side, panting hard. And because he had no errands to run or werewolves to liaise with, he didn’t have to go anywhere. He grabbed a book he’d been reading for the past month and curled up in his bed, finally finishing it. It was long after that that he heard a knock on the door. Untangling his legs from Romulus, he padded towards the door and peered through the peephole, a little surprised to find Sirius on the other side. It had been some time since the other Marauder had last visited. He pointedly chose not to wonder why. Even if he had unspoken suspicions, Sirius acted as if nothing was different, all wide grins and cheekiness. “And have you been spending more time with people that have silly rules like that?” he asked, with a smaller grin. “Maybe I shouldn’t have missed you.” He hummed before jerking his head towards the couch. “Come in.”

This was the thing, why he both avoided Remus at times and needed to be around him at others: Everything felt so normal when Sirius was with his friend. All the suspicion that seemed to cloud his thoughts when they strayed to one lycanthrope faded into the background when the door opened, as it always did. It would still be there, lingering, cataloging every word to mull over later, but for just a moment Sirius could pretend like they were nothing more than two friends and that the world wasn’t constantly falling out from underneath him. “Some people simply have no taste, no matter how much I try and educate them.” Shaking his head with a sigh, he treated the matter like the absolute tragedy it was, dammit. “You could try not to miss me, but it wouldn’t work. Trust me. There have been studies on it.” Admittedly, Sirius didn’t have a single healthy coping mechanism, but ignoring his pain seemed at least healthy-adjacent. Waltzing through the open door, he beelined to the couch and all but through himself onto it, somehow sprawled in a casual lounge in one corner upon impact. The record was still clasped lovingly in his hands. “And what have you been up to today, Moony my lad? Anything exciting, or am I the dashing hero here to add color to a drab day?”