Sirius Black

Alara was just finishing up for the night when the shop’s bell chimed. She pushed through the swinging doors from the back, her smile lighting up as soon as she spotted Sirius.

“I was just thinking about you,” she said warmly. The last time they’d spoken, she had shared the truth about her sister and brother being Death Eaters, and how her sister had stepped away for her own reasons, which was clear enough to anyone who saw her expecting. With time, Alara had come to accept it, and the thought that her sister was no longer bound to that life brought her real relief.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she offered.

The witch crossed to the drawer she always used, the towel still snug around her frame, and pulled out a clean pair of knickers. She slipped them on without fanfare, letting the towel fall away in the process, and reached for one of his shirts-- the one she always wore, old and slightly stretched from years of use. She pulled it on over her head in one slow motion, the fabric clinging to damp skin as it settled around her thighs. It was a quiet kind of intimacy in the way she moved: unselfconscious, almost reverent. Not performative. Not teasing. But undeniably something in the way her fingers smoothed down the hem, in the tilt of her head, in how she lingered with her back half-turned, letting herself feel good in her own skin for the first time in what felt like ages-- especially under his gaze.

When she finally turned, she caught him watching and smiled, slow and small, but real. She crossed to him without hurry, hips swaying just enough to let him look if he wanted to. Not pushing. Just her. “Y’know,” she murmured, lifting his hand in both of hers, lacing their fingers together, “this might be the most relaxing birthday I’ve had in years.” Her voice was low, teasing, with a crooked half-smile. “You’re really raising the bar, Black.” The quip made everything feel lighter, as if he’d managed to carve out a pocket of quiet where she didn’t have to pretend, and he didn’t ask her to explain. “Could’ve been worse,” she added, fingers trailing up his forearm as she leaned in, resting her weight on him. “I’ve had birthdays with more clothes and less you.”

He couldn't help it, his eyes were drawn to her, searching to see how she was. He watched her back as she pulled on one of his t-shirts, watching as her fingertips grazed the hem before she turned back to him. He offered her a small smile as she made her way towards him, stopping close enough for their toes to touch. He let her take his hand, eyes following it's journey as she wrapped it in two of hers. He hummed softly as she began to speak, a soft laugh following soon after. "Don't let it be said that I give people bad birthdays," he nodded, a quick grin flitting onto his lips.

She pressed against him, left him holding her weight as he had done many times before. He wrapped his free arm around his waist, tilting his head in an act of thoughtfulness. "And it's only a few hours in. I can give you a lot more me and get rid of more clothes," he promised playfully. He took his lead from her, playing if she wanted to play and flirting if she wanted to flirt. He has expected them to get straight into bed, to curl up silently until she was ready to talk. But he was happy to follow whatever she wanted. "Tired?"

"Him," he corrected Sirius with a smile that burst at the seams. "Didn't imagine that, did you? I think you owe me something." James said as he hugged his best friend, a tear threatening to blink from his eyes. "Lils is napping upstairs." James took them upstairs to the nursery, where the midwife was with his son. He gave a polite smile as she excused herself, handing Harry off to James. Smiling, he turned to them. "Marlene, Pads, this is Harry," he said, craddling Harry and giving a small bop in his step. "Harry...these are the best people you'll ever meet so remember this moment, no pressure. Also, the worst people you'll ever meet, but that's a given. That's why we love them."

The witch leaned lightly against Sirius, letting the warmth of his presence steady her as the emotions washed over her. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached toward Harry, whispering softly, “Hi, Harry…” The tiniest fingers curled around her index, and her heart melted completely. “Oh, look at you,” she breathed, voice trembling with happiness. “Tiny, terrifying, and completely wonderful.”

She blinked at James, letting a soft laugh slip past her tears. “You know… we’re going to be bad influences when he’s a teenager. Just warning you.” She then glanced back at Sirius, giving his hand a quiet squeeze, and then returned her gaze to Harry. Her voice dropped even softer, almost a whisper only for herself, “I… I can’t believe he’s finally here… our little… family.” A whisper as she dared pronounce the word that scared her so badly but that simply felt right, letting every ounce of awe and care pour into her words.

Marlene pressed against him and Sirius silently moved his hand to the small of her back. Just a gentle pressure to remind her that he was there and that he had her. He smiled as the baby's tiny fingers curled around Marlene's, shaking his head. "Don't listen to your dad, we're just wonderful," he murmured softly. He looked up at James at the word 'dad' as though he still couldn't quite believe it was true. How had they suddenly grown up?

"Terrible influences," he agreed, grinning down at Marlene as she looked up at him. "But don't tell your mum because she's very scary." His arm wrapped around Marlene at her whispered words, well aware that family was a sacred and terrifying word for her. It wasn't that easy for himself either. "That means no getting rid of us, Harry," Sirius warned softly, finally reaching out to touch his tiny toes, almost scared to break him. He glanced up at James again, patting him on the shoulder. "Did you cry?"

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You guilt-trip me into being the friend I’m supposed to be, the one who sees things the way you do, who reacts like you expect, who doesn’t… feel differently. And then you act surprised when I say something, anything, that shows I notice I’m not just behind, I’m overlooked. I’m not asking for more than anyone else, I’m not asking for special treatment—just a damn acknowledgment that I exist as more than the guy tagging along, the one always trying to catch up.”

The boy's jaw tightened, eyes sharp. “You think I don’t want to be closer? That I don’t want to fight and stand with you all? Of course I do! But it’s hard to be that person when every time I open my mouth, every time I feel something—anything real—you make me feel like it’s a crime, like I’m failing at being part of this group just because I see the cracks you don’t want to look at.”

"What the fuck," Sirius laughed at the next claim, his eyes roaming over his so called friend as if looking for where he had gone. "I guilt trip you? For what?" he cried with indignation. "I've never guilt tripped anyone, if I wanted to make someone feel bad I'd have better ways of doing it." That he did, and it was taking every ounce of strength not to use them now. He was pissed off, and perhaps more importantly, he was hurt, and that made it very difficult not to lash out in a way only Blacks new how; with words you could never take back.

"I think you feel insecure and you're taking that out on me," Sirius answered with a shrug, stepping back from Peter. "I think you're scared and jealous and drunk." He shook his head, exasperated. "No, I'm not doing this. I'm not standing here, listening to you try and ruin the one good thing I have, fuck that." His hand twitched with an urge to shove Peter, to hurt him as he was being hurt, but he just shook his head again turning on his heel.

She tilted her head just slightly, helmet knocking against his chin with the lightest tap, playful even in the small gesture as she leaned back into him. “Then maybe we should park on some rooftop,” she suggested slyly, blue eyes flicking toward the glitter of city lights below. “High enough that no one will see us… close enough for us to… enjoy the view.” The pause was deliberate, her tone thick with implication, a soft chuckle leaving her lips. Her grin widened as her gaze lingered on the bottle tucked away. “Besides--” she added lightly, almost playing sensible, “--we probably shouldn’t drink and drive.”

"Are you not enjoying yourself?" he asked teasingly, tutting softly. "Do you want to see the Thames or not?" He really didn't care either way, having seen most of London from the skies by now. He hummed at the implication in her words, guiding them over the river, dipping carefully beneath the clouds so she could see. "We're already drinking and driving, McKinnon," he reminded her lightly. "Well, I am, you're pretending to."

“Take us over the Thames,” she called out over her shoulder, her voice light but certain, carried on the wind. “By the bridges—somewhere high enough to see it all, but quiet enough no one will notice us.” The idea of London glittering beneath them, just theirs for the moment, sent another shiver of excitement racing through her. She leaned back against him then, letting the warmth of his body anchor her against the chill of the night. The teasing spark returned to her tone, soft but unmistakable as she added, “And since I’m apparently handling this just fine—” her fingers gave his a playful squeeze, “—I believe it’s your turn to dare me, Black. Unless you’re too distracted to think of one."

He laughed in her ear, shaking his head as he pulled back. "What sort of dare can I give you up here?" he asked. "You can barely move much less do anything worthwhile." He smiled as the lights of london twinkled around them, briefly pointing out the city in the distance. "I can't hover for long or we'll be spotted," he warned her as the drove in close.

"Mm," he hummed in acknowledgement, looking back to Hestia. "Leave it with me for a few days and I'll see what I can do." Probably best not to mess with it here in case it did have hexes keeping it safe. "How's things anyway?"

When James opened the door and pulled Sirius into a hug, the witch couldn’t help the bright smile that tugged at her lips. The sight of her best friend’s grin was enough to make her chest ache. “Room for me?” she chimed in, nudging at them before throwing her arms around James too. “Congratulations, dad,” she whispered against his shoulder, pulling back just enough to search his face. “How’s Lils doing?”

The weight of it all hit then— James and Lily’s baby, the tiny Potter she had been waiting to meet, her and Sirius as godparents, the sudden certainty of family that settled deep in her bones. Her eyes burned, tears slipping free before she could stop them. She looked up at Sirius, twining her fingers with his for support, the smallest squeeze speaking to how much she cared, before reaching out for James too, a link between all three of them. “We really want to meet them too,” she said softly, the words breaking just slightly as the emotions spilled over.

"Can we see her?" he asked when Marlene asked after Lily, unsure if she'd be too tired to see them or not. While James had been his best friend for longer, Lily had become a part of Sirius's family years ago and he had been nervous for her, for how difficult he knew birth could be.

He almost held his breath as James mentioned the baby, turning his friend by the shoulders. "Come on then, let's not disappoint."

Something broke in him as Sirius spoke, the words striking deeper than he’d expected. He couldn’t quite make sense of it —of course they’d all take a hex for each other, he knew that— but when he pictured them doing it for him, it always felt… less likely. His voice cracked when he finally answered. "It's not about being thirteen, it's about being left behind— everyone's moving on and sure, they want you around, but it's been so damn easy to forget about me." His expression hollowed out, the raw edge of his confession leaving him too exposed, so he stepped back, bracing himself again, defensive. "It's fine, people move on when they get their own lives, right?"

"Merlin, you think an awful lot of yourself, don't you? Poor Peter. Our friends are happy and it's all about you. I'm not in a relationship, I've not got a career, I've not got a family. Had it ever occured to you that all of that - everyone else 'moving on'" - he said the words in air quotations - "could have made us closer?" He shook his head, stepping back as the anger reared up inside him. He knew he should walk away, let this end here and go no further, but it was so so hard to make any sensible decisions when the anger that was his birthright came into play. "I thought we were brothers, the four of us, I didn't know you felt otherwise."

His fingers tightened the grip around the bottle as Sirius took a step closer and while he would've usually retreated, let go of whatever grudge he had, this time was different. Peter did his best to stand tall, his eyes firm on his friend, his face showing a mix of emotions-- from anger to pain. "Tell me I'm wrong, tell me James doesn't come first or Remus, if you had to pick-- bloody tell me I wouldn't be last."

Peter stood his ground as Sirius neared him, his gaze defiant as he met Sirius's. In the back of his mind Sirius noted the bravery, bravery that he had admittedly occasionally thought Peter lacked. Most of Gryffindor house had been brave to the point of recklessness and Peter, in Sirius's eyes, had always been slower to join in with that reckless abandon. "James is different," he said, "I'm not going to deny that or apologise for it. I can tell you now that I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him so don't expect me to feel guilty for it." It was a harsh thought, and one he tried not to think about, but a true one. If James hadn't been there to pick Sirius up when he left his family, he would have been gone; either in another country altoghether or through more permanent solutions. He pushed the thought aside, focusing again on Peter. "It's not about who we'd pick, we're not thirteen anymore, Peter! I'd die for every one of you."

Marlene had been scanning the fayre for someone to drag into a drinking game when she spotted Sirius leaning there, all smug and irritating. Before she could say anything, a silver stag streaked across the sky, and her stomach did a full somersault. The baby’s born, their baby. She whispered, breathless, “We’re officially godparents…” and without thinking, grabbed Sirius by the arm. “We have to go. Now!”

The witch jabbed him in the shoulder, half-laughing, half-panicking. “And I swear, I will never get over the fact that you stole my best friend—my James—right under my nose.” Leaning against him as they prepared to apparate, she let herself drink in the chaos of the moment—the joy for her friends, the thrill of sharing it with Sirius, the absolute disbelief. “Come on, you ridiculous git,” she gasped, tugging him along. “Let’s go meet the little squib before I lose my mind entirely.”

"Well, I've always been more fun than you," he said, a little numbly as she started tugging him away from the market stalls. "Don't call it a squib," he laughed, "This is why James likes me more." He stopped her, strong enough to stay still despite her tugging. "Wait, can we just go to mine for two seconds." He instantly started speaking again as she started to protest, not giving her the chance. "Two seconds and we can floo from mine," he promised and he apparated before she could diagree, her hand still on his arm as she attempted to pull him away. They landed just around the corner from his flat and he gave another promise of two minutes before sprinting around the corner and up into his flat, returning 45 seconds later with a bag in hand.

"Okay ready," he told her, a grin shining through his breathlessness. "Let's go meet our godchild," he said, holding out his elbow to her. When she took it he apparated them and they walked together through the streets until they reached James and Lily's little cottage, where they knocked shortly on the door. "Are you shitting yourself?" he murmured as they waited for someone to answer. He smiled charmingly as a healer opened the door, introducing himself as he resisted the urge to barge in.

“Yeah. Right. Course I’m the twat.” The words were quiet, but they cut anyway, flat and unsteady, like he’d been holding them in too long. He shifted on his feet, restless, and this time he didn’t bother to look away.

"Wh--" Sirius looked around as if he was looking for someone else to confirm the madness he was currently experience. "I never said you were a joke," he replied, though it turned up at the end like a question. But then his jaw tensed, anger rippling through him at Peter's words. It came so easily these days, anger constantly simmering just under the surface since Regulus disappeared, since all his old acquaintance started popping up in his life again.

The accusation that Sirius treated his friends as less than his world, when they were quite literally all he had, bristled him and grazed the self hatred he tried so hard to keep hidden. He took a step forward. "What the fuck are you talking about, Peter?"

Her fingers twitched beneath his, giving in to the press of his thighs, though she managed to keep her tone light. “You’re right,” she added, eyes trained forward as instructed, “I couldn’t handle missing out on this.” She followed his guidance carefully, clutch releasing under her grip just as he’d told her, trusting him more than she trusted her own nerves.

He smiled at the laugh that fell from her lips, glad to hear her enjoyment as he pulled them into the air. He remembered clearly the first time he had managed to get the bike off the ground - though it had ended it a bit of a crash. It was a moment that was etched in his brain; a freeness and a high that he had been seeking ever since, and only occasionally reaching. It was always fun watching someone else experience that for the first time, hearing the awe in their voice.

He didn't bother replying to her thanks, just continying to lead them higher, climbing until her knew their was no risk of them being seen. "Where to?" he called out over the scream of the wind.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, trying not to grin as she attempted to smooth out her hair, “very sexy.” She looked cute actually, a small frown creasing her brows as her hair flicked out at odd angles. He didn’t say this though, instead just patting the top of the helmet. He shrugged at the compliment, holding out a hand to help her onto the bike.

As the bike roared to life beneath them, she leaned back just slightly against him, feeling the vibration and heat, a shiver of exhilaration running through her. “Okay… I think I understand why you love this so much,” she breathed, a small laugh catching in her throat.

“Wait till you get into the air,” he grinned, the sound of the engine music to his ears. “Eyes forwards,” he demanded again, his tone bossy and he flicked the switch for flight on. “Okay, keep releasing the clutch and I’ll get us off the ground,” he instructed. It was a steep climb, the garden too short for the run in he would have liked, and he thought it was too sharp for a first timer to manage.