#2.3k

There is something about a child's toy, tossed out a car window in a fit of rage or sorrow, lost to an unforgiving world of car tyres and cold tarmac.

Harry had been barely one the first time such a thing had happened and, much to his parents horror, it wasn't even his own toy he had thrown. It was, in fact, yours. There had been some sort of unnamed dispute in the back seat which had ended with your favourite toy giraffe chucked out the tiny gap and into the great unknown. You had stared at him for a few moments in pure, unquestioned silence... and then you had screamed.

Lily had almost crashed the car she was so shocked, her neck cracking painfully as she spun to see what was wrong with the two of your. Her auburn hair had danced in the breeze coming through her window and her eyes had scanned the two of you desperately before the honk of an oncoming car brought her back to reality and she turned back to face the road. She pulled over in a lay-by two minutes later, but by then it was too late. Your toy was lost and you were practically inconsolable. Harry had also taken up sobbing, more because someone else was than because there was actually anything wrong with him, and he seemed fairly unrepentant for the tears being his fault.

It didn't take long for Lily and James to figure out what was wrong with you, both of them searching high and low throughout the car in the desperate hope that one of them would find the missing soft toy. It was a futile hope and the presence of more than a few Muggles stopped them simply summoning the item. They knew they wouldn't even be able to do it later in the day - it was a busy road and they couldn't risk getting into trouble with the Ministry for breaking the law. They were already on shifty ground as it was.

"Sirius is going to kill us," James said hollowly, running a hand wearily through his hair and staring at his wife. "That toy was her favourite."

Lily bit her lip as she thought, finally nodding before climbing back into the car. "Come on, better get it over with."

In the end, Sirius spent four hours out on the side of the road attempting to find the giraffe that night, taking his canine form in order to avoid the attention of passing Muggles and diving sideways into the brush whenever someone got too close to thinking it was odd there was an animal on the side of the road.

When dawn came and light returned, he came back to his house with exhaustion spread wide across his face and strands of hair escaping the loose bun he had shoved it in. His wife, Ella, met him with an equally weary smile, her arms cradling you.

"How is she?" Sirius's voice was hoarse.

"She only went off half an hour ago," Ella whispered, her eyes dropping shut as she rocked back and forth. "I'm hoping she's fine now, but I'm not sure. I don't want to risk putting her down."

"Get some sleep." Sirius pressed a gentle kiss to her lips as he took you from her, nestling your tiny body in his own arms as he stared lovingly down at you. "You deserve it."

"Are you sure? You must be exhausted." Ella watched him worriedly, though she didn't need much more persuasion to head off to bed, craving the warmth it would provide and more than willing to let her eyes fall shut.

Sirius stayed up for another two hours rocking you in his arms before he fell asleep on a chair in the living room, his neck tipped awkwardly against the back in a way which would surely end up hurting in the long run and his legs stretched out to rest on the table in the centre of the room - an action Ella would have reprimanded him for if she hadn't been so thankful he'd taken you from her.

None of you knew that he would one day find that toy again, and he would return it in a highly unexpected way...

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

"Come on, Mum!" you called over your shoulder, pushing the trunk-loaded trolley through the station and earning more than a few strange looks for the sleek black cat stretched across your shoulders, his head resting lazily against your neck. "We're going to be late!"

Your mother sighed, hastening her step slightly in an attempt to keep up with you. She was at a disadvantage, standing just a few inches shorter than yourself and not being near as motivated to get to the train as fast as possible.

"I've not been late yet. How long do you think I've been doing this?" she asked you as she caught up, brushing a strand of waist length hair over her shoulder and fixing her narrowed eyes on you.

"I don't know," you muttered, gazing around the station in hopes of spotting someone you knew, "you're ancient."

"I'm thirty," she corrected. "And that's quite enough cheek from you."

You refrained from mumbling a comment about her asking for it, standing on your tiptoes to gaze out over the sea of Muggles, hoping for a familiar magical face. You sighed as you realised there was no such person there to relieve your boredom.

"I don't know what you're sighing for," your mother said. "Some of us didn't know a single person when we first came to Hogwarts. You're lucky."

"I still need to find someone to sit with."

"I'm sure there'll be someone. Isn't the Weasley boy meant to be starting this year?"

You would have snorted at the vague statement if you couldn't feel the butterflies writhing in your stomach. "Ron, yeah."

"That's the one. Why can't you sit with him?"

It wasn't so much that you had anything against Ron as that you always felt distinctly awkward around him thanks to a particular playdate in which Fred had announced his youngest brother had a crush on you. Ever since, you always felt as though he was embarrassed enough he might explode when he was around you and you hated having to try to ignore the uncomfortable situations.

"Maybe."

Your mother let out a long sigh, her dark eyes fixed on you as she muttered, "This would be so much easier if your father were here."

You had heard the words before on many occasions. So much, in fact, that you could have guessed she would say them. There hadn't been many occasions over the last ten years on which your mother and you managed to have a day out without her wishing for your father's presence. It had taken her a long time to explain where he had gone, though, and she had done her best to make sure that the past didn't lie on your shoulders even if she still went on about him all the time.

For a start, she had changed all of your records so you were registered as a Linder rather than a Black, hoping that the change in name might be enough for people to overlook the features you had inherited from your father. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't, but you were hoping that you would be able to make it more than a few weeks at Hogwarts without anyone working it out. Just so long as none of the Weasleys slipped and mentioned it...

Anyway, you knew that it was bound to happen eventually and you had resigned yourself to the fact that your father's actions would forever haunt your steps, regardless of whether or not he had actually committed the crimes. Your mum was convinced he hadn't, but every other record of the incident seemed to say otherwise and you couldn't remember enough of the man to form your own opinion, so you were left constantly hanging in the balance.

The farewell between you and your mother wasn't particularly touchy-feely; there weren't any tears involved and she left the station almost as soon as you were on the train, claiming she had to get to work. You didn't call her out on the lie, knowing that it must be difficult to see the train again after so many years when it held so many memories of her younger years. Still, it would have been nice of her to act as if she cared that she was sending her little girl off to school for a whole year.

Marching onto the train, you lugged your trunk behind you, already wishing you were able to use the levitation charm to carry it. It would make life a lot easier for you and it would save you a lot of aching muscles later.

Finally finding yourself at a compartment with only one occupant, you dropped your trunk, wincing at the loud thud. Taking a long breath, you decided you probably weren't going to do any better than this - you might not have been late to the train station, but there weren't many empty spaces left and they were filling up fast.

Fixing your most confident expression on your face - and not knowing how scarily reminiscent of your father you looked - you slid the door across, pretending you didn't notice the way the boy inside flinched at the sound, and strode inside with your trunk in your hand.

"Can I sit?" you asked, though you didn't really give him a chance to refuse as you sank into the seat across from him, quickly introducing yourself.

"Oh, hi, I'm Harry Potter." The boy smiled nervously. Your mouth dropped at this admission.

"You threw my giraffe out the window."

Clearly, this was not the response Harry had expected and he stared at you in total, baffled silence for a few moments before uttering a confused, "Sorry?"

"You should be. It was my favourite."

It didn't take long for you to recount the few details you had been told of the incident and Harry quickly latched onto the idea of you having known his parents, a reaction you probably should have expected. Soon you found yourself telling him just about every detail you could remember of the time you had spent together as children, though you knew your stories would be slightly skewed by the fact that your mother had shared all of them with you. And you made sure not to mention the part your father may or may not have played in his parents' deaths.

When Ronald Weasley showed up at the compartment door not long after with a trunk in one hand, a rat in the other, and a nervous smile on his face, you decided that you could try to be friends with him and you welcomed him into the compartment with all the grace you could muster.

You had a feeling that the three of you might just turn out to be very good friends...

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ ••

"Stop!" The word escaped you in a burst of fury combined with fear, freezing everyone in their tracks and causing the dirt-covered man to turn to face you.

There was something terrifyingly familiar about his face, the steel grey eyes and the elegant features which weren't all that far from your own. It took all your strength to stare him down as you stood in front of Harry, wishing beyond all hope that he wasn't really your father, that this mess of a human being was just some lunatic who believed you were related to him.

He barked out a laugh, harsh and hoarse from years of no use, grinning lopsidedly at you as he muttered, "You're just like her."

"Like who?" you scoffed, though you worried your words didn't hold the bite you had intended.

"Ella, of course."

Anger flared inside you at the words, burning hot and bright as you scowled at him. "You don't know her. And you don't know me."

"I used to." His smile was wistful, but it didn't quell your ire. "Maybe I will again one day."

"You won't."

"I thought you might say that."

You watched as he shoved a hand deep into his torn robes, extracting something you barely recognised. He tossed it towards you and you caught it, hoping that it didn't turn out to be anything dangerous.

The material was muddied and ripped in places, clumps of stuffing escaping from the creature, but it was definitely recognisable as a giraffe.

"Took me twelve years to get it back to you," Sirius Black muttered gruffly, watching as you inspected it.

You couldn't believe it. This was the soft toy which had been lost when you were a baby, the one which had inspired the friendship between you and Harry. And somehow your father had brought it back to you.

"Where did you find it?" you whispered, gazing down at the giraffe with tears gathering in your eyes. Suddenly, you found yourself convinced that your father couldn't be guilty. How could he possibly have gone to the effort to find it if he was such an awful person?

"Don't even ask," he replied, screwing his nose up in disgust. "Do you believe me now?"

It was strange how such a simple action could matter, and yet you were convinced by it. Glancing over at Harry, you could see the same sort of realisation beginning to pool in his vivid eyes and you bit your lip in thought. Moving to stand beside Harry, you looped your hand through his, knowing you were both going to need each other's support here.

You quickly return, bumping into Steve at least three times but not making him drop the blunt between his lips, even as he yells a “See you I guess!” With a slight lisp and thrown up hands when you don’t say a word. Giggling with your box of strawberries in hand, you make it back into the living room, and Robin, clapping because your back, happily shuffles over, her hands hurrying you as you sit down, letting her get back into her same position.

“Hey! Quic- quiz question. What’s my favourite fruit?” Robin asks, with a smarmy face, like she’ll be able to tease you for being a bad girlfriend if you don’t guess it.

Instead you pause for a moment, eyes in thought as you look at her, as if you could read her mind if you stared hard enough. Before a smoke of Eddie’s weed passed by your face, and blinking, you answered “Me?”

Robin’s eyes blow wide, before she bursts into laughter. You’re cackling too after her, both of you hitting each other as you guffaw breathless. Even Nancy and Eddie share a giggle in their respective seats.

“You’re sooo funny.” You lull, picking up a strawberry and dangling it in your girlfriends face.

“You’re so funny!” Robin blurts back, hands pawing up in the air to try and catch your wrists.

“Oh great. See I didn’t miss literally anything, since Robin and y/n are still exactly the same.” Steve walks back into his living room with two red solo cups in hand, moving to place one by Robin’s head, then deciding against it and setting it down further away, out of the danger zone. Passing another full cup to Eddie who at least gave thanks, unlike your very distracted girlfriend, before going back for some more.

You airplaned the strawberry to Robin’s face, her eyes only on yours, even though her mouth was open and ready to receive, definitely about to miss it, and you giggled as you finally placed the red fruit to her lips, and Robin bit down. You moan hummed as she did, her eyes still right on you, her cheeks pink from the alcohol and something else, as you pull away a bit, allowing her to swallow.

Robin moans back in return, smiling that beautiful toothy smile up at you, and you bring the half bitten strawberry right back down, only to boop her on the nose with it, leaving dots of red juice.

Robin gasps, playfully growling at you. But when you bend down to peck over her nose, kissing the red marks away, Robin’s mewling in your lap instead. And her hands are clawing on your face, trying to pull you closer.

“You’re both gross.” Steve chimes, two more cups on the table and another in his hand, along with his exasperated face. And Nancy only laughs, exhaling from the short roll up, while Eddie agrees wholeheartedly, mocking you both playfully.

You only mock his words back as you lean in closer to Robin, letting her pull you as your taunting pushed out lips slot against hers. Kissing her once, but slowly, because both of you are worshipping each other’s lips, but towards the end of your kiss, Robin snort laughs into your mouth, and you have to pull back just so you can laugh too.

Leaning over to the coffee table, you make sure to stretch so you’re dangling your front right over Robin, before getting your red cup in your hands, Robin’s bracelet dangling down your wrist. With Robin watching you above her, you take a big gulp of your drink, as you keep your eyes down on her the entire time.

And Robin’s in awe at how sexy you can be, even just drinking. And she has to admit, her eyes do flutter down there. Mostly because your chest is heaving as you gulp heavily, but her eyes do stay a little longer than if she was just fascinated with watching your drink go.

You put your cup to the side, licking your lips and smiling down at your girlfriend as you give her the rest of her strawberry. Snapping your teeth delightedly at her when you feel her own teeth dragging over your fingers as she eats the strawberry from your hands. A delighted giggle leaving her as she chews, fiddling with her hands on her chest. She doesn’t need them anyway, with you feeding her.

“Robin don’t eat like that, you’ll choke.” Steve chides, dropping into his seat next to Eddie, who’s swapping his drink with Nancy to taste test each other’s.

Robin clicks her fingers, pointing at her best friend, and then pointing at you, winking, as she cheers out a loud “Hell yeah!”

It takes you a second, but you laugh, shaking your head emphatically. “No Robin, you’re a lesbian! We’re both girls!”

Robin tilts up to face you, surprised. “Oh yeah!”

All five of you burst into laughter that time. Robin’s spitting gasps of laughter that fall onto your hand as you stroke away her tears, sure some of your own were falling onto her top, as your body shakes uncontrollably, giving your girlfriend an earthquake. Nancy has to sit down, gripping onto Steve’s knee as she falls on her own to the floor, and Eddie was falling off the sofa, dragging Steve with him, who was also crying with laughter, and unfortunately now on top of Nancy too.

You continue drinking, well all of you except Robin, even though she wants you to feed her and ‘drink’ her, as she bemoaned hoping you were still just as wrapped around her finger as usual, you don’t think Robin’s new shirt or Steve’s carpet, would be very appreciative. And while the other three joke and laugh about whatever, you keep colouring your girlfriends lips in her new strawberry lipstick, and then kissing it off every time as well.

You can at least hold the blunt for her as you press it to her lips, letting her play with your free hand as you quietly tell her someone as pretty as her shouldn’t have to lift a finger. Only getting Robin to squeal excitedly up at you, nibbling on your fingers you’re half convinced she mistook for her own, as you take your own two puffs from the blunt that was just in between her lips. And when you lean down with a deep breath to shotgun kiss, so your girl really doesn’t have to put in any work, Robin might’ve just collapsed to the floor, if she’d hadn’t already been laying in your lap.

Robin’s even had a few times of her own where she’s flung the white leafy part of the fruit, only to grab your face and pull you down to her, whining as she desperately tries to get you to taste the strawberry on her tongue. She doesn’t really think about much else, she just wants you.

And you have to stop her from injuring her neck when she keeps trying to roll around mid kiss so she can also have her legs around you, even though she’s got her head in your lap. She just needs to touch you all over, everywhere, have you all on her. All over her.

You’re broken apart from a more passionate kiss, having rubbed off some dripped strawberry juice that fell down her side in apology, but in your tipsy haze, having not really cared about your fingers starting to slip down the side of her shirt, and down the side of her chest. That’s when Steve’s knee flings in the air in your peripheral, and you’re jolted out of your kiss, surprised. Even though Robin’s trying to stick her tongue back in your open mouth just centimetres above her, whining unimpressed, for you. Her hands on your shirt by your own chest, in fists.

“Man why’s there so much fruit on the floor.” Steve exasperates, picking up a smushed strawberry and placing it in an empty solo cup with a dirty napkin.

“That’s the price you pay. You’re the house guy in this arrangement.” Nancy points to him with her own newly refilled cup.

Steve slides the cherries Eddie had presented to you both earlier like a waiter with a french accent, and the strawberries closer to you too, giving you the ‘mom look’, with those knowing eyes, and you quickly apologise for the mess with a small smile.

Robin, unsure what was going on, looking up and about until she found her best friend, apologised too “Sorry Steve!” Even though she probably didn’t even realise other people had been in the room at that time. She’d only had those sparkling blue eyes on you.

But as Steve pats her shoulder, and Robin grins over at him, she looks over to where his hands are, and sees the bowl of garcia cherries, really meant for cocktails.

“OOOH!” Her eyes go wide. Hands grabby. And she reaches for the bowl, Steve handing it to her, as you chuckle and stroke back her soft hair lovingly, watching Robin set the bowl on her chest, and rub her socks on the carpet excitedly.

“Baby! Watch this.” Robin sighs up at you eagerly, and you smile back enthused. Holding Robin’s waist as you nod entertained, getting ready for whatever your hyped up girlfriend had just thunk up.

She plucked the small red cherry from the stem, slowly chewing and swallowing it, and she kept her eyes on you, to make sure you were watching.

Of course you wouldn’t go anywhere. Especially not when she’d drawn you in like this.

But your heart, your breathing, the whole world slowed, as Robin spun the cherry stem between her fingers, her eyes now clearly amorous and flirtatious. And with bated breath, you watch as Robin sticks out her tongue, and places the cherry stem there.

She closes her pink lips, and you feel your stomach squeezing in that tingly and addicting way, as you watch her tongue, swirling and bobbing in her mouth, breath fanning on Robin, as you know what trick she’s about to do. Your hands squeezing her waist, as Robin smirks up seductively at you.

And then, Robin starts choking.

You sit her up as she coughs it out immediately, spit and slobber and the stem leaping onto her lap, as Robin splutters. Patting her back and rubbing her arm with a face of concern, you watch your girlfriend look up at you, face red, shocked, still drunk and stoned, and swiping the drool from her lips as she coughs.