#blackinnon

June 2026 @jilychallenge | June: Fluff

Prompt: A gets him/herself in trouble; B hears about it. he/she goes to A and asks "So, I heard about xyz. __What are we going to do__?" Partner: spawn of satan @godoncrack

Title: rumor has it Complete. 2.1k words. Rated T.

Summary: Lily ends up in detention because of Sirius Black, and James comes to rescue her. Jily with an oops side of Blackinnon.

word count:506

@blackinnonmicros

Sirius walked into the apartment. The air was heavy and still. In the living room, cardboard boxes were waiting for him, stacked against the wall. He walked over to the first one and lifted the lid. Inside was one of Marlene’s blue sweaters. He held it for a moment, then set it on the armchair. He opened another box. He found photos of Marlene smiling, with her camera slung around her neck. He ran his finger over the picture and fell silent. In the next box was a notebook. Pages filled with hastily scrawled sentences, drawings of stars. In one corner, written in smudged ink: “Don’t forget to laugh.” Sirius closed the notebook and set it aside. He pulled Muggle records out of another box. Faded covers, scratched vinyl. He remembered how she would play music in the midst of it all. He put the records back. An envelope appeared at the bottom. Inside, a lock of hair and a letter that had never been sent. He opened it. “I don’t know if we’ll survive…” Sirius folded the paper without finishing the letter. He poured himself some whiskey. He sat down in the armchair. The apartment was full of boxes. Each one contained objects that spoke of her.

He lit a cigarette, and the ash fell onto the cardboard. He didn’t brush it off. The night wore on. Sirius opened another box. He found a pair of worn-out boots. He picked them up, looked at them for a moment, then let them fall. Another box contained newspaper clippings and handwritten notes. Scattered words, dates, names. Sirius read them out of order and without pausing. The whiskey ran out. He got up and looked for another bottle. He sat back down. Smoke filled the room. The boxes were still there. They didn’t move. They didn’t run out. Each one held a piece of Marlene. Sirius opened another one. There were folded letters, some with ink stains. He read them slowly. He remained silent. In another box, he found a scarf. He held it for a moment. He laid it on the back of the armchair. The apartment was full of objects. All stored in cardboard boxes. All waiting to be opened. Sirius continued. Box after box. Photos, clothes, papers, records, letters. Each object made him pause for a moment. Each object forced him to remember her.

The night dragged on. The whiskey grew stronger. The smoke grew thicker. Sirius kept opening boxes. He kept looking at what was inside. He kept thinking about her. The cardboard was old, creased, and stained. But it still held everything. Sirius sat in the armchair. Surrounded by boxes. Surrounded by memories.

word count:282

@blackinnonmicros

The Order had received rumors of a recent crime: a Death Eater attack on the outskirts of London. Sirius and Marlene were sent to investigate, though neither had much confidence in the other’s discretion. The scene was silent, dimly lit by the embers of a burned-out house. The smell of ash and blood hung heavy in the air. Sirius kicked a piece of charred wood, his gaze hard. “This wasn’t just a simple attack,” he muttered. “They wanted it to be seen.” “A crime as a message,” Marlene replied, crouching down to examine the runes carved into the wall. “Death Eater propaganda.” The Dark Mark was clear: the dark symbol, designed to instill fear. Marlene recognized them as part of an intimidation ritual. Sirius, more impulsive, was looking for physical clues: footprints, ash, traces of a wand. They found a disturbing detail: a piece of black cloth, imbued with dark magic. It was proof that the Death Eaters had been there, but also a clue. Marlene tucked it away carefully, while Sirius lit another cigar, his arrogance undiminished. “Do you know what this means?” he asked. “That it wasn’t improvised. That someone is planning a series of crimes. And that we have to stop them before fear becomes routine.

word count:685

@blackinnonmicros

Sirius Black had never understood why Marlene insisted on dragging him into the Muggle world. He could tolerate the coffee shops, even the noisy buses, but that store with shelves full of colorful magazines left him perplexed. “What is this? A kids’ stationery store?” he asked, with that arrogant smile he almost always wore. Marlene raised an eyebrow and placed a glossy-covered volume in his hands. It featured a muscular man in a blue cape with a symbol on his chest. “It’s a comic book, Black. Illustrated stories. Adventures.” Sirius flipped through the pages and burst out laughing. “Are you telling me that Muggles entertain themselves with little drawn characters?” “Look at this…” he pointed to a speech bubble. “‘I’ll defeat you with the power of justice!’ Merlin, how cheesy!” Marlene crossed her arms, amused. “Sure, laugh all you want. But these heroes mean a lot to them. Not everyone has magic.” “Well, they should come up with something less ridiculous.” —Sirius slammed the comic shut with a dramatic flourish.—If I were a Muggle, I’d be bored after five minutes. She leaned toward him, that sparkle in her eyes that always spelled trouble. —Oh, yeah? Want to bet? —Bet on what? —That you can’t get through a whole one without getting hooked.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what do I win if I succeed?” “A kiss.” Marlene said it matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Sirius choked on his own laughter. “And if I lose?” “Two kisses.” He looked at her, taken aback, and then burst out laughing. “I like the way you think, McKinnon.” They flopped down on the floor of the store, surrounded by stacks of comic books. Marlene handed him a darker-looking one, featuring an antihero dressed in black. Sirius opened it dismissively, but soon his eyes settled on a panel: the character was smoking on a rooftop, his face scarred and wearing a dangerous smile. “This guy…” he murmured. “He’s got style.” “I knew you’d like him.” Marlene smiled triumphantly. “He’s a rebel—he does what he wants, doesn’t follow any rules.” Sirius feigned indifference, but his fingers lingered on the page. “Bah. Not bad. Though I could do better.” “Oh, really?”

“Sure. A motorcycle, a leather jacket, and no ridiculous heroic lines. Just action.” Marlene leaned in, brushing against his shoulder. “Well, you’ve already got your own comic book playing out in your head.” He looked at her, and for a moment, his arrogance faltered. “Don’t compare me to cartoon characters, McKinnon.” “They’re not cartoons. They’re symbols.” She lowered her voice. “And that’s exactly what you are to many people: someone who dares to take on the impossible.” Sirius swallowed hard. The paper crinkled in his hands. “I don’t like to admit it, but…” He paused, uncomfortable. “There’s something here. Something that reminds me of us.” Marlene smiled, satisfied. “Then you lose the bet.” He looked at her, feigning indignation. “What? I didn’t even finish the comic!” “But you’re already hooked.” She leaned in, her lips just inches from his. “Two kisses, Black.” Sirius sighed, defeated, though his arrogant smile returned. “Fine. But only because I’m a man of my word.” The first kiss was quick, playful. The second, slower, deeper, like a comic panel stretching out in time. When they pulled apart, Sirius’s eyes were shining. “If they ever draw me in one of these, I want it to be with a motorcycle and a black cape.” Marlene laughed, and the sound was more powerful than any explosion. “Deal.”

word count 740

@blackinnonmicros

The noise on Diagon Alley was always a chaotic mix of voices, footsteps, and flying papers. But that morning, the chaos had a focal point: the front page of The Prophet. In thick, black letters, glowing as if they were a freshly cast spell, the headline read: “Sirius Black Confirms Romance with Marlene McKinnon.” Marlene saw it first in the window of Flourish & Blotts, where the newspapers were stacked like candy. She stopped dead in her tracks, her heart pounding against her ribs. “No…” she murmured, running a hand through her blonde hair, as if she could hide behind it. The crowd was already beginning to whisper. A couple of young witches were pointing at the moving photo: Sirius, with his cheeky smile, one arm around her, kissing her on the cheek. She remembered that moment: it had been at an impromptu concert in the Potters’ backyard nothing official, nothing public. And now it was on the front page. “Black…” she hissed through clenched teeth, a mix of fury and nerves. As if she’d summoned him, Sirius appeared rounding the corner, striding arrogantly in that leather jacket that seemed more suited to a stage than an alley. He held the newspaper in his hand, waving it as if it were a trophy.

“Have you seen it yet, McKinnon?” he asked, with that smile of his that always seemed like a challenge. She glared at him. “What the hell did you do?” “What everyone was waiting for,” he replied, shrugging. “For us to stop hiding.” Marlene crossed her arms, trying to keep her composure as the people around her began to murmur, some even clapping. “And did you think it was a good idea to announce it on the front page of the most widely read newspaper in the wizarding world?” “Of course I did.” Sirius stepped closer, lowering his voice, though his eyes still sparkled with that rebellious gleam. “Do you know what this means? It means we’re no longer just a rumor. It means no one can deny that you’re mine.” She raised an eyebrow, with that mix of annoyance and attraction he knew all too well.

“Yours?” he repeated, defiantly. “Mine,” she insisted, leaning in until her lips brushed his ear. “And I’m yours.” A wave of heat washed over him, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of giving in so easily. “You could have asked me before putting it in the Prophet’s headline.” “If I’d asked you, you would have said no.” “Exactly.” Sirius burst out laughing—that laugh of his that always seemed to break the rules. “That’s why I did it. Because I know you like it just as much as I do when the world finds out.” She looked at him, trying to keep a straight face, but a smile was escaping from the corners of her mouth. There was something about him—that way he defied everything—that drew her in like a spell she couldn’t break. “You’re an idiot,” she said finally, though her voice sounded more tender than angry. “The idiot who loves you,” he replied without hesitation. The murmur of the crowd grew louder. Some began to whisper among themselves; others were already making comments that would turn into gossip in a matter of hours. Marlene sighed, resigned. “Well, it’s done now. There’s no turning back.”

“Exactly.” Sirius held up the newspaper again, as if it were a banner. “Now we’re in the headlines.” She took him by the arm, pulling him toward a quieter corner, away from prying eyes. “And what happens when the war catches up with us?” she asked in a low voice, with that shadow that always appeared when they remembered that the world wasn’t just laughter and headlines. Sirius looked at her seriously for the first time. “Then we’ll fight together. And if we fall, at least let them know we did it as who we are: you and me, without hiding anything.” Marlene looked at him, her heart tightening. There was a truth in his words that hurt, but also a strength that made her feel invincible. Finally, she kissed him. Right there, in the middle of the Alley, with the newspaper headline gleaming behind them, with people watching and whispering. The headline was no longer just ink. It was real.

Sirius Black and Marlene McKinnon. Boyfriend and girlfriend.

word count:292

@blackinnonmicros

The magazine Witch's Heart lay open on Marlene’s lap, its pages gleaming with that air of cheap promises. The quiz took up nearly ten pages, with illustrations of hearts and golden arrows. Sirius plopped down beside her, wearing a smile that seemed designed to ruin the seriousness of the moment Question one: “What kind of kiss takes your breath away?” she read. “Mine,” he answered without hesitation, with that brazen arrogance that made her smile. Marlene jotted down something random, just to see him frown. “You’re not taking this seriously.” “Of course I am. I’m waiting for the result that says I’m your destiny.” The questions grew more absurd: Do you prefer a rebellious lover or a protector? Is your ideal date under the stars or in an elegant ballroom? Sirius interrupted each one with provocative comments, leaning in closer, brushing against her arm, letting the tension build. —“What would you do if your partner challenged you to break the rules?” Marlene read. —“I’m already doing it,” he whispered, moving closer until the magazine was forgotten between them.