Work Text:
“They’re going to kill me.”
“I’m sure whatever you’ve done isn’t that bad.”
Sirius rolls his eyes down the phone, making a face at the ever so calm and collected voice of James Potter. He bites his lip, looking behind him again. He’s getting worried, and Sirius Black is hardly ever worried.
“I’ve lost Reg.”
“Lost? Like misplaced? You can’t find him?”
“No, lost as in the other lost. Of course I mean that you moron.”
James is silent for a second. “ But, aren’t you in Paris? ”
“Yes.”
“In Disneyland ?”
Sirius closes his eyes for a second. “Yes.”
“And you’ve just lost your seven year old baby brother?”
Somehow, James has the ability to make things sound ten thousand times worse. Sirius groans, and turns around again, scanning the crowds as if little Regulus will just pop out behind someone.
He’s standing slap, bang in the middle of the pathway right in front of Sleeping Beauty’s palace. Of all places, it would be in one of the busiest parts of the theme park that he loses his brother.
“Go ask a security guard or something, maybe they’ll put an announcement in for him.”
“Mum would find out, they’d want me to call her.”
“Then just ask people around you. You’re fluent, surely someone must have seen him. I would stay and talk but mum’s got me looking after the dinner. Let me know how it goes.”
“A fat load of help you are, I’m not getting you any macaroons now.”
But James has already hung up and Sirius has no choice but to let out an aggravated groan and throw the phone into his pocket. The entrance to the castle is heaving, and he keeps getting pushed around, people send him dirty looks as he takes up the space.
He needs to find Reg. And fast. Before anything happens.
He used to hate travelling to France every year to see his relatives, with a burning passion. But he supposes now, with flipping Mickey ears on his head and Regulus’s Daffy Duck backpack on his shoulders, that being pretty much fluent in the language does have its uses.
He starts off by asking random people who pass by. Have you seen a young boy, with matching mickey ears and a mickey mouse top?
He even gets out his phone, pointing helplessly to the photo they took only minutes before the little scoundrel ran off.
No one seems to have seen him.
One person does say yes, and Sirius has a few seconds of heart pounding relief before he realises that the person has no idea what he’s saying and doesn’t understand French. He asks in English, but they don’t understand that either and so he walks off feeling worse than he did before.
He asks a group of American tourists, who are deeply apologetic and then ask him if he’s from London.
Every person, to his left and right, he asks.
It becomes almost second nature to him, speaking in French and asking, rather politely but also forcefully, if they’ve seen his brother.
He’s always expecting a ‘no’, and so he’s already setting himself up for the bitter disappointment when he taps the girl in front of him, shoves his phone in her face and asks her the same question in French he’s been asking for what feels like a lifetime.
“Er , Jay swiss desu-lay. But, par-lay voo Ang-lay? ”
He blinks. The girl stares back.
He’s never heard someone butcher the French language quite like her, it’s actually an achievement and for a second he’s absolutely shocked for words. Then, despite the turmoil he’s been putting himself through and the nerves that are still wrecking at his gut, he laughs.
The poor girls stares at him in horror.
“I’m so sorry,” she cries, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I have no idea what you just said. Desu-lay .”
“It’s okay.”
She looks relieved, but now extremely embarrassed. “You’re English.”
“I am.” For a second, when he stares into her eyes, he forgets everything. He clears his throat and fiddles with the zip on his leather jacket (Regulus had rolled his eyes when Sirius had put it on this morning, saying it looked like he was in the Mafia). “So are you?”
She’s staring back, mouth half open in a daze. Then she blinks and nods her head and tucks her hair back behind her ear.
“Err yeah. English. That’s me.”
She’s got pretty eyes, and the sweetest face he’s ever seen.
God, what’s wrong with him all of a sudden?
He’s never been speechless, James says all the time that he could talk the hind legs off a donkey. So why, in front of this girl he’s literally never seen before, has he suddenly lost all ability to speak?
She reaches out, fingers fluttering against his. He sucks in a breath, he hates people touching him, but with her it’s different somehow? Her hand is warm, and oddly comforting. She takes the phone gently from him, and stares at the photo of Regulus that’s still up on the screen.
“Is this your brother?”
He nods. “Um, yeah. Regulus. I can’t find him.”
He realises with a jolt that they’re standing oddly close together. Her shoulders brush against his chest, she’s a head shorter than him at least, and he can smell the faintest hint of strawberries. What is going on?
“I haven’t seen him, I’m so sorry.” She hands the phone back to him, hands brushing against his again. He’s blushing like a little kid as she pulls her eyes away from his.
Suddenly someone is waving something in his face. “A rose! A rose for you and your girlfriend?”
Sirius takes a step back, jumping at the sudden sound and trips up over the girl’s feet. She stumbles and he has to reach out to grab hold of her shoulder, pulling her back with a grunt as she hits his chest.
“Oh, we’re not -” He starts, words failing when the flower vendor winks at them. He immediately lets go of her shoulder, and the girl is blushing as she takes a step away from him.
“Don’t deny it! You two have such chemistry!” The man, who’s holding a large bucket full of roses, doesn’t look like he’s going to leave unless he’s got a euro in his hand and suddenly he starts monologuing in French about how much the two of them look like they’re in love.
Sirius takes out his wallet immediately, slaps two euros into the man’s hand and takes the rose. Merci ’s are exchanged and the flower vendor goes off to look for his next victims.
“I’m Sirius,” he says, groaning in his head at the complete cliched feel of this whole situation. He numbly hands the rose to her and she takes it with a grin. He’s such an idiot.
“Mary.”
Mary twirls the rose between her fingers, a bashful looking smile on her lips like she’s never been given a flower before. “Thank you, it’s lovely.”
He’s smiling again, like a fool, when his phone starts ringing.
“Mother!” He tries putting on his happiest, I-haven’t-lost-my-brother voice and glances wearily in Mary’s direction. She gives him the thumbs up and it’s strange how she can reassure him so easily. “Yeah, Reg is having loads of fun! You want to talk to him? He’s err, he’s currently on a ride. Yeah. He didn’t want me to go with him, said I’d be too embarrassing. I’ll give you a call back when he’s done. Okay. Bye!”
“She is going to kill me!” He throws his phone rather murderously into Reg’s Daffy Duck bag, and grabs at his hair in mild panic.
“Do you remember where you saw him last?” Her voice sends a shiver up his spine.
“Sleeping Beauty’s castle. I turned away for a second and the little rascal had run off.”
Mary nods her head, rearranges the strap of her bag and sets off walking.
“You don’t have to come, sorry. I shouldn’t have made it your problem too-”
She shakes her head and continues to speed walk past the crowds of people. He has to jog a little to catch up and, when he’s matching her pace, slides her a curious gaze.
“You’re in Disneyland Paris, and you’d rather help a stranger find his little brother than go around on rides? Aren’t you with anyone?”
She smooths her hair back again, dodging out of the way just in time as a group of excited kids barge past them. “I was. ‘Till the knob broke up with me just as we were about to go on The Little Mermaid.”
“Ouch. That’s low. What a dick.” Then, because he has no idea what else to say, and because he’s extremely aware of her hand brushing against his as they push through the crowds, he apologises.
She laughs, saying he has nothing to be sorry for and he knows because it’s such a pet-peeve of his when people say sorry for something they didn’t do and have no power over anything in the situation.
“I’ve made up my mind, Sirius,” she says, the name rolling off her tongue as if they’ve known each other far longer than just ten minutes. “I might not be much help, but I’m going to help any way I can.”
He thinks, in the least creepiest way possible, he might love her, just a little bit.
Finally they make it back to the castle, where countless couples stand and pose for selfies, sharing kisses and candy-floss alike.
It’s packed, he overhears a group of Parisian teenagers squealing because they’ve just caught a glimpse of Gaston up ahead, and suddenly a whole swarm of giddy fans are rushing past in the hopes of finding him. People are pushing everywhere and he’s not even thinking straight as he grabs hold of Mary’s hand so he can’t lose her in the crowd.
She seems to have the same idea because their fingers meet halfway, immediately latching onto one another for dear life.
He tries to ignore the fluttery feeling in his gut, tries to ignore the fact that he’s still wearing the blasted Mickey ears that Reg forced him to wear and that he, more than likely, looks ridiculous and stupid rather than cool and sophisticated.
But all that matters is that she’s clinging onto him for dear life as the pair of them are swept into the castle.
He barely gave the castle a second glance before, when he was panicking and running around in a daze trying to find Reg. And now, with Mary by his side, their hands locked together, he realises it showcases Princess Aurora and Prince Philip's fairy tale love story.
There’s a flash of a camera, lightning up the darkened room for a second before it vanishes. The crowd’s already been and gone now, in the distance someone yells ‘Gaston!’ and there’s a cheer, but the castle’s not swarming as it once was.
A kid screams in excitement and demands to see the dragon and Sirius, who is getting sweaty palms drops Mary’s hand as casually as he can. It’s too dark in the room to tell, but he thinks he sees her flex her hand, rubbing her thumb against the inside of her fingers.
He shivers.
She stops right by the stained glass windows, the light streaming through and making her face shine with different colours. He looks around the room, forcing himself to stare at something else that’s not her.
“Do you remember anything he said? Something that would help you know where he’s gone?”
He shakes his head at her question, he honestly cannot remember anymore. It’s been almost an hour, he is officially the worst big brother in the world.
“He was just too damn excited about everything. The castle, the dragon. Seeing Goofy. I checked my phone for one second and then he was nowhere.”
“Did you see her?”
“What?”
She smiles. “The dragon. Maleficent. Did you both go to see it?”
He lets out a breath, his lungs are aching. “No.”
They’re grabbing each other’s hands again, racing off towards The Dragon’s Lair. It’s so dark underneath the castle and the two of them take out their phones, activating the torch. He gives Mary a nod and she follows close behind him as he yells out a panicked ‘ Reg! ’.
A group of five give him a funny look, but Sirius doesn’t care. He barges past them, looking in all of the nooks and crannies where a small boy of seven could fit.
“You don’t have to yell out my name!”
His mouth burns and he lets out a gasp as he turns. There Reg is, leaning against the rails like some model who’s waiting for an assistant to hand him a mocha-decaf-latte with extra cream.
“You little monster!” Sirius grabs him by his top and then pulls him close to give him a tight squeeze. “Where the hell did you run off to?”
Regulus pulls away after a few seconds, finding it highly embarrassing that his older brother is hugging him. “I told you I wanted to see the dragon,” he answers rather calmly.
Sirius blinks. “You’ve been here for the past hour?”
“Yes.” Regulus rolls his eyes. The boy glances towards Mary, who stands a little behind them. “Who’s that?”
“This is Mary-”
“Is she your girlfriend?” Regulus nods, with a wide grin, towards the rose that Mary’s still holding between her fingers. “ Sirius’s got a crush. Sirius bought a rose. ” The little scoundrel laughs and tugs at his backpack that still hangs from Sirius’s shoulders. He’s glad to get rid of the damn thing, and practically throws it into Regulus’s arms.
“Come on then,” Reg says once he’s reunited with his bag. “I want some candy-floss.” He turns towards the exit and Sirius, who is never letting his younger brother out of his sight again, tugs at Mary’s hand.
“Thank you so much,” he says as they pass the dragon and head towards the exit. “You’re actually a lifesaver.”
Mary laughs, grinning at the hyper sight of Regulus who dances and chants ‘ candy-floss ’. “He’s adorable. I’m so glad you found him.”
“ You found him. I honestly cannot thank you enough.” He scratches his neck, takes off the mickey ears and runs a hand through his hair. “Er, so what were you planning on doing now?”
She shrugs. “Nothing now that my arse of an ex has gone. You?”
“Just going around with Reg.” He swallows hard. “You could, um - you’re welcome to join us. If you wanted to, I mean. I could treat you to a coffee. As a thank you.”
“That’s code for a date,” Regulus pops his head from under Sirius’s arms, giving Mary a grin that’s so similar to his brother’s. “He’s asking you out.”
She smiles, and Sirius feels like he’s floating. “I guess my answer is yes, then.”