Chapter Text
The library was surprisingly empty when you arrived that morning. With O.W.L.s just around the corner you’d expected to struggle in finding a spare seat, but it seemed the draw of Hogsmeade had simply been too great for some to ignore.
You were in the middle of writing your Charms essay on the relatively unknown (and greatly overlooked) life of Charms Master Edwick Larikus when it happened.
Most people knew not to bother you while you were studying. It was somewhat of an unspoken rule. You were a bookworm, yes, but not one to be trifled with – that could be said of most, if not all, Slytherins. The self-proclaimed ‘Marauders’ (an idiotic name for an idiotic bunch, you thought to yourself) never put much stock in rules, be they spoken or unspoken, so it really shouldn’t have been a surprise that they would break this one too.
You didn’t look up as someone slid into the seat opposite you, though you were well aware that there were far too many empty seats for it to be a coincidence that they’d chosen that one.
For a long moment only the scratch of quill on parchment could be heard, and then he cleared his throat. You glanced up at him with a sigh.
“What do you want, Black?”
He leaned over the table, his head propped up by a hand and a small smirk on his lips.
“Have I told you how lovely you look today?”
You rolled your eyes and turned back to your work. “Yes. Twice. I’ve already told you I’m not going to Hogsmeade with you, so you can stop–”
“Forget Hogsmeade,” he interrupted, before quickly adding, “Wait, no. Don’t forget Hogsmeade. We’re still on for Hogsmeade.”
“We’re not on for anything,” you protested.
He waved an impatient hand.
“We’ll iron out the details later.”
“Black–”
“I need your help.”
Ordinarily, you wouldn’t care, but it was the way he said it that gave you pause. In all your years of sharing class with the insufferable git, you’d never seen Sirius Black so, well, serious. Nor had you seen him so earnest. There was a genuine desperation in his eyes that made something clench in your chest.
You decided to humour him.
“With what?”
He shifted in his seat, eyes darting around the room mistrustfully. “It would be best if I showed you. It’s…something best spoken about behind closed doors.”
Your eyes narrowed.
“If this is another one of your silly little pranks, Black–”
“I’ll have you know my pranks are neither silly nor little.”
“–I’ll castrate you.”
He grimaced for a moment, but the threat clearly didn’t have the intended effect because his lips quickly curled into a sinful smile.
“If you want to put your hands down my pants, darling, go right ahead. I won’t stop you.”
Your jaw clenched at the image his words conjured in your mind, and you felt heat creep up the back of your neck. Though you’d never admit it, it was a thought you’d entertained in the past. A moment of weakness, you reminded yourself, nothing more. Nothing serious, nothing substantial. You’d never really encourage his advances or make any of your own. Definitely not, you thought vehemently.
But then…you remembered the way he looked the previous year when Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup and he’d stripped his jersey off in celebration like those hooligans you saw at the football. Only, Sirius Black was a far cry from hooligans at the football, and the way his trousers had hung so low on his hips…in that single moment of weakness, you’d imagined slipping your hand beneath the waistband of those trousers and…
With a quick flick of your wand, the books splayed across your table snapped shut and shot back to their respective shelves.
“Wha–? Hang on a minute,” Black spluttered as you snatched your things up and made for the door. “Oh, come on, I was kidding!”
He called your name as you slipped into the hallway, and you just knew he’d give chase. Didn’t he always? Sweet Salazar. He was almost as bad as Potter.
“Wait!” he huffed, finally matching your stride. “Bloody hell, you walk fast…”
When you shot him an irritated look, he quickly smiled. “Just another thing I admire about you.”
“You’re full of it, Black.” You rolled your eyes as you waited for the moving staircases to align.
“Admiration? I know. I’ve been telling you all year.” He raced down the stairs beside you, not caring for any oncoming traffic. You’re sure you’d seen a first-year Ravenclaw almost topple over the railing to make room for him. “Where are we going?”
“To the dungeons–” Sirius’s nose scrunched up in disgust “–so I can put my things away. And then you’re going to show me what’s got you in a tizzy.”
His smile was blinding.
James Potter tried to lift his head when you entered the boy’s dormitory, but the weight of his bloody antlers prevented him from doing so.
You frowned. After being smuggled into the Gryffindor common room – under an invisibility cloak no less – you’d expected something more serious than a jinx gone wrong. Idiots they may have been, but they were proficient idiots at the very least. You knew they were more than capable of reversing a simple jinx.
Only, it wasn’t a simple jinx – something you quickly discovered after Potter launched into a tale about animagi and transformations gone wrong. You were perched on the edge of his mattress, eyeing his messy bedhead as he finished up.
“Your stupidity never ceases to amaze me, Potter. It’s almost impressive.”
“Thank you!” he chirped.
“Why am I here?” You sighed.
“The only other option was Professor McGonagall. You’re the best there is at transfiguration,” answered Remus, and you all collectively ignored Sirius’s boast of: ‘my girl, so clever!’
“This kind of magic is complex. There’s a reason animagi are so rare.” A proud look bloomed on Sirius’s face at that. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet since you’d filed into the room, opting to lean, arms crossed, against one of the posts of Potter’s bed. You’d find the way he silently watched you unnerving had you not been so absorbed in Potter’s story.
“Transfiguration won’t help here. You’ll need to try the Homorphus charm.”
“Homorphus?” Remus asked with a frown. “I’ve never heard of it.” Which was saying something.
“It’s not in the Standard Book of Spells because students aren’t supposed to know it. It’s something they teach Aurors to help catch unregistered animagi.”
“Then how are we supposed to try it?” asked Sirius.
“Simple,” you said, meeting his eye for the first time since you’d sat down. “You find Pifflitt’s Guide to Advanced Spellcasting in the restricted section of the library. I imagine it won’t be too difficult for you what with your cloak and all.”
“I’m sorry, whose guide to what?”
“Honestly. How you do so well in class while being an utter moron is astounding, Black.”
James snorted a laugh. “I tell him the same thing all the time!”
“Ah yes, the perfect pot to his kettle.”
This time it was Sirius’s turn to laugh, and you ignored James’s indignant ‘hey!’ as you stood.
“If that’s all, I’d best be going–”
“Hey, wait a minute!” James protested. “You can’t leave. We need that book before class tomorrow.”
“Then I suggest you get a move on.”
“If you could just show us where it is, I promise we won’t bother you for the rest of the year,” said Remus, much to Sirius’s obvious outrage. You pursed your lips in thought.
“You won’t bother any of my housemates for the rest of the year.”
“The week,” Sirius interjected.
“The month,” you fired back. “Or no deal.”
You and Sirius stared at each other for a long moment, completely oblivious to the looks being exchanged between Remus and James.
You arched a brow, and he narrowed his eyes.
“Fine,” he relented with a displeased huff. “One month.”
“Great!” said James. “Sirius will meet you outside the Slytherin Common Room after curfew–”
“Why can’t Lupin meet me instead?” you quickly interjected. The last thing you needed was a night spent dealing with Sirius Black – you’d already given him your day.
“I’ve got patrol tonight,” Remus answered with a sympathetic look, almost as if he’d read your mind.
“Pettigrew then?”
The poor boy, who’d taken to reading a muggle comic on his bed, looked like a deer in headlights when your eyes turned to him.
“Nah, not Pete,” said James, and Peter visibly deflated in relief. “I need him here to cover in case someone comes to the door.”
“Well, why can’t Black do that?” you asked with a frown.
James and Remus shared a look.
“He’s easily distracted.”
“He’ll get lost,” they said at once.
How they managed to keep a straight face after sprouting such rubbish excuses, you had no idea. You pinched the bridge of your nose.
“Fine. Then I’ll go on my own.”
“Not bloody likely.” James snorted. “If you think I’m letting you use my cloak unsupervised you’re mad!”
By the time curfew rolled around, you’d already snuck out of the girl’s dormitory, waving away concerned housemates who wanted to know if you needed someone to accompany you to the hospital wing after the ‘sudden bout of illness’ you’d lied about.
Sirius Black looked entirely too jolly for this late hour, and you soon realised why.
The cloak hadn’t been made for two, and that meant you had to ‘stay close’ or ‘risk getting caught’, according to Sirius. You thought it was complete rubbish when he’d first said it, and he’d only confirmed as much the moment he plastered his lean chest to your back and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep the cloak from ‘riding up’ and ‘exposing your feet’.
Your silly, traitorous heart thundered in your chest at his proximity. You really needed to put a stop to that. But his soft breath hit your neck with each step (if you could call the awkward shuffling you were both doing steps), and his arm seemed to tighten each time you tried to put a bit of space between you. He must have picked up on it and huffed a laugh against your neck.
“Most girls would kill to be in your position, you know.”
You did know. You’d heard it all before. How exceptional a kisser he was, how soft his hair felt, how funny and charming and irresistible.
“Silly bints, the lot of them.”
And you really meant that. Because you’d see the same girls in the lavatory a week later crying about how he’d broken their hearts. There was a reason you didn’t return his apparent affection. Loyalty was just a word to Sirius Black, and you had no intention of becoming the next silly bint he left in tears.
“To be fair, most boys would kill to be in mine.”
Your elbow caught him in the ribs, and he grunted.
“Can you please just shut up and keep moving? At this rate, we won’t make it to the library before breakfast.”
Mrrreow…
The sound echoed through the empty hallway, and though you couldn’t see her, you knew one false move and she would see you.
“Oh, great. Just what we needed,” you huffed.
That blasted squib had bought her over the summer. Mrs Norris, he called her, and you’d never met a more unlikeable cat in all your life.
“I hate that cat.”
“Shut up, Black. We’re going to get caught and it’s going to be all your fault.”
“My fault?” he asked incredulously. “What did I do?”
You didn’t bother with an answer. “Just get rid of it, will you?”
“And how exactly do you propose I do that? Just stay still and she won’t spot us. Trust me.”
He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, there was something calculating in his voice that you weren’t sure you liked.
“Will you come to Hogsmeade with me?”
“What? No.”
“Fine.”
You gasped as a hand pushed you forward, and you felt the cloak slip away entirely. You shot back around to scold him, only to realise that he wasn’t there. Of course he wasn’t, he still had the cloak!
“Black!” you hissed, glancing over your shoulder in panic as the meows drew closer. “This isn’t funny! Let me back under.”
A soft orange glow appeared from down the hallway along with a distant murmur. “What is it, my sweet, have you found something?”
Oh, Salazar. If Filch found you out of bed you’d be cleaning the lavatory floors for a month.
“I’m serious, Black – don’t even think about cracking a joke right now.”
Your heart was racing, and at this point you could hear the creaking of Filch’s old lantern as he drew nearer. It was the only sound that could be heard, and for a single terrifying moment you wondered if Sirius had actually left you there to fend for yourself. It certainly wouldn’t surprise you.
Except, well, it would, wouldn’t it? He’d been trying to win you over all year (for reasons unknown, though you’d eliminated the possibility of it being a bet when he’d punched Rosier in the face for insulting your hair last month). His dislike of Slytherins was something he broadcast to the rest of the school on a daily basis, so they were just as confused as you were when his attention suddenly turned to you. Surely, he’d know that letting you get caught like this would set him back miles. He’d never get a date out of you.
A date, you thought. Oh, damn it all!
“Fine. Alright? Fine! I’ll go to bloody Hogsmeade with you. Just let me back under!”
And just like that his arms were around you again, and the room was cast in the warm glow of Filch’s lantern. Sirius’s hand smothered your gasp, and you watched, wide-eyed, as Filch’s twitching eyes slowly scanned the room. The moment seemed to stretch on for an eternity before the caretaker finally scowled and turned on his heel.
“Not this time, my love,” he droned.
It wasn’t until he was entirely out of sight and the hallway was thrown back into darkness, that you allowed your head to fall back onto Sirius’s chest in relief. You took a deep steadying breath and felt his hand slowly slip away from your mouth.
“Well,” he whispered against the shell of your ear, “that was exciting.”
There was a spring in his step when he got back to the Gryffindor common room, the book in hand and a roguish grin on his lips. He passed the book off to a very amused Remus before throwing himself onto his bed with a satisfied sigh.
“I take it things went well then,” James huffed a laugh. “Had us worried for a second there, Pads. You were gone for ages.”
Sirius couldn’t contain himself. He turned onto his side to face the boys. “Guess who’s got a date to Hogsmeade.”
Remus, who’d busied himself with searching for the Homorphus charm, looked up in shock. “She said yes?”
Sirius shot him a dirty look. “Don’t sound too surprised, Moony. And as for taking ages, we very nearly got caught by Filch and that bloody cat of his.”
“Why didn’t you check the map?” asked James. “You took it with you!”
Sirius looked at him as if he was an idiot.
“Not only would I be revealing trade secrets to someone who ought not know about them, Prongs, but I’d also be throwing away the only excuse I had to get nice and cosy under the cloak. Merlin, it’s no wonder you haven’t made any progress with Evans – you have to think these things through!” he chided.
James blinked and then made a face as if to say: well, he has a point.
Remus shook his head with a smile. “I’m happy for you, Sirius. And hey, it’s only a month, I’m sure it’ll fly by.”
What? What did that have to do with…oh.
Sirius fell back onto his bed with a groan. A whole bloody month!
Remus laughed.