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pasukiyo · 7 months

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YOU'RE ALWAYS GONNA BE MINE

| CHAPTER TWO

a royalty au. remus lupin x princess!reader. multi-part series. series masterlist.

word count; 5,581 summary; she never was able to speak to sirius. the king and queen confront her about her behavior but it only ends up blowing up in her face, leaving her feeling worse than when she started. she convinces marlene to let her sneak away so she can clear her head, so she can think... remus doesn't understand what it is he's feeling in the presence of this strange woman...

so even in a different life, you still would've been mine, we would've been timeless...

She never got a chance to speak with Sirius alone after brunch. Her mother and father, however, appeared to have noticed her silence during the meal and as soon as Lord Sirius had passed through the palace’s front gates, all eyes were on the princess. It was hours since her father had dropped the news that Prince James was who she was set to marry, the sky already beginning to bruise like violets.

“You’ve been silent all day, my dear,” the King acknowledged his daughter as the two palace guards standing at the entrance moved to close the doors behind them. “It is unlike you.”

“Yes, are you feeling alright, darling?” Her mother asked, sliding her arm out from her husband’s to lay the back of her hand on the princess’ forehead. “You aren’t coming down with a cold, are you?”

She shook her head and delicately wrapped her thumb and forefinger around her mother’s wrist, guiding it off of her head. “I feel fine, mother,” she replied, her throat feeling raw and scratchy, this having been the first time she had talked in hours. The King cocked an eyebrow, “but there is something on your mind, no?”

Her father was perceptive– she supposed he had to be, he was the ruler of a kingdom, after all. He had many enemies and many people who only wished they could be considered his enemy, it was only natural that he’d pick up on others’ behavior and mannerisms. But she hated that he could read her like this– how was she supposed to tell him how she felt when she knew he’d never understand?

The indent between her father’s brow deepened and she flushed, feeling her skin grow warm from the pressure of her parents’ eyes on her. There was no way out– and despite knowing all too well anything she said would blow right back up in her face, she took a deep breath, and spoke.

“You speak to Siri– Lord Sirius– about my betrothal, asking him what he thinks about the prince, what he thinks about me marrying Prince James… but what about what I think?” She spoke as calmly and as clearly as she could, a stark contrast from the typhoon swirling her mind. The King and Queen shared a glance, incredulous expressions on their faces, as if what she was asking was entirely preposterous.

“What you think?” The Queen reiterated, an eyebrow cocked to her hairline. The princess’ patience was wearing thin, her composure wearing thinner. “Why could I not have a say in my own marriage? Why couldn’t I have a voice in the decision?” She asked, hoping her parents could somehow find reason. “It is my life, does my opinion not matter?”

Her father reared back, her mother’s arm tightening around his, her other hand coming to rest on his shoulder, his name slipping from her lips in hopes to tame the fire bound to ignite within. The King pressed his lips together and breathed in through his nose, his breath sharp, hot.

“Has my daughter become so selfish that she is unable to feel grateful for everything I have done for her?” He hissed, his words like acid, tone laced with venom and she trembled where she stood, flinching at every syllable he spat. “You are princess, you should feel proud that such a young, wealthy, powerful suitor has even agreed to wed you,” he scoffed and shook his head. “Have you no honor? No shame?”

The princess grew wide-eyed— she’d seen her father angry before but never had she been in the line of fire, not like this. This was different, this was frightening.

“This is your destiny,” he continued on. “You’ve known it from the very first time you opened your eyes, you blinked, you cried, you breathed.”

Her vision blurred, a dagger prodding at the inside of her head. She knew this would happen, but it didn’t help the sting hurt any less. There was a lump in her throat the size of a boulder and she suddenly felt heavy, despite how badly she wished to run and hide. Her father’s rage seemed to only grow at the sight of her tears and her mother practically was his only anchor now, his hand not enveloped in the Queen’s rolling until it formed a shaking ball of fury.

“Whatever this, this attitude of yours is, it’d do you well to rid yourself of it,” his voice cracked like thunder in the grand room, her teeth chattering at the sheer power of her father. “No man, let alone a prince, wants a woman with such emotion.”

Her bottom lip quivered and she felt a droplet of a tear drip down her cheek but frankly, she couldn’t quite bring herself to care— let her parents think of her as a child. This wasn’t fair, this wasn’t even humane— royal traditions be damned.

Her father stepped closer, despite her mother’s attempt to soothe him and pull him away. “Go to your quarters. I don’t want to see these tears when I see you again.”

And then her parents were off, Peter close behind on their heels but not before peering at the princess from over his shoulder, face twisted in a sneer. Marlene’s wary footsteps echoed through the hall as she cautiously approached, the princess sniffling as she desperately tried to wipe the evidence of tears away from her cheeks, only for fresh ones to fall.

“Princess?” Marlene asked carefully, trying to catch her gaze. The princess shook her head, “let’s go.”

She brushed past the handmaiden, heart thrumming against her rib cage as they made their way up the staircase of the castle and down the corridor towards her quarters. The guard bowed his head and pushed open her bedroom door, stepping aside to let them in. She shuffled her feet to the middle of her bedroom, an arm crossed over her belly, her opposite elbow balancing on it, her fingers to her lips. The familiar haze of tears clouded her vision and burned her sockets, as soon as she heard the click of her bedroom door closing shut, she burst.

“P…princess?” Marlene was swift to jog her way towards the princess, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and trying to meet her gaze. The princess’ body quaked with the force of her sobs and Marlene walked the both of them over to her bed, steadily easing her down onto the mattress. She collapsed into Marlene’s chest as soon as she was set on the bed, all her frustration, anger, emotion, everything streaming out of her like rivers down her cheeks.

“Oh, Marls,” she hiccuped, wiping the tears and snot from her face with the back of her hand, peering up at the handmaiden. “You must think I’m mental.”

“No!” Marlene was quick to shake her head, her arm squeezing around the princess’ body. “No, of course not!”

Marlene’s hands soothed up and down the length of the princess’ arm in hopes to calm her, resting the side of her face against the top of her head. “It just isn’t fair,” the princess wept, “why must I marry a man I don’t love? A man I have never even seen? Why can’t… why can’t they understand I just want my freedom?”

Marlene pressed her lips together and gulped down the bubble in her throat, unable to come up with the words that may soothe her. Truthfully, Marlene hadn’t the slightest clue what she could do or say to make the princess feel better– she wasn’t a princess and she’d never be a princess, so what did she know?

She did, however, relate in some strange way to the princess about wanting freedom, about wishing to live a life on her own accord. In a sense, Marlene wished for it too, but don’t we all?

She settled on a soft, “I don’t know,” instead, giving the princess’ upper arm a squeeze. “But I do know that you are strong, highness. And you are smart and you are so kind. The best person I’ve ever known,” Marlene’s lips curved into a soft smile as the princess blinked up at her through glassy eyes, wiping at her nose. “And I know that no matter what happens, nothing will change that. And I will always be here for you, no matter what.”

She sniffled at Marlene’s words, leaning in closer to her handmaiden in a hug, wrapping her arms around her waist. “Thank you, Marls,” she murmured, her tears falling no longer, but her cheeks swollen and sticky from their remnants. “I just… I want to… think. I want to be alone.”

Marlene was quick to unravel herself from the princess, pushing herself up off of the mattress. “I can leave, if you wish—“

“No!” The princess grabbed Marlene’s arm, tugging her back down on the bed beside her. “I mean I want… I want to leave the castle, just for a little while.”

Marlene’s face twisted in confusion, her brow furrowed as she shook her head. “But princess, you aren’t allowed to leave—“

“I know,” the princess interrupted before she could finish and grabbed the handmaiden’s hands, gazing up at her with wide, hopeful eyes. “Which is why I want you to cover for me.”

“C…cover for—! Princess, I beg your pardon?” Marlene stammered out, clearly taken aback. The princess jutted her bottom lip out in a pout and whined, shaking the handmaid's hands, “please, Marlene, I need to get out of here, just for an… an hour or two.”

Marlene opened and closed her mouth, blinking rapidly, trying and failing to speak. “I– I don’t know, princess, I mean…” She stopped to release a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “How am I supposed to keep Peter off your trail for two hours?”

“Just… distract the guard outside while I sneak past and tell him I’ve gone to sleep,” the princess replied. Marlene cocked an eyebrow once again, “but Peter knows you’re never asleep this early.”

The princess deflated, the hopeful glint in her eye still there but dull. Marlene sucked on her bottom lip— she knew she couldn’t resist much longer. “Please, Marls,” the princess softly begged, squeezing the handmaid’s fingers. “Just for a little while?”

Marlene sighed and dropped her head— it was pointless to resist much further. “Fine,” she agreed, to which the princess practically leaped from the bed, scampering towards the closet to grab her cloak, “but you will be back in two hours time, yes?”

“Of course!” She replied, tossing her cloak over her head to veil her face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She beamed as she and Marlene made their way to the door, the handmaid’s hand shaky where it rested on the handle. “ What do I say again?” She asked, to which the princess grinned. “Tell him I’ve gone to sleep and don’t wish to be disturbed— I’ll be sneaking off to the right, so just make sure he cannot see.”

Marlene’s chest heaved when she inhaled a deep breath, pursing her lips together and nodding. “Okay,” she breathed, the affirmation more for herself. She twisted the handle and stepped outside, leaving the door wide open whilst she stepped to the left of the guard. He didn’t move his head.

“Excuse me?” Marlene murmured, the guard finally turning to meet her gaze. The princess’ heart thrummed against her chest— this was her chance.

“The princess is awfully tired,” she could hear Marlene say as she crept past behind the guard, looking down both ways of the corridor to ensure the coast was completely clear. “She’s gone to sleep for the night. She requested that she not be disturbed— she needs her… beauty sleep.”

The princess bit back a snicker as she bound down the corridor, sticking to the shadows as she approached the staircase, her footsteps careful and calculated.

“If I may, your majesty, it is all in the child’s nature.”

She halted and stared wide-eyed down the staircase as her parents and Peter pranced by, a furrow in either the Queen and the King’s brow. Peter, of course, still snorted his usual sneer.

“To rebel? It is unlike her. She is princess, she knows better than this,” her father replied and she gripped the end of her cloak, sinking down to the floor to make herself smaller, praying she would not be seen. Peter snorted, “‘unlike her?’” Forgive me, your majesty, but I am not surprised even in the slightest.”

She couldn’t resist the urge to roll her eyes in her head as they walked by, their voices clear but with every second that went by, becoming more distant, an echo until she heard the opening and closing of a door. Swiftly, she tip-toed her way down the rest of the stairs and made a run for the doors to the garden, bursting out the doors. She sprinted her way towards the Owlery for a lantern before circling her way behind the building, lifting her skirt to hop the fence behind. The trees creaked and bent in the wind as she pushed her way further into its darkness, the forest beckoning her forth, inviting her in.

It was an invitation she graciously accepted.

It was happening again.

Remus clawed at his chest, fingernails ripping through the fabric of his chest, tearing through his skin as he howled in pain. His heart was throwing itself against his ribcage, his skin on fire where his nails had torn through flesh, dark liquid oozing from the wounds. Bile bubbled at the base of his throat and his lips fell agape as he retched, burning vomit tumbling past his mouth and right onto the forest floor.

His chest was heaving to the unsteady beat of his breathing, unable to stop himself from shaking. He outstretched an arm and reached, reached for anything he could find to steady himself. Through the blurriness of his vision, he could just make out the silhouette of a tree in front of him and he leaned forward with the intention of catching himself on the trunk. His breath caught in his throat when instead of grasping onto the bark, he continued falling until his face was smashed against the foliage below.

He grunted as he managed to at least pull himself up into a sitting position, leaning back against the trunk of the tree as he panted, sweat beading down his face. His flesh stung and ached where his nails had ripped off skin, dried maroon underneath his nails and blood streaming down from the wounds on his chest. He clawed at the ground, tugging weeds from the ground and digging through mud, desperate to anchor himself on something.

Remus’ head spun and it felt like a knife was slashing thousands of cuts into his brain, leaving him broken and aching. He’d dealt with this condition for years now, almost for his entire life but this… this was some of the worst pain he’d ever felt. There was no way to prepare himself for the next bout of pain.

His vision was blurring and he could feel his body slipping as his consciousness, too, slipped in and out of the state of knowing. Remus felt so tired, his limbs feeling as though they weighed like boulders, his head slipping from the support of the tree. He coughed and wheezed as bile burned his throat, an awful aftertaste on his tongue from his last retching session. His breath grew slower as it slipped through the cracks of his chapped lips, his eyelids falling heavy over his eyes as he dropped to the floor of the forest, chasing that moment where all the pain would cease, when he felt nothing, when he could feel numb…

“Dear Gods! Are you… are you awake?”

Remus stirred and furrowed his brow, using the most of his energy to snap his heavy eyelids back open, a blinding, orange light stabbing his eyes. The ache in his head exploded and he lifted a heavy arm to shield his face away from the light, needles pricking his abdomen as he tried and failed to get himself up.

“Who… who’s there?” He managed to croak out, his voice husky and his throat dry. He tried to swipe his tongue between his chapped lips whilst the person before him dropped to their knees in front of him. “Merlin! You’re bleeding…” the voice muttered and Remus opened his lids just in time to see hands reaching for his shoulders, to which his heart pounded and his feet kicked out, his muscles screaming at him as he pushed away by instinct.

The woman in front of him gasped and pulled away, a careful hand in the air, her brow wrinkled in caution. Remus pressed his lips together and breathed through his nostrils as he blinked the haziness away from his vision, narrowing his eyes at her. “Who are you?” He managed to ask, to which the woman reached for the torn fabric of his shirt, carefully though, warily testing the waters. Remus glanced down at her hand where the top of his forefinger delicately prodded at the shirt, silently seeking permission to take a look.

He looked up to meet her gaze again and said nothing.

She took this as an invitation.

She grimaced at the sight of his grisly state while she pushed his torn shirt further open, slowly so as to not cause him any more pain. “Were you attacked?” She peered back up at him and he warily narrowed his eyes once more. “It doesn’t matter. And you never answered my question,” he replied, to which she rolled her eyes and scoffed. “I believe there are more pressing matters at hand than introductions.”

Remus eyed the woman as she inspected his wounds, his chest still heaving with his erratic breathing that was slowly but surely calming down, as if the mere presence of this woman was enough to soothe the aching inside of him. Remus didn’t understand it, but he’d allow it for now. Anything to relieve this pain.

His gaze trailed down her arms, covered by the sleeves of her dress, the fabric unlike anything he’d ever seen the women in the village wear before. The dress was midnight blue and lengthy, fitted perfectly to her body. He stared curiously back up at her— the only plausible explanation he could come up with was this woman was rich. Perhaps even royally rich?

Remus tilted his head as his gaze once again reached the woman’s face. “Are you done staring?” Came Remus’ raspy voice and the woman leaned back, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she considered his state. “You did this to yourself?” She asked, nodding her head towards his fingers where they burrowed themselves into the ground, dried crimson and mud just visible in the glow of the lantern light. Remus shrugged, “itchy.”

She cocked an eyebrow at this, “itchy?”

Remus pressed his lips together in a tight grin, feeling his stomach flipping as another wave of nausea rushed over him. It must’ve shown on his face for the woman was already in action, reaching out to soothe her palm over his shoulder. “Are you going to be sick? You’re awfully pale,” she asked as he doubled over, arms crossed over his stomach. “Just… move,” Remus managed out, using what very little strength he had left to push her away as his sick scattered the forest floor, the familiar burn of acid in the back of his mouth making him gag.

Much to his surprise, she didn’t scamper off into the darkness of the woods, didn’t gag or throw up herself, didn’t even grimace. Instead, she kept a palm between his shoulder blades, making circles on his back to calm him. And again, much to his surprise, it seemed to work.

Remus fell back against the tree trunk once again, staring up at the night sky through hazy vision, using the back of his hand to wipe the sick from his mouth. His lips fell agape as he chased air back into his lungs, rubbing his hands on the ground to get the vomit off of them. A moment of silence fell between the two as Remus fought to catch his breath, his huffing gradually becoming quieter as the time ticked on.

Eventually, she shuffled in closer, pulling at the ripped fabric of his shirt. “Let me clean your wounds,” she murmured as Remus glanced down at her fingertips where they delicately touched his chest. He watched as she looked around, presumably for anything she could use to wipe the blood from his skin.

Remus cleared his throat before speaking, “I’ve a handkerchief in my pocket.”

Their eyes met for a brief moment before she cautiously reached for the pocket of his pants, pulling the flimsy rag from them. She wrinkled her brow as she brought it closer to the lantern light, “you’ve blood all over it.”

Remus coughed as the woman sighed, softly cursing beneath her breath as she grabbed the end of her skirt, bringing the dark blue material to his chest. He flinched when she gently dabbed the lux fabric against the scratch marks, his fingers instinctively locking around her wrist to halt her movements. For a moment, her eyes widened and she leaned back, giving him a once-over before meeting his gaze once more.

“Did I press too hard?” She asked and he closed his eyes, breathing a sigh through his nostrils. “It’s still tender,” he hoarsely replied and she flashed a sheepish, tight-lipped grin. “Sorry.”

She leaned forward with the fabric in hand once again, dabbing at his wounds with delicacy, and Remus could feel saliva begin to build at the base of his throat. This was strange.

Before him was a woman he’d never seen in his life, touching him a way he’d never been touched before. Never has he felt such delicacy, like he was fragile and prone to break by the smallest of touches. The closest he could recall was the way his mother would hold him when he was very little, at least, before he’d been bitten.

He shivered at the woman’s slightest of touches and in spite of how much he didn’t want to, he liked it.

Remus studied the woman’s face as she narrowed her eyes in concentration for the task at hand, her teeth sunken into her bottom lip. His eyes trailed down to the arms of her opulent gown until they reached her fingertips where she clutched a wad of her skirt, the rich material of her dress tainted with his blood.

“That’s a pretty dress,” he remarked. “S’ a shame my blood is dirtying it.”

The woman rolled her eyes, “curse this dress. Your life is more important.”

Remus cocked an eyebrow and stared curiously up at her, tilting his head just the slightest to catch her eye. Her irises sparkled in the marmalade glow of the lantern light and she turned to meet his stare, seemingly flushing beneath his gaze. “What?” She spoke from the back of her throat, her motions on his chest momentarily coming to a stop.

“That dress is unlike anything I’ve ever seen any of the women in the village wear,” he noted and she leaned further back on her heels, sucking the inside of her cheek between her molars. “It’s something I’d expect the royals to wear.”

The woman huffed and leaned back in to continue her work on his wounds, pressing her lips together, saying nothing. Her eyes narrowed in a glare as if she hated the blood, his chest, his torn shirt, everything about him and this situation. And that was all the confirmation Remus needed to know.

“So you are from the castle,” he scoffed and her glare reached his eyes. “Thought princesses weren’t allowed to leave their tower.”

She seemed taken aback that he was able to catch on so quickly but still continued her cleanup, a sigh slipping past her lips. “They’re not,” she replied lowly. The corner of Remus’ mouth twitched in the makings of a smirk, “so what are you doing out here at dusk, majesty?”

She pressed her hand down just a bit harder on his chest and Remus pressed his lips together, squeezing his lids shut as he grunted, a furrow in his brow when he opened his eyes again. “Don’t call me that,” she hissed, pulling away from his chest and leaning back to sit on her bum, arms crossed over her chest and fingers tugging at her cloak. “And what does it matter to you?” She asked as Remus used his palms as leverage to push himself up higher against the tree trunk, lolling his head against the bark.

“S’ just not everyday you see a princess out in the middle of the woods,” he replied. “Especially in the dark.”

She glowered at him before turning away again, fixing her cloak on her shoulders. “I needed to get away,” she said after a moment, glimpsing back over to where he sat. Remus’ lips slightly fell apart when he cocked an eyebrow, almost finding it within himself to laugh. “You needed to get away?” He reiterated, nodding his head towards her. She gave him an incredulous look, pursing her lips together.

“Yes?”

Now Remus really wanted to laugh. He scoffed, “and what could you possibly be running away from, your royal highness?”

Her bottom lip wobbled and she turned away again, chest heaving with the weight of her huff. Her lids narrowed over her eyes as she glared into the darkness, “perhaps I’d tell you but you clearly wouldn’t understand.”

A rumble of protest emitted from his throat and he couldn’t suppress the urge to smile, sarcasm laced in every feature. “Oh, sure, you know what? You’re right, your royal majesty, of course a poor village boy like me wouldn’t understand what you are going through. But I’m sure it is most daunting, whatever it is.”

The princess threw her arms down in frustration, her pupils the background for the raging fire reflecting in her eyes, the flame in the lantern a mere interpretation of what was really raging inside of her. Remus found this amusing and it was written all over his face, the scars on his nose twitching as he fought the urge to laugh.

“Don’t say such foolish things!” She shrilled, looking ready to get up and walk away. On one hand, Remus was perfectly fine with that. But there was something on the other wanting to anchor her down, to tell her to stay. Remus frowned at the feeling. “You’d never understand it,” she muttered, shaking her head as she fell limp against the tree across from his.

Remus’ heart relaxed in his chest and up until this point, he hadn’t even realized it had been pounding. He eased himself further back against the tree behind him, burrowing his teeth into his bottom lip to keep himself from grinning.

“And you’d never understand my condition,” he responded. “So let’s not try and act like we’d understand one another.”

She snapped her head towards him and let her vision wander over his slumped figure. “Fine then,” she clicked her tongue and turned away again, letting another silence blanket over the two of them. Remus was quick to tear it away, however, “gods, are all you royals so uptight?”

The princess’ jaw clenched and she whipped her head over to him again, eyes wide in their sockets. “I am not uptight!” She protested, tightening her grip on either of her arms. “What makes you think I am?”

Remus’ mouth twitched, “you’re acting so defensive.”

“I…” she hesitated to breathe. “…am not!”

Remus raised his eyebrows, “relax, majesty, do they not raise you to have a sense of humor?” Her chest heaved as she breathed, her cheeks growing warm as she deflated back into the tree behind her again.

Silence again.

And then, “are you sure you were just itchy?”

Remus blinked over at the princess, her expression softer now as she eyed his wounds. “I’m sorry I couldn’t dress them, but I don’t have anything and I don’t know how to—“

“You did fine, your majesty,” he intercepted, ignoring the look she gave him at the name. “And…”

Remus couldn’t tell her about his condition. In any other case, it would’ve been easy to lie, to tell someone off for even asking about it. But it was different now— there was something in him telling him that he didn’t want to lie to her. Whether or not that is just because she’s a princess, he doesn’t know. What he did know— and did not particularly appreciate— was his heart was slamming its fist against his ribcage again, thundering in his ears.

Remus swallowed the lump in his throat back down.

“…yes,” he continued at last. “I’m just… I’ve been sick and sometimes I just… get uncontrollably itchy.”

Remus usually prided himself on being a good liar, but this had to be his worst performance to date. He was grimacing at himself as her face twisted in an unconvinced frown.

She knew there was something he wasn’t telling her. He knew she knew.

“…hm,” she hummed. “Well, it’s like you said, ‘let’s not try and act like we understand each other,’ right?” Remus blinked over at her, a small sense of relief washing over him. Thankfully, she was brushing the subject off.

“Right,” he replied, inhaling a deep breath as she studied him. Remus tilted his head until their gazes could meet, and the princess blinked away, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth.

“So… do you come to the forest often?” She asked, grimacing at her own question, searching the ground for any place she could look but at him as she played with her fingers. Remus shrugged, “usually only when I… get like this,” he replied. “It’s the only place I can really be truly alone.”

She blinked and cocked an eyebrow, “when you get like this? Do you get sick often?”

Remus shrugged in response and she sighed, “well, I hope I am not intruding on your alone time,” she remarked and Remus could feel a smile twitching at his lips. Gods, he was acting so strange. He’d only just met the woman, so why was he acting like a smitten fool?

“Not really,” he replied. “Your company isn’t all that unpleasant.”

She breathed a laugh through her nose, “lovely.”

She tapped her fingers against her knees and gnawed at the inside of her cheek. Remus wanted to look away but found that he couldn’t. His heartbeat thundered throughout his body and rattled his bones like an earthquake the longer he stared, the longer she stayed. There was something about this girl, he thought, there had to be.

Was it the way she seemed to stick out like a star in the night sky in the darkness of the forest? Was it the way her mere presence seemed to calm him, to soothe the lycanthropy inside his body? Was it the way she had touched him earlier, as if he were delicate, as if he were the most precious treasure she’d ever seen? Was it the way her dress fit to every curve of her hips, the way she carried herself with casual elegance and grace? Was it the way she looked at him, the way she studied him as if she were laying him out spread and open like a novel, reading through every single one of his pages to figure out his story?

Remus wasn’t certain. But he found himself being pulled towards her as if she were a magnet and he was iron. It was like he couldn’t push her away even though he wanted to. Pushing people away was all he’d ever known— he’d pushed his father away, the village away, his mother away. Sirius never let him push him away so he stayed— and he got the sense the princess would do the same.

Sirius. Sirius knew the royal family, in fact, he’d been over at the castle earlier today. Perhaps he could ask him about her later.

“I best get going before I have an army searching for me. Will I see you again?”

Remus blinked hard once, twice, thrice, breaking himself away from his thoughts as he stared over to where she sat, head tilted and waiting. He thought back to the question she had asked him before and blinked again.

She was planning on seeing him again?

Somehow, Remus felt like that wasn’t the most terrible idea in the world. The notion that he wanted to see her again almost made him nauseous— why couldn’t he push her away just like everyone else?

Remus pressed his lips together the longer he gazed at her figure as she rose from the forest floor, brushing dirt and twigs from her skirt. “I feel like I could ask you the same question,” he replied and her hair fell over her face as she bit back a smile, but it didn’t stop it from reaching her eyes.

Remus’ heart skipped a beat in his chest and he swore he could feel his stomach do a somersault.

“I plan on it…” she paused, the phantom of an unknown name on the tip of her tongue.

So Remus finished her sentence for her.

“Remus.”

Her teeth released her lips to release the smile she’d been holding back, “…Remus.”

a/n; sorry for the delay but AHHH here's chapter two!! i hope it doesn't feel too rushed, i'm not sure how i feel about the second half of this one though... but nevertheless, i hope you all enjoyed this chapter! another reminder to fill out the taglist form in my pinned post or comment on any chapter of this series to be added to the taglist!

TAGLIST !!

@cancelledkaley

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@strangerfromketterdam

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#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin au #remus lupin #harry potter #wizarding world #harry potter fandom #harry potter imagine #remus lupin royalty au #marauders era #marauders #sirius black #james potter

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ladyvesuvia · 3 years

Text

Moniker Origin

PAIRING: Sirius Black x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

SUMMARY: Befriending a stray dog not only leads to a routine rendezvous every midnight but also the story of how Sirius got one of his many names.

WORDS: 5.5k

WARNING(S): Just fluff but involves cursing, name-calling, nicknames, mentions of celebrities/characters from the 70s, mentions of eating and food. || SECOND PERSON

A/N: can u tell this is kind of an indirect prequel to i’m a dreamer hsjsiw anyway i hope u like it!!! for @meiitanoia my beloved sirius black lovebot <3

[NAVIGATION] [MASTERLIST]

You woke up with a start. The curtains to your four-poster bed danced gently, as if attempting to put you into a trance. It worked: You watched it, transfixed more than ever until you slowly gained proper consciousness, or at least enough to let you yawn.

You reached out to push the curtains a bit to find that it was still night-time. You could hear light snores coming from your roommates, but you ignored it in desperate hopes of falling asleep again. You couldn’t; not that you didn’t want to, because you really did. The reason for your tossing and turning at this late hour was most likely because you slept around six p.m., an unideal hour for sleep on a weekday. You’d passed on dinner, and told yourself you’d just take breakfast early in the morning.

Giving up, you threw out your feet off the bed, feeling the cold surface of the floor. The clock told you it was half past eleven as it kept ticking and ticking and ticking.

Before you knew it, you were trudging down the deserted halls of Hogwarts, half-melted dark chocolate in one hand and your lightened wand in the other. You bought it from Honeydukes just last weekend on your visit to Hogsmeade. You didn’t know where you were going, but you just wanted to be somewhere else, maybe even do something exciting.

For cautionary measures, you looked in every direction every time you reached a turn in fear of getting caught by any roaming person of authority. Peeves would probably make a sound that’ll draw Mr. Filch’s attention; Mrs. Norris could appear, and that in itself is bad news already; Mr. Filch himself could catch you and start throwing insane threats; or maybe someone from the faculty could catch you and put you in detention, and you knew full well you did not want to spend time doing an absurd task.

When you managed to slip out unnoticed, you walked over to the bank of the lake, the rocks crunching under your feet. It was probably one of the things you find in horror movies when all is still, all is sleeping, and the monster is yet to come—

Your pulse skipped a beat when the sight of something running away from the forest shuffled past. You realized it was just a dog, but it gave you a shock nonetheless. Just a dog, you thought. Just a dog.

You pulled out the chocolate from your pocket, unwrapping it carelessly. It wasn’t until you took your first bite did you realize the dog was right behind you, watching you with curious eyes.

“I’d give you some but dogs aren’t allowed to eat chocolate,” you said to the dog, who then whined in response as it sat down. “I really can’t, I’m sorry.”

One might think a big black dog sneaking up on you in the middle of a night would cause a fright, but it was strangely more comforting than eerie. After all, it was just a dog.

Just looking at the creature reminded you of Snuffles, your very own dog who died while you were away from home and sitting in History of Magic, unaware your best bud had passed. You looked down hopefully at the dog in front of you.

“Snuffles?” you inquired hesitantly, reaching out your hand. Please don’t bite, you chanted more to yourself than to the dog. To your relief, it approached you gingerly and let you pet its head. “Is it you?”

Highly unlikely, you knew that, but it wouldn’t hurt to hope that it was, right? You’d spent your entire childhood with that dog: Sleeping together under a poorly done fort until daybreak; getting lost in the neighborhood together, earning disapproving opinions from the neighbors; and most of all, countless birthdays.

Well, just to name a few.

Maybe it was the moonlight reflecting off of the lake’s waters, but you could’ve sworn you saw the dog wink. You took your hand back to rub your eyes before studying the dog. “Are you Hagrid’s?”

The dog simply sat there, looking at you curiously. “Right, like a dog’s gonna talk back to me.” You chuckled, laughing at yourself. “Come, I’ll bring you back to him.”

It didn’t move. “Look, I can’t give you chocolate. Maybe I can sneak you some steak or something next time if you’re still here. I’d give you dog food but they don’t have that around here. But I reckon Hagrid has some, though. Do you want me to get you food?”

Once again, maybe (just maybe) it was only your imagination, but you got the sense that the dog disagreed. You didn’t push it any further and so you simply made yourself comfortable even under the rocks. You set down your cloak under your bottom to serve as a mat. It didn’t do much, but it was better. You gestured for the dog to come closer.

“I’m gonna call you Snuffles now,” you said as you picked up a stone. “Watch this.” With a swing of your arm, you sent the stone flying into the lake, skipping three times. “I used to be able to do four. You’d know, you were there!”

Snuffles your dog from years ago indeed was there with you when it happened on your family trip to your lake house, but this was not Snuffles; this was your very own classmate and Housemate, Sirius Black himself. He’d never talked to you before, much less noticed you, so it was a surprise to him that he’s spending his time with you at this late hour.

Nevertheless, it was a time well-spent even when it was mostly (entirely) just watching you skip rocks down the lake as you talked about the aforementioned Snuffles. He didn’t know how long you two sat there, but sat you did anyway. Twice he thought of a joke to tell only to be disappointed for of course, he couldn’t voice it out.

“I named her Snuffles because she used to cry a lot when we first brought her home from the shelter and mum didn’t want us to call her Sniffles so I went with the next best thing.” You put your legs in front of you. “Poor little thing.”

It wasn’t until the sky brightened a bit did you realize you were thirsty from all the talking you were doing. You would've stayed for the sunrise but, well, schedules would tragically overlap.

“Crap,” you thought as you began picking up your cloak, “I’ll end up dozing off in class! Anyway, I’ll try and bring you steak later, Snuffy.”

With a wave, you ran away from the lake, cloak in your arms, unaware that you had left your wand behind. Sirius was watching you until you disappeared from sight before he spotted the wand, which he then picked up.

He de-transformed on his way just a bit by a wall, and as soon as he did, he tucked your wand into his own cloak. He glanced back just for a second before running back to the castle. By the time he got to the painting of the Fat Lady, he halted at the sight of the girl from earlier — you.

“—you know me already, ma’am. I just forgot the password is all. Please let me in.”

“No password, no entry,” spat the Fat Lady. “And it does not do to wake up a sleeping person.”

“Well, you’re just a painting,” you mumbled. And if Sirius could hear it from where he was standing, the Fat Lady probably heard it too.

“Hmph!” exclaimed the Fat Lady. “Children are foul.”

“They are, aren’t they?” you chimed in hopes of getting on the Fat Lady’s better graces.

“I was talking about you, child,” said the Fat Lady with disdain. “Now scoot!”

You were about to walk away when Sirius decided to walk in. You froze.

It was only until then did it dawn on Sirius that he did not know your name because you had not told him anything earlier. He turned to the Fat Lady.

“Spondulicks,” said Sirius. The Fat Lady merely grunted as the painting swung open to reveal the room. “After you, m’lady.”

It was like he was seeing a different person; you refused to meet his eyes as you hurriedly walked into the opening of the painting, arms crossed. He was almost about to give you your wand but realized what a bad idea that would be, and so he kept his mouth shut.

You kept walking straight ahead, and Sirius had to stifle his laugh at the sight of you missing a step on the stairs to the girls’ dormitory, especially when your pace quickened after this.

That morning at breakfast, you were nowhere to be found. Sirius took his seat next to James while skimming the length of the Gryffindor table.

“What’re you looking for?” asked James, curiously scanning the table as well.

“This girl with [Y/H/C] hair,” Sirius replied absentmindedly as he slowly settled down, still looking for her.

“A girl? You’re gonna have to be more specific, mate. But bagsy snogging her.”

“What — you can’t bagsy her, you haven’t even met her,” spat Sirius. James was rather taken aback but still seemed to be stifling his laugh at the outburst nonetheless. Sirius cleared his throat. “And need I remind you that you’re trying to get Evans?”

“Mhm, I was just trying to see how interested you were in this girl to be preoccupied with looking for her instead of petting your hair.” More and more people began to file in to the common room and Sirius’s attention went to the door after determining you were not seated in one of the tables.

“It’s called combing, and you should try it.” Sirius ran his hand through his hair. “It would do you good to look fresh at least once.”

James snickered. “What can I tell you, Pads? The ladies like the rugged look.”

“I don’t think they do,” remarked Remus.

“Oh trust me, Remus,” James started with a smug grin. “They do. The key to it is—”

But Sirius never found out what ‘the key to it’ was; at least, not today. After a group of younger Ravenclaws walked in, he finally spotted you right behind them and his back straightened even more. For what, he did not know.

You took your seat beside a couple more Gryffindors and helped yourself to food on your own plate. You were busy rubbing her eyes, giving Sirius more time to watch. When you finished, you caught him looking at you, but he didn’t break the eye contact; instead, he smiled.

“Oh, her?” exclaimed James, trying to get a better look. Sirius gently kicked his foot at how obvious he was, but he nodded in confirmation. James blew a raspberry. “I can’t bagsy, can I?”

Sirius scowled. “No.”

“Then I call dibs.”

“Wha — that’s the same thing! You can’t just call dibs.” Sirius cleared his throat once more, for James was raising a brow to signify he’d proved his point. “You can’t.”

“Wouldn’t hurt you to go on over and talk to her, would it? After all, you do it all the time.” James stretched out his arms and made gestures of triumph. “Hook, sink, liner.”

“It’s actually ‘Hook, line, and sinker,’” said Remus.

“No it’s not. Get a load of this guy,” James joked (or not). “Anyway, come on, I’ll come with you. But I apologize in advance if my hair works better than yours.”

When they made it over to where you were sitting, you appeared to be manually wiping your plate with a tissue.

“Excuse me,” started Sirius, gesturing at the plate, “May I?”

Hesitantly and still not meeting his gaze, you handed him the plate. Sirius pulled out his wand and with a small flick, he said, “Tergeo!”

When he handed it back, you simply nodded your head in thanks and began to stuff it in your bag.

“Wait, are you stealing a plate?” James asked with a grin, on the verge of laughing. “You wouldn’t want to do that. See, our friend’s a Prefect and he’ll totally tell Professor Meownerva — pun courtesy of Peter, by the way.” James snickered. “I wish I’d thought of it first be—Ow!”

Sirius had stepped on James foot. “I’ll take it from here, Bambi.”

James managed a scowl before leaving the scene. You didn’t know what to do; so in your mind, you started devising ways to get yourself out of that situation: Make a run for it or melt on the spot; neither seemed like a good option.

“Why are you stealing a plate?” he asked.

“Er — long story. Have a good day.” Then you stood up and began to walk away, backing up a bit to grab a piece of sandwich before completely storming off.

When Sirius returned the other three were there, laughing out loud together.

James leaned closer. “Her name’s [Y/N].”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” exclaimed Sirius, annoyed.

“Hook, sink, liner,” said James confidently.

Remus cleared his throat again. “Again, it’s ‘Hook, line, and’—”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” dismissed James.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

On your first class (Transfiguration), the two of you clearly could not at all suppress your yawns: Sirius was doing fairly better compared to you, for he had the decency to not let his head plop face down on his desk, but he was sleepy nonetheless. This was no surprise to Sirius. After all, he hadn’t slept that morning. As for you, he did not know whether or not you slept but according to your peaceful and sleeping face, he kind of had a clue.

He wasn’t listening, and so when everyone brought out their wands, he just cluelessly followed the others. Professor McGonagall approached the middle row and stopped just right next to you.

“Miss [Y/L/N]?” started McGonagall. “If I’m not mistaken, bedtime ended hours ago.”

You merely grunted. McGonagall cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Miss [Y/L/N]?”

The professor put the back of her palm against your forehead. She lifted your face off the table and her eyes widened. “Heavens! Child, you look positively ghastly. Remus, kindly take—”

“I’ll do it,” said Sirius. “I’m her. . .” As he trailed off, all eyes went back and forth from you, McGonagall, and him. He opened his mouth again to add, “friend. We’re friends.”

Although McGonagall appeared to be reluctant, she let you go, advising you to visit Madam Pomfrey. Sirius risked a smug look in James’s way before following you out the door, eager to speak with you.

“So you’re feeling unwell?” asked Sirius.

“Look, buddy, I appreciate it but I honestly just want to go to bed.”

“Didn’t Minnie McG tell you to visit Madam Pomfrey?”

You halted. “I’m not sick.”

“What do you mean? What about the drowsy eyes and the head hurting and the red nose—?”

“Okay, now you’re making my head hurt.” You faced him, hands on your hips in defiance. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, Black: I’ll go back to my room and you’ll take a walk to the Hospital Wing and back to class.”

“But you’re sick.”

“Buddy, I’m really not,” you said with an irritated laugh. “I haven’t slept yet and I lost my wand. How do you think I’ll be able to go to class without a damn wand?”

Sirius scoffed. “Then what about your runny red nose and teary eyes?”

“Really? Are purebloods really that dense not to come up with basic ways to get out of class?” It was almost ironic. After all, you’d heard tons of brilliant things pureblooded wizards could do. Clearly they weren’t as crafty. You snorted. “Do you really want to know?”

“Do I? Of course I do.”

And with a bit of consideration, you recounted your gimmicks: collecting two chili peppers from the table and lightly patting your finger under your eyes to make it teary (it badly hurt), pinching your nose as soon as you left the Great Hall and sprinkling a bit of pepper on your sleeve to get yourself to sneeze, taking a quick hot shower without getting your hair wet, and more.

“Wow,” he exclaimed under his breath, astonished. You shrugged in response, turning around to walk away. “Wait, then why did you agree for me to take you instead of Remus?”

“Eh, well, your friend who’s trying so hard to be Michael Landon said that the Remus guy was a Prefect so I figured that he’s probably a snitch.”

“Trust me, he’s not a snitch,” Sirius said with a laugh. “Wait, I don’t even know who Michael Landon is but could you say that thing again but to James’s face tomorrow morning at breakfast?”

“No.” You turned your back on him, walking away. “May we never talk again.”

“You’re welcome, by the way!” He watched as you made a turn, disappearing from view before making a face. “Ungrateful chick.”

That entire day, you spent your time in bed, tossing and turning to keep yourself awake. Whenever someone came in during vacant time, you made sure the curtains to your four-poster bed were sealed shut while pretending to sniffle.

It was Friday, so you were thankful for the time to rest. You were thinking of just looking for your wand tomorrow when you remembered the dog. You shifted in your bed as you slowly stood up, peeking through the curtains of your bed. Your roommates were probably still in the common room, so you peeked your head out to grab your bag from beside your bed and pulled it in before shutting the curtains close.

You pulled out the plate you got from earlier that morning and waited.

Waited for your roommates to come in and chat for a while.

Waited until the lights went out.

Waited until the only sound you could hear was the ticking of the clock in the room.

You were about to fall asleep when what you could only assume was a bird hit itself against the window, jolting you awake.

It was dead silent. And just like you did hours ago, you threw your feet out of your bed. Going out at this hour without a wand felt threatening, but you reassured yourself, just thinking over and over that it would be just like old times back when you didn’t know you were a witch.

There was no one in the common room by the time you got down there. You tightened your grip on the plate in your hands, thinking about how good a weapon it would make (it probably wasn’t, but it was good enough to make you feel like you had a chance).

You slipped out, unaware once more of the same boy you had talked to the night before following you.

The walk down the halls and stairs without a light made your tour all the more frightening: Jumping when you accidentally graze your hand too much on one of the paintings which often earned an angry grunt from them, feeling for the next step of the stairs in fear of tripping over, and so on.

Sirius resisted the urge to just approach you and give you your wand, resorting to just staying behind to make sure you got out safely. He was about to keep going straight ahead when you made a turn, confusing him.

It took a few more turns for him to realize you were headed for the kitchens. He had to wait outside until you came back out a short while later with something in the plate.

Laughing silently to himself, he followed you again to the grounds, your wand in his cloak pocket, feeling like a hundred pounds weighing him down.

You went back to where you were last night, scouring the rocks in hopes of spotting a distinct shape among the round shapes. You cursed under your breath in disappointment as you set the plate of steak aside, your eyes falling to the dark surface of the lake. Gulping, you tied up the pant legs of your pajamas, mumbling inaudible words to yourself at what you were about to do.

Only your feet were in the water when you heard a loud bark, causing you to jump a bit, toppling backward at the sight of the black dog. You felt the water soak your back and a bit of your head.

“Snuffles?” you asked the dog whilst shaking yourself dry as you stood up. “There’s steak over there. It’s for you.”

If it weren’t for his physical state, Sirius would be laughing right now. The least he could do was walk your way, sitting right beside the plate of the steak.

“I know it’s not as good as I promised but it’s the best I could give, I’m sorry,” you said to the dog as it looked at you curiously. You bent down to pick up your cloak, drying yourself and wrapping it around you. With a huff, you squeezed the water out of your hair and sat down on the rocks once again. “I only came down here to look for my wand. It probably rolled down to the bottom of the lake already.”

You yawned. The lack of sleep was already taking a toll on you and you couldn’t let the sun rise before you could lie down in bed.

“Do you not like the steak?” you asked again. “You know, I got that plate for you.”

The dog’s ears perked up, and you reached out to pet it.

“Thank Merlin I got away from that fruitcake.”

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

“I’m a fruitcake,” Sirius told his friends that morning as they fell in line for their Hogsmeade trip. James looked at his friend as if he had gone mad (well, one can say he’s halfway there). “Out of all the things I could be, I’m a fruitcake.”

“Took you long enough to figure that out,” said Peter, who then brightened when James burst into a laugh.

“You sure?” said Remus, adjusting his tie. “If you are, then you’re far too salty to be one.”

“Guys, I’m ser—” He cut himself off, aware that they were waiting for an opening to pick fun at his name. “I am not joking.”

“Because you’re. . .?” James said, encouraging him.

Sirius let out an exasperated sigh. “Serious.”

And just like that, the entire group howled in laughter. Rolling his eyes, Sirius scanned the crowd again, but it was the same thing as yesterday — you were once again nowhere to be found.

“Wait, where did you get this fruitcake comment from?” asked Remus.

Sirius recounted your past encounters with him, earning a whoop of cheer and a pat from James.

“I have a plan,” said Sirius. “I’ll just so happen to ‘run into’ her in Hogsmeade and she’ll think I’m charming because I did my hair better today.”

“I don't know, I reckon it’ll be hard to jump from fruitcake puppy to charming knight and shining armor,” said Remus.

It wasn't until they were near the front of the line did Sirius realize there was still no sign of you. He then stepped out of the line, earning sudden protests from the rest of the group.

He made a show of waving at the other three as he disappeared from view before darting down the halls and up the stairs until he made it to the common room, where he plopped down on the couch. A couple of first and second years were gathered by the window playing chess.

Sirius kept his head down as he waited for you to come out until finally, about almost ten minutes later, heavy steps came from the girls’ dormitory as it descended down the stairs. Sirius kept his face down so as to hide himself for you, cursing at himself for being too. . .what’s a nicer way to put creepy again?

He followed you again like the night before, going over the things he wanted to say.

Hello, I’m actually Snuffles.

I’m Snuffles.

Hi, I’m not really a reincarnation of your dog because I’m actually a fruitcake!

It just kept getting worse in his head the more that he dwelled on it, and so he resorted to just focusing on his step when you halted, causing him to run into you.

“You,” you started, stopping with your finger pointed right at him, daring him to speak, “why are you following me?”

“Because. . .” Sirius trailed off. Why was he following you?

Because I'm Snuffles and I have your wand. Because I can turn into a dog. Because while I am Snuffles, I'm also not really Snuffles. Because—

“Because I found your wand,” he blurted out. “Well, consider it as a token of appreciation.”

“For what?”

“For being a good friend. . . ?”

“As far as I know, the first and only time we ever even talked was just yesterday,” you said, gesturing with your hands. “What’s your deal?”

“I want to take a walk,” Sirius relaxed, grinning at you.

“Then do it yourself!” you exclaimed.

“With you, I mean.”

Sirius’s tone calmed you down at least a bit, and so you cleared your throat. Come to think of it, he’s probably not that bad.

You began to walk with him on your way out to the grounds. “And what do I get out of this walking thing of yours?”

Sirius waved his hand with a flourish as we jogged ahead to stop right in front of you, tipping an imaginary hat. “Bragging rights, madam.”

You halted. “You’re gonna have to try better than that, Vinnie Barbarino.”

“Er — that’s good, right?” he asked, tensing up again as he composed himself.

“Depends on how you look at it.”

“Well, does he have nice hair?”

“Again, depends on how you look at it.”

“I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“You and me both, Vinnie,” you told him with a huff as you two set foot outside.

“It’s certainly better than fruitcake,” he muttered under his breath. You leaned in closer, your brow raised in question. He shook his head and told you it was nothing.

By the time you made it to the bank of the lake, you found yourself unconsciously searching the rocks for your wand.

Sirius snorted. “You can keep looking but it’s not there.”

“Wasn’t trying to.”

He watched as you bent down to pick up a rock and moved closer to the lake. Just like you did a few nights ago, you swung your arm to skip a rock. It was kind of like a movie for him; the way your shoulders sunk a bit after getting only three skips. “I used to be able to do four.”

I’d know, Sirius thought as he grinned at the irony. I was there. Maybe I really am Snuffles.

“So, when are you going to give me my wand?” You turned around to face him again, dusting your hands as you did so.

Sirius wanted to tell you about his alter-ego badly. But at the same time, it was right there and then Sirius realized something. He normally hated the idea of a routine; loathed it, even. But he figured that maybe, just this once, he could make an exception. He didn’t mind going out every single night as Padfoot or Snuffles if it meant the world to you to have something to look forward to. In fact, the line was starting to blur between all his names: Sirius Black, Onion, Padfoot, Snuffles, Fruitcake.

Sirius cleared his throat and told you, “Monday morning when you have breakfast with me.”

“I’m not gonna have breakfast with you.”

“You are now because you’ll get a coupon.”

“What coupon?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Bragging rights for spending time with me — Sirius Orion Black.”

“You’re awfully presumptuous.”

“Why are you so mean?” Sirius feigned pain by clutching his chest, making a show.

You bit your cheek in attempt not to laugh. “Look, just give me back my wand.”

“Give me your word that you’ll have breakfast with me first.”

“Fine,” you told him. “Now will you give me my wand back?”

Sirius let out a long sigh before taking a step forward and bending down to pick up a rock. He swung his arm backward as he made a shot.

One, two, three, four.

He faced you. “Hook, sink, liner.”

“It’s ‘hook, line, and sinker,’ how could you mess that up?”

“Damn it, James,” he cursed under his breath. “Anyway, here’s your wand.”

This definitely took you by surprise, especially when he pulled it out of his coat pocket and handed it to you with only a friendly smile and without any hesitation.

You grabbed it as fast as you could just in case he changed his mind at the last minute.

Sirius fought the urge to pick fun at the fact that this was close to what one may call fetch.

Wow, he thought. Merlin, I’m literally Snuffles. Sirius could hear his friends’ jeers light years away: Playing fetch with her, Snuffy? Will you also let her walk you? Oh, wait, you already did!

“Thank you,” you told him. “I was literally prepared to dive down there just to get my wand. I know what a big hassle it is to get it replaced and everything.”

“I know,” he said, pertaining to how he knew the lengths you were ready to go to just so you could find your wand, but you took what he said an answer to what you said last.

Sirius began walking again, and you followed. “Why didn’t you go to Hogsmeade with the others?”

“Eh, I’ve been there a lot of times. We’ll go there next time. I’ll take you to—”

You halted. “Woah, woah, who said I’ll be coming with you?”

“Time,” Sirius protested. “It tells you things even you wouldn’t be able to know.”

You scoffed as you kept walking alongside him. “Eh, well, we got Professor Trelawney for that. What do you say we visit her classroom and play with balls? I mean, orbs. No, stop laughing.”

But he didn’t stop. And honestly, neither did you; not even when you completed a turn around the grounds.

That night was a brilliant one: You were headed back downstairs, this time keeping your wand tight in your hand as you did so.

Just like as far as always can go, Snuffles sat by the lake, looking at the ripples that danced along its surface. Why did the dog suddenly look familiar?

You stood right next to Snuffles, who was now looking up at you curiously.

“I can’t stay for long,” you told the dog. “I have to sleep early, you know. I mean, you don’t, but — whatever.”

You bent down to pick up a rock again, watching it skip three times. You cursed under your breath, “How’d he do it?”

Snuffles, originally Sirius himself, snorted. You turned to the dog and shook your head, telling yourself it was your want of sleep playing tricks on you.

“Fruitcake’s actually not that bad,” you started as you picked up another rock. Sirius looked up again. “I think I’ll give him a chance.”

When you finally gave up on skipping rocks, you sat down right next to the dog. “He kinda left a ring of his, see?” You showed the dog Sirius’s ring. The dog blinked. “I’m not planning on keeping it, I’ll give it back to him on a good day.”

A bird flew by, causing you to jump a bit. “Yep, I’m gonna need to sleep this out. Go to Hagrid’s will you? Actually, no, come with me.”

You lead the dog to Hagrid’s hut and told it to stay there. Sirius thought it was funny seeing you boss him around in a gentler manner.

With a wave, you ran back to the doors and dashed up the stairs until you reached the dormitories, where you hastily got in your bed and tucked yourself in.

When breakfast came and you casually sat down right across from Sirius and beside James, a thought came to Sirius’s head again: He wanted you to know him as Sirius Black, no disguises involved. Sure, maybe he’d learn more of you if he continued doing it but . . . he wanted you to learn more of himself, too.

As for telling you his secret identity (not Batman), he decided that it’d be best to let his future self deal with it and just enjoy breakfast with you, which is hopefully just the first of many.

One last thing, though: Snuffles grew on Sirius. Safe to say that he got attached; so much that even when time told new people new fates, he found a way to let the name stay by using it as a safe codename as an attempt to become a lovable stray in the time of danger.

But that doesn’t matter just yet, not when the group was busy having one of the most brilliant Mondays to date.

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