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ladyvesuvia · 3 years

Note

🛣🛣🛣 OMF FOR JAMES OR SIRIUS (bc stars astronomy yk iTS UP TO U) INSPIRED BY HALLEYS COMET BY BILLIE EILISH AHHH SUCH A GOOD SONG I WAS THINKING ABT HOW U WOULD BE THE BEST PERSON TO WRITE IT OMGalso congrats on 600!!!<333

Halley’s Comet

PAIRING: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Halley’s Comet comes around more often than Sirius Black does. Shame you didn’t get to see it in your lifetime when he finally did. [Based on Halley’s Comet by Billie Eilish]

WORDS: 3.4k

WARNING(S): angst, promises, kinda half-assed writing because i rushed hanxbdjwa bold and italicized text are the lyrics. not proofread so might have a couple of errors. || SECOND PERSON

A/N: thank u babe i’m honored <333 i hope i captured the vibe and the aesthetic of it bb!!! agh the song’s so good especially with earphones smxnejej

NAVIGATION || MAIN MASTERLIST || HP MASTERLIST

I don't want it

“If you were really a star among the other stars, what would you do?” you had asked him one late night as you two sat with your backs against the rock hard wall of Hogwarts, your legs spread out before you.

“I’m already a star,” he told you with a smug grin, reveling at the fact that he’d just made you laugh. Friends is what he’d say if asked what the two of you were. A friend is what he’d tell his other friends about what he saw whenever he looked at you. “But if I really did become the actual star, there wouldn’t be much to do but guess I’d like to hold hands with the other stars then I’d still rock a good outfit.”

“A good outfit? How does that even work?”

“Eh, well, you know, the usual stuff like my belt, my sword, and my shield.”

“That doesn’t even — oh, right, because your name’s Orion? You know, I hate to break it to you, but that’s your father’s name.”

“Either way, I wouldn’t care because I’d still be the brightest star in the sky.”

And I don't want to want you

You laughed at this, and he once again felt a smile tug at his lips. What a drag, he thought, pertaining to the stupid glint he felt at this stupid thing he refused to admit. Not your laugh, no. Never in a lifetime would he think of anything that came out of your mouth was anything worth of a mockery.

He shifted in his seat, not tearing his eyes off the sky just like you still hadn’t. Clearly you were both far too mesmerized by the brilliance of the dark yet twinkling sky, amused by the beauty that always felt chasing after the light, its demise no more than a rising sun.

“Everyone’s the brightest star to someone whose eyes they’re made for,” you said, finally facing him, “and I guess you just happen to be your own.”

Not really, he thought as he faced you as well. It’s actually you. But he shook this thought aside as soon as it came and just laughed along with you, the sense of comfort lingering longer than often. “That’s true.” It isn’t.

He turned to you, his eyes filled with more than what the night sky could ever carry. “I like the way your eyes always seem to be so full when it’s watching the night sky pass by, I like the way you laugh at everything I say, I like the way you roll your eyes during History of Magic, I like you,” is what he would say if he had the guts to do so. Instead, he only smiled, half hoping you’d get the words out of it.

Sirius Black is a courageous man through and through, he knew that. He could do what some cannot, but one of those skills does not include telling the truth even at least to himself.

“Sirius, tell me something,” you breathed, your eyes once again fixed on the brilliance of the night sky. He raised a brow, forgetting you couldn’t see him. “Why are we here?”

He froze. Yeah, why? “Because,” he started, gathering as much as he could from millions and millions of his thoughts, “I like it.” I like being out here with you.

“Really? You don’t think we should’ve done this up at the Astronomy Tower?”

Well this is embarrassing, thought Sirius, realizing just now that you were referring to something else.

“We were having two different conversations,” he murmured.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he added. “I mean, sure, the Astronomy Tower’s great but I think it’s lovely watching it from afar.”

“We’d still be watching it from afar if we were up there and it would be a lot better view. Merlin, Pads, do you ever think?”

I do; about you. He shook his head. One might say that the moment has passed. It hasn’t. He doesn’t think it ever will, not when he’s watching you throwing your head back in laughter again. Oh, if only he could live in this moment forever. What a luxury that would be.

“What do you want to do after Hogwarts?” he asked all of a sudden, catching you off guard. You’d been friends with Sirius for a long time now, and the still far away thought of graduating now being so disturbingly near felt more like an impending doom than a relief.

You felt as if your answer needed more thought: To answer with what job you want to take afterwards. But you had something else in mind. “I’ll wait for 1986.”

“That’s oddly specific,” he remarked. “Isn’t that still ten years away, give or take?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Why that year?”

“Well,” you started, facing him for real with your knees pressed against your chest, your arms wrapped around them, “there’s this once to twice in a lifetime thing that I want to see not just in pictures.”

“What?”

“Are you familiar with an ice cream truck?”

“Hardly, but go on.”

“See, there’s this comet that only comes around every seventy-five to seventy-six years. It was last seen in 1910, and it just seems like a shame not to see it at least one in your lifetime.”

“What does an ice truck have to do with any of that?” laughed Sirius. You didn’t.

“It comes and it goes,” you told him matter-of-factly.

Sirius bursted into a laugh. “That sounds pretty great,” started Sirius, a smile forming on his lips, “I’ll be there when you watch it even though I don’t approve of its name.”

“Shame,” you commented. “Why not?”

“Black’s Comet sounds a lot better, don’t you think?”

It was your turn to laugh this time, and he had to keep himself from beaming. “Hm, I prefer [Y/L/N]’s comet.”

“[Y/L/N]-Black’s Comet it is then.”

“Alright, deal,” you answered with a smile that could have possibly sent Sirius orbiting around every planet in the universe all at once and back. “Promise you’ll watch it with me?”

“My answer’s always the first word, of course I do.”

A moment of silence again, and you were both in the same place you’ve been since the night started: Backs against Hogwarts’s walls and untrue of what you felt for each other, always just waiting and waiting and waiting.

But in my dreams, I seem to be more honest

The very next day, he distanced himself, not even daring to meet your gaze. He doesn’t want to want you, but what played before his eyes during his sleep said something else: You stood up during class and everybody else froze, but not out of shock. They were just . . . still and unmoving as if they were simply carved that way.

The classroom then descended into nothingness and soon the dark was engulfed by the treacherous stars whose intentions are misaligned if not for their mesmerizing glow.

But he didn’t care for them. He only cared for you. You whose body was made of something else far more precious than the stars. You whose hands were reaching out to him. You whose presence takes up most of the infinite space in his mind, filling even the corners no thought of his could ever reach. . .

When he awoke, he spent the time he tossed around in bed hoping the drowsiness would disappear and hopefully with it the dream.

And I must admit you've been in quite a few

I’ve forgotten it already, he told himself over and over, a pathetic attempt at assuring himself it was nothing more than an idiotic idea. It’s gone in my head now.

Friends.

We’re friends, he’d say. We’re great friends. It’s hard to look at someone who’s only looking straight ahead from afar, knowing all too well there’d never be more than what there is today.

Maybe it was just you; maybe only you saw the spark.

Maybe it was just him; maybe only he saw the spark.

Either way, neither saw much less got the hint that both would give up all the stars in the world if it meant not losing each other.

Halley's Comet

Comes around more than I do

Friends, right? Sharing a knowing look over an inside joke only you knew is some friend thing, isn’t it? Playing with the other’s hair out of boredom during History of Magic or whenever convenient are habits friends have, right?

“So where are you with [Y/N]?” said another voice. For a moment Sirius thought it was only his mind but then a flash of red from beside him told him it was Lily.

“Oh, whatever do you mean?” asked Sirius, his voice sounding dismissive.

“I mean you’re being stupid.”

“Did I hear that right from you, Evans?”

Lily scoffed. “You did. So where?”

“In Canis Major,” he replied in the least encouraging way one could do so before standing up and fetching himself another glass of water.

Sirius never tried to get you alone after that night and it was just beyond frustrating for you. What’d I do wrong? you’d think for the most of the days that followed until it was just easy to talk to him again. But he always made it hard whenever it was: Days would come by when you two would be laughing and everything you loved doing and ice cold tension the next.

But you're all it takes for me to break a promise

He knew that there was something so much bigger than what you two had and could have. Once again, Sirius Black is a courageous man; a brilliant one, even.

But just like every brave man to exist, he had his weaknesses, and you just simply happened to be his, however tragic that fact may be.

Silly me to fall in love with you

Even when he watched his best friend marry his best friend — and happy as he may have been for them — it was hard not to imagine that he was only watching you and himself from afar as he watched Lily walk down the aisle. You stood at the opposite side, only smiling as you watched your best friend get to what all of you blindly assumed would be a happy ending.

Time had passed by too quickly, but there was always the same question in your head: Would he still see the comet with you years from now?

Hopefully. Maybe. Maybe not. Hopefully not. You didn’t know what to think. Risking all you could risk, you glanced his way only to find his eyes stuck to Lily, unbeknownst to you he had a thought he wishes you had.

For a split second, Sirius wasn’t seeing James and Lily. For a split second, it was you in the wedding gown, your beauty impossible to summarize by a photo as you walked the length of the aisle, getting closer and closer . For a split second, he wore the highly fine tux.

For a split second, he saw a future he longed to have as his present.

I haven't slept since Sunday

On the ninth of February, 1986, Sirius found himself in a muddily grassy scenery; the gray blocks standing tall as substitute of those who lay underneath the surface of the soil. He sat down next to his best friend’s grave, the headstone hazy through his eyes.

Midnight for me is 3AM for you

“Funny seeing you here, Prongs,” he said to the headstone, “been a long time, yeah?”

He fidgeted with a twig he picked up from the park nearby, busying himself with the different paths of which it grew. “You know how you married Lily? I wish I did that, too. I mean, not with Lily but. . .”

Even today, the thought of admitting it seemed far too comical, unreal. “She’s great, you know. [Y/N], I mean.” Sirius let out a long sigh before looking back to the headstone. “Man that feels good to get out of my chest.”

A wind blew his hair away from his face. Was that an answer? Sirius chuckled, the smile staying even long after the wind stilled.

But my sleepless nights are better

With you than nights could ever be alone, ooh-ooh

He then thought back to the times you’d spent together not limited to that one night you swore to watch the comet. Each and every one of those became his favorite but most of all the first time you’d snuck out together.

As friends.

Even so, it was a worthy possession of his, and he treasured it dearly: The night breeze was welcoming and sweet.

Sirius tore his eyes away from the headstone, keeping himself from seeing gray. He repeated the name on the headstone in his mind. James Fleamont Potter, James Fleamont Potter, James Fleamont Potter, not A-Z. . . .

“I’m getting kinda drowsy, mate,” said Sirius, letting out a light laugh as if it would help.

I was good at feeling nothin', now I'm hopeless

What a drag to love you like I do

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but I actually envy you, you know that?” scoffed Sirius. The wind gushed again. “Sorry, just had to get it all out. I’m good now, I hope you are, too.”

He stared too hard at the headstone that he could’ve sworn he glimpsed something wispy walk by. Shaking his head, he sighed.

“Why am I still here, you ask?” he said as if he were in a play. “I have a promise to keep. Kind of hard to fulfill it when I’m still in shackles.”

He looked up at the glowing night sky. It brought him back to every single night you’d spent together once more, and something tugged at his heart, clenching it and if he didn’t move he had the feeling that it would explode.

After all, stars tend to explode, too. Eventually, the sun will explode as well, he thought, glad he could still remember some of the things you taught to him. Would be a shame if my star exploded now when I’m this close to reaching you.

A supernova; a beautiful tragedy. Shining so bright one minute only to explode at the end of its prime. But he wouldn’t let himself explode just yet.

I've been loved before, but right now, in this moment

He continued on to toy with the twig. Once again, his eyes went up to the night sky, badly drawn. Soon, [Y/L/N]-Black’s Comet would appear like a brilliant smear on the dark canvas that is the night.

Weirdly enough, he could also hear the distant crashing of waves. He focused on the rustling of the tree.

I feel more and more like I was madе for you

For you

He was excited nonetheless. He’d finally get to watch it with you. Dreams aren’t folly at all. If anything, they’re the only things that tell us the stories we want to hear.

I'm sitting in my brother's room

“I haven’t slept in a week or two,” he told the headstone again, resting his hand restlessly on the curve of the stone, “I think I might have fallen in love, what am I to do?”

He sat still, waiting for the gush of wind to answer again. Only a couple of leaves danced along and the rustling of the trees’ green strands sounded through the deserted graveyard.

“Anyway, you dropped your antlers,” he said with an assuring laugh before setting the twig he was fiddling with down in front of his best friend’s headstone. “Take better care of them or something. Until then.”

Sirius stood up, but not without one last glance at his brother née friend’s headstone. He brought heavy steps forward as he approached another headstone, and this time it was the wind that asked him a question.

“If you were really a star among the other stars, what would you do?”

The wind away from his face, his hair making his nose itch. Well, [Y/N], before I answer that, I must first fulfill a promise to someone special.

Sirius could see the headstone he was heading for from where he stood, its curve done well. As soon as he made it, he kneeled. I have a different answer now, he thought as he moved and sunk down on the muddied surface beside your headstone.

Engraved across the dusty stone was your own full name in a font he never thought he’d read it on.

He’d lost all that he had now, and so he decided crying wouldn’t be much of something that would tear away points from him (not that he had any more to lose).

If he had a champagne glass, he’d raise a toast.

A toast to the bodies of those who were never at least found — the soldiers who never came home; to the heroes whose cause got lost in the blur; to the martyrs and their words, drowning in the travesty of deadly rivalry. A toast to you. A toast to Prongs and Lily. A toast to Moony. A toast to losses whose deaths should not go to vain. A toast to himself.

For the first time in a long time, he let the water trickle down his eyes, the salty tang of it overstaying its welcome.

“To be fair, I did promise you so here I am.”

And just like he did a decade ago, he sat down, his legs in front of him as he craned his neck to look up at the night sky, waiting for the telltale sign of an approaching comet hurtling away, on its way to leave as soon as it could.

If Sirius squinted his eyes straight up above and not looked down, it was easy to pretend he was in Hogwarts with you beside him as you two looked up at the stars. For once in a lengthy time, he was genuinely happy: He was with you, waiting for your comet to arrive.

But it never did.

Not because it didn’t want to nor can’t, because it really can. Right now, it was speeding away across the very planet everyone resided in.

Sirius could not at all see this comet. Again, not because he didn’t want to. He just can’t. How would he if he was surrounded my gray walls, loneliness the only furniture as hooded figures trailed past?

His self-proclaimed utopia left just as soon as it came, the rustling of the trees gone, overpowered by the crashing of the waves just right outside Azkaban.

He couldn’t even visit your grave to do at least that. He wanted his fist to collide with the gray stone walls so bad in wants of feeling something else other than the familiar sinking dread of having what was remaining of his soul be taken away.

From then on, he came up with a different promise: If not in this lifetime, I’ll see it with you in another one. Twice, even — to make up for this lifetime.

As he sunk down to the corner of the room, he stared at his dusty fingers, longing to feel the mud in his dream.

If I were a star, you ask? My, what a question worth devouring. You’ve long awaited an answer, so here it is, he thought to himself as if you could hear him wherever you were. If I were a star, I’d shine as stupidly bright as I can just for you. But aside from that, just know that I’d look for you, too.

“We’ll make up for it all in another lifetime,” he murmured before he let himself sink against the hard wall, the closest thing he could get to a sleep. “We’ll see our comet another time. . .”

did i just make the lyric “brother’s room” james’s grave in sirius’s dream during his delirium while in azkaban? yes i did and i have no regrets xx fnfjejwj to be fair i did overshadow stuff,,, did it work??? HAHAHAHAHA reblogs appreciated :*

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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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