Chapter 12 : Of Black Brothers
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 12|
Background: Font color:
Day Five of being ‘together’ with Ickle Siri-kins, my baby.
Still only 1break up later.
Why is it that I’m either blacking out or falling asleep every time things start to get interesting? For example, today I woke up groggily in a hospital bed and saw black hair and immediately thought, Regulus Black was going to murder me in my sleep.
“Regulus.” I had muttered.
There was an angry gasp and once I had refocused my vision I saw the blanched face of Sirius Black.
“Oh, Sirius. It’s you.” I say stupidly. Of course as any decent human being would know, the ‘oh, it’s you’ move doesn’t, I repeat doesn’t appeal to anybody. The whole ‘oh’ and ‘it’s only you’ has some serious potential to bruise egos.
Like now for instance.
Because you know what he did? He glared at me and stormed off. All huffy and self-righteous like, like Jesus or something. I mean, Jesus, wouldn’t mind if you mixed him up with God or something, right? He’s all about peace, love and forgiveness.
And you know what the messed up thing is? I woke up thinking Regulus Black was going to kill me. The whole muttering, “Regulus” thing was my pathetic attempt to stop said murder. So when I said, “Oh, Sirius. It’s you.” I meant, ‘thank God you’re not your brother and not a murderer but a very fit boy who apparently stayed with me through my blacked out stage.’
So without even considering about my leg, which was probably better by now since Pomphrey is like a genius with broken stuff, I hurried after him.
“Sirius!” I cry to his back. It doesn’t get a response. “Oi, you little self-righteous wanker walking in front of me!” I cry again.
Of course he turns on that, wide-eyed and incredulous as I wobble my way to him. I am dimly aware of the fact that I must look like a penguin since my left leg is curiously stiff. So stiff in fact that when I’m two feet away from him, my toe catches on the stone floor and I fly forward into his arms.
He stays stoically silent as he holds me in his arms.
“What?” I ask, surprised, “No, cheeky comment about ‘falling for you’ or some insult at my utter clumsiness?”
He only pushes me off of him and coldly, really frosty like, stares at me. Whoa, I haven’t gotten one of those since before sixth year when we had miraculously become sort of friends.
“You can’t be possibly mad at me for calling you Regulus, Sirius.” I splutter. “I had just woken up from a coma and because you are family, you look alike! Plus he was still on my mind!”
He only growled at that. What had gotten into him?
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I say hastily, “ I mean that I thought he was going to murder me for punching him. Hey, look, in my clear state of mind I can always tell you apart.”
“Clear state of mind?” Sirius spits mockingly and then looking at my perplexed face, his gaze immediately softens. “Sorry.”
All I could manage was an eyebrow quirk in response.
“How’s your leg?” He finally says, stiffly.
“Fine.” I state feeling suddenly ridiculous.
He looks away and runs his fingers through his hair.
“One single word, huh?” He sighs. “You must be mad.”
“I’m not mad.” I say loftily and as if to prove it I say, “I should have realized that you would care enough to be by my side when I woke up from my temporary coma. I’m sorry.”
I’m amazed at the things that come out of my mouth sometimes. Truly I am. He looks down at me softly. I gulp.
“I would.” He whispers.
“Would what?” I say flatly. I see him wince and I’m pretty sure I’ve ruined some sort of moment.
“Nevermind.” He says tightly and then I finally get it! Oh, he means he does care enough about me that he would be by my side! Oh my God that is so sweet.
“Oh no, I get it!” I say interrupting him, excited and pleased. “That is possibly the sweetest thing anyone that isn’t my direct relative has ever said to me.”
I throw my arms around him in a big, surprisingly non-awkward hug.
Finally, like a curtain falling and opening, the Sirius that I know, the confident and arrogant Sex God emerges all smiles and smirks and knowing winks.
“It’s what I do.” He says cockily and his hands, which are holding my waist, move sneakily down to my arse.
I kick him in the shins without breaking my embrace.
“Just hug me, you git.” I say fiercely.
“Where have you been, you silly girl?” Greets my ears as soon as I wobble my way back into the Hospital Wing.
“Fighting dragons, saving the world, curing cancer, becoming a rocket scientist, reading all literature classics in various languages including Russian…” I say as I land heavily on my bed.
Madame Pomphrey in scurry hurries over and inspects my leg.
“Stiff as a board.” She states disapprovingly and muttering some incantation under her breath it suddenly vanishes. “Better?” She says.
“Yes, actually.” I say bending my leg, experimentally.
It is as good as new. I marvel at the difference from yesterday.
“Thanks, Madame P.” I say cheekily and after shaking her hand rather vigorously I gather my socks and shoes, not bothering to put it on. I hate hospital wards. They’re sterile and devoid of any human touch.
“Careful, Marriot!” She screeches after me as I run toward the door just as it opens and hits me in the face. My shoes flies into the air in a graceful arc and in between the pain on my forehead and the sudden stars in front of my eyes, I watch captivated as gravity brings my shoe toward the head of Regulus Black.
It bounces off his mop of curls and unto the floor with a resounding clack.
A moment of silence passes.
“My head!” We both yell simultaneously.
Madame Pomphrey gives a great big gigantic sigh and begins to tend to our physical wounds while our emotional wounds are still sorely bruised. See Regulus for example. Muttering angrily under his breath about ‘stupid girls and sharp pointy heels’ as if I orchestrated this whole thing. Yes, because I really need another bump on my head, killing more stupid brain cells because it isn’t enough that I got a T in potions or that I stupidly agreed to become Sirius’s ‘girlfriend’.
So when the irritated nurse heals us, I rush out of the Hospital Wing without stopping to pick up my lost shoes or socks. The shoes were probably lodged into Regulus’s hollow head anyway.
I’m pissed and shoeless.
“Hey, wait up!” Regulus hisses from behind me. I ignore him as I make my way to my common room. It’s Sunday afternoon and I’m not going to waste it talking to some angst teenager with anger management issues.
“Will you please stop following me?” I spin around suddenly, only causing him to bump into me full on. I realize with a start that he’s almost just as tall as his brother. His angry scowl causes me to recoil slightly.
“Merlin!” He says stepping away from me. “Can we, for just one second, not maim each other in anyway?”
“Maiming is a harsh word, Black.” I say, crossing my arms. “I would call it hitting each other in a series of accidents and fits of uncontrollable rage. Although the uncontrollable rage is more me than you.” I add, thoughtfully.
“What are you going to punch me again?” He mocks, crossing his arms as well.
“I’d be prepared.” I glare, uncrossing my arms. “But what I’d truly like to know Black is what you were doing coming into the Hospital Wing in the first place.”
He opens his mouth foolishly. He growls and looks angrily away. He turns to me again, his eyes resolved, steely.
“Morbid fascination.” He says and adds a casual shrug all hip and casual like a freaking ice block.
I roll my eyes. “Stop wasting my time, Black”
I walk away from him from the utter ludicrous-ness of this situation. This is Regulus Black, the “Black Prince” and I don’t mean that in racial skin tones or anything I just meant that since his brother has been dethroned and now Regulus is on some kind of rampage to be the self-obsessing, preening, and prejudiced Slytherin that his family brought him up to be. Family drama, pshh, I don’t want to get involved.
“Hey. ” He says clamping a hand around my arm. I don’t jerk away like a normal person. I just stare at him like a deranged person.
“No, seriously. I will punch you again.” I say calmly, looking directly into his clear eyes that are so similar to his brothers.
“Do you think I like touching your filthy skin?” He spits out vehemently, however he sighs and lifts his hands up in uncharacteristic defeat, “Look, just give Sirius this?” He hands me a white envelope.
“Oh.” I say and here I was thinking he was going to murder or get his ‘revenge’ on me. I was thinking he was going to get his friends to ‘stick it to me’ or whatever. What a disappointment.
“You’ll do it?” He says, looking over his shoulder.
“This is like drug deal or something.” I mutter and pocket the letter. I freeze. “Is there drugs in here?” I ask skeptically.
“Yes, because after not talking to my brother for months I’m just going to give him some drugs that I made in the toilets for free.” He rolls his eyes. “Please I would have asked him for money and I would have done it in person.”
“Is that sarcasm?” I question him suspiciously, “Because it better be sarcasm punk.” That’s what I’ll do, call him punk and accuse him of being a drug dealer. A wizarding drug dealer. Hmm. That is hardcore.
“Just give it to him, alright?” He says searchingly.
“Alright, alright. Don’t get your fancy green boxers in a twist.” I say, pocketing the thing and giving it a subtle sniff.
“I didn’t put drugs in it.” He says exasperatedly. “And how did you know about my green boxers?”
“You’re in Slytherin and you’re a Black, so they’re going to be green and they’re going to be fancy.” I explain. “You’re all so predictable.”
He only stares at me.
“Fine, I saw them when you were bending down.” I sigh. Damn it, I thought I had got him with my smart, intuitive response.
He gives me a rather curious and penetrating stare.
“Smooth.” Drawls Regulus.
I give a mock curtsy so I miss the tiny spark of amusement, of actually real emotion that isn’t bordering the homicidal that flits briefly in his cold eyes.
As we separate, I feel the burning weight of the letter in my pocket. I’m like a messenger of family secrets and drama. Cue dramatic movie sequence now. I’m thinking it’s about lunchtime and I’ve already missed most of my classes so like the irresponsible person that I am, I go straight to the Great Hall.
I spot James’s animal on his head that he calls hair and walk toward him. As I reach him he looks down at my bare feet.
“Where are your shoes, Marriot?” He asks baffled.
“Oh, I hit Regulus in the head with it.” I wave off the plate of cheese, Peter holds out to me.
“You what?” Sirius says, coming from behind me and slinging his tie over his shoulder. He sits down on the bench opposite of James and tugs me down with him. He takes a piece of cheese off Peter’s platter.
“My shoe hit him in the head.” I say as Sirius waves a chicken wing under my nose. I grab it, gratefully. Chicken wings are, unquestionably the best part of a chicken, crunchy and tasty.
Before Sirius can retort, Remus plops himself down on my right.
“Hallo, Janelle.” He says politely and looking toward his mates says quietly, “It’s a no go.”
“What? Why?” James says affronted, although morsels of food go flying across the table.
“They’ve added some extra protection after the last time we got them.” He says. “I’ve already tried everything.”
“Have you tried seducing McGonagall?” James says seriously. Remus splutters out his water while Sirius laughs merrily.
“I don’t think so, James. I just refrain from calling her Minnie and don’t act like a little child that’s overdosed on sugar.” He says, wiping himself.
“What’s going on?” I mutter to Peter as I watch James and Remus argue over the proper ways to go about seducing an older woman. Remus insists that one must act older because that is what older women want while James insists that older women don’t want to be reminded of their old sagging breasts but of their youthful days so you have to be fun and immature. This came from James’s mouth, I swear to you.
“Oh, we’re trying to get Professor Flitwick sick or be absent for one day so we can get Professor Ann to come and substitute.” He says knowingly. Of course, Professor Ann, or Porno Ann as the lads like to call her because its been rumored that she has been in one, is a tarty substitute that all the boys salivate over.
“So you’re trying to break in the teacher’s lounge?” I ask casually. God, their completely moronic. Peter nods. I toss away the chicken bone and reach out for another chicken wing only to have Sirius dangle one in front of my eyes.
“Thanks.” I say, happily. “Oh, so I was running into your brother this morning, literally, and he told me to give you this.”
I reach for the letter in my pocket and hand over the white pristine envelope.
“Don’t worry,” I state through my chicken, “I already tested it for drugs.”
Sirius pockets the letter casually and doesn’t open it. I don’t push the subject any more than it needs to be pushed.
“So your leg is better.” Sirius says nudging his leg against mine.
“True that.” I say and try to discreetly move my leg away from his. Not that I’m complaining or anything but it’s just too much contact you know?
“Hey, you know what?” I suddenly say, avoiding Sirius’s stare, “I need to get some shoes from my dorm so I’ll see you guys, okay?”
“James, you’re being unreasonable.” Remus states soundly.
“I’m telling you, that accidentally brushing your hand against her arse will turn her—“ James says with fervor.
“I’m going.” I say loudly.
“I’ll go help you.” Sirius says, looking disturbed. “Talking about groping McGonagall’s arse is on a truly disturbing level on its own.”
“You’ve snogged McGonagall, Sirius.” James sniggers. “You’re on a whole new plane.”
I gasp at this while Sirius gives James’ a punch on the shoulder. Remus, for the second time that day, splutters his water everywhere. He gives a low curse but eyes Sirius with amusement.
This is only another reason why I should be leaving. Argh, this is so disturbing and wrong on so many levels, and planes and dimensions.
I cautiously back away from them. Sirius gives James one more good and solid punch before he catches up to me.
“Let’s go get your shoes.” He says, blushing slightly.
“You didn’t really snog, McGonagall, did you?” I ask amused as he drags me away from his friends who are hooting with laughter.
“It was dark, okay?” He cries out loudly, “I thought it was someone else!”
“Didn’t her cries of protest inform you of your mistake?” I say laughing.
“No.” Sirius says crossing his arms. “She was sighing Professor Bridgewater’s name.”
“The Muggle Studies teacher?” I roar.
“You cannot tell anybody.” He suddenly pushes me against a nearby wall and pins me there under his hands and under his stare.
I stop laughing. He stares with sudden fierceness that has nothing to do with anger. His jaw tightens then loosens. His eyebrows knit together and relax but still those eyes…. And his cold hands on my suddenly heated wrist make me shiver. I shiver.
“I… I won’t” I stutter clumsily. He leans forward more, so that his nose is touching mine like a greeting. His eyes are still burning. “I promise.” I breathe pathetically.
“Good.” He says briskly and suddenly he’s leaning away from me. A sudden rush of cold air comes between us and he’s grinning cheekily at me. I’m panting and bothered and I want to kill him.
“You are,” I say through gritted teeth, “an arse hole.”
I laugh as I run away from him in my bare feet, loudly calling Professor McGonagall’s name. He laughs and quickly catches up to me and with one sweeping motion sweeps me into his arms, clamping a hand over my mouth.
“I’ve been meaning to do that ever since I’ve met you.” He laughs as he takes his hands away from my mouth. “You’re mental.” He tweaks my nose.
“Admit it, it’s growing on you, punk.” I say rolling my eyes. “You’re liking all the crazy.”
Sirius only leans down to me again. He tilts my chin playfully so I get a good look at his serious face.
He’s biting his lip as he’s looking at me. God, that is really sexy.
“Maybe I am.” He whispers. He gives another playful tap under my chin. “Now, come on, let’s get you some shoes.”
I can only stare dumbfounded as he beckons for me to follow him. He was flirting with me. Sirius Black was definitely flirting with me, not the mocking kind that means absolutely nothing and is all for show but actual genuine flirting like ‘hey baby, what’s cooking, good looking?’
I quickly test this out.
“Hey what’s cooking, good looking?” I yell in his face.
And that, I can say with absolute certainty, was the end of that.
A/N: Hey guys! Here's another chapter hope you like it. I would like to send a special thank you to tableau for the new banner and chapter image on chapter one, check it out! It's amazing. And as for you all, please review I'd love for you to share your opinion on Regulus, Sirius and the whole shin dig really. peace holmes. haha.
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories
In A Pickle