The S/J writings...

Little Moments

Fri, 18 Sep 2009 04:44:08 GMT

Title: Little Moments
Author: fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: General/Romance
Word Count: approx. 835
Rating: R/M
Warnings: Strong sexual content, brief language. AU.
Disclaimer: I am not JKR. I do not own. It is a cryin' shame.
Blurb: They live for these…
Dedication: duva went and had another birthday!
Notes: Title and blurb plagiarised shamelessly from, er, a Brad Paisley song. Yeah, I’m dangerous like that.

Little Moments

“Oy,” Sirius muttered suddenly, reaching across James to touch his opposite cheek with two fingers. “C’mere.”

Arching a curious brow, James allowed his head to be turned. Then Sirius’s mouth was on his, familiar and insistent. With a groan, James parted his lips and sank into the slick heaven of kissing Sirius.

They were broken apart by a wolf-whistle from the teenagers up ahead, turning back on the dirt road to see what was keeping the pair.

Remus was grinning. The local Muggles just stared at the two wizards, standing close with the bleeding sunset at their backs.

“‘They’re like brothers,’ eh, Lupin?” one of the girls asked dryly, while her boyfriend glanced between the arm Sirius still had across James’s shoulders, the hand still on his face.

“It might’ve been a poor choice of words,” Remus conceded, without dropping his grin.

“I’ll say,” laughed James, beginning to grin too, throwing a sly look toward the young man at his side.

Sirius made a low noise. “Ah, fuck.”

Then they were kissing again.

Remus let loose with another wolf-whistle, before his laugh burst out into the late summer air.

—

“What have I told you,” James demanded, once they were back up in his bedroom with the door safely closed, “about kissing me in public?”

Sirius, sitting down on the end of James’s mattress, threw the other boy a bland look. “Not to do it,” he replied, and bent to untie his big, black boots. “Which, y’know, is funny, ‘cause you always kiss me back.”

“Of course I do!” James retorted indignantly, crossing his arms and glaring. “You know that you kiss really—”

Whatever he was going to say was lost, like his glare, in a low little groan of mingled exasperation and admiration, as Sirius reached behind his head and tugged off his t-shirt, revealing a broad-shouldered torso. To say nothing of the positively delicious amount of heat-pinked skin...

While James was still trying to recover, Sirius unfastened his jeans and, lifting his hips, shucked those too.

There, perched on James’s very own bed, was a perfectly naked example of everything he could possibly want to see, well, perfectly naked.

A strangled sound, while Sirius grinned.

He always had this effect on James.

He knew it, too, blast him.

—

Sirius woke just after 4 am, a gasping moan on his lips, his cock deep in the wet slide of James’s mouth.

Before he knew it he was fully awake, a writhing, babbling mess, with his fingers tangled in James’s hair and his lips pressed tightly together, desperate to stifle the loud, well-pleasured sounds he tended to make when James went down on him.

It would really, really awkward if Mr or Mrs Potter walked in on them now.

James knew what he was doing. He’d done this before… a lot — after all, this was his favourite way to wake Sirius, especially on exam days — so it was no surprise that it didn’t take long before Sirius climaxed, biting at his fist and coming down James’s throat.

James leaned back on his heels, licking his smirking lips, his left hand down under his boxers, stroking himself. Sirius stared, glassy eyed, before abruptly sitting up and scooting back ‘til he could lean down, planting his mouth around the head of James’s cock through the already damp cotton.

A hand curled familiarly against the back of his skull, as the rest of James’s fingers pulled free and shoved down his underwear — then Sirius was returning the favour, properly.

—

James laughed against the nape of Sirius’s neck, his arms wrapped tight around the other’s waist, as they speed down the dark road. James was behind him on the bike, fitted close together all along their bodies, chest to back and hips to arse, the insides of his jean-clad thighs pressing against the outsides of Sirius’s.

“What’s funny?” Sirius called to him over the wind, turning his head just slightly, his five o’clock shadow brushing stubbly against James’s cheek.

“Elvendork is unisex!” James spluttered back, managing to kill his amusement to the point that he was no longer laughing, just taking deep, chuckling breaths of Sirius-scent.

Sirius faced forward again, most likely because he was grinning so widely his face probably should have broken. “Oh. Yeah.”

“We should get a cat,” added James suddenly. “We could name it Elvendo—”

“Cat?” Sirius repeated, with a scandalised little shriek at the end, as the bike skidded to an abrupt halt. “Did you just say cat?”

“Well, I can’t have you saying that I love another dog more than I do you…”

Sirius killed the engine entirely, twisting ‘round in the seat until, with his body contorted uncomfortably, he could see James’s face. “Did you just say you love me?”

James’s whole face went scarlet. “Um. No?”

“Ah.” Sirius broke into a huge, beaming smile which did really embarrassing things to James’s brain. “You know what?”

“What?”

“We should get a cat.”

fin

Simple

Mon, 07 Sep 2009 20:21:39 GMT

Title: Simple
Author fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: General/Fluff
Word Count: approx. 1,315
Rating: PG/K+
Spoilers: Mild.
Pairing: James/Sirius
Warning: Slash (o'course), brief language.
Disclaimer: Standard rigmarole, I don’t own so don’t sue me.
Blurb: Nothing about Sirius’s decision is particularly hard to understand.
Feedback: As always, I’d appreciate it.
Notes: Just a little oneshot I finished months ago and realised I'd never posted over here. Written in response to a couple of prompts from my darling duva.

Simple

“… changed since he started Hogwarts,” says a low male voice, quietly enough to be hardly distinguishable over the soft clink of crystal against silver, punctuated by gentle sloshing of liquid. Probably Firewhiskey; their son had come by his love of it legitimately, if a little under-aged.

“You know who is the cause, of course,” the more distinct, female voice replies, with the barest edge of shrillness. There’s a rustle of fabric and a tinkle of jewelry, a body shifting. A less than feminine scoff. “Despicable Mudblood-lover.”

Another thudding clink, probably the Firewhiskey decanter being returned to its dedicated side table. “You mean that Potter boy?”

“Indeed.” Sharp heels begin clicking across the floor, interrupted briefly by the muffling shag of the Persian rug. “You do remember him, do you not?”

“Of course,” the male voice assures quickly, a sharp, lashing reply. “How could I forget him, after that ludicrous introduction four years ago?”

“And now he is all we hear about!” the female says contemptuously, her voice rising a little. “Potter did this and Potter said that.”

“I believe he may even be letting Potter tell him how to think,” agrees the male, his voice just as disdainful.

The sharp, high-heeled pacing stops. There is a muted crack, like a joint popping accidently as a fist closes or a jaw clenches. “That bloodtraitor has far too much influence over our son. This is unacceptable.”

“I agree,” murmurs the male voice, more distinct now, as the speaker seems to settle into a chair nearer the door. Tone growing rather cruel, he suggests, “Perhaps it is time we did something about it?”

“Yes. Yes. Our son will listen to us — or he won’t be allowed to see that scum again.”

“We could always just transfer him to Durmstrang.”

There is a prickling laugh. The conversation continues, dropping low and becoming inaudible for several minutes, until one of the speakers slips again.

“It’s just like Potter, to do this to our son,” blurts the female, her voice barely on the conversational side of audible, but distinguishable again. “They’re all alike, those pathetic excuses for wizards. The world would be better off if they were dead, the lot of them. Especially that Mudblood-loving James!”

In the corridor outside, Sirius stands with his back pressed to the wall by the open door, scowling off into the dark, his eyes burning with fury.

“Where’s the fire?” laughs James, as he is half led, half dragged across the platform by Sirius’s grip on his arm. Around them, other students are greeting their parents, some — especially their fellow first years — growing extremely noisy with excitement.

Sirius finally skids to a halt in front of a tall, well-robed couple whose noses are both exactly like his except more elevated, and pants, “Mother, Father — this is my friend, James.”

James lifts a hand to push his crooked glasses back up and looks at the adults through their lenses, smiling broadly. His fingers further smudge a bit of dirt near one eyebrow, and there are several tufts of hair at the back of his head that are sticking straight up. “Oh! Hullo, Mr and Mrs Black,” he says, cheerfully.

Sirius beams at him, then turns quickly back to his parents, his face instantly morphing into the expression of every child who has ever presented a grown up with something he really wants.

He followed me home, may I keep him?

Sirius’s mother sniffs, quietly. Her right eyebrow arches slightly.

“James,” murmurs Sirius’s father, as if it is a question.

“I’m in Sirius’s House,” James announces, helpfully. “His bed’s right by mine.”

Sirius’s mother’s eyebrow is a little higher, now. “Indeed. A Gryffindor, are you?”

“Yep,” says James, still smiling, as Sirius’s look gets a little more earnest.

“James?” Sirius’s father repeats, to his son. “Which family is he?”

Sirius glances at James, who eagerly answers for him. “I’m a Potter.”

Sirius’s mother’s eyebrow freezes in the act of arching even higher, and a frigid look takes over Sirius’s father’s face. Their eyes slide away from James and settle on Sirius.

“I see,” Mrs Black says coldly. “We should go.”

“Come along,” says Mr Black, laying a heavy hand on Sirius’s shoulder and brusquely turning him away from James. “We’ve left your brother with your uncle.”

Confused, Sirius throws a quick look over his shoulder at an equally bewildered James. Raising his voice to be heard over the cacophony of the platform as he’s led away, he calls, “I’ll owl you, mate. Soon as I get home!”

On his toes to better see around the people between them, James waves energetically. “Enjoy your holidays, Sirius!”

James doesn’t notice the dark silhouette in the tree outside his room until the figure is pushing his window open and slipping into the room, hitting the floor with a thump and a hastily muffled curse.

“Wha?” he sputters, his head jerking up off the pillow, one hand reaching to rub sleep from his eyes and the other going toward the bedside table for his wand.

“It’s me,” the intruder mutters quickly, a dark mass under the window, voice barely more than a whisper.

“Oh,” says James, relaxing a little. The hand near the nightstand switches course slightly and flicks on the lamp. “What’re you doing?”

Getting to his knees and beginning to dust off his jeans, Sirius shrugs without looking at his friend. “Didn’t want to wake your parents, knocking on the front door,” he says.

James considers this announcement for a moment, and then with a shrug of his own, seems to accept it. He looks around for a clock, demanding, “What the hell time is it?”

“Somewhere ‘round four, I reckon,” replies Sirius, rising. “Was past one when I left.”

“Merlin’s balls, that’s too early to be awake,” complains James, shaking his head and slouching back down onto his pillow. “Close that window and get your arse over here.”

Grunting, Sirius obediently eases the window back down and toes out of his shoes before shuffling over to James’s bed. As he’s lifting the covers to climb in, however, the other boy’s voice stops him.

“Padfoot. You know my rule.”

Sirius lets go of the blanket with a sigh, and reaches for the fastening of his jeans. A moment later they hit the floor, along with his jumper and socks. In only a t-shirt and boxers, he crawls into the bed and immediately wraps his arms around James.

“Good boy,” murmurs James, scooting closer. Head nestled in the crook of Sirius’s shoulder, he tilts his face so his lips are lightly pressed to the other boy’s neck, just under his jaw.

“Sorry I woke you,” Sirius replies, shifting to drop a quick kiss on James’s more-than-usually tousled hair.

James chuckles softly. “What were you doing, anyway, sneaking into my house like that?”

“I told you, I didn’t want to—” Sirius starts.

“Yeah, but what were you doing?” interrupts James, with a tiny, impatient shake of his head which rubs his hair against Sirius’s jaw.

Sirius doesn’t answer right away, his breathing just a little fast. Then, “I got sick of listening to my parents, is all. Stupid Pureblood bullshit.”

“Oh.” James is silent a moment. “All right, then,” he says eventually, and snuggles even closer.

Sirius lies there stiffly, James’s arm draped around his hips, without speaking for several minutes, until he can’t seem to take it anymore. “Prongs, you know what this means, right?” he blurts, his voice a touch anxious.

“Mm.” James nuzzles Sirius’s neck for a minute and plants a few slow, open-mouthed kisses before he answers. “You brought your things, right?”

Relieved, Sirius grins at the wall and closes his eyes, his arms tightening around James. “Trunk’s on your porch.”

“Excellent,” declares James, with another kiss. “We’ll tell mum and dad in the morning, then.”

fin

7 December, 1971

Tue, 14 Jul 2009 21:58:14 GMT

Title: 7 December, 1971
Author: duva via garderob
Word Count: ~950
Rating: G/K
Pairing: Nope! Ickle baby S&J. No snoggage whatsoever. V. sad.
Warnings: Er. Fluff. V rusty author?
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Notes: Happy birthday, darling.

"Wake up," James mutters, poking at the sleeping boy’s ear again when the first try proves unsuccessful. "Oi!"

"Gerroff," mumbles his victim, swatting at the annoying hand.

"Sirius," says James, sitting down on the bed, "wake up. Wake up!"

"No."

"But it’s your birthday!"

Sirius opens one rather bleary eye and peers at him.

James throws him a lopsided grin. "You’ve got presents!"

"All right," replies Sirius, sitting up and yawning. "Fine."

James looks somewhat confused; apparently this was not the reaction he was anticipating. He pushes a few wrapped parcels toward the other boy.

Sirius makes a face as he picks up a small one wrapped in green paper. He places it, unopened, on his pillow.

"Aren’t you going to open it?" James asks, now looking surprised in addition to confused.

"It’s silverware," replies Sirius, now shaking a slightly larger box wrapped in plain black paper. "Get it every year. Teaspoons."

James laughs. "Why would your family give you teaspoons for your birthday?"

"And Christmas," adds Sirius. "Family heirlooms." He begins unwrapping the box he’s holding. "Just like this wat –"

He opens the box, revealing a gleaming gold pocket watch. James furrows his brow. "Y’know, for a heirloom, that looks pretty new."

Sirius swallows. "Yeah, it..." He picks it up and turns it over, looking at the back. It’s blank. "Oh."

"What?"

"It’s just that I was supposed to – never mind." Sirius shakes his head, placing the watch back in its box. "Who wants leftovers from the least popular Headmaster Hogwarts has ever had, anyway?" He throws James a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

James returns the smile, pushing another box covered in the same paper towards him. "One more."

"From Regulus," mutters Sirius, tearing unceremoniously at the paper. "Hey, I can actually use this..."

"Is that a quill?" James asks, scrunching up his nose. "Why’d you need another one of those?"

Sirius twirls the brilliantly orange feather quill between his fingers. "It’s a Fwooper quill," he explains, holding it over to James for inspection. "Very fancy."

"... right..."

"Wish he’d gotten me a bright pink one, though," adds Sirius, following it up with his first genuine-looking grin of the day. "Would have given Mother something else to worry about."

James laughs, handing the quill back to Sirius. "Isn’t there a card?"

Sirius’s smile fades again. "My family’s not, er, big on... sentimental things." He looks a little uncomfortable.

"Oh." James pauses for a moment, then grins again. "Well, I got you one." With a bit of a flourish, he reaches behind him and pulls out a gold envelope, followed by a rather grubby looking box. He hands them both to Sirius, who blinks.

"I didn’t have time to wrap it," James says apologetically. "I mean, I had to pack it without mum noticing and all..."

Sirius pulls out the card from the envelope. Gold and scarlet miniature fireworks erupt from the card when he opens it, accompanied by a loud cheer. Two beds over, Peter gives a loud snore and turns over.

Looking up at James, Sirius places the card on his bedside table. "Thank you, James," he says, sounding rather surprised.

Grinning at him, James pushes the box toward him. "Go on."

Sirius pulls off the lid. "... what are they?"

"... are you kidding?" James asks, eyes widening. "You’ve never seen Dungbombs before?!"

"Dungbombs?" Sirius echoes, picking one up and holding it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Only about the best thing ever invented," James explains, his eyes still rather large. "Seriously, mate, what did you learn before coming here?" Sirius shrugs. "Well, I’ll show you how to use them later," adds James. "On the Slytherin of your choice."

Sirius grins back at him, putting the Dungbomb back in the box with the others. "After breakfast, right?" He glances out into the still dark December morning. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Er," James says, as Sirius picks up the previously discarded watch, his eyes widening.

"You woke me up at five?!"

"Sorry," James says, with a shrug and a grin. "Didn’t think."

Sirius’s stomach gives a loud rumble. "Well, now I’m hungry," he accuses. "And breakfast’s not for hours."

"Oh." James pauses, his brow furrowed. "How about," he then suggests, a rather mischievous look forming in his eyes, "we go about seeing where the kitchen is?"

"We’ll get in trouble," Sirius says, even as a similar expression begins to appear on his own face.

"Not if we’re not found out," grins James, getting to his feet and walking over to his trunk. Sirius watches him. "... you can keep a secret, yeah?" asks James, as he lifts the lid open.

Sirius nods. "Of course."

Rummaging through the trunk, James says, "If my mum asks, I haven’t got this."

"All right..."

Standing up and grinning, James pulls out a shimmering piece of cloth, holding it up for Sirius to see.

"... is that what I think it is?" asks Sirius, eyes wide.

James nods, looking very pleased with himself.

"Where’d you get it?"

"Dad," says James simply, motioning for Sirius to join him. "C’mon, let’s get going before these two wake up and want a share."

Grinning widely by now, Sirius walks over to join him. James places an arm around his shoulders, giving a light squeeze. "Happy birthday, mate."

"Yes," mumbles Sirius under his breath, as James throws the cloak around them, "yes, it is."

Dear Sirius: Until the Real Thing Comes Along

Sat, 04 Jul 2009 16:08:27 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius: Until the Real Thing Comes Along
Author: duva & fictionalcandie via garderob
Word Count: ~4350
Rating: NC-17/MA
Pairing: Sirius/OMC (+ angsty one-sided James/Sirius, if you look closely)
Warnings: AU. Sexual content, language, broody emo Sirius.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Universe: Dear Sirius
Notes: Tomorrow, fictionalcandie is leaving duva to return home, so they decided that in celebration of today being their last day together, they would post something. They've picked this. (Some of you may remember how, in one of Sirius's answers during Week Forty-Three, he claimed to have been nineteen when he lost his virginity — which, generally, was correctly identified as a lie. Well, except for how he was nineteen when...)

A Bar, England
18 August 1979
11.49pm

"Bloody buggering Merlin," mumbles Sirius, sticking a fresh cigarette in his mouth as he stares morosely into his whisky.

"What was that?" asks the man sliding into the seat next to his, producing a zippo and holding it to the unlit tip of the cigarette. He gives Sirius a soft half-smile.

Sirius glances up, then back down quickly. "Rubbish whisky here," he replies, falsely bright, after a deep breath to light his smoke.

"Reckon it's half water," agrees the man, putting away the lighter and stretching out a hand. "Mark."

There's the smallest of pauses before Sirius reaches out to shake the proffered hand. "Si," he replies. "Hi."

Mark cocks his head as he shakes Sirius's hand. "See? That's... unusual."

Sirius gives a small, sheepish smile. "Short for Sirius."

"That's even more unusual."

"Ah." Sirius makes a face. "My family was a bit... special."

"Well, at least you're one of a kind," Mark smiles. "So. What brings you here, Si?"

"My roommate and his latest are a bit... loud," explains Sirius, grimacing and downing most of the whisky in his glass. "I'm escaping."

"Ah." Mark pauses, then flags down the bartender. "Two whiskys, please."

Sirius's brows wrinkle slightly. "That's awfully nice of you."

"Look like you need it," Mark says lightly.

"Ah." Sirius glances at his nearly empty glass. He smiles and drags in a lungful of cigarette smoke. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," replies Mark, sliding one of the glasses the bartender hands him over to Sirius. "So. Not to sound like a walking cliche, but I don't think I've seen you here before."

"That's probably because I've never been here before," says Sirius, accepting his drink and staring at it.

"Ah." Mark pauses. "And..."

"It was the first place I saw when I decided to stop driving," adds Sirius, with part of a grin. "I guess I've never seen you here before, either."

Mark raises an eyebrow at him, grinning. "I live upstairs."

Sirius raises his eyebrows back. "Oh? Sounds... convenient."

"Dangerous for my liver, though."

"One would hope you'd have some self-control," offers Sirius, looking just a bit amused as he takes another drag from his cigarette. "I haven't."

Mark pauses, his drink halfway to his mouth. "Really."

"Mm," replies Sirius, from behind his own glass. "None."

"Pity," Mark replies lightly. He runs his free hand through his longish dark blonde hair.

"Good thing I don't live this close to a bar, right?" Sirius's amused expression fates most of the way. "Probably, anyway."

"Probably," agrees Mark. His gaze travels from Sirius's face, down his upper body, and back up to meet his gaze. "How old are you, Si?"

Sirius glances at Mark, one black brow arched. "Why?"

Mark glances at the drink in his hand.

"I bought some of my own before you got here," Sirius says defensively. "How old do you think I am?"

Mark shakes his head. "It's just that I've got whisky that's not fifty percent water upstairs," he says. "So as long as you're over 18..."

Sirius stares at him, brow still raised.

"I don't much fancy the police knocking on my door for serving minors."

Sirius stares a second longer. Then he smirks. "No worries. I'm legal."

"Well then." Mark smirks back. "What do you say?"

"Yes... to the whisky," says Sirius, pulling out one of his more charming smiles. "For now."

Nodding, Mark waves over the bartender again and slips him a tenner. "Keep the change."

Sirius's eyebrows raise again. "Generous," he remarks, blowing out a puff of smoke.

Mark raises his eyebrows right back. "They overcharge here," he says. "And if I play nice, they give me free coffee in the morning."

"Well, then." Sirius finishes his whisky and stands, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray on the counter. "Consider my snarkiness rescinded."

Smiling, Mark stands as well. "Don't mention it."

"All right. Which way to this upstairs of yours?"

Mark leads the way, out the back door and up a flight of stairs, stopping outside a door. His fingers skim lightly down Sirius's arm as he reaches for his keys. Sirius shivers visibly.

"You really do live upstairs," he mutters, as Mark opens the door.

"Very convenient," Mark mumbles, stepping in behind him. "Welcome to my castle."

Sirius smirks, looking around. "The serfs been by recently?"

"Had to let them go," Mark replies, rather close to Sirius's ear as he passes him. "Caught them stealing the silver." He grabs two shot glasses out of the cupboard.

"Naughty buggers," returns Sirius, hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Didn't steal the booze, did they?"

Mark lifts up a bottle of whisky.

Sirius grins. "Fabulous," he says, quite low.

Mark keeps his gaze locked with Sirius's as he pours the shots. Sirius's grin slips a bit before getting slowly wider.

"You've a very steady hand, Mark," he murmurs.

Mark licks his lips.

Sirius tilts his head to the side. "Practice much?"

"Natural talent," Mark mumbles, walking over to him and handing him one of the glasses. His hand lingers.

Sirius's eyes drift down to where their fingers are touching. His lips part slightly, his breath rushing out between them.

"Cheers," Mark says, rather huskily.

Sirius glances back up at Mark, through his lashes. "Ah... bottoms up."

Mark downs his shot in one go. Sirius sips at his first, then makes a pleased noise and does likewise.

"Good liquor," he says, once he's swallowed.

"Thought you deserved the best," Mark replies, eyes fixed obviously at Sirius's lips.

Sirius flashes a slightly too-wide grin. "Why, thank you."

"And company," adds Mark, taking a small step closer.

"Of course," agrees Sirius. "You can't drink good whisky alone, right?"

"No," murmurs Mark, eyes still fixed on Sirius's lips.

Sirius lowers his own gaze to Mark's mouth. "There are, er, other things you can't do alone..."

Mark swallows. "Indeed." He takes another step towards him.

"Feel like any of those, Mark?" Sirius asks softly, moving the few inches left between them, so their bodies brush.

"Definitely," Mark whispers, his eyes drifting shut.

"Oh," murmurs Sirius, lifting a hand and carefully trailing it over Mark's cheek before cupping the back of his head. "Well, fancy that, so do I."

Mark kisses him. Sirius's response is slightly hesitant, but his hand is steady against the other man's head. One of Mark's arms snakes around Sirius's waist, pulling him even closer, as he deepens the kiss.

Sirius makes a throaty noise, parting his lips eagerly, his free arm moving to the back of Mark's hips, still holding the shot glass.

Mark pulls back slightly. "God, but you're a pretty one," he murmurs against Sirius's lips.

Sirius grins. "Why, thank you," he whispers, sounding a bit smug. "I'm about to drop this glass, though, and that wouldn't be pretty."

Raising his eyebrows, Mark releases him — rather reluctantly, it must be said.

"You don't want bits of glass all over your floor, do you?" inquires Sirius, taking Mark's glass in his other hand and quickly moving to set both on the nearest flat surface.

"No," Mark agrees, taking a step in Sirius's direction. "Would have to clean it up myself, and all..."

"Not very fun," murmurs Sirius, tilting his head to the side and peering at Mark through his lashes again.

Mark lets his gaze drift down Sirius's body.

Sirius's grin gets a bit wider. "You can touch, you know. Pretty doesn't break that easily."

"Come here, then."

After a second's pause, Sirius moves back over, one arm slipping back around Mark's hips and the other going behind his shoulders.His lips, after a moment, go to the other man's. Mark grips his hips as he kisses him back.

Sirius's hips move, very slightly, forward as he parts his lips. Groaning, Mark's hands tighten their grip and pull Sirius even closer.

Sirius makes a small, surprised noise when their hips touch.

"Hello," Mark mumbles against his lips.

"Hey," Sirius mumbles back with a bit of an uncertain growl.

"D'you fancy taking this somewhere more... comfortable?"

Sirius pulls his head away so he can see the other man. "Somewhere such as...?"

Mark smirks at him. "How adventurous are you feeling, Si?"

Sirius opens his mouth to reply — but closes it again. He glances down at Mark's lips and his brows draw together slightly.

".... what?"

"I've never done this before," Sirius says abruptly, with the tone of an accusation.

"Oh." Mark pauses, his grip on Sirius's hips lessening slightly. "This, meaning...?"

Sirius's arms tighten in proportion to the lessening of Mark's hold. "Meaning normally it's women who pick me up."

Mark raises his eyebrows, looking rather surprised. "Really?"

"Yes," Sirius nods, his lips quirking at the corners. "As in, exclusively."

"Huh," Mark mumbles, his eyes darting to Sirius's mouth. "And tonight you were... in an experimental mood, as it were?"

"Tonight, you saw me first."

"Lucky me."

"Lucky us," says Sirius, leaning back in fractionally. "But, that was your answer."

Mark leans back in, kissing him softly. "How about the couch, then?" he whispers.

"Oh, I like couches," murmurs Sirius, tilting his head a bit to the side before kissing Mark again.

One of Mark's hands slides up Sirius's back, tangling in his hair and pulling him closer. The other stays at his hip.

Without removing his own arms, Sirius takes a step toward the couch. Mark moans into his mouth.

Sirius goes another step, taking his arm from behind Mark's shoulders and putting his hand on the side of the other man's neck. "We could move faster without the kissing," he whispers.

"What?" Mark asks, with a small laugh.

"... not what I meant," Sirius smirks back, removing his arm from Mark's hip and putting that hand on his chest.

"Pity," grins Mark. "By God, you're gorgeous."

"Am I," says Sirius, pushing gently.

"Excessively so."

Sirius chuckles, making a slow circle on Mark's neck with his thumb. "Your adjective usage is a bit excessive."

"What would you rather I said, then?" asks Mark, flopping down onto the sofa, still holding on to Sirius's hands.

Sirius follows him down, kneeling precariously at his side. "Compliments are not necessary," he mutters, kissing Mark's jaw.

Mark pulls him into his laps. "What if I like giving compliments?"

"Pretty people often do," Sirius answers, both his hands slipping down Mark's torso to his waist.

"Was that a compliment?"

Sirius chuckles. "You know, normally, people don't have to ask after I compliment them while sitting in their lap."

"Do this a lot, do you?" Mark murmurs, both of his hands dropping to rest lightly on Sirius's thighs.

Sirius shifts until he's straddling Mark's upper legs. He kisses him instead of answering. Mark doesn't seem to mind, as his arms wrap around Sirius, pulling him closer as he deepens the kiss. Sirius moans.

"Don't answer that," whispers Mark.

"No?" asks Sirius, his fingers gripping Mark's hips.

"You're here with me now," Mark replies, followed by a lingering kiss. "All that matters."

Sirius scoffs softly, covering it by deepening the kisses. Mark abandons talking all together.

Restlessly, Sirius presses his hips down against Mark's. Arching his own hips upwards, Mark breaks the kiss, leaning his head on Sirius's shoulder.

Sirius presses down again, his hips taking on a slow rhythm. His hands start tugging Mark's shirt up.

"Steady, sweetie."

"What?" asks Sirius, his lips on the other man's neck.

He's still tugging on Mark's shirt.

"Are you in a hurry?"

"Not especially," Sirius laughs. He breaks the rhythm of his hips to roll them in a small circle. "Are you?"

Mark's head falls back against the back of the sofa. "What does it feel like?"

"Well," murmurs Sirius, his movements slowing teasingly, "you're certainly enjoying yourself..."

"So're you," Mark moans.

Sirius bites his lower lip. "Mhmm..."

One of Mark's hands drops back to Sirius's thigh, sliding upwards slowly.

"Is there a problem with hurrying?" Sirius asks in a low husk, tugging more firmly on the shirt.

"Fuck, no," Mark laughs, releasing Sirius briefly to allow him to get rid of the offending garment.

Sirius tosses it aside as soon as it clears Mark's head. He smirks. Mark eyes Sirius, still fully dressed.

Sirius's hands trail from Mark's shoulders down his naked chest to grip his waist again.

"Take it off," Mark mutters.

Sirius raises his eyebrows. "Excuse me?" His fingers are moving slowly around to Mark's back.

"Your shirt," Mark clarifies, arching into Sirius's touch. "Take it off."

"Please don't tell me what to do," growls Sirius, leaning down to lick across Mark's torso.

"What if I ask nicely?"

"I'll probably do it," answers Sirius, while trailing his lips up Mark's neck.

"Then," Mark says, shivering slightly, "take off your shirt, please?"

"All right." Sirius pulls his hands from behind Mark's back. His lips still on the other man's skin, he begins unbuttoning his shirt. Mark licks his lips.

As soon as all the buttons are undone, Sirius shrugs out of it, letting it slide from his shoulders.

"Nice," Mark murmurs.

"Like it?" breathes Sirius, into his ear.

His hands return to Mark's back.

Mark's hand grazes Sirius's crotch in reply. Sirius gasps, then presses forward into his hand.

Mark smirks.

Breathing heavily, Sirius's right hand moves from Mark's back, coming forward and grabbing his hand, pressing it firmly against his own erection, through the trousers.

"Oh, you're definitely having fun," Mark whispers, increasing the pressure slightly.

"Mer—Christ," hisses Sirius. His fingers on Mark's back clench.

"Why don't you lay back," Mark suggests, his voice rather low.

"Nothing behind me," Sirius gasps, his hips rocking again, pushing into Mark's hand, which he's still holding against himself.

Mark turns them both around, so that his own back is against one of the armrests of the sofa. "Now?"

"Now it's a good idea," says Sirius while leaning back, letting go of Mark as he goes, so he can use his elbows to prop himself up.

Mark licks his lips again. "So pretty," he mumbles.

"I'm not a girl," mutters Sirius, with a smirk.

"Thank God for that."

Sirius snorts. "Stop staring and do something, already," he complains, a bit more loudly than he's said anything in awhile.

Mark reaches over and undoes his zipper.

Sirius's eyes fall closed. "Shit."

"Does this count as something?"

"Uh." Sirius swallows. "Yes?"

"Good." Mark tugs at the now open jeans.

Sirius lifts his hips and wriggles a bit. "Fuck... Boots," he gasps.

"I like the boots."

"I'd like my jeans to actually come off," counters Sirius, eyes still closed.

"Fine," Mark replies, with a bit of a grin. "If they must." He tugs one boot off. "Sexy."

"What, my foot?" mutters Sirius, sounding rather amused.

"The boots."

Sirius grins, tipping his head back. "They go with the bike."

Mark groans. "Motorbike?"

Sirius opens his eyes, sitting back up a little. He's smirking. "Didn't I mention that?"

"Can I keep you?" Mark asks, as he slides the other boot off.

"You really wouldn't want me past tonight."

"No?"

Sirius chuckles, brightly but a bit brittlely. "I've been told I'm difficult to put up with."

"Can't believe that," Mark replies, his hand once more going to Sirius's crotch.

"Ah, fuck."

Mark raises an eyebrow.

"Can we stop talking now," manages Sirius, closing his eyes again as he arches his hips.

"Might be needing my mouth for other purposes anyway," Mark replies. His hand slips inside Sirius's underwear.

Sirius makes a strangled noise.

"What do you say?"

"God, shut up," groans Sirius, shoving his own jeans down.

Mark takes over, pulling both jeans and underwear down and off. After helpfully kicking them off, Sirius lies all the way on his back, scooting up the couch a bit.

Mark follows him up. "Hey, gorgeous," he murmurs, kissing him once more.

"I fucking said shut up.” Sirius grabs Mark by his hips and pulls him down.

"Careful, darling," Mark gasps, sliding down somewhat and kissing Sirius's neck.

Sirius moans. "Why?"

"Don't damage the goods."

"Do you break easily?" asks Sirius, tipping his head further back.

"I meant yours." Mark's lips trail lower.

"If you weren't wearing jeans you'd be less likely to injure me," moans Sirius, hand firming around Mark's buttocks.

"All in good time," Mark replies, flicking his tongue over a nipple.

Sirius hisses. "And now is not a good time because...?"

"Because," mumbles Mark, "I'm taking care of you now."

"Nice of you," moans Sirius, as Mark's tongue touches his nipple again.

Mark moans against his skin in reply.

"D'you normally do... that?"

"When I'm feeling nice," Mark replies, moving to Sirius's other nipple.

"Often feel nice?" moans Sirius, one of his hands come up to tangle in Mark's blonde hair.

"What does it matter?"

"Doesn't." Sirius arches his hips up. "Fucking shit, you sure you can't make the stupid denim go away?"

Mark grins, sitting back a little. "If you insist." He unbuttons his jeans. "On one condition."

Sirius cracks his eyes open. "Yeah...?"

"I still get to.... take care of you first."

Sirius laughs. "Like I'd object to that."

"Good." Mark slides out of his jeans and pants. "Happy?"

"When you're back on top of me, I will be."

Mark grins at him. "Oh yeah?"

Sirius grabs Mark's hips again. He tugs.

"What did I say about damaging the goods?" Nevertheless, Mark lets his weight back on top of Sirius.

Sirius groans sharply. "Mer— God, that really does feel good," he mutters.

"Good," Mark says shortly, kissing him again.

Sirius drags one of his hands up Mark's torso to his hair, holding the other man still while he deepens the kiss.

Mark lets him for a minute, before he pulls away. "Enough?"

"Enough?"

"Can I take care of you now?" One of Mark's hands trails down Sirius's side.

"Oh, shit, yes," moans Sirius.

"Good," Mark grins, starting to descend down Sirius's body again. Sirius tips his head up, opening his eyes slightly to watch the other man's head approach his erection.

"May I?"

"I think I might object if you don't," mumbles Sirius, his hips arching up, thrusting his cock toward the other man.

"Good," says Mark shortly, his tongue darting out and grazing the head of Sirius's cock.

Sirius moans again.

"So pretty," Mark whispers again, before bending down and taking the tip into his mouth.

"Fuck," mutters Sirius, his hand going to the back of Mark's head again.

Apparently taking the hint, Mark slides lower on Sirius's cock.

Sirius shifts one of his legs, moving it to press the heel of his foot against Mark's back, and Mark's left hand slides underneath Sirius's buttock. Sirius arches his hips higher, applying a bit of pressure to Mark's head at the same time.

Moaning rather loudly, Mark takes even more of Sirius into his mouth.

"Fuck me," Sirius groans, fingers tightening in Mark's hair.

Mark's hand shifts slightly, until his fingers are brushing Sirius's entrance. Sirius's hips jerk. He makes a quiet noise similar to a startled yelp.

Moaning again, Mark swirls his tongue around the head of Sirius's cock as he intensifies the pressure of his hand.

After a brief, frozen moment, Sirius tries to use his grip on Mark's hair to pull his head away. "Uh," he says, "remember how I said I'd never done this before?"

"Mm," Mark manages, without removing either mouth nor hand.

"Um... could you... not?"

Mark lets him slip free with a soft 'pop'. "Not what?"

Sirius wriggles his hips, a bit uncomfortably. "Uh, that."

"This?"

"With your hand," says Sirius, rather quietly.

"Oh." Mark pauses, then removes his hand. "Of course." He leans down until his lips are brushing Sirius's cock again. "This still all right?"

"Yeah," Sirius mutters, still sounding a small bit uncomfortable.

Mark glances up at him as he takes him into his mouth again. Sirius, still looking down, groans, and his eyes fall shut again.

Both of his hands now firmly placed on Sirius's thighs, Mark begins to move his head.

"... ah, fuck, yes," moans Sirius. "That is nice."

Mark moans again.

Sirius jerks in response to the vibrations, arching his hips up and pushing his erection further into Mark's mouth.

Speeding up his movements slightly, Mark moans again.

"You're rather fucking good at this," Sirius hisses.

Mark glances up at him through his lashes, taking Sirius even deeper.

Sirius arches his hips again, throwing his head back and tightening his fingers.

"Close," he whispers. "So... close..."

Looking rather amused, Mark swirls his tongue again, speeding up even more.

"Fuck!"

One of Mark's hands moves to Sirius's balls. Sirius bites his lip again, writhing a bit. Mark tightens his mouth around him.

With a hoarse noise and another upwards thrust of his hips, Sirius twists his fingers in Mark's hair and comes.

Moaning again, loud and drawn-out, Mark keeps his mouth where it is as he swallows.

"Oh, shit, that's hot," Sirius moans, pressing down a little more on Mark's head without really meaning too.

A few moments later, Mark lets Sirius's cock slip from his mouth. "Thank you." He grins up at him.

"... thank me?" laughs Sirius, quite languidly, but very amused.

"Mm." Mark leans his head against Sirius's thigh.

"The hell for?"

"I had fun."

"My cock in your mouth was fun?" Sirius asks, shuffling himself until he's propped on his elbows once more, squinting down his body at Mark.

Pressing a kiss to Sirius's thigh, Mark nods. "Why, does that surprise you?"

"Well, just... girls usually complain a bit..."

"I'm not a girl."

"I noticed," grins Sirius, gently tugging at Mark's hair to indicate he move back up Sirius's body.

"Good," Mark says, pressing another kiss to Sirius's thigh before complying.

Sirius kisses him.

Mark presses his erection into Sirius's thigh.

"You're not done," remarks Sirius, into his mouth.

"What?"

Sirius grins a bit. He presses his thigh upwards. "Not done."

"Oh." Mark grins back. "So it would seem."

"Should we do something about it?"

"Oh, I don't know..."

Sirius grins. Mark presses his hips downward again.

Sirius slips his hands to the other man's hips. "What would you like me to do?" he asks against Mark's lips.\

"Now there's an offer I don't get every day..."

"What can I say? Getting head makes me nice..."

Mark grins and kisses him again. "What do you feel like doing?" he mumbles against Sirius's lips.

"Suggest something," mutters Sirius, his thumbs brushing circles on Mark's hipbones.

Exhaling, Mark pushes against Sirius's leg again. "God, I don't care, just get me off."

Sirius grins, kissing him again. One hand moves between them, wrapping around Mark's erection. "Yeah?"

"Yeaaaah."

"No preference?" he asks, stroking slowly.

"Whatever you enjoy doing," Mark replies, his eyes closing. "Or think you'd enjoy, as the case may be."

"Christ, but you're easy to please," mutters Sirius, with a slight squeeze.

"Sometimes."

Sirius grins again. "On your back, then."

Mark raises an eyebrow at him, looking rather delighted. "Move, then."

"You're on top of me," Sirius reminds, laughingly, while shimmying sideways so Mark can roll over.

He does, spreading his legs rather obviously. Sirius settles between them, scooting down 'til his face is level with the other man's hips.

"Nice," breathes Mark.

Sirius leans down and licks the leaking tip of Mark's cock.

"Very nice."

Imitating what Mark did earlier, Sirius licks him again, before taking the very tip in his mouth.

Mark moans loudly, his head falling back. "That's good."

"Mm?" hums Sirius questioningly, sliding his mouth a bit further down.

"Oh, God!"

Sounding a bit pleased with himself, Sirius hums again, taking even more of Mark's cock into his mouth. His free hand moves down to Mark's balls.

Moaning loudly again, Mark moves a hand to the back of Sirius's head. "You —"

Sirius responds to the pressure on his head by moving so that the wet heat of his mouth engulfs the entirety of Mark's erection, beginning to suck steadily.

"Now I really want to keep you," Mark manages.

Sirius gently rolls Mark's balls in his hand, beginning to bob his head a bit, still sucking.

"Either you're a liar or a natural," moans Mark, "and either way, fucking bloody hell, that's good."

Sirius just hums, moving his head up and down more quickly. Mark moans very, very loudly. Sirius sucks more strongly, pulling back until just the head is in his mouth and swirling his tongue around the tip.

"Oh, just like that!"

Sirius repeats the motion, then quickly slides his mouth back down the length of Mark's cock.

"Si," Mark warns.

Sirius sucks more strongly, fondling his balls again.

"I'm going to — oh —"

Sirius hums again, laving his tongue against the underside of Mark's cock.

Mark's fingers dig into the back of Sirius's skull. "You may want to –"

Sirius's fingers roll Mark's balls again. He makes no move to withdraw his mouth.

With another very loud moan, Mark tenses and comes into Sirius's mouth.

Sirius swallows.

Mark stays where he is, panting loudly.

Throat working, Sirius licks is way back up Mark's cock, finally letting it slip free and smirking up at the older man.

"Holy shit."

"Mm," Sirius murmured.

"... you're sure you've never done that before?"

"Never," insists Sirius, his smirk growing just a bit. "I'm a quick study."

Mark grins at him. "A very quick study."

Sirius chuckles deeply. "To be fair, you were by far not my first experience on the receiving end. I, er, might have taken a few notes."

"I feel as though I ought to send a thank you note to all these girls," murmurms Mark, sitting up. "Care for some more whisky?"

"Please," Sirius says, sitting up as well. "Whisky is always appropriate."

Dear Sirius: My Best Friend's Girl

Sat, 27 Jun 2009 11:56:42 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius: My Best Friend's Girl
Author: duva & fictionalcandie via garderob
Word Count: ~4000
Rating: R/M
Pairing: James/OFC, one-sided James/Sirius
Warnings: AU. Sexual content, language, unhappy Sirius.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Universe: Dear Sirius
Notes: We said you hadn't seen the last of Dear Sirius, didn't we? Here, have some pre-story angst.

Hogwarts, Scotland
31 May 1978
11.18 pm

Sirius squints at the clock on his nightstand, trying to read it the moonlight. After a moment, he gives up, and glances instead at James's bed; still empty. Sighing quietly, he pulls the curtain closed again, letting his head fall back onto the pillow with a soft, muffled thump.

A few minutes later, soft footsteps fall outside the door, accompanied by a muffled giggle. Sirius lifts his head, staring at the curtains, in the direction of the dormitory door. He frowns.

The door slowly opens and James peeks his head inside. "Guys?" he whispers, very very quietly.

Hidden on his bed, Sirius's mouth opens to reply, but he closes it again when another, obviously feminine giggle comes from the other side of the door.

"Okay, be quiet," James instructs, stepping inside and holding the door open for his companion.

Unseen, Sirius's face tightens. He rests his head back on his pillow. The door shuts behind the pair, who make their way towards James's bed.

"Are you sure they're asleep?" the girl questions, while tugging at his clothes.

"Can't you hear Pete snoring?" James whispers back, throwing his shirt over his head. "And Remus is always out like a light at nine."

The girl giggles again. "What about Black?" she asks, her fingers fumbling with his belt buckle.

Sirius's breathing stops briefly.

"He'd have said something," James breathes, before leaning in to kiss her.

"And we won't wake them?" she manages, between kisses and removing her own shirt.

"You can stay quiet, can't you?"

"The question is, can you?" Giggling, she pushes him onto his bed.

"It depends," James replies, the grin in his voice obvious. "What're you going to do to me?"

Closing his eyes, Sirius takes a deep, slow breath in through his nose.

"Very, very bad things," the girl declares, her voice dropping naughtily.

James lets out a long, heavy breath.

"Can you... take it?" she questions, crawling onto the bed on top of him, a giggle creeping into her words.

"Why don't you find out?"

Eyes still closed, Sirius carefully rolls onto his side, facing away from James's bed.

"Let's," the girl says, followed by the sound of something being thrown to the floor, and her laughing question, "You're not eager at all, are you?"

"Not at a – Merlin, Zen, I love your boobs."

Sirius pulls his pillow over his head.

"Well, I love your arms," she counters, in a whisper.

A wet sort of sound follows.

The girl moans. "God," she pants. "Your mouth."

James's reply is a sort of muffled groan.

Fabric rustles, and a spring squeaks.

"Jim!"

Sirius shoves the pillow harder against his head, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Your skirt needs to go," James mumbles. "And these evil knickers."

"Want to burn them?" she snickers, the bed squeaking again. More fabric rustles, and something hits the floor. "Pants, Jim."

"God, yes."

The girl moans, muffled but still audible. "Mm, yes, please, Jim."

"Now?" James asks, more of a pant than a word.

"I don't get the magic hands?" she says, poutingly, but the bed creaks again and she gasps sharply.

Sirius swallows thickly, the pillow pressed hard to his head, and draws his legs up, curling in on himself.

"What, what I was doing downstairs didn't count?" James asks, as the bed creaks even louder. "Please –"

"No, I couldn't enjoy that properly," says the girl, her voice hitching in the middle of the words. "Some poor little first year could have walked in and seen your hand up my skirt—"

" – oh."

She giggles huskily. "Like it on the bottom, Jim?"

"Get a move on."

"I'm moving, I'm moving," she says, still giggling. The bedsprings begin creaking rhythmically. Sirius swallows again, the hand not holding the pillow to his head fisting around his bedcovers.

James chokes back a moan.

"Are you sure you can be quiet? I'm not even trying."

"Well, if you want to wake up Si — oh."

In the other bed, Sirius tenses, a low whimper escaping into the pillow. He shifts uncomfortably, his legs easing away from his torso, to allow for the emerging tent in his boxers.

"Would we?" the girl asks, around a moan.

"Shh."

"He's a light sleeper, then?" she whispers.

"Please stop talking about Sirius while we're having sex," James manages, as the creaking from the bed gets louder.

"Sorry," she gasps, then, "Oh."

"Yeah?"

"God."

James grunts. "Oh, Zen —"

Sirius whimpers again, even more softly.

"Fuck, Jim—" the girl moans back, as the creaking gets faster and louder.

"Be quiet, I told you —"

"I can't —"

James moans again. "Like that, do you?"

She gasps. "Oh, god, yes, yes, I like it."

"Magic hands, eh?"

Sirius shifts his hips, wincing at raspiness of James's voice.

James moans again.

"Oh, oh — Jim — OH!"

"Quiet!" James hisses.

Sirius tenses further.

"Sor— god —ry," mumbles the girl, an octave or two higher.

"Shit, Zen, I won't –"

"Jiiiiiim," she whimpers.

"Come on, baby," James moans in reply.

"Almost," she pants, voice no where close to quiet, "almost, yes, yes, yes — oh Christ!"

"C'mon —"

She makes high, indistinct noise. James lets out a smug, drawn-out moan.

Sirius rolls onto his back, both hands desperately pressing the pillow against his face to stifle a moan of his own.

"Just —"

"Mm, Jim..."

James hisses very loudly, as the creaking loses its rhythm.

The girl moans happily. "C'mon, now, baby."

The noise that leaves James's mouth is rather incoherent.

The creaking ceases.

"We couldn't do that in the common room," the girl giggles.

"Well, we could have," James says, laughing. "Might have been fun."

"And the poor first years we'd be scarring for life?"

"That's what therapy is for," James mumbles. "Stay the night?"

She yawns. "You don't think your mates'll mind?"

"They don't usually join me in bed, y'know."

Sirius flinches under his pillow.

"Do they walk around starkers after they wake up?"

"You wish!"

She giggles again. "I guess I could stay. You're a wonderful pillow."

"C'mere," James mumbles. "G'night kiss."

"Mm... g'night, Jim, baby."

"Night, sweetpea," James whispers back.

Sirius waits until their breathing has evened out and they seem to be asleep before he pulls his pillow away, exposing his damp face to the room.

"Good night, James," he whispers, hoarsely.

Northern England
2 September 1978
1.04 pm

".... I do kind of like this kitchen, y'know," James says, pensively. "Nice counters."

"Yeah?" asks Sirius, rather disinterestedly. He swings the toe of his sneaker against a low cabinet. "Ugly colour, though, don't you think?"

"Easily fixed, that," James ponders. "And it's not like we'll be here forever."

Sirius turns away, peering blindly into the dark pantry. "No?"

"Well," James says, looking slightly uneasy, "I suppose once Zen finishes school she'll want to, y'know..."

"Right," mutters Sirius distantly. He kicks the door of the pantry, too. "Not like I care what the kitchen looks like, anyway, I guess."

"D'you like the bedrooms, though?"

"They're all right." Sirius kicks the pantry a second time before turning back to James. "Decent-sized, I thought."

"Right next to each other," James replies with a small frown.

Sirius frowns as well. After a moment, he moves out into the hall, speaking over his shoulder. "Y'reckon that's a problem?"

"Wellllllllll..."

"... Guess so."

"I mean." James flushes slightly. "Zen'll be over when she can, and if you want to bring a girl home —"

"No, we wouldn't want me listening to you and Zenevieva, would we," interrupts Sirius. He kicks the post at the end of the banister in the front hall. "Pity it's only a two-bedroom, eh?"

"D'you really have to kick every wall you see?"

Sirius shrugs. "Have to make sure it's all sturdy, don't I."

"Well, don't break it," James says, frowning slightly. "This might end up being our home, y'know."

"Not forever," mutters Sirius, eyes on his toes and his back to James.

James ignores him, turning and throwing his arm around his shoulders. "Think of all the fun times we'll have."

"Yeah," Sirius agrees, forcing a smile. "Just loads. You, me and Zenevieva."

"Don't be like that."

Sirius keeps smiling flatly, though his eyes slid away to stare at a wall. "You know," he starts, obviously reluctant, "you don't have to get a place with me, James—"

" — but I want to, so be quiet," James says firmly. "Besides, you'll find a girl of your own soon enough."

"... yeah," mutters Sirius, sighing silently. "Right."

"I mean, you're quite the catch," James continues, patting Sirius on the shoulder. "Who wouldn't want to date you?" His hand comes up to ruffle the hair on the back of Sirius's hair.

Sirius's smile goes tight around the edges. "Who wouldn't, indeed."

James's arm drops back down as he peers into the next room. "I dunno, I don't really like this bathroom, do you?"

"It sucks," replies Sirius, feelingly.

"... let's go to the next one, shall we?" James suggests. "Maybe the realtor for that one'll be cute." He winks at Sirius.

"We've met him already," Sirius deadpans. "He wasn't."

"... oh."

"I want lunch, actually," Sirius declares, heading for the front door. "Let's go home and see if Not-Mum'll make us some sandwiches."

"If that's what you want," James agrees. "I doubt you'll find any cute girls in my mum's kitchen, though."

"But you'll be there," mutters Sirius, with a sideways glance at him. He hesitates for a moment. "And you're cute."

James blinks at him for a moment, before laughing heartily. "C'mon, mate, let's go get food. You're delirious."

"... I guess I must be," Sirius says, after another moment. He chuckles, perhaps a little cynically. "Food it is, then."

Residence of Sirius Black and James Potter
28 October 1978
4.44 am

Rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and smothering a yawn with the other, Sirius trudges down the hall into the kitchen and heads for the fridge. After a few steps he stops, staring at the figure sitting at the table.

"Oh, bugger!" the girl exclaims, getting to her feet and pulling at the t-shirt she's wearing to make sure she's covered.

Sirius's eyes follow the movement of her hands. His eyebrows draw together. "Zenevieva," he says, almost a question.

"Er, good morning," Zenevieva replies, still tugging at the t-shirt with one hand, whilst the other attempts to flatten her hair down.

Sirius frowns. "Where is James?"

"In bed."

"Ah." Sirius glances at the kitchen clock. He winces slightly. "Right."

".... why are you awake before five on a Sunday morning?" Zenevieva asks, following his gaze.

"Bugger if I know," he mutters, continuing toward the fridge, though he doesn't take his eyes off Zenevieva for more than a few seconds at a time.

"We didn't, er, keep you up, did we?"

Sirius freezes for an instant, before shrugging slightly. "It's not a big deal, Zenevieva."

Zenevieva looks very uncomfortable.

Juice carton in hand, Sirius turns to face her. "So," he says, sounding almost as uncomfortable as she looks. "You'll be needing to get back to school soon, then?"

"Er, yeah, I— I need to be back before breakfast." She clears her throat. "Don't think McGonagall would appreciate me being gone."

"No." Sirius nods a bit stiffly, making a visible effort to take his eyes off the t-shirt she's wearing. "They... don't really like it when you sneak out."

"Even if it is to see the former golden boy of Gryffindor." She tugs at the hem again.

Sirius closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Probably your parents wouldn't like it much, either."

She glances up at him. "You won't tell, will you?"

"What?" Sirius's head jerks back and his eyes open again. He gives her a rather incredulous stare.

"Jim always says you'd never," Zenevieva replies, fiddling more than ever with the shirt.

A muscle along Sirius's jaw twitches. "I don't tell," he mutters shortly.

"Well." She pauses, then smiles rather apprehensively at him. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he replies, smiling rather flatly back at her. "James knows I'd do anything for him."

She nods. "I guess I, uh, best go say bye to Jim."

"Yeah," agrees Sirius, finally glancing away from the t-shirt. He stares at the wall behind her, past her enormous mass of dark blond hair. "You'd better."

"We'll, er, try to keep it down next time."

Sirius nods and murmurs something indistinct.

"It was good seeing you," Zenevieva offers. "You look well."

"Yeah... you, too."

Clearing her throat, Zenevieva exits the kitchen.

Once she's gone, Sirius laughs humourlessly, shaking his head, and mutters to himself, "His favourite bloody shirt, no less."

Residence of Sirius Black and James Potter
13 December 1978
1.35 pm

"... and I'm sorry, but I don't get it," complains Zenevieva, waving one arm as she continues pacing in front of James's couch.

"Get what, exactly?" asks James, frowning. He's sprawled on his father's old ugly armchair, his arms crossed over his chest. "I want to spend time with my best mate."

"But you live with him!" Zenevieva exclaims, rounding on him with a huff. "You spend time with him every day. You don't spend time with me except on holidays."

James's frown increases. "But it's the holidays. Christmas."

"Yes." She crosses her arms. "But I had to come here."

".... and?"

"... and, I've been home for four days, Jim!"

James's arms fly out to the side. "And?!"

Zenevieva huffs again, stomping her foot. "Is that all you can bloody say?"

"What the hell do you want me to say, Zen?" James exclaims, rather louder than necessary. "We're spending time together now, aren't we?"

"We're fighting now!" she retorts hotly. "Is that how you spend your time with him, too?"

James raises an eyebrow at her. "No."

Zenevieva more or less ignores his response. "Do you enjoy fighting with me?"

"No!"

"Well then," she declares, uncrossing her arms to plant her hands on her hips. "You ought to pay a little bit more attention to me, don't you think?"

"I — Zen, I've had practice!" James stands up, waving his arms slightly. "I do have to work, you know!"

"You're not at practice all the time," Zenevieva snaps back. "You could come and see me in the evenings, or something."

"Yes," James says, raising an eyebrow. "I can sleep when I'm dead."

"God!" she throws her arms up. "How can you have time to spend with your best mate, but none to spend with me?!"

"I never said that!"

"You did, just now!"

"I did not!"

"Yes, you did!" Zenevieva points an accusing finger at him. "You know what I think, Jim?"

James crosses his arms over his chest again. "What do you think, Zen?"

"I think you need to make up your bloody mind!"

"... excuse me?"

"You heard me," she snaps, setting her jaw. "Make up your stupid mind who you'd rather spend all of this extremely limited free time of yours with."

James boggles at her.

Zenevieva raises her eyebrows. "Go on, Jim. Pick. Me? Or Sirius?"

".... no."

"... what do you mean, no?"

"That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!" James snaps, looking angry for the first time since their argument began.

"Really? I don't think it's ridiculous at all!" She puts her hands back on her hips and glares at him. "This shouldn't be a hard choice for anyone."

James just stares at her.

"I mean, for God's sake, you two are practically attached at the hip — it's absurd," accuses Zenevieva, rolling her eyes. "So pick; me, your girlfriend, or Sirius, the shadow you apparently cannot escape."

"Zenevieva," James warns. "Please."

"Why are you even having trouble with this?" she cries impatiently. "All you've got to say is that yes, you'll promise to spend a little more with me and a little less with him."

"No."

"And then we can..." Zenevieva trails off, gaping at him. "... what?"

"No," James repeats, looking quite furious.

Zenevieva looks genuinely shocked. "You won't pick me?"

"No."

"... well why the fuck not?!" she practically shrieks. "You're sleeping with me! How can you not pick me?"

"I shouldn't have to pick!" James shouts back.

"Yeah, well, you do!"

James stares at her. "Sirius."

Zenevieva makes an incredulous noise, gaping again. "... But— fucking hell— why!?"

"Because," James says, very coldly, "he would never ask me to make a choice."

"Please." Zenevieva scoffs. "You can't know that."

"Oh, yes I can."

Zenevieva makes a face that's very nearly a sneer. "Everybody will make you pick eventually."

"Want to bet?" James flops back into the armchair, looking very tense indeed.

Shrieking wordlessly, she stomps her foot again. "God, Jim, you're really an idiot, aren't you?"

"I am?"

"You're choosing Sirius over me," she says angrily. "Sirius Black, of all fucking people. I mean, he may be nice enough, yeah, but for crying out loud, he's not even loyal to his damn family; and him, you think would never make you choose."

James's jaw drops. "I think you'd better leave now," he manages.

Zenevieva glares. "Yes," she says after a moment, "I think I should. Don't expect I'll be back."

"Don't think you should, no."

"Fine." She turns on her heel and storms out into the hall to grab her coat. "Goodbye," she shouts over her shoulder, and slams the front door behind her.

Residence of Sirius Black and James Potter
13 December 1978
4.07 pm

"Honey," mutters Sirius, swinging the front door open, "I'm home."

A loud sort of grunt comes from the armchair, the back of which is facing the door.

In the process of dropping several shopping bags next to the door, Sirius pauses. "... James?"

"Mm."

Sirius closes the door and shrugs out of his coat before rounding the chair. James isn't as much sitting as he is lying down, seated at the very edge of the seat and looking extremely unhappy.

"What's the matter with you?" asks Sirius, with a frown, unwinding his scarlet and gold scarf.

"Bad day."

Sirius grunts, dropping onto the sofa. "What'd you do, fall off a broom?"

"I think Zen and I broke up," James mutters.

Sirius blinks. Then he frowns. "The hell does that mean? You 'think'?"

"What the hell d'you think it means?" James snaps.

"How can you not know?" Sirius mutters. He tosses his scarf over the back of the sofa and stretches his legs out in front of him. "What happened?"

James groans. "Do we have to discuss it?"

Sirius grimaces. "Fine, then. Sorry."

After a few moments of silence, James mutters, "Big row."

"... over Christmas?"

"Apparently."

"Who the hell fights during Christmas?"

"Si," James sighs. "Please."

"... Sorry," mutters Sirius, grimacing again. "Shutting up now."

"It's fine," James replies, sitting up slightly straighter. "It's just... depressing."

Sirius snorts softly. "Tell me about it."

"I thought she'd... never mind."

"No." Sirius slouchs further down into the sofa. "You thought she'd... what?"

"Y'know." James looks very uncomfortable.

"No. I don't know," says Sirius, shaking his head.

"Never mind."

"I fucking hate when you say that, you know," Sirius announces, as if he's speaking to the furniture as much as James.

"I'm sorry," James sighs. "I thought it might end up working out, y'know. With her."

"Oh." Sirius leans his head back, staring at the ceiling. He clears his throat. "... like, 'the one', and... all that shit?"

"I don't know."

"Well," says Sirius after a moment, a rather pained, pinched look on his face, "you can make up with her, yeah? No biggie. People fight all the time."

James makes a face. Sirius, still staring at the ceiling, doesn't see it. "I mean, it's not like you fought about, y'know, joining the Death Eaters, or something, right?"

"It's not going to happen."

"Well of course not." Sirius snorts. "I know you wouldn't join the Death Eaters, it was just an example."

"'S not what I meant," James sighs. "She's history."

"Ah." Sirius lifts his head up slightly to glance at James. "Sure about that, are you?"

"Quite."

"How d'you know?"

"Believe me, I do," James says, covering his face with his hands. "How was shopping?"

After one more, frowning look, Sirius drops his head back down. "I found awesome trousers."

"For Christmas?"

"Mm, for wearing out."

"Oh." James pauses, sitting up straighter again. "Shopping for your favourite person again."

"Yep." Sirius grins at the ceiling. "I bought you a jumper."

The corner of James's mouth twitches.

"It's for you to wear over to Not-Mum's, on boxing day."

"Thank you."

"You'll have to tell her you've broken up with Zenevieva."

James makes a face. "Can't you do it for me?"

Sirius rolls his eyes. "Yeah, she'll like that, when I can't tell her why."

"Please?"

"....... oh, fine."

James gives him a very thankful smile.

"Provided," Sirius says quickly, "you make me pancakes for dinner."

"Deal."

Sirius grins slightly. "Great."

Sighing heavily, James gets up. "Just please don't tell me you found a wonderful girl in the jumper aisle or something, all right?"

"All right, then, I won't."

James freezes.

Settling further into the couch, Sirius yawns. "But Lily says hi."

"... you're not dating her, are you?"

"Please, Prongs. I don't date people I like," scoffs Sirius, closing his eyes. "Pancakes, deer."

"Pancakes," James echoes, heading toward the kitchen. "As you wish."

Dear Sirius (52/52)

Tue, 23 Jun 2009 21:19:39 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius (part 52/52)
Author: duva & fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: Humor/Romance
Chapter Word Count: ~9270
Status: Complete
Chapter Rating: R/M, for innuendo, language, and objectionable content, like Sirius being gratuitously Sirius.
Spoilers: Uh, not really. It's so ridiculously AU that it kinda becomes almost completely unspoilerific.
Pairing: James/Sirius
Warnings: AU. Language, innuendo.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Summary: Thrice weekly in the Evening Prophet's entertainment section, Sirius Black answers all your questions, from the mundane to the complicated to the just plain weird.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine A, Chapter Nine B, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine, Chapter Thirty, Chapter Thirty-One, Chapter Thirty-Two, Chapter Thirty-Three, Chapter Thirty-Four, Chapter Thirty-Five, Chapter Thirty-Six, Chapter Thirty-Seven, Chapter Thirty-Eight, Chapter Thirty-Nine, Chapter Forty, Chapter Forty-One, Chapter Forty-Two, Chapter Forty-Three, Chapter Forty-Four, Chapter Forty-Five, Chapter Forty-Six, Chapter Forty-Seven, Chapter Forty-Eight, Chapter Forty-Nine, Chapter Fifty, Chapter Fifty-One
Notes: Most of the important backstory for this — where it differs from canon, anyway — can be found in the newspaper collage at the beginning of the first chapter, and if you're still confused about something, please ask. If you missed any chapters, just follow the above links to get caught up. Remember to comment if you enjoyed this!

duva and fictionalcandie would like to thank all of you who have been reading this, as well as everyone who has ever left us a comment. The feedback and encouragement has just been wonderful, and we're rather sad to see the end of this story. ... which is probably why, even though this is, definitely, the final chapter of Dear Sirius... proper, it's not the last you'll see from the DS universe.

The Evening Prophet Offices
London, England
10 September 1984
10.37 am

"Good news," Thora exclaims as she drops a bunch of papers onto Sirius's desk.

Sirius looks up from his very intent contemplation of his mocha. "Whose definition, mine, yours or Tony's?"

"Our readers'." Thora looks very pleased with herself indeed.

Like flipping a switch, Sirius un-slouches in his chair. "Don't tell me. I get my questions back."

Thora grins at him.

Sirius lets out a whoop. A very loud one. Adelaide's head appears around the partition separating Sirius's desk from the many others in the room. "Told him, then, have you," she surmises, with a huge grin.

"You are very predictable," Thora tells Sirius. "And I owe Addie a Galleon."

"Two," corrects Adelaide, giving her a pointed look. "Hubert had spinach for lunch, remember?"

Sirius ignores this exchange. "I've got them back? All ten?"

"Quite."

Sirius whoops loudly again, throwing his arms in the air and doing a rather flail-y chair dance.

"And that was without a single drop of the day's second mocha," mutters Adelaide almost proudly. Her arm appears around the partition as well, plopping another cup down next to the pile of papers dropped by Thora.

"As long as you think you'll be able to handle it, of course," Thora adds.

"Are you kidding? I have been waiting for this," says Sirius delightedly, still flailing a bit. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"You're so adorable," declares Adelaide, right before she disappears the way she came.

The corner of Thora's mouth twitches. "Just... try to keep it family friendly, yes?"

"I'll do my best," Sirius replies. His grin is very wide and quite brilliant. "But really, I think everyone knows what to expect from me at this point, don't you?"

"And yet I'm the one who gets sent complaints."

"Of course you are. I just get the dirty questions begging me to talk about gay porn and my sex life and whether they're ever combined."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're on about," Thora smirks.

"Oh, please." Sirius rolls his eyes. "You were the one who wanted footage."

Thora mimics a halo over her head.

He laughs. "Yeah, yeah. It's being held up by horns, though, Thora my dear."

"Oh, shut it, boy."

In response, Sirius blows her a kiss, before turning to beam at his mocha and question-loaded desk.

Monday, 10 September 1984

Dear Sirius,
Is there anything about you that you're really scared the world will find out? Any scandal fear, as it were.
/Rosie

Dear Rosie,
Now, how am I supposed to answer that question without nullifying the whole "scared the world will find out" thing? All I'm gonna say is that there are some things from my Hogwarts days that I'm not proud of, that I'm extremely glad most of the Death Eaters I fought during the War aren't in a position to talk about it anymore, and that the Aurors (and everyone else) had better hope nothing nasty and painful ever happens to James. And no, I won't be elaborating on any of those, so don't any of you go asking.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
My wife and I just had our fifth baby and we're having trouble finding time for us as a couple. I realise you don't have any children or even a wife, but maybe you know some useful hints nevertheless?
/Seb

Dear Seb,
Grandparents, aunts and uncles, and babysitters.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Why is it that when grownups say "maybe" they always really mean "no"? Why don't they just say no right away?
/Kelsie

Dear Kelsie,
Oh, that's simple; they haven't quite convinced themselves yet that they want to disappoint you. If you're really adorable and quiet about accepting their maybe, sometimes it really does turn into a yes!
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Ever since I was tiny I've wanted to be a Healer, and I finally finished my education six months ago. Now, however.... my work is eating my life! I feel as though it's all I ever have time for. Don't get me wrong, I love it, but I also love things like sleep and being with my friends! What should I do?
/Allie

Dear Allie,
Go on strike and demand fewer hours?
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I've been going out with my boyfriend for about a year and a half and I'm very happy with how things are, except for one aspec. I know for a fact that he is more deeply invested in me than I am in him. I don't see this relationship lasting forever and he's already talking marriage. It's making me feel rather guilty. What should I do?
/Cold Heart

Dear Cold,
Tell him that, and let him decide if he still wants to spend a few years — or months, or weeks, or whatever — with you, even if you're not going to be a forever deal. And then live with his decision.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I am single since a year and I'm sick of it, but I never meet any guys that grab my fancy! Do you have any tip on where to meet potential boyfriends?
/Cecily

Dear Cecily,
Try the grocery store — only make sure they're single before you start hitting on them. That gets awkward.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Just before I came back to Hogwarts, my 18-year old sister got into a huge row with my parents and left home. None of us have heard from her since, although we've been told she's staying with a friend and is safe. I feel really upset about this — we were really close and now she's just abandoned me! What should I do?
/Alix

Dear Alix,
Follow her.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I've been at my current job for about two years, and yesterday I found out I'll be getting a promotion. On one hand I am really pleased, as it's exactly the direction I was hoping to go in, but something is really bugging me. A co-worker of mine is more qualified, has worked here longer, and wanted this promotion more than I did.... yet I was picked and she wasn't. I feel almost disloyal to her, accepting it. What should I do?
/Derek

Dear Derek,
I would talk to her, and then your bosses. While making it clear that you appreciate the promotion, ask them why she didn't get it — perhaps there's something you don't know about which disqualifies her from the position (hopefully other than her gender). If there isn't, and you still feel uncomfortable about it... maybe you should consider recommending that they give it to her. Now obviously this is an unlikely outcome, as it takes a special level of unselfish fairness to do that, but at the very least it might shine a good light on you, in your bosses' eyes.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I have a problem with my mother. I am 26 and have been out of my own for a while, but every time my mum comes over she starts bossing me around! "Clean this", "cook this", "don't slouch", "are you sure those robes are a good choice".... Why is she doing this? What can I do to make her stop?
/Big Baby

Dear Babs,
Just in case you thought it was, I want to assure you that this behaviour is not a reflection on you — it is a reflection of your mother's inability to let her baby go. Other than simply telling her to stop, and not listening to her if she continues, it doesn't seem that you have much of a choice but to endure it and comfort yourself with the knowledge that your mother still gives a damn about your life and what you do with it.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I am in a really great relationship with a wonderful guy but there is a problem: he doesn't want anyone to know we're going out. We've been dating for nearly six months and no one, not even my best friend, knows about it. It's driving me batty having to lie to everyone! Why do you think he insists on keeping it mum? Is he ashamed of me? What should I do?
/Anastasia

Dear Stasie,
Tell him you're proud of him and want to show him off, and ask him why you can't.
Sirius

Portree, Isle of Skye, Scotland
11 September 1984
1.06 pm

"How many more d'you reckon he'll have to do?" Cliodhna asks, looking at her watch.

"Quite a lot, probably. Coach is furious," Christine replies, examining the nails on her left hand. "Did you see how the poor bastard was flying?"

"I dunno what he expects though, first practice for two months..."

"Yeah, but James never flies like that." Christine's gaze switches to the nails on her other hand. "Merlin, he looked tired."

"Hm." Cliodhna narrows her eyes, focusing on the pitch.

"Exhausted, really," Christine goes on, beginning to flex her fingers, on at a time, staring as if it's the most fascinating thing ever. "Rather as if he didn't sleep all night..."

"Are you sure you want to go there, Chris?"

Christine drops her hand. "Well, why the fuck wouldn't I want to?"

"... where are we going?"

Cliodhna yelps. Christine jumps, glancing over her shoulder at the man standing between and just behind them, grinning.

"Hello, lovely quidwitches."

"Sirius," Cliodhna complains. "Don't do that."

Sirius's grin twitches a little wider. "What, eavesdrop, or sneak up on you?"

"Yes."

"Both, Cliodhna agrees. "Blimey."

"But you were talking about James. I just know you were."

"Just because he's your boyfriend doesn't give you the right to listen to anything everyone says about him ever," mutters Christine, without any heat.

Sirius looks vaguely curious. "It doesn't?"

"No," says Cliodhna, then pats the seat next to her. "And if you're here to have lunch with him, I'm afraid you'll have to wait."

At this, Sirius's expression droops a little. He moves around to take the offered seat. "Is he hiding from me?"

"... should he be?"

"He never has before," replies Sirius, sounding amused by Cliodhna's almost wary tone.

"Well," says Christine, raising her voice a bit, "he's never almost fallen asleep on his broom before, either, has he."

"... what?"

"Or nearly fallen off his broom," adds Cliodhna.

"Or," adds Christine, with a very pointed look, "nearly ridden his broom into a goal post, completely by accident."

Cliodhna turns to look at Sirius. "Has he been practicing at all this summer?"

"What a stupid question," Sirius says, waving a dismissive hand. "Like anyone or -thing could keep that man away from a broom that long."

Cliodhna keeps her eyes fixed on him.

"He was flying practically like a Hogwarts student," stresses Christine, crossing her arms.

"... hey, hey, hey, you should have seen him fly as a Hogwarts student!" Sirius protests.

"Was he this bad?" Cliodhna asks, nodding towards the pitch.

Sirius looks out toward the pitch, where James (under the watchful and irate eye of his coach) seems to be flying loops around the goal posts... with rather less than his usual smoothness.

"Oh holy mother of Merlin's babies," Sirius mutters.

"Was he?" repeats Christine.

Sirius is staring out at James. "I don't think he was that bad when he first got on a broom."

"Uh-huh."

Christine shares a look with Cliodhna. "Uh-huh."

"I think maybe I broke him a bit," Sirius remarks, eyes still on James.

"... you broke him a bit," Cliodhna echoes. "Do we want to know?"

"Er... I don't know." Sirius finally looks back at the girls. "Do you?"

Christine looks thoughtful. "Is there any nakedness?"

"Copious amounts," replies Sirius calmly. "Gratuitously copious amounts."

"Then no," Cliodhna grimaces.

"... I was gonna say maybe," mutters Christine.

"Chris!"

Sirius snickers. "I don't think she meant for that to actually make it past her lips."

"Anyway," Cliodhna says, turning her gaze back to the pitch. "He's busy."

"I see that."

Christine blinks. Then she leans in to Cliodhna and loudly whispers, "Clee, look. He actually pouts. Like a five-year old."

"A very big one," Cliodhna whispers back.

"A very fit very big one."

"Very."

"Very."

Cliodhna shifts slightly to look at Sirius, who is still right between them. "Hi."

"Not 'very' hi?" asks Sirius, smirking a bit.

Cliodhna grins.

"Word of the day," says Christine.

"James is very bad today," Cliodhna says. "See, I used it in a sentence."

"And I was trying to be very good, being very not suspicious," adds Christine. "See, I used it twice in a sentence."

"Yeah?" Sirius snickers a bit. "Well, my word of the day is 'fuck' — shall I use that in a sentence?"

Cliodhna just stares at him while Christine blinks.

Sirius smirks. "Oh, fuck, I came to see my very fit boyfriend and now I'm disappointed that I don't get to fu—"

Cliodhna clears her throat very loudly.

"I think words of the day are supposed to be G-rated, Black."

"Thank you, Christine."

"You're quite amusing, really," Cliodhna says suddenly. "Rude, but amusing."

"Thank you!" says Sirius, looking delighted. "I'm not always rude."

"Just most of the time?"

Sirius looks mournful for a moment. "The combination of James and perverted thoughts tends to have a rather unfortunate effect."

"Resulting in terrible flying?"

"Er..." Sirius clears his throat.

"... I want my wedding dress to do this," Christine announces.

"Shh!"

Sirius stares at Christine, who is turning a bit red. "Someday, someone will explain that to me."

"Sure," Cliodhna says, sounding very insincere. "But I think your boyfriend is heading this way now."

Completely distracted, Sirius fairly leaps from his seat.

"James! Love!"

Cliodhna shakes her head as the boys disappear out onto the pitch and out of sight. "He's really not all that bad, you know."

"No," agrees Christine. "I just hate him because I'm jealous."

Cliodhna pats her arm.

Christine makes a pitiful little noise. "Stupid gorgeous funny awesome people with fit Quidditch boyfriends," she mutters.

"Very," Cliodhna says.

"He could at least be nice to me and not... be nice."

"Very. ....wait, what?"

"When he's nice I can't pretend he's not nice."

"It's hard to be you," Cliodhna agrees. "Are we going to have lunch or what?"

"You can eat after that... sickeningly not sickening display?" asks Christine, gesturing in the direction James and Sirius have disappeared.

"Yup."

"... oh, good, so can I."

"Chinese?" asks Cliodhna.

"Awesome."

"Very."

Wednesday, 12 September 1984

Dear Sirius,
Would you ever go 24 hours without using magic, as a bet? What if it was for charity?
/Paulie

Dear Paulie,
Well, yeah, I suppose I might, proved I wasn't ever, you know, attacked or anything like that. And that I had James or Not-Mum around to feed me. And Mathilda Ermyntrude didn't run out of petrol.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you think a romantic relationship between a witch or wizard and a muggle can ever really last? I mean, love is blind and all that, but are our two worlds just too different to be compatible?
/Crushing on an engineer

Dear Crushing,
If our worlds were too different to be compatible, then Muggleborns wouldn't be able to live within Wizarding society and still manage to retain huge portions of their lives before they discovered magic — and many do. Like my friend Lils, who does things like fellytone people.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I think there's something wrong with me. I'm 22 years old and I have NO interest in finding a girlfriend (or boyfriend for that matter). Surely this can't be normal? Do you think I'm seriously ill?
/Concerned

Dear Concerned,
I suppose it's possible, if unlikely, that you're seriously ill and it is effecting your, er, desire for a significant other... It's more likely that you've just never met anyone you really want, or else you're simply one of those people who want to be alone. It happens; I don't understand it, but it happens.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I don't want to grow up ever. Is there some kind of potion that will keep you as a child forever? Grown ups never seem to have any fun and all they do is talk about paying bills.
/Ellen

Dear Ellen,
Clearly, you've just never been around the right type of grown-ups! You should come hang out with me for awhile — I know how to have fun. Besides, I've never heard of a potion to keep you a kid forever. If I had, I might have used it.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you think it's possible to be in love with someone without feeling sexual attraction towards that person?
/Matthew

Dear Matthew,
Well, I never have, personally... but that's not exactly saying much, as I have only ever been in love once, and the sexual attraction part happened either simultaneously, or shortly beforehand (it's difficult to judge accurately, as not many people would ever consider a twelve-year old capable of "being in love" properly). I suppose in theory it's perfectly possibly, except that I'd normally think being in love with a person meant loving everything about them, including their appearance, and if you love how they look, why wouldn't you want to shag them?
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you have any hidden skills?
/Antonia

Dear Toni,
Unlike James, who could probably use his stupidly (but very yummily) buff arms to do crazy awesome unusual things like walk up a flight of stairs on his hands, I'm afraid I really don't. All of my talents are distressingly out in the open. Well, except that one I'm not allowed to share because then my boyfriend would be embarrassed and I wouldn't ever get happy time ever again.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
How do you learnt to trust someone after being horribly hurt by someone else? My ex husband left me in a not very nice way and now I'm just too jaded to let anyone close to me. What should I do? I can't live like this!
/Burnt

Dear Burnt,
First of all, I hope you hurt this ex husband of yours something fierce, because it sounds like he deserves it, whatever he did. As for letting people back in... the only thing I can tell you is that you need to keep reminding yourself that the fear of losing something, even in a painful way, shouldn't be enough to keep you from trying to have it to begin with. Maybe if you say it often enough and loudly enough, you'll believe it. If that doesn't work, I recommend finding a therapist to help convince you.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Have you ever tried gardening the Muggle way? What did you think of it? Would you ever take it up as a hobby?
/Isaac

Dear Isaac,
... what, like, with a shovel?!
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I have NO idea what I want to do with my life. And I'm not a teenager or in my 20's either, I am 38 years old!! This is really ruining my life. How can I get an idea of what to pursue in order to give my life some actual substance?
/Loser

Dear Ancient,
Who ever said that life needed substance, I'd like to know. It takes the fun right out of everything. Which, having been said, should tell you that I'm not really the person to go to for answers. Not, at least, if you expect an explanation other than "Well, what do you enjoy? Do that."
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you have a favourite historical witch or wizard? If so, who? Why?
/Merlina

Dear Merlina,
I know it's cliched, but Godric Gryffindor. His name used to get thrown at me like an insult a lot, so I've learned to love it.
Sirius

Imogen Potter's Residence
Minehead, Somerset
12 September 1984
2.32 pm

"There," announces Imogen in a stern, decided tone, loudly depositing on the table the plate she's holding. On it is a perfectly enormous sandwich. Next to it she places a large bowl of carrot sticks. "Eat."

"Mum," James protests. "I have a gym session in half an hour."

"You look like a swizzle stick," his mother argues. "Have you been letting Sirius eat all the food at supper again?"

"No!"

Imogen narrows her eyes at him. "Then why are you so skinny?"

"I've been slacking off weight lifting over the summer?" James suggests.

Imogen pokes his shoulder. "I can count your ribs. Through your shirt."

James rolls his eyes. "Now you're just being melodramatic."

"Hmph." Imogen pokes him again. "You're skinny and you'll shrivel up and die and Sirius will fall apart and die too and then I won't have any sons, as well as grandbabies."

".... excuse me?"

"You will not rob me of all my immature young relatives!"

"Mum, have you considered taking up a hobby?" James asks, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Bridge, perhaps?"

"I did." Imogen turns away, sniffing slightly. "Greta thinks I cheat."

"I think Greta cheats."

"Poorly," mutters Imogen. She moves to fuss with something on the counter. "She never wins at all."

"I know," James manages around a mouthful of food. "This is delicious."

"Thank you." Imogen doesn't look particularly mollified. "Food is supposed to be. Hasn't Sirius taught you anything?"

"I'm the one who does all the cooking!"

"Yes, and he does all the eating."

"Not all of it," James argues.

Imogen turns around again, her eyebrows lifted pointedly.

"I do eat!"

"You haven't been this... this small since — well — last summer!"

"I skivved off my weight lifting then, too!" James argues. "I've already had this lecture from my coach!"

"Well, I suppose his cake burned today as well, then, did it!"

"... what cake?"

"I was baking," replies Imogen, with a slightly wild look to her eyes. "A chocolate cake. I never burn them."

"Oh." James reaches over and grabs her hand. "You don't need to make me cakes, mummy."

Imogen wilts a bit, fortunately into a chair. "Sirius only comes to see me when I promise him cake. And bikkies. And strudel."

"He's not even here," James argues.

"Because I burnt the cake!"

"Because he's at work!"

"... Oh. Right. Yes." Imogen sniffs. "Well."

"He got his ten questions a day back and everything."

"I saw," she says. "I was rereading Monday's. Right before I spilt my glass of sherry."

James winces.

Imogen looks a bit forlorn for a moment. "And now you're going to waste away into nothing and Sirius will turn his brain off and Lily will stop having a reason to visit. There will be no babies of any kind in my house and I burnt the cake!"

"Lily and Remus are getting married!" James offers, very suddenly.

Imogen blinks. Several times.

"I beg your pardon?"

"They got engaged."

"... when?"

"Couple of days ago," James says, waving a hand. "Over the weekend."

Imogen blinks again, only once this time.

"Right," she says, reaching over and snatching the plate from in front of James. "Out."

"Wha?"

Imogen points toward the door. "Out! I need to call that girl and give her a piece of my mind."

James blinks. Why?"

"She's been engaged for a couple of days and she didn't tell me!" exclaims Imogen rather shrilly. "When did she tell you?"

"Er."

"... I knew it!" Imogen points more insistently. "Out!"

James scrambles out of his chair.

"Shoo!" she says, hurrying over to open her back door, still pointing.

"Thanks for lunch?"

"I'm putting the rest of it in the fridge for you." Imogen finally lowers her arm, though she's obviously still shooing her son away. "And bring Sirius by after dinner. I'm going to make another cake, which I will absolutely not burn, and there will be no sherry. It will be lovely. He can tell me if he helped Remus pick out the ring."

"I can tell you that no—"

She closes the door behind him.

" — right."

The door opens again. Imogen leans out — and up — far enough to buss his cheek. "Bye, dear."

"Bye, mummy."

The door closes again.

Residence of Sirius Black and James Potter
13 September 1984
4.55 pm

"This is so boring," mutters Sirius, making a disdainful face and throwing a piece of popcorn at the television, where a man in a very white coat is talking about fabric dyes.

"What was that?" James shouts from the kitchen.

"A fat ugly man with stupid hair and no fashion sense is telling me to buy anti-bleach," Sirius hollers back.

"Anti what now?"

"Stuff to colour fabric."

"You know, you could give me a hand in here —"

Sirius makes his expressively uninterested face again, and throws some popcorn in the direction of the kitchen, as well.

There is a series of very rapid knocks on the door.

"I'll get it!" he exclaims, sounding almost relieved.

The knocking continues. Bowl of popcorn still in one hand, Sirius flings the door open.

"I need you," Ivy says, sounding rather desperate.

Sirius pauses a moment before speaking. "... for...?"

"Shopping," Ivy says, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the house. "James, I'm stealing your man for a couple of hours!"

"For shopping," Sirius shouts over his shoulder. "Only shopping!"

"We're eating at six!" James calls back.

Sirius glances at Ivy. "I can't miss food, you know."

"Must be nice of you to have a housewife," Ivy remarks, kicking the door shut.

"Yes, it's lovely — am I bringing my popcorn shopping?"

"Leave the popcorn," Ivy says. "Isn't there some bush you could dump them in?"

"Dump perfectly good popcorn!?"

Ivy opens the door again.

"Thank you," says Sirius, leaning inside to set the bowl on the low table near the front door. He pauses, half in the house. "... may I bring my shoes?"

Ivy glances at his slipper-clad feet. "When did you turn 80?"

"They're comfy," he defends, kicking his slippers into the house and dragging out his motorcycle boots. "And they look like someone shaved me—I mean my dog."

"Uh-huh," Ivy says, not really paying attention. "Would you hurry up? This is an emergency."

"Right, right." Sirius stomps his feet into his boots and slams the front door. "There, all ready. Er... what kind of shopping are we doing, emergency-like?"

"Groceries."

Sirius, on his way down the walk, stops. "... when was the last time you ate?"

"Ten minutes ago," Ivy replies, waving an impatient hand. "That is not the point. I need to get laid."

"Okay, I think I'm confused." Sirius crosses his arms. "I approve of food sex, but what does this have to do with emergencies and why do I need to be involved and WHAT is going ON?"

"Alec said he'd cook me dinner," Ivy says, half-running down the lane. "At my house."

Sirius hurries after her. "What, tonight?"

"Tomorrow."

"... so what's the emergency?"

"I have no food that says shag me." Ivy pauses dramatically. "And he's so timid."

"Which is where self-throwing comes in handy," Sirius says, mostly to himself. "Okay, I suppose I see the need for shopping — but for me?"

"You're getting laid, aren't you?"

"By the man who does the cooking, yes," replies Sirius. "But that's probably because I think pretty much all food says 'shag me', and if it doesn't I say it."

"That's beside the point," Ivy says, speeding up even further. "D'you know how long it's been since I've had any?!"

"... I don't think I need to know," he says under his breath.

"Three months!"

Sirius stops walking. "That's a joke, right?"

"I wish it were."

"I wish it were, too." He hurries to catch her up and throws a commiserating arm around her shoulders. "You poor, poor thing. Let's go get you some shagging food, right now."

"That's what I'm saying," Ivy half-shouts. "Can't we just Apparate there?"

"Muggles," says Sirius, as a tiny old man in a bowler passes them.

Ivy whines loudly.

Sirius pats her head. "Almost there."

"Let's buy loads of asparagus."

"Asparagus is not sexy."

"No?" Ivy asks, rounding a corner and almost-sprinting to the store, which is now in sight.

"No. We'll buy some melons and things."

"Why melons?"

"... so he'll want yours?" Sirius grabs a basket and follows Ivy into the store. "Maybe cucumbers."

"I don't have any cucumbers!"

"Buy some, then! Everyone needs phallic symbols."

Ivy glares slightly at him.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry." Sirius clears his throat. "What were you thinking, then?"

"I don't know!" Ivy exclaims. "That's why I need YOU!"

Sirius considers this. "Right. We need vegetables. Cheerful ones."

"Right."

"Because sexy vegetables," he explains, while leading the way to the produce section, "are too over-used."

"Okay," Ivy nods, sounding like she's actually taking him seriously.

"So no tomatoes." Sirius bypasses those. "Broccoli, perhaps."

"What is sexy about broccoli?"

"Nothing. That's the point." Sirius puts some broccoli in their basket.

"... okay..."

"He can, like, boil it slightly, or whatever." Sirius raises an eyebrow at Ivy. "What kind of cooking does Alec do, anyway?"

"I have no idea." Ivy pauses. "What do accountants eat?"

"... toast?"

"Money toast?"

"Toasty money?"

"Hm."

Sirius looks pensive. "We'd better go with people food."

"I agree." Ivy nods solemnly.

"Potatoes it is, then."

"That's not sexy at all!"

"You can ask him to make chips. Chips are very sexy. I always want to shag James when I see him eating chips."

Ivy gives him a look. "You want to shag him all the time."

"... not all the time," mutters Sirius, with a tiny glare.

"Uh-huh."

"Which reminds me..." Still muttering to himself, Sirius moves away from the produce.

".... reminds you of what?" Ivy asks, scurrying after him.

"Something I need to pick up while we're here."

Ivy follows, looking rather wary.

Looking very familiar with the aisle he's led her down, Sirius goes directly to what he's looking for and grabs it. A second later, they're heading back toward the produce. "Now, that's done. What else do you need?"

"What did you get?"

"Lube. We're almost out."

"What, your weekly bottle is nearly dry?" Ivy asks, winking.

"Yes," answers Sirius, with a completely serious expression.

"I'm very happy for you," Ivy deadpans. "Now let's get me some shag me food."

"Yes." Sirius nods. "Back to our mission."

Friday, 14 September 1984

Dear Sirius,
Sometimes my parents lock the door to their bedroom and don't let me or my brother in. Why do you think this is?
/Amanda aged 9

Dear Amanda,
Well, sometimes parents — and other grown up people — need to be alone with each other to do special, complicated grown up things. But these things really are ONLY for grown ups... which is why they lock the door.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
If you could only pick one aspect as the most important one when it comes to relationships, what would it be and why?
/Lemonia

Dear Lemony,
Well, I really think honesty is incredibly important, no matter which arena it's applied to — physical, emotional or anything else. If you can't be honest with a person, you have very little chance of having a successful, fulfilling relationship with them. So, though that's probably not the sort of answer you were going for, that's what I'm giving.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I am really terrified of getting dragon pox. Do you know what steps I can take to minimise the risk of catching it?
/Jenny

Dear Jenny,
Don't visit any hospitals and stay away from people who have it.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I understand that you're part of a group that really enjoys sleeping in bunk beds, as it were. My question is this: which bunk do you prefer, top or bottom?
/Ty

Dear Ty the Clever,
While it's true that I usually prefer the bottom bunk, I also occasionally enjoy the top — the view is so interesting, you know.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I think my boss might actually be insane. He's always been somewhat excentric, but lately it's been out of control. He's showed up to work wearing a sailor's outfit, he's started calling all of his employees "Stanley" (men and women) and last week I walked in on him having a conversation with a rutabaga he keeps in his desk drawer! Do you think we should be worried? What should I do?
/Stanley #14

Dear StanFourteen,
Well, that's certainly... special. I'd say you should contact his family... and a loony bin. And maybe invest heavily in sedatives, just in case he goes even further off the deep end.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I have an enormous crush on a friend of mine, only he happens to be married. I think I would have a shot if I let him know how I feel, but I'm undecided on whether I should or not. What do you think I should do? Would you have made a move on James, had he been married to someone else?
/Carla

Dear Carla,
Answering your second question first, no, I would not have, since I never would have let him marry someone he'd never be happy with, and there's no way I'd do anything to make him unhappy, such as breaking up a happy marriage. But back to your situation. Your thinking you might have a shot with your friend suggests that his marriage isn't the best one around, and stands a fair chance of breaking up without your involvement — so I think you ought to wait and see if that happens. When and if it does, well, make your move.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
How do you know if you're a compulsive liar? Lately I've found myself fibbing when asked such inane questions as what I had for lunch. Should I be worried about myself?
/Irene

Dear Irene,
I don't know if that's necessary a sign that you're a compulsive liar, as much as it just might mean you don't want people knowing that you eat sauerkraut and avocado sandwiches. I'd reckon it's when you start lying about EVERYTHING — big, small, medium, dust bunny-sized — that you need to worry.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Between age 15 and 21 I dated this wonderful woman, who then broke up with me one week before I was planning on proposing to her. Needless to say I was devastated, but what's worse is that I still don't think I'm over her. I've dated several women since, but I just find myself comparing them all to her and no one quite measures up. Why do you think this is? Is there anything I can do about it before it ruins all of my future relationships?
/Jason

Dear Jason,
Make yourself a list of what you want to remember about this woman — and make sure the only things on it are negative. Read it at least once a day. Or, just start dating men.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I'm currently five months pregnant and my boyfriend is so excited to be a dad. The only problem is... it's not his baby. I thought he'd figure this out by himself, since we've only been dating for four and a half months, but I guess maths isn't his strongest side. Should I tell him? How?
/Brazen

Dear Hussy,
Honey, have you stopped to consider that maybe he already knows that, but he just doesn't care? After all, it doesn't sound like the baby's biological father is going to be part of the equation... so it still adds up to "his baby" if you look at it a certain way. Just ask your boyfriend. Nicely.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
When you were 15, what did you think your life would be like at 25? What turned out the same, what turned out different, what was the biggest surprise? And if you had the chance to do it all over again... would you, or would you change the outcome?
/Nostradamus

Dear Prophet,
I think the biggest surprise has been that I'm actually in a relationship with James — at 15, I certainly didn't think that would ever happen. Other than that, being estranged from the rest of the Black family, and being down one brother, I think my life has pretty much turned out the way I hoped it would, or maybe even a little better, in a few areas (like my work) where I didn't have any idea what I wanted. I think, when it comes down to it... yeah, I'd do it all over again. I like my life, now.
Sirius

Residence of Lily Evans and Remus Lupin
14 September 1984
7.49 pm

Remus frowns thoughtfully, then reaches out and moves a playing piece to a new square. "There," he says. "Your turn."

"Hmmm." Lily narrows her eyes at the board.

Remus picks up one of the discarded, taken pieces from the side and fiddles with it.

"Stop it."

"What?"

"You're distracting me." Lily finally makes her move. "There."

"... you just took eight of my pieces!"

Lily looks very smug.

Remus looks put out. "I thought you said I was being distracting?"

"Shut up or I'll flash you my boobs."

Remus raises an eyebrow, his displeased expression shifting into something almost Sirius-like in its lechery. "You don't expect that to actually make me shut up, do you?"

Lily's smile widens. "No, but it'll distract you."

"You're going to win, anyway, so why bother?"

"Why bother?"

"Why bother continuing the game, I meant," clarifies Remus, getting out of his chair to go and sit next to her on the sofa.

The bell rings.

Lily makes a face.

Remus groans. "God, I hope it's not Mother again."

"Do we have to get that?"

The bell rings again.

"Oi!" hollers a very recognisable voice. "Open up, you lazy bastards!"

Remus groans more loudly.

".... oh, great," Lily sighs. "One sec!"

Remus covers his face with his hands. "Are we really letting him in?"

"Do you think he'd leave if we didn't?" Lily asks, getting up.

"It's Sirius," mumbles Remus. "We could just shout that he's interrupting our shagging — he disapproves of that kind of thing."

Lily's already opened the door.

"Hello, my darling engaged woman," Sirius greets brightly, planting a loud kiss on her cheek. "I've come to steal your fiancé."

"I don't want to be stolen," Remus complains. "I was going to get laid."

"Remus," Lily chides. "What do you need him for?" she asks Sirius.

"I want to take him out for a drink or two or three or eight," he replies. He smirks. "Besides, he's engaged; engaged people don't get laid."

"You should try it some time, and see if you still believe that," grumbles Remus, getting up from the sofa. "Will I need my coat?"

"Am I wearing mine?"

Remus rolls his eyes. "You've got your leather coat on. You always wear your leather coat when you're driv— I am not riding on that beastly thing."

Lily laughs. "Bye, babe," she says, reaching up to give him a kiss. "Don't get him too drunk," she instructs Sirius. "I want him to be functional when he gets home."

"That is assuming he was ever functional to start with," snickers Sirius, throwing an arm around Remus's neck — eliciting a long-suffering groan but no actual resistance — and starting to pull him out of the house. "Thanks for letting me borrow him, Lils."

"Have I said you can borrow me?" Remus tries.

"You got off the sofa all on your own," Sirius points out. "I didn't have to drag you up or anything."

Remus scowls as the door closes behind them. "Where is James?"

"At home." Sirius steers him toward the motorbike waiting at the end of the drive.

"... is he sick?"

Sirius pauses. "... why?"

Remus gestures to the empty space next to Sirius.

Sirius huffs. "I do sometimes do things which do not involve him, you know. Even when we were at school."

"Uh-huh."

"... is it really that odd for me to be spending time with you, without him?"

"A little," Remus nods.

"I hate people," complains Sirius, clearly to himself. Then, directed at Remus, "We're having some pints and hanging out and I'm going to pretend that you don't think the world might be ending."

"All right..."

"Come on." Sirius removes his arm from Remus to punch him lightly in the shoulder. "Enthusiasm would be nice."

Remus gives him a slight grin.

"Good enough." Sirius climbs on his motorbike and tosses a helmet at Remus. "Put that on."

".... what?" Remus sounds rather terrified. "Where's yours?!"

"I don't wear one," replies Sirius dismissively. "Never have." He nods at the helmet in Remus's hands. "But knowing your obsession with safety, and with your skull remaining intact, I bought that. Now get on, mate."

Remus blinks. "On there?"

"No, I'm making you wear a helmet to walk along next to me and Mathilda." Sirius grins. "Yes, on here."

"But –"

"For Merlin's sake, Remus, I'm not going to rape you."

Remus flushes scarlet.

Sirius points at the seat behind him. "On, you pussy."

Still looking very unsure, Remus does.

"Arms," instructs Sirius, looking over his shoulder. "I go very fast."

Both of Remus's arms glue themselves around Sirius's middle.

"Good boy," snickers Sirius, stomping the motorbike to life, his words almost lost in the roar of the engine. Remus whimpers.

They take off up the road.

Residence of Sirius Black and James Potter
15 September 1984
9.16 am

"Open wider," James instructs. He is holding a piece of popcorn in his hand.

At the other end of the sofa, Sirius complies. "Ih uh be'ah?"

"Whassat?"

"Is this better?" Sirius repeats more distinctly, then returns to hold his mouth open as wide as possible.

"Depends on what the purpose is," James grins. He throws the popcorn.

The kernel sails beautifully straight into Sirius's mouth. He starts chewing, but doesn't swallow before he speaks. "Shut it," he orders grumpily. "I'm waiting for Alec. You can't get me all turned on."

".... only you would get turned on by this."

"By innuendo, James, not this."

"You sure?" James leans back, opening his mouth. Sirius lobs a bit of popcorn at him. It hits the rim of his glasses. "Improvement," James grins. "At least you hit my face this time."

Sirius growls. "Why are we even playing this stupid game?"

James's grin widens.

Sirius growls again. "Why am I rubbish at everything you want to do?" he complains, rather loudly.

"Not everything."

"Yes, well, we can't do that right now, can we?"

James glances at his watch. "Where is Alec, anyway?"

"I don't know." Sirius leans forward, trying to look at James's watch as well. "What time is it?"

"Eighteen past."

Sirius pulls a grumpy face. "Wasn't he supposed to be here, like, a half an hour ago?"

James raises an eyebrow at him. "Eighteen minutes ago."

"Same difference," mutters Sirius, waving a dismissive hand. "I'm taking time out of my busy schedule for him to tell me how rich we are, and he's not even here on time! It's very rude."

"Your busy schedule of shagging, eating, shagging, sleeping, shagging...."

Sirius is unable to avoid grinning. "Quite. All that shagging makes it very busy indeed."

James sits up straighter, leaning towards Sirius.

"I like being busy," Sirius adds scooting closer to James's end of the sofa.

"Uh-huh."

"You like it when I'm busy, too."

"Quite." James licks his lips. Sirius lifts his hand to the back of James's head and tugs gently, leaning in.

Their mouths just barely meet, when there is a rather tentative knock on the front door.

"... if that is Alec I will hex him," James growls, getting up and walking to the front door. He yanks it open rather violently.

Their accountant is standing on the step, wearing rumpled slacks and a polo shirt, looking rather dazed. "Er," says Alec, blinking a bit. "Hi."

James blinks back. "Hello. Run into a horde of rampant hippogriffs on the way?"

"Uh," says Alec eloquently. He blinks some more.

"Al?" Sirius questions, looking around James and staring. "You... aren't in a suit."

Alec looks down at himself. "Oh."

"... are you quite alright?" asks James.

"Um," is Alec's reply.

James glances over at Sirius. "He hasn't been hexed, has he?"

Sirius is still staring at Alec, and looking like he wants to grin a bit. "No," he says slowly, "I don't think he's been hexed... but I suspect Ivy might have broken him."

"Ah," agrees Alec, nodding.

"Oh." James blinks some more. "I see. Er."

"He was making her dinner last night," Sirius explains, turning to James. "That's why I had to help her buy shag me food, remember."

"Shag me food?"

"Yes. You know, food that says 'shag me'?"

"Er," contributes Alec.

James stares at them both. "Right."

"Ivy wanted to get laid," Sirius explains more bluntly, reaching past James to grab Alec's arm and tug him into the house. "I think she went accountant hunting."

".... that's not what you intend to do, right?" James asks, looking suspicious.

Sirius snorts. "Alec doesn't swing that way, do you, Al?"

Alec shakes his head. "Erm."

James winks at him.

Alec stares at him and turns a bit pink around the ears. "... you're so not helping," he mutters after a moment.

"Off with ye," James grins, waving a hand at the two of them. "Go talk about how rich we are."

"Yes. Once we get poor Alec's brain back," laughs Sirius, tugging Alec toward the kitchen.

Still grinning, James moves to close the door.

"Oi!" exclaims a female voice from the other side, as the toe of a brown leather boot is thrust between the door and the jamb. "Don't be rude, Potter."

James blinks at the foot. "Evans?"

"Yes," says the voice. "Now open this door back up and stop crushing my poor little woman toes."

James complies.

"Good," says Lily, stepping into the hall and latching both hands around James's upper arm, a determined expression on her face. "Now. Come with me."

"Er."

"Perfectly simple instruction," Lily mutters, when he doesn't move despite her tugging. "Even Remus understands that one."

"Where are we going?" James asks, sounding extremely confused.

"We're looking at dress robes, of course."

"..... what?!"

"White ones," Lily adds calmly.

"Sirius," James tries. "Si!"

Sirius's head emerges through the kitchen door. "Yeah? Oh, hullo, Lils."

Lily waves with one hand, the other still wrapped around James's arm.

".... why do you need me?" asks James.

"Need you? For what?" asks Sirius, looking a bit amused. He quirks a brow at Lily. "Stealing my man, are you, darling?"

"Yes," replies Lily. "For shopping only."

James gives Sirius a rather petrified look.

Sirius smirks. "Well, all right then. I'll go back to helping poor Alec retrieve his brain — Ivy seems to have sucked it right out."

"There is something so wrong about today," James mutters as Lily pulls him out the door.

"Don't whine," instructs Lily, laughing a little. "You get to see me play dress up."

"Oh, happy day."

"Yep." Lily drags him down to where she's parked her car. "Just make sure you pay attention. Sirius will want details."

"... we're going in a car?"

Lily gives him a look. "What did you think, we'd take your broom?"

James just looks at her.

She huffs. "For God's sake, Potter, it's a car. It's not going to eat you."

James looks very unhappy, but gets in nevertheless.

"See, I knew you could be trained," mutters Lily, as she walks around to get in on the driver's side. "Sirius just doesn't try."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing," Lily says, sliding in behind the wheel. "Off we pop, then."

"... why are you dragging me along for this, again?"

"Because Remus can't see the robes until the wedding, and I need a man's opinion."

"But Sirius —"

"I said a man's opinion."

"Hey!"

Lily glances at him, while taking a turn probably a bit faster than necessary. "What?"

"Sirius is a man," James mutters, pouting a little.

"Yes, I know that, Potter," replies Lily, rolling her eyes. "But his views on fashion are not the most manly thing about him."

"... you do have a point."

"See?" Lily grins. "Therefore, you were required."

James makes a face. "What is it you'll be needing me for, exactly?"

"Looking at things I like and telling me whether they're attractive or unnecessarily fiddly or just plain horrid, of course. Man's opinion."

"Right."

Lily glances at him. "Stop thinking about my boobs."

"I wasn't!!"

"Uh-huh. You had the boob look on your face."

James splutters.

"Sirius knows about the boob look, too."

"He does not!"

"You're so adorably clueless, Potter," laughs Lily.

"I've been called worse," James says, finally grinning back at her. "... they do give you champagne at these places, right?"

"Sometimes." Lily removes one hand from the wheel and uses her thumb to point to the back seat. "I've brought beer, in case they don't."

"I knew I loved you for a reason, Evans."

"Careful," Lily says, smirking. "I might almost start thinking we're friends."

Countryside, Southern England
16 September 1984
12.07 pm

"Enjoying yourself?" shouts Sirius, glancing up toward the sky through the fringe of hair, which keeps blowing into his eyes.

"Whassat?" James hollers back.

Sirius lifts one hand from the handle bars of his bike, cupping it around his mouth and yelling more loudly, "Enjoying yourself?"

"Don't do that!" James replies, manouvering so that he's closer to the ground. "Bloody hell, what if you fall off?"

Sirius looks amused. "Says the man doing barrel rolls!"

"Yes, but I know I won't crash!"

"And I know that I won't," retorts Sirius.

"Well, be careful," James says, poking the back of Sirius's head with his foot. "Only got one of you, and all."

"I'm irreplaceable," Sirius agrees, grinning. He glances down the road. "Tree incoming."

James takes off upwards again. "Race you?" he hollers. Sirius revs Mathilda's engine in answer. Without bothering to wait for further confirmation, James zooms off.

"... this is so not fair," Sirius mutters, obviously to himself as James is quite far ahead already. "Stupid twig thing is faster than Mathilda to begin with — when the Speed King of Quidditch is on it, we haven't got a bloody buggering chance in hell, do we, girl?"

James disappears in the distance.

"He'll be waiting for us," Sirius goes on, half glaring in the direction James has gone. "Sitting somewhere, all proud of himself. 'Oooh, look at me, I am fabulous..."

Sirius is still muttering when he rounds a bend and spots James, sitting on a rock not far from the road. He is wearing a quite obnoxious grin. Sirius brings Mathilda Ermyntrude to a grass-spitting stop in front of him.

"Fancy meeting you here," James grins.

"Racing you is pointless," Sirius complains, kicking down the stand and climbing off the motorbike.

"I quite enjoy it..."

"Naturally you would. You always win."

James's grin grows even wider. "Exactly my point." He pats the space next to him on the rock.

Sirius ignores the suggestion, instead climbing up to sit behind James, a leg on either side of his hips. He wraps an arm across the front of James's shoulders and tugs him back against his chest. "A good thing you didn't have the basket, though."

Tipping his head back so that it's resting on Sirius's shoulder, James replies, "But I packed it."

"Yeah, and it would have come all unpacked after a single one of those... stunts you do," Sirius points out, nuzzling against the side of James's neck. "Think you're unbreakable, you do."

"Y'know you love my stunts, really."

"Well, the lack of Bludgers involved in these is quite nice..."

"And here I thought the tricks that involved balls were you favourites," James grins up at him.

"Mm." Grinning too, Sirius plants a kiss behind his ear. "Are you offering one of those?"

"What, here?"

Sirius looks around. "Why not? There aren't any peoples... or goats..."

James raises an eyebrow at him.

"... which means no spectators, which means you ought to be willing."

"I thought we came out here for a picnic, not a blowjob."

"But blowjobs are always on the menu."

James winks at him.

Sirius grins. "So, please?"

"Maybe as a dessert. If you're nice."

Sirius nuzzles his neck again. "How nice?"

"Hmm...."

"I can go first," Sirius offers, grinning warmly against James's skin. "If, y'know, that's what's required for 'nice'..."

"How 'bout you feed me first?" James asks, turning his face towards Sirius's.

"But I'm hungry."

"For what, exactly?"

"If you have to ask..." Shaking his head, Sirius leans to kiss James.

Grinning, James shifts to face him more fully.

"There was no shagging this morning," Sirius mumbles, moving his mouth along James's jaw to his neck. "You had your stupid picnic idea, instead."

"Curse me, eh?"

Sirius nips at the lobe of James's ear. "Something like that."

"You know you love me really," James says, grabbing the back of Sirius's head and pulling until their noses touch. "Hi."

"Yeah, well." Sirius's smile is slow and rather soft. "I can't really help that."

"No?" James's face softens.

"No." Sirius shakes his head slightly, rubbing their noses together. "Not that I'd ever want to, anyway."

"Good," is all James says. He tugs at Sirius's hair again.

"Even," says Sirius, not moving, "though you don't give me head whenever I want it."

"Lucky me."

"Yes." With a grin, Sirius moves to kiss him again, whispering, "Because I do give head on command."

James chooses to kiss him rather than to dignify this with an answer.

"Do I really have to feed you?" Sirius asks into James's mouth.

"Afraid so," James mumbles back.

"In that case, you have to feed me, too."

"Let go of me, then," James whispers, leaning back in to kiss him again.

"But I'm comfortable with you there."

"What, between your legs?"

"Mhm." Sirius pulls away, but stays close enough to rest his forehead against James's shoulder. "Summon our food, please?"

"... what, we're eating it right here?" James asks, getting his wand out nevertheless.

Sirius makes a questioning noise. "Do you want to move?"

"My bum is going numb."

"That just means I can be as rough as I'd like, right?" But Sirius drops his arms from around James, anyway.

"Oi!" James laughs.

"Or would that work better if it were MY bum going numb?"

"Oooooh...."

Sirius laughs and shoves James down from the rock. "I thought you wanted food?"

"I do!" James exclaims, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "I'm talking about dessert here."

"Uh-huh." Sirius slides off the rock to crouch on the ground next to James. He grins. "Can I have dessert first?"

James raises an eyebrow at him.

Sirius leans closer. "I like dessert first."

"Where's the blanket?"

"In the basket," replies Sirius, eyebrow arching.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the other man, James summons it.

"Why do we need it?" Sirius inquires, almost idly, hooking a finger in one of the long bits of James's glasses.

"Why d'you think?" James asks, spreading the blanket onto the ground next to them.

"Afraid of a little grass burn?" teases Sirius, giving James's glasses a tiny tug before quickly moving away to sit on a corner of the blanket.

"I don't want grass in my food, more like," James replies, getting the food from the basket with a small, teasing grin.

"Then you should be eating indoors."

"That would be a rubbish picnic, Si."

"Not necessarily. There are beds indoors." Sirius leers at him. "We could've had a champagne and sex picnic."

"... you just made that up, right?" James asks, handing him a sandwich.

"Well, yes," admits Sirius. "But doesn't it sound absolutely smashing?"

"And messy."

"Messy can still be fun!"

James grins and shakes his head. "Eat your sandwich and be quiet."

"Bossy," mutters Sirius, and takes a huge bite.

The End

Dear Sirius (51/52)

Wed, 17 Jun 2009 17:56:05 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius (part 51/52)
Author: duva & fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: Humor/Romance
Chapter Word Count: ~3320
Status: Complete
Chapter Rating: R/M, for innuendo, language, and objectionable content, like Sirius suggesting the Gobi desert as, er, a holiday destination.
Spoilers: Uh, not really. It's so ridiculously AU that it kinda becomes almost completely unspoilerific.
Pairings: James/Sirius, Lily/Remus
Warnings: AU. Language, innuendo, and unflaccidness.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Summary: Thrice weekly in the Evening Prophet's entertainment section, Sirius Black answers all your questions, from the mundane to the complicated to the just plain weird.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine A, Chapter Nine B, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine, Chapter Thirty, Chapter Thirty-One, Chapter Thirty-Two, Chapter Thirty-Three, Chapter Thirty-Four, Chapter Thirty-Five, Chapter Thirty-Six, Chapter Thirty-Seven, Chapter Thirty-Eight, Chapter Thirty-Nine, Chapter Forty, Chapter Forty-One, Chapter Forty-Two, Chapter Forty-Three, Chapter Forty-Four, Chapter Forty-Five, Chapter Forty-Six, Chapter Forty-Seven, Chapter Forty-Eight, Chapter Forty-Nine, Chapter Fifty
Notes: Most of the important backstory for this — where it differs from canon, anyway — can be found in the newspaper collage at the beginning of the first chapter, but if you're still confused about something, please ask. If you missed any chapters, just follow the above links to get caught up. Remember to comment if you enjoyed this!

duva and fictionalcandie wrote the majority of this chapter while sitting next to each other. Using two separate computers. The height of geekery, yes. It was fabulous. And very efficient.

Monday, 3 September 1984

Dear Sirius,
How did your family, and James's, react when you told them about your relationship?
/Karen

Dear Karen,
James's mother was very happy for us. None of my blood relatives were canvassed for their opinion, except my cousin Andromeda, who is of the opinion that we "make sense" — I do love it when people agree with me.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
My best friend just told me that she doesn't want to be mates anymore and I can't stop crying. We've been best friends since we were five years old and I don't know what happened. My mum yelled at me for being stupid and emotional as it's only a friend and no boyfriend but I feel heartbroken. Am I overreacting?
/Roisin

Dear Roisin,
Aw, sweetie, no, you're not. That's a perfectly understandable reaction to a friend doing that, especially if it came out of nowhere, like you said. Sometimes friends dumping you can hurt even worse than boyfriends doing so. I know it won't fix anything, but get yourself a big bar of chocolate and try not to think about it for a few hours.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Is it true people like you have some sort of radar for spotting others like you? How does it work? Is it very reliable?
/I.L.

Dear Ill,
"People like me"? Yes, gorgeous folk do tend to be able to recognise each other...
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
What is the biggest misconception people have about you?
/Ava

Dear Ava,
I think that can be pretty much summed up with "arrogant, self-centered fribble".
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
My sister is dating a man who, for all intents and purposes, could be our father. Our dad was not a very nice man. I pointed this out to her and she told me I was imagining things. What can I do to make her see reason?
/Concerned Sister

Dear Sis,
If it were me, and just flat out, logically telling her — possibly with a point-by-point comparison, just for thoroughness — hadn't worked, I'd set about deliberately provoking the paternal-similar behaviour. And if that didn't work, well... just knock him out, Obliviate him, and dump him somewhere very far away. Like the Gobi desert.
Sirius

Wednesday, 5 September 1984

Dear Sirius,
I am convinced that my husband of six years is actually gay and in deep denial about it. He says I'm crazy and won't even talk about it until I come up with some sort of evidence. So far all I've got is that he shaves his underarms and refuses to make love to me anymore. It's a start, at least - do you have any hints on what to look for?
/Beard?

Dear Beard,
I've an idea for you. Start making comments regarding the attractiveness of fit males, such as celebrities and Quidditch players, all the time, especially when he's a bit distracted. If he really is gay, and possibly even if he's not, eventually he'll slip up and agree with you — and then you'll at least have a starting point for forcing a conversation.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
My best friend and I have been mates since we were tiny (we're in our 20s now) and we get along great, with one small exception. She's always, always putting me down in some way! She keeps talking herself up on my cost — like, "my hair colour looks so much better with these shoes than yours!" when she borrows my shoes, or "this dress would look terrible with your lack of cleavage". How can I get her to see she's really hurting me?
/Gemma

Dear Gemma,
Well, if you don't want to just say "That's really hurtful and I want you to stop", you could try turning the tables and doing the same thing to her. Either she'll realise on her own what's going on, or she'll get upset and confront you, at which time you can do the whole "well, you started it" thing.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
What is the best and worst things about being famous?
/W.R.

Dear War,
The worst thing is that there are so many people, strangers, observing and criticising my life, and the decisions I make. The best thing is, well, how easy making friends in grocery stores has become, haha.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I have managed to catch myself a boyfriend and I feel the time is ripe for me to better him. How do you go about changing things like personal hygiene, music taste, interests in general and clothing style in your mate?
/Maria

Dear Maria,
... I would only dare attempting to change personal hygiene and clothing style. Music taste and interests are not, unfortunately, the sorts of things you can just alter as you please. As for the other two, only mess with them if there's a REAL issue — like they only shower twice a month, or dress entirely in rags they've worn since they were ten — and the best way to do that is to inform them, kindly, that you'd prefer if they did something different.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you reckon it's possible to AK yourself?
/Sad

Dear Sad,
I really don't know. I never got around to trying. I, uh, don't recommend that you do so, either.
Sirius

Friday, 7 September 1984

Dear Sirius,
If you're a boy why do you have a boyfriend? Boys should have girlfriends not boyfriends. I have a girlfriend her name is Anna and she is very nice.
/Xander aged 8

Dear Xanderkins,
Well, most boys do have girlfriends — congratulations on yours, by the way! — but sometimes a boy decides he doesn't like any girls enough, and so he gets a boyfriend. Like mine. His name is James and he's very nice, too.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I hate all my housemates and they hate me too. Do you think it's possible to change houses?
/Firstie

Dear Firstie,
I'm sorry, but it isn't. My parents checked.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I REALLY REALLY REALLY hate working out but I want to get in shape. Are there any shortcuts? Some sort of spell, potion...?
/Shapeless

Dear Shapeless,
Not that big of shortcuts, no. You still have to exercise to get in shape... it's part of what it means to "be in shape" — after all, it's possible to look nice and all, but if you can't hardly walk around a room without passing out, you're not anywhere near in shape, are you? You'll just have to suck it up and try to find some form of workout that you can stand.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I'm dating a guy who, before he met me, was notorious for being a big women's man. He swears that he's changed and that he's now strictly a one-woman guy, and I've seen nothing to suggest otherwise, but people keep warning me that a tiger doesn't change his stripe and all that. What do you think? Is there a future or should I get out before I get hurt?
/Meredith

Dear Meredith,
If he says he's being faithful, and you've seen no evidence to the contrary, and he hasn't displayed any signs of being untruthful otherwise, and you're actually happy with him... why on Earth would you let other people's opinions influence you to do something which clearly goes counter to your own inclinations? Besides, prematurely ending something just because you're afraid that some point, some time later on, someone will do something to hurt you is just cowardice. Stupid cowardice, no less.
Sirius

PS: Yes, tigers do.

Dear Sirius,
My best friend has transferred to Beauxbatons and it's HORRIBLE! I have other friends but it's not the same. I miss her all the time! Is there anything I can do to make this any easier?
/Eva

Dear Eva,
Aww, poor baby! I suggest writing her lots and lots of letters, and finding people to talk to about her — and plan some really big get-together over the holidays. Also, see if the two of you can't sneak a Floo call or two. I hope things get easier for you!
Sirius

Residence of Sirius Black and James Potter
8 September 1984
12.13 am

The house is dark, except where light from a streetlamp filters through the windows, and quiet — until a loud pop sounds, announcing the arrival of someone on the step, and the front door is flung open without ceremony. Before the door has even finished bouncing off the wall, the figure is dashing up the stairs and flinging open the door to the master bedroom, as well.

Half a second later, James (without his wand or his glasses) is on his feet. One of his arms clamps tightly across the intruder's midsection, while the other goes across their neck, effectively pinning them against his chest. At the same moment, Sirius rolls halfway to the side (far enough to snatch his wand from the nightstand), then sits up, wand pointing straight at the intruder and half a Stunner already out of his mouth.

"Sirius!" squeaks the stranger. "It's me!"

"—pef— Wait, Lily?"

James loosens his hold slightly. "What the hell, Evans?"

"Overreacting much?" Lily mumbles, pulling away from him slightly and rubbing at her neck. "Ow."

Sirius's arm drops, lowering is wand to the bed, where the covers have pooled around his hips. "... swear to Merlin, if the word 'threesome' leaves your mouth, Lils—"

She blinks at him. "Actually, I was about to ask Potter to let go of my breast."

"Oh." Sirius blinks. "James, stop groping Moony's girlfriend."

James makes a small strangled noise, letting go of Lily entirely.

Smirking slightly at the colour his boyfriend's face as turned, Sirius turns his gaze back to meet Lily's. "There, you're no longer being molested."

Lily shoots him a very toothy smile. "And I am no longer Moony's girlfriend."

"WHAT?" shrieks Sirius, looking about ready to leap out of bed and kick some major werewolf arse. Lily shoves her left hand in his face.

It takes Sirius a moment to focus on the glittery bit, but then he makes the same strangled noise as James had before.

"I know!" squeaks Lily.

James just stands at the edge of the bed, looking confused.

Sirius grabs Lily's wrist, pulling and twisting at the same time so that she falls on the bed next to him, and he can wave her hand in James's direction. "Lookit! There is sparkly!"

"Er," says James.

"On a very important finger," Sirius adds, pointing.

James blinks, before his eyes widen. "Oh!"

Sirius redirects his pointing finger to Lily's face. "How long?"

Lily glances at her watch. "Sixteen minutes!"

"... you wasted sixteen minutes in telling me?"

"... you felt the need to tell us this at a quarter past midnight?" James says at the same time.

Sirius sends James something that might be either a glare or a pout. "Why shouldn't she have? We weren't doing anything important."

"Some people might consider sleeping important," James argues. "Blanket."

"Naps were invented for a reason," counters Sirius, staring at Lily's hand some more. Lily smooths down the blanket, covering up Sirius's bits once it becomes apparent that he's not going to bother. He doesn't seem to notice.

"I'm engaged!" Lily half-shrieks.

"I see that!" Sirius beams back.

"Congratulations," James says, sounding like he actually means it. "Er, d'you mind if I put a shirt on?"

"Oh, like she's even going to notice your naked-chestness."

Lily gives him a quick once-over.

"... or maybe she will."

Blushing again, James grabs a shirt off the floor and shrugs it on. "You're lucky I was wearing pants," he mumbles.

"Which is an ironic statement if I've ever heard one," adds Sirius. He lifts Lily's hand again. "May we focus on the temporarily-more-important-than-naked-James-ness now?"

"Ring!" squeals Lily.

Sirius nods. "Engagement!"

"May I please sit down on my bed now?"

"Finally," Sirius adds, rather ambiguously.

James sits down at the very edge of the bed.

"It was so romantic," Lily gushes. "One knee and roses and it's our anniversary and —"

Sirius makes a half-horrified face. "Remus John Lupin did something romantic?"

"— you didn't put him up to it, did you?"

Sirius's expression instantly shifts to completely indignant. "I beg your pardon."

"You didn't put the idea in his head, did you?" Lily repeats, frowning.

"Oh, yeah, because I would totally tell Remus that he could pull off romantic," Sirius scoffs. "Please, Lils, this is the kind of important that he needs to do on his own. Even I know that."

James tries to hold back a snigger.

"Oh," Lily says, enormous smile returning. "Well, good."

"Very good," agrees Sirius. "Except I would totally have picked out a better rock."

"Please don't," mutters James.

"Shut it." Sirius shoots him a brief smirk. "You, I've already got rocks for."

"Oi!"

Sirius is already turning back to Lily. "So, bended knee, you say?"

"Yes," Lily says, still beaming. "And then I made him pinch me."

"And he didn't get offended and purple?"

"He laughed!"

"My god, it really is a miracle!"

"I know," Lily says. Her eyes are starting to look rather wet.

Sirius turns her hand so the diamond on her ring sparkles, even in the dim light from the window. "I mean, this is monumental, right here. Historic, even."

"Very nice," James agrees. "Si, you do realise you have to be up in less than seven hours..?"

Sirius dismisses the remark with a tiny wave. "Last week I went into work after two hours sleep, three days in a row. This is shiny."

Lily stares at her own hand happily. "Isn't it pretty?"

"... actually, it is," replies Sirius, sounding faintly amazed.

"And he picked it out himself," Lily adds, sounding rather unbelieving.

"What, you mean without any help?" Sirius raises his eyebrows. "No way."

"I do occasionally have some taste, you know," a new voice says from the doorway, sounding rather long-suffering.

"Oh, great," James mumbles, wincing. "Now it's a party."

Lily beams. "Hi, baby."

"Lupin," says Sirius, looking up at the man as he steps into the room. "You are engaged."

"Congratulations," James offers.

"Thank you," replies Remus, his chest puffing out slightly. He glances around the room, taking stock of everyone sitting on the bed, and Sirius's bare chest. "But really, Lily, this is a bit much, don't you think?"

"Why?"

"Normally, when women accept a man's marriage proposal, they don't usually run off without a word of warning to sit on a bed in the dark with his best friends." Remus pauses, wincing slightly. "Naked, apparently."

"Blanket," James says again.

"What?" asks Sirius, sounding legitimately confused.

"Blanket," Remus repeats, gesturing vaguely toward Sirius's lap.

Sirius glances down. "Oh. Blanket."

"Bloody —" James reaches across Lily, covering him back up. "There."

"Does he just not own pants?" demands Remus, looking a little desperately in the direction of James and Sirius's chest of drawers.

"Don't open that!" James snaps.

Remus jerks back like he's been burned, even though he hasn't touched anything. "... do NOT tell me why I shouldn't!"

James gives him a look. Remus pulls a face and turns instead to switch on the light.

"... why are you two spending your engagement night here, again?" asks James.

"Because her ring is pretty," says Sirius, from where he and Lily are still absorbed admiring the sparkles.

"Well, you can't have your celebratory shag in here," James says firmly. "I just changed these sheets."

"That was before we did the thing we did before we fell asleep," Sirius points out, still without taking his eyes from the ring. "So technically they're not clean, anyway."

James colours again. Remus, surprisingly, doesn't.

"We really do need to teach you about what other people need to know and not," James mumbles at Sirius.

"It won't work," mutters Sirius.

"I think the problem is that he doesn't care," says Remus, at the same time.

"Quite," James agrees. "So, when's the big day?"

Abruptly, and for the first time since walking into the dark room, Remus looks a bit panicked. "I was supposed to think that far?"

"June 15th," Lily says at the same time.

Remus blinks at her. Then, much more calmly, "June 15th, of course."

"I'm requesting the whole week off," Sirius declares.

"... you're not about to offer to be the maid of honour, are you?" asks James.

"No!" Sirius shoots him a wounded look. "... I was about to accept, when Lily — of course — offered."

"... can a man actually be maid of honour?" asks Remus, frowning. "Especially such an obviously non-virgin-y man?"

"Are you calling me a slut?"

"This is not relevant," Lily interjects. "Look at my BLING."

"'Bling'?" Remus repeats in a much smaller voice.

"Congratulations, Lils. You have successfully confused your fiancé for the first time ever," announces Sirius, obediently continuing to ogle the ring. "I am proud of you."

Lily makes a very high pitched noise.

Remus stares at the two of them. "... I've had an epiphany, James."

"Yeah?"

"You really are dating a girl."

James raises his eyebrows. Sirius turns a prefabricated glare on the man. "I could stand up," he says, rather loudly.

Going a bit pink, Remus hurriedly shakes his head. "No, no, that's— uh, that's not necessary. I, er, take it back."

"How did this end up being my life?" James asks, shaking his head.

"You smiled at me on the Hogwarts Express when you were eleven," answers Sirius, still glaring at Remus. "After that, you were doomed."

James turns to give him a grin.

Remus huffs. "And now I need an insulin injection, or something."

"You're the one who got down on one knee," James argues, still grinning rather schmoopily at Sirius.

"I usually prefer to use both," Sirius adds.

James covers his face with his hands.

"Stop stealing my thunder," Lily says, jabbing him in the ribs with her elbow.

"Take your thunder home, then," replies Sirius unrepentantly, grinning now. "I'm sure your new fiancé would appreciate a bit of lightning tonight, and I think I need to blow James like a very large hurricane."

"Sirius," James complains, still covering his face with his hands.

"What?" Sirius turns to him with an innocent expression. "If I'm perverted enough, Remus will become horrified and they'll leave to preserve his sanity. It's strategy."

Ignoring him, Lily sits up on the bed. "Wanna go home, babe?"

Remus beams at her. "That is the second-best thing you've said all night."

"Aw," James says.

"Now I need insulin," protests Sirius. Going up on his knees, he points imperiously toward the door. "Out, you soppy lovebirds, you."

"Blanket!"

"God, I can't see that!" shrieks Remus, slapping a hand over his eyes. "It's not even flaccid, Sirius!"

"This is my bedroom," says Sirius reasonably. "I can be naked and aroused if I want to be naked and aroused."

"But the woman I'm going to marry can see that!"

"Afraid she'll change her mind?" James mumbles.

Remus and Sirius both glance down. Then Remus turns purple and glances quickly away again, while Sirius shrugs. "Why would she? It's not like she'd get this if she did."

"I just want everyone to know that this is on the list of conversations I'd hoped never to have," Remus announces loudly, looking pointedly at anything but Sirius.

"Get out," James says, grinning.

"Yes," agrees Sirius. "Or you'll be watching something you hoped never to see."

"I'm going!" shrieks Remus, starting for the door.

"Actually —" Lily begins.

Remus spins back around, marching over to the bed and grabbing Lily by her newly be-ringed hand. "NO."

"Bye!" Lily says, waving with her right hand. "Have fun!"

Sirius waves back as Remus tugs her out of the room. "You as well!"

"Congrats!" James shouts after them. "Please knock next time!"

"Or at least be quiet on your way in!"

"Sirius."

"... I mean, yes, knock."

"Goodnight," shouts Remus, from somewhere near the bottom of the stairs.

Knowing

Sat, 13 Jun 2009 15:40:33 GMT

Title: Knowing
Author: fictioncandie via garderob
Genre: PWP…?
Word Count: 215-ish
Rating: R/M
Warnings: Pr0n. Hai.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, they’d be like this all the time. Actually, I should own them; I like them like this. :p
Blurb: James knows Sirius inside-out. Literally.
Notes: This is really just by way of proving that I did not die on my transatlantic flight to see duva. And also because I like writing dirty J/S while listening to naughty songs. And I’ve got a mojito. Which has nothing to do with anything. Anyway. Drabfic.

He had Sirius Black figured out.

Others might find the young man a little mysterious, or possibly confusing, but not James.

After all, there were only so many times you could have someone on his knees at your feet, your come dripping down his chin, saying please with that desperate catch in his throat, before you could honestly say that you knew a thing or two about him. Like how James knew that Sirius apparently didn’t know how to say no.

Not to him, anyway.

Not when it meant Sirius pressed against a wall with his jeans around his feet and James’s hand clamped hard across his mouth to muffle the noises that tended to leave him while James’s cock was in his ass. 

Not when it meant being alone with James in less sexual situations, either, but which could get them in just as much — or occasionally even more — trouble than being found fucking in the Gryffindor locker room. Like stealing priceless potions from Slughorn’s private stores, or becoming Animagi so they could play around with a werewolf every full moon.

Sirius really didn’t know how to say no.

He also didn’t know how to hide the fact that all James had to do was think “Jump,” and he’d be panting “How high?” with eager eyes.

Dear Sirius (50/52)

Thu, 11 Jun 2009 02:43:17 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius (part 50/52)
Author: duva & fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: Humor/Romance
Chapter Word Count: ~3800
Status: Complete
Chapter Rating: NC-17/MA(-ish), for innuendo, language, and sexual and objectionable content, like Sirius being... strongly opinionated.
Spoilers: Uh, not really. It's so ridiculously AU that it kinda becomes almost completely unspoilerific.
Pairing: James/Sirius
Warnings: AU. Language, innuendo, sexual content.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Summary: Thrice weekly in the Evening Prophet's entertainment section, Sirius Black answers all your questions, from the mundane to the complicated to the just plain weird.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine A, Chapter Nine B, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine, Chapter Thirty, Chapter Thirty-One, Chapter Thirty-Two, Chapter Thirty-Three, Chapter Thirty-Four, Chapter Thirty-Five, Chapter Thirty-Six, Chapter Thirty-Seven, Chapter Thirty-Eight, Chapter Thirty-Nine, Chapter Forty, Chapter Forty-One, Chapter Forty-Two, Chapter Forty-Three, Chapter Forty-Four, Chapter Forty-Five, Chapter Forty-Six, Chapter Forty-Seven, Chapter Forty-Eight, Chapter Forty-Nine
Notes: Most of the important backstory for this — where it differs from canon, anyway — can be found in the newspaper collage at the beginning of the first chapter, but if you're still confused about something, please ask. If you missed any chapters, just follow the above links to get caught up. Remember to comment if you enjoyed this!

This chapter is being posted several hours late, as fictionalcandie spent a lot of today flailing... and a small bit of it packing. She's very apologetic, underneath some severe and incoherent excitement. (She's leaving to visit duva in less than 36 hours. Yeah.)

Monday, 27 August 1984

Dear Sirius,
I understand you have issues with your mother. Do you reckon these are the reason you shun women and have even turned gay?
/Blenda

Dear Blenda,
I have issues with my mother because she is a raging, psychotic, bigoted B*TCH, and my homosexuality or lack thereof is in no way related to that fact. Furthermore, I do not shun women; not including James, two-thirds of my closest friends are female.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Have you ever participated in a werewolf hunt? If not, I'm organising one next month (full moon, of course!) if you'd be interested in attending.
/Huntsman

Dear Huntsman,
No, I'm busy every full moon — I've a standing hot date. But please excuse me while I hunt YOU.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I recently went to Southampton and they were all going on about something called a Titanic. Do you have any insight into what this might be?
/Delilah

Dear Delilah,
Well, decades ago there was this really big boat-shaped ice cube tray that, er, sank, so people started calling it unsinkable... Kinda amusing, really. (And you thought Muggles didn't have a sense of humour.) Maybe that's it?
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
My significant other is too good looking. It's giving bad self esteem and all sorts of trouble. Is there any way I can even the scores a bit?
/E.

Dear Eee,
Eh, I have never had that problem. How about you frequently, sternly remind yourself that there MUST be SOMETHING awesome about you, or they wouldn't be with you.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
A while ago my friend and I were discussing baby names, as we were both pregnant at the same time. I told her about the names I've wanted for my children since I was fifteen years old, and now that she's had her baby, she's stolen my number one name for a boy! I'm still four weeks away from my due date and now I have no boy name! Is this a nice and fair thing to do?
/Nameless mama

Dear Nameless,
Well, er, I suppose maybe it isn't, technically, but... why is this even a problem? Is there some legal reason why you can't use the boy name, too? I mean, you won't get arrested for exceeding a limit, or something, right? Anyway, if you really CAN'T use it, too, then I suggest James. James is a good name.
Sirius

Wednesday, 29 August 1984

Dear Sirius,
I think a friend of mine has a crush on me. How can you tell, though? I know it's not an exact science, but some pointers would be helpful.
/Isobel

Dear Izzy,
Do they look at you for just a beat too long sometimes?
Do they seem to touch you unnecessarily, such as when handing each other something?
Do they ever seem to go more out of their way for you than they do your other friends?
Do they disparage your significant others, to your face or to mutual friends, regardless of your significant others' traits, personalities or features?
Do they behave in an openly hostile manner when they're in the same room as your significant others?
If you answered 'yes' to at least three of those, you're probably right and your friend probably has a crush on you.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
What, to date, has been the scariest moment of your life and why?
/Ophelia

Dear Ophelia,
Ah. Well. That was something I could have done without reliving, outside my nightmares. Ahem. During the War, there was this one particular fight James and I ended up in with a bunch of Death Eaters, an extra nasty one, just the two of us, when we weren't expecting to be fighting at all. They came out of nowhere, got the drop on us, outnumbered at least three-to-one but probably more like five-to-one. (Those kinds of details are a bit fuzzy.) James went down almost right away, bleeding all over the place... I wasn't close enough to be sure he was breathing, but it didn't look as if he were, and there really was so much blood. For twenty whole minutes, I thought he was dead. Hopefully you don't actually need me to explain why that terrified me all the way down to my toes.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
All of my coworkers are toerags and I really hate them. (Some of them smell, too.) I love my job, though. What would you do in my situation and why?
/Outsider

Dear Outsider,
Deliberately piss off everyone but your boss. If you're lucky, they'll all quit or request transfers or simply start pretending you don't exist.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
My wife and I are having our first baby in October and we're really excited (obviously), but we just found out we're having a boy and now we're freaking out a bit. Do you think two women are qualified to raise a son? The biological father is an acquaintance of ours and will meet the baby, but will not be involved in raising him. Are we being silly, or should we go shop for a man-nanny?
/Elizabeth

Dear Elizabeth,
Ma'am, you've got nothing to worry about, so long as there's SOME male running around somewhere reasonably close to the pair of you that he can take as a role model. What most people don't seem to realise is that females are an essential part of raising males — otherwise they turn out mean and misogynistic and all kinds of not-cool. Just make sure you've got someone to name as godfather for your little boy, and you should be good.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Don't you and James Potter ever get sick and tired of each other? With him being your best friend, roommate AND boyfriend, you're bound to spend a LOT of time together, right?
/Benji

Dear Benji,
That's the way I like things! Though sometimes, of course, James does order me out of the house... usually because he has to clean something and he's tired of me trying to entice him into shagging, instead.
Sirius

Friday, 31 August 1984

Dear Sirius,
What is your opinion on ending a relationship via owl? (Does it make a difference if the relationship is a marriage?)
/Nuno

Dear Nuno,
That's the coward's way out and should be avoided at all costs except when it's absolutely, er, unavoidable. If it's a marriage that you're ending via owl, well, you're doubly chickensh*t.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
You're really fit so why don't you date someone better looking than James Potter? He has funny hair and specs and he's not half as fit as Roan Williamson. Just a suggestion!
/Aimee

Dear Aimee,
Because I'm not in love with Roan Williamson, or anyone else, and I'd rather stab myself in the throat than seriously date anyone who is not my James. And his hair is not funny. And I love his glasses. And he's perfectly bloody fit. Thank you very much.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you know of any glamour spells? I am really fickle when it comes to my appearance and love changing my hair colour, eye colour and all that, but it's so time consuming to do it the Muggle way! I don't need (or want) it to be permanent or anything, just for a laugh. Any ideas?
/Vera

Dear Vera,
Actually, I saw a book the last time I was in Flourish and Blotts that might help you. It's full of just those sort of spells you mentioned, ranging from ones that only last a half an hour, to those that are permanent without the counterspell. I don't remember what it was called, but you shouldn't have any trouble finding it if you ask the clerk.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I have a problem. I think my boyfriend's best mate hates me!! He's always snarky and mean and horrible and I've been nothing but nice to him. Whenever my boyfriend's around he's nice enough, but as soon as he leaves... even his wife is starting to question him on why he's so rude to me. My boyfriend, however, doesn't believe me! What should I do? This is really stressing me out!
/Shunned

Dear Shunned,
The next time he starts being a toerag, loudly inform him that if he's that jealous of you, he should have done something about it a long time ago.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Is it possible to be allergic to houses? I think I'm allergic to my office, you see.
/Sally

Dear Sally,
I'm not an expert, but I don't think so. Maybe you're allergic to something — or someone — at your office?
Sirius

Residence of Sirius Black and James Potter
2 September 1984
8.53 am

Blinking slightly in the morning sunlight, James shifts closer to the body next to him. With a yawn, he snakes his arm across Sirius's waist, pressing his front tightly against the other man's back.

Giving a low, sleepy murmur, Sirius snuggles backwards without waking. James presses a lazy kiss against the back of his neck.

Sirius snuggles further. "...m'love?"

"Morning," James mumbles back, tightening his hold.

"...'m sleepin'."

"I'm waking you up," replies James, with a small forward thrust of his hips.

"Well, you're already up," Sirius mumbles, half into the pillow. He wiggles his hips against James's.

James chuckles, then presses his lips to Sirius's neck again.

Grinning a bit, Sirius opens his eyes and twists his torso until he can see James. "Mm... what time is it?"

"Does it matter?"

Sirius's grin widens a few fractions. "Well not really, but I told Ivy—"

James's hand moves lower on Sirius's belly.

"—but that's not really important, is it?" Sirius finishes, his muscles jumping beneath James's hand.

"No," agrees James, shifting so that he can kiss Sirius properly.

Sirius moans softly, lifting a hand to twine through James's hair. "I like waking up this way," he pulls away far enough to announce.

"Thank Merlin for Sundays," James replies as his hand slips beneath the covers bunched up around their waists.

"Yes," agrees Sirius, arching his hips toward that hand. "Imagine if I had to leave for work in twenty."

"I'm glad you think so highly of me."

Sirius chuckles, leaning and pressing his lips to the side of James's neck. "Who says it's you?"

James wraps his fingers around him.

"Shit, never mind, yes it's you," Sirius says quickly.

"Good morning," James laughs.

"You said that already, I think," gasps Sirius, pushing forward into James's hand.

"I'm not talking to you."

"... if you're gonna talk to it, I think you should give it a morning kiss, too."

James nips at his neck.

Sirius moans again. "Love, if you woke me up to be a tease, we will be fighting," he mutters.

"No fighting," James replies, letting go of Sirius for a moment as he reaches over to his bedside table.

"I don't like fighting," mutters Sirius, kicking the blanket off his legs.

"What do you like, then?" asks James as his hand returns to its earlier ministrations.

"Shagging," Sirius replies, tipping his head back as he rocks into James's hand.

James chuckles. "Oh, good."

Sirius's hand goes between them to wrap around James. "I really think there's too much talking going on here," he mutters.

"You're cranky when you're sleepy," James replies. His fingers loosen their grip.

Sirius makes an annoyed noise and lets go of James entirely. "This should not be news to you."

James's hand moves back to Sirius's hip. "Ssh."

"Hmph." Sirius turns back around, pushing his arse against James's groin.

"Trust me," James mumbles, over the sound of a bottle cap being unscrewed.

"Like I've ever not," says Sirius, in a far less pouty tone.

"Well then, stop sulking," whispers James, gently sliding a finger inside of him.

Sirius makes a breathy noise and doesn't answer, hips pressing back again.

"I really like Sundays," breathes James, his own hips pushing forward on their own accord.

"I really like you," murmurs Sirius, over his shoulder.

"D'you really have to see Ivy this morning?" James asks as he eases in a second finger.

"No," Sirius says shortly, wiggling his arse further onto James's hand. "Don't talk about girls when you're about to fuck me."

James bites back a moan. "Fair enough."

Sirius moves his hand down to his own cock, stroking slowly. "So what're you waiting for?"

"Just giving you a chance to adjust," replies James, pressing a kiss to the back of Sirius's neck again. "You did just wake up, and all."

"That was ages ago," Sirius dismisses breathlessly.

"Good," moans James in reply, removing his hand and sliding inside of him.

"Merlin," gasps Sirius, voice a happy moan.

"James is just fine."

"Uh-huh," Sirius mumbles, beginning to rock his hips gently.

"Can't you just stay here," James asks, attaching his lips to Sirius's neck once more as he thrusts forward, "all day?"

"Fuck, I wish I could."

James's reply is half moan, half chuckle.

"I really do," mutters Sirius, rocking his hips backwards.

"Then do," James mumbles against his neck. "We'll wrap up here, have a shower..."

Sirius makes a hopeful noise. "A shower?"

James makes a noise of agreement.

"I think I'd like a shower."

"We'll have a shower," says James, "and then I'll – oh – I'll make you breakfast in bed –"

Sirius moans softly, his back arching. "With bacon?"

James moans back in reply, biting down on Sirius's neck. "Anything you want."

"Bacon," Sirius repeats decidedly, his voice hitching oddly on the single word.

"Just shut up about bacon already," groans James, arching his hips forwards rather sharply.

"Nng," hisses Sirius, his body clenching. "Fuck, love."

James bites down on his neck again. Sirius makes a low, keening noise.

"Stay," James whispers.

Sirius breathes a swear word in response.

There is a muffled noise, rather like a knock, from somewhere in the house. James lifts his head a fraction. Oblivious, Sirius just rocks his hips backwards.

There's another, different noise from the lower level.

"Si," James warns. "Did you hear anything?"

"Did you say anything?"

"No, I – yeah, do that again."

Moaning, Sirius tightens around James again, arching and turning his head for a kiss.

James responds with enthusiasm, all thoughs of weird noises seemingly forgotten.

There are light footsteps on the stairs.

"Merlin, love," moans Sirius.

"Yeah," James agrees.

"You feel so go—"

The door opens.

James's eyes go wide. "Accio blanket!" he snaps, catching said blanket in his (wandless) hand and throwing it over their hips.

A moment later, Ivy's head peeks around the door. "Sirius, are you awake?"

"Ivy?" asks Sirius, going up on his elbow and twisting to blink rather confusedly at her. "Uh, hi."

James goes beet red, hiding his face in Sirius's neck.

"I thought we said 9 o'cl –" Ivy breaks off, noticing their rather compromising positions. "Oh."

"We did," agrees Sirius, rather absently, his forehead wrinkling thoughtfully. He glances down at James. "Love, did you just—"

Ivy just stands there.

"Do you mind?" James finally manages, sounding rather pained.

Blinking, Ivy backs out of the room. "Sorry, sorry, sorry! I'll just wait until you're done, take your time, enjoy, no worries."

Sirius doesn't seem to be paying attention to her. "You don't have your wand," he says to James.

".... unless you've changed your mind about that threeway..."

The arm not being used to support Sirius waves Ivy away. "That was rather hot," he announces, the thoughtful expression melting from his face.

James's head falls onto the pillow as the door closes. "That was mortifying!"

"Mm." A gleam has appeared in Sirius's eyes. "No."

"No?!"

"If she came back in here, d'you reckon you could summon something else, too?"

James begins to pull out.

"Don't you dare!"

"What?"

I am getting my shag this morning, James Potter," declares Sirius, a touch sternly.

"... are you serious?"

"You'd think by now you'd know better than to ask that question," Sirius says, letting his elbow slip out from underneath him and untwisting himself so that he's once more lying comfortably on the bed.

"Si," James objects. "Your friend just walked in on us."

"Yes, and then she walked back out."

"But –"

"And you were being all impressive, and I am still horny." Sirius pauses to throw a hopeful look over his shoulder. "Please?"

"... impressive?" James asks, shifting his hips just slightly forward.

Sirius nods, his breath catching slightly.

"Impressive how?"

"Wandless magic is hot," mumbles Sirius.

"... what wandless magic?" James asks, his left hand snaking up Sirius's hip.

"...summoning the blanket?"

"... oh."

"Yes." Sirius grins. "I like it when you do hot things."

James can't quite keep the grin out of his voice. "Wandless magic turns you on, eh?"

"When you do it."

"Maybe I'll have to practice," James says, his voice low. "Si?"

Sirius makes a questioning noise.

"You really leaving, then?"

"After you shag me."

"Shame," James says, pressing his lips to the back of Sirius's neck again. "I guess I better make up for all the time we'll lose, then." His left hand wraps around Sirius's erection.

Sirius moans. "I— uh-— yes."

"Make sure you don't forget me," adds James, punctuating the statement with a quick thrust,

A strangled noise leaves Sirius's throat. "...no."

James speeds up slightly.

"Yes," moans Sirius, arching to meet each of the thrusts.

"Want you to think about this," James whispers. "All day."

"Was going to anyway," Sirius gasps back.

"You're dreadful, you know that?"

"So're you."

"And you get off on it," James groans.

Sirius doesn't dignify this with a reply, instead moaning, "Fuck, James, harder."

"Don't go," James says as he complies.

"'s only for a few hours." Sirius lifts his arm to tangle his fingers in the hair at the base of James's skull. "Think how much fun we'll have when I get back."

James chuckles darkly. "And a shower?"

"And a shower," Sirius confirms breathlessly.

"And we'll lock the door."

Sirius chuckles noncommittally.

James's grip tightens around Sirius.

"Ah, shit."

"C'mon," James gasps.

"Just... a little harder, love," says Sirius, half-pleading.

"Always harder," James says, doing as asked nevertheless. "Bloody insatiable —"

Sirius hisses his pleasure. "Almost sounds like — fuck — you're complaining," he manages.

"Never," James moans back, slamming his hips forward. "Like that?"

"Oh fucking yes!"

"Yes," James agrees, repeating the motion. "You — oh —"

Sirius moans incoherently, his body moving in time with James's.

"You'll hurry back home," groans James. It's more of a demand than a question.

Sirius nods frantically.

"Say it."

"I'll hurry," Sirius gasps almost immediately, hand moving down to wrap around James's on his cock.

James moans loudly. "Yeah, you will."

"Just you hurry now," Sirius pleads.

"Not before you," says James as he speeds up even further. His lips latch on to the back of Sirius's neck.

Sirius opens his mouth to reply, but his muscles clench suddenly, and the only sound he ends up making is a hoarse, wordless shout as he convulses, coming hotly on their hands and his stomach. James lets out a rather smug sounding short laugh, his hips keeping up their movement.

"...oh, fucking shit," mutters Sirius, his eyes closed now.

"Si," James gasps. His hand slips from Sirius's cock to his hip.

"... yeah?"

"Just —"

"Mm?" Sirius turns his head, lips searching for James's.

James kisses him rather desperately.

"C'mon," Sirius mumbles into James's mouth. "Come for me, love."

"Now who's bossy," James manages, before his hips slam forward one final time and his words trail into a wordless moan.

Sirius makes a smug, laughing noise, leaning for another kiss.

"Good morning," James mumbles against his lips.

"Afternoon will be better," Sirius mumbles back, grinning.

"Hurry up and leave then," says James, showing no sign of releasing him, "so you can get back."

Sirius's grin gets wider. "Gotta let me go first, love."

"Don't wanna."

"Greedy bastard."

James's arms loosen their hold. "Get out, then." He's still wearing a lazy grin.

"Right," says Sirius, pulling away only to lean back in a drop a swift kiss on the corner of James's mouth. "You go back to sleep."

"Mm," James agrees, turning over. "Have fun."

"We will when I get back," Sirius replies, climbing out of bed and grabbing his wand off the nightstand.

"Kiss," James demands, pouting his lips.

Performing a quick Scorgify, Sirius rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, though he's still grinning. "Sir, yes sir," he mutters, rounding the bed and leaning over for a proper kiss.

"Love you," James whispers when he pulls away.

"Know that," Sirius whispers back, brushing the backs of his fingers down James's cheek before he straightens.

"That's not a proper reply," complains James as he flips onto his stomach, pulling a pillow up over his head.

"Your cock is my friend?" Sirius tries teasingly, grabbing a pair of boxers from a half-open drawer and pulling them on.

"Better, but no."

"You're my favourite boyfriend?" Sirius teases again, already halfway into his jeans.

James makes a displeased noise.

Sirius chuckles and buttons his jeans before he says anything else. A t-shirt and a pair of socks in one hand, he walks back to the bed and plants a kiss on James's bare shoulder. "I love you, James."

"I know."

Laughing, Sirius tucks his wand into his pocket with his free hand and turns to leave the room.

Cheerful smile on his face, he bounds downstairs, heading for the kitchen, his shirt and socks still in his hand.

He stops short just inside the door.

"Oh, good, you're done," says Ivy, who is perched on the kitchen counter, a glass of orange juice in one hand, the morning paper in the other. "Shall we go or do you need some nourishment first?"

Sirius stares at her for a moment. "You were in our kitchen."

"Yes?"

"The... whole time?" Sirius glances, a bit nervously over his shoulder.

"When I wasn't getting the paper," Ivy nods. "Is he always that loud?"

"Sometimes louder," Sirius replies immediately, then glances over his shoulder again as he seems to realise what he's just said. "I mean—"

"And bossy, too."

Sirius switches his gaze between Ivy and the doorway several times. He grunts something unintelligible and quickly begins to yank his shirt on.

Ivy hops off the counter. "What was that?"

"We should leave before James decides to come down," announces Sirius, once his head is through the shirt's neckhole. "He'll turn eight shades of purple if he realises you were here."

"Really?" asks Ivy, but she heads towards the door. "Didn't sound like he has anything to be ashamed of." She pauses. "And he has nice arms, too."

"Nice other bits, too," mutters Sirius, stopping at the fridge to grab an apple. "Do me a favour and go grab my boots? They're by the front door."

"Only because I like you," Ivy grins, heading towards the hall instead.

"Bloody voyuer woman," Sirius mutters at her back, then bites the apple to hold it between his teeth while he yanks his socks on.

Dear Sirius (49/52)

Wed, 03 Jun 2009 20:58:48 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius (part 49/52)
Author: duva & fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: Humor/Romance
Chapter Word Count: ~4240
Status: Complete
Chapter Rating: PG-13/T, for innuendo, language, and objectionable content, like Sirius in the same sentence as head shaving.
Spoilers: Uh, not really. It's so ridiculously AU that it kinda becomes almost completely unspoilerific.
Pairing: James/Sirius
Warnings: AU. Language, innuendo.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Summary: Thrice weekly in the Evening Prophet's entertainment section, Sirius Black answers all your questions, from the mundane to the complicated to the just plain weird.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine A, Chapter Nine B, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine, Chapter Thirty, Chapter Thirty-One, Chapter Thirty-Two, Chapter Thirty-Three, Chapter Thirty-Four, Chapter Thirty-Five, Chapter Thirty-Six, Chapter Thirty-Seven, Chapter Thirty-Eight, Chapter Thirty-Nine, Chapter Forty, Chapter Forty-One, Chapter Forty-Two, Chapter Forty-Three, Chapter Forty-Four, Chapter Forty-Five, Chapter Forty-Six, Chapter Forty-Seven, Chapter Forty-Eight
Notes: Most of the important backstory for this — where it differs from canon, anyway — can be found in the newspaper collage at the beginning of the first chapter, but if you're still confused about something, please ask. If you missed any chapters, just follow the above links to get caught up. Remember to comment if you enjoyed this!

Monday, 20 August 1984

Dear Sirius,
Now that you're a boyfriend richer but a roommate poorer, do you need someone to fill that void? Since you must have a spare bedroom and all. I am very well behaved and never smoke indoors. What do you say?
/Paula, 37

Dear SWF,
I'm sure we appreciate the offer, but I'm not actually a roommate poorer, I just get to do naughty things to him and sleep in the same bed every night now. And we don't have a spare bedroom, either — we've a future-trophy room, with boxes and a couple of dust bunny colonies. It's very nice.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Would you ever shave your head? For charity?
/Melinda

Dear Melinda,
How would shaving my head help charity? I mean, sure, I might, conceivably, donate my hair to, say, some group that makes wigs for children with cancer, or something... but that'd be the only reason I would. I would never shave my head as a publicity stunt — I can think of better, anyway.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I'm in a bit of a pickle, as it were. I'm in a relationship with this girl and I'm trying to get out of it, but she won't let me! Every time I try to bring up the topic she quickly changes it, and the one time I actually got to the point and told her I want to break up, her response was "no you don't"! What should I do?
/Trapped

Dear Trapped,
Skip getting to the point and just... get there. In the middle of some other conversation, without warning, just announce "We're over" and leave. (Normally I wouldn't condone such behaviour, but, well, it sounds like there are extenuating circumstances.)
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I have a problem. One of my friends is having an affair with a mutual friend's husband, and she confided in me. Now I don't know what to do. Do I break her confidence and tell my friend who's being cheated on, or the other way around? And to make matters worse, I'm friends with the husband, too!
/Rock, hard place

Dear Morass,
The friend having the affair had no right to put you in such an untenable position. Now, I'm not saying that her doing so relieves you of the burden of keeping her confidence — but clearly this woman has already betrayed one friend, and besides that, she should have realised that you have loyalties to that woman, in addition to her. Were I in your position, I would go to the husband (after I slap the woman who did the confiding to begin with) and tell him that you know about his affair, and that if he doesn't come clean about it to his wife, you'll feel obligated to fill her in, yourself.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I just became the proud father of a little boy, and we're naming him James. However my wife and I can't decide upon a nickname for him, and we figured you might be able to help, having a James close at hand! What would you recommend, and what nickname(s) does your James go by?
/Daddy

Dear Daddy,
Congratulations! James is an excellent name. Unfortunately, my James doesn't really allow anyone to use nicknames for him — except "Prongs" but that has nothing to do with his actual name so it doesn't count. I sometimes call him "Jim" to let him know I'm not happy, though, or "Jimmy" if I'm being deliberately cute or annoying. Maybe you can call your little bundle of joy "Jamie"? I always thought that was well darling...
Sirius

Wednesday, 22 August 1984

Dear Sirius,
I am a 22-year old woman with a 17-year old brother, and over the course of the summer I've noticed something really disturbing. I find a bunch of his friends really, really fit (you should see the arms on one of them)! What is wrong with me? Am I a pervert?
/Thalia

Dear Thalia,
Don't worry, no, you're not a pervert. You just like younger men. (At least you're not lusting over 15-year olds or something. Now that'd be rather pervy.) Besides, younger men with gorgeous arms are... nice.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
What does it mean if you tell someone you love them, and they reply with "and I love spending time with you"?
/Concerned

Dear Concerned,
It means you're screwed, that's what it means. I hope you have practice being unhappy — because you're probably going to be getting very good at it, shortly.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you ever take young women for joyrides on the back of your motorcycle, to impress them? If so, does it work?
/Lowell

Dear Lowell,
No, not really. I've given Lils a ride a time or two, because I can and because it's amusing to watch her boyfriend get jealous, and I've promised eventual rides to another friend and my little cousin... but none of that has to do with impressing them. I imagine if I set out to do so, it probably would — though, of course, if I set out to impress them, I doubt I'd need my bike. James sure seems impressed, anyway, and he doesn't even like Mathilda.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I really wanted a baby sister but I got a baby brother instead. Why didn't my mummy and daddy listen to me properly before getting me one?
/Alice

Dear Alice,
Don't be too mad at your parents! The baby store doesn't let mummies and daddies pick whether they get boys are girls.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I have a bit of a problem. I recently got together with the most wonderful girl in the world whom I have been in love with for years and everything is great... or would be, if I could stop being upset that I've been in love with her for much longer than she's been in love with me. She only fell for me a few months ago and every time I think about all those years spent loving her when she didn't love me I want to curl up and die! Do you have any suggestions on what to do?
/Jealous?

Dear Jealous,
GET OVER IT. Neither of you can change the past, and the only thing that'll come from you making a big deal out of those wasted years is the end of a good thing. And then you'll REALLY feel bad, won't you?
Sirius

Residence of Sirius Black and James Potter
23 August 1984
6.42 pm

"She was supposed to be here at seven, yeah?" James asks, not for the first time. He glances nervously at the clock.

"Yes," confirms Sirius, trying not to look amused. "It's still a quarter-to, love."

James mutters something, brushing away something non-existant from the dinner table.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," replies James as he straightens out the silverware.

Smiling slightly, Sirius watches him for a moment. "Maybe we should go wait in the living room," he suggests.

"Maybe," James agrees. "You did clean up in there, yeah?"

"For the fifth time, yes, I did," says Sirius, rolling his eyes slightly. "There are no beer bottles, takeaway boxes, old jumpers or dirty socks anywhere. It even smells nice."

"Good." James pauses, then leans over to brush Sirius's hair out of his eyes.

Sirius raises an eyebrow. "... love?"

"Hm?"

"She's really not scary at all, you know."

"I know," James says, not sounding very convincing. He's still prodding at Sirius's fringe.

"And she sees my hair like this every day."

"Uh-huh."

"James, really," Sirius sighs, reaching up to catch James's hand. "Stop fussing."

".... I've turned into my mother, haven't I?"

Sirius shakes his head. "Oh, no, of course not — your hair hasn't turned white yet."

James chuckles.

"C'mon," says Sirius, tugging the other man out of the kitchen.

"It's just," James begins, trailing behind him, "I've never had a boss, y'know?"

"Yes, you're very lucky," Sirius smiles. "Though, honestly, I'd rather have Thora than that coach of yours."

"You only say that 'cause you can't handle the pushups."

Sirius makes a derisive noise.

James glances at the grandfather clock, frowning.

"James, please, relax."

"Easy for you to say," James mumbles, sinking onto the sofa. "Why are we doing this again?"

"To make it up to Thora for her patience with all those you questions last week," replies Sirius, in the tone of one who has said this several times already.

"Isn't she the one who decides which ones you answer?"

"No, I do that. She just tells me when I've picked one we can't run."

James looks amused. "Like what?"

Sirius grins. "Like the one from a reader talking about how phenomenal she thought you must be in bed."

"Ah, a Seer!"

"She said you probably liked to get bossed around," Sirius says flatly, his grin getting wider.

James lets out a loud chuckle. "Maybe not, then."

Sirius laughs, just as a knock comes from the front door. James yelps.

"I'll get that, shall I," mumbles Sirius, still grinning.

Standing up, James starts fussing with the sofa cushions.

Sirius moves to the front door, opening it just as the woman on the other side is raising her hand to knock again. "Hello, Thora," he greets her cheerfully.

"Hello, Black," she replies, smiling. "That was rather prompt of you."

"James was afraid you'd be late," Sirius says, stepping aside to let her pass him, then closing the door behind her.

"Hello," James says, coming up just behind Sirius. "May I take your coat?"

"Thank you." Slipping out of her ivory jacket, Thora passes it to him. "It's a pleasure to see you when you're not being dragged out of my building, Mr Potter."

"Likewise, Ms Gale," replies James, taking her jacket and offering his hand.

"Thora, please," she says, smiling up at him. "I feel as if I already know you, after all."

Sirius coughs loudly.

James returns her smile. "Please, do come inside. Si, why don't you get her something to drink?"

Sirius straightens, trying to look innocent despite the mirthful flicker in his eyes. "Of course. What would you like, Thora — Water? Wine? A beer?"

"Water will be fine, thank you," Thora says firmly, and Sirius half-salutes as he heads off to the kitchen.

"Dinner's not quite ready yet," James explains as he returns from his coat run. "Would you like to step into the sitting room?"

"That would be lovely." Smiling, Thora adds, "Sirius tells me that you two have the most comfortable couch on the face of all Wizarding Earth."

James chuckles. "I think he might be exaggerating just a bit. That couch is his baby."

"I do rather get that impression," she agrees, chuckling as well as she follows him into the living room. "He talks about it almost as much as he does that motorcycle. Though, he's never shown any pictures of it around the office."

"... he has pictures of his bike in the office?"

Thora gives him a rather amused, faintly disbelieving look. "Don't tell me you're surprised."

"I guess I shouldn't be," James agrees, shaking his head a bit.

"Probably not, though I think his favourite's the one that has the motorcycle and you." Thora smiles, shaking her head a bit. "Is this the famous couch, then?"

"It is," James nods, looking curious now. "What picture, exactly?"

"It looks quite ordinary, after all Sirius's bragging. Rather anti-climactic, I must say," she announces, sitting down at one end of the white couch. Once seated, she turns back to James and says, "The one with you and Mathilda-whatsits."

"Ermyntrude," adds James. "The one where I look really awkward, you mean?"

Thora nods. "That's the one."

Sirius enters the room, a glass of ice water in one hand and a beer in the other. "You, er, might want to check on your kitchen, James."

Eyes widening, James dashes off.

"I think something might be burning," Sirius explains to Thora, passing her the water glass as he takes a seat at the other end of the couch.

"Everything's under control!" James shouts out.

"I guess it isn't," says Thora, smiling and sipping her water. "Your couch is rather comfortable, Black."

Sirius beams proudly. "Told you."

James's head pokes out from the kitchen. "Er, dinner's ready."

"Excellent," says Sirius, looking delighted, as he stands. To Thora, he says, "It smelled delicious earlier."

"I'm guessing you didn't cook."

"I didn't think scrambled eggs and bacon was appropriate," replies James, holding the kitchen door open for them and winking at Sirius.

"Oi, I can cook," protests Sirius without heat. He's grinning a bit.

Thora looks amused. "Please, Black, I've seen every one of your columns; I know what's what."

"No, really, he can," James adds, as he holds out a chair for Thora. "Plain spaghetti with ketchup is food, right?"

"You're not doing me any favours, love," mutters Sirius, sitting down himself.

Thora pretends not to have heard him. "I don't know that I'd consider it food, necessarily," she muses. "Possibly edible, though."

Chuckling again, James sits down next to Thora. "Good thing he has me, eh?"

She nods. "An immeasurably good thing, I would say."

"You'd think that, as my editor, you'd be on my side, Thora," declares Sirius, rather loudly.

"Shush," James grins at him, pouring them each a glass of wine.

"Thank you," says Thora, as Sirius peers dubiously at the pot of stew in the center of the table and suspiciously asks, "What did you put in it, love?"

"It's Beef Bourguignon, Si," James replies, looking rather amused. "I told you."

"I think I was distracted," Sirius mutters, before offering some of the stew to Thora.

The tips of James's ears colour slightly.

"Something actually distracted you from food?" asks Thora, obviously surprised.

"It happens," mutters James. "Pass me the rice, Si?"

Sirius picks up the rice and passes it to James with his left hand, while serving himself stew with his right.

Thora still looks surprised. "I didn't think anything could distract him from food. I mean, this is the man who insists he actually needs a two-hour lunch."

"Um, well, he's, er, not quite that one-track-minded," James mumbles. "Rice?"

"I am too," Sirius counters with a smirk.

"Thank you," Thora says to James, while glancing curiously at Sirius.

"Si," James warns. "We're eating."

Sirius shrugs unrepentantly. "I could probably do both."

"... all right, what are you talking about?"

James flushes further. Sirius just looks smug.

Thora eyes them both.

"Nothing, nothing," says Sirius, after a moment. "Just, uh... nothing."

"Nothing," James adds. "Would you like some salad?"

Thora still looks curious. "Ah, yes, please."

"Trust me, you don't want to know," James mutters as he passes her the salad bowl. "Si needs some more training on how to behave in public."

"This is not public," interjects Sirius, almost indignantly. "This is your kitchen."

James chuckles.

"And she," Sirius adds, pointing his fork — carrot on the tines and all — at Thora, "is used to me."

"Is she used to you discussing your s—"

"D'you really want to say it, love?" Sirius interrupts, raising his eyebrows.

"Please, she's got to have figured it out by now," replies James, throwing a quick sideways glance at Thora.

She's smiling at them. "... are all of your dinner table conversations like this?"

"No," Sirius replies, de-carroting his fork. "Most of 'em are worse."

"At least he's wearing trousers for this one," adds James.

"Oh?" Thora leans forward, just a bit — then tries to cover the motion by belatedly reaching for her wine glass. "Er, do you, um, often let him eat without trousers on?"

"I think you overestimate the kind of control I have over him, really.."

Sirius snickers. "Or else she's just applying it to the wrong aspect of our lives."

"Si!"

"Oh." Taking in James's now thoroughly red face, Thora's eye widen. "Oh."

"Your poker face is abysmal," announces Sirius.

"And this is not awkward at all," mumbles James.

"I, um, was not expecting quite... that much information," Thora mutters.

Sirius glances between the other two at the table, then turns his attention to his plate. "This stew thing is actually as tasty as it smells."

"Thank you," James says, sounding very thankful at the change of subject.

"The rice is also delicious," Thora says quickly.

"Er, yes, thank you," replies James, sounding slightly confused. "So, Ms Gale — Thora."

"Yes, James?"

"What's it like, being Sirius's boss?"

Thora actually stops eating for a moment to consider this. Eventually, she declares, "Exhausting."

"I am still here," Sirius says, though he looks amused.

"Just how many crazy letters does he get?"

"At least a couple hundred every day, and at least half of them are so utterly ludicrous it's almost frightening."

James grins. "And borderline pornographic, or so I hear."

Thora rolls her eyes. "What do you mean, borderline?"

"... do I want to know?"

"No," says Sirius, shaking his head quickly. "No, you do not."

"Hey, as long as you keep the marriage proposals to a minimum," says James, still grinning.

Sirius perks up slightly. "Oh, did I tell you, I got almost none of those last week?"

"Almost?!"

"There's a middle-aged woman in Kent who has been sending in a proposal every Tuesday since Sirius's column began," explains Thora, chuckling a bit.

".... really," says James, raising an eyebrow. "Does she not get that you're taken, Si?"

Sirius shrugs. "Oh, she's taken, as well. Married, actually."

"And her husband doesn't mind?"

Thora laughs. "He proposes sometimes, too."

"Oi!" James exclaims.

"I try not to think what their home life must be like," says Sirius.

"As long as they know they can't have you," mutters James.

"Don't worry," Sirius assures him, reaching across the table to pat his hand, "I always say 'no'."

"I should bloody well hope so!"

"He gets marriage proposals for you, too," Thora declares. She smiles. "He says 'no' to those, as well."

"Really, now?"

Thora nods. "Very snippy he is about it, too."

James grins at Sirius.

Sirius sticks out his tongue.

"And Sirius is always very mature about it," adds Thora dryly.

"I'm sure he is," James replies, eyes fixed on Sirius's mouth.

"I don't know why people still seem to think I'll be nice to them if they write in and talk about wanting my best mate," Sirius is saying, his voice very prim.

"Best mate?"

"Well, the boyfriend part was something of a secret until recently..."

"... Si?" James says, still staring at his lips.

Sirius trails off and arches an eyebrow. "... yes, love?"

"Please stop distracting me from my dinner."

"...what?"

James's eyes dart between Sirius's lips and his eyes.

"...oh." Sirius smirks. "Well. Can't help that, can I?"

"You two really do communicate through some secret language unintelligible to us mortals," mutters Thora.

"My apologies," says James, finally tearing his eyes away. "How is everything?"

"It's all delicious, thank you," she replies. "Just as Sirius promised it would be."

"Did he now," James asks, sounding rather amused. "What have I told you about bragging, Si?"

"Er... only to do it about you?"

".... not that bit."

Sirius feigns a thoughtful frown. "There was another bit?"

"Yes," James nods. "Don't do it."

"Oh." Sirius pauses. "I thought you meant not to you."

"This is what happens when parents don't raise their children properly," James said, facing Thora and shaking his head sadly.

Thora raises her eyebrows, her lips twitching slightly. "I thought your parents were the ones who finished raising him."

"Oh, the damage was done by then," says Sirius hurriedly, a solemn look on his face.

"Yes," agrees James. "Besides, teaching humility was never my parents' strong suit."

Thora's lip-twitching increases. "Indeed."

"I don't reckon she needs to be told that," Sirius remarks teasingly. He smirks. "I don't reckon anyone needs to be told that."

"I'm sure I've no idea what you're on about."

Sirius looks even smirkier. "You wouldn't."

"You know, I can't help but wonder..." murmurs Thora, openly smiling now.

"Yes?" asks James, looking slightly apprehensive.

Thora leans forward a bit and contrives to look serious. "Which one of you two does have the higher opinion of you, James?"

Sirius chokes on his wine.

"Um."

Thora raises her eyebrows expectantly.

"Er, that's not a very safe question, is it?" asks Sirius.

"Sirius does," James says, almost simultaneously.

Thora does not look particularly surprised.

"Oi!" Sirius glares half-heartedly at James, the faintest suggestion of pink on his cheeks. "You shouldn't say things like that to people who I've told all about your ego."

"I do not have a big ego!"

"Well. You used to."

James pouts.

"I mean, just ask Lily."

"What's she's got to do with anything?!"

"Well, you do remember why she turned you down, right?"

James winces.

Sirius pats his hand again. "Not that she was entirely right, of course."

"I thought we'd decided not to talk about that ever again."

"Did we?"

Thora is grinning openly. "They really should put the pair of you on the Wireless."

James raises his eyebrows, before grinning widely at her.

"I know Adelaide and I, at least, would never miss it!"

"What d'you think, Si?" James asks, still grinning like a fool.

Sirius smirks right back at him. "C'mon, you know how much fun I had the last time they put me on there..."

James goes a little glassy-eyed.

"See? It'd be fun." Sirius turns to Thora. "So, shall we start a campaign, Thora?"

Thora raises her eyebrows. "Are you prepared for Adelaide to petition everyone in the office?"

"I think she's started that already, actually."

"... just what goes on at that place you work at?!"

"We sit around at desks all day, love," says Sirius, grinning at James. "We've got to have some way of entertaining ourselves."

"Here I thought your way was to send yourself stupid questions," James replies.

"... I have never done that!"

Thora nods. "He gets Hubert Brenham from the next desk to do it for him," she says matter-of-factly.

"Oi!"

"I knew it!" James exclaims, looking positively gleeful.

Sirius glares at Thora, who smiles rather smugly. "A secret, was that?" she asks.

"This is a conspiracy," Sirius grumbles.

"This was your idea, you know."

"It was my idea to be nice, not to set my boss and my boyfriend against me."

"Like I could ever be against you," mumbles James.

Sirius smiles, his expression melting a bit. "You're against me every night," he says after a moment. "And most mornings, too."

"Si," James protests, rather half-heartedly.

"Thora doesn't mind," Sirius insists defensively. "Do you, Thora?"

"... all of your conversations really are like this, aren't they?"

James glances at Sirius.

Sirius grins.

Friday, 24 August 1984

Dear Sirius,
Is it true that James Potter has a sordid past with Montrose Magpies Keeper Oscar Egan? According to sources they were an item for years. Any juicy details?
/R.S.

Dear Rita,
You just don't give up, do you? Your sources are absolute rubbish, because none of that's the least bit true. The only anyone male and Quidditch-related that James has a sordid past with is me.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you know the way to Narnia? I've been reading the information pamphlets and reckon it seems a nice place to go, but I'm having no luck whatsoever finding a Portkey that takes me there. Do you think this is because it's more of a Muggle resort? It seems rather magical to me, but it's more well known amongst Muggles. Any advice would be appreciated!
/Felice

Dear Felice,
Actually, dear, I'm fairly positive that Narnia is a fantasy land, and does not actually exist anywhere in the real world. Those information pamphlets you mentioned are, in fact, works of Muggle fiction.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I used to have a dog his name was Bobo. Last year my mum and dad said Bobo went to live in a farm but I have checked all the farms near our house and he is not there. Where did he really go?
/Adam

Dear Adam,
Aw, poor fellow! I know how sad I'd be if my dog went to live on a farm... probably Bobo has gone to live in the great big dog run in the sky. I'm sure he's happy there — they have squirrels for him to chase.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I have a problem. See, I'm sort of having an affair with my best friend... and his girlfriend. None of them know that the other one is cheating on them. It's a bit of a sticky situation and I don't think it's good for my blood pressure. What should I do?
/Emma

Dear Emma,
Man, you sure known how to enjoy yourself, don't you? Here's what I'd do if I were in your position: I would arrange with each of them (separately, of course) to meet you at a certain time for the naughty things that you do with each other... and then when they both show you say "Surprise!" and "Anyone for a threesome?" and hope neither of them kills you.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I am in my late 50s and dating a woman in her early 30s. Problem is my three children are aged 37, 34 and 29. I have no idea how to tell them about her. What should I do?
/Bruce

Dear Bruce,
"Everyone, this is my girlfriend, [insert name here]. She makes me feel young."
Sirius

Dear Sirius (48/52)

Wed, 27 May 2009 21:18:23 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius (part 48/52)
Author: duva & fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: Humor/Romance
Chapter Word Count: ~2650
Status: Complete
Chapter Rating: PG-13/T, for innuendo, language, and objectionable content, like Sirius's ideas about lawnmowers.
Spoilers: Uh, not really. It's so ridiculously AU that it kinda becomes almost completely unspoilerific.
Pairing: James/Sirius
Warnings: AU. Language, innuendo.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Summary: Thrice weekly in the Evening Prophet's entertainment section, Sirius Black answers all your questions, from the mundane to the complicated to the just plain weird.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine A, Chapter Nine B, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine, Chapter Thirty, Chapter Thirty-One, Chapter Thirty-Two, Chapter Thirty-Three, Chapter Thirty-Four, Chapter Thirty-Five, Chapter Thirty-Six, Chapter Thirty-Seven, Chapter Thirty-Eight, Chapter Thirty-Nine, Chapter Forty, Chapter Forty-One, Chapter Forty-Two, Chapter Forty-Three, Chapter Forty-Four, Chapter Forty-Five, Chapter Forty-Six, Chapter Forty-Seven
Notes: Most of the important backstory for this — where it differs from canon, anyway — can be found in the newspaper collage at the beginning of the first chapter, but if you're still confused about something, please ask. If you missed any chapters, just follow the above links to get caught up. Remember to comment if you enjoyed this, and if you have any questions for Sirius!

Dearest readers/reviewers – we will reply to your comments ASAP. We're very sorry for being so lax. Which, incidentally, is the Swedish word for salmon. Are you writing this down, fictionalcandie?

Monday, 13 August 1984

Dear Sirius,
Why do people carry umbrellas? This is really confusing me. Please respond.
/Ann

Dear Ann,
I'm not sure. I've never carried an umbrella in my life. I think they're used by hydrophobic people. I did hear once that they were fashion statements, but really, if you're going to carry a pointy non-wand thing, why not a sword?
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
What is your favourite sound? What about your least favourite?
/Mina

Dear Mina,
Favourite: James making, er, sex noises.
Least favourite: James making "Sirius you are a stupidhead" noises.
No, really, I hate the sound of styrofoam against cardboard; it makes my skin crawl.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Is it weird for a bloke to use lipstick?
/Arnie

Dear Annie,
What, you mean on himself? Yes, a bit. At least, if he's not completely in drag...
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you think one should ever forgive an abusive spouse? My head is saying no, but the heart...
/Bettina

Dear Betty,
That really depends on your situation, and on how sincerely you believe that your spouse has repented and there will be no repeats of the abuse. But I know that I would never forgive an abusive anything. Abuse, after all, is a betrayal of trust — and I do not respond well to betrayal.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I was called into my boss' office last week, and told that I'm up for a brilliant promotion – less hours, better pay, an additional week of holiday etc – but there is a catch: I have to perform, er, services for him. What do you think I should say to that? I'm single, so that's not a problem, but he's married with young children and I just don't fancy him at all... but on the other hand, the promotion is everything I've dreamed of. What would you do in this situation?
/Mellie

Dear Mellie,
Tell his wife.
Sirius

The Evening Prophet Offices
London, England
14 August 1984
12.43 pm

Sitting at his desk, Sirius is sorting a large stack of papers into several piles, making hmm-ing noises every so often. After reading one of the pieces of paper, he snorts and tosses it toward a wire waste bin — narrowly missing the slender woman approaching his desk.

"Careful," she says, smiling and setting a large paper cup down in front of him, between the piles of papers. "Wouldn't want to spill your mocha, Black."

"With a wad of paper?" he scoffs, setting down his stack and reaching for the cup. "Thanks, Adelaide."

"You're welcome." She turns to go, pausing to shoot back over her shoulder. "Oh, and you've a visitor on their way up."

Sirius looks confused a moment, before beaming at her retreating back. "Thanks!" he calls, getting a backward wave, and then returns to his paper sorting, bouncing a bit.

A few moments later, a sharp click-click-click noise echoes through the room, followed by a rather shrill "Mr Black!"

Sirius turns, his pleasantly expectant expression turning quickly to one of irritated surprise. "Skeeter?"

"So nice to see you," Rita says, sitting down in the chair in front of his desk. "You look... content."

"This is a surprise," says Sirius, not bothering to reply to her obviously leading statement.

"Did you not get my memo?" Rita asks, drumming her nails on his desk. "I thought we ought to have a little chat."

Sirius frowns at her. "What could we possibly have to talk about this time?"

"Oh, come now," Rita says, laughing a little. "You're in the news."

"... Nope, still not coming up with anything for us to talk about."

"Really?" askes Rita. "Even though you've finally come out about your... sordid relationship with James Potter?"

"It is not sordid," Sirius growls.

Rita waves an impatient hand. "Secret, then. Clandestine."

Reaching for his mocha cup, Sirius hides his mouth behind it, muttering, "Do you know any words that aren't dirty?"

Rita ignores him. "I was thinking a four-page spread," she says. "Interview, and pictures... maybe taken in your house..."

"In our house—" Sirius sputters, very nearly spraying her with mocha. Hurriedly, he puts the cup down and demands, "Where do you get these ideas?"

"It'd be lovely," Rita continues. "Very sweet. Free advertising for the both of you."

Sirius stares. "Why would we need advertising?"

"Oh, it's the Quidditch off-season," Rita says. "People forget so quickly."

"Tell that to the people who ask for autographs while James is having lunch," snaps Sirius. "Or who stop me in the grocery store."

"How nice," Rita says, with a tight smile. "To promote the cause, then."

Sirius gives her his you're-bloody-crazy look. "We're not promoting anything."

"Are you quite sure?"

"I'm quite sure I'm not going to do anything that you think is a good idea!"

Rita looks quite put out.

"Besides," adds Sirius, with a bit of a sneer, "I don't see how commercialising my relationship with James would be promoting werewolf rights or anti-Muggleborn discrimination."

"Well, of course not!" Rita exclaims. "No one wants to read about that."

Sirius scowls. "A pity, then, since those are my only 'causes'."

Rita raises an eyebrow. "I see."

Sirius grits his teeth, audibly. "I'm sure you don't, actually, but whatever."

"I would have expected you to be more... loyal to your own, I suppose."

"Excuse me?"

Rita gives him a small smile. "You know, be an inspiration to all of the angst-ridden closeted teenagers out there, and whatnot."

Sirius glares at her, too full of seething incredulity to say anything.

"Think about it."

"You really think you can convince me to an interview with arguments like that?" Sirius shakes his head disdainfully. "You don't know anything about angst-ridden closeted teenagers."

"As opposed to you?" Rita says, leaning closer to him.

Sirius opens his mouth to reply, but snaps it closed at the last moment and just glares.

"You know, you look a bit tense," Rita remarks. "Is this a happy relationship?"

"... What could my being tense right now possibly have to do with my relationship with James?"

"Talking about it is obviously a stress factor for you."

"Talking to you is a stress factor!"

Rita completely ignores him. "How has your family taken this piece of news, then?"

"The ones by blood or by choice?"

Rita suddenly looks twice as interested. "Oooh, is this the reason you —"

"... Si?"

At the sound of the new voice, Sirius whirls around in his chair, looking just a bit deranged.

"Er." James pauses in the doorway. "I thought we said 1 o'clock."

"Is it 1 already?" asks Sirius, sounding hopeful.

"Four to one," Rita says quickly, standing up. "Mr Potter, what a pleasant surprise."

"Er," James says again.

Sirius glances back at the reporter and scowls some more. "You remember Skeeter, don't you, James?"

"Pleasure," says Rita, extending a hand towards him.

James shakes it, staring rather stupidly at her.

Sirius growls softly. "Skeeter," he says icily, "had some delusions— I mean, questions for me."

"About you, actually," says Rita, grinning squarely at him. "Would you mind talking to me, James? I can call you James, right?"

"Er," James says again.

"Mr Potter will suffice," interjects Sirius, rather sharply.

"Now, Sirius, don't be snappy," Rita says, turning to peer at him over the rims of her glasses. "We're colleagues, after all."

"Fun thing, I was thinking about moving into a new line of work," Sirius deadpans.

Rita lets out a loud, obviously fake laugh. "Has he always been this funny, James?"

"You know, James, we should get going," Sirius announces, cutting off whatever response James might have been about to make.

"Oh, where are we off to?" asks Rita, standing up.

Sirius stares at her with something like an extremely strong version of disbelief. "James and I have a lunch date," he says, after a moment.

Rita blinks at him, then turns to James. "You don't mind if I come along, do you?"

James gapes at her. "Actually," he says, finding his voice at last, "I do."

Sirius growls again. "And even if he didn't, I do."

Pausing only slightly, Rita smiles at the both of them again. "Of course. Romantic lunch for two, eh?"

"Yes," Sirius says succinctly, getting up and moving next to James, gripping his hand rather unnecessarily hard.

"How about we just schedule that at-home interview, then?"

Jaw cracking audibly, Sirius's hand tightens on James's.

".... at-home what?" James asks, directing the question to Sirius rather than Rita. "Ow."

"She wants to come to our house," Sirius explains, through gritted teeth. He loosens his grip, slightly.

"Oh," James says, turning to look at Rita again. "No."

Rita blinks at the both of them.

"I am not a circus attraction," James announces, "and neither is Sirius."

Sirius gives James a very grateful, rather adoring look. "She thinks we ought to be an example for angst-ridden closeted teenagers," he adds, a bite to his voice.

"Oh," James says, frowning deeply. "Well, can't help you. Never was one of those."

Sirius's fingers tighten again, involuntarily. "See?" he snaps at Rita. "You're out of luck."

Rita smiles again, a bit weaker this time. "Maybe just a quick chat, then?"

"We already had a quick chat," replies Sirius, still snapping. "And now my boyfriend and I are going to go have a quick lunch."

"But —"

"Good day, miss Skeeter," James says, pulling at Sirius's hand.

"Good bye," Sirius says, passing James and tugging him down the hall.

"Can we reschedule?" Rita calls after them.

"No," Sirius replies as he walks away from her, not stopping until he nearly runs into the woman who brought him his mocha earlier. "Adelaide," he growls. "There is a... woman at my desk."

"Hello," James adds. "How do you do?"

Adelaide blinks at him, glancing between the two men. "Er, I'm good, you must be Sirius's—"

"The woman at my desk," Sirius repeats, more loudly. "Make sure she leaves, would you, please?"

"All right..." Adelaide replies, clearly a bit confused. "And you're, er—?"

"Going out to lunch," James offers, sticking out his hand. "James."

"I figured," she says, shaking his hand. "Sirius doesn't usually drag men around by the hand, you know."

"I should hope not," James says, shooting Sirius an amused sideways glance.

Adelaide gives them a small smile. "So, Black, this woman I'm supposed to evict...?"

"Probably a mocha-thief," Sirius replies quickly. "But we're late for lunch."

"Nice meeting you," James adds, pulling at Sirius's hand again. "Addie, yeah?"

Adelaide nods, watching Sirius let himself be led away. "Nice meeting you, too, Mr Potter."

Having finally escaped the office, James lets out a breath. "Every day like this?"

"No." Sirius sighs, taking a deep breath. "Normally there's less bwitch and more mocha-drinking."

James snickers.

Sirius takes another deep breath and lets it out in a sigh. "C'mon, love," he murmurs, mustering a smile. "Let's go to lunch, and I'll try to lure you back to the house for some hot, steamy mid-afternoon sex."

"That's an exclusive I won't turn down," replies James, grinning.

Sirius beams. "You never do."

"Don't get cocky."

"... but that's the point of going home right now."

"Shut up," James laughs.

"C'mon."

Still grinning, James does as he says.

Wednesday, 15 August

Dear Sirius,
I have a problem, and you seem like the best person to ask, so here we go. I am 18 and in my very first relationship with another guy. We've been together about a month but we've yet to be intimate. At least part of the reason for this is that I'm really concerned about... well, size. What if I'm a lot smaller and he laughs at me?! Or the other way around, and he feels totally inadequate? Am I being surpremely silly, here? If so, how do I get over these fears?
/Jacob

Dear Jake,
Don't worry, he won't laugh at you. At least, I should hope he wouldn't, and if he does, well, that's another matter entirely, and one which has nothing to do with relative sizes and everything to do with respect and affection and things of that nature. I would recommend mentioning these concerns to your boyfriend, and seeing if he can't set them at ease. If that doesn't work for you, well — there's always Firewhiskey to numb the edges of those fear.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Would you go bleach blonde for a hundred galleons?
/Sabrina

Dear Sabrina,
I wouldn't go bleach blonde for a thousand galleons.
Sirius

PS: Now ask me about auburn.

Dear Sirius,
Is it completely wrong to have a favourite child? I know I shouldn't, it's just that my middle daughter is so much... nicer than the other two. What do you recommend?
/Leesha

Dear Leesha,
Feeling really guilty. And not ever letting any of them know you feel that way. Trust me, it would NOT make the other two any nicer.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Why do men turn into such BABIES when they are sick?! Is this true for you, too? And James? What do you two do if you're BOTH sick at the same time?
/Fed up

Dear Fed up,
There is really no safe answer to any of those questions, except the last one, which is really quite simple. We call Not-Mum.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
What on earth is a lawnmower and what it is used for? Is it something vicious?
/Steve

Dear Steve,
I think it's a mechanical cross between a goat and a machete. James and I have one, but I don't really understand how it works — only that it cuts the grass.
Sirius

Friday, 17 August 1984

Dear Sirius,
My best mate recently told me that he loves me and I'm sort of weirded out. I don't think he meant in a romantic way, but, well, it's not really something blokes say to each other... is it?
/Adam

Dear Adam,
... And just why can't blokes say it to each other if they want to, especially in a non-romantic sense? Last time I checked, men were just as capable of loving people as women.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Have you ever been in love?
/Esther

Dear Esther,
Once. Since forever. Still am, don't intend to ever stop.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
When do you think it's appropriate to introduce your children to your new partner? My ex-wife and I divorced about six months ago, and now I'm seeing someone new. My children are aged 13, 11 and 8, and I'd really like for them to meet my girlfriend. I've been seeing her for about two months. Do you think this is a long enough time, or should I wait a little longer?
/Dirk

Dear Dirk,
If it had been longer since your split from your ex-wife, I would say that two months is probably fine — provided you do the thing right and are gradual and non-forceful about it — but a parents' divorce has got to be a hard time for kids of any age, and six months really isn't that long to come to terms with such a drastic change. I'd wait a few more months. Unless your children start expressing interest; that's a different thing entirely.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I'm about to start my fifth year at Hogwarts and I can't decide which subjects to stick with. I want the ones that require the least effort. What would you recommend?
/Lazy Lee

Dear Leezy,
Divination is a breeze, or so I hear, as long as your imagination doesn't mind running wild a bit. I don't know what else I'd necessarily recommend — just do NOT take Arithmancy or Ancient Runes because they actually require that you do WORK, even if you're stunningly brilliant(ly attractive), as I am. Additionally, Care of Magical Creatures is all right, as long as you don't mind losing a fingertip or two.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
as an oracle of Muggle fashion, I ask you: red jeans, yay or nay?
/Joe

Dear Joe,
No.
Sirius

Dear Sirius (47/52)

Wed, 20 May 2009 20:05:27 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius (part 47/52)
Author: duva & fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: Humor/Romance
Chapter Word Count: ~3330
Status: Complete
Chapter Rating: PG-13/T, for innuendo, language, and objectionable content, like Sirius's ability to talk about nothing but James.
Spoilers: Uh, not really. It's so ridiculously AU that it kinda becomes almost completely unspoilerific.
Pairing: James/Sirius
Warnings: AU. Language, innuendo.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Summary: Thrice weekly in the Evening Prophet's entertainment section, Sirius Black answers all your questions, from the mundane to the complicated to the just plain weird.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine A, Chapter Nine B, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine, Chapter Thirty, Chapter Thirty-One, Chapter Thirty-Two, Chapter Thirty-Three, Chapter Thirty-Four, Chapter Thirty-Five, Chapter Thirty-Six, Chapter Thirty-Seven, Chapter Thirty-Eight, Chapter Thirty-Nine, Chapter Forty, Chapter Forty-One, Chapter Forty-Two, Chapter Forty-Three, Chapter Forty-Four, Chapter Forty-Five, Chapter Forty-Six
Notes: Most of the important backstory for this — where it differs from canon, anyway — can be found in the newspaper collage at the beginning of the first chapter, but if you're still confused about something, please ask. If you missed any chapters, just follow the above links to get caught up. Remember to comment if you enjoyed this, and if you have any questions for Sirius!

Monday, 6 August 1984

Dear Sirius,
Hahahahhahah that was a brilliant prank! Who came up with it, you or James?
/Spyke

Dear Spyke,
Assuming you're referring to the feature the Prophet ran this weekend, regarding my relationship with James, it wasn't a prank.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I'm so happy for you!! Are you getting married? Do you think you will have babies?
/Alanna

Dear Alanna,
Thank you! We're very happy for us, too. Marriage and babies are not in our plans for the immediate future, thought.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Are you aware of the consequences this might have? Did you stop to think before preening your abnormalities around in front of the whole country? Have you thought about what signals this could send to our already troubled youths?
/Concerned parent

Dear Parent,
Consequences? Signals? What, such as, I don't know, making our "troubled youths" think it's all right to be themselves and love whoever they want to? I'm sorry, but I don't think that's a bad thing.
Sirius

PS: There is nothing abnormal about James, thank you very much. Except for his mad Quidditch skills, of course, but I don't think you were talking about those.

Dear Sirius,
I KNEW IT! Why didn't you tell us sooner?
/Gabby

Dear Gabby,
Well, we were kind of enjoying keeping it to ourselves. In our own little world, so to speak. But congratulations on being right!
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Is James Potter realy queer? I did not think any Quidittch players are.
/Alun

Dear Alun,
If he isn't, he hides it really well. And I don't see what being a Quidditch player has to do with being queer. Last time I checked, they were neither connected nor mutually exclusive.
Sirius

Residence of Sirius Black and James Potter
6 August 1984
5.42 pm

Sitting on the sofa in his living room, Sirius tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes at the television, where something large, multi-coloured and flashy is taking up the screen. "No," he mumbles to himself after a moment, "that doesn't help."

Un-tilting his head, he leans forward and to the side. "... no, that doesn't, either."

"What're you watching?" asks James, walking in through the porch door. "Looks weird."

"Hang on." Sirius, twisting around so that his head is practically upside down, says, "... no, that's no help."

"... you look like an owl."

Sirius ignores him. He straightens up and settles back against the couch. "You know, I have no idea what this is supposed to be."

"Turn it off, then," James says, jumping over the back of the sofa and landing next to him.

"I'm trying to figure it out," explains Sirius, frowning slightly at the television set. "This barmy woman came on and announced that there was going to be 'a message from their sponsors' and the next thing I know there was this... this technicolour explosion all over my telly."

"Probably for drugs," mumbles James, leaning into Sirius. "Turn it off."

Sirius shakes his head, still frowning. "But this is my infomercial channel. They're entirely a message from their sponsors."

"Very odd," James agrees, snaking an arm around Sirius's shoulders. "Turn it off."

"Once I figure it out," says Sirius.

"Or now," says James, turning to nuzzle Sirius's neck.

"Oh." Sirius blinks, one of the hands in his lap flexing a little and moving over to rest on James's thigh. Then, he frowns at the screen again. "But then I wouldn't know."

"Does it matter?"

"I... like knowing?"

"Si," James says, as he trails his lips up the other man's neck, stopping to nip on his earlobe, "Turn it off."

Sirius's fingers tighten on James's thigh. "Er."

"C'mon."

"But—"

"But," James interrupts, bringing his free hand up to Sirius's cheek. "It's not important," he says as he turns Sirius's face away from the TV and towards his own. "Is it?"

Staring, Sirius licks his lips. "Uh, no. No, it is not."

Grinning, James leans in to kiss him.

Lifting the hand not on James's leg, Sirius tangles it in the other man's hair, pulling him closer and immediately deepening the kiss. With a small, satisfied noise, James uses his wand to turn off the TV.

"You smell like grass," Sirius mutters, into James's mouth, shifting his hand higher up James's leg.

"Sorry," James mumbles back.

A rather loud thump comes from somewhere in the room.

Sirius pulls his head away slightly. "Did you hear that?"

"Hmm," James mumbles, shifting slightly to attach his lips to Sirius's neck instead.

"Guess not," gasps Sirius, tilting his head to give James more room and moaning softly.

A faint 'pop' noise comes from outside, followed by rapid footsteps and even more rapid knocking on the front door.

Sirius doesn't seem to notice. "Mm, love—" he starts, before a shriek from the direction of the front door interrupts him.

"Sirius ORION!"

Sirius startles, fairly leaping away from James and swiveling wide eyes around the room.

James groans, his head falling back. "Are those the dulcet tones of miss Andromeda I hear?"

"I didn't do it!" Sirius blurts, before realising that James has asked him a question. Taking a deep breath, he replies, "Yes," just as the knocking resumes.

"If you're in there, Sirius Orion, you had better open this door right now or so help me Phineas, I will—"

Sirius stares at James for a moment. "I haven't heard that tone since I was twelve and got ink all over her best dress robes," he half-whispers.

James mutters something that sounds suspiciously like it includes the words "boner shrinker".

"D'you think she'll go away if we're really quiet?" asks Sirius.

"Hah!"

"Didn't think so," Sirius sighs. Reluctantly standing up, he hollers "We're not home!"

James makes a noise that's half groan, half chuckle.

"Your voice is!" Andromeda yells back from the other side of the door, but the knocking stops.

"And your voice is angry," Sirius mutters to himself.

"Good luck?" James offers, still seated.

"You had better be on your way to the door to let me in," proclaims Andromeda, still loudly.

"I am, I am!" Sirius quick-steps the last few feet to the door and wrenches it open.

Andromeda slams a newspaper into his chest in greeting.

Sirius switches his stare back and forth between her face and the newspaper. "... Andi?"

"Hello, Sirius."

He looks even more confused by her coldness. "Hello...?"

"I read the paper," she informs him.

"Congratulations?" he tries.

"According to this," Andromeda says, shoving the paper at him again, "I should be saying that to you."

"Er..." Sirius blinks and looks uneasy. "Did it say I was getting married? Because you should know by now that I totally—"

"You know perfectly well what it says, Sirius!"

"Actually, I have no idea what it says, if it's made you ma—"

"Oh, don't start with me!" Andromeda half-shouts, storming past him and into the hall, uninvited.

Sirius turns and follows her, absently catching the newspaper before it can drop from his chest. "Okay..."

Completely ignoring James, Andromeda drops down into an armchair in the living room. "I can't believe you sometimes, you know that?" she says, still speaking very loudly.

"I haven't said anything about hippogriffs today," Sirius mumbles defensively, going back to sit next to James.

"I thought we told each other things," Andromeda continues. "I told you I was pregnant before I even told Ted!"

Sirius gives her another confused stare, for about half a second, before his eyes widen. "Oh, shit."

"Er," James says, moving to stand. "I just remembered I have to —"

Andromeda waves an impatient hand at him before turning her full attention back to Sirius. "Oh, shit?"

"Uh." Sirius quickly pulls the paper up and flips through it, eventually stopping at something and wincing. "Oops."

"Oops?"

"I..." Sirius clears his throat, still looking at the paper. "Forgot you didn't know?"

Andromeda fixes him with a stare. Sirius gulps.

"How does one forget something like that, Sirius?"

"Well, I've never exactly tried to hide it from you..."

"You didn't tell me!" Andromeda interrupts. "You told all of Britain before you told me!"

Sirius gulps again. "... you were out of the country?"

Andromeda narrows her eyes. "Are you telling me this happened within the last three weeks?"

"Telling Britain did?" he tries, weakly.

"Not helping," she advices.

Sirius grimaces. "Well, what was I supposed to say?"

Standing up, Andromeda snatches the paper from him. She flickers through it rather violently. Sirius watches her warily.

"Andi?"

"'Pride of Portree Chaser James Potter and the Evening Prophet's own Sirius Black,'" Andromeda reads, pausing to glare at him once more, "'showed up to the event together and exclusively confirmed that they are indeed an item.'"

"... so, what, you wanted 'exclusive confirmation' first?" asks Sirius, still grimacing.

"'According to an anonymous source, the relationship goes back several years,'" Andromeda continues.

"What!" shrieks Sirius, lurching off the couch to snatch the paper. "No way it says that!"

"There is a picture of you groping him!" Andromeda shoots back.

Sirius points at the picture. "That's not groping. That is snuggling. We've done that in your living room."

"Not helping!"

"You've watched us do that!"

"Sirius," Andromeda says.

Sirius sighs, deflating a bit. "... anyway, it's not years."

"Is it three weeks?"

"Er, a bit more?"

"How much more?"

"... how much more is November from three weeks ago?"

Andromeda blinks.

"The middle of November," Sirius adds, slightly less sheepish, cringe still visible on his face. "Not the beginning."

"I've seen you since November," Andromeda informs him.

"It... never came up?"

She just looks at him.

Sirius eyes her warily. "... I'm sorry?"

"Whatever."

"It's not like I was specifically trying to hide it from you," he mutters defensively.

"Whatever," Andromeda repeats. "Congratulations."

Sirius doesn't relax, at all. "You don't really sound congratulatory."

"I'm happy for you," Andromeda says. "It makes sense."

Sirius opens and closes his mouth several times. He doesn't seem to know what to say. Andromeda keeps her eyes fixed on him.

"... Does that mean you're not actually surprised?" Sirius eventually asks, a bit hesitantly.

"I'm surprised you didn't tell me," Andromeda snaps. "That sort of overshadowed any other surprise I might have felt."

Sirius cringes again. "Andi, I swear, I honestly just forgot you didn't already know."

"Oh, you were telling so many people you lost track, were you?"

"No," he says quickly. "Until... that—" he gestures toward the picture in the paper, "— we hadn't hardly told anyone."

Andromeda seems to mull this over. "Don't keep me in the dark anymore, boy."

Sirius's mouth immediately contorts into a petulant frown. "Don't call me that."

"Good," Andromeda nods.

"Good," echos Sirius. After a pause, he asks, "Did Dora read it?"

"Like I let my child near that rag," Andromeda scoffs. "No offense."

Sirius waves her off. "So, she doesn't know yet?"

"Sirius, she's ten. I doubt she cares."

He gives her a disbelieving look, complete with raised eyebrows. "We are speaking about the same child, aren't we?"

"Well, if you want to have the birds and bees talk with her..."

"No!" Sirius's expression instantly mutates to one of horror. "No, no, absolutely not, I'm good."

Andromeda snorts.

"Only," Sirius goes on hurriedly, "she was the one pestering me about kids. And getting married. And, er. Things."

"Yes, well, I don't think she's quite got the mechanics figured out, as it were."

Sirius looks relieved. "Good. You're, er, going to keep it that way, right?"

"What, forever?"

"Well, until she's thirty-five, at least?"

"... have you been talking to Ted?" Andromeda asks.

Sirius brightens slightly. "Ted thinks so too?"

One of the corners of Andromeda's mouth twitches slightly. "He keeps talking about some weird Muggle invention. Shopgun, or something."

"... A shotgun?"

"That's the one. And a rocking chair, and a porch... never mind we don't have either of those things..."

"I could build you one," Siriius offers, grinning. "After you put in the moat, I mean."

"Don't think you can deter me from being mad at you."

"Is that what I was trying to do?" he asks innocently.

Andromeda scoffs again. "You're still doing it!"

"... would it help if I groveled?"

"Don't bother," Andromeda says, standing up. "I'll get over it."

"I really am sorry, you know," Sirius avers, standing as well.

"I can tell," Andromeda says, nodding. "Can you go get James for me, please?"

"...why?"

"Because I asked you to."

"You're not going to yell at him, are you?" asks Sirius, as he starts backing out of the room.

Andromeda blinks. "Of course not."

"All right then." Sirius turns and leaves, calling James's name.

"... what?" James replies, sounding less than thrilled.

"Andi wants you!"

A few moments later, James appears in the doorway. His hand is firmly planted in his hair. Striding past Sirius, Andromeda walks up to him and engulfs him in a hug. James, looking more than a little surprised, somewhat awkwardly pats her on the back.

"Congratulations," Andromeda says, then pulls back a little. "And if you hurt him, I will hex you from here to Moscow and back, you've got that?"

"Andi," protests Sirius, looking a little exasperated, though his cheeks are pink.

"Yes, sir," James says, wide-eyed. "I mean, ma'am. Andromeda."

Sirius's face gets a shade or two pinker. "Are you done threatening my boyfriend who would never hurt me ever except possibly a very small bit if I deserved it?"

Smiling slightly, Andromeda pats James's cheek before letting him go. "Well, I'd best be off."

"To buy a shotgun for Ted?" suggests Sirius, moving to give her a hug.

"I was thinking more along the lines of a roast for dinner, but sure."

"Start small," he agrees, nodding.

Smiling fully, Andromeda embraces him. "I really am glad," she says. "And only a little angry."

"Good. I'm glad," says Sirius, dropping a kiss on her cheek. "Since you are my favourite relative, and all."

"With such stiff competition, too."

"Hey, Uncle Alphard gave me money."

"Don't push your luck," Andromeda says, releasing him. "And fix your fireplace, will you?"

"We'll work on it," Sirius says, going to hold the door open for her.

"Do stop by soon," Andromeda says as she steps outside. "Nymphadora got you a present, you know."

"Yeah? One worthy of my heir?"

"She is ten."

"I will take that as a yes," the self-appointed god of gift-giving replies loftily.

Shaking her head, Andromeda hands him the newspaper again. "You might want to keep this, actually. It is a sweet picture."

"I know," Sirius smiles, glancing down at it. "Lilith gave me a print, actually, but thank you."

Giving him one final smile, Andromeda Disapparates.

"... that went well, didn't it?"

"You weren't the one she was using her Black face on," says Sirius.

"I'm not the one who forgot to tell her," James replies, coming up behind Sirius and snaking his arms around his waist. "Smooth."

"Oi, I was the one who said we should tell your mother," Sirius retorts, twisting to shoot James a look over his shoulder. "You could have returned the favour, or something."

James shrugs, leaning forward to press a light kiss to the taller man's neck. "Your family doesn't make sense to me, you know that."

Sirius makes a noise in the back of his throat. "I thought Andi, at least, was mildly fathomable," he says, dropping the paper and turning in James's arms.

"When she gets cross she looks freakishly like her sister, though."

"You don't need to tell me that."

"Poor darling," James mumbles, one hand coming up to stroke through Sirius's hair.

Leaning into the caress, Sirius lifts a brow, looking torn between pleasure and amusement. "... I thought you weren't being sympathetic in this case."

"I figure being nice to you is more likely to get me laid."

"Mm. So is throwing 'darling's around," nods Sirius.

"... shut up and kiss me," James mutters. The tips of his ears have gone bright red.

Smirking and muttering "We were in the middle of something, anyway," Sirius lifts a hand to James's hair and leans in.

Wednesday, 8 August 1984

Dear Sirius,
What is everyone asking you about? Did I miss something?
/Elexa

Dear Elexa,
I guess you must have. Over the weekend, the Prophet ran a feature on me and my boyfriend, James Potter, after I attended this year's Quidditch annual with him.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I'm confused. Haven't you had girlfriends in the past? Then how can you be gay now? I don't mean to be rude, I just don't understand.
/Perry aged 13

Dear Perry,
Don't worry, that's not rudeness, that's curiosity. I can be gay now — as you put it — because I've always liked... er... a man, as well as girls. It happens to some people like that.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Isn't it weird kissing a bloke? Do you get stubble burn? If both of you are unshaven, do your faces stick together?
/Candice

Dear Candice,
What, seriously?! ... does your face get stubble burn when you kiss a bloke? And we're never both unshaven, so that's a moot point, but no, our faces would not stick together. In conclusion, kissing a bloke is like kissing any other kind of person — only, in this case, extra fantastic.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you think I should dye my hair blue?
/L.E.

PS: I thought the questions were getting a bit repetetive. Some variation for you.

Dear Lily,
No, not blue. Maybe black — then you could be my sister.
Sirius

PS: Thanks, darling.

Dear Sirius,
I just wanted to thank you for the feature in Saturday's Evening Prophet. Seeing you and James Potter together like that finally made me take the leap and tell *my* best friend that I'm in love with him, and we're now an item! I couldn't be more thrilled. Do you have any useful hints or tips for us?
/Liam

Dear Liam,
Congratulations! That's marvellous!! I'm delighted that our happiness has helped inspire someone else's. The most important thing I could tell you is to not lose sight of the fact that he's still your best mate, even if you have got a new name for your friendship — there's just more to it now. It's something I remember every day that I'm with James, now that he's finally my boyfriend as well as my best mate, and every day I'm more grateful. I am so damn lucky.
Sirius

Friday, 10 August 1984

Dear Sirius,
Are you the girl in your relationship or is James?
/Colin

Dear Colin,
I'm sorry, am I the what? We're men — there is no girl in our relationship.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Tell me it's not so!!! I've been in love with you AND James Potter since I was eleven and now you're BOTH taken? I'm heartbroken!!!! How can you be so cruel to your fans?!?
/Agatha aged 14

Dear Agatha,
Well, I apologise for your unnecessary anguish, but really, dear, it's probably for the best. We're so much older than you, after all... It never would have worked between us, love.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I think this whole relationship thing is so cute! You should do a photoshoot for the paper with more adorable pictures. Maybe some ones where you kiss? I'm a photographer, I can help you out!
/Alley

Dear Alley,
Thank you! Though, I have to say, that is one of the most transparently voyeuristic yet ostensibly professional offers I've received since I've started working here. Sadly, I'm going to have to decline, as I really don't feel that shameless yet adorable promotional pictures are really our cup of tea.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Now that you and James are dating, will he get pregnant?
/Sara

Dear Sara,
Um. No, he won't. It, uh, doesn't work like that.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you find all these questions about your personal life annoying yet?
/Paulette

Dear Paulette,
Of course not; lately they've all been about James, and most of them weren't insulting. Why would discussing one of my favourite subjects annoy me?
Sirius

Managing Mischief (2/2): Solemnly Swear

Sat, 16 May 2009 20:52:24 GMT

Title: Managing Mischief (2/2): Solemnly Swear
Author: fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: General/Romance
Word Count: approx. 1,750
Rating: NC-17/MA (to be safe)
Spoilers: Mild
Pairing: James/Sirius
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, slash. AU. Unbeta'd.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these boys or their world.
Blurb: Not all mischief comes in the form of pranks on Slytherins… or pranks in general.
Notes: This part is almost entirely smut of a slashy variety. You’ve been warned. (Though, you should have expected it, anyway.) duva gets points for her encouragement on this, because otherwise this wouldn’t even be close to finished, and I’d still be wailing about how all of my sex scenes are stupid. Thank you, love. ♥
Part One: Up To No Good

Managing Mischief: Solemnly Swear

“The hell? Prongs!?”

“I’ve been plotting this for weeks,” declared James, watching as Sirius stared down at his bare body with an expression of astonishment on his face. “Ever since you were talking at Wormtail and Moony about captive audiences.”

Sirius’s head jerked up. “This is not how those work,” he growled.

“Of course not,” agreed James, smiling. “You’re not really one — you’re the captive and I’m the audience.”

The muscles on Sirius’s arms rippled and bulged oddly as he strained against the scarves, glaring at the other boy.

“Calm down, Padfoot,” James muttered, taking a step closer and pulling his hands from his pockets. He started to reach out soothingly, then stopped himself. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He sounded exasperated, and a bit reproving.

“That’s not what I’m afraid of,” retorted Sirius, but he stopped struggling.

“Are you?” James tilted his head and gave his friend a smile, sideways. “Afraid?”

Sirius’s nostrils flared and his lip curled a little, the beginnings of a growl starting in his throat. He didn’t say anything.

James swept his gaze down the other boy’s torso, settling eventually on his crotch, where Sirius’s cock was slowly hardening. The longer he watched it, the bigger it got, and when he finally looked back up, dark-eyed, at Sirius’s face, he found that the other boy was watching him.

“You drugged me,” said Sirius darkly, the scratchy dryness of his throat making his voice extra rough. He shifted slightly again — though this time it didn’t look as if he were trying to get free, but reminding himself that he couldn’t.

James smirked, dark brows lifting slightly, above his glasses. “That a question?”

“Fuck, you bloody drugged me,” Sirius repeated, rather disbelievingly.

“Only a little,” replied James, not sounding particularly concerned. Rocking back on his heels, he hooked his thumbs in the empty belt loops of his jeans. The hanging weight of his hands pulled them down and exposed more of his skin, drawing attention to the thin trail of black hair leading down his abdomen and disappearing under the denim.

Sirius’s eyes had tracked the movement. He swallowed quickly. “… are you naked under those, Prongs?”

“Yep,” confirmed James, and smiled when he saw Sirius’s cock twitch.

“Oh.” Sirius cleared his throat, but couldn’t seem to look away.

James smiled wider, knowing how low his jeans were riding and how his hands framed the bulge pressing — rather uncomfortably — against his zipper. He was visibly confident that Sirius would like what he saw.

Finally, Sirius managed to drag his eyes back to James’s face, a slight flush to his skin. “I can’t believe you drugged me,” he muttered.

“I can’t believe that,” James countered, rocking back to the balls of his feet and letting himself lazily eye Sirius’s erection some more. “Everyone knows you’d never voluntarily miss out on a Hogsmeade visit.”

The sheets rustled as Sirius shifted yet again, trying to hide the way James’s attention was making his cock pulse, and failing miserably. “Well, maybe a legal one…”

“What, so you’d have been up for this?” asked James, taking a step closer — it put him directly next to the bed, his jeans actually touching the mattress.

Sirius arched his hips slightly and glared.

Abruptly, James laughed, leaning forward, but not enough to actually make contact with Sirius. “Will you get mad if I take that as my answer?”

“Why haven’t you touched me yet?” Sirius demanded, by way of reply.

“I will, don’t worry,” James assured him and, grinning, leaned even further forward. He lifted a hand and ghosted it — not quite touching, no matter how Sirius strained — down the other boy’s chest and stomach. As he passed over his hips and down one long, pale leg, James murmured, “Only I was kind of enjoying the effect that looking at you is having.”

“It’d be more impressive,” growled Sirius, eyes narrowed, futilely arching his hips again, as James’s hand made a return journey “if you’d fucking touch me already.”

James beamed. “Oh, really?” he asked, his eyes darkening. His fingertips brushed up along the line of one hip bone.

Sirius’s breath caught audibly. “Yeah,” he managed to reply, a low rasp.

“It gets more impressive?” He sounded curious, and more than a little eager, stroking Sirius’s hip again. His other hand was moving up Sirius’s chest; his thumb flicked across one flat nipple.

Sirius’s laugh was thin, breathless. “You tied me to my bed, Prongs,” he said, yanking on the scarves in reminder. “You had to know what you were getting in for.”

“Just in general,” James countered, fingers still playing along the soft skin of Sirius’s hip. He seemed a little obsessed with it, and the way Sirius squirmed harder with every additional, lingering touch.

James glanced up, briefly, at the other boy’s face. “Not specifics.”

“Prongs—” started Sirius. James bent forward, his head sinking as his hand finally left its place at Sirius’s hip — to be replaced by his lips, and then the tip of his tongue. Sirius cut off whatever he was going to say.

Carefully exploring Sirius’s hip with his mouth, James closed his fingers around Sirius’s cock, and the other boy’s breath hissed out of him entirely. “Fuck, James.”

“You know,” murmured James, the words warm against Sirius’s skin, “you’re fighting this less than I thought you might.”

It was several minutes, during which James progressed to lightly biting as well as kissing, before Sirius could find his voice to reply, and even then the words were barely audible as he whispered, “If you thought I’d object, why’d you do it?”

James’s mouth and hands stilled, causing Sirius to moan in protest, and he raised his head.

He looked smug.

“I didn’t think you’d object,” he corrected, slipping his hand from around Sirius’s erection and smirking at the needy noise the other boy made. “I thought you’d fight not objecting.”

Then he lowered his head again and swept the tip of Sirius’s cock with his tongue, causing a strangled yelp. He did it a second time, hoping for a similar reaction, and got one, along with a choked “Then why?”

Looking even more pleased with himself than he had before, James straightened abruptly, no longer touching Sirius at all.

Sirius lifted his head and opened glassy eyes to glare incredulously at him. “You’re stopping?”

“No,” James assured him, and proceeded to unfasten his jeans.

The glazed look in Sirius’s eyes got a little hungrier. He licked his lips.

As James shoved the jeans down his hips, exposing an erection at least as hard as Sirius’s, and then sat on the edge of the bed to kick them off, Sirius watched him.

“So, why?” he asked, craning his neck to keep his eyes on James.

James raised his eyebrows. “Why, what?”

“Why’d you do it,” clarified Sirius, his attention wandering when James stood back up, giving Sirius a wonderful view of his cock, just on eye level when he lifted his head.

James looked amused. “Why aren’t you screaming to be set free?” he countered, climbing onto the bed, making sure his body rubbed against the other boy’s as he did so, and straddling him.

“Good point,” gasped Sirius, arching his hips up and moaning when that caused their cocks to slide together.

“You tasted delicious,” James announced, and bent to kiss him. Sirius moaned again and opened his mouth eagerly, welcoming the tangle of tongues that followed.

James was rocking his hips steadily by the time he drew his mouth away from Sirius’s, moving it along his jaw to his ear. “You are delicious.”

“I’m tied to a fucking bed,” said Sirius, almost accusing, moving his hips to meet each firm thrust.

James’s laugh was deep and lusty and smug and it made Sirius shudder. “I know,” he said, still sounding very pleased with himself over that circumstance.

“I wish I could touch you,” Sirius breathed, as James rained kisses across his neck and shoulders, running both hands up and down his chest.

James’s rocking sped up. “Too bad. I like being in control of you like this,” he said firmly, tweaking a nipple at the same time he traced the shell of Sirius’s ear with his tongue.

The boy beneath him moaned. “This is so fucked up.”

“You feel so good,” replied James, tangling a hand in Sirius’s hair and yanking his head up for a hard kiss.

He ground his hips down hard, moving faster.

“James,” Sirius growled, his eyes rolling back and his fists clenching above the scarves as he convulsed.

James made a low sound, watching the other boy’s face, as wet heat spurted across his stomach. “Shit, Sirius,” he moaned, hips rocking furiously, and he came.

Sirius grunted tiredly as James collapsed on top of him.

“Now, wasn’t that fun?” muttered James, into the damp hollow of the taller boy’s throat.

“I never said it wouldn’t be,” Sirius muttered back, his eyes still closed. “But I swear to Merlin, Prongs, if I have to get tied up next time—”

Laughing, James lifted himself up on his elbows to kiss Sirius again.

Remus and Peter returned from Hogsmeade that evening to find James and Sirius in the dorm, possibly never having left it. They were sitting on the floor between their beds, heads close together, laughing at something that probably had very little to do with the neglected-looking chess board between them.

“Your things, Prongs,” said Remus, hefting a large bag with a Zonko’s logo on it, his eyes darting between the other two boys.

James smiled happily. “Thanks, mate,” he said, gesturing for him to put the bag next to Sirius’s trunk.

Remus threw him a narrow look, but dropped the bag.

“Feeling better, then, Padfoot?” asked Peter, flopping onto his bed and digging into an impressively large bag of sweets.

Sirius looked away from James for the first time since the others had entered the room. “Hm?”

“You slept through a Hogsmeade trip,” said Remus, very matter-of-factly. “We figured you must be ill.”

Smiling faintly, Sirius reached up to brush some hair from his face. “Oh.” He glanced at James, who was making no secret of his snickers. “No, I’m fine. Great, actually.”

James made a choking noise. “He’s excellent,” he agreed. “He was just… tired.”

Remus frowned slightly, but took another look at the bland expression on one friend’s face, and the smugness on the other’s, and let it go.

Sirius’s wrists were red and raw enough that he probably didn’t want to know, anyway.

Fin

Dear Sirius (46/52)

Wed, 13 May 2009 20:18:06 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius (part 46/52)
Author: duva & fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: Humor/Romance
Chapter Word Count: ~3700
Status: Complete
Chapter Rating: PG-13/T, for innuendo, language, and objectionable content, like Sirius having a favourite Unforgivable.
Spoilers: Uh, not really. It's so ridiculously AU that it kinda becomes almost completely unspoilerific.
Pairing: James/Sirius
Warnings: AU. Language, innuendo, vegetable violence.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Summary: Thrice weekly in the Evening Prophet's entertainment section, Sirius Black answers all your questions, from the mundane to the complicated to the just plain weird.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine A, Chapter Nine B, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine, Chapter Thirty, Chapter Thirty-One, Chapter Thirty-Two, Chapter Thirty-Three, Chapter Thirty-Four, Chapter Thirty-Five, Chapter Thirty-Six, Chapter Thirty-Seven, Chapter Thirty-Eight, Chapter Thirty-Nine, Chapter Forty, Chapter Forty-One, Chapter Forty-Two, Chapter Forty-Three, Chapter Forty-Four, Chapter Forty-Five
Notes: Most of the important backstory for this — where it differs from canon, anyway — can be found in the newspaper collage at the beginning of the first chapter, but if you're still confused about something, please ask. If you missed any chapters, just follow the above links to get caught up. Remember to comment if you enjoyed this, and if you have any questions for Sirius!

duva and fictionalcandie recently got some really, REALLY awesome news, which they're rather fantastically happy whenever they think about, so they thought they'd celebrate and share the glee. For some reason, that means porn. So, uh, comment for PWP.

Monday, 30 July 1984

Dear Sirius,
Why do girls only like bad boys? I am a very nice man but all the women I meet only want to be my friend! It makes me feel quite cheated, as I put all this time and effort into befriending them and it never leads anywhere. Should I just stop being nice and start being a prick instead?
/Sick of being rejected

Dear Sick,
Oh, I don't think you need to start being a prick — your question pretty much proves you've got that down. It sounds like your problem isn't that you're a nice guy, it's that you're pretending to be a Nice Guy in order to get close to women, to be their friend. Then, you get pissed when they don't want to have sex with you (generally regarded as a friendship-breaker, something they'd want to avoid if you're really a very nice friend), which is really pretty irrational on your part — but I guess if you were being rational to begin with, you wouldn't be in this situation at all. What you need to do is start acting like yourself, stop making an effort to be nice solely so they'll like you, and make it clear, from the very beginning, that you're after action, not the sidelines. Of course, I'm not sure this approach will work for you either, since you seem kind of deceitful and manipulative — which are generally not traits women want in, well, anything — but it'd be more honest, which should almost always be a good thing. Good luck with your skewed view of how relationships work!
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Would you ever date an ugly person?
/Hal

Dear Hal,
Are we talking ugly on the surface? Of course. But ugly on the inside? Not if I actually knew they were, no.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
How do you reckon one goes about becoming a teacher at Hogwarts? I reckon I'd be pretty good at teaching Potions.
/Ursule

Dear Ursule,
I reckon you've got to apply with the board of governors, or possibly just beg Headmaster Dumbledore and have him arrange everything. Or maybe you should start by offing the current Potions Master...?
Sirius

PS: I'm kidding. No, really, I swear.

Dear Sirius,
I think I love you. Will you marry me?
/Athara

Dear Athara,
Aw, thank you, my dear, but I'm afraid we don't have the necessary foundation for that kind of relationship. Maybe you should find someone who you, er, know.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I'm having this argument with my brother and we were wondering if you could help us sort it out. Are bananas fruits or vegetables? I say fruit, he says vegetable. Which one is it?
/Poppy

Dear Poppy,
Actually (and I looked this up, so don't scoff), you're both wrong. Bananas are... Ready for this? Berries. Didn't see that one coming, did you?
Sirius

Wednesday, 1 August 1984

Dear Sirius,
Are you aware that some of your answers come across as rather homoerotic in their nature? Just thought I'd let you know.
/Kenneth

Dear Kenneth,
Really? Only some of them? Clearly, I need to try harder.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you reckon it's dangerous to eat large quantities of parchment?
/Concerned

Dear Concerned,
Well, parchment isn't part of any food group I've ever heard of, so probably.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I have a bit of a problem. See, I fancy this girl, yeah, but she fancies my best mate, who's in love with this bird who happens to be my girlfriend. I don't really know how to go around solving this. Any helpful tips?
/Donny

Dear Don,
A foursome? Sorry, unhelpful. Uh, perhaps break up with your girlfriend — since you fancy someone else, anyway — so that your best mate can go out with her, which will hopefully convince the bird you fancy to give up on him, which'd leave her open for you...? Or else you could just content yourselves with a really screwy love-square.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Is there any trick to stop being in love with someone? A potion, spell, hex even? I'm willing to try anything and I don't care if it's painful because it can't be any worse than it already is.
/Unrequited

Dear Unrequited,
You have no idea how much I really wish I could tell you something that would help you, but I can't — and believe me, I've looked for such a trick. I'm sorry. Maybe you could just... not spend any time around this person? (It's a weak suggestion, I know; it did –– all for me, too. Or, well, it would have, if I'd actually been able to stay away.)
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
What is your favourite Unforgivable?
/Igor

Dear Igor,
Ooh, the Imperius, of course. But I wouldn't use it for what you're thinking. (Well, unless you know me — then I definitely would.)
Sirius

Friday, 3 August 1984

Dear Sirius,
My significant other is SO BOSSY! Not in a mean way, just a very... bossy way, always telling me what to do, how do to it, when... How can I get her to stop being so pushy? I have a will of my own, you know!
/Sadie

Dear Sadie,
Well, since you don't like the bossiness, maybe you should just tell her? "You know, I am an adult, and you're starting to make me feel like you think maybe I'm a five-year old. Could you tone down the telling me what to do, please?"
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
My name is Keavy (I'm Irish). My fiance is called Stephen but insists on going by Stevie. I'm thinking about breaking up with him if he doesn't start going by something else. Even Steve would be fine! How can I make him see that Keavy and Stevie just sounds too dumb for words?
/Rhyme

Dear Keav,
Okay, hold on, let me get this straight. You're thinking of breaking up with a man you agreed to marry over something completely superficial, and you think rhyming names is too dumb for words? Seriously, woman; if it bothers you that bloody much, why don't you get a nickname?
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I am only attracted to bald men. Is there something wrong with me?
/Alice, aged 19

Dear Alice,
Of course not. You just have a weird — but rather innocent — fetish. Happens to all of us. Nothing to worry about, there.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Are dropbears real?
/Worried

Dear Worried,
I can't be sure. I mean, I've never been killed by a marsupial falling out of a tree onto my head, but then, I've never been to Australia either. Maybe they are... just like American Snipe.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
A friend of mine recently told me he's gay and I'm having issues with it. It's not that I mind him being gay, it's just that I don't believe him when he says he is! He's very masculine and has never showed any kind of queer characteristics. Do you think he could just be making this up for attention?
/Sebastian

Dear Seb,
Er, I suppose he could be, but really, why would he? There are much more normal ways to get attention, like threatening to hurt himself, or never wearing clothes, or something. And really, who defines "queer characteristics", anyway? Because, let me tell you, I know a pretty bloody straight gay man or two.
Sirius

309th Annual British and Irish Quidditch League Banquet
3 August 1984
8.17 pm

"I'm hungry," announces Christine, her fingers tapping an uneven rhythm on the table top, directly over one of the gold stars on the purple tablecloth. "And James is going to be late, again."

"Probably still trying to find a date," Cliodhna mutters under her breath.

"D'you think the redhead turned him down, then?" Christine asks, while leaning around her date to peer at the door.

"Probably," answers Cliodhna, turning slightly to give her date an angry glare.

The man next to her is staring very intently at the two bleached blonde women on the other side of the table. Neither of them have noticed, being too busy glaring at each other through smiles so sweet they look likely to send someone into sugar-shock at any moment.

Unlike Cliodhna, Christine is not paying any attention to this, since her date isn't staring at anything but his empty plate. "I still don't understand it, you know," she mutters to the Seeker.

"Hrm?"

"Why he didn't want a date." Christine glances briefly at her silent date. "Everyone wants a date."

Playing with her fork, Cliodhna begins, "Who knows why James does the things he d—"

Also staring at the door, Christine's eyes widen slightly at the same moment Cliodhna's voice dies. "... he brought Black?"

Cliodhna is blinking rather rapidly and Christine can't take her eyes away from where James and Sirius are making their way across the room.

"I'm guessing the redhead did turn him down," Cliodhna says, once she picks her jaw off the floor. "Along with the rest of the female population."

"The world is crazy," decides Christine.

Cliodhna just shakes her head, raising her eyebrows as the two men reach the table. "Hello."

"Sorry I'm late," James says, nodding at her. "Clee. Chris."

"James," replies Christine, managing not to stare now that the two men are closer. "And, er, Black?"

"Hullo," replies Sirius, with a bright grin.

"Hi," Cliodhna says, rather hesitantly.

Sirius glances between her and Christine. His grin widens a fraction. "You two all right? You look a bit startled."

"Fine," replies Cliodhna automatically.

"Roan, you've met Si," James continues, ignoring the weird looks he's getting as he sits down opposite Cliodhna. "Si, this is Roan's wife Amy," with a nod at the woman sitting next to Christine. "Phil and Paul, our Beaters," indicating the men to his own left, "and... their lovely dates."

Said lovely dates take a moment from grimacing at each other to flash appreciative smiles at Sirius, as the Beaters give him identical impassive looks along with their "Hello"s.

James takes a deep breath. "This is Sirius Black." He pauses. "My boyfriend."

Christine squeaks. Cliodhna's fork clatters onto the table top. "What?" she blurts out.

James just grins at her.

Sirius's grin is even wider.

"Boyfriend?" repeats Christine, also rather squeakily.

"Boyfriend," James confirms. He glances over at the two Beaters to judge what their reaction is, but quickly turns back to Christine when realising they've already stopped paying attention. "What?"

"Er." Christine is trying to look like she's not gaping at them. "Er, well— I guess that explains it."

"Explains what?"

"Why you keep him around."

James snorts. "Aren't you going to introduce your dates?"

Shaking herself out of her daze, Christine gestures to the man next to her — who has stopped staring at his plate, though he hasn't said anything yet. "This is Ludlow."

"And this is Quinlan," Cliodhna says, jabbing her elbow into the ribs of the man next to her. There is no apparent effect.

"Does Quinlan not know that it's rude to stare at other women in front of your date?" Sirius inquires innocently, while finally sitting in the empty chair next to James.

"Good question," Cliodhna mumbles. "So. This is a surprise."

"What, that your date has horrid manners?"

Ignoring him, Cliodhna turns to James. "You could have told us, you know."

"At least when you were asking us to be your date tonight," agrees Christine.

"Er." James looks rather sheepish. "I already made it up to him, don't make me make it up to you too."

Christine gives a displeased little sniff. James shrugs, then glances around the table again. "Where's Will?"

"Later than you," Christine replies, still looking less than pleased. "And if he walks in with his roommate, I think I will scream."

Cliodhna snorts.

Sirius leans closer to James and whispers, "I told you they wouldn't be happy to see me."

Before James has a chance to reply, Cliodhna looks over his shoulder and exclaims "There you are!"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Will mumbles, pushing his date forward and kicking out a chair for her. "Slight misunderstanding."

"Really?" asks Christine. "You're thirty minutes late."

Looking oddly proud of himself, Will just shrugs. "Hey, Potter, where's your date?"

"Do you not see the man sitting next to him?"

Will blinks. "Black?"

"Hi, Will," greets a grinning Sirius, with a very small wave.

"... you're Potter's date?"

"Well, I was when we left the house..."

"Boyfriend," clarifies Cliodhna.

"James's," adds Christine, just to be sure he gets it.

"Huh." Will pauses for a moment, glancing at his date. "More female fans for me, then. Excellent." He pats Sirius on the shoulder.

"Glad to be useful," replies Sirius, obviously smothering laughter.

Christine rolls here eyes, but it looks like she's trying not to smile "Do we get an introduction?" she asks, changing the subject.

"Hm? Oh, this is Delphine," Will says, turning to face his date again. "French. Doesn't speak English."

Delphine smiles cheerfully at everyone.

"Nice one," James mumbles. "Oh, food!"

"Excellent," exclaims Ludlow.

"So he does talk," Cliodhna mumbles, rolling her eyes.

Christine is giving her date a disbelieving look.

"... just so you know," James whispers to Sirius as he helps himself to some potatoes, "I am very glad I'm here with you."

"Because I talk?" Sirius whispers back, putting a steak on his plate while watching Ludlow load his own plate with rather impressive speed.

"Yes," James replies, nodding. "That, and because I love you."

"I know," says Sirius, shifting his free hand to James's leg and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Awwwww," Cliodhna says. James gives her a look. She flushes slightly, busying herself with the gravy.

Christine has paused in the middle of dishing herself some green beans and is staring at Sirius. "You're rather sweet," she says.

"... him or me?" asks James.

"Black," she clarifies, a green bean falling off the serving spoon and landing on the tablecloth next to her plate.

Sirius eyes her a little uneasily.

"Say thank you," James says, nudging him with his elbow.

"Thank you?" Sirius makes it sound like a question.

Christine's eyes shift to James. "Okay," she allows, clearly grudgingly, "the fribble's a very nice wedding dress."

"I know," James says, looking rather smug.

"... I'm not sure which part of that to demand an explanation for," says Sirius, glancing from Christine to Cliodhna and then to James.

"I promise I'll explain later," James says, patting Sirius's hand slightly. "Pass me the tomatoes, yeah?"

"Okay." Still giving the two women dubious looks, Sirius passes him the dish of tomatoes.

"Those look good," remarks Ludlow.

".... they're tomatoes," says James.

"Really?" Ludlow sounds surprised — or possibly impressed.

Christine gives her date another patently incredulous look. "Remind me to thank Candice for this."

James bites his lip.

Ludlow looks momentarily confused. "Thank your sister for what?"

"This," replies Christine. "You."

"Isn't this fun," James says, just as one of the bleached blondes next to him start shouting rather shrilly at each other.

Sirius transfers his stare to them. "I had no idea it was possible to say 'like' that frequently in one sentence."

"Aren't you glad you came, eh?"

"Thrilled," Sirius assures him, as the other bleached blonde responds by tossing a pea down the front of the first one's dress.

Christine apparently thinks this is a good enough excuse to behave similarly, as she grabs a corn kernel and tosses it at the side of Cliodhna's date's head. He doesn't even notice. Christine glares at him, then blinks in surprise when another kernel hits him.

Sirius grins at her when she turns her head.

Before James can react to this, he's interrupted by a rather scruffy-looking man appearing behind Christine.

"Sirius?" he asks, scratching at his rather bushy beard.

Sirius transfers his grin to the newcomer. "Tony," he greets cheerfully.

"How did you manage an invite to this affair, dear boy?" asks the man, as he takes a step closer to the table.

His generous belly pokes the back of Cliodhna's head.

"I didn't," replies Sirius. He throws an arm around James's shoulders. "I'm with him."

Tony blinks.

Sirius is looking at James now. "You've met the Prophet's senior sports guy, right, love?"

"Um," James says. "Probably?"

"Anthony DeMarco," Sirius supplies, gesturing in the newcomer's general direction, as he transfers his gaze again. "D'you remember James, Tony?"

"Potter," nods Tony. "Yes, I know." He still looks rather confused.

"Black is James's date," Christine puts in helpfully.

"Oh." Tony blinks again. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise."

"James's boyfriend," Sirius clarifies brightly.

"I say," Tony says, eyes bulging slightly. "You've been keeping secrets, young man!"

Sirius fairly beams at the older man. "Oh, you've no idea."

Tony scratches at his beard again. "Hm."

"Besides," Sirius adds, catching the stare on Christine's face and shrugging, "You've never asked."

"You know," Tony says, staring at James now, "Lilith is here somewhere..."

"Oh." Sirius blinks once, then glances a bit uncertainly at James. "Of course she is."

"Would you mind if we ran a feature?" asks Tony, his belly pushing more than ever on the back of Cliodhna's head. "I have a feeling it's something our readers would appreciate."

"Well..." Sirius eyes James again.

"Sure," says James, sounding slightly less than thrilled. "You don't mind, do you?" he adds, turning to look at Sirius.

"James," Sirius says, quite pointedly. "Of course not."

"All right," nods James, turning back to Tony. "Only don't let that Skeeter woman write it."

"Yes, definitely not Skeeter," agrees Sirius, his expression faintly surprised. "I'm familiar with her own, special version of 'the truth'."

"I'll write it myself," says Tony, nodding earnestly. "Unless you want to do it."

"I don't think anyone would want to publish it if I did it," Sirius admits.

"Why, what would you say?" asks Cliodhna, leaning forward so far that her breasts are nearly in her food in order to escape from Tony's stomach.

"Um," Sirius's eyes trail down James's face, neck and shoulders before he looks back up at the others. "Well, the Prophet's a family publication, you know."

".... say no more," says Tony, finally leaning back a little. "Ah, I can see Lilith over by the Puddlemere table — let me go fetch her."

With that, he scurries off.

Christine doesn't even glance after him, instead staring at Sirius, who is still leering at James. "So?" she demands.

"Chrissie," Cliodhna hisses.

"What?" says Christine defensively. "I want to know what he'd write."

"... how much have you had to drink?" James asks.

Christine lifts her half-full glass up to eye level and regards it seriously for a moment. "Oh, er— Two glasses of wine?" she replies, a little uncertainly. Then, "You were awfully late, you know."

"Not as bad as those two," James says, indicating Will and Delphine, who are feeding each other grapes.

"No," agrees Christine. She sets her glass back down and peers at Sirius again. "Well?"

Arm still around James's shoulder, Sirius leans forward a little and meets her eyes, grinning wickedly. "You really want to know?"

"Si," James says, sounding vaguely nervous.

Eyes widening at James's tone, Christine nods quickly. "Oh, yes, really."

"Really," Cliodhna agrees, all thoughts of shutting Christine up apparently forgotten.

Dropping his arm from James's shoulders, Sirius leans even closer. "Well, for starts, I think I'd start with how he talks when—"

"Here come Tony and Lilith," James interrupts. Very, very loudly.

"Oh," says Sirius, glancing up. "Right."

"Here we are," Tony says, managing to bump into the back of Christine's head this time around. "Lilith, work your magic."

Christine squeaks indignantly, managing to startle Ludlow into briefly abandoning his dinner.

"Right," the plumpish woman with the camera is saying, bored eyes on Sirius and James. "So what exactly am I going for here?"

"Just get a snapshot of the happy couple here," Tony instructs. "Sirius, my boy, put your arm back around him."

James looks slightly pained. Sirius glances at him before, very gently, doing as Tony suggests.

"Oh, lovely," says Lilith, in the same flat voice as before. She lifts the camera and clicks the shutter a couple of times. "Maybe if Potter didn't look sick, Tony..."

Coughing slightly, James attempts a smile.

"Better," mutters Lilith, clicking again. She moves a few steps to the side and takes another picture.

Sirius chuckles. "James," he says, leaning in so his lips brush James's ear and whispering, "I love you, remember?"

James's face softens.

The shutter of Lilith's camera clicks frantically. "Oh, perfect!"

"I think that's enough," Tony announces. "We're running a feature, not a special."

"Right," replies Lilith, lowering her camera with just a bit of reluctance. "They make a great shot, though."

"Quite," Tony agrees. "I say, is that Fiona Mills sitting with Raybert Randall over there?"

Lilith's head spins around. "Yes," she says, raising her camera and taking a step in that direction at the same time. "Yes, it definitely is."

"I smell a scoop," Tony says, nearly bouncing on his heels. "Quick, Lilith, before they dash off —"

"On it," she replies, quickly moving away.

"Tony has a thing for scoops," Sirius murmurs, into the side of James's neck.

"I figured," James mumbles back. "So."

Dropping a kiss just beneath James's jaw, Sirius straightens and turns to his coworker. "That be all, then, Tony?"

"Quite all," Tony says, nodding. "And congratulations." With that, he wobbles off after Lilith.

"Is he always like that?" asks Christine, wrinkling her nose a little.

"Quite pushy," Cliodhna agrees.

"He smells like stale cake," Christine declares.

Ludlow looks up from his plate. "Cake?"

"No cake yet," James says, shaking his head. "Reckon that'll do it?" he asks, turning back to Sirius.

"Probably," says Sirius. "Not like anyone'll be able to misinterpret that last photo, right?"

"I should hope not," James says, leaning in to brush his lips quickly across Sirius's. "I don't let just anyone do that to me in public, y'know."

Cliodhna makes an awww-ing noise.

"You two are disgustingly sweet," mutters Christine, in the voice of someone discovering a secret they don't know what to make of.

"Sweets?" asks Ludlow.

"Not yet," replies Sirius, rolling his eyes.

Managing Mischief (1/2): Up To No Good

Wed, 13 May 2009 01:26:07 GMT

Title: Managing Mischief (1/2): Up To No Good
Author: fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: General/Romance
Word Count: approx. 1,100
Rating: PG/K+
Spoilers: Mild
Pairing: pre-ish-James/Sirius
Warnings: Innuendo, objectionable content. AU. Unbeta'd.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these boys or their world.
Blurb: Not all mischief comes in the form of pranks on Slytherins… or pranks in general.
Notes: Anyone with doubts about the nature of the next part does not know me :p

Managing Mischief: Up To No Good

Remus was having difficulty believing his eyes.

It wasn’t that James tampering with someone’s food, despite his being Head Boy, was particularly surprising, in itself — far from it. It wasn’t even surprising that someone would want to tamper with Sirius’s food. It was just that when the two were combined, the logical conclusion was… bewildering.

Nonetheless, Remus was still almost positive that he’d seen James do something — he had no idea what — to Sirius’s goblet of pumpkin juice while the other boy had his back turned, snarking down the table at Evans. Remus was also almost positive that he’d seen the tiny, empty vial that James had then slipped back into his pocket afterwards.

Remus was mostly just having trouble coming up with a single reason for James to be doing something to Sirius. They were best mates, after all, of the order which allowed for no higher loyalties, and to the best of his knowledge, there wasn’t a single wrong thing between them at the moment.

In fact, before this incongruous sighting, Remus would have felt confident saying that they’d never been better.

Perplexed and, admittedly, curious — though not exactly concerned — Remus kept a wary eye on them throughout the rest of dinner. But though he watched carefully, he didn’t notice anything else odd.

James — and Sirius — were behaving exactly as they normally did, to everyone as well as each other.

Remus was starting to believe that he’d imagined the whole thing, when Sirius stumbled on the way back to the the Tower, almost knocking Peter into a suit of armor.

Sirius never stumbled like that.

Remus barely caught the flash of satisfaction in James’s eyes before it vanished.

His confusion and amazement growing in equal measure, Remus watched as Sirius barely made it through a single round of Exploding Snap before, bleary-eyed and yawning, the boy pronounced himself knackered and dragged his unusually graceless body up to their dorm, and presumably his bed.

Still unable to come up with a single reason why James would deliberately induce such behavior, Remus felt his theory crumbling all over again, seeing James evince not the tiniest amount of unusual interest in his best mate going to bed early.

James even complained about it.

Perfectly normal.

To Remus’s further bafflement, James only cast his one, habitual glance at the half-closed curtains of Sirius’s bed before climbing under his own covers and going to sleep.

After thinking about it, Remus decided that despite Sirius’s odd behavior, and that vial which he really could have sworn he’d seen in James’s hand, he must have been imagining things.

Peter wasn’t surprised to wake and find that Sirius was still asleep — not even to discover that Sirius was the only one not yet awake.

Then Peter remembered that it was a Hogsmeade Saturday; he knew as well as anyone that Sirius never slept in on Hogsmeade weekends.

Blankly confused, he asked James what was going on, and got a shrug in reply. Remus wasn’t much better, though Peter did see him throw James an odd, almost frowning look while he remarked that Sirius was probably just very tired — he must have been, really, since he fell asleep in his clothes.

Finding this all very odd but not knowing what to make of it, Peter grunted, and finished getting ready for the day.

“Let him sleep,” James instructed, when Peter would have given Sirius’s shoulder a good, rousing shake. “He’ll need his rest.”

Peter, not being particularly concerned if their black hole of a friend missed a meal, let it go, and followed the other two down to breakfast.

When Sirius still hadn’t got out of bed — really, it didn’t look as if he’d even moved — by the time they got back, though, Peter could see that Remus, at least, was getting a bit concerned, even if he wasn’t himself.

“I’m certain he’ll wake eventually,” James assured them, in response to Remus’s hesitatingly voiced worry.

James was using the voice he reserved for suspicious adults.

Peter exchanged a dubious glance with Remus.

“Why don’t you two just go ahead to Hogsmeade?”

Put even more on guard by this strange suggestion, Remus started to object.

“I’ll stay with Sirius,” James said, a little too quickly. “But make sure you stop at Zonko’s and stock me up, all right?”

There wasn’t really much they could say to that, whether they wanted to or not, so after a moment, Remus and Peter trudged out of the room.

Anyway, Peter reflected on their way through the Great Hall, it wasn’t as if James would do anything sneaky to a sleeping Sirius.

He was probably the only person who was completely safe from James.

Sirius woke up slowly, which was normal — though normally he didn’t do it quite this slowly. It took him several minutes before he realized that the dorm was completely silent. It took him several more — struggling with a strangely sluggish brain — to realize what that meant.

He snapped his eyes open.

Knowing that he never woke to a silent dorm, Sirius tried to sit up and look around for his friends, who should have been moving about and making noise by the time he woke.

That was when he realized that his arms were tied, at the wrist, to the bedposts, with — craning his neck, he looked more closely — what appeared to be his best scarf on the right, and James’s oldest on the left.

Sirius muttered a bewildered expletive, tugging at the bindings. They didn’t give at all. A further string of profanity followed the first curse.

“Play nice, Padfoot,” said a smug voice.

Startled, Sirius twisted, to find James standing near the bed, watching him with a very satisfied look on his face. He wasn’t wearing robes like he usually did even on weekends at school, but Muggle clothes like he did during the summer — and like he often did during the summer, he had no shirt on.

Sirius immediately raised his voice to demand that James tell him what in Merlin’s shorts was going on, and was surprised at the raspy croak that left his mouth.

James smiled and pushed his hands deeper into the back pockets of his jeans.

“Moony and Wormtail are off in Hogsmeade,” he announced, at Sirius’s look of irritation. He glanced toward the door; it was closed. “They won’t be back for hours.”

Displeasure mounting, Sirius growled.

James’s only reaction was the widening of his smile.

“You and I are going to have some fun.”

And Sirius realized that he was completely naked.

Read Part Two…

Wanting Things

Sat, 09 May 2009 07:48:07 GMT

Title: Wanting Things
Author: fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: Romance
Word Count: approx. 1,200
Status: Complete
Rating: PG/K+
Spoilers: None, really.
Pairing: James/Sirius
Warnings: None. Well, slash, but that should be obvious. Oh, and AU, but that should also be obvious. Unbeta'd.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, most likely I don’t own it.
Blurb: It takes some people longer than others to learn. Especially with the important things.

Wanting Things

James was lounging on the sofa that he thought of as his, even though it was in Sirius’s apartment. It was where James always sat when he came over, which was often, and whenever he was on the sofa, Sirius would situate himself on the floor next to it, sometimes with his back against it and sometimes not touching it at all, but always there, always close.

James often wondered why Sirius even bothered owning any furniture, as he never seemed to use it, not even the table and chairs in the kitchen — the only piece he was absolutely certain Sirius ever used was his bed, and even that wasn’t because James had seen it, only because he knew Sirius would never sleep on a floor.

Perhaps Sirius didn’t sleep.

After all, it was two in the morning and he wasn’t showing any signs of tiredness. James, on the other hand, was feeling slightly drowsy, in the pleasant way where he didn’t really feel compelled to sleep, just to not move very much, and sigh tiredly every few minutes. He thought, vaguely, that maybe he ought to go home soon.

He didn’t particularly want to.

His on-again, off-again relationship with Lily had just broken up for the fourth time in as many months, and he was doing what he always did when that happened — sit around with Sirius and not talk about anything unless they felt like it.

Silence with Sirius was better than speaking with other people.

Everything was better with Sirius.

Without really intending to, James gave one of those little, sleepy sighs.

Sirius was absently tracing phantom shapes in the air with the tip of his wand, and while James watched he thought. His fight with Lily this time had been over something he normally wouldn’t have cared about, just like the last fight had been, and just like last time, James wasn’t really sure he wanted her back. Oh, they’d make up their fight of course, it would be awkward not to, considering how close she was to Sirius — but James didn’t really think he would be making up with her this time.

His eyes followed the smooth, graceful sweeps and twists of Sirius’s wand, a dark, slender length wrapped in pale, slender fingers. Another sigh slipped out.

James’s relationship with Lily had never really been all that serious. He didn’t think either of them had ever actually intended to get together, it had just sort of happened one day while he hadn’t been paying attention, and the next time he’d looked they’d been sort-of-mostly going out for over two years. He’d never considered the question of whether he actually wanted Lily.

He glanced at Sirius’s face, pale and serene in the light from the room’s lamps.

To James’s knowledge, Sirius had never had a serious relationship, or even a steady date; only a slew of one- or two-night stands, with a great many beautiful people, of both genders. James could still remember, exactly, how the faint shiver of surprise had felt, going down his spine, the first time he’d realized that Sirius dated men as well as women. That shiver had been followed by another, larger, of displeasure rather than surprise, but James made it a point never to remember that one, because James did not get jealous, did not care if some other man had touched what he could never quite avoid thinking of as his.

Sirius had told him once, because James had been pestering him for an explanation, that he didn’t really care whether people were men or women, just the way he didn’t care if they were blond or brunette or redhead — he simply saw things he wanted.

James occasionally wished he looked at things that simply, too. Or looked at them at all. Since Lily, he had to admit that he really didn’t pay that much attention to anyone. Certainly he didn’t pay enough to be noticing things in order to want them.

Sirius’s head tilted slightly as he twisted the wand in a more complicated pattern. James watched the way it changed the lines of his face, as Sirius finished with a flourish. A grin flashed across that face, and James sighed again, deliberately moving his gaze away.

Clothing rustled as Sirius slid his wand back away.

“… what’s it like?” James asked quietly, without really deciding to, his eyes on the ceiling.

Sirius turned his head. “What’s what like?”

“Kissing a man.”

“… ah,” murmured Sirius.

James held very still.

There was silence for several moments, not even the sound of their breathing breaking the quiet.

Then Sirius’s voice, lower than before. “Sit up, James.”

James sat up. Still not looking at Sirius, he swung his legs off the couch — and barely managed not to startle when Sirius moved to kneel between them. There was plenty of room, as James automatically moved so Sirius’s sides didn’t quite brush against his jeans, but somehow the other man seemed to be taking up more space than he normally did.

James’s skin prickled all over, an expectant hum tingling through him.

“Kissing a man?” Sirius repeated, the words slow and precise, his voice gone all deep and smooth and dangerous.

About to nod, James saw Sirius raise his hand, and stilled, staring into grey eyes that had darkened to match that shivery voice.

The first touch of Sirius’s fingers against his face was far gentler than any they’d exchanged before, barely firm enough for James to notice and wonder at the softness of Sirius’s skin. It was warm, careful, deliberately sensual, and it made the tingle in James’s skin increase ‘til he thought he’d break apart at the edges.

“Sirius,” James murmured, fighting not to lean into the ridiculously soft caress.

Determination firmed Sirius’s face. A whispered “Like this,” and he bent forward.

Automatically, James’s eyes slipped closed.

He had expected it to feel weird, but it didn’t. Sirius’s lips were just another pair of lips. Firm, gentle lips brushing against his own, cool and a bit chapped but somehow still soft — just lips.

Sirius angled his head a little differently, his teeth caught James’s lower lip faintly, and James’s heart stuttered. Then something warm and wet slid across the spot Sirius had just bitten, and James’s lips parted with a small soundless gasp.

It was just a mouth, lips and teeth and tongue stroking hotly against his own, just a mouth.

Just Sirius’s mouth.

He was starting to get dizzy when Sirius finally pulled away, and it struck James a little blindly that only their mouths had been touching, except where Sirius’s fingers still cradled his cheek with absurd tenderness. His own hands were sitting in his lap — only instead of being limp like before, they were clenched to fists, almost white-knuckled from trying not to reach for Sirius.

James opened his eyes.

Sirius was watching him, no smile on the lips James had just been devouring.

“I…” James started.

“I see things I want in lots of people, James,” Sirius said quietly, his words from that long-ago conversation sounding exactly the same, only this time they made James want.

Something warm flashed in Sirius’s eyes.

“I’ve always seen the most in you.”

Dear Sirius: 6 May 1978

Wed, 06 May 2009 21:22:30 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius: 6 May 1978
Author: fictionalcandie via garderob (duva beta'd and generally improved stuff)
Chapter Word Count: ~1800
Rating: PG-13/T
Pairing: (one-sided, but beyond blatant) James/Sirius
Warnings: AU. Brief language.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Notes: Hello, folks, your filler this week will be... a flashback to how Sirius spent the last Quidditch match of James's Hogwarts career! (It's the one where James scored every single goal, you'll remember.) Some of you have been wondering about this for awhile; hopefully you'll think it was worth the wait. :D And after the filler, we will be answering your questions – whether THAT was worth the wait or not is a different question!

"Almost done?" asks Sirius, observing the infinitesimal decline in the speed of James's food consumption.

"Mphf," is James's reply.

Sirius puts down the toast he's been pretending to nibble at for the past quarter of an hour, since they entered the Great Hall to grab a quick late breakfast. "Walk you down, then."

James nods his agreement, and shoves another bite of scrambled eggs into his mouth. Sirius watches, with a trace of bitter resignation, the way there isn't even a smidgeon of surprise in either of them at his correct interpretation of James's actions and mumble. He suppresses the feeling though, and just smiles faintly as he gets to his feet and James follows.

The walk to the pitch seems to take forever.

"See you after!" Sirius calls. It is different from his usual parting shot of 'See you in the air!' but James is so excited that he doesn't seem to hear — after all, though, it's the final match of his Hogwarts career, it's outcome will decide who gets the Quidditch cup, and they're playing Slytherin thanks to "complications" earlier in the year.

Since Sirius is ridiculously proud of James for those same things, he doesn't blame him. He wouldn't want to, anyway, as James's distraction is rather convenient.

With one last look at the pitch, Sirius reluctantly, determinedly turns and walks in the opposite direction, toward the lake.

It's going to be a long day.

The crowd of students at the pitch are making so much noise just twenty minutes later that they're a dull roar, one which can be heard even under a particular tree next to the lake — which is where Sirius is sitting. The announcer's magically magnified voice will reach him loud and clear. As it should, since that's why he chose this particular spot rather than squirreling himself away somewhere in the castle, where he'd have no idea regarding the game's progress.

The game starts basically like every other game since their second year, with Sirius paying more attention to James's name than any other — so of course he catches it when the announcer notes, somewhat amusedly, "Gryffindor captain Potter seems to be confused — the way he's gaping around the pitch certainly makes it look like he doesn't know where he is! I hope he remembers how to play, folks!"

Sirius can't stop himself flinching, visibly if there were anyone to see it.

"And they're off! Slytherin's Hardigan with the Quaffle to start. Potter still looks confused.— Hardigan passes down the field to Parkes, but— what? The Quaffle is intercepted by Potter, and people, that is not the flying of a confused man! Look at him go!"

If the rest of the game is going to go this way, Sirius reflects sourly, then clearly someone, somewhere, in some position of authority must really hate him.

"Potter scores!! Two minutes in, and Potter's made the first goal of the match!"

Make that a very long day, Sirius grouses to himself.

Four hours later, his prediction is proving depressingly accurate.

"This is unbelievable, folks. Potter has just been all over the Quaffle today, I don't think it's left his possession for more than five minutes at once, not even his teammates have had it for very lo— And now Potter is approaching the Slytherin hoops again, will he— I DON'T BELIEVE IT, HE'S SCORED AGAIN! 120-0, GRYFFINDOR!"

The roar of the crowd is practically deafening, even from where Sirius sits.

"The energy from him this match is just staggering…" the announcer continues, getting steadily more awed, even though he'd passed the point of credulity about forty-eight minutes ago by Sirius's count. "… and he's got the Quaffle again, ladies and gentlemen. This is just… astonishing!"

Leaning his head back against the tree, Sirius curses the fifth year Hufflepuff doing the announcing this match for his enthusiasm, and silent roots James on through five more goals, and about eight collisions with Bludgers and opposing players, before someone spots the Snitch. He doesn't really pay attention to which team catches it, but it doesn't really matter anyway, because—

"AND THEY'VE DONE IT! GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

Sirius, imagining the smiling, whooping spectacle James must be putting on at the moment, ready to celebrate with anyone who'll come close enough to share his enthusiasm, tells himself that he's glad to be sitting here by the lake, instead of standing out on the field with his housemates. How could he take that?

This is a good thing, Sirius thinks, bitterly, trying to convince himself that he isn't desperate to stand up, run to the pitch, pretend he'd been there the whole time and embrace the triumphant James. This must be a good thing. If I were there I would ruin this, ruin us, ruin everything. I can't let him see— I can't give in to this— it is better this way. This must be a good thing.

"I've never seen a performance like that in my life!! That show Potter put on today — every single goal — by Merlin, if he doesn't play for England someday, I'll eat my bloody hat! And everyone else's too!"

"So will a lot of people," Sirius murmurs dryly, welling with half-reluctant pride for his best friend.

Sirius can picture the likely scene at the pitch so vividly that it almost hurts, and he can't get it out of his head. There's obviously cheering, and yelling, and there must be smiles and palpable joy — and James, windblown and ruddy, is probably beaming and hugging everyone in sight, looking so delicious that Sirius is half-convinced it should be criminal. Just like James looks after every game. Just like he looked after his last game, when Sirius came within inches of grabbing him and snogging him breathless… and realised he couldn't keep subjecting himself to that and stay safe.

The memory of that image, and the realisation that came with it, makes Sirius's chest ache.

So he sits far away, where he can resist temptation, until the sound of cheering retreats into the castle then fades entirely, and it starts to get dark out.

Then he goes for a run around the edges of the Forbidden Forest. A nice, long, hard run, so that it's good and late before he heads back up to Gryffindor Tower.

The common room looks empty when Sirius cautiously slips through the portrait hole. Feeling relieved, yet inexplicably let down, he moves toward the boys' staircase, not sure whether he's hoping or fearing that his dorm mates will all be asleep already.

He doesn't even make it halfway there.

"So, what was it?" demands a voice from the shadows, near the fire. Recognising it immediately, Sirius stops and turns, his heart speeding up and sinking a little at the same time.

James is slouched over in an armchair, his arms crossed, staring hard at Sirius. One of his eyes is blackening, there are a few bruises scattered across his skin where it's exposed on his arm and neck and there are probably quite a few more on the rest of his body — minor injuries from the game that he apparently didn't see the need to have Madam Pomfrey heal.

They make Sirius feel like a toerag.

"What was what?" asks Sirius, knowing James is about to ask his reason for not attending the match, and not sure what he's going to say in response.

James raises an eyebrow. "The emergency." He pauses. "Since you weren't at the game." Another, longer pause, while Sirius tries to think what the hell he can say to that. "There was an emergency, wasn't there?"

Sirius considers being evasive — he's good at that — but eventually decides that it's James so he can't.

It's James.

"No, there wasn't," he mumbles.

Abruptly looking incensed, James snarls, "Right, well, you just missed the best game of my entire life. Thanks for that."

Sirius flinches as if he's been struck, but he doesn't say anything.

"And," adds James, getting to his feet, "you also missed the House party."

Unable to continue looking at him, Sirius averts his eyes and stares instead at the fireplace. "I'm sorry," he says, still a mumble.

"Sorry? You're sorry?" James demands. He sounds so furious that Sirius wants to sink into the floor. Glaring, James advances a few steps. "Fucking hell, Padfoot, is that all you've got to say for yourself?"

"I'll never do it again?" he offers. His voice, by some miracle for which he thanks Merlin, is quite steady.

"There's never going to be an 'again'!" snaps James. "This was our last game, Sirius! My last game!"

"I know!" Sirius realises he's raised his voice and, swallowing, lowers it again. "James, I have no excuse. I just— I— Look, I'll make it up to you, I promise."

James keeps scowling. "How?"

"I don't know," sighs Sirius, rubbing a tired hand over his face. "But I will."

James hesitates, obviously wanting to remain angry, but not being able to sustain it while faced with a weary, regretful Sirius. He clears his throat.

"Do you have any idea how it felt?" he asks, his voice low. "Not seeing you in the stands?"

Sirius winces. "I was hoping you wouldn't look."

"Yeah, well, I did." A pause. "I always do."

"I'm sorry," mumbles Sirius wretchedly.

Ignoring him, James takes a step forward. "Do you know how that felt?"

Sirius shakes his head. "No. I can imagine, though. It's… probably not a nice feeling."

"No," James agrees. "It's not."

There's a moment of silence.

"Do not ever make me feel like that again, Sirius," James eventually announces coldly.

I would make you feel worse if I told you the truth, Sirius thinks, and nods solemnly. "I won't, I swear."

James gives him a cool stare for a long time, before he nods. "Good," he is all he says, and that's that.

Too good to you, Sirius's brain screams at him, but all he does is smile sheepishly at James.

"You look like hell," James announces, after another moment of silence. "You've been running in the Forest, haven't you?"

Sirius nods, his smile fading but not disappearing. "I know we shouldn't be doing it by ourselves, but—"

James sighs, a look on his face exactly like his mother's when he and Sirius have done something foolish that they've been warned about but which didn't actually hurt them this time. "Get up to bed before I punch you for being stupid."

Foot on the bottom stair before he finishes speaking, Sirius pauses, looking over his shoulder at the unmoving James. "You coming?" he asks softly.

James heaves another sigh, a tired one this time, and runs a hand through his hair. "I'll be along soon. I'm just gonna sit by the fire for a bit longer."

"You sure?"

"Go on, Padfoot."

Sirius goes.

So, in a fit of egomania, we invited you, our dear readers, to ask us questions this week, since Sirius wouldn't be around to give you any answers. sarieva3 decided to heed the call, and asked us the following:

a) How do you write together? You are on separate continents, no?

b) What is your favorite chapter of Dear Sirius? So far.

c) Can you tell us about the next project that you have hinted at? Or is it a secret?

So, we each individually replied to these, without consulting with each other or seeing the other one's answers. Here's what we ended up with:

fictionalcandie's answers:

a) Indeed we are and between us there's a time difference of seven hours — and also this really big annoying wet thing that some people call the Atlantic Ocean — which I'm sure you can imagine makes things tricky sometimes. Normally, we have daily AIM conversations (which is how we role-play the scenes in every chapter) and send lots of emails back and forth (which is how we write the questions and answers), and generally end up flailing at each other through basically every form of internet communication there is. We really, really like the internet.

b) This is a tough question, as basically every chapter has been my favourite at some point. I think, though, in the end it's either 27, when Sirius surprises James with the Catriona McCormack interview, or else 28, when Lily catches Sirius snogging James at his birthday party.

c) Nope, not a secret! Well, not really. Haha. Like Dear Sirius, it's going to be AU, J/S and multi-chapter, of course, but unlike DS, it takes place while the boys are still at school, and there are fewer original characters running about making themselves important. We've actually had several chunks of it written since before we began posting Dear Sirius, and there's even more of it already planned out. Hopefully, everyone will find it at least as amusing as they do Dear Sirius, since we routinely crack ourselves up with it, but it's also full of drama and other teenagerly things. (Like UST!)

duva's answers:

a) We are indeed. Atlantic Ocean; YOU are made of fail. Very tragic. The writing for this happens in two different ways:

- The Q&A bit is done via email. I come up with ridiculous questions and send them to fictionalcandie, who then comes up with Sirius's answers. These are usually hilarious and make me go "HAAAAAAHAHAAAAAA" which is bad 'cause somehow I end up reading most of them during my morning commute. People must think I'm nuts. Anyway.

- The "story" bit (we refer to it as the "log bit"; RPG damage) is done via AIM, basically in the way of a role playing game (hey, would you look at that). I "play" James, fictionalcandie plays Sirius, and the rest of them we divide between the two of us. (The regular ones, though, have a set player – I write Lily, Ivy and Cliodhna, for instance, while fictionalcandie writes Remus, Mrs Potter and Christine.)

Additionally there's the planning, which... is somewhat scary. A relatively sane example for you:

duva: do we need to plan
fictionalcandie: *giggles*
fictionalcandie: yes
fictionalcandie: james is going over to lily's to face the angry troll
duva: yep
duva: he is nervous as hell.
fictionalcandie: naturally
fictionalcandie: is remus there?
duva: hm
duva: what do you reckon?

Very eloquent, no? Annnnyway, that is basically it. Then we edit (I do the questions bit, fictionalcandie does the log), Bob's your uncle, voila.

b) This is a hard one! I thiiiiiiink I'm gonna have to go with 28. I don't really know WHY; I just remember I was really looking forward to writing it and being really pleased with how it turned out. Also have a fondness for 25, which is okay because I am well over 18, thank you very much. Ahem.

c) Ohooooo! Well. It is like this one, and it is not. Let's see...

SIMILARITIES:
- J/S
- Co-written
- AU

DIFFERENCES:
- Not Humour, as such
- Set during their Hogwarts days
- Not quiiiiite as AU

We actually started this (and wrote, like, a third of it) waaaaaay before we started DS. In fact, the first chapter was written about two years ago, pre-DH. Yikes!

We would be a bit creeped out by how we said, y'know, the same things... but we do that at least five times a day, so we're used to it. Campbell.

Dear Sirius (45/52)

Wed, 29 Apr 2009 22:26:21 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius (part 45/52)
Author: duva & fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: Humor/Romance
Chapter Word Count: ~3100
Status: Complete
Chapter Rating: PG-13/T, for innuendo, language, and objectionable content, like Sirius's take on doggie discipline.
Spoilers: Uh, not really. It's so ridiculously AU that it kinda becomes almost completely unspoilerific.
Pairing: James/Sirius
Warnings: AU. Language, innuendo, mushiness.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Summary: Thrice weekly in the Evening Prophet's entertainment section, Sirius Black answers all your questions, from the mundane to the complicated to the just plain weird.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine A, Chapter Nine B, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine, Chapter Thirty, Chapter Thirty-One, Chapter Thirty-Two, Chapter Thirty-Three, Chapter Thirty-Four, Chapter Thirty-Five, Chapter Thirty-Six, Chapter Thirty-Seven, Chapter Thirty-Eight, Chapter Thirty-Nine, Chapter Forty, Chapter Forty-One, Chapter Forty-Two, Chapter Forty-Three, Chapter Forty-Four
Notes: Most of the important backstory for this — where it differs from canon, anyway — can be found in the newspaper collage at the beginning of the first chapter, but if you're still confused about something, please ask. If you missed any chapters, just follow the above links to get caught up. Remember to comment if you enjoyed this!

A bit of bad news, readers — there won't be a chapter next week, because... well, because there won't. There will, however, definitely be some Dear Sirius-related filler. (Everyone remembers the shower-flashback filler, yes?) The Authoresses like filler. So will you. ~~Or else!~~ Er. Anyway. Since there will sadly be no Sirius-questions next week, we're hereby inviting all of you to ask us questions instead, preferably about our writing in general and Dear Sirius in particular. Our excuse for this blatant show of hubristic egomania? Well, we thought you might be curious.

Monday, 23 July 1984

Dear Sirius,
Is it really true that Healers don't help Muggles? If so, what do the poor Muggles do when they, say, break a bone or catch Dragon Pox?!
/Hypochondriac

Dear Hypo,
I, uh, don't think many Muggles catch Dragon Pox. But they do have this thing called "doctors" who do this thing that is incredibly unsettling to watch, but definitely not magic, in order to fix hurt Muggles. So you don't need to worry about them.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
What do you smell like?
/Nosey

Dear Nosey,
Tasty things your mum would warn you about.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
My dog is so badly behaved! He'll dig up all my flowerbeds and pee on chairs and jump onto everyone he meets, and I have no idea what to do. Did you ever have these kind of problems with your dog? Do you have any advice?
/Barking mad

Dear Barking,
No, actually, I'm a very lucky bloke, in that my dog never did any of that when I didn't want him to. As for advice... smack his nose with a rolled up Prophet when he misbehaves? Only not my section. That's disrespectful.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
You've talked about how to get boys to like you. How do you get GIRLS to like you?
/Single and sad

Dear Sad,
You smile (but not in a creepy way). And dress nicely (though not better than they do). And smell good (not overpoweringly so, of course). And ask them to lunch (which is much less threatening than dinner). And listen when they talk (or at least pretend to).
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
My child is SUCH a picky eater! I don't mean she won't eat her veggies, or anything like that — she won't eat ANYTHING but raisins, biscuits or breakfast cereal! I'm worried she's about to get scurvy. What can I do?
/R

Dear Grantaire,
Start making orange biscuits? If you don't want to put your foot down and declare she gets nothing to eat until she starts eating what you put in front of her. Supper is supper and if she doesn't eat it, she doesn't eat anything.
Sirius

Wednesday, 25 July 2984

Dear Sirius,
What, according to you, is the most attractive physical trait a person can possess? (Personality does not count.)
/Shallow

Dear Shallow,
A sexy neck. Or else, well... unique... hair.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Would you rather:
- Marry someone you know you didn't love, or watch the love of your life marry someone else?
- Be an Animagus or a Metamorpmagus?
- Have to tell your parents you were gay, or have one of them tell you they were?
- Sing in front of everyone you know, or strip to your underwear in front of everyone you know?
- Only speak the truth, or never talk?
- Never do magic again, or never wear shoes?
- Throw up on your date or have your date throw up on you?
- Only wear pink for the rest of your life or walk around naked in public for one day?
- Cheat on your partner and get away with it, or have everyone think you cheated when you didn't?
- French kiss a man for two minutes or be celibate for a year?
/Quentin

Dear Quentin
My, that's a long one! Let's see, shall we, how this goes:
~ If you'd asked me five years ago, I would have said marry someone I didn't love; as of a year ago, I'd come to the conclusion that watching the love of my life marry someone else would be easier to handle (at least, I was resigned to it). At the moment, though... I'd really prefer to do neither, thank you. Not just me who'd be hurt, y'see.
~ Oh, darn. Hm. No offense to my darling cousin Dora, but I think Animagus.
~ I think have to tell them that I was — after all, it's not like I could be any more of a disappointment to them. And in all honesty, I really don't need to know that kind of thing about them — especially not my mother, the only one still alive.
~ Strip in front of everyone. My body's not going to embarrass me!
~ Never talk. Not that I like lying, or do it a lot, but sometimes there are just things I *don't* want to say to people.
~ Never wear shoes. I like magic.
~ I would say have my date throw up on me, but then they wouldn't be able to tell the story at parties, so throw up on my date. (I'm generous.)
~ Walk around naked in public! Not that I have anything against pink, or would mind wearing it for a short period of time, but I am not giving up my blue jeans or my black leather, thank you very much.
~ Have everyone think I cheated when I didn't. I would know the truth, that I was innocent, and that would have to be enough. (Well, as long as the person I cheated on wasn't included in the "everyone", anyway.)
~ Pssh, this is the easiest question of them all. Snog a man, all the way. Heh.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
My wife and I have such differing sleeping schedules and it's really affecting our marriage! I start work at 7 am every weekday, which means I have to be asleep by 10 or I'm dead at work. My wife, however, works 10 am - 8 pm Tuesday through Sunday, and isn't in bed until the wee hours. I never get a chance to see her, AND she wakes me up when she comes to bed (and vice versa, when I get up)! What should we do?
/Tired and Alone

Dear Alone,
Get new jobs. Or else start anticipating those little sleeping interruptions and make the most of them, since apparently they're inevitable anyway.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you know of any spells to unhook bras? Because I'm just rubbish at it and it's cost me three perfectly good girlfriends and I'm sick of it.
/Bryn

Dear Bryn
Sadly, I never did find a good spell for that. If you really can't master the skill, and it keeps costing you girlfriends, maybe you should start dating blokes; most of them don't wear bras.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I have a friend who's really scared of metal cutlery. Isn't this the weirdest phobia ever?
/Sane

Dear Sane,
Not at all. I once met a girl who was absolutely TERRIFIED of the colour purple. And at least your friend's phobia has nothing to do with socks.
Sirius

Residence of Lily Evans and Remus Lupin
26 July 1984
6.33 pm

Looking rather like he might be sick on his shoes, James raises his arm to knock on the door... and then lets it drop again.

He paces a little before taking a deep breath and trying again. This time he does manage to rap on the door — weakly, but audiably.

"Yes?" calls a slightly strained voice from within.

"Evans?"

"Potter?" the voice replies, sounding a little surprised. Then, "It's open, come in."

James enters, one hand firmly planted in his hair. "Hello?"

"In here," Lily calls from the living room.

"Is, er, is Remus here?"

Curled in an armchair with her arms around her middle, Lily shakes her head without looking up at James. "No. He's at his parents'."

"Oh," James says, looking oddly relieved. "Why aren't you there?"

"I'm sick."

"You don't look very sick," James says, frowning at her.

Lily lifts her head and raises her eyebrows at James. "I'm... girl sick, Potter."

"Girl si— oh."

"Yeah." Lily drops her head back.

James makes a face, running his hand through his hair again. "Listen, I, er, wanted to talk to you."

"Okay..." After a moment, Lily uncoils one hand from around herself and gestures toward the sofa. "Have a seat."

Sitting down at the very edge, James clears his throat. "Evans," he begins. "Er, Lily."

Lily lifts her head again and stares at him a little oddly. "Er, yes?"

"Lily," James repeats, his left hand firmly planted in his hair. "I, er, was wondering."

Lily looks a little confused. "Wondering?" she repeats.

"If, er, you'd."

"If I'd...?" she questions, still giving him that look like maybe he's going to tell her there's a pink elephant in the room.

James takes a deep breath. "If you'd be my date to the Quidditch annual."

"... what?" Lily looks honestly surprised.

"It's next Friday."

"I know when it is," she assures him, staring.

"Oh," is James's eloquent reply. He has gone rather pale, and is tapping his fingers on his leg restlessly.

Lily just keeps staring. "Why are you asking me?" she demands, after a moment.

"Er," says James, looking rather panicked by now. "I tried to ask Clee and Chris and Ivy, but —"

"... Why?"

"... because we're required to bring a date?"

"But we're all women," protests Lily.

James blinks. "Yes...?"

"Don't you have a boyfriend?"

"Well, er, yes...?"

Lily shakes her head, looking confused despite the spasm of pain that crosses her face briefly and causes her to tighten her arms around her midriff. "Why'd Sirius turn you down?"

James blinks. "I didn't ask Sirius." His voice is small, but maybe a bit defensive.

Lily blinks, looking incredulous. "You asked all those women but you didn't ask your boyfriend?"

"I don't — people don't know," James mumbles.

"So tell them," she responds in a practical tone, still looking quite disbelieving. "Tell them, and take Sirius."

James opens his mouth as if to protest. Nothing comes out.

"Problem solved," Lily goes on, as if it's the simplest thing ever. "That's one of the nice things about having a boyfriend."

"... oh."

"... you didn't think about this at all, did you, Potter?"

"I — you know what?" James says, suddenly looking a lot less nervous. "You're right."

Lily grins at him palely. "You shouldn't sound so surprised."

"But you're right," James repeats. "I don't want to take you."

"Well, thanks," says Lily, rolling her eyes but still grinning.

"Not you you," clarifies James. "You, the collective you."

"You, women you?"

"You, anyone who's not Sirius, you."

Lily's grin gets a little softer. "Smart you, Potter, you."

James stands up, brushing himself off. "If he turns me down, will you be my backup?"

"No." She shakes her head. "But I'm sure Remus will let you sleep on our couch."

"You're so generous and kind, Evans."

"You're so daft and silly, Potter."

James winks at her. "Feel better."

"Thanks." Lily leans her head back and closes her eyes, settling deeper into her chair. "Good luck with the boyfriend you've been ignoring."

"Cheers," James grins as he Disapparates.

Lounging in the living room with his feet on the coffee table, Sirius looks up from the paper he's reading as James appears. "How'd it go with the troll, then?"

His earlier grin nowhere in sight, James shoves his hands into his pockets. "Er. Well. I didn't... I didn't really ask her."

"You didn't? Why not?" Sirius asks, raising one eyebrow.

"I was going to, I mean, I kind of did, but she..." James breaks off, one of his hands wandering from his pocket to his hair. "I can't do this anymore, Si."

Sirius looks confused for a moment. "Wha—" he starts to say, but then stops and pales, his eyes widening. The newspaper crackles sharply, and he quickly drops it in his lap.

James, however, doesn't even seem to notice. "I don't want to take some fake date to the annual. I want —"

Sirius's mouth opens and closes a couple of times before he finds his voice and interrupts, rather hoarsely, "Of— of course you wouldn't."

"— I want to take you."

Sirius's mouth opens again, but this time it stays that way. "You..." he mumbles after a moment, still wide-eyed and pale-faced, sounding a bit bewildered.

"I mean," James hurries to add, finally noticing Sirius's confusion, "I understand if you're not ready to tell all our peers and well, the world really, but as Evans pointed out, you are my boyfriend and I really ought to ask you before I ask every woman I know —"

"You want to take me?" demands Sirius, in an even hoarser voice.

"Yeah," James nods, ignoring whatever else he was going to say. "If you want to come."

"James—" Whatever else Sirius was going to say catches in his throat.

"... you don't have to," James says, completely misinterpretating his tone of voice. "I mean, it's all right."

"No." Sirius shakes his head sharply. "No, I—"

Flashing him a rather weak grin, James shakes his head. "It's all right. At least I've asked, yeah?"

"No," protests Sirius, suddenly shoving the paper from his lap and standing. "I, I will— But I thought you didn't want to take me."

James gapes at him. "What made you — " He breaks off. "Oh."

Sirius just stands there, his rather too-bright eyes on James, and stares back at him.

"I didn't think," James admits, in half a voice. "But of course I want to take you."

Sirius stares for another half a second, then steps forward and says in something of a rush, "James... James, all of my friends know already."

"But you co-workers don't," James argues half-heartedly. "Your readers don't." He pauses. "Your family doesn't."

"Most of my co-workers think we've been shagging each other for years," corrects Sirius. "My readers don't even know me." He takes another step forward. "And you are my family."

James's mouth forms an 'o'. No sound comes out.

"You are everything, love," Sirius adds, in a whisper, looking earnest and bewildered. "Why would you think I wouldn't want to go with you? That I wouldn't want to tell everyone?"

"... please stop before I embarrass myself."

"James..." Sirius shrugs helplessly, the expression on his face as intense as that in his voice. "... Of course I'll go to the annual with you."

James grins, somewhat shakily. "Yeah?"

Sirius smiles slightly. "You really think I'd wait seven years for someone who I wasn't going to let take me out in public?"

"Apparently," James says, taking a step closer to him, "it's what boyfriends are for."

"Did you just work that out now?" asks Sirius, lifting a hand to wind in James's hair.

"Give me a break," James mutters. "You're the first one I've had, you know."

Sirius's smile brightens a watt or two. "Yeah, but this is hardly the first time you've been one..."

"And look how well I did those times."

"You might have done better," Sirius murmurs, drawing James's head forward 'til their lips are almost touching, "if you hadn't let your best friend be mean all the time."

"I might have done better, had I not preferred my best friend to all of them," James whispers back.

"I'm glad you did," and Sirius kisses him.

James kisses him back, then pulls back slightly, smiling softly. "So, it's a date?"

"Yes," nods Sirius. "Good thing I'm free, right?"

"Boyfriends don't date other people," James points out.

Sirius's brows arch. "But they can non-date?"

"If they make it up to their boyfriends."

"Oh, I like that." Sirius drops a kiss at the corner of James's mouth, then moves to drop one on the side of his neck. "There are other things a boyfriend is for, you know..."

"Oh yeah?" James asks, tilting his head back a little. "Like what?"

"Well..." The hand not in James's hair goes to his waist, pulling him forward so his hips meet Sirius's. "Getting rid of this."

"In a pleasant way, I should hope," James replies, grinning. "Or d'you want me to get ice cubes?"

"Stop being clever," complains Sirius, against James's neck. "Use that mouth for something else."

"Like an apology?"

"No." Sirius lifts his head. "Like this," and he kisses James again.

Friday, 27 July 1984

Dear Sirius,
Don't you think today's young generation is just out of control? They're loud and promiscuous and rude to their elders. Have you noticed this? I say bring back the Cruciatus as a parental tool. Anyone in favour?
/Ellerie

Dear Ellerie,
... Ouch. Ma'am, while I may agree that the youth of today lack a certain something when it comes to respect — which youth always do, because they're youth — I'd have to disagree bringing the Cruciatus back into vogue. It's just a little too... mean for my tastes.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I am currently dating two different women (shut up) and they're very different. One of them is really funny and smart and great, and I love spending time with her, but the physical aspect of our relationship is just... bad. The other girl, on the other hand, is as dumb as a doornail but amazing in bed. It's getting to the point where I'm really worried they'll find out about each other, so I'm thinking I should probably choose one to stick with. Which one would you pick in my situation, and why?
/Greg

Dear Stupidhead,
So, essentially, you're choosing between great sex, and a great person? Seriously, mate — even I don't think sex is that important.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
My sister recently told me something very disturbing. According to her, women hardly ever wear matching underwear! Surely she can't be correct? All the ladies I've seen in pictures and Muggle television have had on knickers that matched their brassieres. What is the truth, here?
/Unbelieving

Dear Unbeliever,
Almost all of the women I've ever seen practically-starkers were wearing matching underwear... but since most of them were, er, expecting me to be, er, inspecting it, the matchingness was probably deliberate. I don't think I'm really qualified to speculate on whether women usually — meaning other than when they've got dates with me — dress like that, but I would imagine it must be really annoying, to always go matching knickers to bra all the time.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
What one thing in your life would you find the hardest to give up?
/Chocoholic

Dear Chocoholic,
James.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I am going to Hogwarts this September and I am really scared. Do they really make you fight a troll to sort you? And stick you in Hufflepuff if you don't do well? Also, my brothers say that all the first years have to sleep on the floor. Why?
/Patrick

Dear Pat,
No need to be scared mate; it's Hogwarts! They only make the really big lads fight trolls, and you only go in Hufflepuff if you take the troll's side. Also, I think the only house where the first years have to sleep on floor is Slytherin... In Gryffindor they give you really cool four-poster beds.
Sirius

Dear Sirius (44/52)

Wed, 22 Apr 2009 19:26:08 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius (part 44/52)
Author: duva & fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: Humor/Romance
Chapter Word Count: ~3800
Status: Complete
Chapter Rating: PG-13/T, for innuendo, language, and objectionable content, like Sirius telling someone to stop following Quidditch.
Spoilers: Uh, not really. It's so ridiculously AU that it kinda becomes almost completely unspoilerific.
Pairing: James/Sirius
Warnings: AU. Language, innuendo.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Summary: Thrice weekly in the Evening Prophet's entertainment section, Sirius Black answers all your questions, from the mundane to the complicated to the just plain weird.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine A, Chapter Nine B, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine, Chapter Thirty, Chapter Thirty-One, Chapter Thirty-Two, Chapter Thirty-Three, Chapter Thirty-Four, Chapter Thirty-Five, Chapter Thirty-Six, Chapter Thirty-Seven, Chapter Thirty-Eight, Chapter Thirty-Nine, Chapter Forty, Chapter Forty-One, Chapter Forty-Two, Chapter Forty-Three
Notes: Most of the important backstory for this — where it differs from canon, anyway — can be found in the newspaper collage at the beginning of the first chapter, but if you're still confused about something, please ask. If you missed any chapters, just follow the above links to get caught up. Remember to comment if you enjoyed this! And we're still taking suggestions for questions from Sirius's readers — can you think of something you'd like to ask Sirius? — so go ahead and comment with those, too!

Monday, 16 July 1984

Dear Sirius,
What do you think about women with loads of muscles? Who is the fittest lady you know?
/P.J.

Dear P.J.,
I like women with muscles as much as women without them, really! As for the fittest... I think I'd have to say my James has a couple of women on his team who are quite, quite fit. Christine Davenport, for example, is very attractive but could still probably almost beat me in an arm wrestling match, and charming little Cliodhna O'Brian pushes around men twice her size — I should know, I've seen her do it to her brother.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
How do you make boys notice you? I'm in my fourth year and I have a huge crush on a boy who is in my house but in seventh year. I don't think he even knows I exist. What should I do to get his attention?
/Stina

Dear Stina,
Don't you reckon a seventh year might be a bit old for you? In any event, I think males of that age generally only notice breasts, so unless you've a very nice pair of those, you're probably out of luck for a while yet. If you're still determined, however, or you want to try your luck with someone a bit closer to your own age, I suggest smiling. And being nice. The boys who know what's good for them will go for that — and the boys who don't go for it are probably not worth it... yet, anyway. Good luck with your manhunt!
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I have a step brother and he is very nice but my mother is always giving away my things to him without asking me first. I don't like this very much. Mum says I need to stop being a baby and need to learn how to share. Do you think she's right?
/Em

Dear M,
No, absolutely I do not. Giving your things to him, without your permission is not evidence that you "need to learn how to share", it's proof that your mother needs to learn how not to. That she is your mother doesn't automatically afford her the right to go redistributing your possessions willy-nilly without consulting you first. You're not in the wrong for not liking such behaviour; she is, for using it to begin with — not to mention then trying to make it seem like you are at fault. It's unjust and inappropriate.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you reckon it's dangerous eating too many bananas? Like, fifteen a meal, three times a day? My tummy feels a bit strange.
/Monkey Man

Dear Tail-y,
I dunno about "dangerous", but it's probably not healthy, even though bananas ARE pretty good for you. Maybe you should try limiting yourself to, say, one per meal.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I am really, really, really (I mean really!) attracted to my husband's best friend. I would never act on it, as I'm very much in love with my husband and I don't even care that much for his friend -- I just like looking at him. (He is very, very fit. Very.) Is this wrong? And if so, is there anything I can do about it?
/Wandering eye

Dear Wandering,
Well, on the one hand, I'm firmly of the opinion that there's nothing wrong with a healthy aesthetic appreciation for the very, very fit around oneself... I also think that lusting after one's husband's best friend is a bit wrong. (And something that I would never, ever do.) Maybe you ought to concentrate on spending more time doing things with hubby dearest?
Sirius

Wednesday, 18 July 1984

Dear Sirius,
I think girls are quite icky and disgusting and gross. Do I really have to marry one when I grow up?
/Archie, aged 8

Dear Archie,
No, not if you don't want to, though you might eventually change your mind about them — you could marry a boy, instead.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I have THE biggest crush on a Quidditch star and it's really... well, destroying my life. I can't date anyone else because they just don't measure up to this player I like, and I have a very slim chance of ever meeting said player, let alone dating them. Is there anything I can do to get over this unhealthy obsession?
/Fan

Dear Fan,
I dunno. Dig up really horrible, unflattering dirt on said player? Stop watching Quidditch?
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I really hate my accent. Is there any way I could change it without sounding like a complete stuck up prig?
/Mumbley

Dear Mumble,
Maybe start out small, only change a few little things, until everyone who knows you is used to it, then change a little more... and so on and so forth until you're speaking the way you want to. Though, hopefully not like a stuck up prig.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
What is the last thing you do before sleep?
/Johnnie

Dear Johnny,
Usually, make a satisfied noise and feel very, very grateful.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
My wife and I are getting divorced, but we haven't told anyone yet. The problem is that I am really fond of her family, and especially her father. Is there any way I can break the news to them without completeley alienating them? I'd really like to maintain a relationship with them -- they are, after all, my children's flesh and blood. Please advice!
/Danny

Dear Dan,
Sounds a bit tricky. Probably you should be straight-forward about it, and explain to them what you just explained to me — and maybe see if you can get your wife to put in a word for you. After all, it's not like you hate each other, right?
Sirius

Friday, 20 July 1984

Dear Sirius,
I am really, really desperate to lose weight. My husband has all but said he'll leave me unless I shed some fat, and I really don't want that to happen. However, nothing I try works! Do you think there's some sort of potion you can drink that's slightly corrosive or something? I'm ready to try anything and everything!
/Flabby

Dear Flabster momma,
Uh, I don't think slightly corrosive potions would do anything but put you in a great deal of pain. Try catching stomach flu, instead. Or stop eating entirely and go out running every day.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I think I'm starting to develop feelings for a coworker of mine -- the thing is, said coworker is a man. I have never in my life been attracted to males before; in fact I've had loads of girlfriends and have even been married once. What do you think this means? Is it a midlife crisis? Brain tumor? And what do I do about it?
/Confused

Dear Confused,
It's not a midlife crisis, a brain tumor, or anything else of such an alarmist, negative nature. It means you're attracted to a man. It's not the end of the world, you know.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I think you seem really cool and awesome and I was wondering if you'd want to be my friend? I never really hear you mention mates other than your roommate and everyone needs variation. What sort of traits do you look for in a mate?
/Richard

Dear Dick,
Oh, ouch; you've probably just put me in the figurative doghouse with Remus (another male mate of mine) for, oh, the next two decades. He's going to think I neglect him on purpose. Closed-mindedness makes me angry. Ahem. By preference, my friends are intelligent, loyal, kind and... open-minded. Also, it helps if they find me amusing. As for your other question, well, believe it or not, I'm fairly well satisfied with my friends (not all female) as they are. I don't think a person necessarily needs many... quality over quantity, you know.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
when do you reckon a child is old enough to get their first broomstick? My husband and I have very varying opinions on the matter.
/Polly's mother

Dear Pollymum,
About one year, I reckon. The sooner you get them on the broomstick, the more likely they are to fall off— I mean, get used to hanging on.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I have been terribly in love with the same person -- a friend of mine -- for about three years now, but nothing has come of it. I'm too scared to let my feelings out in the open without being sure that they'll be returned. Lately I've been despairing that it's just never going to happen, and nothing will ever come of this. What should I do? Is three years too long, and should I just try to get over it and move on with my life and find love somewhere else?
/Party of one

Dear One,
Sometimes, getting over it isn't as easy as going out and trying. Not to mention that while putting yourself out there for rejection is hard — really, really, indescribably hard — giving up on something you want can be harder. And if you think about it, three years in the entire lifespan of a wizarding person is... not exactly all that long. Not when there could be something amazing waiting for you at the end of three more. Besides, you've already got someone to love; why do you need someone else?
Sirius

Residence of Sirius Black and James Potter
21 July 1984
2.13 pm

Dressed very inconspicuously in tight, bright pink shorts and a white t-shirt missing roughly half of the standard material (most of it from the bottom portion), Ivy sprints up the walk, her ponytail bouncing, to knock cheerfully on the front door.

A few moments later, the door swings open to reveal a rather confused-looking James. "Er. Hello."

Ivy stares at him for approximately three-eighths of a second, before her eyes light up and she more or less flings her self at him, shrieking "James Potter! Oh, oh, oh, HELLO!"

James backs up in horror, throwing his arms up and out. "Miss?"

"No, Ivy," she corrects, stepping back with her hands still on his shoulders. She beams at him.

"Ivy," James echoes, before his eyes widen. "Ivy! Si's Ivy!"

This description of herself makes Ivy beam even more. "I see why he likes you so much," she declares, and then leans to one side and peers past James into the house.

"I was afraid you were a rabid fan," James explains, leaning over so that he's blocking her view of the house. "He's not here."

Ivy leans back on her heels and peers up at him, a feat which would have been easier if she wasn't almost eye-level to begin with. "He isn't?"

"He's at Andromeda's," James says. "His cousin."

"His cousin," repeats Ivy, a little like she's trying to make it sound like a dirty word, but then she frowns. "I thought he doesn't like his cousins."

"He likes this one," explains James. "Er. Should I ask him to Floo you?"

"No," Ivy says, with a small shake of her head that somehow sends her ponytail bouncing again. She pauses a moment, then, "What about Alec?"

James blinks. "Alec?"

Ivy nods, looking rather hopeful. "Yes, Alec. You do know Alec...?"

"Alec Harrigan?" James repeats, looking more confused than ever. "My accountant?"

Some of his confusion seeps into Ivy's hopeful. She blinks at him. "I thought he was Sirius's."

"He is," says James, crossing his arms over his chest. "And mine. .... why are you asking about him?"

"I was wondering if he was here."

"Uh, no." James pauses for a second, then lights up. "Hey! You're a girl!"

All of the hopeful disappears and Ivy looks completely confused. "Uh, yes..."

"D'you wanna come to the Quidditch annual with me?"

Ivy stares at him. James bounces on his heels a bit.

After staring at him for another moment, Ivy asks, "... do I get my threeway if I say yes?"

"Excuse me?!"

"Sirius said I couldn't sleep with you because you're not interested in threesomes," Ivy explains reasonably. "But if you're asking me out—"

"No!" James exclaims, looking completely flabbergasted. "I'm not — no!"

"Oh. All right." Ivy looks only marginally deflated. "I didn't really think you would. Sirius probably wouldn't share, anyway."

"No, he wouldn't!" James says, his voice rather shrill. "Why would we —"

"Which is a pity, since you're both seriously fit," Ivy says just a bit sadly, and then something seems to occur to her, and she exclaims, "Wait, did you really just ask me out?"

"We're b— yes, yes I did," James nods. "August third. A Friday."

"Oh." Ivy sighs. "I can't."

James's face falls.

"I have a date with Alec," Ivy supplies, almost consolingly.

"... excuse me?"

"Only he doesn't know yet," she adds judiciously.

James blinks. And blinks. "I'm sorry; would you like to come inside and explain that statement?"

"Sure," and Ivy beams at him again.

James steps away from the doorway, and Ivy moves past him into the hall, then on into the living room. "You have a very nice sofa," she tells him.

"It is, rather," James agrees, following her. "Now explain why you're dating my accountant."

"Oh, I'm not," corrects Ivy, taking a seat at one end of the rather very nice sofa.

"... then why can't you come to the annual with me?" asks James, as he sits down in the not-so-nice manky old armchair.

"Because it's on my birthday and I want to be dating your accountant." She smiles at him. "I just need Sirius to tell him."

"Oh."

Ivy looks at him apologetically.

James looks very, very disappointed. "I'll just have to... ask someone else, I guess."

"I'm sure you'll have better luck nex—" Ivy starts to say, but then she cuts herself off suddenly and looks at James like she's just realised what they're talking about.

"I wouldn't count on it," James mutters.

"Why are you looking for a date?" demands Ivy, ignoring him. "Are you trying to cheat on Sirius? Because I thought you were cool and that is very not cool."

James's jaw drops. "Of course I'm not!"

"Oh, good. I figured you wouldn't, really." Ivy grins. "Who would cheat on Sirius?"

Still looking rather bewildered, James shakes his head. "No, that's why I asked."

"Why you asked what?"

"Why I asked you."

Ivy frowns, slightly. "But you didn't know about the threeway until I told you. Did you?"

"No, I —" James breaks off, shaking his head again. "I need to have a date for the annual. I don't want to ask anyone who thinks it's a date date."

"Oh." Ivy pauses thoughtfully. "Did the werewolf say you couldn't borrow the Muggleborn?"

".... just exactly what has he been telling you?!"

"He doesn't tell me anything," she says, a bit defensively. "I've never met him."

James blinks. "I'm referring to Sirius."

"Oh." Ivy blinks too, then, "You mean his best friends aren't a Muggleborn, a werewolf and a bloodtraitor?"

"Oi!"

"Not that I think that's a bad thing," Ivy adds hurriedly, seeing the look on his face. "Sometimes Sirius's life just seems too interesting."

Shaking his head again, James chuckles. "She's my, er, last resort."

"Why? Is she scary?"

"I... don't really have the best track record when it comes to asking her out."

Ivy's eyes widen and she sits up a little straighter. "You mean you've asked her out before?"

"It was a long time ago," James mutters.

"She turned you down?"

"Brutally."

Ivy grins. "Oh, I hope Sirius tells me how it goes when you ask her this time."

"You really are a Slytherin, aren't you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

James grins. Ivy looks very pleased with herself.

"So," James says after a moment, "I think he'll be a while. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Well." Ivy considers for a moment, then sighs. "Actually, I should probably finish my jog and get home. Mother said she's probably dropping in today."

"Oh, you were jogging?"

"It was more like walking fast, really, but Sirius said jogging sounds better."

"I think that's his definition of jogging," James says, laughing. "Well, if you change your mind..."

"I won't, but if I did I'd let you know," she assures him, getting to her feet.

"I appreciate it."

"Good luck." Ivy grins at him. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too," James says, running a hand through his hair. "Let me walk you to the door."

"Sure," says Ivy, leading the way into the hall.

"You should stop by sometime," James adds as he holds the door open for her. "Sometime when we're both here."

Eyes lighting up, Ivy's grin widens. "That would be fun."

"Maybe we could, er, invite Alec too."

Almost out the door, Ivy pauses and peers curiously at him. "Is Alec often here?"

James gives her a wry grin. "Is four times a year often?"

"Oh." Ivy looks a little disappointed. "No, that isn't often."

"I'll have Si look into it," James promises.

"Thank you," replies Ivy, practically beaming again. "But now I really have to run. I mean, walk fast."

"Have fun."

Waving, Ivy gives him a last grin and then sets off briskly down the walk.

_____

Later, the front door bangs against the wall of the hall as Sirius's voice calls out, "Honey, I'm home!"

"Hey," James replies, appearing in the doorway to the kitchen. "How's Andromeda?"

"Going crazy," answers Sirius, slipping out of his shoes. "Dora keeps unpacking her things."

"Whatever for?" asks James, walking closer to him. "I thought the little munchkin was excited to go on holiday."

Sirius nods, walking to meet James and reaching out to pull him in for a quick kiss. "She is," he says. "She keeps thinking she's forgot things."

"They're going to the beach," James chuckles. "What could she forget, her spade and bucket?"

"Honestly? I didn't ask."

"A good thing too, or you might be there still," says James, walking back into the kitchen. "Your girlfriend stopped by while you were out."

"What?" Sirius asks, following him. "My who?"

"Tall girl. Skimpy outfit. Very pink."

"Oh, you mean Ivy."

"Ivy," James nods. "She's, er, special."

"That's one way of putting it," agrees Sirius with a laugh, sitting on the edge of the table. "Did she say what she wanted?"

"Our accountant."

Sirius blinks. Then he laughs. "She's not very subtle."

"Not very," James agrees. "She turned me down, too."

"Er..." Sirius raises his eyebrows. "Come again, love?"

James grins in a rather obnoxious way. "Later."

Sirius grins back, but shakes his head. "What are you talking about, she turned you down? You didn't ask her to the Quidditch annual, did you?"

"Of course I did!"

Sirius shakes his head again, his grin getting faint. "So why did she turn you down?"

"Why, you find that unthinkable?" James asks, winking at him. "I'm irresistible, and all?"

"Except to your female teammates, apparently," shoots back Sirius, looking almost amused.

"They don't count."

"Why not?"

"I'm telling you, Chris wanted to say yes," is James's reply. "And Ivy said no because she wants to be shagging Alec." He wrinkles his nose. "Am I missing something about him?"

Sirius blinks again. "She told you she said no because she wants to be shagging Alec?"

"In so many words." James sighs. "I guess I'll just have to face the angry troll."

"Do we know an angry troll?"

"The angry, redheaded, I-hate-it-when-James-asks-me-out troll," James clarifies.

Sirius stares at him for a moment. "You asked her out one time, James."

"And look how well that went!"

"Yes, well, you're not going to hang Snivellus upside down in front of her before you ask this time, are you?" asks Sirius, dryly.

James furrows his brow. "D'you reckon I'd have more luck if I did?"

Sirius frowns as if thinking the question over.

Sighing, James shakes his head. "I was really hoping I wouldn't have to ask her, y'know."

Sirius nods. "I know." He pauses, and grins a little. "At least you don't have to ask her right away, though. You've got a few weeks."

"Two!"

"Well, that's better than two days," Sirius replies, shrugging slightly.

James shrugs. "I wish we didn't have to bring a stupid date."

"It can't be that bad, love."

"Hah!"

"It's not like you ever used to have trouble," Sirius points out.

"That's when I was motivated," James mutters. "And not asking out Evans."

Sirius raises an eyebrow. "You know," he says off-handedly, "Lils is quite darling. Really."

"You've never asked her out."

"I've never wanted to."

"I don't want to," James says, sighing once more. Then, after a pause, "Didn't you just promise me something?"

Sirius's eyes darken almost immediately. "Did I?" he asks, far too casually.

"I do believe you did."

"Well, I don't go back on a promise, so..." Sirius pauses, to smile wickedly. "Come again upstairs?"

"Now we're talking," James says, his grin matching Sirius's. "After you."

"Yes, that's always how it seems to happen," mutters Sirius, as he heads out of the room.

Dear Sirius (43/52)

Wed, 15 Apr 2009 19:53:51 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius (part 43/52)
Author: duva & fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: Humor/Romance
Chapter Word Count: ~2730
Status: Complete
Chapter Rating: PG-13/T, for innuendo, language, and objectionable content, like Sirius and purple crushed velvet.
Spoilers: Uh, not really. It's so ridiculously AU that it kinda becomes almost completely unspoilerific.
Pairing: James/Sirius
Warnings: AU. Language, innuendo.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Summary: Thrice weekly in the Evening Prophet's entertainment section, Sirius Black answers all your questions, from the mundane to the complicated to the just plain weird.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine A, Chapter Nine B, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine, Chapter Thirty, Chapter Thirty-One, Chapter Thirty-Two, Chapter Thirty-Three, Chapter Thirty-Four, Chapter Thirty-Five, Chapter Thirty-Six, Chapter Thirty-Seven, Chapter Thirty-Eight, Chapter Thirty-Nine, Chapter Forty, Chapter Forty-One, Chapter Forty-Two
Notes: Most of the important backstory for this — where it differs from canon, anyway — can be found in the newspaper collage at the beginning of the first chapter, but if you're still confused about something, please ask. If you missed any chapters, just follow the above links to get caught up. Remember to comment if you enjoyed this! And we're still taking suggestions for questions from Sirius's readers — can you think of something you'd like to ask Sirius? — so go ahead and comment with those, too!

Monday, 9 July 1984

Dear Sirius,
Is it unmanly for a bloke to be on a diet? I've gotten a bit pudgy but I really can't be bothered to work out. Is eating salads just too girly to be all right?
/Stevie

Dear Stevie,
Why would eating salads be girly? That's like saying that eating steaks is too manly for women. What ridiculousness. Good food is good food — and being pudgy is too big a price to pay for a little bit of food-related pride.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
My 11-year old twins are due to start school in the autumn and their father and I can't seem to agree on where to send them. I'm pushing for Hogwarts, for obvious reasons, but my husband really wants to send them to Durmstrang. He went to Hogwarts too so he has no good reason for this! How can I make him see that his viewpoint is, well, wrong?
/Annoyed wife and mother

Dear Annoyed,
Good grief, why would anyone even want to send their children to Durmstrang? Not only do they probably actually teach Dark Arts there, but you'd be sending your children far away to a foreign country, a place where people probably barely speak English (if they speak it at all), without their friends or anything. Not to mention, as you and your husband went to Hogwarts, they've probably been hearing about it their whole lives — it would be cruel to deprive them of finally getting to go. Tell your husband he's a bonehead and you're children are going to Hogwarts like all good British witches and wizards should.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I really hate my boyfriend's hairdo. How can I let him know without hurting his feelings?
/Sonica

Dear Sonica,
"Baby, don't you think it'd be neat if you did [insert preferred style modification here] with your hair?"
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I've just come to the realisation that I much prefer hanging out with my best friend than spending time with my significant other. What do you reckon this means?
/Conflicted

Dear Conflicted,
I reckon it means you ought to think about splitting up with your rather insignificant other; proper significant others should at least equal your mates in the "want to be around" department.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you have any really bizarre fears or phobias?
/Karl

Dear Karl,
Well, seeing certain people bleed makes me a bit deranged. Other than that, um... extremely large felines?
Sirius

Wednesday, 11 July 1984

Dear Sirius,
Have you ever used a Time Turner? If not, and you were offered the possibility, what moment would you revisit and why?
/Ellie

Dear Ellie,
I never have, but I think that if I could, I'd... I'd want to go back and relive the evening of November 19th, last year. Or maybe the morning following it...
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Are there any good potions for combatting BO? I have this horrible feeling I stink and everyone's just too polite to tell me!
/Bob

Dear Bob,
It's called soap, lad.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Lately I've been thinking that I'd really like it if my husband and I could have an open relationship. I have no idea how to bring this up, however. My sister says that any man would jump at the chance, but since I'm not a man I thought I'd ask you, because well, you are. If your significant other told you they wanted an open relationship, would you be happy? Why, or why not?
/Gretchen

Dear Gretchen,
Well, I don't know if this is typical for all men, but I would certainly not be happy if my significant other said such a thing; I do not want to share. Then again, I suppose it must depend on the significant other in question... maybe your husband would appreciate it. The only way to know is to ask!
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I think my teenaged son has been stealing from me! Whenever he's been home over the holidays lately I've noticed money missing from my purse. How can I bring this up with him without him feeling as though I'm accusing him?
/Bereft

Dear Bereft,
What do you mean, without him feeling as though you're accusing him? You are accusing him. If you don't want to tell him you think he's been stealing from you, don't — but don't try and pretend that isn't what you're doing. As your son's apparent behaviour demonstrates by its absence, honesty is important. Extremely important.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I recently heard a rumour that you like to wear purple crushed velvet and fur trimmed smoking jackets, matched with fob watches. Is this really true?
/Steve K

Dear Steve K,
That I... what? Purple crushed velvet and fur trim?! That's... that's just disturbing. I would never let my good taste slip that far — not even dead!
Sirius

Portree, Isle of Skye, Scotland
12 July 1984
3.06 pm

"And then I said, 'Pat,' I said, and he was all, 'I don't have time for this, Clee,' like can you believe that?" Cliodhna asks, holding the door open for the taller woman next to her. "The nerve of him!"

"I heard brothers were like that," Christine remarks, with a sage nod. "But I don't have any so I just get rolled eyes and this look that you'd normally save for a pair of really old shoes."

"Oh, he'll do that t— Merlin and Agrippa!" Cliodhna exclaims, clutching at her chest as they walk around a corner and nearly crash into James. "What the hell, Potter?"

"James!" Christine squeaks, and then gives him the old-shoe look. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you," James says, taking a step backwards. "You took longer than usual."

"Why?" asks Christine, rather surprised.

"I dunno, did you shower for once?"

Christine stares, and turns rather red. "Oi!"

"Anyway," James says, ignoring her reaction, "I wanted to talk to you ladies."

"I should hope that's what you want to do," Christine grumbles, glaring at him. "What with sneaking up on us, and all."

"Aye," Cliodhna agrees. "You gave me a right heart attack, mate!"

"I said I was sorry!" James shoots back, planting his hands somewhat awkwardly in his pockets. "You, er, you know the Quidditch annual is coming up, yeah?"

Christine glances at Cliodhna. "Of course," she says, losing her glare and smiling slightly. "I've bought my robes already."

"Oh." James deflates somewhat as Cliodhna nods in agreement. "So, um, I suppose you both have found dates already, then."

Christine's face turns red again. "... Why?"

"'Cause I haven't," James mumbles, staring at his feet and looking more awkward than ever. "And I was wondering."

Cliodhna looks like she might burst out laughing.

"You... haven't got a date?" repeats Christine. She looks rather amazed.

"Yeah. No."

"But— How?"

"What d'you mean, how?" James asks, a little sharply. "I just don't!"

A small giggle escapes Cliodhna's lips.

"Er." Christine blinks rapidly for a moment, then turns urgent eyes on her friend, as if looking for help explaining herself. "I just, um, would have thought, you know, that you'd, well, not— Um."

"Look, Chris, I haven't even asked anyone," James says, glaring at Cliodhna. "Stop laughing."

"Oh." This seems to make much more sense to Christine, for she nods slightly. "Okay."

"Sorry," Cliodhna manages to get out, without laughing too much. "Been booked up for ages."

James sighs. "Chris?"

Christine glances at Cliodhna again, now wide-eyed and disappointed. "I'm sorry," she says after a brief pause, and she really sounds it. "I promised one of my sisters that I'd take this friend of hers, and it'd be really rude to pull out of it now—"

"Damn it!"

"Er," says Christine again, looking rather unhappy. "I'm sorry?"

James grunts in reply.

"Why, er," Cliodhna asks, rather timidly, "did you want to take one of us anyway?"

Christine nods, looking very interested in his answer.

"I didn't," James mumbles.

"... excuse me?"

"I didn't!" repeats James, glaring half-heartedly at Christine. "I wanted a non-date and you two seemed like a safe bet."

Christine opens her mouth indignantly.

"That's charming," Cliodhna points out.

Christine closes her mouth, looking thoughtful. Then she laughs. "Oh, James," and laughs again.

"What?"

"This is priceless!"

"What is?" James asks, looking quite put out. "What're you laughing at?"

"James Potter can't get a date!"

"I can too get a date!" James says, his cheeks darkening. "That is not what I said!"

"But you haven't got one," Christine points out, sounding rather gleeful. "If you can get one, why haven't you got one?"

"I don't want one!"

"Even with all your groupies, you can't— Wait, what?"

"I said," James says, glaring more than ever at Cliodhna, who by now has given up pretending not to laugh, "that I don't want a date."

"... well that's just ridiculous," declares Christine, who has stopped laughing and is looking rather shocked.

"Why?"

"Why isn't it?" she crosses her arms. "Who doesn't want a date?!"

"I don't, I want a fake date so people will think I have one!" James says, flailing his arms a little. "What's so weird about that?!"

"Why do you want people to think you've got one if you haven't got one?"

James all but rolls his eyes. "'Cause it's mandatory to bring one."

"I'm sure you could just tell them 'Oh, I'm sorry, I'm single and I forgot I have rabid fans,'" Christine declares, with a small frown.

"That's not how it works, Chris."

"Fine." She uncrosses her arms and plants her hands on her hips. "Well, why don't you ask that redhead, then?"

"Who, Evans?" James looks rather incredulous. "The one who's all but married to one of my best mates?"

Christine shrugs. "It sounded better than suggesting your mother."

"Oi!"

"Don't give me that look, you're the crazy person who doesn't want a proper date!"

"Who're you calling crazy?" James shoots back.

"Enough," Cliodhna cuts in sharply. "James. Christine."

Christine's sheepish expression would not be out of place on a six-year old child. "Sorry," she mumbles. James mutters something incomprehensible, then sighs.

"What was that?" asks Christine.

"I said, are you sure you can't help me out?"

"I'd like to," Christine says, maybe a little too quickly. Then she frowns. "Only I did promise."

James sighs again. "Thanks anyway. ... Clee?"

"I've got a date," Cliodhna says, looking rather pleased with herself. "An actual one, as opposed to the two of you!"

Christine gives her a dirty look. Cliodhna ignores it.

James gives her a pleading look. "Can you cancel?"

"James, I am not cancelling on him for you," Cliodhna says with a roll of her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous."

"This one isn't related to our coach," explains Christine.

"Not even by marriage!"

"They don't even like the same kind of cheese," Christine adds.

"... that's... great," James says, shaking his head. "So. No chance at all?" He turns to Christine. "What if I pay the guy off?"

Christine stares at him. "You're so desperate you'd pay off my not-date so I can be your not-date?"

"I am not desperate!"

"Then why are you offering to pay off my date?!"

"Because I don't want to have to ask Evans!" James says, then looks like he rather wishes he hadn't.

Christine frowns at him. "Why don't you just find a real date? I'm sure someone would like to get asked out by you."

"Because I'm — " James pauses. "I just don't want a real date, all right?"

"All right," says Christine, still frowning like she thinks he's mental.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, though."

Cliodhna pats his arm. "Better luck next time."

"Even if you are cracked," Christine agrees, patting his other arm.

"Yes, well," James mutters. "I've got to go home and come up with a plan B."

"Don't hurt yourself," says Christine, starting to grin.

James mumbles something that sounds suspicously like "Evans might," before Disapparating without as much as a wave.

Cliodhna looks at the empty air where he just stood. "Well."

"That was odd."

"He finally asked you out and you said no."

Christine stares at her friend for a moment. She scowls lightly. "... oh, shut it."

Cliodhna nearly smirks. "After all the whining and pining —"

"I was never pining," protests Christine, loudly.

"You were too," insists the shorter woman. "Remember last summer when he showed up to practice in that sleeveless thing?"

"That wasn't pining!" Christine insists. "That was lusting."

"Lusting, pining, whatever," Cliodhna says with a shrug. "You still turned him down, and you'll still have to take Ludlow Harper instead."

Christine grits her teeth. "I promised my sister."

Cliodhna pats her arm. "I know, hun. Better luck next year."

"I really wish I could hit you sometimes," mutters Christine, heading for the door.

"Too bad you need me to win games," Cliodhna agrees. "So. Dinner?"

"Yes," Christine nods. "But you are so paying."

Friday, 13 July 1984

Dear Sirius,
My now ex-boyfriend and I used to take a lot of, er, intimate pictures. Now that we're broken up I'm very uncomfortable with him still having copies of these, but when I asked him to give them to me he laughed at me and told me they were his property! What can I do to make him hand them over?
/Nudie

Dear Nudie,
This is a situation where having magic comes in handy. Break into his place, Stun him, and search until you find and destroy all of the pictures — unless you don't mind you still having copies, in which case just keep them. (Don't forget the negatives, though, either way.)
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Have you ever heard of the game "Two truths and a lie"? I think it would be brilliant if you'd have a go and let your readers play!
/Quizzie

Dear Quizzie,
I have, indeed. What an excellent suggestion! Here you go, then:
~ I was nineteen when I lost my virginity.
~ I once beat up a female. With my fists, not magic.
~ I have frequent, vicious, bloody nightmares that make me cry.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
If you got to pick the line-up for the English national team, who would be on it and why?
/Keeley

Dear Keeley,
I'd take Harvey Mellow (last seen Keeping for the Appleby Arrows, though it's rumoured the Wanderers are after him) because though he's not flashy or prone to brilliant saves, he's solid and only let through 15% of all goal shots made against him last season. I'd also take Puddlemere United's Beaters (Dave and Peter Martin) because they work together like one person on two brooms, Holyhead's Seeker (Liza Parker) because she's fab and not Irish like certain other fab people I could mention. For Chasers I'd take Montrose Magpies' Kendra Daniels and Caerphilly Catapults' Roger Lazenby, because they're both top-notch players who seem to work well with anyone they're paired with, and James Potter, because he's... James Potter.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
What was the first bit of magic you ever performed?
/Annie

Dear Annie,
Accidental magic? I set my uncle's hair on fire. He was thrilled.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you know how the Aeroplane works? It's sort of like the Knight Bus, right, only in the air? My daughter needs to go to Spain and I want to go to Norway, and we don't enjoy Portkeys. How long do you reckon it would take by the Aeroplane? And is there a specific way of flagging the Aeroplane down? My daughter reckons we ought to stand on the roof when doing it, but I'm uncertain. Thanks for your advice!
/Della

PS: How does the Aeroplane stay in the air, if not by magic?

Dear Della,
I'm fairly certain that an Aeroplane is not, in fact, like the Knight Bus, only in the air. You don't flag it down; you go to an Air-Port and buy a ticket and get on the Aeroplane and then it goes to another Air-Port and you get off, and if you're not in the place you want to be, you buy another ticket and get on a different Aeroplane. I think going to Spain or Norway might take a couple of hours, but I'm not the best person to be asking, as I've never been on an Aeroplane.
Sirius

PS: I don't know. It's probably got something to do with Physics, the Muggle kind of magic.

Dear Sirius (42/52)

Wed, 08 Apr 2009 20:24:33 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius (part 42/52)
Author: duva & fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: Humor/Romance
Chapter Word Count: ~4500
Status: Complete
Chapter Rating: NC-17/MA, for explicit sexual content, innuendo, language, and objectionable content, like Sirius talking about rumours.
Spoilers: Uh, not really. It's so ridiculously AU that it kinda becomes almost completely unspoilerific.
Pairing: James/Sirius
Warnings: AU. Explicit sexual content, language, innuendo. Soap.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Summary: Thrice weekly in the Evening Prophet's entertainment section, Sirius Black answers all your questions, from the mundane to the complicated to the just plain weird.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine A, Chapter Nine B, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine, Chapter Thirty, Chapter Thirty-One, Chapter Thirty-Two, Chapter Thirty-Three, Chapter Thirty-Four, Chapter Thirty-Five, Chapter Thirty-Six, Chapter Thirty-Seven, Chapter Thirty-Eight, Chapter Thirty-Nine, Chapter Forty, Chapter Forty-One
Notes: Most of the important backstory for this — where it differs from canon, anyway — can be found in the newspaper collage at the beginning of the first chapter, but if you're still confused about something, please ask. If you missed any chapters, just follow the above links to get caught up. Remember to comment if you enjoyed this! And we're still taking suggestions for questions from Sirius's readers — can you think of something you'd like to ask Sirius? — so go ahead and comment with those, too!

The Authoresses would like to wish everyone a very happy Easter this coming Sunday. (fictionalcandie dares everyone to not eat their chocolate bunnies ears-first — plus she thinks she's probably going to hell for this being the almost-Easter chapter.)

Monday, 2 July 1984

Dear Sirius,
My five-year old was recently told a bedtime story featuring Inferi by his (very irresponsible!) godfather, and now he's terrified to go to sleep. What can I say to make him get over this fear?
/Sleep-deprived

Dear Sleepy,
Tell him that the Inferi his godfather talked about are on his side, and much stronger than any other Inferi out there, so he doesn't need to worry about them.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Is it true that women sometimes fake you-know-what?! How are you supposed to tell?
/Panicked

Dear Panicked,
Not being a woman, I can't say absolutely — but yes, I heard that they do. I'm... not sure how you tell. I mean, it's not like with a man, where it's kind of... obvious. Maybe you should ask a woman?
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I really don't get along with my sister and it's driving me insane. We were always at odds and ends growing up but I thought it'd get better now that we're adults, but it hasn't at all! If anything, it's worse than ever! I really want our children to grow up knowing their cousins -- how can I make her see we need to make an effort? And how can I stop from wanting to strangle her all the time?!
/Peace yearner

Dear Peace
I'm not really the best person to be asking about how to not want to strangle your siblings, never having quite got over that urge myself. I would probably recommend deep, calming breaths and some kind of "She's my sister, she's my sister, must not kill" mantra. Maybe try saying to her what you've just said to me. Plus, you know, some nice descriptive anecdotes about the awesomeness of cousins. (I'd help with those, only it'd be rather dishonest of me.)
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Is it true that James Potter is getting married to Délphine Demereaux of the Quiberon Quafflepunchers and moving to France? How about the rumour that she is already carrying his child?
/Not R.S.

Dear Not,
What? Of course it's not true! None of it! That's just ridiculous. I don't think James and ms Demereaux have ever even spoken. Where do you hear this rubbish?!
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
What is the worst rumour you have ever heard about yourself? And out of the things written about you, roughly how much of it is actually true?
/Logan

Dear Logan,
I think it was the one about how I kill puppies all the time. Or the one about being a Death Eater spy. Hm. Probably definitely that one, actually. Regardless, like 80% of the things I hear about me, neither of those were true.
Sirius

Wednesday, 4 July 1984

Dear Sirius,
Ninjas or pirates?
/Viking

Dear Viking,
Samurai. Or samurai-pirates. Or Quidditch-playing-pirates.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I recently started dating this very suave and intellectual woman, and it's great. However there is one little problem: she loves red wine. I can't stand red wine. I've been forcing it down as to not seem like an uncultured slob, but I still find it disgusting! Is there anything I can do to make it more appealing to my palate?
/Not a wino

Dear Non-wino,
Hm. I think you're approaching this issue from the wrong direction. Instead of trying to figure out how to make yourself like something you detest, you should be trying to think of a simple, straightforward way of telling this very suave and intellectual woman that, unfortunately, her drink of choice is not also your drink of choice. Don't worry; this is not a stumbling block for most relationships between intelligent people.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Is it true that you can get pregnant from swallowing you-know-what?
/Fretting

Dear Fretting,
I, um, really don't think it works that way. I mean, that doesn't even make sense...
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
My child has the worst morning temperament ever -- and I mean ever. He'll try to hit me when I wake him up, throw his pillows or anything else he can reach at me, latch onto the bedding and refuse to let go... and that's before he even gets out of his bed; let's not even talk about breakfast! What can I do to stop this horrible behaviour?
/Punchbag mama

Dear Punchmama,
Hm. Tell him he gets nothing for breakfast — or at least, nothing yummy — until he stops being such a bear.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Have you ever had a go at driving a car? If so, what was it like?
/Gerald

Dear Gerald,
I did, once, but it was so traumatic an experience that I got James to Obliviate me. Well, I tried to. Anyway, it did not go well. The cows didn't think so, either.
Sirius

Friday, 6 July 1984

Dear Sirius,
I think I am being stalked by Dark wizards, but all of my Sneakoscopes, Foeglasses etc are saying I'm fine! How can I get them to work? I mean, just last week my milk bottles moved several inches on their own between my going to work and coming back in the evening -- it's got to be someone out for me! Is there something more reliable out there?
/Doomed

Dear Doomed,
Anti-anxiety pills. And spending less time measuring the location of your milk bottles.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I think there is something wrong with my libido. I just want to get it on with everyone I meet! The other day I found myself lusting after my best mate's 60-year old mother -- this can't be normal!! What should I do?
/Horndog

Dear Horndog,
Stop wanking so much and get a girlfriend. Not your best mate's 60-year old mother.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
As a sports reporter, do you get invited to the British and Irish Quidditch League Annual Dinner? If so, I think you should hold a contest where the prize is to be your date!
/Ella

PS: Who is James going with?

Dear Ella,
Unfortunately, no, I do not, as there's still one sports journalist on staff above me. You're welcome to suggest that a contest be held with being his date as the prize, of course, but not only is he over fifty, his wife's a Quidditch junkie and she might not appreciate not getting to go.
Sirius

PS: I have no idea. Actually, I don't think he has any idea yet, either.

Dear Sirius,
My ex-husband and I were divorced last year, and he is now living with another man. Our two children (aged 7 and 9) live with me and have yet to meet their father's new partner. How can I prepare them for their first encounter with him? I don't even know where to begin!
/Confused

Dear Confused,
What's wrong with just telling them their daddy has a boyfriend? It seems fairly simple to me...
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
My best friend and I recently had a huge row and we haven't talked since then. I am ready to put it all behind me but I don't know where to begin! How do I take the first step towards making up? Did you and James ever get into a really bad row? Please help!
/Lonely

Dear Lonely,
James and I have fought, of course — we are males — but we've only had a really bad row, of the kind you're talking about here, a few times (literally; I can count them on one hand without making use of my thumb). Furthermore, I've been fortunate enough that I've never gone very long without speaking to him. It seems to me, though, that the first step to moving past such a huge fight is rather straightforward — you go to them and tell them that you don't like fighting with them and you want to move past it and you're sorry. At least, I hope you remember to tell them that you're sorry...
Sirius

WARNING: NC-17/MA content below.

Residence of Sirius Black and James Potter
6 July 1984
5.28 pm

"... noooo, you'll just have to waaaaaaaaaaaait..."

The sound of James's warbling is somewhat muffled by the noise of running water. Sirius pauses in the doorway to the bathroom, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "Well, this is ironic..." he mutters.

"I keep WAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIITING —"

Shaking his head slightly, Sirius continues over to the shower, sliding in to join James. "Hi."

"My mama said — shit!"

James jumps, stray shampoo suds flying from his hair to the wall as he turns around.

"I've never heard your mama say that," says Sirius with a smirk.

"Yes, well, you've obviously never been around before my nana was coming around," James says, clutching at his heart. "Trying to kill me, Si?"

Sirius's smirk doesn't move. He reaches out to pull James's hand from his chest, replacing it with his own. "Maybe just your singing..."

"Could have fooled me," James mutters.

"Did you have to pick that song?" Sirius inquires, ignoring James's words and leaning in to nuzzle his slightly soapy neck.

"Did you have to listen to me sing?"

"Kind of hard to avoid," Sirius mutters against his skin.

"Yes, well," James mumbles back, "maybe if you didn't stalk me in the shower..."

Sirius freezes for a moment. "But I like stalking you in the shower," he whispers eventually, sounding slightly guilty.

James grins, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. "I'm in a hurry, you know."

Sirius gives a whiny little growl. "Why?"

"Chris's birthday party, remember?"

"So you're rushing out on a naked me because of the Quidwitch?"

"Don't call her that," James says, half-heartedly. "And besides, what would I tell her?"

"'Sorry'?" Sirius suggests, pouting.

"Not a very good excuse," James says, shaking his head before ducking under the spray to rinse out his hair. "Might wanna keep that in mind."

"Well, what's wrong with 'Something came up'?" demands Sirius, no longer pouting as his eyes are too busy staring at James's freshly wet hair.

"And when they ask me what, exactly, what do I tell them?" James asks, smirking at the look on Sirius's face. "'My boyfriend accosted me in the shower'?"

Blinking most of the lust out of his eyes, Sirius stares a moment. "... I was thinking you could say 'I did' but 'My boyfriend' works too."

"Does your mind ever crawl out of the gutter?" James asks, his amused tone betraying his words.

"Only when it wants a shower with its boyfriend."

James just looks at him questioningly.

"It likes showers with its boyfriend," Sirius says helpfully, beginning to smirk again.

"I got that part," James says, a small, puzzled frown between his eyebrows. "I'm just confused about why you're looking at me like that."

Sirius promptly attempts to look innocent, but it's rather hard to pull that off when half his face is already set to 'wolfish' and has no plans to switch any time soon. "What, can't a man look at his boyfriend?"

".... add confusion about why you keep repeating that word."

"You started it," Sirius declares cheerily, as wolfish takes over his face entirely.

"I said it on—" James breaks off, comprehension dawning on his face. "Oh."

"Bit slow, aren't you?"

Looking slightly embarrassed, James puts a hand at Sirius's side. "Well. ... you are, aren't you."

Still smiling, Sirius arches a brow. "Slow?" he asks. He moves so his hips press against James's, his erection obvious. "I don't think so."

"How about annoying?" James suggests.

Sirius laughs and nuzzles James's neck. "Of course I am, love."

James makes a small noise of agreement. "D'you mind, then?"

"Mind what, exactly?"

"Y'know," James says, his other hand sliding up Sirius's back to the nape of his back. "Me calling you that."

Leaning back slightly into James's hand, Sirius asks, "Why would I?"

"I dunno, it's a bit..."

"A bit what?"

"Flaming?" suggests James.

Sirius laughs again. "So?" he demands teasingly. "A little thing like that's supposed to bother me?"

James grins slightly. "What're you calling little, eh?"

"Not you, certainly."

"Damn straight." To illustrate his point, James presses his hips closer to Sirius's. Sirius moans a little, moving to James's arse to hold him in place, their cocks rubbing together. "I guess," James half-whispers, "that I'm gonna be late for that party after all."

"You never really had a chance," agrees Sirius, smugly, grinding his hips forward gently.

James's head dips back slightly. "You're an evil bastard, you know that?"

"Are you complaining?" grins Sirius, leaning forward to lick James's collarbone. "Mm, taste like soap."

"Evil and greedy and... delicious."

"You're delicious," Sirius retorts, grazing the hard shoulder with his teeth as his hips rock forward again.

"It's all relative," James replies, his head falling back further. "Si?"

Sirius's mouth is still busy exploring the other man's freshly-washed skin. "Mm?"

"Why haven't you kissed me yet?"

"M'mouth is busy..."

Having none of it, James slides a hand into Sirius's hair, yanking his head up until their lips collide. Sirius mumbles something that gets lost in the friction, then slips his tongue into James's mouth to reacquaint himself with it, too. James's reaction is to push forwards even more with his hips, until Sirius's back collides with the shower wall.

The tiles are a cold shock after the warmth of the water against his skin, and Sirius hisses in surprise. "James..."

"What?"

"I haven't cleaned off yet."

"Oh." Looking oddly delighted, James leans back a little. "We can fix that."

Eyes half-lidded and breathing a bit heavy, Sirius stares at him and murmurs, "Yeah?"

"Uh-huh," James mumbles back, reaching out and grabbing the bottle of shampoo. "See?"

"Indeed." Sirius lets his wolfish grin back out, bending his head forward a little, to make it easier for James to reach. "Go on then."

James dumps a liberal amount on the crown of Sirius's head, reaching up with both hands to work up a lather.

Sirius's eyes drift almost all the way closed. He gives a low, humming growl and leans his head into James's ministrations. His cock twitches against James.

"You have the weirdest kinks, you know that?" James mumbles, his hands working slowly at Sirius's scalp.

"Mm, 've no idea what you're on about," mumbles Sirius, his voice lower than usual.

"Uh-huh."

Sirius arches his neck. "What's weird about this?"

"Soapy," is James's rather less-than-eloquent reply. "Rinse."

"You'll have to let me away from the wall."

James takes a small step backwards. Sirius edges around him, taking care that their bodies touch whenever possible, to stick his head under the water.

"You'll get bubbles in your eyes like that."

In response, Sirius closes his eyes and tips his head back.

"Better," James chuckles, stroking through the now almost sud-free strands. "Now soap."

"Can I open my eyes again?" asks Sirius, mostly jokingly.

"Unless you want me to wash your eyebrows."

Sirius smirks, his eyelids lifting. "That won't be necessary."

James grins back at him. "Keep them open, then."

"If they're open, I can watch you wash me..."

"... seriously, Si, weird kinks."

Sirius raises both his brows. "This from the man who wouldn't let me touch my cock at all and made me come all over the sheets anyway?" he asks innocently.

"That's just talent," James whispers, a very cocky look on his face.

"That's bossy," counters Sirius, voice husky, catching James by the hips and pulling him forward to kiss.

"Mm," James mumbles when he pulls back slightly a few moments later, "and you don't like bossy, is that right?"

"Did I say that?"

"I think that was the gist of it..."

Smirking, Sirius says nothing, but reaches for the soap and passes it to James.

James takes it, not taking his eyes off Sirius. "Where should I begin?"

Sirius spreads his arms a little, invitingly. "Wherever you like."

Teasingly, James places his hands just south of Sirius's armpits, tickling a little. Sirius squirms a bit, pouting.

"James."

"Hmm?"

"Don't."

"If you say so," James replies, his hands sliding down the other man's sides, stopping at his hips. "Boyfriend."

Sirius tips his head back to rest on the wall. "Boyfriend," he repeats, grinning. His cock twitches again.

"'S what you are, isn't it?"

Sirius just grins more widely.

"Mine," James clarifies in a whisper.

"Yours," Sirius replies firmly, his hips moving forward as if seeking James's.

James groans, his hands sliding down and around to Sirius's buttocks. "You still want a wash?"

Sirius considers for half a moment, then shakes his head. "After," he suggests.

"After," James agrees, leaning in to kiss him again.

Moaning, Sirius tangles his hands in James's hair, pressing their mouths together hard.

"Can't believe we've never done this before," James mumbles against his lips.

"Considering how long it took you to let us do it on the sofa," Sirius says, "I can."

"Yeah," James agrees, with a small forward thrust of his hips, "but this is much easier to clean."

Sirius's reply is a groan and a thrust of his own that makes their erections slide deliciously against each other.

James's lips trail across Sirius's cheek, nuzzling his ear, before moving down his neck.

"Fuck," Sirius moans, arching his hips up desperately. In response, James's hands tighten on his arse. Sirius's hips arch forward again as the rest of his body quivers, once.

"Yeah," James moans, his tounge lapping once, twice at Sirius's jugular. "What d'you wanna do, Si?"

"Ah—" Sirius shudders again, his voice catching. "I dunno."

"Don't know?"

"So many choices," explains Sirius, one of his hands moving from James's hair, down his shoulder to his back.

James chuckles, before biting down on Sirius's neck gently. "Indeed."

"Shit."

"You're so easy," James whispers.

"So—" Sirius croaks. His voice is unsteady, so he clears his throat before continuing. "So I have a little fetish."

"I think I'd noticed," James murmurs, repeating his earlier motions.

"Love," groans Sirius, as his body jerks and his erection rubs James's harder, "I'd really prefer you to fuck me before I come."

James gives a low chuckle, then groans. "Is there anything in here —"

Sirius shakes his head. "I dunno."

"Think," James orders, his mouth still on the other man's neck.

Sirius moans. "How'm I supposed to do that, with you doing that?"

Grudgingly, James pulls his head back a little. "There. Think. Baby oil, lotion... hair gel?"

"Why would we have baby oil?" scoffs Sirius, looking around.

"Could come in handy," James replies, as he traces the seam between Sirius's buttocks with one fingertip. "In moments like these."

"Not like we've had a lot of those." Sirius frowns slightly. "How far away's your wand?"

"Bedroom."

Sirius groans. "That's unhelpful."

"Where's yours?" James counters, pushing forwards with his hips again.

"Counter by the sink." The words are growled more than spoken, and his eyes have gone glassy.

"I knew I should have learned wandless magic," James groans, taking a tiny step back. "Don't go anywhere."

Sirius gives James a very flat look. "Yeah, that was the first thing I was gonna do."

"Just making sure," James mumbles, pressing a final kiss to Sirius's lips before slipping out of the shower. Sirius leans against the wall, hands now pressed to the cool tile near his hips, his cock thrusting hard and prominent, dripping water.

James retuns less than half a minute later, his hair wilder than ever and a bottle in his hand.

"Took you long enough," accuses Sirius, his hands immediately returning to the other man's body.

"Yeah, well, someone closed the door behind them," James accuses right back.

"Habit," shrugs Sirius.

"Doesn't matter," James mumbles, stepping close to Sirius once more and pressing his lips to those of the other man.

Sirius devours his mouth, hand reaching for the bottle in James's. James surrenders it willingly.

"Going to use this?" Sirius asks, opening it one handed.

"Yeah," James breathes.

Sirius hands it back, open now. "Good."

James kisses him once more, rather breathlessly, running his hands down Sirius's sides again. "Turn around."

Shuddering, Sirius turns, bracing himself with his hands back on the wall.

James wastes no time, sliding a finger into him almost instantly. Breath catching, Sirius bucks his hips backward into James's hand. Leaning in, James runs his lips across the back of Sirius's neck.

Sirius swears under his breath. "Come on," he pleads.

"Yes," James agrees, adding a second finger. "Spread your legs a bit, Si."

Shifting his feet, Sirius does as he's told, spreading them until his body is a few inches lower. Groaning in response, James removes his hand, positioning himself behind Sirius.

Craning to shoot a begging look over his shoulder, Sirius pushes his arse against James's cock.

"Yes", says James again, pushing in slowly. "Oh —"

"Goddamn," gasps Sirius involuntarily, voice all rough and desperate with pleasure.

"Sorry," James gasps as his movements forces Sirius's cheek against the wall. "Sorry, sorry —"

"Shut up," Sirius growls, thrusting back against James. "Just— shut up!"

James complies, his left hand snaking around a hip, wrapping around the other man's cock. Sirius moans and his body jerks. He doesn't seem to know whether to push himself back on James's cock, or forward into his hand.

Meanwhile, James's lips have found the back of Sirius's neck once more. In response, Sirius's muscles clench around James.

"I won't — if you do that," James says, low and breathless.

"Can't— help it," growls Sirius. "I'm—"

"What, you're what?"

"—so close."

"What, now?" James growls, the movement of his hips speeding up a little. "Merlin —"

"I'm sorry," says Sirius, around a weakly suppressed shudder. "Only— you were so— And I can't—"

James shakes his head, lips still pressed against the back of Sirius's neck as he speeds his hand up further. "It's all right, it's -— oh, fuck — let go."

Sirius shakes his head too, tightly, his whole body stiff with tension. "But you—"

"I'm right behind you, Si," James whispers, his mouth close to Sirius's ear. "Let go for me."

Sirius gasps, James's cock hitting just exactly the right spot as his words penetrate the lusty fog in Sirius's brain. "James," deep and needy, and he shatters.

"That's it," James groans, slowing his movements as Sirius recovers. "So gorgeous —"

"Don't," protests Sirius, trying somewhat limply to rock back against James so he doesn't slow down. "Please."

"Just a second —"

"Please," Sirius repeats, deliberately tightening his muscles. "I want you—"

James moans, loudly and drawn out, as his hips slam forwards again.

Sirius makes a low, satisfied sound.

"Shit," James gasps, "shit, you feel amazing, Si —"

Sirius clenches his muscles just like before and pushes back again, with more energy this time.

"Again, Sirius."

Sirius obeys, moaning the other man's name. James's fingernails dig into Sirius's hips, pressing tiny crescents into the skin there. "Sirius," he gasps out as he comes, "Sirius, Si —"

Sirius moans again, shuddering slightly.

James leans heavily against his back. "Shit, but you're easy."

"Only for you," Sirius retorts in a mumble, slumped against the now-warm tiles. "I think I've a weakness for you in the shower."

"Weird kinks," James mumbles back, nipping at Sirius's neck again.

Sirius rolls his eyes a bit. "Like you didn't get off on it too."

"Like you didn't notice I did."

"Maybe I didn't," teases Sirius, with a smirk. "Would you give me an instant replay?"

James laughs. "Glad to hear you think so highly of me."

"Yes, well, I'm not the one whose party you're late for."

"Mm," James agrees as he pulls out. "Better not tell Chris it was your fault."

Sirius makes a small disappointed noise at James's withdrawal. He turns around, but stays slumped against the wall. "Why not?"

"She'll forgive me."

"It's not my fault your Quidwitches are jealous of me."

"Yet another reason not to tell her," James laughs, pulling at Sirius's shoulder. "C'mere."

"But she might like the story," says Sirius, leaning away from the wall and into James. "It does involve you naked."

"Somehow I don't think shower sex is really her thing."

Sirius raises his eyebrows. "How would you know?"

"Don't tell her I told you," James says, lowering his voice to a whisper, "but she skips after-practice showers."

"... you pay attention to that?" asks Sirius dubiously.

"Cliodhna was complaining about the smell."

"... the pixie pays attention to that?"

"She's a woman, isn't she?" James asks, grabbing the soap.

"Actually, I have a theory about that—"

Starting to wash Sirius's neck and shoulders, James says, "Do share."

"Her dad slept with a very pretty house elf," Sirius declares solemnly, tilting his head back. "She's the result."

"Oi!"

"And that brother of hers?" Sirius goes on.

"Now he might be jealous," James mutters as his hands travel to Sirius's chest. "What about him?"

"His mum slept with Hagrid," Sirius replies matter-of-factly, with a low hum.

James pauses for a moment, then breaks out laughing. Sirius smirks.

"You sure you don't wanna come with me?" James asks, still laughing. "I'll miss you, you know."

Sirius's smirk turns into a warm grin. "You think that Chris'd forgive you?"

"They don't really hate you, Si," says James, rolling his eyes a little.

"They seem to..."

"They just have a bit of trouble with... separating work-you from you-you."

Sirius frowns slightly. "... you just sounded like me. I have no idea what that was supposed to mean."

"What, you understand me better than you understand yourself?" James asks. "Turn around."

"I understand you better than I understand you-being-me," corrects Sirius, moving so James can wash his back.

Scrubbing at his back, James shoves a little, pushing Sirius under the spray. "There. All done."

"Not doing my legs?" pouts Sirius, shaking his body in a very dog-like fashion to encourage the rinsing process. "And you still haven't told me what you meant."

"If I bend down that far I won't get up again," James says, stepping closer to Sirius once more. "You know you haven't always said the nicest things about them as Quidditch players, don't you?"

Smirking at the innuendo, Sirius reaches up to push his wet hair from his face. "Well, they haven't always been the nicest Quidditch players, have they? I mean, Cliodhna did lose you that game last season..."

"That's the sort of thing I'm talking about."

"Hm." Sirius pauses for a moment. "Maybe you ought to write in pretending to be a fanboy so that I can talk about what awesome people they are."

James grins. "Maybe I will."

"Then I could come to their parties with you," adds Sirius, grinning now. "And add to my collection!"

"I'll work on it," James promises, pressing a quick kiss to Sirius's lips. "But now I'm really late."

"What are you still doing in here, then?" laughs Sirius, pushing him out of the shower. "Get a move on!"

"Don't waste all the hot water."

"Go, love!"

Pressing one final, lingering kiss to Sirius's lips, James does.

Dear Sirius (41/52)

Wed, 01 Apr 2009 21:26:12 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius (part 41/52)
Author: duva & fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: Humor/Romance
Chapter Word Count: ~2950
Status: Complete
Chapter Rating: PG-13/T, for innuendo, language, and objectionable content, like Sirius using the term "man-style" in perfect... seriousness.
Spoilers: Uh, not really. It's so ridiculously AU that it kinda becomes almost completely unspoilerific.
Pairing: James/Sirius
Warnings: AU. Language, innuendo, implied goats.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Summary: Thrice weekly in the Evening Prophet's entertainment section, Sirius Black answers all your questions, from the mundane to the complicated to the just plain weird.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine A, Chapter Nine B, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine, Chapter Thirty, Chapter Thirty-One, Chapter Thirty-Two, Chapter Thirty-Three, Chapter Thirty-Four, Chapter Thirty-Five, Chapter Thirty-Six, Chapter Thirty-Seven, Chapter Thirty-Eight, Chapter Thirty-Nine, Chapter Forty
Notes: Most of the important backstory for this — where it differs from canon, anyway — can be found in the newspaper collage at the beginning of the first chapter, but if you're still confused about something, please ask. If you missed any chapters, just follow the above links to get caught up. Remember to comment if you enjoyed this! And we're still taking suggestions for questions from Sirius's readers — can you think of something you'd like to ask Sirius? — so go ahead and comment with those, too!

The Authoresses know that today is April Fool's Day, but it's not their fault it landed on a Wednesday, and this is a real chapter. No, really.

Monday, 25 June 1984

Dear Sirius,
I have stick-straight hair and my sister has honest-to-Merlin corkscrew curls. Ever since we were little, aunts and grandmothers and what have you have been telling her how lucky she is for having such beautiful hair... and then they follow up by looking at me with pity in their eyes, telling me maybe mine will curl as I get older! How can I make them understand this is hurtful to me? (Not to mention ridiculous, as I am 18 years old -- I think my hair curling hopes are long dead and gone!)
/Straighty

Dear Straight,
Give a frustrated huff and demand, in a very chilly voice, just why the hell they'd think you'd want curly hair. Seeing as how it attracts so much unnecessary attention and insensitive favouritism, and all that...
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I think my mother drinks too much Firewhiskey. Yesterday she forgot to make me and my brothers dinner. What should I do?
/Daniella, aged 10

Dear Dani,
Oh, dear! That is a problem. Um... dump all her Firewhiskey down the drain. And complain to your daddy — or your grandparents.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
How do you hide the fact that you're starting to get desperate for a mate? I think my vibes are scaring off any potential partners!
/Despot

Dear Despot,
You could practice trying to convince yourself that you AREN'T desperate? Spend at least a half an hour every day telling yourself that you don't need a partner to complete yourself. It might not work so well, as far as being true goes, but it should help you calm down a bit.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
If Helen's a perfect girl, and you're a perfect bloke, who don't you two go out?
/Matchmaker

Dear Matchmaker,
Now, whoever said I was a perfect bloke? Regardless, I don't recall either of us asking the other.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I have a really serious problem. My girlfriend keeps punching me, and I don't know how to make it stop! People always think I'm joking when I tell them this, and I think it has to do with the fact that I am 6'2" and my girlfriend is 5'3". I realise it might sound ridiculous, but she leaves bruises! What do I do?
/Punching bag

Dear Punching bag,
If your positions were reversed, my suggestion would be to hit back... but since that's clearly not an option here, I would settle for threatening her with a Stunning spell for every time she hits you. And maybe try talking to her and trying to convince her that this kind of behaviour is really unacceptable.
Sirius

Imogen Potter's Residence
Minehead, Somerset
27 June 1984
3.17 pm

"All right, ladies," Imogen calls over the soft hum of her friends' conversation as she re-enters her living room, a large plate piled high with biscuits floating in front of her raised wand. "This is the last batch, and I promised Sirius some, so don't eat them all. They are his favourite."

The frailest, eldest-looking lady smacks her lips. "How is the dear boy, Imogen?"

"He was promoted," Imogen announces, beaming with pride, as she sets the plate on the table between the four witches.

"I read something about that," says a rather plump, rosy-cheeked old woman with impossibly not-gray hair. She is also beaming, though there's a tiny frown line between her eyes. "I just wish I understood that nonsense he writes about."

"Which part would that be, Greta?" the first woman asks. "The Quidditch, or the silly questions?"

"The Quidditch, Juniper," Greta replies, with a sad sigh. "I don't know how many times he's tried to explain it to me, but it's all just silliness."

"You're just hopeless, Greta," says the fourth, a blonde-turned-ash mop of hair framing her rather thin face. "Even I get it, and I'd never heard of the thing before I went to school."

"You were less distracted by Sirius grinning at you, Cathy," Imogen points out tartly.

Greta's already pink cheeks get a little pinker, but she laughs. "That boy of yours grins so well..."

"Speaking of boys," Juniper interrupts, rather loudly, "has that godson of mine found himself a suitable young lass to wed yet?"

Imogen stares at her friend for a moment, and then begins giggling.

"Did I say something funny?" asks Juniper, giving the other two a puzzled look.

Greta looks equally confused. "No, I don't think so..."

"I'm sorry," Imogen manages through her giggles, pressing the fingers of one hand to her mouth. "It's just— if Sirius heard you call him that—"

Juniper blinks. "No, dear, I'm talking about James. Your son."

"I know that," replies Imogen, still giggling. "But the sweet little lass—"

Catherine's eyebrows disappear under her hair.

Imogen doesn't seem to notice as she finishes, "I don't think even Sirius would know what to say to that!"

Juniper tugs on Greta's sleeve. "What is she talking about, dear?"

"I'm not sure," says Greta, frowning a little and grabbing a cookie as if eating it will make things clear to her. "She seems to think you called Sirius a lass. And he is very pretty, but not—"

"What are you trying to tell us here, Imogen?" interrupts Catherine, rather brusquely.

"Oh, dear," murmurs Imogen, looking around at her friends as her giggles finally subside.

Greta looks faintly alarmed. "... Sirius isn't really a girl, is he?"

"No!" A stray giggle escapes Imogen. "No, he's not, but he and James—"

Catherine chokes on her biscuit.

"Oh." Greta relaxes, and reaches for another cookie. "That's all right, then."

"Imogen," Catherine says, "are you implying what I think you are?"

Imogen slowly lowers her hand. "If you think I'm implying that my son and Sirius are together," she says, smiling and taking a biscuit.

Catherine says nothing, her lips narrowing into a thin line.

Greta considers this announcement for a moment, then sighs. "All that gorgeousness, wasted on another man."

Juniper peers up at Imogen. "That's all very lovely, but I'm still waiting for an answer, dear."

"No sweet little lass," Imogen declares, not at all apologetically, still smiling.

"What she's saying, Juniper," Catherine says, rather coldly, "is that her son and his best friend are induldging in..." she pauses, her lips thinning even further. "Homosexual behaviour."

Imogen's smile withers at Catherine's tone. "I wouldn't put it quite like that."

"How would you put it?"

"They're in love," Imogen says calmly, a bit of a glint entering her eyes.

"Well, good on Jimmy!" Juniper exclaims, slamming her teacup down on the table. "Quite a catch, that boy is!!"

"Yes," agrees Greta, just a little wistfully. "So pretty..."

"Greta!" Catherine exclaims. "Please!"

Greta blinks at her. "Well, he is," she insists.

"You could be his grandmother!"

"Oh, piffle," the other woman huffs, waving two biscuit-filled hands dismissively. "Doesn't mean I haven't got eyes."

"Yes, well," Catherine mutters, "not that it'd do you any good even if you were fifty years younger."

Greta flushes and glares, but stuffs biscuit in her mouth instead of saying anything.

"Catherine, that was uncalled for," Imogen declares, the glint in her eyes more pronounced.

"But you just said —"

"That's not the point."

"I think it's sweet," Juniper announces, twice as loudly as anyone else. "Just darling."

"The boys?" asks Greta, as if she could possibly talking about anything else.

"Quite," says Juniper, even louder than before. "So shut it, Catherine."

Catherine flushes.

Imogen just raises her eyebrows and asks, sweetly, "More tea?"

"Please," Catherine mumbles.

While Imogen refills Catherine's cup, Greta gives her a sideways look. She nibbles another biscuit, and then announces, "I should have them for tea."

"Tea?" Juniper echoes. "I'd like more tea."

Imogen refills her cup, as well.

"Tea and cake," Greta continues, thoughtfully. "Cake will get Sirius to come over."

"Are you really going to bribe a twenty-year old boy to come over?" Catherine asks, rather disdainfully.

"No, of course not!" protests Greta indignantly, with a toss of her fantastically orange hair. "He's twenty-four."

Catherine gives Imogen a look.

"Well, he is," says Imogen, giving a delicate, expressive little shrug. "And bribery works remarkably well on him..."

"Is that what James did?"

Greta's teacup clatters loudly against her saucer. "Catherine!" she exclaims, looking shocked.

Imogen narrows her eyes. In a steely voice, she asks, "I beg you pardon?"

"I'm just saying," Catherine continues, "that Sirius could have any young woman he wants. Why would he —"

"Are you implying that my son couldn't have any young woman he wanted?" interrupts Imogen, her face suddenly as hard as her voice.

"What?" Catherine says, sounding actually shocked. "Of course not!"

The corner of Imogen's mouth lifts, just slightly, in the beginnings of a sneer that she must have borrowed from Sirius. "Of course he couldn't?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Imogen."

"Well, then." Imogen's expression doesn't change. "If he could have, why shouldn't Sirius want him?"

"Because he's a he!" Catherine snaps.

"What nonsense. Your roots are showing, Cath," Greta declares, before a still-chilly Imogen can open her mouth again.

"Her hair looks fine to me," Juniper half-shouts, peering at Catherine's scalp.

"Not those, the Muggle ones," Greta corrects her, gently.

"Silly, you can't see those!" says Juniper with a laugh, grabbing another biscuit and slurping down some more tea.

Greta shakes her head. "You can when someone's talking about not wanting a Potter because of their gender!"

Catherine says nothing. Imogen is still glaring at her. "I really don't think Sirius cares what James is," she says firmly. "In fact, as far as he's concerned, James could probably be a goat, and he'd still want him."

"Sirius fancies goats?" Juniper asks, a bit of tea running down her chin. "He ought to have a chat with Abe, he'll tell him how to handle it —"

"For Merlin's sake," mutters Greta, and moves around to sit on the couch right next to Juniper, beginning to explain — very loudly — about James being the only goat Sirius fancies.

Ignoring the both of them, Catherine faces Imogen, a stubborn look on her face.

"Be realistic, Cathy," Imogen admonishes, after a moment.

"I am being realistic."

"Not if you can't see how perfect they are for each other!"

Catherine averts her gaze.

Imogen sighs. "What's so very terrible about it, anyway?"

"It's just..."

"It's just what?" presses Imogen. She gives Catherine a stern look. "I'd like a straight answer, if you please."

"It's just..." Catherine struggles with her words for a moment. "Just not natural, Imogen."

"By which you really mean normal," replies Imogen, shaking her head slightly. "As if either of my boys were ever that!"

Catherine's lips thin even further. "Can we just... agree to disagree on this, dear?"

Imogen opens her mouth to say something, before reconsidering and snapping it shut again.

"I'm very glad they're happy," Catherine adds.

"You aren't... going to treat them differently," Imogen finally says, half an order and half a question. "Are you?"

Pausing only half a moment before answering, Catherine says, "Of course not."

Imogen regards her intently for a bit, then nods resignedly. "All right, then."

"Are you sure you don't need any advice on goats?" Juniper asks.

"What?" Looking over, Imogen grins. "No, no goats, June."

"If you're sure," says Juniper, not sounding convinced. "Give us another bikkie, Im."

Greta glances at the plate of biscuits. Imogen glances, too.

There's one left.

"I'm sorry. This one's mine." So saying, Imogen rather snatches it up.

"Oi!"

"Hostess," Imogen points out primly.

"I thought you were saving one," Catherine points out. "For Sirius."

Imogen does not look concerned. "I'll make him cake. He'll forgive me." She smirks. "Bribery, remember?"

Wednesday, 27 June 1984

Dear Sirius,
I have a problem, and please bear with me as I try to explain this in a way suited for children. I'm a man, in a relationship with another man, and he's the, shall we say, dominant one, if you know what I mean. I don't mind this in itself at all, in fact I am very happy with our intimate life. It is his reason for not wanting to try it the other way around that I take issue with: he says that he is not a woman. Is he implying that I am?! How can I make him see his logic is, to say the least, very flawed, without pushing him away? Please help!
/Lee, not Lisa

Dear Lee,
I'll admit, this question took me awhile to answer... mostly because it made me think of something a friend of mine said once, and I couldn't stop snickering. (No reflection on your situation, of course; the friend is just a bit of an idiot about certain things.)
As for my suggestion, I'd say that you should start by asking your man, the next time the subject comes up, if that — you being a woman — is actually what he means. Probably he doesn't have a good answer for this, and will try to fob you off with a "no, of course not" or something similar. Then you simply point out that that's how it sounds, and ask — with your best confused voice, to soften the blow — what he *does* mean. If that doesn't work, well, just announce that he's being an idiot and you both have man-style equipment so clearly neither of you are women, and let that be an end to it.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I think my best friend's parents hate me! They never ask me to come around and last time I met them, they kept hinting that my friend should spend time with people who are a better influence on her! What should I do? Do your parents like James?
/Bezzie

Dear Bez,
This is one of those things that, if it really concerns you, you need to talk to your friend about. It's up to the two of you to decide how much of a problem their apparent dislike of you is going to be. I mean, my parents have always absolutely loathed James, but that hasn't stopped us.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I'm considering moving to Siberia. What do you reckon would be the pros and the cons?
/Anne in Middlesex

Dear Anne,
Cons: Cold. Lack of English. Cold. Far away from civilisation (I know, I know, this would be a pro, except "civilisation" includes adorable Brit grocery stores where you can buy chocolate cake). Cold?
Pros: ...er.
I hope this has been helpful!
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
If you could be a woman for one day, what would you do and why?
/Orlando

Dear Orly,
... A lot of people will roll their eyes if I say "have sex a lot", won't they? Only I can't think of anything else I'd really, really want to do...
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I'm thinking about getting a motorbike. Since you're an expert, is there anything I should think about before purchasing one? Loads of money and all that, after all.
/Walter

Dear Walter,
The most important question pertaining to motorbike ownership: Do you look good in leather?
Sirius

Friday, 29 June 1984

Dear Sirius,
My best friend is so bossy! She thinks all of my decision and choices -- like where to live, where to work, who to date -- have to go through her, and none of it is ever good enough for her! Just the other week she scared off this bloke I really liked by telling him how many children I want, and how I want them soon -- and then she told me about it as though she'd done me a favour! How can I make her stop acting like this?
/Fed up

Dear Fed up,
Tell her you appreciate her concern for you, but to take it to such a point is both unnecessary and insulting. Perhaps don't put it exactly like that — but you could always accuse her of being in love with you, and jealous of those blokes of yours.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I take a writing class in the evenings and we've been given the task to describe a) ourselves, b) our significant other or best friend, c) our job and d) our life in exactly ten words. I have no idea what to write! What would you put down, were you in my class?
/Blocked

Dear Blocked,
a) That fancy, facetious, flawed fop your mum warned you about.
b) The best parts of everything I've ever thought of wanting.
c) Where I get paid for being myself, only more so.
d) A whopping big, beautiful joke that has no punch line.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I think my husband's best friend is in love with me. My husband, however, just thinks I'm delusional and self-important but I'm sure I'm right! How can I make him see my point?
/Taken

Dear Taken,
Investigate! Come up with evidence and present it to your hubby as proof that you are right and he is wrong. Only try not to fall for his friend... or make said friend fall off balconies or anything. And don't get strangled. And don't let the friend write adorable little poster-board signs about how perfect you are.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
My brother doesn't like ice cream. Do you think there's something seriously wrong with him?
/Ben

Dear Ben,
Only if his name is Jerry.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Do you think you'll ever get married? Why, or why not?
/R.S.

Dear Rita,
(For a bit there, I was certain I'd been entirely deprived of the very great pleasure I derive from answer your stimulating questions. Clearly, I was wrong. Pity.) Maybe, because it might be nice eventually, but then again, maybe not, because really, do I need to?
Sirius

Dear Sirius (40/52)

Thu, 26 Mar 2009 00:50:19 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius (part 40/52)
Author: duva & fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: Humor/Romance
Chapter Word Count: ~4460
Status: Complete
Chapter Rating: PG-13/T, for innuendo, language, implied violence, and objectionable content, like Sirius advising the liberal use of ranting.
Spoilers: Uh, not really. It's so ridiculously AU that it kinda becomes almost completely unspoilerific.
Pairing: James/Sirius
Warnings: AU. Language, innuendo, implied violence.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Summary: Thrice weekly in the Evening Prophet's entertainment section, Sirius Black answers all your questions, from the mundane to the complicated to the just plain weird.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine A, Chapter Nine B, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine, Chapter Thirty, Chapter Thirty-One, Chapter Thirty-Two, Chapter Thirty-Three, Chapter Thirty-Four, Chapter Thirty-Five, Chapter Thirty-Six, Chapter Thirty-Seven, Chapter Thirty-Eight, Chapter Thirty-Nine
Notes: Most of the important backstory for this — where it differs from canon, anyway — can be found in the newspaper collage at the beginning of the first chapter, but if you're still confused about something, please ask. If you missed any chapters, just follow the above links to get caught up. Remember to comment if you enjoyed this! And we're still taking suggestions for questions from Sirius's readers — can you think of something you'd like to ask Sirius? — so go ahead and comment with those, too! (Monday's first and last questions are from icarus_malfoy!)

Monday, 18 June 1984

Dear Sirius,
My older brother (a seventh year) told me that all vampires are beautiful and that they sparkle in the sunlight. Is this true? I'd love to meet one if it is.
/Ickle Firsty

Dear Ickle,
It is categorically untrue! What is your brother trying to do, get you eaten? Bad him!
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Whenever my boss is in a bad mood, he takes it out on his employees, ie me and my colleagues. Yesterday he ran out of coffee and as a result, we all had to stay three hours late and clean out the filing cabinets! I really need the money so I can't quit — what should I do?
/Disgruntled

Dear Grunt,
The way I see it, you've got two choices. You can either take the "safe, quiet" route and spend lots of time trying to make sure this boss never slips into a bad mood. Alternately, you can be "mean" and cause problems, just to revel in the sadistic joy of making his life horrid. (That one isn't really a real solution, though, given that it makes YOUR life horrid, too.) But maybe if you can get him grouchy and pissy enough, you could get HIS boss to send him to anger management classes or something.
Sirius

PS: Oh, yeah, and there's always hexing on the sly.

Dear Sirius,
I have a problem. I think I am completely unattractive to the opposite sex, and especially the guy I fancy. He seems to like me enough as a friend, but whenever I try to let him know I'm interested in him on a physical level he laughs it off and acts like I'm joking!! What can I do to stop being so repulsive?
/Icky icky ew ew

Dear Ick,
Probably you're not repulsive. Possibly he laughs it off 'cause he's attracted to you but really does think you're joking and doesn't want you to know how he feels 'cause he's afraid you'll make fun of him. Or maybe you're just looking in the wrong direction.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Speaking of underwear: Boxers or briefs?
/Willie

Dear Willie,
(Were we?) Boxers, when I must.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Is it weird to think about your friends having sex with each other? I mean like actually imagining them in the act and picturing it.
/Pervy Friend

Dear Perv,
A bit, yeah. Are they hot friends?
Sirius

Wednesday, 20 June 1984

Dear Sirius,
I have a problem and I have no idea how to solve it! I have a two-month old son, and a nine-year old cat. The cat is very jealous of the baby. In fact, every time I breastfeed my son, the cat lies down on his face! I'm starting to worry I'll wake up one morning and the cat will have suffocated my boy. What should I do? I really don't want to give my cat away!
/Mum of "two"

Dear Mum,
Get a squirt bottle and fill it with water. Every time the cat gets too close to the baby — no matter what it or the baby are doing — use the squirt bottle to spray it. (It'll get the point.) Also, you might want to take to keeping the baby's door closed while he's asleep.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I really love golfing. My wife really hates golfing. How can I get her to like it so that we can spend more time together?
/Bryce

Dear Bryce,
The Imperius. Or bribery (like, give her shiny things every time she comes with you).
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
How many licks does it take to get to the centre of the lollipop?
/Kelly

Dear Kelly,
Speaking euphemistically— Actually, never mind, I'm not allowed to do that. But I did count once. I got to 711 before I bit it, instead. Oops.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
What should you say when you recieve a really really bad present? And what is the worst gift you personally have ever been given?
/Luisa

Dear Luisa,
You say "Thank you" with a smile. Then, still smiling, you ask where they bought it... so you can take it back. The worst gift I ever got was this Muggle novelty fish (you know, the trophy kind that fisher-people's keep) that *sang* — and not even a good song!
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
How do you convince someone that their significant other is a complete and utter knob, when they're too in love and blinded to listen to you?
/Concerned

Dear Concerned,
You can't. You just have to stick it out long enough to be there when the complete and utter knob is finally out of the picture, so that you can valiantly not say "I told you so."
Sirius

Friday, 22 June 1984

Dear Sirius,
What do you do to unwind after a long, hard day at work? I'm having real trouble leaving work behind when I go home at the end of the day, and it's making me rather frazzled and stressed out. Any hints or tips on how to separate your work from your spare time?
/Elsa

Dear Elsa,
If I've had a really bad work day, I get myself a beer — or a bottle of wine, or a glass of Firewhiskey — and I sit down with James and listen to the Wireless, and occasionally let him complain about being sore all over, and somehow I end up feeling better.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
What is the worst name you've ever been called?
/Snarky

Dear Snarky,
"Vile, rancid toefungus." (Which was followed by "without the integrity of a flesh-eating, man-hating dung beetle!")
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I have a problem that I feel might be a bit unusual. I can't seem to get any men to take an interest in me, and I have been told by several different people that the reason for this is that I am too good-looking! Apparently my appearance scares men off, as they feel they have no shot with me anyway. I don't think I do anything to further this impression -- I don't really value looks all that much -- and to be frank I find it a bit insulting that they can't see past my outside to get to know the inside! I like to think I'm kind and funny and smart, and I am well-educated (I work as a Healer), so why is it that men only think "pretty lady" and give up?! I don't get it!
/Helen

Dear Helen,
So, your problem is that you're just too fabulous on too many levels? Well then, your solution is just that you need to wait until you find an equally fabulous man — or at least, one who isn't intimidated by your, shall we say, surface. Trust me, once you find him, he'll be worth the wait... so don't give up!
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Is it really true that redheads can't wear a) pink, b) orange or c) red in general?
/Out of options

Dear Out,
No. Well, all right, I suppose it is, in general, but some redheads can pull off some shades of at least one of those three colours. (My friend Lils has this really gorgeous burnt orange blouse...)
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
What do you do when two very close friends of yours, who have been in a romantic relationship with each other for a good few years, suddenly break up and start hating each other? And what do you do when they both expect you to take their side against the other one? Especially when you feel they're both in the wrong and should get over themselves, already? HELP!!
/Stuck in the middle

Dear Stuck,
You Stun them both, tie them to adjacent chairs, gag them, Enervate them, and you rant. You rant hard.
Sirius

Residence of Sirius Black and James Potter
22 June 1984
7.34 pm

Following a green flash of light (and what looks like a rather painful collision of knees and floor), a delighted female voice calls out, "You fixed it!", completely ignoring the fact that the room she's just entered is, in fact, empty.

"Actually, I made James fix it, like I told you I would," Sirius's voice answers, from the direction of the kitchen. "Did you break anything?"

"Nope, I'm in one piece," Ivy says, brushing off her dress robes as she enters the kitchen.

Turning from the man next to the table, Sirius grins and retorts, "What about my furniture?"

"Are you very attached to it?"

"Only the sofa," admits Sirius. Leaning closer he whispers, "Why? Did you manage to break that horrid old armchair out there?"

"No... should I go back and try again?" Ivy asks, grinning. Then, after glancing around the kitchen for a moment, she turns to face the other man. "Hello. You're not James Potter."

Shaking a head of very obviously blonde hair, the man blushes. "N-no, I'm not." He darts a nervous glance at Sirius.

Sirius's grin widens slightly. "Not by a long shot," he adds, laughingly. "Ivy, this is Alec Harrigan, my accountant. Alec, meet Ivy Pierson."

"Hello," Ivy says, stretching out a hand towards the blonde man. "Nice to meet you. Sirius, I like your kitchen."

"Hi," murmurs Alec, tentatively taking Ivy's hand. He drops it almost at once, turning pinker.

Sirius is grinning at Ivy. "You do, do you? Pity it's not really mine, then."

"I do," Ivy nods, grinning at Alec. "Whose is it? And why do you have an accountant?"

"It's James's," replies Sirius arching an eyebrow at the way Alec is staring at Ivy. He clears his throat pointedly before he goes on. "I have an accountant because I am loaded and James's folks were afraid I'd blow all my Galleons on booze and expensive clothes and be broke by the time I'm 25."

"And you're being responsible for him?"

Recognising that this question is directed at him, Alec gives her small smile. "Something like that. I'm— I'm good at responsible."

Nodding, Ivy grins at him, looking rather delighted. "So, if the kitchen is James's, what's yours? The loo?"

She's still looking at Alec.

Sirius snickers. "The telly." He glances between her and Alec. "So, Al, are we all done, then?"

Alec's gaze snaps away from Ivy's face. Looking pointedly over Sirius's shoulder, he nods quickly. "Oh. Er. Yes, quite... quite done."

"You're not coming to the party?" Ivy asks, looking rather disappointed.

Alec's face turns bright red. He shakes his head.

"Pity," Ivy says, before grinning at him again. "Well, I'm sure I'll see you around sometime."

"S-sure," replies Alec, his wide eyes drifting over to her again.

Sirius, for some reason that is surely quite inexplicable, is smirking.

"Shall we, then?"

"No time like the present," agrees Sirius, straightening his dress robes. "You can show yourself out, can't you, Al? Good. Off we pop, Ivy!"

"Bye," Ivy calls, waving at Alec as she grabs Sirius's arm. "Lovely meeting you!"

Alec waves back, less confidently. "You, too," he says quietly.

With a pop, Sirius and Ivy Disapparate, reappearing a moment later at the place Ivy's mother had instructed her to show up.

"Well, here we are," Ivy says, brushing her robes off again. "Seems like a nice fellow."

Sirius is still smirking. "... are you talking about me, or to me?"

"Don't be a prick," Ivy replies, still grinning. "Cute, too."

"Is he?" Sirius asks, one eyebrow raised.

"In a dorky, quiet sort of way," Ivy clarifies, as they walk towards the house in front of them. "I like that."

"And he's quite intelligent," Sirius adds, nudging her elbow with his and winking in a very overdone way.

"And responsible, no less!"

"And single," Sirius half-whispers, as they reach the front door.

Looking rather delighted, Ivy lifts the heavy brass knocker and lets it drop onto the door.

A full ten seconds pass before the glossy wooden door swings open. Behind it are two women, both slightly on the wrong side of middle-age, the first of whom takes one look at Ivy and the man next to her and declares, "So you really did manage to find someone, Ivy. I was sure your mother was lying."

Meanwhile, the other woman smiles coolly at Ivy, taking a step back and gesturing for them to enter. "Your aunt was just telling me, young lady, how surprised she was to hear—"

Ivy's grin, already looking rather frozen in place, falters.

The hostess, her smile still on her face but looking much colder, has stopped and is staring at Sirius — who is staring back — with obvious shock.

"You," she whispers, sounding as if she can't decide whether to throw him off her stoop or faint.

"Auntie Lucretia," Sirius replies, surprisingly evenly. He glances at Ivy, and a muscle along his jaw twitches. "This is a surprise, I'm sure."

Ivy blinks. "I didn't realise you were related to Mrs Prewett, Sirius."

"Daddy's sister," Sirius declares, far too sweetly.

Ivy's aunt's attention is fluttering avidly between her hostess, her niece, and her niece's escort.

Mrs Prewett's nostrils flare and her smile slips for a moment before she can compose herself. "Where are my manners," she says, her tone almost as sweet as Sirius's. "Little Sirius, how... nice to see you. Do come in."

After hesitating a moment, Ivy takes a step forward. "Thank you very much, Mrs Prewett."

Sirius doesn't move. His eyes have narrowed on his aunt.

Ivy's aunt glances interestedly between Mrs Prewett and Sirius.

"Come on, Sirius," Ivy says, stepping inside.

Sirius arches an eyebrow at his aunt. Then, glancing at Ivy, he smiles — visibly forced — and murmurs, "Yes, dear." His voice is faintly sarcastic, but he does follow her.

Once well past the two women, Ivy tugs at his sleeve. "I didn't realise you were so closely related to her."

"I didn't realise you'd brought me to a Pureblood party," Sirius hisses back.

"Is that a problem?"

Sirius stops, staring at her. "Ivy..." he says slowly.

Ivy raises an eyebrow at him. "Yes?"

"...do you have any idea when the last time was that I spoke to— to anyone who would be invited to one of these things by my aunt?" Sirius pauses, and then pales slightly. "Oh, fuck."

"Should I?" Ivy asks, though she's looking rather concerned. "Are you all right?"

Sirius is now looking around, a tense expression on his face, and he seems distracted. "I don't— These people— We don't get along," he says, rather tersely.

"Why?" says Ivy, looking puzzled. "Is it because you're with James?"

Sirius half-raises his hand, like he wants to clap it over her mouth, but catches himself at the last moment. "Shh!"

"What?" Ivy whispers, as they pass a group of rather staring people.

"That's not public information," Sirius admonishes in a very, very low voice. "And no, that's not why. That's not even close to why."

"How clandestine!"

Sirius shoots her a look. "It isn't clandestine, it's just not public."

Ivy meets his look with an even one of her own. "What's the difference?"

Sirius visibly grits his teeth. "Ivy," he says through a clenched jaw, "there are a lot of people here who do not like me."

"Why, what'd you do?"

"I called them all bigots and ran away from home!"

Ivy stares at him. "What?"

Aware that his voice was getting a little too loud, Sirius drops it again. "My best friends are a bloodtraitor, a Muggleborn and a werewolf — would you really expect me to get along with the kind of people that my family makes no secret of being?"

"A what?" Ivy repeats, looking very interested by now. "Who's a werewolf?"

Sirius sighs exasperatedly. "Not James."

"Well, of course not."

"Must you know?"

"Is it Lily?" Ivy asks, looking pensive. "She's feisty, right?"

"Muggleborn," Sirius informs her, with another sigh.

"They can't be werewolves?"

"What? No! Just— she's not." Sirius frowns. "I don't think. Moony might have bitten her last time..."

"Aha!!"

Ivy looks very smug for a moment. Then, "Wait. Who's Moony?"

"The other one," Sirius replies reasonably.

"The Remus fellow?"

Sirius snickers.

"You just keep unfolding like a flower," Ivy says, as they approach a group of women. "Mother!"

"Ivy!" responds a tall woman whose dark hair is only slightly greying. She smiles brightly. "There you are!" Her eyes go to Sirius, glazing slightly as her smile slips a little, before her entire expression gets even brighter. "And who is this?"

"This is Sirius," Ivy says, grabbing his hand and pulling him forwards. "Sirius, meet my mother."

"Hullo, Sirius!"

Sirius smiles slightly. "A pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

"Yes, yes, very lovely," Ivy says, pulling at his sleeve again. "Where's the bar?"

"Over there," Ivy's mother announces happily, raising her glass as if in illustration. "Absolutely lovely G&Ts, dear!"

"Excellent," Ivy says, brightening instantly. "Come, Sirius!"

At the mention of a bar, Sirius also appears to have brightened. "Only because there's alcohol," he announces, and then half drags her in the direction of the bar with only a "Thank you!" directed at Mrs Pierson.

Ivy's mother wiggles her fingers in a wave at their backs, and takes another sip of her drink.

"Thank you," Ivy mutters under her breath as they head towards the bar. "That ought to shut her up until Christmas, at least."

Sirius blinks, momentarily distracted from his mission. "What? What did I do?"

"You're here," Ivy says, manouvering around another group of people. "Gives her hope I won't die an old spinster."

"... what?" Sirius turns to stare at her. "You're, what, twenty?"

"Not until August."

"Nineteen, and she's worried about spinsterhood?" demands Sirius, sounding downright horrified. He turns back to the bar. "You know what we need? We need drinks. Like, now."

"I won't argue with that."

Sirius conveys this desperate need to the bartender, an unusually tiny house-elf in a strangely dapper pillow case, and within moments is handing Ivy a large gin and tonic only half the size of his own.

Ivy eyes his glass. "That bad?"

"Insurance," explains Sirius, taking a restrained sip. "In case Auntie dear invited her charming sister-in-law."

"Oh." Ivy pauses for a moment. "I didn't realise you actually ran away ran away."

Sirius looks faintly surprised. "What?"

"I thought you just... y'know, left to be with your man."

"I was still in school, Ivy."

Ivy looks nonplussed. "Yes...?"

Sirius blows out an exasperated sigh and takes a slightly larger drink from his glass. "And I wasn't 'with my man' until last year."

"Really!" exclaims Ivy, waving half-heartedly at a man across the room from them before turning her full attention back to Sirius. "Why not?"

"Er." For a moment, Sirius seems rather baffled.

"I mean, you're obviously — why is that woman staring at you?"

"I'm obviously what?" asks Sirius, raising his eyebrows and studiously not following her gaze. "And why wouldn't a woman stare at me?"

"Obviously rather sure of yourself," Ivy says, scoffing. "Honestly. She looks angry."

Sirius tenses slightly. "Angry?" he repeats flatly, while cautiously turning his head just enough to peer in the same direction as Ivy.

"Maybe just stuck-up."

As Sirius catches sight of the woman Ivy's talking about — tall, slender, blond, and with a look on her face like someone slipped extra lemon juice into her drink — some of his tension seeps away. "Oh," he mutters, "you meant her."

Ivy's still looking at her. "Uh-huh. Why, did you do something bad to her?"

"To Mrs Malfoy?" Sirius questions in surprise, then turns away and scoffs. "Nothing that I didn't do to the rest of my family."

"That's who she is?"

Sirius nods sharply, once. "The equally charming other half of Lucius-the-ferret-bastard — my cousin, Narcissa."

Ivy pauses to sip her drink. "I never saw the point in keeping track of all the pureblood relationships, you know."

Turning back to her, Sirius rewards her with his second-best smile. "Good girl."

"Wasn't very popular in Slytherin," replies Ivy, grinning back at him. "Anyone else in here you're related to, then?"

"Should've been in Gryffindor, I could've kept an eye on you," Sirius rebukes teasingly, while scanning the room. "Like I expect I should be doing tonight — bloody Merlin, was there a cousin Auntie didn't invite?"

"I don't know," Ivy says, suddenly looking delighted, "but here's my father. Daddy!!"

"Hello, sweetheart," replies a cheerful-looking man with an enthusiastic goatee, approaching Ivy and beaming at her. "Your mother said you'd arrived. Are you enjoying yourself?"

Ivy nods, throwing her arms around his rather generously sized waist. "This is Sirius, daddy. He's Mrs Prewett's nephew."

The look Mr Pierson throws at Sirius, while returning Ivy's hug, is at once both indulgent and suspicious. "But I thought you were bringing a date, sweetheart."

Sirius is grimacing at Ivy's choice of introduction, but tries to turn it into a smile. "It's nice to meet you," he says blandly.

"This is my date, daddy," Ivy says, giggling.

Her father looks quite surprised, in addition to indulgent and suspicious. "He is? But he's—"

"— just a friend, but please don't tell mother that."

"Of course, of course." Ignoring the last part of her sentence, Mr Pierson looks between Sirius and his daughter and frowns slightly. "Are you sure he's just a friend, sweetie? He doesn't look... friendly..."

"Quite sure, daddy," Ivy says, rolling her eyes a little. "Stop fussing."

"Hmph." Mr Pierson goes back to staring narrowly at Sirius. "Looks like a gigolo," he mutters under his breath.

Sirius, with a sigh, drains half of his gin and tonic.

Two hours later, Sirius is deep into another, even larger gin and tonic, and his grim scowl is starting to show around the edges.

Ivy's speaking to an older gentleman who appears to be rather closely related to her father, if the facial hair is anything to go by.

She's not exactly close to where Sirius is standing, leaning against a wall, but he's got his eyes determinedly fixed on her rather than the other occupants of the room. It's the only reason the voice off to one side — saying his first name rather more loudly and viciously than is strictly necessary — manages to take him by surprise.

For an instant, he freezes. Then slowly, he turns and frostily replies, "Mother."

"I didn't expect Lucretia to invite you." Mrs Black is looking at the wall next to Sirius as she says this, a rather stony expression on her face as she leans heavily on a walking stick.

"She didn't," Sirius declares, flatly, and then nothing else.

"Good."

It's not just the edges of Sirius's scowl showing now. "Cissa tell you I was here?" he asks snidely.

His mother nods stiffly. "Making a point, are we?"

"Excuse me?"

"By showing your face here."

There's a quiet growling noise, most probably coming from Sirius's throat, though he's not conscious of making it. "I didn't know."

"Well," his mother replies, in a tone rather similar to his own, "Lucretia was most upset. Congratulations."

"I didn't intend it," Sirius grinds out through clenched teeth. "Not that you'll believe that."

"Sirius?" Ivy suddenly asks, appearing at his side. "Are you all right?"

Sirius continues glaring at his mother. "Peachy."

"Uncle Phillip would like to say hello, but if you're busy —"

"I'm not busy at all," says Sirius, cutting her off while straightening from the wall, his face still grim. He turns his back on Walburga. "But I was just about to leave."

Ivy blinks. "Leave?"

Sirius smiles tightly. "Yes. I just remembered a very important appointment."

His mother completely ignores both of them.

"Are you coming?" Sirius asks, his tone softening slightly.

"Um," Ivy says, glancing between the two Blacks. "Actually, my cousin Tristan just arrived and I haven't seen him in years —"

"That's fine." The muscles of Sirius's neck and shoulders tighten, like he wants to glance back at his mother but he won't let himself. "I'll stop by tomorrow and make sure you got home all right, then."

"All right?"

"Enjoy yourself," Sirius instructs by way of farewell, then practically bolts for the front door.

He bursts through his own front door less than three seconds later, scowling worse than ever, and slams the door behind himself. Slams it hard.

"Merlin's toenails!" James exclaims, and a moment later comes scurring out of the living room. "The hell, Si?"

Sirius stays standing in the front hall for several moments, staring at James and breathing heavily. One look at Sirius's face and James's demeanor changes completely. "What's wrong?"

"She is fucking lucky I like her," growls Sirius, still holding himself very still.

"Who?" James asks, crossing the hall and placing a hand on Sirius's arm. "What happened? Why aren't you at the party?"

"Ivy," Sirius mutters, right before his hands dart out and pull the other man roughly against his chest. He hides his face in James's neck, and doesn't answer the last two questions.

"Si, you're shaking," James mumbles as he pulls him closer. "What's the matter?"

"The party sucked?" tries Sirius, with a weak chuckle.

One of James's hands moves up to stroke the back of Sirius's head. "I'm sorry."

Sirius takes a deep breath of James, before announcing quietly, "My mother was there."

"Oh." James pauses for a moment, pulling Sirius even tighter to him. "Oh, shit."

"And Lucretia, and Narcissa, and half the fucking family," Sirius adds.

James just holds him, his hand still moving gently through Sirius's hair.

"And—" Sirius pauses, giving a little growling gasp, "—she talked to me."

"Come on," James mutters, taking a step backwards without releasing him. "I've got popcorn and beer and there's rugby on telly."

Sirius lifts his head. "You were watching telly?"

"Nope," says James, manouvering around the doorpost. "But I kept track for you, in case you'd be back early."

"Oh. Thanks." Sirius drops his face back to James's neck. "I'm better here, though."

"That's why I'm here."

Dropping down to the couch and pulling James with him, Sirius just nods.

James leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Sirius's forehead. "Wanna talk about it?"

"My despicable family despises me even more than I loathe them," mutters Sirius. "There isn't much to talk about."

"All right," James says softly. "You know that they don't deserve you, right?"

Sitting back slightly, Sirius snorts.

"Oi."

"You know you're outnumbered with that opinion, right?"

"Maybe," James says, settling against him. "But my opinion counts more, so there."

"It does," Sirius agrees, and sighs. "... did you say rugby, love?"

"And popcorn."

Smiling slightly, Sirius leans to drop a kiss on James's neck. "You're a lifesaver."

"No," James says, smiling as well, "I just know you."

"That's what I said."

Without another word, James flicks on the TV. Sighing once again, Sirius snuggles — into James as much as the couch — and finally relaxes.

Crescendo

Fri, 20 Mar 2009 23:53:39 GMT

Title: Crescendo
Author: fictionalcandie
Genre: Drama/Angst
Word Count: approx. 1,945
Status: Complete
Rating: R/M
Spoilers: Not… exactly
Pairing: Lily/James, James/Sirius, Lily/Severus
Warnings: Slash, mild implied violence, brief language, objectionable themes. AU. Angst.
Disclaimer: Not mine, please don’t sue.
Blurb: Be careful what you wish for.
Notes: Kinda like Hidden Consequences, I wrote this in less than twenty-four hours and don’t really know where it came from — and also kinda like that fic, this isn’t particularly happy. Oops?

Crescendo

It was a sudden, unplanned meeting of lips, a moment of almost-drunken weakness because there was music playing softly and the lighting was just right and so were their positions. Sirius couldn’t resist, because James’s hair was even more rumpled than usual and it was his own hand that was responsible this time — and everything was so right it was all wrong.

As abruptly as it had begun, the kiss ended, Sirius stumbling back with a look of horror on his face. “Merlin, James,” he gasped, his hands raised as if in self-defense though no blow was coming. “God, I’m— I’m sorry.”

James could do nothing but stare, feeling stunned and off-balance and — Merlin help him — just a little bit warm and fluttery. He opened his mouth, intending to say Sirius’s name, but all that came out was a little, inarticulate groan.

It sounded a lot more sensual than he would have liked.

“Shit,” moaned Sirius, his darkened eyes on James’s lips, their expression chillingly weak.

James tried again, but only succeeded in producing a louder groan.

Sirius fled.

__

Sirius tried to act normal, like he hadn’t ever made a move on his married best friend. He even came over just as often, on the theory that if you pretended nothing had changed, no-one would notice that it actually had.

His secret looks that used to linger on James, however, were no longer as secret as they used to be, and after a few weeks there were even a few looks that started to linger back. These were more uncertain, curious instead of knowing, but they’re there and they’re not a secret either and they made it hard for Sirius to remember why he shouldn’t.

Even though Lily seemed blissfully oblivious, it was obvious that James was drifting, his focus slipping off his wife to settle, with something much too like longing, on his best friend.

It ate Sirius up inside with guilt and made shame swim as liberally in his belly as Firewhiskey ever had before.

It didn’t stop him deliberately looking his best when he went over.

__

James broke after another month, though he had truly thought he’d last at least a little longer. He really shouldn’t have, but then, he hadn’t properly counted on Sirius, had he?

Sirius, who had come over for Halloween with his eyes and his too-dark smile promising so many wicked things that once he left, James couldn’t help making love to Lily like he never meant to stop.

Only now he was pretty sure he did.

Because though it was Lily’s name that left his lips every time he came, it was Sirius’s face in his mind. He was pretty sure, besides, that he’d only spoken the right name out of habit.

The worst part wasn’t that he didn’t think that habit would survive very much longer.

It was that he knew he didn’t want it to.

__

When James got up the courage to break the news to Lily, just over a week later, he tried to explain it with short words and as little emotion as possible, because he wasn’t sure if he could do this at all but knew that if he didn’t he wouldn’t ever be truly happy again.

“It wasn’t like I intended for it to happen, Lily,” he finished, plaintively, because she was starting to get that look on her face that meant painful things for anyone on the wrong end of her wand. “I would never do that to you, you know that. It was just that Sirius—”

He wasn’t really surprised when Lily shrieked and hexed him.

It was the punch in the face which knocked him clean off his feet that caught him off guard.

__

It might have been coincidence or it might have been fate but not that much later, after Lily lost it in Flourish & Blotts for no apparent reason, it was Severus Snape who came round the corner and helped her off her knees. He dried her tears and held her gently and looked so sincerely concerned — like the last two years of their Hogwarts careers had never happened — that when he asked what was wrong, if it was Potter, she could only say:

“Yes, the bastard.”

Severus didn’t say anything else about it, but he took her to lunch.

Then he took her home.

__

James and Sirius moved into a house on the other side of the country from the one James had shared with Lily. There was a garage for Sirius’s motorbike and a paddock for James to fly in. They planted flowers because Sirius wanted a garden and the dog they’d got because James wanted children dug them all up.

They were happy.

Sometimes, James was nearly ashamed of how happy he and Sirius were, like when what should have been his and Lily’s anniversary rolled around.

Then Sirius would give him one of his sad smiles with the guilty eyes, and James would have to kiss him to make him feel better, and somehow the unspoken subject would always just drift away again.

They had a good life, really. James was determined that he wouldn’t let this one go.

__

Lily showed up on their doorstep one morning near Christmas, looking rosy and content and the exact opposite of the woman James had left. He let her in, and she let him serve her tea as long as he didn’t give her the stuff with the caffeine.

“We need to talk,” she announced.

James was glad Sirius wasn’t home. “Okay.”

Then they were quiet for so many minutes James almost started counting them, until she cleared her throat and broke the silence with one of the most ridiculous statements anyone had ever made in the history of anything.

“I’m in love with Severus Snape. We’re living together now.”

He was staring, and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it.

“It wasn’t like I planned it, James,” Lily informed him collectedly, the slightest quiver of her voice all that gave her away. “It was just— he was in the right place at the right time and… I needed him.”

“It’s all right,” said James, even though he wasn’t sure it was, because there didn’t seem to be anything else he could say.

He owed it to her, anyway.

__

They heard fourth-hand that Lily was engaged. Engaged and happy and pregnant.

Something hard and nasty twisted within James at the thought. Sirius just looked uneasy and eyed him cautiously until James declared, in an overly cheerful voice, that he was going out for a run.

“Take Godric,” Sirius suggested.

James nodded, and took their dog with him. He ran, and he ran, for so long that it wasn’t just the dog panting when he got back. He must have looked pretty much how he felt, because Sirius’s face got rather concerned.

“You all right?” he asked, as he bent to put the dog’s freshly refilled water dish on the floor.

“Fine,” said James.

Then he wrapped a rough arm around Sirius and fucked him until Sirius couldn’t move and he couldn’t think.

__

“Darling?” Lily ventured hesitantly, her hands on her ridiculously swollen stomach.

Severus raised his head from where he’d been staring hard at the top if their kitchen table. “Yes?” he asked coolly, not in the voice of a man who’d drunk half a bottle of very, very expensive vodka, though he definitely had.

“I need to tell you something. About… the baby.”

Both eyebrows arched and his lips tightened. “It’s not mine.”

Lily winced at the flat declaration, but she didn’t argue, just nodded.

“How long have you known?” Severus demanded now, and it was even more disturbing that his voice stayed flat instead of rising like she’d thought it would.

“Since the medi-witch told me I was pregnant,” she confessed quietly, feeling ten kinds of awful. “Sev, I’m—”

“You knew it was Potter’s,” her fiancé interrupted, an almost unpleasant gleam in his eyes that she couldn’t quite like but which sent those foolishly delicious shivers up her back. “And yet, you stayed with me.”

Lily licked her lips. She nodded, though obviously it was unnecessary.

“Why?”

She hesitated, she really did, but in the end that arrogant look on his face couldn’t be denied. “Because I want you,” she blurted fiercely, her voice gaining volume and getting harsher with each word. “I want you, and I’m still mad at him, and it would only complicate things, and I just want normal for once!”

Perhaps it was unflattering that he only considered this for a moment or perhaps it wasn’t, but either way her voice had barely died when his replaced it.

“I can live with that,” he murmured, and she was so relieved she kissed him.

__

The day before his thirty-third birthday, Sirius ran into Lily and her husband just outside Gringotts. He hadn’t seen either of them in years. Their son wasn’t with them, for which Sirius felt queerly grateful.

He didn’t expect smiles or pleasant greetings, which was probably a good thing, because he didn’t get them.

Severus gave him a cold sneer and ordered him — ordered him — out of their way. Lily looked at him like she couldn’t decide whether he were dirt, or garbage, and whispered only one word as she passed.

Sirius didn’t mention any of it to James.

Sometimes, though, he would remember that encounter, and he didn’t sleep well.

__

The first time James saw Severus Snape’s son, his stomach rolled and he barely managed not to lose his breakfast on the poor lad’s shoes.

James was pushing forty, neither bitter nor sentimental nor nostalgic, and the young man with the green eyes and the half-moon glasses didn’t seem to notice anything — in fact, he was standing outside Quality Quidditch with a newly purchased broomstick under one arm, minding his own business while loudly explaining to the blond boy next to him how little his father had liked his new hair cut — but somehow James just knew. Snape’s face was long, his nose thin and familiar, the tilt of his head disturbingly exact, and on the top of his head was that same exact fucking mess that James saw every day in the mirror.

He knew who the boy was, if he hadn’t it wouldn’t have been hard to guess, and anyway the truth of it was burning somewhere in his gut like last night’s bad chili sauce.

“Hullo, lads,” he said, instead of lingering on how much he’d missed out on. “That’s not the Firebolt 370, is it?”

Both teenagers followed James’s pointing finger to the package under Snape’s arm, and grinned.

“Yeah,” replied Snape, with a proud little puff of his chest. “Just got it.”

James would have made a crack about the obvious, but his throat was still too dry for that. “Your parents must really love you,” he said instead.

Snape’s friend laughed at this, but the boy himself just kept beaming while he declared, “It’s a reward for being named Captain of my Quidditch team.”

James’s chest tightened painfully.

“You play?” he questioned, which was a pretty stupid thing to say because obviously he played, why else would he need a broom like the 370, and fuck it all, but—

“Seeker on the Slytherin team,” Snape boasted, his chest puffing out again with such obvious self-satisfaction that it was almost painful. “Since my first year.”

“Congratulations,” James replied hollowly, then muttered something indistinguishable and left the boys to themselves.

His betrayal all those years ago was burning sharply in his mind.

Dear Sirius (39/52)

Tue, 17 Mar 2009 20:22:58 GMT

Title: Dear Sirius (part 39/52)
Author: duva & fictionalcandie via garderob
Genre: Humor/Romance
Chapter Word Count: ~3450
Status: Complete
Chapter Rating: PG-13/T, for innuendo, language, and objectionable content, like Sirius's apparent belief that a good hex fixes everything.
Spoilers: Uh, not really. It's so ridiculously AU that it kinda becomes almost completely unspoilerific.
Pairing: James/Sirius
Warnings: AU. Language, innuendo, implied violence.
Disclaimer: We are not JKR and do not own these characters — at least, not the ones you recognise. Please don't sue us, Jo!
Summary: Thrice weekly in the Evening Prophet's entertainment section, Sirius Black answers all your questions, from the mundane to the complicated to the just plain weird.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine A, Chapter Nine B, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, Chapter Twenty-Seven, Chapter Twenty-Eight, Chapter Twenty-Nine, Chapter Thirty, Chapter Thirty-One, Chapter Thirty-Two, Chapter Thirty-Three, Chapter Thirty-Four, Chapter Thirty-Five, Chapter Thirty-Six, Chapter Thirty-Seven, Chapter Thirty-Eight
Notes: Most of the important backstory for this — where it differs from canon, anyway — can be found in the newspaper collage at the beginning of the first chapter, but if you're still confused about something, please ask. If you missed any chapters, just follow the above links to get caught up. Remember to comment if you enjoyed this! And we're still taking suggestions for questions from Sirius's readers — can you think of something you'd like to ask Sirius? — so go ahead and comment with those, too!

The Authoresses would like to wish you a very happy (and safe!) St Patrick's day. (fictionalcandie has a Guinness shirt. And possibly real Guinness, too. duva is just old.)

Monday, 11 June 1984

Dear Readers:
Mr Black was recently fortunate enough to have been granted a promotion within our Sports department. This new position, however, comes with a number of added responsibilities and so — unfortunately — until such time as we're certain he can handle them all, he has agreed to reduce the size of this column. As of today, therefore, it will be returning to the original five letters per day, and will continue thus for the foreseeable future.
D. Dumpling, Evening Prophet Executive Editor

Dear Sirius,
I love my husband very much, but he's always putting his friends before me. If he has a choice between spending time with me and doing something with his mates, he always picks them. A while ago my mother agreed to babysit for a whole weekend, and we made plans and everything -- and then he went to Paris with his best mate on a whim! How can I make him see this is really hurting me?
/Second choice

Dear Second,
Make plans with him, then go to Paris with YOUR best mates on a whim. Or maybe get the drop on him, stun him, gag him and tie him to a chair, then wake him up and roar at him Howler-fashion until he gets the point. I recommend Paris — fabulous shopping, you know.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Sorry to bother you at work, but I need to talk to you, and your fireplace keeps spitting me out! There's this party I need to go to next week and I can't find anyone I want to take and I HAVE to take someone or I will never hear the end of it from my mother and my aunt will make fun of me until next Christmas, and my arse is all bruised from your Floo rejection so you owe me!! Please get that fixed and get back to me, will you? ASAP, if you please!
Lots of love (but only if you get it sorted),
Ivy

Dear Ivy,
Don't worry about it, dear, EVERYONE bothers me at work. But please, calm down! I'll pop over after work tomorrow and we'll see about that problem.
Sirius

PS: I'll make James fix the Floo, too — can't think why I haven't already...

Dear Sirius,
Do you think it's possible to be friends with someone you don't share any common interests with? Why, or why not?
/Pondering

Dear Pondering,
I suppose it IS — theoretically you could be friends with your worst enemy if you tried hard enough, though I don't see why you'd WANT to — but what on earth would you talk about, if you don't have any interests in common? Quite silly, if you ask me.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I'm really into gardening. Flowers, and stuff. Does this mean I'm gay? (My wife might find that upsetting, so I'm trying to keep her from seeing the garden, but I'm running out of excuses why she shouldn't go out there. Have you got any of those, while I'm at it?)
/Worried

Dear Worried,
No, it doesn't mean you're gay. It just means you like pretty things. (Your wife should like that one.)
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I am starting Hogwarts this autumn and my dad has promised I will get to bring a pet. Which one do you think I should choose and why?
/Alan

Dear Alan,
An owl, naturally. It's much more useful than all the others!
Sirius

Residence of Sirius Black and James Potter
11 June 1984
9.48 pm

"... so, that'll definitely go on the grocery list," Sirius is saying, over the soft music coming from the Wireless. He's lounging on one end of the sofa in his living room, idly twirling his wand through his fingers and occasionally using it to add something to the piece of paper in his other hand. "Was there anything else, do you think?"

"Not that I can recall," James says from right next to him. A pause. "Unless you want any more of your, er, cheerful carrots."

"No, the grumpy green beans should do for this week," replies Sirius, shaking his head and laughing slightly. "Oh! But we do need more ice cream for my popcorn."

James makes a face at this suggestion. "What was that thing Evans put in her green salad the last time we went over for dinner?"

Sirius glances at him thoughtfully. "The leafy thing?"

"Mm."

"Radicchio?" questions Sirius. "The red stuff?"

"That's the one," James nods. "Write it down."

Sirius flicks his wand at the paper, adding angry red yuck leaves to the list. "You know, personally, I think popcorn and ice cream tastes better than that did," he mutters under his breath.

James is quiet for a moment. Then, "D'you really think it sounds good together?"

For a moment, Sirius looks confused. "Of course I do," eyeing James. "You've seen me eat it enough in the past twelve years—"

"Not that!"

Sirius stops and just looks at him for a minute. "... Okay, what are we talking about here?"

"The.... y'know." James looks slightly uncomfortable. "What you said to Remus and Evans."

"You mean yesterday?" Sirius still looks confused. "About peanut butter and pickles?"

"No, not that," James says, rather impatiently. "Though, may I say, ew."

"It's good with cheese," Sirius says defensively.

"You'll eat anything with cheese," says James, shaking his head. "But thats not what I'm talking about."

"Not chocolate cake with cheese, I won't," Sirius mutters, while tucking his wand behind his ear. "So what ARE you talking about?"

"The... y'know. What you said. When they were fighting."

For a moment, Sirius's face remains confused, then an expression of comprehension appears. "Oh," he says.

"Yeah," James mutters, sounding rather embarrassed.

"You're thinking about that?" asks Sirius, and instead of being embarrassed, he sounds a bit amused.

"Just now."

"Why?"

James shrugs. "No reason."

"Then why'd you ask me about it?"

"It just popped into my mind." James pauses to fiddle with the sleeve of his robes for a moment. "Do you?"

Sirius arches his eyebrows. "You really want to know?"

"I asked, didn't I?"

"I said it, didn't I?" Sirius counters, with a chuckle.

James looks at him for a moment, then stands up. "Forget it," he mutters.

Chuckling more, Sirius quickly reaches out to catch James's arm. "What, don't you think Potter sounds better than Black?" he demands, teasingly.

"I'm going to bed, Si."

"No, no," insists Sirius, tugging on James's arm and grinning widely. "It's perfectly all right to feel that way. We like your half of the relatives better anyway."

James gives him a half-hearted glare. "Good night, Si. I'll see you in bed."

"Oh..." Slowly, Sirius lets go. He keeps grinning. "Well, all right."

Instead of leaning down to give him a kiss, James merely brushes his thumb across Sirius's hand lightly before escaping upstairs. Sirius watches him leave, his eyes on James's arse.

It's only after the other man has completely disappeared, that his grin slips. A moment after that, he frowns slightly. A door slams shut upstairs.

Sirius's frown gets deeper.

A moment later the toilet flushes, and another door slams.

His frown getting even deeper still, Sirius pulls his wand from behind his ear and waves it to shut the Wireless off. Setting his shopping list on the coffee table, he stands and heads for the stairs. There is no light radiating from their bedroom. Shoving his wand in his pocket, Sirius slowly opens the door and peeks his head in.

James is already in bed.

The frown turns a little worried, but Sirius quickly wipes it away as he enters.

The door shuts behind him with a soft click.

"Early night for you too?" James asks, somewhat gruffly.

Sirius circles the bed to lay down, fully clothed on his side of it. Putting an arm around the other man, he leans to press a kiss to his neck. "James?"

"Mm."

"You all right?"

"I'm sleeping."

"But, James, love–"

"Shit, Si, get in or get out!" James snaps.

Sirius rears back, his head pulling away, then freezes. "..... you're actually mad at me," he whispers, his voice very, very
soft.

James sighs. "I'm not mad."

"Are you sure?" Sirius doesn't sound convinced; his voice hasn't gotten any louder.

"Yes," James mumbles. "I'm just... I feel like an idiot and can we please never talk about this again?"

"All right, of course." Sirius immediately cuddles against James again, pressing his face to James's shoulder. "Whatever you want, love."

"Thank you," James gruffs. "... are you really going to sleep in your jeans?"

"I'll change in a minute," replies Sirius, not moving now he's wrapped around James. "I'm comfortable."

"If you're sure."

"Mm. Hush, love, you wanted to sleep."

James complies.

An hour later, however, he's still frowning at the ceiling, while Sirius — still in his jeans, of course — snoozes away next to him.

Sighing deeply, he seems to come to a decision. Very carefully, he slides out from under Sirius's arm, sitting up slowly until his feet touch the floor.

Almost soundlessly, he grabs his wand and his glasses and slinks out of the room.

Not much later, Sirius shifts in his sleep, pulling in his arm as if to draw James closer. When this, obviously, doesn't work, he stretches and mumbles "J'mes?"

There is no response, and a moment later, Sirius struggles up onto his elbows, forcing his eyes and looking around the dark room. Seeing that it's empty, he sits up the rest of the way, knuckling his eyes before trying again.

Still no James.

Sirius turns to the clock, instead, and frowns.

It's nearly half an hour before James returns, opening the door as quietly as when he left, but Sirius is still awake, propped up against the headboard and obviously waiting for him.

"Merlin's beard!" James hisses, clutching at his chest. "Shit, Si, you gave me half a heart attack."

"Sorry." Sirius has his arms crossed over his bare chest. He's regarding James with a serious expression, a small frown line visible between his dark brows.

"It's all right," mumbles James, walking into the room and sitting down at his side of the bed. "I didn't mean to wake you, 's all."

"Obviously, you didn't."

Ignoring this, James explains, "Couldn't sleep. Went for a run."

"Yeah, I figured, when I woke up and you weren't here." The line between Sirius's eyebrows has grown larger.

"Don't worry, though, I washed off with the garden hose," James says, before slipping under the covers. "Sorry."

Sirius scoots over to make room for James, but otherwise doesn't move.

"Good night," James tries.

Sirius makes a noncommittal noise, and continues to sit there, arms crossed and covers bunched around his hips, staring at James.

"What?" James asks, his back to Sirius.

The other man hesitates. Then "... nothing."

"I can tell there's something," James says, rolling onto his back.

Sirius shifts his gaze to the wall opposite the bed. "You probably want to sleep."

"Yeah, well, I won't be able to with you fussing all night."

"I'm not fussing," protests Sirius, a trifle indignantly.

James just waits.

Sirius keeps staring at the wall.

"... all right, well, if you don't want to talk, I'm going to sleep."

Sirius grunts quietly.

"G'night."

"Night."

James turns his back to Sirius again.

For several minutes, Sirius doesn't move. Then he shifts slightly, turning to stare at the back of James's head.

"What is it, Si?"

Sirius clears his throat.

"Hm?"

"Look," Sirius begins, "I know you said you never want to talk about it again..."

James sighs.

"But you're not happy and..." Sirius's voice drops to a whisper. "... I'd really like to know what I did wrong."

"What you..." James sighs, turning onto his back. "You didn't do anything, Si." A pause. "I just... I just don't like it when you make fun of me."

Sirius frowns. "I didn't— I wasn't."

"It's my fault, too," James continues, ignoring him. "You'd think I'd recognise one of your jokes by now."

"What jo—" Sirius stops for a moment, then demands, "What are you talking about?"

"I didn't realise you were joking," James sighs, running a hand over his face. "But I should have."

"What was I joking about?" presses Sirius, sounding confused and a little irritated.

"With Remus," James explains. "Or Evans. Whoever it was."

"... about the name thing?"

James nods.

Sirius stares at him. "... I wasn't kidding, you idiot. Where in Merlin's pants did you get that idea?"

It takes James a few seconds to react. "You weren't?"

"Of course I wasn't!"

James turns to face him. "Oh."

Sirius is frowning slightly. "What made you think I was?"

"It sounded like you were taking the piss."

"I wasn't."

"Oh," James says again. "So you're —"

"Serious?"

"Don't make a pun."

Sirius sighs. "Sorry. Habit."

James raises himself onto an elbow, looking down at the other man.

"I mean," says Sirius, with a small shrug and an even smaller smile, "it might take me awhile to get used to being a SOP instead of an S.O.B..."

"What part of 'don't make a pun' do you not understand?" James asks, but there is a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Sorry," Sirius mutters, not particularly sounding it.

"Don't worry about it." James leans down, brushing his lips across Sirius's before placing his head on the other man's chest. Uncrossing his arms, Sirius wraps them around James and scoots down further on the bed. "Can we sleep now?"

"Mm." Sirius nods, one hand moving up to brush at James's hair. "... Love?"

"Yeah?"

"... d'you want to get married?"

"Oh." James pauses. "Seriously?"

Sirius nods.

"Er, not really."

"Yeah." Sirius's fingers pause in James's hair, then move down to the side of his neck. "Me, neither."

For a moment, James doesn't react. Then he chuckles. Sirius does, too.

"Problem solved, then," James says, laughing fully now.

"Indeed," agrees Sirius, craning his neck to drop a kiss on James's head.

"Now can we sleep? I really am quite knackered."

"'s all that running."

James yawns. "Probably."

"You idiot," Sirius says affectionately, closing his eyes. "Night, love."

"G'night," James says, snuggling even closer.

Wednesday, 13 June 1984

Dear Sirius,
What do you do if someone you love dearly has done something terrible, and confessed the whole thing to you? We're talking a serious crime here. On one hand, I don't feel this is something to take lightly, but on the other hand, a) I don't want this person to go to prison, and b) I was told about this in confidence. Do you have any advice whatsoever?
/Conflicted

Dear Conflicted,
In my opinion, what you should do depends on what type of "serious crime" this person committed. I mean, was it murder? Because in that case I'd say your only REAL option was to turn them in, that "in confidence" notwithstanding... But if they, say, ripped off the government for a great deal of money? Beat up someone who deserved it? In those cases, you're still rather obligated to take some kind of corrective action — not necessarily the kind of action that requires breaking their confidence and/or turning them over to go to prison — since they're all rather wrong on some level, even if it is only legally. Just... take steps to ensure they know that what they've done is wrong, and won't do it again?
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
What is wrong with your fireplace, are you dating this Ivy girl, and if you are, will you go out with me too?
/Alexa

Dear Alexa,
Our fireplace only lets approved people through, Ivy is my friend, and no I'm afraid I can't go out with you. I don't go out with more than one person at once.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Why won't my mummy let me eat sweets for supper? I would much prefer to have gummy worms rather than broccoli but she says no. Why is she so mean to me?
/John, aged 8

Dear John,
If she let you eat sweets for supper, you'd have a horrid tummy ache all night, and it would be so bad you wouldn't want to eat them for ages and ages afterwards! Your mummy knows this and, really, she's not being mean, she's making sure you always feel well enough to eat your sweets the next day. (Broccoli is a bit gross, isn't it? I pretend it's really the tops of little tiny fairy trees that I just chopped off. Makes it taste much better!)
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
For almost ten years I've been looking forward to the day my husband would retire, and all of the fun and exciting things we'd be able to do then. Now that day finally has arrived, but he's refusing to leave the country! He keeps complaining that everywhere is too hot or too cold, or that the food is disgusting (all he wants to eat is shepherd's pie) or that the people are too lazy or too noisy, etc etc. How can I get him to stop being such a xenophobe and take me to Morocco already?!
/Stuck in Blighty

Dear Stuck,
Use the Imperius...? Drug him and drag him to the Portkey while he's too out of it to protest? Try a bit of affectionate extortion? Or maybe just tell him that you're going, and if he doesn't want to come with, he can stay home and rot by himself?
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Is there any way to convince oneself to fall back in love with their spouse? I really don't want to get a divorce (I have young children, and I don't want them to grow up in a broken home) but I'm just not in love with my husband anymore. I do love him as a friend, though -- what do I do?
/Ellen

Dear Ellen,
Ouch. (Though congratulations to you for not going straight for divorce and the easy out!) My first impulse is to suggest that you start investing in Love Potions, but that's not really a solution, is it? In that it won't, y'know, solve anything. Have you tried talking to your husband about this? I think that ought to be your first step. Another good one might be revisiting some of the things from when you first got together — say, hire a babysitter and take your husband out to wherever you had your first date, things like that — and trying to figure out why you fell in love with him to begin with. Good luck!
Sirius

Friday, 15 June 1984

Dear Sirius,
My ex-husband and I have shared custody of our three young children, and I have a problem: he keeps badmouthing me to them! Every time they come back from their father's he's told them something new and horrible about me, like I'm stupid, an idiot, an old hag, they shouldn't listen to me.... what can I do to make him see this is NOT good co-parenting? Help!!
/Useless?

Dear Useless,
Why, that butthead! Hexing him won't help, I gather... which is unfortunate. Have you tried confronting him about this? Verbally, I mean. If you have, and that didn't work, you might try talking to his mother or other close relative — if there are any sympathetic to you — and getting THEM to confront him, and if *that* still doesn't work, well, I'm back to hexing. Or getting a judge or someone to tell him to man up and stop being a brat.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I'm sick and tired of the rain in this country. I need to move somewhere else. I'd prefer somewhere with seasons like here, only less rain. I only speak English and I can't be bothered to learn a new langauge. Where do you think I should move?
/Brolly

Dear Brolly,
Um, the States? Somewhere in the middle, though, not at the top or bottom — I hear the Midwest is nice.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
I think I'd like it if my boyfriend wore womens underwear. How do I bring this up without him thinking I'm strange and perverted?
/Alice

Dear Alice,
Have him stay the night over at your place, only while he's asleep, destroy any and all possible articles of men's underwear in the place. Innocently offer him yours.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Why do Muggles smoke those weird little papery things?
/Trudy

Dear Trudy,
Because those weird little papery things are bitter and nasty and bad for you and awesome.
Sirius

Dear Sirius,
Congratulations on your promotion! Does this mean you'll be covering the next world cup in two years' time?
/Excited

Dear Excited,
Quite possibly, yes!! At least, I'm definitely hoping! (And not just because then the Prophet would pay for my ticket, either.)
Sirius