One Step Ahead part I | Sirius Black

Chapter 69

{{I tried so hard to make this a mature chapter because I think I'm hilarious—but it didn't time out right. Oh well! Xoxo}}

Gwen hums quietly to herself, making up the guest room. Sirius had practically moved into hers. Just in time really, because they'd both agreed that they should invite the lads to the beach. She'd been certain James was especially eager. Sirius smirked when she had closed her eyes in front of him, standing silently as she added it to her mental list of things to do. Write to James and Remus and Peter.

"Your charm. Is that on purpose?"

She looks up at his slightly dazed voice, quickly shutting down her humming. He was leaning against the doorway, head tilted and lips parted slightly. She smiles slightly, offering apologetically, "Sorry. I'm not used to someone being here. I've grown used to humming."

Sirius shrugs a little and murmurs, "It's okay...it's nice."

She quirks a brow at him, smiling as he flushes and relents, "It feels...good. Calming. Though I'm certain you could drive me mad with it."

Gwen smiles and says flatly, "I'll keep that in mind, Black."

He rolls his eyes at her unbothered tone, shuffling closer to grab her waist and pull her closer. His mouth slants against hers, soft and slow. Gwen's hands on the sheets falter, itching to touch him. But she has things to do. She pulls back, hesitating before pecking his lips one more time.

Sirius grins down at her, mumbling, "You're cute, Ninnie." His smile only gets wider when she responds sarcastically, "I'm adorable. Now quit distracting me, I'm busy."

"Want me to write to the lads?" Sirius offers, gently rubbing her back. They'd traded out their bathing suits for comfier clothes, Sirius deciding pretty easily that Gwenyth Whitlock in sweatpants and her French national quittich team shirt was even better than seeing her in her tiny swim things. Though it was close.

Gwen peers up at him and shrugs, replying, "If you want." He has to try to not laugh. Spending so much time with her was giving him a chance to catch up, to understand the nuances of her blunt words or bored tone. This one meant that, yes, she would like him to do it. His thoughts are only confirmed when she adds in a seemingly unassuming voice, "There's a writing desk down in the family room. It's unlocked."

Sirius chuckles and nods, pressing a quick kiss to her slightly pink cheeks before walking out of the room and down the stairs. He appraised the main room silently, letting out a contented noise when he spots the desk under a window.

He smirks to himself at the mess of parchment and ink stains and quills strewn about when he opens it up. She was so orderly in the kitchen, in every other part of the house. Everything had a very specific place where it was meant to go. But her desk was a disaster. It made sense, writing was close to the things she didn't like to do—studying and reading something other than her magazines.

Sirius chuckles at a familiar green wrapper, brushing it aside before he pulls out the chair and sits down sideways at the desk so he can see out of the back window. He lifts up some of the used parchment, eyes tracing the doodles and scribbles and splotches of ink. He can practically see her sitting here, groaning out loud as she writes.

His brows furrowed at the open envelopes, eyes lingering on the different addresses. He recognized Peter's and James',  Marlene and Lily and Dorcas. His eyes widen slightly at what seemed to be from Albus Dumbledore. He quickly looks away. He didn't want to pry. The letters were sparse, she hadn't written to anyone much it seemed. He reaches for a fresh length of parchment, stopping short as his eyes trace familiar handwriting.

Sirius swallows past the sudden lump in his throat, his fingers carefully extracting a letter. He looks over his shoulder at the stairs, feeling slightly nervous. He knows he shouldn't be doing this. But that doesn't stop him.

Margaux,

Thank you for writing. I don't hear much from the outside world these days. Only you and once or twice from your friend. He's been rather kind.

The healers say that I've recovered nicely, no lasting impact beyond the scars that is. Father was angry, I'm not sure what he was hoping to achieve. Not death. That would be too kind. Mother just ignores, as always. I find refuge in Kreacher, he sneaks me food and tea and parchment to write to you.

How are the tulips? And the town? I liked the beads you sent me. I even keep them under my pillow like you said. I've never really believed muggles were smart, but perhaps they're on to something with these. I haven't had a nightmare since you sent them.

I'm glad you're company will be there soon. I know you miss him. I do too.

Write again soon.

Yours Truly,

Regulus

"Catching up on some reading?"

Sirius doesn't jump, doesn't try to explain. He just turns his head and looks at the Veela standing at the bottom of the stairs.

Gwen's eyes soften, studying the way he's covering his mouth with a fist, leaning on his elbow on the desk. The letter, a letter from Regulus, hangs limply in his other hand. Slowly, she walks to him. Gwen carefully takes the letter from his hand and kneels down in front of him. Her heart clenches at the sight of his eyes. He looked this way when he first appeared on the beach around Christmas. War torn. Traumatized. Guilty.

She crosses her arms and rests them on his knees, looking up at him calmly. The hand that was holding the letter moves to her shoulder, holding her there firmly. He stares above her head, throat raw with emotion. His baby brother. Hurt. Abandoned. He'd left him.

"Sirius."

He can't look at her. He wishes he could go back. Not read this letter. Because he'd been floating on a cloud of happiness. But this morning in bed with her now seemed far away. Him asking her to be his girlfriend didn't feel real. He finally looks, to check that she is here. That she is in fact real.

Her eyes are so open, so steady. He moves his clenched hand away from his mouth, instead tangling his fingers in the ends of her soft hair.

"Margaux," He says quietly, testing the words on his tongue. Gwen smiles faintly and murmurs, "My middle name. He told me to use my middle name, just in case they found out that the Veela who goes to Hogwarts goes by Gwen."

Sirius knew his brother. He did that to protect her. Not himself. Sirius closes his eyes and takes in a shaky breath, speaking as he exhales, "I can't believe I left him there."

"You tried. You tried to get him to go with you. He knows that, Sirius. He's mad at himself, not at you."

Sirius groans to himself, so frustrated that he can't see straight. He feels ill. He feels like he needs to go to Grimmauld place and kidnap his brother. He swallows down bile and asks hoarsely,

"Why didn't he come with me?"

Gwen sighs, gently leaning her head into his palm as he cups her cheek. His eyes flicker open and Gwen feels a pang in her chest. Unshed tears linger in the pools of grey.

"I'm not sure," Gwen says quietly. She squeezes his knee, her voice hesitant and small, like she's afraid he'll disapprove, "I wrote him yesterday morning. Before we went to town. I told him that you were here, and that we would be happy for him to join us."

Sirius stares at her blankly for a few moments, blinking at her as her cheeks turn pink. Then he hauls her up into his lap and brings her face to his, crashing their mouths together for a heart wrenching kiss.

Gwen melts into him, relieved that he's not angry. Relieved that he'd read the letter. Because it showed him that his brother was not lost to the darkness.

That while Regulus may not be actively fighting it, he wasn't ready to succumb to the things his parents and the dark wizard they worshiped believed in.

Hiding the muggle beads below his pillow was his brother's first act of rebellion.