Frigus . Sirius Black (Mortem BOOK 2)

chapter forty-five

a/n: for purposes of me being too lazy to figure it out, morning breath doesn't exist in the HP universe. wizards wake up and their breath smells like fresh mint and strawberries, got it? 

a/n #2: also, enjoy Sirius and Nephera being ridicoulously sweet and gross with each other, because i skipped out on that last chapter :) 

October 27th, 1979 - Grimmauld Place 

Sirius stirred in bed, stopping short when he went to turn the other way but couldn't, due to something weighing down his chest. He was confused for a moment, shaking his head to rid himself of the sleep only to find Nephera, still sleeping, with her head on his chest. He smiled as the memories of last night came back to him, she was back. 

They were both so tired last night, they'd barely had any time to talk. Only showered, ate some dinner that Kreacher had made for them, and then fell straight into bed. He wasn't complaining, not when that was the best sleep he'd had in months. He took a moment to look at her, as creepy as it sounded, for he thought she always looked the most beautiful when she was sleeping. Her face was completely relaxed, for once void of the hard expression she typically wore in public. 

He pushed some of her hair away from her face, bringing a hand up to trace over the scar there as he sighed quietly. He didn't mind it one bit, if anything he thought it made her more beautiful, more interesting to anyone who looked at her, but he knew she hated it. Hell, she was still insecure about the ones on her back and stomach, which she could conceal and weren't even visible to anyone. 

The brunette stirred once she felt his touch on her, and he held his breath, relaxing when she didn't wake up. He didn't want her to wake up and disrupt her, it was rare for either of them to sleep as much as they had last night. He pressed a kiss on her temple, looking up at the ceiling and smiling. 

That morning was so much different than the rest he'd had in Grimmauld. He hadn't woken up in cold sweat because of a nightmare, he wasn't rushing to get out of bed so he could leave the house, he was actually happy to be there. For a few moments, all was well in the world, until it hit him. 

Work. 

He was very fucking late to work, and Moody would tear him a new one, "Shit, shit, shit," he cursed quietly 

He didn't want to leave the bed, it was comfortable and warm and Nephera was there, but the war didn't wait, and neither did Alastor Moody. Still, she was back, he didn't want to leave her, not for one fucking second, "Kreacher," he whisper-shouted, "Kreacher!" 

The elf popped into the room, scowling as usual, "What can-" 

"Shh! She's sleeping, you idiot! Write a letter to Alastor Moody, tell him I can't come to work because I'm sick," and then, as an afterthought, "And start on breakfast, too," 

The elf bowed dramatically and exited the room, mumbling under his breath about something Sirius didn't catch, as he made his way down the corridor to the study to write the letter

"What's going on?" murmured Nephera, stirring in bed and nuzzling into his chest 

"Nothing, mon coeur, just told Kreacher to write to Moody, tell him I'm sick," 

She smiled sleepily, "He'll never fall for it, you know that, right?" 

"Don't really care, I just want to stay here. Kreacher's  making breakfast," he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on her lips, "Did I tell you how much I missed you?" 

She smiled into the kiss, "Only ten times, or so, but I like hearing it so it's fine," she grinned, resting her head back on his chest and pulling him closer against her