Eunoia | Sirius Black

|58|

Whitehall, London, 1978
October 15th, 1978

Today we get to remove our badges. 

Every trainee gets one when they become an Auror to show that they're new. If they prove themselves perfectly capable to be a good Auror, they get to remove it. 

Sirius, James, Dorcas and I have been on the most missions lately and we aced every single one of them. 

My favourite one was the ambush at the Death Eaters' meeting spot in the heart of London. And I hated the one where we had to return with 7 casualties. 

Sirius and I have only been on two missions together. Both were ambushes. I wish we had more time free but we don't usually. 

He has to go on more critical missions because he's better at duelling than I am. I usually get to go on ones where we have injured people because I'm good at alchemy. 

He had the highest score on his Battle Instinct test, Stealth and tracking test and Resilience training. I had the highest in Concealment and disguise, Best-Laid plans test and Poisons and Antidotes training. 

At this point, everyone kind of knew we were fuck buddies. Some even teased me about it but one glare from Sirius and they went scurrying with their tail between their legs. 

When I get home from another damned day, exhausted and absolutely crippled with sleep deprivation, I get a patronus from Sirius informing me he'd be late. 

I don't send one back, I know he knows I've gotten his message. Sometimes, I think we should get a better means of communication. Look at the muggles and their ingenious brains for instance. And us communicating through translucent animals and birds. 

I move into my bedroom for a change of clothes, removing my sleeveless turtleneck and black leather pants along with the combat boots that have been killing me. 

After an hour-long bath which mostly consisted of me sinking into the hot water in the bathtub and groaning and moaning in pain, I change into my pjs and walk back down expecting Sirius to be home by now. 

He's not home. 

Frowning, I remind myself he already sent me a patronus and didn't specify the time so it's alright. 

I cook us butter chicken and pour wine into glasses, putting a static charm on them so the food doesn't get cold.

I wait and wait and wait and Sirius doesn't come home. 

When it strikes three A.M. and the cuckoo of the annoying bird clock that Sirius brought chimes a melody, I am out of my mind with anxiety. 

I know that I'm doing a very domestic thing right now, waiting for a man with food ready but Sirius is first and foremost my friend and then comes the benefits part. 

I'm nervous as fuck, my legs tapping restlessly and hands shaking slightly when the front door opens and I jump out of my place on the couch. 

"Sirius?" I call out. "Sirius, is that you?"

There's a loud groan and the sound of something crashing. My heartbeat picks up and I pull out my wand from the waistband of my shorts, moving stealthily towards the foyer. 

When I get there, however, my heart stops entirely. I nearly scream when I see Sirius on the ground, a broken vase near him and his entire face bloody along with all his clothes. 

"Sirius, no —"

"El—." He rasps. 

I run to the bathroom and turn the hot water on in the bathtub, putting inside a few antiseptics before rushing back towards Sirius.

I help him to his feet which takes me approximately three minutes for he leans his entire weight on my bad side. My clothes are as covered in blood as his by the time we manage to reach the bathroom. 

He sits his arse on the edge of the bathtub and breathlessly whimpers. My heart is a hummingbird against my ribs as I start to remove his clothes. 

His cloak goes first, dry blood crisps falling on the tiles. The white shirt completely red goes next and then his pants which takes me considerably longer to get off his legs. I take off his boxers and gasp at his abdomen wounds. 

There are bluish-purple areas all over his torso. A few clean slices that are undoubtedly dark magic. 

Heart in throat, I gently lay him down in the bathtub and he groans loudly when the water touches his bruises. Clenching his eyes shut, he lets me clean him with a washcloth. 

It takes me longer than it would have anyone else because half the time, I have to look away so my eyes don't water. I cannot see him this way, I hope I never do again. At the same time, I also hope that if something like this happens in the future, I'm the one to help him. I have multi attitudes. 

When the blood is off him, I make him sit in the tub while I start to apply antiseptics and dry him steadily so he doesn't have to completely get out. 

As the water grows cold, he's a little in control of his body and I don't have to do all the hard work as we walk toward his bedroom. 

I haven't been in here except for when we were fucking. Even though we have sex, I don't let him hold me after. He doesn't stay anyway, so on the days I feel like sleeping beside him, I am grateful.

The room smells like him, like mahogany and leather and smoke and I force myself to concentrate on the problem at hand as he collapses on top of his bed. 

For a moment I'm scared to think of what would've happened had I not been here to help him. He would've passed out on the foyer, something worse — my eyes snap shut. I can't even think of what could've happened.

I take out my wand and heal the cuts and bruises the best I can, though only one needs muggle bandaging, he's lost a lot of blood. Sirius groans when I lower him on the bed and fluff out the pillows under his head. 

Taking out blood replenishing potion from the first aid kit, I sit beside him, silently crying as he sleeps. 

In the morning, I might notice the cold food or the accidentally spilt wine but at that moment, all I did was hold Sirius Black's hand and pray to Merlin, Morgana, Arthur or whoever would listen that he be alright.