꧁ʙᴏʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜʀᴘʟᴇ꧂

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 94

꧁✧✧✧꧂

𝕺ne thing was established from the very beginning.

"Oh, they're — in love — in love"

The declaration was made by Sirius, but the waggish quartet collectively drew to the same epoch-making conclusion. It wasn't a long and hard conclusion to reach, the live scene unfolding in front of them practically spelling it out.

Cosily huddled up on a single seat of the pretty spacious couch opposite, one on one, attention unshared and undivided, Romie and Regulus. Chatting quietly. Chatting with more than just their mouths. Their peeled yet soft eyes soaking up every minor detail, their discreetly affectionate hands taking turns stroking and being stroked, their thudding hearts in perfect sync — all having little conversations of their own. And it was abundantly clear nothing, no one could stand in the way.

"I can see his teeth. He has those" James says in wonder, edging forward with a squint for a better view of the new groundbreaking discovery.

Not long arrived Peter pauses his Christmas cookie chomping, spraying the rug with an abundance of crumbs as he mutters,

"I've seen them before. When he hexed Padfoot with that horn tongue hex in third year"

Sirius' focus deflects to him, his sequence of blinks impelled by the same disgruntlement decipherable in his reply,

"Cheers for that reminder, Wormtail"

Unbothered, Peter merely continues fitting as many of the homemade biscuits into his mouth as possible, moaning at the delicious taste. Whilst Sirius is desperately eager to leave him and his present lover be, his grey eyes don't return to the room's core focus. They drift towards his own, silently sitting not too far away, trapped in a brown study.

Remus Lupin's face was unreadable, a huge step from the frequented glower promising nothing but long, excruciating put down. Not a single eyebrow hair pointed down, still in their scruffy early morning tired face rub array. Sirius knows he knows his eyes are fixed on him, just like he knows he couldn't bear to meet them. Manifested fate needs to be digested first.

Unlike James and Peter, stiffening at the quiet creak of springs and slipper shuffling of footsteps, Sirius relaxes, his heart swollen in his chest as Remus perches on the arm of the couch behind his smitten baby sister. He clears his throat, stunning the lion's share of the room in his gruff command. Because it's not directed to the expected.

"We're nipping out for some last minute bits. Go get ready"

Fleetingly pulling out of the trance of fierce violet, Regulus slides his piercing gaze to the slightly older being, apprising matter-of-factly.

"I don't take orders—"

"Go"

His eyes fall to the capricious girl he's spent the best half of an hour maximising real, genuine and true smiles of, forcing Sirius to chew the inside of his cheek to prevent his loud bark of laughter at the pathetically compliant expression his bland face morphs into. At this rate, magically bound Kreacher could be given a run for his money.