delicate ✷ sirius black

VI. stars are born to burn

Sirius strolled into the Library on the following Sunday, wearing dark jeans, boots, a muggle band t-shirt, and an ever-so-slight smirk on his lips, carrying nothing with him except his leather jacket in the crook of his elbow and the arrogance of someone who always got what they wanted.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It was a rather peculiar sight, watching Sirius Black strut between the shelves of knowledge and wisdom with those heavy boots of his—after all, he wasn't a frequent visitor of the Library's ancient halls. His demanding and sultry presence wickedly contradicted the sacred space he swaggered through, staining mahogany floors and ageing leather spines with glimmers of rebellious stardust and shadows of self-assured confidence.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Sirius found Sadie tucked away at a table in a back corner, large windows spilling golden sunlight upon her fair head and bathing her in an ethereal glow. Her sinewy legs were curled beneath her, her chin propped on her hand as her caramel eyes scanned the textbook she was devouring, lips tracing unintelligible words and letters as she went. She was wearing shockingly light clothing considering the bitter frost of the November winter outside the Library's warm interior—only a short suede skirt and a thin turtleneck, her knee-high boots placed neatly beside her chair and her hair pulled back into a fluffy ponytail.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Sadie seemed to melt right into the very fabric of the Library—as if her bones were made of parchment and her blood ran black with ink. She appeared like an oasis might to a dying man in a desert; shimmering, hazy, and so delicate, one would fear to breathe too deeply, lest they blow the glimmer of a girl away.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Sadie startled as Sirius slid into the seat opposite her, leaning back in his chair with a handsome grin and his arms folded across his chest. "Fancy seeing you here," he said coyly, observing her wide-eyed gaze with a cocked head.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Fancy seeing you here." Though Sadie's replying echo was quiet and soft, her shoulders remained rigid, as if the gleam of the winter sun was melting the skin from her bones and she was trying her very best to keep her flesh together. She tucked her fringe behind her ears, clearing her throat as she pulled a sheet of parchment from her leather bag. "Um, Slughorn gave me a list of topics he wants me to cover with you—mainly essay writing and structuring, um, and a few other things. I thought we could just start with the basics today, so..." She hesitated for a moment, and Sirius watched her face carefully as she slowly retrieved an unfamiliar textbook from her bag.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Confusion creased Sirius's brows as his fingertips splayed over the title of the worn-out book—EXCELLING AT ENGLISH: A GUIDE TO WRITING ESSAYS. He flicked narrowed eyes up at Sadie's curiously guilty face.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ One of her hands darted out to tuck away her hair once more as she said quietly, "I know some wizards think muggle textbooks are foolish—but this one is rather brilliant, and I thought—"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "You're muggleborn?"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Sadie stumbled over the end of her sentence, blinking owlishly at him for a few seconds as she struggled to voice her thoughts. Sirius thought her fawn-like guileless rather endearing. "No, no—well, my mother is. I'm a half-blood." She shook her head, mumbling something under her breath as her shoulders went rigid once more and she inhaled deeply through her pert nose, eyes dancing from the book to Sirius's face as she waited with bated breath for his reply.