InsaneJournal

One Shot, Two Shot, Three Shot, Floor
Characters: Dorcas Meadowes and Sirius Black
Date: Saturday, May 30, 1978, evening
Location: Hog's Head, Hogsmeade
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Years of taunting culminates in a drink.
Status: Complete



"He's a flipping prat," Dorcas grumbled as she finger-combed her wavy dark hair into place, leaning over the sink in one of the girl's restrooms. Her hair, for all that she was fussing with it, still retained a vaguely tousled look to it, as if she'd been rolling around on the floor. It always looked like that, unless it was either shellacked into place or pulled back into a ponytail or bun. Her make-up was light, barely there in fact, with the exception of the dark kohl that lined her upper lids and a liberal application of shiny gloss on her lips. She wasn't a make up kind of girl. She wasn't even a dress-wearing kind of girl, but there she was, wearing both. And for what? For drinks with Sirius "I'm an egotistical nonce" Black. Why was she going through all this trouble, anyways?

Oh yes. Because she was an idiot.

She was an idiot because he'd provoked her, and poked her, and prodded her until she'd lost her mind and asked him out for drinks that weekend. It was the last Hogsmeade weekend of the school year and, in a few weeks, they'd be out of school. For good. No more herbology, or transfiguration, or potions. This was the last hurrah and the last opportunity she'd have to be that girl: The Girl Out With Sirius. There'd been, in her estimation, hundreds of them over the years, but that didn't matter. It'd be her that evening.

Oh yes. She was an idiot. An idiot for wanting to be that girl in the first place, knowing what a "love 'em and leave 'em" type he was.

A heavy sigh heaved her shoulders. "And this is about as good as it's going to get. How do I look, Marlene?" She turned her attention to her friend, looking for the validation and support she needed in that moment.

"You're going to knock him dead in that dress," Marlene said with a chuckle. The dress shed picked out and had borrowed from her elder sister, Merry, was certainly a piece of work. Made of soft, supple navy-colored leather, the dress hugged her spare curves from the squared neck-line through the sleeveless armholes that opened almost all the way to her waist until her hips, where it flared into an pleated skirt that fell just above her knees. It was meant to be worn with a top beneath it, but she'd decided to up the daring factor (as if a solid leather dress wasn't daring enough) and forgo the top and even a bra. She wasn't terribly well-endowed in the boob department, so it wasn't a necessary article of clothing most of the time. From the front or rear, it was a perfectly nice, conservative dress. It was only from the side that it became daring.

Dori smiled warmly at the other girl, giving her a brief hug. "Thanks. I needed to hear that." She checked her watch and nodded, backing out with her clutch in her hand. "Okay, I've got fifteen minutes to get down there. Wish me luck?"

"Break a leg, tiger."

A skirt-chaser, he was not. Not in the classic sense of the term, anyway. Generally speaking the world of women was divided into two parts: those for talking and chatting and joking and flirting, and those who were amusing for a few evenings. Or afternoons. Sirius didn't much care for the term 'disposable,' but no girls from that second category had much staying power. Temporary. More like treats. Pleasant, sordid little diversions. By and large, Sirius let the girls pick which category they wished to be sorted into. Dori was certainly amusing enough that Sirius didn't find himself bored in her company, but it wasn't as if Sirius was blind. Besides, in the grand scheme of things, they weren't what he would call particularly close friends anyway - not that Sirius counted more than a couple of people as close friends, and certainly none of them from the fairer sex - so when she invariably wound up hating him in a couple of weeks, it surely wouldn't be some significant loss. And after all, just because that was what usually happened didn't mean that it was inevitable. Dori was clever, and it wasn't as if Sirius put up much pretense about who he was. As it pertained to 'relationships,' anyway.

Sirius had a habit of getting dressed without much conscious thought about the process; it was a wholly tactile endeavor. Worn but still-dark denim that seemed to perch low on his hips more than anything else, but belts always seemed such an absurd inconvenience. A blind skimming of his hands through the trunk of clothes had his attention ensnared by a thin, alluring material. That the black material of the long sleeved shirt was, in fact, just a bit sheer registered in only a peripheral way. Sirius's fixation on soft things stemmed directly from his appreciation for touching soft things. And for being touched because he was wearing soft things. His fingertips were rather idly stroking along the center of his abdomen as he contemplated a jacket. The weather was probably warm enough that he could do without, and it wasn't as if he was somehow unable to perform a simple warming charm, so he thought better of the coat entirely. Stepping into a rather simple set of black boots that only came up to his ankle, he idly supposed that Remus and Peter were likely already downstairs, maybe with James and Evans. Neither Remus nor Peter seemed terribly pleased or surprised that Sirius had made plans with 'some girl' for their last Hogsmeade weekend. With a lazy drag of his hand through his hair, Sirius descended the stairs, perfectly content and prepared to ignore Peter's moping face and the inevitable quiet roll of Remus's eyes.

He got to the Hog's Head first, and he couldn't quite figure out if that had been his intention of it was just how things tended to sort themselves out. It was difficult for Sirius to give much credence to a woman who showed up on time. He'd much rather be waiting for fifteen minutes and have her appear sensational than acknowledge her esteem for punctuality. Besides, girls who didn't make him wait always came off a little too eager. Eagerness was fine, and it wasn't as if he blamed them, but it just got redundant. Interesting topped boring any day of the week. So Sirius settled in to a quiet booth on the far side of the endearingly shady establishment, picking a position still in view of the door. He kicked out his legs along the length of the bench, crossing his ankles as he lifted a cigarette to his lips, setting the leather bound case on the uneven tabletop. Popping an elbow to rest along the table, he pulled a stream of spiced smoke into his lungs, letting it stream back out the corner of his mouth a moment later, and waited.

Dori had given herself fifteen minutes to get down to the Hog's Head. However, she'd definitely underestimated the amount of time it would take her to walk down hill, at dusk, over uneven terrain, in boots with four-inch heels. About half-way down the hill, she'd considered Apparating the rest of the way, but there was the whole splinching thing to think about. Plus, what if she did that and lost some of her clothing? She wasn't wearing much to begin with and if anything happened to this dress, Merry would kill her. Litterally. In a terribly painful and bloody fashion. And death wasn't exactly on her list of things to do that day.

So she was somewhere in the neighborhood of ten minutes late to the pub in Hogsmeade. But other than the high flush in her cheeks, she was no worse for wear. It took a moment until her eyes adjusted to the dim light, so she stood at the door for a moment, raking a hand through her hair to push it out of her face, scanning the interior for Sirius. On finding him, a smirk pulled at her lips, lighting in her unevenly colored eyes, and she crossed the floor toward his booth.

"Been waiting long?"

Well, well, well. It wasn't a surprise, exactly, the way Dori cleaned up, he just hadn't quite expected her to turn up in something made entirely of leather. Sirius enjoyed few things more than having his expectations surpassed. A small smile sliced across his lips as he made no effort to conceal the way his eyes poured over her. After all, when a girl when to the trouble of putting herself together so well, to not appreciate it would be little short of flat out rude.

"Just long enough, it seems," he replied, feeling quite optimistic about the whole evening.

It certainly was a far stretch from the grit and dirt of a quidditch ensemble. The whole sweaty athlete thing certainly had its charm, but that charm was pretty relegated to fooling around in the showers after a match. But the way she looked now had him completely forgetting that he was supposed to still be at least a little put out over the amount of gold she'd helped him loose. He knew the odds had been for Hufflepuff, but there was something about House Pride in the face of imminent defeat that seemed kind of tragically enticing. There was just the final match left, and as far as Sirius was concerned, that was a match that was pure business.

"Have trouble finding the place?" he couldn't help musing, the words laced with a wry sort of tone.

"You know, I believe I've been here a time or two," Dori chuckled as she slid into the empty seat across from him, smoothing out the pleated skirt as she moved. "I'd like to see you make better time walking down that hill in heels this high." Actually, now that she thought about it, Sirius would probably do quite well. He had those long legs of his. They gave him a much longer stride.

She had been keenly aware of how he'd taken in her dress and, after one heart-stopping moment, had deepened her smirk. Dori had noted the flicker of surprise crossing his features. Being appreciated was far better than being forgettable.

"Have you ordered yet?"

"I'm not anywhere near drunk enough to to waltzing about in heels," he countered with a small shake of his head, tapping a bit of ash into a rather dingy looking receptacle near the middle of the table.

It wasn't a challenge he hadn't heard before. There had been some cute little Ravenclaw blond who'd had a penchant for what she called 'six in pumps' and at one point in the evening, as he'd been mapping out the slopes of her legs they'd gotten into a very significant philosophical discussion of women's shoes. Though he didn't quite remember how he'd wound up in a pair of candy-apple red patent pumps, he'd gleaned from the experience an utter lack of comprehension as to just what it was women complained about.

"Without the lady who's footing the bill for evening? Wouldn't dream of it," he scoffed. "So what're we drinking, something dainty or something fun?"

Dori made a show of considering the question, her eyes flicking back and forth as she pretended to think over all of her options. They were at the Hog's Head, not the Three Broomsticks. Of course she was going to opt for something fun. As much as she took after her former ballerina mother, she was still her father's daughter and she had still been raised on a farm.

Finally, she nodded. "Something fun. Who wants to drink something girly?"

Sirius flashed her a grin, but said nothing as he slipped from the booth and headed to the bar. He didn't have anything against something girly, though he suspected the closest thing to a girly drink they'd find in this place was probably mead. Besides, the general idea had been to skip wasting time on the light stuff, hence the way he'd put the question to her. The gruff looking man behind the bar wasn't a stranger to Sirius. They weren't quite what he'd call friends, likely because he was still a student, but Sirius always tipped well enough to court a bit of good favor.

When he returned to the table, he set down a pair of tall shot glasses and a slender dark blue bottle. The label bore only an image of three monkeys sitting next to each other: one with its hands over its eyes, the next with its hands covering its ears, and the last with its have over its mouth. Sitting down, he held his cigarette between his lips as h filled up each shot glass about half-way, the clear liquid turning an inky black shade as it came in contact with the glasses. Sliding one across the table to her, he pulled the cigarette from his lips and somewhat languidly lifted his own glass.

"To very gracious losers," he offered by way of a toast, his lips curling lightly.

"To betting on the underdog. Let us not make that mistake again, lest we lose massive amounts of gold along with our dignity and self-esteem."

Dori was only teasing him, of course, as she lifted the shot glass, touching it to Sirius's gently. She waited for a moment, watching Sirius as she moved the glass to her lips. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, or this place, or this drink... It was just that... well, she didn't trust him. Or this place. Or this drink.

The tilt of his lips was perhaps a little too smug for someone had officially lost a good bit of money betting on Gryffindor, but Sirius was hardly inclined to explain that the best position to be in for any bet was the House Seat. Win or lose, the house always won. Not that anyone else needed to be aware of that fact. Peter was the one who actually ran the books on the issue - for any of his other shortcomings, Pete had crafty sort of way for squirreling with numbers.

Sirius downed the shot, flavors of black cherry and cinnamon and honey bit and burning along his tongue. Warmth unfurled along his throat, tendrils of it creeping into his stomach. Merlin, but he loved this stuff.

"One might argue that one must first have dignity, in order to loose it," he pointed out. As far as self-esteem went... some people had low self-esteem, some people had high, but Sirius? Sirius simply had a perfectly objective grasp of how exceptional he was.

Dori tossed back the shot, pleasantly surprised by the smooth taste and feel of it sliding down her throat. It was deceptive, though. A drink this palatable always was. It'd come back to kick her in the ass later.

"True. You need to possess dignity before you can lose it, and dignity isn't necessarily something innate. Take Severus Snape. I wouldn't call him dignified by any definition, though I'm sure he tries to be."

The genuine merriment to Sirius's expression paled at bit at the mention of Snape. For the life of him, Sirius couldn't understand why anyone would want to bring him up in the midst of the beginning to a perfectly enjoyable evening. His own sentiments, on the pretentious, warped sort of half-blood mind it took to so greedily guzzle down all the Death Eater doctrine was beyond him. It was positively loathsome, the desperation that had to drive people like Snape. They were the sort of people just begging to be put back in their place. Saying such things, however, they could sometimes be taken... not out of context, but they had a penchant for being misunderstood. So Sirius kept his mouth shut on the subject.

"I figure dignity's like perfume," Sirius ventured, all too keen to reroute the subject as he poured them both a second shot. "Those who use it tend not to notice it." The tip of his slender middle finger began to tease around the rim of his shot glass as his gaze lifted to hers. "So how about you- what sort of perfume do you wear?"

It could have been an inane sort of question, though Sirius delivered it as if there was some profound significance to it. If she took it literally, that was fine, but if she delved into metaphor, well, that could be interesting, too.

If there had ever been a loaded question, that one was certainly it. Dori took her time considering the answer, unconsciously mirroring Sirius's movements in playing with her shot glass, but she leaned over the table, resting her weight on her elbows, opposed to the relaxed, easy grace of his posture. The position exposed a fair bit of skin at her bare sides.

"See... telling you would be cheating," she said with a grin. "Isn't it supposed to be more 'fun' if you find out all on your own?"

Well, when she had a point, she had a point. Sirius was certainly a big enough to acknowledge that. And if ever he'd heard an invitation for increased proximity, that certainly sounded like one to him. After knocking back only half his shot, he slipped from the booth, and eased himself in next to her.

"Harder to tell, from all the way over there," he offered by way of a bemused explanation. His smirk tipped up again- he really could just barely believe that that dress was all she had on. He didn't stare, because Sirius never really stared at anything, but he let his eyes wander for a moment. The tone of his voice went a little softer, almost as if he was speaking aloud to himself as he mentioned, "Very nice dress, by the way."

Dori scooted over to accommodate Sirius when it was obvious what his intentions were. She couldn't say that she was surprised, not when her body language and even her clothing was screaming for him to get closer, but it was still enough to make her heart pound from adrenaline and her cheeks flush faintly. She recovered quickly, though, angling her body to face him.

"What, this old thing? It's just something I had lying around," she said teasingly. It was very obviously not a dress that a student was likely to bring with them to school.

A chuckle sort of purred out of his chest. Dori had the somewhat unique appeal of slipping seamlessly along just about every line of conversation Sirius had ever put to her, absent the typical sort of fawning so many girls seemed to believe was somehow engaging. Although he had a hunch she was joking, it was difficult to entirely dismiss the notion- which only had him wondering just what else had happened to have just... lying around.

"Well we'll have to find some kind of excuse for you to wear it again," he decided before finishing off the dark liquid left in his glass. "What're you doing this summer, after bidding your fond farewell to youth and all its innocence?"

He could think of a couple of places where a dress like that would fit in nicely. And a few where it would stand out in a small, scandalous splash. The latter held a bit more appeal.

Dori was desperately, desperately trying to not be one of the giggling, fawning girls that seemed to surround Sirius more often than not, but she was just a girl and, when he chuckled, the sound sent shivers down her spine and threatened to rip something that was decidedly less like an amused chuckle and more like a frantic giggle. She managed to keep a grip on herself, though, but just barely.

"Working on my parents' farm, most likely." She was born and raised on that land and she was about ninety percent certain that she'd end up dying on it too. "What about you? What are you planning on doing?"

Though it seemed completely bizarre that she'd want to go labour away on some muggle farm, such lines of inquiry strayed too close to the potential for serious conversation. In Sirius's experience, when out with a girl, serious conversations never led anywhere remotely entertaining. Besides, no one ever got to know anyone by talking too seriously. So he didn't dwell on it, opting instead to snuff out his cigarette.

"I find that life's a lot more interesting when there's not much of a plan." Well, there were possible plans, but Sirius hadn't quite settled on exactly what he wanted to lock himself into. To choose would exclude options, and that never held much appeal. "I don't know what I'm doing next month, next week- I don't even know what I'm doing tonight." Well, that at least in part was a little dependent on her. His tone went a bit musing as he added, "I don't much fancy the idea of going back to the castle, though."

Since he doubted most, if any, students never spent a night of the school year beyond Hogwarts's walls, he rather hoped the suggestion would court her curiosity.

"You don't, do you?" Dori asked, reaching out to play with her shot glass, casting him sidelong glances. Again with the whole making her heart pound and her head swim. There was something about that intensity that he threw around so casually that was entirely appealing to her. Damn him. Damn him for tossing that out at her and for piquing her curiosity even though she had a fair idea of what was on his mind. "So... what is it you fancy doing then?"

The curl of his lips wasn't what he'd call smug. Sirius didn't often look entirely smug. No, this was just... quietly pleased. Sirius always enjoyed an invitation. And Dori always seemed up for a game- at least, some sort of game. Sirius did so love to play.

"I have yet to fully decide," the tone low with a brush of velvet.

It was something of a lie, but not much. Of course he knew what he wanted to do, but want and expectation were a bit removed. But there she was. In that dress. Merlin, but he loved her in that dress. Settling a bit to turn properly toward her, Sirius devoted the full attention of his curious, turbulent gray eyes upon hers. For a moment his attention snagged, flitting between one eye and the next. There was something that he seemed to be missing, and wasn't that a refreshing, enticing sort of feeling.

"But I like where I'm at right now," he ventured, settling into a comfortable lack of comprehension.

Dori chuckled, pressing herself into the cushioned back of the booth. "This is rather nice, isn't it?" she mused, scooting just a tiny bit closer to him, letting her shoulder touch his. She held his gaze for a few moments before she nudged him gently, her unevenly colored eyes glinting playfully.