Who: Aurora Sinistra and Sirius Black What: Snarking, snogging, the things they do best? When: The Christmas Party Where: I just SAID the Christmas Party! Rating: PG-13 for sexual innuendo, language, and driving each other to massive headaches
The kids were having a brilliant time, but Sirius wasn't used to having so many little ones at once. It had taken him long enough to get used to Harry when he was born, and the girls after him. Add in Draco, and he really was pretty maxed out. But having the four of them, plus the Weasley children, Frank and Alice's little boy, the Macmillans, and several more that he'd lost track of all in one area was more than a little overwhelming. He found himself keeping to the edges of the party, allowing the more comfortable adults (namely Lily, Molly, and Alice) lead the party games. The kids were having fun, that was all that mattered to him.
He was leaning against a railing, watching Draco giggle over something one of the other boys had just said, when he heard a noise upstairs. Either Kreacher was going mad (again) or one of the children had become a little escapee. A quick headcount led Sirius to believe that all the children were still in the parlour, but that didn't ease his worry. He didn't need Kreacher getting out of hand, either.
Ducking away, he slipped into the hallway, ready to take the first set of stairs to the second floor, when he turned the corner and nearly ran into someone. And when he saw who it was, he glared. Snivellus had nerve indeed allowing this woman into his home. Anyone who'd known them at Hogwarts knew the pair didn't get along, but most didn't know just how deep their...hatred actually ran. "Sinistra," he said coldly, moving to get by. It was the best greeting he could offer under the circumstances.
Aurora was not much of one for parties. She had come because Severus had asked, and Severus never asked anything of her. Well, there had been the message for Evan, but besides that, Severus had never required her aid. It was one of the reasons they got on so well, a partnership which demanded absolutely nothing of either party, except the occasional conversation over a brandy or a shared laugh over a student's mishap.
The holidays, however, meant party invitations, and this one was one she chose not to ignore. Partially because Severus had asked, and partially because of her family. And then there was this third, niggling little reason, standing there and staring down at her. The same imperious expression, on the same face that Regulus had made so much more kind, if paler. She'd favoured her younger housemate, and not in the way Narcissa had. Not as a pet, but as a true friend, and seeing Sirius here, when Regulus wasn't...well. That rankled the old wounds, older than the ones that Sirius himself had caused. She stiffened in return. "Black," Aurora stated, looking as indifferent as she could.
Sirius gritted his jaw. Why? Why did she still get under his skin that way? Wasn't he completely in the right to ask her to leave? It was his home, after all, and it felt like she was invading. All he wanted was a peaceful Christmas with his new family. And this? Wasn't it. "I know there must be a reason you're here," he began, less than polite but keeping his tone even. "But for the life of me, I can't figure out what."
Aurora lifted a brow, studying Sirius' face, ignoring - or trying to - the resemblances with Regulus. The man looked positively irritated, which amused her intensely. "I was invited as Severus' partner for the evening," she returned, blasé as ever. "I'm assuming you know what a date is, Black."
Low. Too low, considering he hadn't been out for an evening out in...well, it had been several months. Draco had become his biggest priority and he'd put the dating aspect far behind him. "A date, certainly," he replied non-chalantly. "But it typically involves something a bit more cheerful than the two of you."
"I can assure you that despite your somewhat skewed perspective, we are having a wonderful time," Aurora assured him, and smiled, thinking rather of how utterly baffled Severus looked in the middle of a gaggle of children. "I'm sure Remus, at least, can appreciate that, as one of the hosts. Unlike you, he has proper manners. The kind which are gratified that the guests are having fun, and not just standing there glaring at them as if they shouldn't exist at all."
"Perhaps because he doesn't know his guests quite like I do," Sirius shot back bitterly. The gall of her, to stand there and smile. To smile as if she were welcome there. Which she wasn't, surely she had to know? It was almost as bad as having a Lestrange in his house. Hell, for all he knew she'd try to tuck Draco under her arm and slip out before the evening ended. "Besides, don't you and Snivellus and your gang of merry darkness sit around and read despressing suicidal poetry for fun? Or play murderer?"
The smile on her face faded, quite a bit. Of course Sirius would bring this back to reality, away from the soft float of people and the shrill laughter of children. She could have liked it, had she tried harder, and for Severus, she was trying quite hard. But Sirius would undo all those efforts. "I have never been a murderer, and I don't intend to start now," she said coldly. "A pity, as quite frankly you need someone to throttle you, Sirius Black."
A hint of a smile crossed his own face as hers faded. He'd been told he needed to be throttled since he was a small child. Sometimes he even had been. Nothing she'd say was going to change that now. "I didn't say you were one," he clarified. "I said you'd go play one. There's a difference, see." Getting under her skin was a nice change for once. "Why are you here, Aurora? Really?"
"Does it bother you that I'm here?" she shot back. "Ruffle some feathers?"
"Clearly," Sirius replied, a hint of anger creeping into his tone. "I thought that'd be a bit obvious."
Aurora looked back at him. "Oh for Salazar's sake, Black, still holding on to school-age grudges?" she snapped. "Or are you afraid I'm going to do some mischief to your son?" The idea made her bristle, rage filling her eyes. "He's a child, and whether or not you believe me, I would not ever harm a child."
"Oh of course not," he snapped back, surprised with even himself. Though he had briefly let it cross his mind, that wasn't the reason he was fighting her being there with everything in him. "You damn well knew you wouldn't be welcome here. Call it a school-age grudge if you will, but it goes that far back and doesn't go away."
"I did, but considering that circumstances have changed I thought you might have matured," she answered angrily. "Severus bent over backwards to find Draco and you treat him worse than shit. Just like you always have. Let's not even start on me. Being welcome? What a joke. The only one in your family who ever welcomed me was Reg. You remember him, right? The younger brother you belittled and ignored?"
"Beli...and...I...what?" Sirius all but shouted, only checking his tone when he heard a brief pause in the party activities. "Please! As if anyone in my family ever welcomed me. Regulus was no damn different from the rest of them, only going along with mummy and daddy's precious words and mocking me where anyone could see! Don't you dare defend his actions to me, Sinistra, because no one knew his wrath like I did. He may have been younger, but he was no damn better."
"Don't you dare talk about him like that!" she cried out, and then paused, modulating her tone to low and angry. "He was better than the rest of you combined, and even your parents knew it. Everyone knew it, everyone except you. He wanted to be just like you. Salazar only knows why, but he did." Her mouth twisted with bitterness. "You have no idea what he went through, and you just dismissed him like you dismissed Severus. Never mind that Severus, once again, saved your son's life. Not because of you, I'm sure, but he did. He begged me to get Evan to help. He never begs. And all I could think about was Regulus." She reached out, jabbing him in the chest. "Regulus would have done the same thing, except he would have done it for you. Not for Draco, not for Remus, for you. And what for? You don't deserve to have him back. You don't deserve that kind of love in your life. You wouldn't know love if it bit you."
"Like hell," Sirius spat back. He pulled back from her jabbing finger angrily, aching to push her physically away but still not being a big enough arse to actually harm a woman. "I thanked Severus, you can kindly note. I know what he went through to get Draco, and I do appreciate that. But as my dear little brother never once bothered to stand up to the two people who hated me most in this world, I think I do get a say in the fact that he didn't give a damn about me. Never did." It was wrong, but her words had actually hit him. There were few days of his life that he actually didn't think about Regulus, and what losing him had cost. Regulus passing before Sirius could confront him on it all had taken its toll. "And don't you dare tell me I don't know love, because I look at that little boy in there and I see it every single day. But you're too damn cold to notice that, aren't you?"
“How wonderful, you can notice a helpless orphan and love him. That’s not hard, Black. Nor does it take a genius,” she sneered. “What would have been hard is actually loving your own flesh and blood despite his weaknesses. Despite his flaws. Just like Regulus did. You know the only reason he never said it to you? It’s because he knew you’d behave exactly like you are now, a spoiled little brat who, despite supposedly losing everything managed to do pretty damn well for himself. Hell, didn’t take you long to move back into this apparently evil and torturous place when you needed it, did you? Despite all those horrid memories that you undoubtedly use to justify every second of your existence. And let’s not forget how you turned around and did the exact same thing your parents did, shall we? Siccing a werewolf on an innocent child, for example.” Yes, Severus had told her that. She had forced it out of him years ago, and the fact that she was using it against Sirius now only betrayed her agitation. Aurora had forgotten how livid Sirius could make her.
Sirius' eyes flashed angrily, every nerve in him twitching. It was only because he had his hands clenched behind his back that he wasn't reaching out and slapping her. How dare she. How dare she presume to know anything about his life? A childish prank couldn't compete with disowning your own child. Yes, he knew what he'd done was wrong, he wasn't bloody well stupid. But to compare that to disowning your own son for befriending that werewolf? And the muggleborn girl his best friend had fallen in love with? What kind of family did that? "I'd watch my mouth if I were you," he hissed, his tone low. "Draco's my flesh and blood as well, but he needs me. I don't doubt for a moment that even at his age, he'd stand up for me where it matters. You want to talk to me about this house? For Godric's sake, it's the least I should get from my farce of a family."
He was wrong and yet he was right, at the same time. Aurora had never personally agreed with what the Blacks had done to Sirius, even if she’d not known him, because she’d known what it had done to Regulus. If his brother had suffered even a quarter of what Regulus had, she might have been willing to forgive Sirius that. But she would never tell him. Not now, especially not now. Not after they had done to one another. The hatred Sirius inspired in her had precious little to do with Regulus, at times, and yet mostly she had convinced herself it was the exact reason to avoid Sirius at all costs. Except when this opportunity had proven a golden one to get under his skin, provoke him in a place where he could say and do exactly nothing.
And now that she had provoked him, the memories of their past came rushing back, too. She knew what it was like having Sirius in her face, yelling his head off about something. She knew what it was to throw words like daggers designed only to tear both of them down, because it was what they had always done.
Regulus had asked her once if she could have ever found it possible to like Sirius. At the time, she had said no, but it was a lie. His loyalty to what remained of his family, and the way he’d befriended that werewolf despite the odds, had taught her lessons about the kind of man Sirius was, long before they’d become enemies. Long before she’d known him as he was now.
And it was because of that memory that she did the unthinkable, leaning forward and kissing him. It was a mistake, she knew that, but nonetheless, it happened.
Sirius was ready to fire back responses that he couldn't take back. He was ready to finally pull out the big guns and push her away physically. He was ready to spin on his heel and march off. But he wasn't prepared for that. As his hands were still clenched desperately behind his back, he couldn't even do anything to stop her from coming closer. She'd reached him long before he was ready to stop her.
She felt different than she used to. A part of him wanted to revel in this. It had been a long time since he'd been that close to a woman. As his hands came around to push her away, they rested on her upper arms. It was a position ready to either push or sink into the kiss. This was ridiculous. He was snogging Aurora Sinistra in the middle of his front hall during his Christmas party where anyone could walk in.
It was that thought that caused him to panic a bit and finally grip her arms and step back. "What the hell was that?" he hissed, glancing from side to side to make sure no one had witnessed the freak show that had just happened.
She shook her head. Nothing had just happened. Aurora hadn’t just gone insane and snogged Sirius Black of all bloody people. For once, she was left verbally defenseless, wrenching herself free of his grip because if she didn’t she wouldn’t regain sense at all. “I – nothing. It was nothing.”
"Nothing. Right," he scoffed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms defensively in front of himself. "That was..." An incredible snog. But not the words he was looking for. "That shouldn't have happened. And I trust it won't again." Though he wasn't sure he'd mind, really. Wait, yes, he would. Of course he would, who was he kidding.
She stiffened, rubbing her arms. “It won’t,” Aurora snapped. “Believe me, it was a temporary loss of sanity.” As usually happened around Sirius. Damn him.
"Yes. Well. Right, then." What the hell had just come over her? Over them both, really, as he hadn't exactly walked away. Still hadn't. "We'll...mistletoe. We'll blame that." Quickly, he reached for his wand, conjuring the small green and white plant over their heads. "Better."
Fabulous. Awkward. They’d degenerated from arguing to this; it was her fault, to make matters worse. “Except the fact that this is a terrible place for mistletoe,” Aurora pointed out. “Out of the way, and also…” She hesitated, uncharacteristically looking vulnerable for half a second. “No, never mind.”
"Out of the way makes the most sense," Sirius reasoned. "Sneaking off to do...things. Right. And also what?" He might have been nearly as stupid as she accused him of being but he wasn't completely clueless.
“Nothing,” Aurora insisted, offering him a glare. “I made a mistake, that’s all.”
Except he knew better. "Well, clearly, but that's not what you were about to say."
"Does it matter?" she challenged. "I thought you weren't interested in anything I had to say."
Tossing his dark hair back over his shoulder, Sirius sighed. His natural curiousity, or nosiness if one preferred, made him want to carry on the conversation. His dislike for her, however, did not. But she had just snogged him. So confused. "I'm not," he said simply. "I should get back to the party. Draco gets anxious if I'm away too long." Which was more than she needed to know and revealing it was bordering on stupid.
Rubbing her arms once more, Aurora shrugged. "Fine. It doesn't bother me." Except it did, she didn't want him to go like this, without them having an actual conversation about what they'd done. Or, at least, another snog. This one fully initiated by him, for starters. "Black."
Sirius paused, hesitating. He ought to just walk away, really. "What?" he asked, turning to face her again, that damned curiousity at its peak.
She smiled then, the same smile she'd had at seventeen: wicked, slightly condescending. The same smile she'd given him before every single liaison they'd never meant to have. "At least you can still kiss," Aurora told him, before choosing to walk back down the hallway, ignoring their proximity completely.
At that, his eyebrows lifted, and a slight smirk crossed his face. Well, if he had to put up with her around the place, at least she'd made it interesting. "And you can still move your hips just so when you walk," Sirius taunted, watching her walk away. "Good to know we all still have our strong points."
Aurora rolled her eyes. “You still have such a way with words, Black. Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me my arse makes you hard. Oh, wait. You did that when we were seventeen.”
Sirius again glanced around, this time to make damn sure no little ears overheard her. Or Kreacher, that bastard could repeat anything to anyone. "I was young and inexperienced," he defended himself. "You've got higher standards to live up to these days. Besides, no seventeen year-old wouldn't be when a girl's arse is all but in his hands." Literally. Oi, now was not the time for this.
"We're not going down this path again," she said firmly, reminding herself just as much as reminding him. "You ... are not going to think about putting your hands on my arse, and I'm not going to want them there. I am mature, I have self-control. And you are just as much of a self-absorbed, arrogant pig as you ever were." And she wasn't attracted to him. Nope.
"That I am," Sirius agreed, almost smug in his reply. "And you're every bit as frigid and cold." Except when he had her--no, that image needed to leave right away. Then would be good. "So we keep our hands, feet, and other objects to ourselves like good little boys and girls and no one gets hurt. Or...as you so gently put it...hard."
"Unless I stab you first," she said sweetly. "I'm not planning on letting anything get hard, and I can still hex you at five paces running."
"Remind me again how you get a man? Is it the sweet talk? Because really, it's doing nothing for me right now." Not entirely true, but close enough. "Most blokes don't get turned on by threats of hexing." Whipping and spanking he'd heard of, but this was new.
“You’d have to be a man for me to do that, remember?” Aurora replied, folding her arms over her chest. “Sweet talk is saved for people who actually matter, and not people who decided when I was sixteen to molest me in a hallway and call it ‘snogging.’ Which, by the way, it wasn’t.”
Sirius rolled his eyes, torn somewhere between aroused and irritated. And, as it was Aurora Sinistra, he was leaning mostly towards irritated. "Oh, get over yourself," he scoffed. "It's only molestation if you didn't practically ask me to do it. You could've walked away at any time, Sin." The nickname was out of his mouth before he could stop it, and he looked alarmed for the briefest of moments.
She froze, the nickname catching her off-guard. She’d forgotten what it sounded like, coming from his mouth. Thank Salazar he hadn’t said it the way he could have, breathed soft and low against her neck – and it was that thought which stopped her even colder in her tracks. “Really? I could have stopped you from forcing your tongue down my throat? I didn’t want you then and I don’t want you now.” The words belied her, though, coming out much smaller than she’d intended.
Again, Sirius scoffed, the sound much softer this time. For her to portray him as some sort of attacker was by far the worst insult she'd thrown out yet, but there hadn't been venom in her tone, as there had been when she'd accused him of being a horrible human to his brother or called him out for attacking Severus. "Then go," he said easily. "You never once told me to stop, I'll remind you. You weren't savagely attacked, so quit playing the victim. But if you're so adamant that that's how it was, feel free to leave. I wouldn't want you here then, anyway."
She tilted her head, sensing a small but important victory. “But you want me here. Warm and willing as always?” There was self-deprecation in her tone when she said it; she’d known how weak she was in giving in despite the fact that she’d known better. But it was Sirius, and despite herself – or maybe because of it – she’d become obsessed.
Yet that was when she was seventeen. It had been too bloody long for this to happen. Not now.
"Actually?" Sirius challenged with a lift of his eyebrow, "I don't. Not really. Not now. You're not on my agenda today. Maybe not ever. Right now, I'm looking forward to spending Christmas with my little boy. I'm looking forward to giving Remus more gifts than he typically gets this time of year. I plan to spoil my godson completely rotten and I play to grit my teeth, put on a happy face, and play nice with Severus Snape. You? Are either a bonus or a pain. I haven't decided which."
"Maybe a little of both," she said dryly, hiding how she felt behind the words. It was easier that way, easier to know that they'd always come back to this in the end, and that perhaps it was safer, too. No attachment, no commitment, no kindness. No change. Just distance, distance and a fiery sexual attraction that she'd have to stave off from now on. "Don't worry. I'll stay out of your way if you do me the same courtesy."
"I'd planned on it," he replied easily. Aurora Sinistra wouldn't get the best of him. Not anymore. He had a family to raise now. He wasn't seventeen with the world at this feet. He'd seen loss and betrayal and fear and hope. This wasn't the same man who'd once, as she put it, mauled her in the halls of Hogwarts. He'd grown up and so had she. "It's been lovely chatting with you," he lied, "but I think they're about to light the tree, and I'd like to be there when my son sees it." He let the word 'son' linger between them, a simple reminder of how far they'd come since school.
Her eyes flared, perhaps not with the lack of emotion she intended - Étain was better at that than she was - and the blue bled dark for just one instant before she turned away, knowing that she'd betray herself if she remained facing him. His son. Not the fruit of his loins, no, but Draco Malfoy was the next best thing to that, and as a child, he deserved having a decently stable home, which gave her all the more reason to not pursue this. And yet she did not move. "Just once," she said, finding her voice had softened, smoothly vulnerable like the whisper of water against her skin. "That is all I ask, and then this will be over for the last time."
Oh, Godric, why did she have to go there? Did she have any idea what that did to him? When she used that tone-not the tone so famous for tearing him a new arsehole, but the one that sat in his ears for hours after she'd spoken? He was likely to be found in a puddle of mush if she continued speaking that way. And to request what she had?
It took every ounce of willpower for Sirius to straighten his shoulders and look her in the eye. "It should've been over long before now," he chided. "And it is, Aurora. It is over. We need to let this go. Not later, now."
It didn’t make her angry, like she’d expected it to. Instead, it filled her with sadness, a confusion that she hadn’t intended to feel, and she reacted only to that surprise, backing up blindly away from him. Her cheeks were hot and she stumbled – she, of all people. Aurora Sinistra had never stumbled in her life, never contradicted herself more – except for when she was in front of this man. “I agree,” she managed, her voice surprisingly steady. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to find Severus.”
Sirius nodded slowly, slightly surprised by her reaction. What was it about her that he refused to let go of? But he'd made the right decision. Of course he had. Draco was his life now, and they were just getting settled. If he found out Sirius' attention might be anywhere else...
"Happy Christmas, Aurora," he said quietly, more to the floor in front of her than anything else. Looking into those eyes for too long might make him change his mind
It was not the first time she’d wished Regulus there; but it was the first time she’d selfishly wanted him as a distraction, to cause an argument with Sirius that would take the attention away from this. So that she could forget that immense pressure filling her chest which had no definable name.
“Happy Christmas, Sirius,” she returned, and walked away.