"Semantics. I've only known one original, and that's you," Minerva laughed. "Maybe when I visit next time we can arrange a meeting with this Sirius Black. That's if his brother doesn't turn me to stone in the foyer."
She kissed his temple and then put her arms around Jamie's shoulders, hugging him. "I know you are. Just don't quit fighting, Jamie. You're strong," Minerva whispered.
"But that's easy. You're Jamie, not James or James Sirius and gods that sounds so bloody formal. Tell them that."
Minerva scowled and sighed in exasperation. "Not me, or are you not listening? I'm not in a relationship, Jamie - okay?"
She felt his hands on hers and she met his eyes as he spoke. Minerva frowned.
"So now you're an expert on werewolves?" she said dryly. "Fuck that, I didn't sign on to be responsible for that because Atlas can't fucking control himself," Minerva scathed, then rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well let me tell you it was a ridiculous moment in an otherwise interesting vacation. But, nevermind about that."
Minerva fell back against the sofa, putting her hands to her head. "Fuck, why does this have to be complicated? It's fucking and having fun. And even you are getting all bloody serious about it. You know what, this serves me right for enjoying a good lay for as long as I have. I should have just blown him off from the start."