Chapter 12: Wolves
Grimmauld Place, May 5th 1996
On Sunday night, the Order meeting is nearing its end. There's only ten of us, so the agenda is relatively quickly gone through. Vance's sitting opposite to me, wrapping up her explanation about some proposed legislations regarding the control of Magical Creatures. Apparently, she's running the Wizengamot Administration Services in the DMLE.
As she speaks, my gaze sweeps over her features. She is rather well-preserved for her age; not quite how she looked during our Hogwarts years, but close. Her eyes flicker to mine and there's a small snag in her speech. No one else notices, but I can see her cheeks tinging a bit, while irritation flashes in her eyes. I suppress a smirk. I need this, distraction. Something, anything to take my mind off from him. Potter. His annoying face keeps popping up in my dreams, and even sometimes to my thoughts when I'm awake.
This thing between Vance and I first happened a couple of weeks ago, after I decided that I needed to know if there still is some form of connection. I needed to know if kissing her could feel the same I imagine would feel with him.
It didn't. But I still went to her the next time she came here. She has been clear from the start – that she doesn't want any strings attached, and she doesn't want anyone to know. A deal that is working a bit too well for me, in my opinion.
After Vance is done, the meeting is adjourned and everyone starts gathering their belongings, shuffling towards the fireplace and upstairs to the hall. I clear my throat. "Miss Vance, may I have a word?" I ask politely, a blank look on my face.
She arches a brow at me but nods afterwards. I gesture for her to follow me, and know fully well that my brother's eyes follow us, evidently filled with mischievous glee.
The moment we enter the library she jumps on me. I let out a muffled gasp against her lips and manage to kick the door shut. Fuck, she's nothing but excitement.
"Eager much?" I drawl as I break out from our kiss, a teasing smirk on my lips.
She arches a brow at me and presses a hand between my legs, squeezing my hardening cock, undoubtedly making a point. "You wanted to talk about something?" She says sweetly, her lips hovering against mine.
Well, fuck. Talking about distraction. "N-Not really." I breathe and pull her into a heated kiss.
Soon the vast room is filled with sounds of sighing and moaning as our mouths are crashing against each other, sucking, biting, licking. It is easy to let go and give into it, to forget everything else. And it is just what I need. Vance lets out a soft moan when my lips find her neck and my fingers the buttons of her trousers.
She grips my jaw and pulls me back to meet her lips, pushing me slowly towards the couch in the seating area, while I work on her trousers. She slaps my fingers away right when the backs of my feet finally make contact on the couch. I drop to sit down on the couch, panting slightly as I watch her shimmy out from her clothing.
"Circe…" I murmur, eyeing her half-naked body. She chuckles and throws a couple of privacy spells on the door. My dick is aching in my slacks, and I know I'm probably going to come undone embarrassingly fast. Her fingers find the buckle of my trousers, and a moment later my slacks and my briefs are drawn down to my ankles.
"Shit…You sure this is a good idea?" I ask when a flicker of doubt crosses my mind, even though my fingers flex against her hips as she settles on my lap.
"You're not?" She asks coyly, and then my cock is tightly between her fingers.
I let out a groan. "Definitely not."
Grimmauld Place, May 6th 1996
It's early, and I slip into the kitchen after another restless night. My heart is still thrumming in my ribcage after an uncanny dream I had last night.
"Well hello there, cousin," Nymphadora drawls behind her teacup, with a voice no Hufflepuff should be able to accomplish.
I refrain from rolling my eyes and sit down opposite to her. "Good morning, Nymphadora," I say with a satisfied grin. She makes a face at her name but still, a sly smirk takes over her features.
"Had a nice night?" She asks innocently, a knowing look in her eyes.
I groan inwardly and roll my eyes at her. I snatch the morning Prophet from her and view over the first pages while I feel my cousin's narrowed eyes fixated on me. There's nothing interesting in the paper, so I toss it away and tuck into my breakfast Kreacher has kindly provided for us.
"Sooo…reminiscing an old fling, huh?" Dora asks, a wry glint in her eyes.
I scoff. "Hardly."
Nymphadora smirks. "Not what I heard." She says gleefully.
I suppress a scowl and take a sip of my tea. "What did she say?" I ask plainly.
My cousin eyes me with a scrutinising look. "She said…that you are hung up on someone else."
My stomach jolts unpleasantly. "She…What?" I say mutedly, frowning at her. Vance and I haven't really discussed about our lives, on that level at least. And the interesting part is, that she doesn't have it wrong, however hard I try to ignore it.
Nymphadora shrugs. "That's what she said."
I scoff, a frown between my brows. "I haven't said anything of the sort to her."
She gives me a pointed look. "You didn't need to. So…Who's the lucky girl?" She asks and winks. I can feel my eyebrows twitch even though I otherwise manage to keep a straight face. "Oh…Or boy, perhaps?" She continues, watching me closely, a hint of confusion in her eyes.
Cursing inwardly, I clear my throat and place a disinterested expression on my face. "I have no interest in continuing this discussion, cousin," I say simply.
Nymphadora arches a brow at me. "Suit yourself." She says with an amused look, just as my brother and Lupin enter the kitchen.
I'm actually pleased to see them, that is, at least before I see them exchange a sly look after seeing me.
"Fun night?" Sirius asks with a wide grin as he sits down next to me. Lupin sits next to my cousin and they glance at each other, something secretive in their eyes. Is something actually going on between them? If so, is my cousin not bothered that the man is over ten years older than her age?
Yes, I realise Vance is nearly the same age as Lupin, and the age difference between us is even more dire than with Lupin and Dora.
My brother nudges me, eyeing me expectantly when I turn to give him a bored look.
"How was it?" He asks quietly, waggling his brows. Merlin he's distasteful. And apparently not at all bothered by the fact that his little brother has been messing around with a thirty-something woman. "Come on, Reggie…Loosen up a bit," He says with ease and winks at me, snatching a strip of bacon from my place.
Nymphadora and Lupin watch our conversation, looking mildly entertained. I let out a weary sigh. "If you must know, my evening was sufficiently…pleasant," I say plainly, not giving anything away.
Sirius barks a laugh. "I'm sure it was…" he says turns to load his plate from the wide selection of breakfast assortments on the table.
"Well?" Nymphadora asks with a small grin. "Is she still here? You gonna bring her breakfast to bed? Make her an honest woman?" She asks, teasing me, clearly knowing that I'd do no such thing, and obviously knowing that Vance left last night, supposedly after their little conversation about me.
I huff at my cousin, her earlier comment still disturbing me. "What are you even doing in here?" I ask from her with a mild irritation. "Don't you have a home? A job? Anything?"
Nymphadora shrugs indifferently. "Couldn't be without my little pet here," She says with a mischievous smile, glancing affectionately at Lupin, whose cheeks redden instantly.
My brows arch with interest as I lift my cup of tea to have a drink. "Your what?" I ask, feeling bewildered.
Sirius chuckles next to me. "Not that perceptive, are you Reggie?" He asks, stuffing eggs and beans into his mouth. I give a mildly disdainful look at my brother, who has apparently become even more of a slob than he was in his teenage years. I then turn to assess Lupin and my cousin.
"You're couple, then?" I ask blankly. Inwardly, I smirk as I think how my parents, my aunt and my uncle would've reacted if they knew she was associating with a werewolf.
"Yeah, something like that," Nymphadora says easily, while Lupin seems a bit hesitant, shifting on his seat uncomfortably.
I choose not to say anything, but I can't ignore a small surge of discomfort inside me. What is it? Worry? Am I caring for my cousin's wellbeing? …What is happening to me?
Grimmauld Place, June 7th 1996
"I'm telling you, the Ministry has turned the school into a spectacle!" Moody shouts with a mix of anger and amusement in his voice.
The past month has gone quickly, and even though Potter has made a permanent appearance in my dreams, I decided to put an end to the additional encounters with Vance. It just didn't…feel right, I suppose. She said she doesn't mind, and actually seemed a bit pleased by the decision. We both knew it was going to end probably sooner than later, so there was no need for dragging it out. The last time I saw her, she told me to make up my mind and find my happiness. Whatever the hell that meant.
Most of the Order has gathered again in the kitchen on this late Friday night. Even both McGonagall and Severus are attending. They have recounted the happenings at the school from the past month, and it is causing a lot of discussion, both frustrated and gleeful. Apparently, after Molly Weasley's twin sons left the school in late April, the remaining students started to fight against their new Headmistress, Dolores Umbridge. The Ministry Hag.
The previous Headmaster, Dumbledore, is attending the meeting as well, listening the discussion with a troubled look behind his half-moon spectacles. I can only assume he is worried for his students' safety.
"Severus?" Dumbledore asks as the subject of Hogwarts's current state has been gone over.
Severus turns to look at the old man with an unreadable expression. A few members still continue their discussion with hushed tones.
"How are your private lessons with Harry?" Dumbledore asks and eyes Severus closely.
Severus doesn't falter, doesn't even blink when he drawls. "They're as dull as ever."
Dumbledore gives him a scrutinising look before the next subject is taken into consideration. The Prophecy. Before I tune in to the latest reports of various guard shifts, I inspect Severus's features. I know the man is lying. Because I know him. His eyes flicker to mine, and I can see a hint of warning in them.
He wants me to keep my mouth shut, to keep my thoughts to myself, and he will do the same. Wanker.
I wonder what has happened? Has he seen something intriguing in Potter's mind? I assume he would have said something if he had.
As the conversation moves on, I learn that the Dark Lord hasn't made any advances towards the Prophecy after the incident with an Unspeakable, Broderick Bode. Of course, it isn't public knowledge, but the Order suspects that Malfoy put Bode under the Imperius curse and forced him to try to collect the Prophecy. After Bode's failure, the man was murdered in St Mungo's during Christmas holidays, supposedly on the Dark Lord's command.
The reason for the Dark Lord's hesitance became clear before Easter, when Severus informed the Order that Rookwood, a former Unspeakable, now a prison escapee, had given the Dark Lord a rather important bit of information. The Dark Lord learned that only the people whom the prophecies refer, can acquire them from the Department of Secrets. The Order of course has known this part, and it has been a slight advantage to us. Unfortunately, the Dark Lord now knows only he or Potter is able to collect the Prophecy.
Severus announces that the Dark Lord is confident on his success of obtaining the Prophecy. He hasn't been trusted with the details, but it is clear the Dark Lord is planning something. We speculate Severus's news a bit, and it seems that either the Dark Lord is planning an attack to the Ministry, revealing himself at last, or he's planning on using Potter to collect the prophecy for him.
It is past midnight, when I make my way back to my room from the kitchen where I have enjoyed a late-night cup of tea to help me sleep. I stop in midstride, as I hear incoherent noises in the hallway. My brother must be sulking in father's study again. I contemplate for a moment, if I should go to him, or continue upstairs.
I make up my mind and walk towards father's study, towards my brother. I slip into the room and glance around me; a faint strip of moonlight lies across the floor, leaving everything else into darkness. It is not the first time I've found him here, in a mix of a mood swing and self-indulgence.
"Hello, brother." Sirius grunts from behind father's desk.
I take a couple of steps closer, rounding the table, and find him sitting on the floor, a Firewhiskey bottle between his hands.
"Amusing yourself again?" I ask wryly and walk up to him, before sliding down on the floor next to him.
He passes the bottle to me, and I take a hefty swig, coughing slightly as the liquor burns in my throat.
Sirius merely hums and gazes pensively out from the window. I study his features, wondering where his thoughts are.
"So…what are you moping about in here?" I ask quietly after a short silence.
He shrugs and takes the bottle back, still looking away from me.
"Okay then," I say with a small sigh and stare at him as he takes a swig from the half empty bottle.
I know how this goes, even though it usually makes me feel somewhat irritated. It might take some time until he opens up and tells me what is bothering him, and then sometimes, it doesn't. I've learned that waiting silently usually does it.
We haven't really been good at it, sharing things. Talking about our feelings. Perhaps we were in our childhood, but not anymore. Everything is more complicated now. We both keep many things to ourselves, because in the end, there are only so many one can truly trust.
He clears his throat. "Just…had a difference of opinion with Dumbledore…"
I watch his features carefully. "About?"
"Harry," Sirius grunts, his eyes flickering to mine for a second.
I nod slowly. "Again?" I ask, because this isn't the first time my brother has argued with Dumbledore about Potter.
Sirius sighs. "I want Harry to live with me, like he should." He says, his voice oddly sober and determined, even though he should be thoroughly pissed after all the alcohol he must've taken. "Lily and James made me Harry's godfather and his guardian in case something happened to them." He continues with a stricken look. "I have money now. I have a place, a very secure place, where he has more than enough space," He says wearily, gazing forward with a mix of deep worry and attachment.
"But? Why wouldn't he live here then?" I ask, not because I necessarily want Potter to be here, but because I know it is something my brother wants. What he needs. Even though I suspect he's probably not in any shape to take care of anyone but himself, I understand what it means to him. What Potter means to him.
Sirius lets out a frustrated growl and takes another gulp from the bottle. "Lily's blood…her relatives. There's some enchantment there, protecting him. As long as he's with Lily's blood, Voldemort cannot hurt him…" He says bitterly, chewing the inside of his cheek in thought.
There is a short silence before I speak, more to myself than him. "So it all comes down to blood," I mutter.
"Apparently."
Another silence.
Sirius clears his throat. "So, Emmie, huh?" he asks with a hint of slyness in his eyes as he glances at me.
I roll my eyes and snatch the bottle from him.
"You know, you should invite her to dinner, get her to know your family and Head of House properly," he says with a grin, looking proud as he straightens himself up and smooths down his clothes.
I shake my head slightly and give him an incredulous look. "Don't bother. We're not a thing." From the arched brow my brother gives me, I continue. "There's nothing between us anymore." I say and take gulp of Firewhiskey.
Sirius's expression shifts to a sincerer one. "Oh. What happened?" He asks with a slight frown between his brows.
I shrug. "It was never going anywhere. It's different now. We're different now," I say blankly and stare at Firewhiskey bottle on my lap. It's a lie and at the same time, it is not. I'm the one who is different now.
"How so?" Sirius asks quietly. "Is it the age difference? I mean, I have to say, it threw me off a bit in the beginning, but once I'd get past that, I – "
"It's not that," I interrupt him quickly, not really understanding why I'm talking about this with him. But when I think about it, I know the reason. There's something in my brother's presence that makes me at ease. He can be a frustrating prick when he wants to – and most of the time he is – but deep inside, I know I've missed talking to him. And I've missed him.
Sirius stays silent and waits for me to continue.
I let out a sigh and hand him the bottle back before threading a hand through my hair. "I only started it because…because I was trying to forget someone. Someone else," I say and swallow hard, not able to summon enough willpower to continue or to look at him.
Sirius lets out a small chuckle. "What you just said…was the height of idiocy. Why'd you think it would've helped?" He says cautiously, his voice almost soft.
"I don't know," I say and shake my head slowly, realising how foolish I have been and how lucky I have been for not hurting anyone in the process.
"So…what now?" My brother asks as he inspects me carefully, a hint of worry in his grey eyes.
I look at him hesitantly, inwardly hoping he will not kill me once he finds out. "Maybe I'll do something about it."