Title: Black Lace Mourning Gloves

Pairing: Sirius Black/Jamie Potter

Jamie Potter looked like death warmed over. She covered her mouth with her hand, as if that would be able to stifle her sobs and keep her from throwing up everything that she had eaten in the past year. Her eyes were red and puffy, and the bags under them were almost as black as her hair.

The official notice had been delivered by an owl at 2:17 a.m. Her parents, Lord and Lady Potter, had died of a sudden illness the night before.

The black lace mourning gloves she wore itched her face, but Jamie wouldn't remove them. She couldn't.

"Mum and D-Dad are …"

Jamie bit her lip viciously, but it couldn't change the truth. Her parents were dead. Dead. She was an orphan now.

And with their passing, she was now Lady Potter.

Swallowing back tears and bile, because her headache from weeping and vomiting repeatedly was still pounding behind her eyes, Jamie pinned a black lace veil into her hair. It hung in front of her eyes, level with the bottom of her nose. It did nothing to hide how haunted she was.

The sound of Lily Evans rousing caused Jamie to straighten her back so much that it hurt. She didn't want to see anyone; she didn't want to face reality. She didn't have a choice.

As Heiress Potter, she had been free to do so much that she no longer could. Like run to Sirius Black for solace and comfort. After reading the letter, she had thrust her shaking feet into her slippers, prepared to sneak into the boys' dorm and curl up at his side, safe with him. Heiress Potter could get away with such things … because they were childhood friends and no one would ever suggest anything inappropriate had occurred.

Lady Potter, on the other hand, had to follow a plethora of laws, customs, and traditions that did not apply to a mere Heiress.

At sixteen, she was the Head of an Ancient House. The truth cut her heart to ribbons.

There wouldn't be any more pranks. There wouldn't be any more detentions for back-talking or joking around. Jamie crossed the dorm room and left before Lily could get out of bed and see what had happened. She didn't want to talk about it. "There won't be any more Quidditch," Jamie breathed. She was the last of her bloodline now; she couldn't participate in anything dangerous that might harm her and chance wiping out her family forever.

"No more broom racing. No more Abraxan riding. No more dueling tournaments." With each truth Jamie spoke, she felt the walls close in around her. Until she bonded and bore a child to carry on her bloodline, her life might as well not be her own.

Jamie pressed a shaking hand to her mouth. No more sleeping in Sirius's bed when she had a nightmare. No more safe, warm hugs whenever she wanted one. No more strong arms wrapped around her waist or hands at her back to guide her. No more studying curled up at his side. No more jokes from her mother about Potters being unable to resist Blacks.

The sun was rising. Jamie wished it wouldn't. Why should the world go on, as if hers hadn't just ended?

"Jamie, you're up—"

She dropped her hand to her chest, squeezed it into a fist, and rasped, "Don't call me that."

Sirius's exuberant footsteps halted. The common room was painfully silent. "What's wrong, Jamie? What ha—?"

Jamie wanted to curl in a ball in his lap and cry harder than ever. But she couldn't. She wasn't allowed to do that anymore. She straightened her posture even more, as if she were in the presence of Mother Magic herself, waiting to pass inspection as a worthy pureblood lady. "Please don't refer to me so familiarly."

Sirius made a sound that was a mix of outrage and a puppy's whimper. It tore Jamie's heart even further. Pushing him away … there was nothing in the world that could hurt him more. Jamie didn't have a choice.

"Heiress Potter, I—"

It took everything Jamie had not to flinch away and vomit. Sirius had never called her that in their lives. And the first time he did, it no longer applied. "Wrong again," she whispered. She dropped her hands to her sides, so he could see the mourning gloves.

"No." Sirius took a stumbling step forward. "No. No. No!" He ran across the room to her, grief and disbelief in his voice. He reached for her shoulder.

For the first time in her life, Jamie deliberately moved away from Sirius Black. Her stomach roiled as she turned to face him. Her family honor was the only thing keeping her from throwing herself into his arms—the one place she always yearned to be.

"I name you Gryffindor Quidditch Captain in my place. I apologize for the inconvenience of deserting you mid-season." Jamie hated each word that left her mouth. Too formal. Too distant. Too not her-and-Sirius.

"I don't care about Quidditch!" Sirius snapped. "I care about you!"

"Thank you for your consideration," she stated, words falling from her lips by rote. She didn't want to say that. She wanted to say how much she loved him. Jamie wanted to beg him to hold her. She wanted to find a Time-Turner and change the past.

"Your mum asked me to wait until we graduated," Sirius whispered. He reached for Jamie, but she took another step back. They both flinched. "She'll have to forgive me. I won't leave you alone and untouchable for over a year. I won't. My mother banished me, so I don't need her approval to forsake my birth name. Regulus can rule the cursed family when he's older." Sirius knelt and offered Jamie his wand. "I don't have a home, and the only wealth I have is what Uncle Alphard left me. But I would rather rot in Azkaban for a decade than be unable to hold you in my arms everyday and give you all the love in my soul. Bond with me, Lady Potter. Please," Sirius begged.

Jamie's already cracked façade crumpled. She collapsed in his arms and stabbed a lance of her magic through both their hearts. It was the most exquisite agony she had ever felt. "Bound by Magic, never to part."

"May I ever live in your heart," Sirius finished, completing the vows.

The new Lord and Lady Potter clutched each other desperately, trembling, and huddled on the floor. Their first kiss was wet with tears.

"I thought I lost you, too," Jamie whimpered. "I thought I lost all of you at the same time." She burrowed against him. "I wanted to die."

"Never!" Sirius kissed her fiercely. "You'll never lose me." His eyes were haunted, and his hands still shook against her. "Let's leave Britain. Let's get away from the war and the Dark Lord. Please, Jamie. If anything happened to you … I …" His grip hurt.

Even though the Honorable and Most Ancient House of Potter had been located in England for centuries, Jamie understood her husband's point-of-view all too well. Losing him would destroy her utterly. So she forfeited without a fight. "Whatever you desire, my lord, is yours."