BELONGED TO

It was a chilly night. The rain was falling down to the glass roof of the Astronomy Tower: tap-tap-tap in an endless loop.

She was there, waiting for him. Her face turned to the clear windows that opened to the balcony where students did their star gazing looking at the night sky. There were no students but them now, though. Mondays meant there was no one here. Mondays were their day.

He was a sap. It was official. He didn't care. He was Sirius Black, after all, and if he was a sap then being sap was the thing to be. Besides, why should he pretend like beauty doesn't exist?

His friends didn't know he was here, of course. They didn't know about her either, for the obvious reasons. It wasn't that he didn't trust them. He did; it's just... He had promised to her, and they wouldn't understand anyway. None of them got betrothed before they could talk in full sentences. They didn't know the responsibility that came with it. They always thought he was sneaking out to meet with random girls. Sirius didn't deny it either; he was meeting with a bird, after all. He just shrugged, grinned and kept silent. The gossip didn't stop of course; somehow girls were even more interested in him. They seemed to think he was chivalrous; some kind of romantic notion about him never tainting the reputation of a young maiden... It was terribly archaic, but somehow for some unfathomable reason, people liked that crap.

Not his girl, though: she wouldn't buy it. She was, of course, perfect in every way. She would sit perfectly, eat perfectly and never spoke out of turn in public -all people ever saw in her was that she was the pureblood princess of the generation, the jewel of the high society. She was the complete opposite of Sirius. But that didn't matter to them. What people often forget was that she was much more than that. She was fierce in her bravery when it came to defending those who she cared about; though she did not particularly care about many people. She was calculated and cold on the surface. She was a master of keeping people out of her business, too. She somehow walked from dungeons to the Astronomy Tower every Monday without getting a detention even once. No one ever stopped her; no one ever questioned where she was going. She was Narcissa Black, and she was the Queen of Hogwarts.

Sirius half cringed and half grinned when he saw the said queen supporting a rather interesting hair colour. It was probably one of his mates doing. He gingerly cleared his throat.

"It suits you," he said. She turned and looked at him, undoubtedly imagining thousand of needles piercing Sirius' skin. Sirius couldn't help but smile. She looked like an angry siren.

"It's fuchsia," she said. Her tone matter-of-fact, devoid of any emotion that could indicate she was bothered by the state of her hair. Not an ounce of anger was shown; only the fire in her eyes, that particular shine in them, the intensity of their focus, how they were fixed on a singular point, the things only Sirius knew showed him how angry she was. Small things, things that could easily remain unnoticed...

He reached to her, his hand snaking under her cloak and around her slim waist, pulling her towards him.

"It suits you," he said again. "Admittedly, it could only suit you; it is a rather unfortunate colour. But it does. And you look beautiful."

He kissed her full lips, never invading inside of her mouth. He nibbled, licked and sucked on her lips, with a slow rhythm that imitated lazy sea waves. She responded, holding his arms, pressing her body against him, arching towards him.

She moaned.

Gods, she moaned.

Sirius pulled back, stopping his kisses with small pecks on her lips, nose and cheek.

"Saying it is unfortunate is an understatement," Narcissa said with a pout that was hardly visible. The cheeky wench was flirting with him. He pulled one fuchsia coloured tendril near her cheeks and played with it between his fingers.

"We both know that tomorrow you could go to the Dining Hall, your hair made in a perfect fuchsia bun, head held high, nose up in the air," he flicked her nose gently and she glared; "and people would still admire you."

"Just because I know how to carry myself, doesn't mean I like it," Narcissa said and added: "And it's bad form that my fiancé's best friend attacks me like this."

"So it was James, then?" Sirius asked with a resigned sigh.

Narcissa nodded. "Do something about it," she demanded.

"Your happiness is my duty," Sirius said with a grin quickly turning into a mockery of a sincere gentleman. "You shall be avenged, my dove."

She laughed a little and smiled at him. Neither a victorious smile nor one of her innocent-on-the-surface smiles either. Her real smile... The smile of a lover, which belonged to Sirius... Her eyelashes created shadows over her pale blue eyes, and she looked up to him, almost like a gift being presented. Her lips close to his.

He did what everyone would do if a girl looked at them like this: he kissed her.

They made love that night. It was Monday after all, and Mondays meant Narcissa. It meant cloaks with warming charms over and under them; it meant her pale skin flushed, hot and sweaty. It meant moans and grunts and hard sounds of flesh against flesh.

First Monday they shared like this was when both of them were fifth years. They both had stayed in Hogwarts for the Winter Holidays. The castle was empty, and sneaking around was that much easier. They hadn't planned for it, at least Sirius didn't. He wasn't so sure about Narcissa; she tended to plan everything and managed to get what she wanted. It was awkward, and Sirius was afraid: afraid to hurt her, afraid he would do something wrong and she would just change her mind, afraid that he would utterly humiliate himself. His hands had shaken, and he was rendered speechless as he saw her bare in front of him, her dark blonde curls covering her core. She had bled when he entered her with a single finger, surprising Sirius who expected it to happen after, once he was actually inside of her. He had stared at his finger... Shocked, mesmerised, floored. It had felt like a milestone. A barrier broken, not of flesh but something much deeper... He knew of course that it was just another misogynistic thought that a woman's virginity was somehow sacred. Of course, he knew. It didn't change anything, though; he had felt honoured, felt like she belonged to him now. Her blood belonged to him. She had looked at him, with slightly glassy eyes and laughed a joyful laughter, taking away Sirius' worries. They had made love after that. Sirius came before she could, but she didn't seem to mind. She had laughed and kissed him, suddenly free in her body. Her muscles had become more relaxed and her movements devoid of embarrassment over her nakedness. Sirius, foolishly taken by her actions, had decided he would see her come undone like she had seen him. It was then they discovered what both needed; when Narcissa had reached up to bit his earlobe whispering "Fuck me," and it was their undoing. Just like that, they knew each other.

After more than a year, Sirius knew what his girl- no, his woman - wanted: everything. She was insatiable and confident in her desires. She wanted his words, she wanted him showing his baser self, that part that groaned and moaned and begged and demanded. She loved trying to keep silent, as she loved letting herself scream; and she loved, loved when he called her "mine". The reminder of their bond, that no matter what happened they would belong to each other.

"Mine," Sirius said to Narcissa as he felt her clenching around him, getting tighter and tighter.

An "Ahhh," was the only response he got from her and she came with a silent scream that existed only in her shuttering eyes, her open mouth and the thin sound that came from it as she exhaled in layered breaths.

"Mine," he said again, continuing his movements with a newfound fervour as he found his own climax.

He fell next to her, letting gravity pull him next to her. They were covered in sweat, and their panting was the only sound he could hear. He held her in his arms and kissed the back of her neck.

Narcissa jumped suddenly. "Don't do that," she said.

"Do what?" he asked.

"When a lover kisses their beloved from the back of their neck they are sure to separate," Narcissa quoted; probably right out of her mother's Book of Supremely Stupid Superstitions. Druella Black was a Rosier by birth, and there could not be found a more superstitious family. Sirius laughed at Narcissa's worry and held her closer to himself.

"Don't worry love, you belonged to me."

The end of their sixth year was worse than anything else Sirius went through. He had said goodbye to Narcissa in a dark corner of the train, a risk they took every year. Not that it wasn't expected of two young people who were engaged to one another to find a dark corner to snog. But their situation was much more complicated than that. Sirius was labelled a blood-traitor and being seen with him would endanger Narcissa's reputation, and it was crucial that she had a good one. The war was getting worse every other day, and they would wait until the dormitories and their family's prejudice no longer separated them. How else would she remain safe? They had decided the blood contract that ensured they'd marry would be kept as a secret from their friends, and they'd ignore each other when not alone. They had decided their relationship would be a secret until they graduated and they would get married the next day. Things, of course, would get worse, there would be a war: but Sirius' brain and Narcissa's cunning was deadly when combined. And she knew, of course, that Sirius would fight; and he knew that she would be behind the curtain, using her mind to ensure that he was safe.

He hated being alone, being without her. His sanity and safety belonged to her. Without her, he felt... on the edge. Cygnus Black, Narcissa's father, had taken his daughter from the train station and he didn't hear from her since then, it had been more than a month. He wanted to write to her, but he no longer had an owl.

He had entered the Grimmauld Place with his Hogwarts trunk and brass cage that held Ethertune; a tawny owl that he got when he was eleven. His mother had taken her wand the moment the door closed behind them and pointed it at the bird. Avada Kedavra, a blink, and the bird had died.

Just like that.

Sirius couldn't even scream nor could he move. He just stared at the lifeless body of the animal he loved so much, and tried to will him to move: surely, he would. Life didn't end like this. Life was not so motionless, and Ethertune would just rise now and hoot. He had a beautiful hoot, and a hoot just did not stop existing.

It was Sirius' fault, of course. He should never have brought the bird inside the house with a cage; he knew how dark his family was. He should have freed the bird and let him fly home instead. He'd be alive if Sirius had been smarter but he had lowered his guard and didn't think. When you didn't think, people die, animals die; you die.

Sirius sat on his bed and tried to forget the unmoving body of his owl, he tried to forget Narcissa was out of his reach and focused on moving the glass on his bedside table without a wand. His mother had of course taken his wand before she locked him in his room. Sirius was getting very good at wandless magic thanks to that, but if he had his wand he could dismantle the vile wards that were keeping him locked here.

After mastering several easy charms he had tried to nudge the wards with his magic, and he ended up on the ground, puking. The magic ingrained in them was disgusting, loathsome, and despicable. He had immediately known that his mother sacrificed some living thing for the wards, maybe even a human. She would find a muggle if that was the case since Sirius knew she was too lazy to best a magical to kill them.

But Sirius was a Marauder, and Marauders didn't give up. They always found a way. He was an animagus and one of the creators of the first known Map of Hogwarts, as sentient as the castle herself. You just can't imprison someone like that without them trying to get out with everything they have, and he may lack a wand but he had his magic. So he tried.

He planned, too. He would get out and run, find Narcissa (she was in Villa Nigrae, at her family home, no doubt, and he knew the Villa like the back of his hand), and they would run if she said yes. They would get married. Because something was brewing, something bad, and he'd be damned if he would let it. They would quit Hogwarts if necessary. Dumbledore would help them. Potters would help them. McGonagall, Remus, Peter... He had friends. Real friends: trustworthy friends that would help him: loyal and brave people. His mother wouldn't be able to understand the advantage Sirius had, she wouldn't even see it coming. No one would ever expect Sirius to actually care about Narcissa, they had played their roles good enough.

He heard his door open and the glass he had levitated with wandless magic fell and crashed.

Too late.

His mother was standing by the door, looking at him disdainfully, like he was a new breed of insect. He stood up not allowing her to have the height advantage if he'd stayed seated and looked down at her. Too late, he thought again, whatever she is planning begins now.

"Follow me," she said.

Sirius followed Walburga carefully and as they descended the stairs an eerie feeling surrounded Sirius. They entered the reception hall. He could feel that there was a new magic around the house. The very air felt strung, like a bow ready to spring. A spell. He stopped by the door and tried to take a step back out of the room, ready to run but as he moved the doors of the reception hall snapped shut, locking him inside. He felt stupid, why had he follow his mother? Why didn't he bolted pass her and run? Why would he not take the opportunity? His mind was in chaos, she has a wand and you don't, you would never be able to escape. He shushed the voice in his had. He should have tried, he was younger and stronger than his mother. He could overpower her and escape. But he hadn't and now it was happening, whatever that was.

He felt something shifting in the air and he docked as tendrils sprang out of her mother's wand. She tried again and again but Sirius was agile, and he had practised. In the end, it didn't help him too much, his mother got more and angrier and the spell that he didn't manage to run rendered him unable to fight back.

Irons were burning inside of him, and all his organs were being squeezed as drops of fire prickled his skin. Every hair in his body was being pulled. His eyes were being gauged. A hot coal was dropped into his mouth. His fingernails were being pulled. His feet were turning to ice, ready to break. His testicles were turning inside out. His cock was being pierced. Every bone inside his body was breaking. The pain was all there was. Pain. He could almost hear the sound of it, taste it. The pain was a reality, an all-consuming, never-ending reality. He tried to keep his mind intact, to remain calm and logical. It would end. No one could keep this up forever. Not even Voldemort, surely not his mother.

It did end.

"That's for shaming our House," Walburga said, and her glee filled the room like something tangible.

Sirius didn't respond. He stayed on the ground, not trying to look at her. He tried to organise his thoughts. He knew his mother had reached the point of no return. Her experiments with magic had caused the little sanity she owned to go out the window, and a mad witch with the knowledge and magical power she had was a dangerous thing. He had to run away, somehow. He tried to reach into himself, focus, maybe if he'd touch the magic of the circle, there would be an out. But he failed. His mind was still burning with the after effects of the curse and he couldn't focus like he needed.

"You, as a blood traitor are no longer worthy to marry a Black,"

He heard Walburga speak but his mind had stopped working. He had heard what she said, but what did she mean? He felt like all his knowledge about words and their meanings had vanished. Every movement ceased their existence, and there was a sound ringing in his ears. What? he thought.

"What?" he heard himself ask.

Walburga scoffed, and pulled out a parchment, levitating it with magic.

The contract.

It was the contract between him and Narcissa and Sirius felt his blood draining from his face, his throat closing up.

The ritual was to break his bond to Narcissa. Breaking a contract sealed with blood was not easy. It required blood from each party, and it required much more than what was given to seal it. To break a blood contract meant…

"Where is Narcissa?" he asked, unable to hide his panic.

"Don't pretend as if you care for her. If you did you would work to be worthy of her," Walburga said.

I did, Sirius thought, I am. His mother continued. "She is with her father and soon going to be well. A much better match is waiting for her; a match more suitable for our noble house..."

"You can't... You can't break the contract," Sirius said.

"Cygnus and I had already decided." Walburga smiled: an odd image. She aimed her wand at him and Sirius could feel the magic humming, strengthening around him. The magic that was strained, waiting to be unleashed was slowly closing in on him.

"Stop. You have to stop," he found himself begging. He didn't even think of his pride, it didn't exist anymore. He fell to his knees. If he were to beg he should do it properly. Blacks never bow, he remembered his grandfather saying.

Blacks never kneel.

Blacks never beg.

Narcissa.

"Please. Mother. Mum. Please," he ignored the tears in his eyes as the pain started to settle on the surface of his skin. "I love her. I beg you. Stop. Please. I love her!"

It was too late.

Too late.

His blood was pouring out of his body like sweat. His sight was gone - his eyes covered in blood. Every part of his body was oozing blood. He groaned and let a dry scream leave his throat. He knew it wasn't only his pain; he felt hers too. That meant she felt his and he tried, oh he tried, not to feel anything. He tried to win over the pain. He cried and screamed until he no longer could until he no longer could keep coherent thought. Nothing mattered as a promise he gave when he didn't even know the meaning of the word was forced out of him.

Sirius woke up to see a pair of familiar eyes looking at him.

Regulus.

He tried to move, he managed barely.

"Open your mouth," Regulus said.

Sirius opened his mouth and Regulus poured a potion down his throat. Blood-Replenishing Potion, his mind registered.

"Swallow," Regulus reminded him unnecessarily, then he held him and helped him to his feet, he could barely stand, but Regulus made him lean onto him. He carried Sirius until they reached the door of the townhouse and he opened it. Once they were out Regulus offered Sirius his wand. He took it with shaking hands.

"Go. And don't come back," Regulus said.

"Narcissa..." Sirius managed to croak.

"She is to wed with Malfoy. They are going to seal the contract once she is healed. Don't try anything Sirius."

Sirius didn't say anything.

"You have to apparate yourself, I can't you know... the trace," Regulus rushed him.

"Come with me," Sirius said, barely forming the words.

"No, I won't. I have no desire to be like you Sirius," Regulus said. "Don't talk to me at Hogwarts either, we aren't friends. From tomorrow, I believe we won't even be brothers. Consider this my last duty as your brother. We are done."

With that he turned and went back inside the house. Sirius took a deep breath and apparated to the entrance of Potter Manor, finding it scarily easy to make his mind devoid of any feelings. He found that not caring if you were to be splinched helped a great deal to avoid it.

When he appeared in front of the gates of the place he loved so much, he let himself to the ground. His body ached, and he was unable to move any further. He stared at the moonless sky and let the pain wash over him as he slowly started to drift between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Fleamont Potter jumped from his bed, waking his wife as he did so.

"Monty, what's going on?" he heard his wife ask.

"The wards, Fifi...Wake James up,"

With that he was running out of the room, wand in hand, praying to every deity that it wasn't Death Eaters. Surely they wouldn't manage to get in easily. He felt his son and wife behind him, as he was about to open the door of their home.

"You two stay inside, wands ready" he ordered them and went out.

There was no movement from the wards but they were still being breached. Someone was just at the border. It could be anyone. He waved his wand and put a silencing charm on his feet and continued his walk towards the gates of his property.

"Right behind you, Dad," he heard James.

"Go back inside," he hissed but James stopped him suddenly, holding his arm in a bruising grip. He looked almost like a deer for a second as he eyed the gates warily.

"What is it, James?" he heard his wife's voice. So she was there too, great. He had a band of rebels as a family. No one listened to him anymore.

"It's Sirius," said James.

Fleamont squinted and looked at the dark silhouette of something sitting before the gates, but there was no indicator that pointed it being Sirius.

"Son, you can't..." he begun to say, but James was already running towards the gates, no longer trying to be silent.

"Merlin's beard..." Fleamont complained and darted behind him, only a split second behind Euphemia.

"It's Sirius!" James shouted again as he got closer. Both Fleamont and Euphemia could only see that their son was right when James was already leaning to check up on his friend.

"He is hurt!" he heard James say, and he saw his wife sprinting with a new found strength towards the figure.

Fleamont caught up and looked at the boy he knew since he was a little boy of eleven and the blood left his face. Sirius was lying, covered in blood: his hair soaking wet, his face stained with blood coloured tears, and his clothes colour of a brownish dirty red.

"Is− the blood Fifi, is it his?" he asked, afraid of the answer.

He saw his wife nod once as few teardrops fell from her eyes, but her voice was firm as ever as she spoke. "He is alive. Help me levitate him."

Fleamont saw out of the corner of his eye that James was pale and shaking as he watched Sirius being hoisted up in the air and carried away. They entered the house in silence and minding that Sirius was still securely levitated. They took him to the nearest room with a bed, and carefully laid him on it.

"What happened to him?" he heard his son ask.

Fifi was performing some diagnostic spells on the boy, and Monty had no idea, so no one answered James. After a few minutes, Fifi sighed and sat down on the bed, touching Sirius' hair gingerly.

"Blood replenishing potion, along with a good supply of Vitamix and Pepper-up," she said. "We need some nutrients as well. I believe we have a good amount in the cabinet, James."

James nodded and rushed out; no doubt running to get the things his mother had counted.

"Fifi?" Monty asked but she shook her head, distraught, still caressing Sirius' hair lovingly. The minutes passed in silence as James entered the room once again, carrying a bag undoubtedly full of potions.

Fifi immediately started to work, first rennervating Sirius so he could drink his potions. Black scion didn't fight or questioned his whereabouts and drank the potions given to him, and fell back to bed.

"He'll be staying with us," his wife said.

"Of course he will," Monty responded immediately, there was a silence after that as the Potter family looked at the boy lying in their guest bed. After a while, Fleamont spoke: "It was his parents, wasn't it?"

"I don't know for sure, but it must be. It was a... I think I know what it was. I think they broke a blood contract, Monty," Fifi said, obviously distraught.

"Why? What blood contract? He didn't have one," James said, confused.

Fleamont shook his head; he knew his wife must be right. Blacks loved their contracts. "We don't know if he had or didn't," he said firmly. "I'll contact Albert Shacklebolt. We can trust him, and he is a good healer."

Fleamont left the room to go to the fireplace in his study to contact his friend, trying to keep his calm and not to breakdown to try as he thought about the blood soaked clothes of Sirius and his ghastly pale face.

Healer Shacklebolt kept Sirius unconscious with sleeping droughts, and checked on him once every day. James hovered over his friend during that time, watching as sometimes his friend, his brother, broke sweat at night, murmuring incoherently in his sleep. He wasn't surprised that Sirius had nightmares; whatever happened to him was not a simple curse. It wasn't even the Cruciatus Curse. James had written to Remus and Peter explaining that Sirius was with them now, but didn't elaborate not knowing how to break the news. Remus though had promised to come after the full moon to visit them both. And if Sirius wanted to tell them what happened, he could do so himself.

His best friend woke up in the middle of the night; James was reading the first volume of Mysteries of Transfiguration, a complicated read which was what he needed to force his focus on anything but Sirius' condition. He felt before he saw Sirius waking up, and he put the book down hastily and moved to help his friend.

Sirius looked panicked at first, but when he saw James he relaxed. They sat; James on the edge of the bed and Sirius under the bed cover.

"So, you look less like an inferi now," James said in a pathetic attempt to ease the tension. Sirius, somehow, found something to laugh at and chuckled lowly. James looked and saw the pained expression on his face.

"I was relieved from my Betrothal Contract," Sirius explained.

"What betrothal?" James asked, surprised.

Sirius took a deep breath and looked at James, apologetically. "I couldn't tell you," he said slowly.

"You couldn't tell me you were engaged? Why not? What do you think I would have done?"

"Nothing," Sirius said. "Narcissa taught it was better to hide we care about each other, and I agreed."

"Narcissa?" James said startled. "Narcissa Black, your cousin, that Narcissa?"

Sirius flinched at James' tone. "We were engaged since my first birthday," he said slowly. "She was always... Narcissa, not... I don't think of her as my cousin. She is, yes, but not like... She was always the woman I'd marry one day."

James could see Sirius pained by his apparent distaste for the situation. Inbreeding was a part of the Black family and it made sense that they arranged a cradle betrothal for their eldest scion immediately.

"If not Narcissa it would be Andromeda or Bellatrix," Sirius chuckled. "I'm sure if it were Bellatrix she'd kill me the moment I was sorted into Gryffindor."

James nodded, agreeing with Sirius. "So you are no longer... uh... engaged?" he asked, Sirius shook his head and his eyes got teary. James didn't know what to do since he never saw Sirius this fragile. He looked as if he was going to break down any second now.

"Did you love her?" he asked, hoping he sounded gentle.

Sirius shrugged, but James knew it was an admission.

"Look, I should call for Mum and tell her you are awake," James said suddenly deciding what they need to do. "I'm sure you'll be forced to eat some disgustingly healthy thing, and then we'll figure out what to do."

"They are going to marry her to Lucius Malfoy," Sirius' voice cut him.

James looked at his friend, disgusted by the idea that anyone would be unlucky enough to marry the pompous git.

"Not if we kidnap her before they seal the deal, yeah?" James grinned. Sirius looked at him, hopeful yet unsure. "It would surpass anything we ever done as the Marauders! Remus is coming over in a couple of days, we'd go wherever Narcissa is, bundle her in the invisibility cloak, and then bolt right outta there! You get your bird, we get to be the ones that helped the disgraced son of the Blacks to kidnap the snobbiest of pureblood princesses. It will be legendary! A tale worthy of songs and ballads..."

It had turned out to be worthy of a ballad, James thought, but not the way they hoped. James had written Remus and Peter, prompting them to come immediately: Marauder Emergency. Come at once. Matter of great importance. - Prongs, he had written to two parchments and sent them with his and his parents' owls. His friends didn't fail them and both were in the fireplace that day. His mother and father had thought they came to be there for Sirius while he recovered, he didn't tell them they had planned to kidnap Narcissa Black from her home.

Peter and Remus were shocked; but they agreed to help immediately. They made their plans, bagged the invisibility cloak, and apparated to the nearest safe location to the Villa Nigrae. Remus had waited for them near the gates, and James had turned to his animagus form, since Villa Nigrae was near the woods it would be safer to be seen as a stag. Peter transformed himself to his rat for and Remus put him inside Sirius' pocket, just in case if he needed back up, and Sirius wore the cloak and sneaked inside the Villa.

They had waited, and when Sirius appeared in the woods from under the cloak Narcissa wasn't with them. Peter had jumped from his pocket and returned to his human form.

"Sorry, Padfoot..." he said, worried and sad for his friend. James' heart broke for Sirius. It turned out that Narcissa was already engaged to Lucius with another blood contract. There was no out of it.

Going back to Hogwarts felt good, but also horrible. Sirius dreaded seeing Narcissa yet yearned for it. His emotions were all over the place and he knew he was agitated, and sometimes snapped at his friends. He felt lucky that they didn't give up on him already, for when his angry mood dissolved it felt good to be able to sit with friends.

He watched her during the classes, unable to take his eyes off of her as she took her notes or worked on her potions. He watched her in the corridors as she passed by him in the corridors. He watched her in the Great Hall as she ate. Sometimes she would look at him, their eyes would meet and the Marauders would pretend like they haven't seen it. She would then avert her eyes, and pretend like nothing had happened. She was good at that, Sirius knew. She was good at pretending and adapting, nothing like Sirius.

Lily came down to the common room one day that he felt particularly miserable and found him drinking firewhiskey by himself. She just looked and then sat next to him, prompting him to fill a glass for her as well. He transfigured a button from his shirt into a glass and poured her some as well. He didn't make a joke about her being the head girl and drinking firewhiskey.

"What brought the great Sirius Black's mood so down, I wonder?" she asked, looking at him after she finished her first glass.

Sirius filled it once more and shrugged. "What else but a girl?"

Lily snorted. "Girl of the week turned you down?"

Sirius laughed bitterly. "There was never a girl of the week, Lils. It was always the same girl."

Lily stopped, turned to him with surprise. "I didn't know..."

Sirius shrugged and looked at the girl that he somehow became good friends. "You weren't supposed to."

"Who was she?" Lily asked.

"Doesn't matter..."

Lily didn't say anything for a while, instead watching the flames dance around and burning the wood, slowly turning it to ash. "Is there a chance for you to get her back?" she asked gently.

"No, none," Sirius said.

"Then you have to get over it," Lily said, and although her tone was not cold it was matter−of−fact. "Don't let your misery to bring you down with itself, you know?"

"Oh, Evans the Wise has spoken."

"That's right, you prat. I have spoken," she said. "I'm not saying forget her. I'm saying don't forget yourself."

Lily always spoke her mind, but this time she didn't make him angry, though.

"I will wallow in my self-pity for a little while longer I think," he said and winked at her. Lily laughed then started to cough.

"Oh God, my throat is burning."

Sirius joined her laughs, because yes, his throat was burning too, and it was easier to laugh than to feel the lump that made a permanent home inside his chest.

"You know, things are only going to get worse, Lily-pad," Sirius looked at the girl that he had thought nothing more than a swot that his best mate seemed obsessed with for years before they started to talk about their families one night with the help of some rum that Peter sneaked out to get. Lily was the only person who understood what he went through; she knew how it felt being rejected by family so they became friends after that. He knew he took her sister's place in her heart, like she took Regulus' place in his. "You shouldn't waste more time."

Lily looked at him questioningly but Sirius didn't elaborate. He didn't think he needed to. Lily would understand when she was supposed to.

The first Monday that he saw her name on the map, in their spot, Sirius' heart attempted to break out of his chest. He left the Map open on his bed, and bolted out of the common room, only to realise it was way harder to sneak without it. He found his way to the Astronomy Tower much later than usual, hoping she hadn't left.

And she didn't. She was there, sitting on her cloak that was bundled up like a pillow. He ran to her while she got up from where she was sitting, and in a few seconds they were in each other's arms and kissing.

It was frantic and hurried, as if they were trying to prove a point by it, as if they were trying to convince the world that they belonged to this kiss. It wasn't long before they were shedding each other's clothes in haste, with trembling fingers and laboured breaths. They didn't talk; no words would be enough for this welcome. It needed skin, contact, a reminder...

Only after, when they caught their breaths in each other's arms Narcissa spoke: "How did you know I was here?"

"I have my ways," Sirius answered kissing her naked shoulder.

Narcissa turned so she'd face him and traced his forehead, cheekbone and chin with her fingertips. Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat, as he no longer felt safe with her here, in their secret space. He watched as her eyes followed his face and avoided his eyes. He watched her eyelashes, the tip of her nose and where her lips met with her chin.

"Will we meet again?" he asked.

"It's wrong," she whispered sounding absent-minded.

Sirius' felt his anger rising. Narcissa must have felt it too because she looked up to meet his eyes.

"I'm betrothed to someone else, Sirius," she said. "I'll be married at the end of the school year. The contract has an expiration date this time, Abraxas Malfoy insisted."

"You belong to me," Sirius said, pulling her towards himself.

"Not anymore."

"Narcissa."

She turned to her husband of three years. He looked tired. He didn't look this bad even when he did some vile thing for his Lord. No, Narcissa knew Lucius was truly afraid, maybe for the first time in his life; the Dark Lord had fallen and Death Eaters were arrested at a rapid pace.

"Yes, Lucius?" she said.

Lucius stood still for two seconds, allowing his ever-existing mask to fall, showing the unease he felt. Narcissa felt her heart constrict.

"I have... something to tell you," he begun.

Narcissa wanted to scream. Thoughts were rushing into her head. Didn't his claim of Imperius work? Was he to be sent to Azkaban? What, she thought, what can be worse than what we are living now?

"Sirius Black-"

"No!" Narcissa said. No, the war is over. He can't be dead, we lost, he won.

Lucius stopped and looked at her questioningly. She knew her response showed him that she still loved Sirius, and that was unfair to him who had done nothing but cherish her, but she didn't care. She loved Sirius all her life, and that kind of love was not erased because she also cared for Lucius.

"He is alive," Lucius said quickly. It didn't sound as if he thought it was good news. Still Narcissa let out a relieved sigh.

"Oh, thank... Thank Morgana."

"He is in Azkaban," was the next thing her husband said and Narcissa's quickly spinning world came to a halt. She looked at Lucius like he had lost all his wit and sanity.

"What are you talking about?" she demanded.

"Potters apparently had a secret keeper. Who could it be but Sirius Black?" Lucius shrugged. "They sent him to Azkaban. I don't know when he'll get a trial, but..."

Narcissa huffed. "Don't be ridiculous Lucius," she said. "Sirius would never betray his friends. He would never betray anyone for that matter." It's okay, she thought, everything would clear once he got his trial. He'll be alright.

Sirius never got a trial.

Days passed. Weeks and months followed, and Narcissa watched as no one seemed to care about the Order member that was thrown to the vilest prison on earth. She saw some of Sirius' old comrades, his friends from the House of the Brave. They looked at her with undisguised hatred and she sneered at them. How dare they look down at her, while they left the person who risked his life for them alone with dementors?

Traitors, the lot of them...

Everywhere she looked she saw vermin; pathetic and weak.

At least Lucius was free and quickly rebuilding his reputation in the Ministry. The wizarding world was economically crippling after the war and Malfoy money was too good to ignore. She could deal with the hatred of blood-traitors; no, not deal; she could take pride in their disgust of her.

It was twelve years after when Sirius Black had done the impossible and escaped from Azkaban.

It was an ordinary morning for the Malfoy family; they ate their breakfast over small talk and Lucius informing their son of their schedule for the day. After he finished his breakfast her husband started to read the Daily Prophet with his second cup of tea, as usual.

Narcissa was about to ask Draco if he wanted Theodore Nott to come over next week when Lucius choked on his tea and started to cough.

"Are you well, dear?" she asked her husband, worried. Lucius was looking at the first page of the Prophet with disbelief. Narcissa had never seen her husband that... shocked. They shared a concerned look with her son, who had raised his eyebrows, and returned her gaze towards her husband.

Lucius nodded once.

"Yes... Yes. I'm fine," he said and cleared his throat. "Sirius Black has escaped."

"Escaped?" she asked stupidly.

"Yes," Lucius said, now collected once again.

"From Azkaban?" she asked.

"Who is Sirius Black?" Draco asked curiously and stood up to glance at the newspaper his father was holding as Lucius answered Narcissa:

"Yes, darling, and no one knows how; apparently."

Narcissa turned to her son to answer his question. It was easier to focus on Draco; she was strong when her son was there.

"Sirius Black is the son of Walburga and Orion Black; he would be the head of our-" she stopped herself and corrected: "of the House of Black if he were not in Azkaban."

"Oh, he is your cousin then?" Draco asked and Narcissa nodded an affirmative; had she ever thought Sirius as a cousin? "Why was he imprisoned?"

"He was believed to be the one that betrayed the Potter family to the Dark Lord," Lucius answered for Narcissa, undoubtedly sensing his wife's distress over the matter. Still Narcissa couldn't stop herself from defending her once fiancé.

"He never had a trial," she snapped.

"That is correct," Lucius bowed his head. Their eyes met, and Narcissa saw Lucius' concern for her and a warm feeling took over her heart. She reached for his hand, and held it, trying to convey that no matter what she felt for Sirius, she loved him too. Even though they tried to never talk about Sirius Black, Narcissa knew that Lucius always felt a little insecure when it came to her feelings.

Their marriage was hard at first, of course. Narcissa was tortured and almost bled to death so her family could make a bride of her for the House of Malfoy, and at first, she didn't feel any love for Lucius. But he was a gentlewizard, a kind man; despite being a Death Eater. Not that she blamed him for that. Abraxas Malfoy had raised Lucius to become one, after all. As a young boy, Lucius met with the Dark Lord on many occasions, and he never had a choice over the matter. At least he was smart enough to remain free once his Lord vanished into thin air.

She had learned to love Lucius. They were a family now with a son to be proud of. She loved him, and was loyal to him. And as anyone who was born a Black, her loyalty was unwavering. She would not go back to Sirius, even if it were possible. She would stand by Lucius, support him in good and the bad. She had taken vows. She loved her husband. No matter what she felt for Sirius that would never change.

Dead.

Sirius Black had died, while battling Death Eaters; among them was her husband. Lucius was a part of a trap that killed her Sirius. What could she feel? Could she mourn her long lost love, or feel desperate over her husband's imprisonment?

Dead, reminded the wretched voice inside her head. Sirius Black is dead.

Narcissa closed her eyes, squeezing them shot. She was trembling, fighting her tears from falling down.

Sirius is dead.

"It'll be alright, mother."

She opened her eyes, and met the grey eyes; beautiful, caring, lovely eyes; of her son. He reached and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"He'll be alright," he said, whispering the words he thought would be a comfort to her.

He is dead.

She shook her head. She couldn't lie to her son and pretend as if she were crying over her husband. She wasn't; despite the guilt that came with it. She couldn't cry for Lucius, even though she knew he was there to protect them. To make sure she and her son were safe. But what did it matter?

He was in Azkaban, fallen out of favour. And Sirius Black was dead. Her sister made sure everyone knew she had killed him.

"You should have seen his face Cissy! The blood traitor falling to the veil..."

She could still hear Bellatrix's laughter echoing in the halls.

"I killed Sirius Black."

"I'll make sure, you'll see," Draco hugged her, and she closed her arms around him, enveloping her son who had grown so much, so fast. "I'll take care of you now, I promise."

THE END

Hello, dear readers!

This was rather sad to write and I personally can't believe that I killed Sirius. It was something I was sure I'd always avoid but apparently not.

I saw this ship in passing on Tumblr and well, tried it myself.

I hope that you enjoyed reading it even though it is particularly gloom. It would make me incredibly happy to read your reviews!

You can find me at synoir . tumblr . com

Synoir