Part Two: Howling in the Wind
Title: Howling in the Wind
Author: calrissian18
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Sirius/Draco. Remus/Draco.
Rating: NC-17
Prompt # 19 - Sirius and Remus share Draco. At first, everything is fine but soon Sirius finds himself becoming more and more jealous.
Word Count: ~12,000
Summary: The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of a mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one. ~ Wilhelm Stekel
Warnings: Highlight to read*Post-war, AU, Accidentally holiday-y*
Disclaimer: I own my imagination and this computer, other than that my world pretty much belongs to JKR.
A/N: It took me forever to come up with an idea for this. I hope that doesn't come across in the story. In fact, I have no idea why I even told you that. Ignore me. I knew from day one where this was going! It was still a joy to write for you, tabitha666, even if it was a bit like pulling teeth for a while there. By the way, Hunger Games quote totally thrown in there because I've watched it about sixteen times now … I regret nothing! A million and seven thanks to my beta, aelfrics_cat. I really don't know what I would do without you.
Szeged was lovely but Sirius was having a hard time paying attention to his surroundings. “It's beautiful,” he said, looking at his companion. A waiter came to clear away their bowls of halászlé. Sirius looked up with a word of thanks. The man grinned, undoubtedly not understanding the English. Sirius squinted even under the fan of their umbrella and asked aloud, “Doesn't it ever get overcast?”
Malfoy placed his napkin on the table with delicate fingers and said with a wry smile, “Napfény városa.”
”Sorry?” Sirius asked, turning back to him.
Malfoy's smile smoothed into a smirk. “The city of sunshine,” he clarified.
Sirius nodded and watched the passersby. There were a fair number of foreigners due to the city's rather prestigious university and he and Malfoy hardly looked out of place.
“You cut your hair,” Malfoy remarked.
Sirius startled a bit, they'd been quiet for so long. “The Swedes required it. Long hair is apparently for hippies and criminals.” His hair was cropped short now with a continental part that swept a few strands down over his forehead. It was a smart-looking cut and now that he'd become accustomed to it he could admit that it made him look more professional, if a bit older.
Malfoy laughed. “One for two then.” He looked at Sirius critically and frowned. “Shame,” he decided after a moment. Sirius' face felt warm. Malfoy thankfully didn't notice as he paid the check. “I was thinking about the Minorite Church. Most of the staff are wizards and they've agreed to share the basement level.”
“For what?” Sirius said, feeling as if he'd missed part of the conversation.
Malfoy looked at him askance. “For your Animagus lessons. I figure we'll need more space than mine and Lupin's tiny flat allows.”
“Good thinking,” was all Sirius said. He didn't like thinking of Malfoy and Moony living together. He immediately felt guilty for the uncharitable thought. Remus had lost his wife and Sirius was begrudging him the one bit of happiness he'd managed.
“It's close enough that we can walk if you're ready.”
Sirius nodded and they set off. It was a nice day for the middle of August, not too warm or too cool and Sirius found himself comfortable in the light jacket he was wearing. He stared at the scattered capsicum fruits as they walked and he kicked a few with the toe of his boot. Malfoy was true to his word and he was standing outside a truly impressive cathedral before he 'd even found his preferred pace. Malfoy conversed with one of the men at the door in rapid-fire Hungarian and moments later they were led downstairs by an attractive woman that barely came up to Sirius' shoulder.
The underground level was just as striking as the cavernous entryway had been and Sirius found himself staring at the intricate, gold leaf designs with something like reverence. Finally they branched off and stepped inside a smaller, but by no means claustrophobic, room that could have fit Grimmauld Place inside of it at least five times over. Malfoy said something to the woman at the door and she left them with a slight curtsey.
All along the walls were windows that had been charmed to reflect the sky outside and artificial light fell into the room in slats. Sirius could see particles of dust dancing in the slanted rays. Underneath the windows were mosaic paintings. They had been done in strong bursts of color that added to the gripping warmth of the room. He tipped his head back and stared up at the high ceiling, lines of filigree outlining every outcropping.
“How did you find this place?” Sirius heard himself ask.
“Lupin and I took a tour of the city when we first came to Szeged. I kept coming back here.” Malfoy was staring up into the vaulted ceiling as well. “It's not just the beauty but also the feel of it. The magic here swells and rocks like waves.”
Sirius nodded agreeably. Malfoy was right. The room had a lazy Saturday afternoon sort of feel to it. It reminded Sirius of sitting out by the Hogwarts' lake with Remus and James while the giant squid's tentacles lolled in the shallows, swaying with the water.
Sirius shook himself, realizing belatedly that he was staring at the pale column of Malfoy's throat. “So, becoming an Animagus.” Malfoy's attention snapped back to him. “There's a lot of theory involved which I understand you've been reading up on?” Malfoy nodded. “But there's also a physical and mental component to it. It's about finding what's inside of you and animating it.” He found himself grinning, easing back into the playful teasing they'd had between them at Grimmauld. “So what do you think it'll be?”
Malfoy's lips quirked to the side, a smile hiding under the expression. “Hopefully something that's not ostentatious and big as a bear like some people I know. I'm looking for discreet.”
Sirius rolled his eyes and reminded him, “You don't get to choose your animal, Malfoy.”
“Still,” Malfoy put in with a snobby inflection to his voice, “I'm sure I'll be something dainty and alluring. And quick. And intelligent. And powerful. Like a Snidget.”
Sirius perked a dark brow. “You want to be a Snidget?”
Malfoy knocked him flat on his back with a quick hex while Sirius laughed. Malfoy helped Sirius to his feet once he'd composed himself and motioned for him to take center stage. The first lesson was painfully unproductive and Sirius could tell Malfoy was unaccustomed to not getting something right away and his frustration was nearly palpable.
The next few lessons followed the same pattern and Malfoy had no problem laying the blame for it at Sirius' feet. He also seemed to have no shame over the positive tantrums he threw. As his frustration grew, so did the amount of name-calling and accusatory finger pointing. Sirius found the whole thing rather amusing.
And if he was reliving that night in Norway far more than he should then that only meant that he needed to get laid. And soon. It was getting more and more difficult to stay in the same flat as Malfoy and Moony, to share their meals and sleep in the room next to theirs. As time wore on, his attraction to Malfoy was getting to be a real effort to ignore.
At the start of September, he finally snapped and put a crack in the table after seeing Malfoy and Remus share their customary goodnight kiss with a bit more tongue than usual. Malfoy hadn't seemed to notice and he went off to the bedroom he shared with Moony without a care. Sirius hadn't gotten as lucky with Remus. And this wasn't another exploded glass that he could pass off as a strong grip.
Remus placed his cup of tea down on the side table. He pulled his wand out of his robe's lining and tapped the split wood twice. “Do be careful. That is mahogany,” Remus said reprovingly. The rent pieces of coffee table carefully stitched back together and the crack sealed itself. Remus cleared his throat and leaned back in his seat. “You're wound awfully tight,” he observed.
“Malfoy and I fucked last year.” No use beating around the bush. Still, he hadn't meant to throw that out there quite so bluntly.
“Ah,” was all Remus said. He was the picture of infinite patience.
Sirius scrubbed at his hair, making it look as untidy as James'. “And I've been thinking about it more than I should,” he admitted.
“You still want him,” Remus hazarded.
Sirius gave a shake of his head that became a nod about halfway through. He wasn't sure if he still wanted Malfoy or if he wanted him for the first time. He made himself ask, “How serious are you?”
Remus drummed out a staccato rhythm with his fingers on the arm of his chair. “He's hardly the love of my life if that's what you mean,” he said carefully. “It's more about the comfort and companionship of being with him.” He stared at Sirius steadily as the man hung his head between his knees and fisted his hair. It had obviously cost him quite a lot to admit what he had. Remus took a fortifying breath. “I have no problem with it should you decide to approach him. But it's his decision.”
Sirius' head popped up at seeing Remus' unflinching expression. He swallowed and said hoarsely, “I'll keep that in mind.”
With Remus' blessing, Sirius tried to grab his Gryffindor bravery by the short hairs but he found it impossible to broach the subject with Malfoy. Every time he tried, Malfoy would mention something he'd shared with Lupin or Sirius would linger on Malfoy's age or their consanguinity and his guilt would choke him up. A week after his talk with Remus, during one of his and Malfoy's training sessions, he grabbed Malfoy up by the small of his back, shoved him against the wall and forced his tongue down the boy's throat.
Malfoy was far more than cooperative and Sirius discovered that finally getting to look at Malfoy properly naked was well worth the wait.
- - - - -
Sirius had completely forgotten the brilliance that was fucking Malfoy and he made it his mission to never forget again.
Still, even on nights when he fucked Malfoy into the mattress, the boy would slip out of bed while Sirius was asleep and end up back in Remus' arms before sunrise. Sirius tried not to let that bother him and instead held onto the fact that he could make Malfoy scream.
His physical attraction to Malfoy was being sated and he shouldn't need anything more than that. He could more than handle the little twinge in his chest he felt when he saw Moony and Malfoy together in exchange for getting to throw him down on any flat service he pleased and have his way with him.
“Almost as big as a bear,” Sirius teased as Malfoy stood panting in the middle of their training room. He hadn't quite accomplished a full transformation but Sirius could tell, whatever his Animagus form was, it was quite a bit bigger than a Snidget.
“Shut up,” Malfoy ordered, smacking him in the arm. “It is not.”
Sirius held his hand up parallel to the ground at about nipple height. “At least up to here.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up.”
Sirius grabbed him around the middle. “You still haven't managed to complete it. I bet it turns out to be an Erumpent.”
“I hate you.”
Sirius pressed his lips to Malfoy's quickly. Malfoy bit Sirius' lower lip between his teeth and didn't let go. “Mmm, I hate you too,” Sirius murmured against his mouth. They didn't get any further with Malfoy's transformation that afternoon.
Eventually Malfoy fell asleep on the floor of the practice room while Sirius watched the rise and fall of his chest and stroked his hair back from his face.
- - - - -
Sirius knew something wasn't right when he returned from his afternoon at Dömötör Tower. It was probably his years in prison that had honed his senses to the point where he could simply feel when things were off. It was how he'd always known when the dementors would come. After a while in Azkaban you didn't feel the cold to warn you anymore. A sick slither would crawl its way up his spine and leave him weak and shaking. He felt that now in the empty flat. There was something sinister about its stillness. The more time that passed without any word from Malfoy or Remus, the more certain Sirius became that they wouldn't be back.
At half two, something scratched up against the door. Sirius shot up from where he'd been sitting and staring at the kitchen table and tore it open. Malfoy and Remus all but fell inside. Malfoy had Moony around the middle, an arm thrown over his shoulders as he supported the both of them.
“What the hell happened?” Sirius barked, turning accusatory eyes on Malfoy.
“Help me get him to the bedroom,” was Malfoy's only answer.
Sirius pulled Remus' other arm up around his neck and helped Malfoy to carry him to the bed. Malfoy went off, mumbling something about warm water and Sirius settled Remus back against the pillows. His lip was dribbling blood and half his weathered face was bruised. Sirius eased him out of his robes and he could see now that the man's leg was mangled and there was a large gash that spanned his side, front and back. Remus' bloodied mouth curved into a slick smile. “The werewolves are not forgiving.”
Sirius started to move down the bed to Remus' leg when Remus grabbed his sleeve and tugged. He coughed and then managed, “Be kind to him, Sirius. He doesn't handle things like this well.”
“Things like this?” Sirius parroted, covering Remus' hand with his own in a show of solidarity.
“The threat of losing someone he loves,” Remus forced out. Sirius felt the words like a shot to his chest. Remus' gritted teeth were blood-covered. “He'll shut down if you let him,” he wheezed.
Sirius swallowed and nodded. He left to find Malfoy. The sink in the kitchen was overflowing and Malfoy was staring at the running faucet without really seeing it. His hands were splayed on either end of the basin and his hair was lank around his drawn face. Sirius snapped his fingers in front of the boy's face. Malfoy blinked and shook his head. “Go. I'll take care of this. Call Poppy.”
Malfoy seemed surprised by the mess but he nodded gamely, his face ashen. He walked away like he was moving through a fog. Sirius heard the Floo flare a moment later as he turned off the faucet and spelled away the mini flood Malfoy had caused.
Poppy came quickly and she stitched Remus up as best she could but he still spent the next three days unconscious. Sirius found Malfoy out in the sitting room on the fourth. A book was open in his lap and he was staring blankly into the empty grate. Malfoy still hadn't managed to set foot inside Moony's room since the night they'd carried him into it. He'd been falling asleep on the couch instead and Sirius would carry him to bed when the time came.
“Are you all right?” Sirius asked as he settled into the rocking chair across from Malfoy.
Malfoy's smile was grim. “Don't I look it?”
Sirius watched him for a long moment before he stood up, stopped in front of Malfoy and brushed the limp hair back from his face. It was still wet and wavy from his shower. “You can handle this. You've handled worse.” He caught Malfoy's eyes and he knew then that Malfoy understood him. His hand dropped down to press against Malfoy's ribs. “It's a shame it scarred.”
Malfoy's lips quirked. “No worse than Potter's curse.”
“He wants to see you,” Sirius told him softly. He knew Malfoy was trying to change the subject, provoke him into defending his godson and normally it would have worked, but Sirius had to say this. Because Remus had asked him to.
Malfoy's chin fell, his damp hair falling into his face. “I can't,” he croaked.
Sirius knew he wouldn't get any more from him that night. All he could do was walk away and carry Malfoy in to bed when it got late enough.
That night when Sirius rolled over and spread his hand out across the sheets no warm body was waiting for him. His first thought was that he was in with Remus but that proved untrue. He eventually found Malfoy out in the back garden, laying with his hands behind his head in the grass and staring up at the stars.
It was early enough that the dew was already sprinkled on the blades of grass and Sirius' back got damp as he lay at Malfoy's side. “Did you manage to go in today?”
“Didn't even open the door.”
“Well done.”
“I thought you'd be proud.”
They didn't talk much more that night, just watched the stars twinkle and argued over whose constellation was better before lapsing into a companionable silence. It didn't take long for Sirius to realize that Malfoy had fallen asleep again and he resumed his resident duty of carting Malfoy off to bed.
The longer Malfoy went without seeing Remus, the more he seemed to cling to Sirius. Sirius didn't know if that was Malfoy's way of guarding him so he didn't go off and get himself nearly killed too or if he was simply lonelier without Remus around. He knew which he preferred.
Soon they were spending not only every day together, but every night too and their relationship had gone from superficial to one of the most deep and meaningful of Sirius' life. They talked about everything and there was nothing too taboo or too infantile.
Malfoy was lying out in the grass again, Sirius at his side as he so often was, when he asked, “Do you think magic comes from the soul? That Muggles are lesser evolved forms of wizards?”
Sirius had heard the theory more than once from some of the more mainstream pureblood families. They used that logic to hide all manner of sins they committed against Muggles. Sirius scoffed. “Magic is in the brain. We've accessed a greater range of it than most are able to, that's all. As for why that is, there's the mystery.”
Malfoy rolled over onto his side and dug his elbow into the dirt so he could prop his head up on his hand. “What do you think?”
Sirius shrugged. “I think some people's destinies are louder than others. I think magic is how they accomplish them.”
Malfoy frowned. He flopped onto his back again and decided, “My destiny seemed a bit evil, didn't it? But not even proper evil, more like childishly disruptive.”
Sirius sniggered before he added earnestly, “Who's to say your destiny's even come about yet?”
- - - - -
Sirius returned from the market with an armload of groceries and he was surprised to find that Malfoy wasn't waiting in the kitchen for him. When he'd finally gotten everything in its proper place and Malfoy still hadn't greeted him, he decided to go off in search of him. Sirius couldn't find him in any of his usual spots and he figured he must've gone off on his own somewhere. Shrugging his shoulders, he set off down the hall, wondering if he might bound out into the backyard and give Snuffles some exercise when he passed Remus' door. It was open a crack, which was unusual.
Sirius peeked inside and saw Malfoy leaning over Remus, one hand resting on the side of Remus' face and the other caught in his grip. “Hey,” Malfoy said in a soft, warm voice Sirius had never heard him use before, “not dead yet then?”
Remus smiled up at him and it made his whole face look more youthful. “You're here,” he said in a low voice, as though afraid to spook him.
Malfoy's eyes crinkled. “About as surprising as the whole 'not dead' thing, eh?”
Remus chuckled. His eyes were bright with that laughter. “I know how you handle any sort of unpleasantness.”
Malfoy fingered a strand of Remus' thinning hair. “I may have gotten a pep talk or ten.”
Remus' smile deepened and he said softly, “Tell Sirius I said thank you.”
Sirius pulled back as Malfoy leaned down. Something inside him broke as he watched their easy intimacy and he suffocated the pain of it in a deep and fervent denial. That night when Malfoy came to bed, Sirius fucked him so hard that Malfoy passed out when he came. Sirius stayed awake next to him, biting at his own swollen lips.
- - - - -
Malfoy went back to splitting his time between them evenly and Sirius was having a hard time adjusting to the loss of him. Especially as Malfoy seemed so unbothered by it. They no longer had those moments where it seemed like they were the only two people in the universe. Sirius shuddered at his own thoughts. Somewhere along the way, he had let himself become grotesquely attached to a snobby little rich boy.
“What is your problem, Black?” Malfoy carped at him as Sirius became more and more belligerent as time carried on, snapping at Malfoy in the practice room during the day and fucking him with unapologetic roughness each night. He was beginning to realize that he didn't really think of Malfoy as that snobby little rich boy anymore and he missed the certainty he'd felt then.
“I don't have a problem, Malfoy,” he retorted just as viciously.
Malfoy refused to speak to him for the rest of the night and just as the flat settled into that quiet that spoke to the bedding down of its inhabitants, Remus shuffled out into the sitting room and took the seat next to him. “You shouldn't be out of bed,” Sirius chastised crossly.
Remus nodded as though in agreement. He was wrapped up in a crocheted blanket that would do nothing to keep him warm and Sirius felt himself grow that much more irritated. He indicated Sirius' untouched cup of tea and Sirius shrugged helplessly. Remus took a grateful sip and smacked his lips. He relaxed into his seat as it swept through him. He dampened his lips and said carefully, “Last time you were this upset it was because you'd been suppressing your attraction to Draco.” Remus smiled evenly. “I know that's not the issue now.”
Sirius stiffened. “I'm not upset.”
“You broke my lamp,” Remus pointed out. Sirius flushed. Malfoy had been fluffing Remus' pillow and laughing about some amusing encounter he'd had on the Tisza riverbank - a story he hadn't felt the need to share with Sirius. In the next instant, the bulb in Remus' reading lamp had sparked and all but exploded. Malfoy and Remus had instantly turned around and caught him in the doorway before he could scuttle off.
“That was an accident,” Sirius muttered mulishly, hunkering down in his chair.
“Sirius,” Remus admonished and Sirius scowled at him. Remus held up a hand and relented with a put upon sigh, “Fine, we won't discuss it.”
Sirius gave a sharp nod of his head and the two of them sat in the most uncomfortable silence they'd ever shared until Remus got up and joined Malfoy in bed.
Sirius broke the fireplace poker in half.
Even Harry seemed to notice something was off. And he was hardly as subtle about it as Remus had been. “Jesus, Sirius, what crawled up your arse and died?” he blurted out after Sirius' bad mood showed no signs of lifting.
“I'm fine,” Sirius gritted out.
“Like hell,” Harry retorted.
“Drop it, Harry. I mean it.”
Harry seemed to hear the undertone of danger and he backed down with a huffy, “Fine.”
- - - - -
“It's almost there, isn't it?” Malfoy was saying a little breathlessly as he came out of the half-transformation. “I just can't seem to hold it long enough to--”
“Be with me.”
Malfoy froze. “What?”
“I want you to myself. You're not in love with Remus,” Sirius said defiantly, jutting out his chin, half-afraid that Malfoy would contradict him.
“No, I'm not,” Malfoy agreed cautiously. Sirius let out the breath he'd been holding. “But he's good for me. He's stable and settled.”
“I can be those things,” Sirius said confidently. He slid Malfoy's hand into his own. “Obviously we already get on well,” he tried, grinning a bit.
Malfoy's hand slipped away and Sirius' tentative grin went with it. “And that's all there is to us,” he continued in that same careful tone. “But I'm not asking for more either,” he added quickly to head off Sirius' ready retort. The corners of his mouth turned down. “You're still stuck in your early twenties mentally and why shouldn't you be? Those years were stolen from you.”
Sirius' hands clenched into fists. “Then I'm the perfect match for you, aren't I?” he said angrily. His voice was shaking and he tried to calm himself.
Malfoy offered him a weak smile. “I feel a hundred. The war fast-forwarded things. Somehow you avoided that. I almost envy you that. But it means we're on different sides of things now.” Malfoy swallowed and didn't quite meet his eyes. “You're immature, and the only thing that seems to be driving you is seeking out anything and everything that feels good, and that's fine for a bit of fun but it doesn't make for a relationship.”
“Oh,” was all Sirius could bring himself to say. He'd agonized over this moment for weeks, planning what he'd say and fantasizing about how Malfoy would respond. The reality of it left him torn between anger and a gaping depression.
He hadn't realized that Malfoy cared about things like that. And why should it concern him anyway, Sirius thought angrily. So what it he was still the Order's go-to for the 'certain death' assignments? He'd bested them every time and he enjoyed the thrill of it besides. Why should he have to apologize for that?
“You don't want something serious now,” Malfoy told him and Sirius tried to believe that, to take heart in how certain Malfoy sounded about how he felt. “Live up your twenties, Black. Drink too much, stay out too late and sleep around.”
- - - - -
Liestal was just as charming as Sirius remembered and the house he'd made his home was still happily vacant as though it had been awaiting his return. He spent his days tearing through the backwoods as Snuffles, running until his legs felt like jelly and panting as though he'd never catch his breath again.
At night he would go out to the local pubs, pick up a blond boy, bring him home and call him by the wrong name.
Soon he was drinking more than was healthy just like his father, sleeping late into the day and staying awake until the sun's first rays were breaking in through his window. None of it brought him any solace. But at least he was doing as Malfoy had told him to.
- - - - -
At the tail end of October, an elf owl delivered a letter from Malfoy about his first successful transformation. He all but ordered Sirius back to Szeged to see it for himself. He'd cleverly refused to tell him what type of animal he'd become, knowing Sirius' curiosity would get the better of him before long.
Sirius Apparated just outside the Minorite. Malfoy was waiting for him when he reached their practice room, a huge smile on his face and Sirius felt as if the air had been punched out of his lungs. Malfoy said the spell and slowly he started to turn.
Sirius let out a breath and approached Malfoy carefully. He stroked a hand down a strong side, the wings lifting a little so he could feel the pelt beneath it. “I've never known them to be this light,” Sirius said softly as the Granian brayed.
All Granians were grey but this one's pelt seemed to shine almost silver when the light hit it. The winged horse tossed its head and Sirius grinned. He lifted the head with his hand under the horse's chin and stared into what were unmistakable grey eyes. “I'm proud of you, Draco.”
The horse melted back into Malfoy and his chest heaved as he caught his breath. “Sirius,” he said, his tone rich with emotion.
Sirius cleared his throat and tried to steer them back into safer waters. “I told you it wasn't small.”
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Practical though,” he pointed out, “with the wings and all.” He sat down cross-legged on the floor and frowned. “I've animated what's inside me into a horse. What does that say about me?”
Sirius barked out a laugh. “Not a horse. A Granian. It's much more distinguished.”
“That is true,” Malfoy agreed stoutly. He fell back onto the floor and stared up at the ceiling. Sirius lay down next to him so their shoulders were touching and neither of them said anything for a long time.
It was getting dark when Sirius broke the moment. “I think I'm done with my twenties,” he said starkly.
Malfoy stirred next to him with a sad sigh. “Sirius,” he started softly. Sirius didn't let him finish.
“I love you.”
Malfoy's eyes were sad and his only response was a slow shake of his head.
- - - - -
Harry, Ron and Hermione showed up at the start of December to recruit him for a trip to Lanzhou that sounded as dangerous as it was inconvenient. Sirius held up his hands to show the knitting needles and yarn that had somehow gotten knotted around his fingers. “I'm clearly very busy,” he pointed out, trying - unsuccessfully - to shake the string loose from his hands.
For some reason, Harry and his friends had decided to stay and watch him as he attempted to get on with his jumper. Harry was sprawled out in the armchair across from him and he looked unimpressed with Sirius' newfound hobby. He still seemed grinnier than usual despite that. “Are you attempting to turn that ball of yarn into a less organized, more tangled ball of yarn?” he asked after he'd watched Sirius throw down and pick up the knitting needles on no less than three occasions.
“This is supposed to be cathartic,” Sirius growled in frustration as he tried to pull out the massive knot he'd somehow gotten in one of the rows.
Harry perked a doubtful eyebrow. “How's that working out for you?”
Sirius shot him a dark look.
“What's with the sudden need for catharsis anyway?” When Sirius didn't answer right away, he added, “And the colors?”
Sirius huddled down in his seat, trying to hide the green and silver threads. “Nothing behind it,” he said evasively.
“Right, mate,” Ron put in. He was lounging on Sirius' couch, looking boneless. He thrust a purposeful finger up in the air. “People take up knitting every day.”
Sirius nodded distractedly. “Exactly.”
“You know,” Hermione started tentatively, leaning over from the chair next to his. She pointed at the tangled mess of mismatched and uneven stitching. “I do know a good spell for that.” Harry chuckled and muttered something about 'house-elf hats' while Ron sniggered. Hermione shot them a quelling look before explaining the charm that would straighten out his stitches and keep the yarn from splitting as it seemed intent on doing. Sirius listened intently while Hermione explained the wand movements in elaborate detail.
- - - - -
“I'm coming, I'm coming,” Draco grumbled as he made his way to the door where the annoying, successive pounding was emanating from.
Draco tore open the door and blinked into the brightness. “Potter?” he squawked in disbelief.
Potter rubbed the back of his neck. “Er, sort of forgot about the time difference, Malfoy.” Draco squinted, trying to help his eyes to adjust, and Potter cleared his throat. “Remus told me you're the one to thank for Sirius,” he said, sticking out his hand.
Draco didn't even notice it. His eyes narrowed and he asked suspiciously, “What about Sirius?”
Potter offered him a tentative sort of smile and lowered his outstretched hand to brush off imaginary dirt from the thigh of his trousers. “I honestly didn't think he'd live to see my nineteenth birthday the way he was going. I know if anyone deserved to move at triple speed it was him but he was going to drive himself into the ground the pace he was at, picking all the most dangerous missions, never content to sit still for even a moment.” Draco pulled his robe closed and crossed his arms over his chest. Potter shrugged. “I guess I wanted to thank you for slowing him down.”
Draco's brow furrowed. “What are you on about?”
“You,” Potter reiterated. “Suddenly it's like he doesn't need to do everything on fast-forward because whatever he had with you was enough living to make up for all that life that he'd lost. I mean, forget the fact that you're related which is just… “ Potter shuddered and hurried on at Draco's dark look, “And it's kind of… nice.”
Draco had no idea what to say to that. Luckily Potter wasn't finished yet anyway.
“I don't know why you've split but I do know that he cares about you, Malfoy. Really cares.” Potter looked up at him earnestly and gave a one-armed shrug. “Maybe you could think about forgiving him for whatever he's done and letting him have another chance? I know he'd rather go back to Azkaban than muck it up again.”
Draco opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again but no words came and Potter shifted anxiously on his step.
“Well, er, that's all I wanted to say, Malfoy,” Potter said finally, adding, “I'll see you around,” before he Disapparated with a crack.
Draco closed the door and stood staring at the wood for a long, quiet moment.
At least until Remus called smugly from the bedroom, “Told you so!”
- - - - -
Two days before Christmas, Sirius sent off the tangled mess of stringy yarn to Draco with a note tucked into the poor stitching.
Draco,
I knitted you a jumper. Well, a scarf. It was meant to be a jumper but knitting has not turned out to be my strong suit. Hopefully it'll do the job of keeping you warm regardless.
Love,
Sirius
The next morning, Sirius opened his door to find Malfoy standing on his stairs. A green and silver mass of knotted and snarled yarn was wrapped around his neck. It looked like a horde of fuzzy, deformed pygmy puffs were trying to strangle him.
Sirius couldn't help but feel buoyed by the sight.
“Merry Christmas, Black,” Malfoy said with an infectious little grin. Sirius just stared at him, biting his lower lip to keep from reacting to the sight of him. “So Lupin and I are finished,” he added casually, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders hunched up.
Sirius closed the door carefully behind himself. “You're wearing the scarf,” he said slowly.
Malfoy placed his hand over a length of it. “I am,” he agreed. “Though you're being very liberal with the definition of 'scarf'.” Sirius couldn't hold back his grin any longer and he grabbed Malfoy around the waist and kissed him dizzy before either of them could ruin the moment with any more talking.
He wasn't quite sure if he'd grown up enough for Malfoy or if Malfoy had grown down for him but he suspected they might have met somewhere in the middle.
Author: calrissian18
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Sirius/Draco. Remus/Draco.
Rating: NC-17
Prompt # 19 - Sirius and Remus share Draco. At first, everything is fine but soon Sirius finds himself becoming more and more jealous.
Word Count: ~12,000
Summary: The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of a mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one. ~ Wilhelm Stekel
Warnings: Highlight to read*Post-war, AU, Accidentally holiday-y*
Disclaimer: I own my imagination and this computer, other than that my world pretty much belongs to JKR.
A/N: It took me forever to come up with an idea for this. I hope that doesn't come across in the story. In fact, I have no idea why I even told you that. Ignore me. I knew from day one where this was going! It was still a joy to write for you, tabitha666, even if it was a bit like pulling teeth for a while there. By the way, Hunger Games quote totally thrown in there because I've watched it about sixteen times now … I regret nothing! A million and seven thanks to my beta, aelfrics_cat. I really don't know what I would do without you.
Szeged was lovely but Sirius was having a hard time paying attention to his surroundings. “It's beautiful,” he said, looking at his companion. A waiter came to clear away their bowls of halászlé. Sirius looked up with a word of thanks. The man grinned, undoubtedly not understanding the English. Sirius squinted even under the fan of their umbrella and asked aloud, “Doesn't it ever get overcast?”
Malfoy placed his napkin on the table with delicate fingers and said with a wry smile, “Napfény városa.”
”Sorry?” Sirius asked, turning back to him.
Malfoy's smile smoothed into a smirk. “The city of sunshine,” he clarified.
Sirius nodded and watched the passersby. There were a fair number of foreigners due to the city's rather prestigious university and he and Malfoy hardly looked out of place.
“You cut your hair,” Malfoy remarked.
Sirius startled a bit, they'd been quiet for so long. “The Swedes required it. Long hair is apparently for hippies and criminals.” His hair was cropped short now with a continental part that swept a few strands down over his forehead. It was a smart-looking cut and now that he'd become accustomed to it he could admit that it made him look more professional, if a bit older.
Malfoy laughed. “One for two then.” He looked at Sirius critically and frowned. “Shame,” he decided after a moment. Sirius' face felt warm. Malfoy thankfully didn't notice as he paid the check. “I was thinking about the Minorite Church. Most of the staff are wizards and they've agreed to share the basement level.”
“For what?” Sirius said, feeling as if he'd missed part of the conversation.
Malfoy looked at him askance. “For your Animagus lessons. I figure we'll need more space than mine and Lupin's tiny flat allows.”
“Good thinking,” was all Sirius said. He didn't like thinking of Malfoy and Moony living together. He immediately felt guilty for the uncharitable thought. Remus had lost his wife and Sirius was begrudging him the one bit of happiness he'd managed.
“It's close enough that we can walk if you're ready.”
Sirius nodded and they set off. It was a nice day for the middle of August, not too warm or too cool and Sirius found himself comfortable in the light jacket he was wearing. He stared at the scattered capsicum fruits as they walked and he kicked a few with the toe of his boot. Malfoy was true to his word and he was standing outside a truly impressive cathedral before he 'd even found his preferred pace. Malfoy conversed with one of the men at the door in rapid-fire Hungarian and moments later they were led downstairs by an attractive woman that barely came up to Sirius' shoulder.
The underground level was just as striking as the cavernous entryway had been and Sirius found himself staring at the intricate, gold leaf designs with something like reverence. Finally they branched off and stepped inside a smaller, but by no means claustrophobic, room that could have fit Grimmauld Place inside of it at least five times over. Malfoy said something to the woman at the door and she left them with a slight curtsey.
All along the walls were windows that had been charmed to reflect the sky outside and artificial light fell into the room in slats. Sirius could see particles of dust dancing in the slanted rays. Underneath the windows were mosaic paintings. They had been done in strong bursts of color that added to the gripping warmth of the room. He tipped his head back and stared up at the high ceiling, lines of filigree outlining every outcropping.
“How did you find this place?” Sirius heard himself ask.
“Lupin and I took a tour of the city when we first came to Szeged. I kept coming back here.” Malfoy was staring up into the vaulted ceiling as well. “It's not just the beauty but also the feel of it. The magic here swells and rocks like waves.”
Sirius nodded agreeably. Malfoy was right. The room had a lazy Saturday afternoon sort of feel to it. It reminded Sirius of sitting out by the Hogwarts' lake with Remus and James while the giant squid's tentacles lolled in the shallows, swaying with the water.
Sirius shook himself, realizing belatedly that he was staring at the pale column of Malfoy's throat. “So, becoming an Animagus.” Malfoy's attention snapped back to him. “There's a lot of theory involved which I understand you've been reading up on?” Malfoy nodded. “But there's also a physical and mental component to it. It's about finding what's inside of you and animating it.” He found himself grinning, easing back into the playful teasing they'd had between them at Grimmauld. “So what do you think it'll be?”
Malfoy's lips quirked to the side, a smile hiding under the expression. “Hopefully something that's not ostentatious and big as a bear like some people I know. I'm looking for discreet.”
Sirius rolled his eyes and reminded him, “You don't get to choose your animal, Malfoy.”
“Still,” Malfoy put in with a snobby inflection to his voice, “I'm sure I'll be something dainty and alluring. And quick. And intelligent. And powerful. Like a Snidget.”
Sirius perked a dark brow. “You want to be a Snidget?”
Malfoy knocked him flat on his back with a quick hex while Sirius laughed. Malfoy helped Sirius to his feet once he'd composed himself and motioned for him to take center stage. The first lesson was painfully unproductive and Sirius could tell Malfoy was unaccustomed to not getting something right away and his frustration was nearly palpable.
The next few lessons followed the same pattern and Malfoy had no problem laying the blame for it at Sirius' feet. He also seemed to have no shame over the positive tantrums he threw. As his frustration grew, so did the amount of name-calling and accusatory finger pointing. Sirius found the whole thing rather amusing.
And if he was reliving that night in Norway far more than he should then that only meant that he needed to get laid. And soon. It was getting more and more difficult to stay in the same flat as Malfoy and Moony, to share their meals and sleep in the room next to theirs. As time wore on, his attraction to Malfoy was getting to be a real effort to ignore.
At the start of September, he finally snapped and put a crack in the table after seeing Malfoy and Remus share their customary goodnight kiss with a bit more tongue than usual. Malfoy hadn't seemed to notice and he went off to the bedroom he shared with Moony without a care. Sirius hadn't gotten as lucky with Remus. And this wasn't another exploded glass that he could pass off as a strong grip.
Remus placed his cup of tea down on the side table. He pulled his wand out of his robe's lining and tapped the split wood twice. “Do be careful. That is mahogany,” Remus said reprovingly. The rent pieces of coffee table carefully stitched back together and the crack sealed itself. Remus cleared his throat and leaned back in his seat. “You're wound awfully tight,” he observed.
“Malfoy and I fucked last year.” No use beating around the bush. Still, he hadn't meant to throw that out there quite so bluntly.
“Ah,” was all Remus said. He was the picture of infinite patience.
Sirius scrubbed at his hair, making it look as untidy as James'. “And I've been thinking about it more than I should,” he admitted.
“You still want him,” Remus hazarded.
Sirius gave a shake of his head that became a nod about halfway through. He wasn't sure if he still wanted Malfoy or if he wanted him for the first time. He made himself ask, “How serious are you?”
Remus drummed out a staccato rhythm with his fingers on the arm of his chair. “He's hardly the love of my life if that's what you mean,” he said carefully. “It's more about the comfort and companionship of being with him.” He stared at Sirius steadily as the man hung his head between his knees and fisted his hair. It had obviously cost him quite a lot to admit what he had. Remus took a fortifying breath. “I have no problem with it should you decide to approach him. But it's his decision.”
Sirius' head popped up at seeing Remus' unflinching expression. He swallowed and said hoarsely, “I'll keep that in mind.”
With Remus' blessing, Sirius tried to grab his Gryffindor bravery by the short hairs but he found it impossible to broach the subject with Malfoy. Every time he tried, Malfoy would mention something he'd shared with Lupin or Sirius would linger on Malfoy's age or their consanguinity and his guilt would choke him up. A week after his talk with Remus, during one of his and Malfoy's training sessions, he grabbed Malfoy up by the small of his back, shoved him against the wall and forced his tongue down the boy's throat.
Malfoy was far more than cooperative and Sirius discovered that finally getting to look at Malfoy properly naked was well worth the wait.
- - - - -
Sirius had completely forgotten the brilliance that was fucking Malfoy and he made it his mission to never forget again.
Still, even on nights when he fucked Malfoy into the mattress, the boy would slip out of bed while Sirius was asleep and end up back in Remus' arms before sunrise. Sirius tried not to let that bother him and instead held onto the fact that he could make Malfoy scream.
His physical attraction to Malfoy was being sated and he shouldn't need anything more than that. He could more than handle the little twinge in his chest he felt when he saw Moony and Malfoy together in exchange for getting to throw him down on any flat service he pleased and have his way with him.
“Almost as big as a bear,” Sirius teased as Malfoy stood panting in the middle of their training room. He hadn't quite accomplished a full transformation but Sirius could tell, whatever his Animagus form was, it was quite a bit bigger than a Snidget.
“Shut up,” Malfoy ordered, smacking him in the arm. “It is not.”
Sirius held his hand up parallel to the ground at about nipple height. “At least up to here.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up.”
Sirius grabbed him around the middle. “You still haven't managed to complete it. I bet it turns out to be an Erumpent.”
“I hate you.”
Sirius pressed his lips to Malfoy's quickly. Malfoy bit Sirius' lower lip between his teeth and didn't let go. “Mmm, I hate you too,” Sirius murmured against his mouth. They didn't get any further with Malfoy's transformation that afternoon.
Eventually Malfoy fell asleep on the floor of the practice room while Sirius watched the rise and fall of his chest and stroked his hair back from his face.
- - - - -
Sirius knew something wasn't right when he returned from his afternoon at Dömötör Tower. It was probably his years in prison that had honed his senses to the point where he could simply feel when things were off. It was how he'd always known when the dementors would come. After a while in Azkaban you didn't feel the cold to warn you anymore. A sick slither would crawl its way up his spine and leave him weak and shaking. He felt that now in the empty flat. There was something sinister about its stillness. The more time that passed without any word from Malfoy or Remus, the more certain Sirius became that they wouldn't be back.
At half two, something scratched up against the door. Sirius shot up from where he'd been sitting and staring at the kitchen table and tore it open. Malfoy and Remus all but fell inside. Malfoy had Moony around the middle, an arm thrown over his shoulders as he supported the both of them.
“What the hell happened?” Sirius barked, turning accusatory eyes on Malfoy.
“Help me get him to the bedroom,” was Malfoy's only answer.
Sirius pulled Remus' other arm up around his neck and helped Malfoy to carry him to the bed. Malfoy went off, mumbling something about warm water and Sirius settled Remus back against the pillows. His lip was dribbling blood and half his weathered face was bruised. Sirius eased him out of his robes and he could see now that the man's leg was mangled and there was a large gash that spanned his side, front and back. Remus' bloodied mouth curved into a slick smile. “The werewolves are not forgiving.”
Sirius started to move down the bed to Remus' leg when Remus grabbed his sleeve and tugged. He coughed and then managed, “Be kind to him, Sirius. He doesn't handle things like this well.”
“Things like this?” Sirius parroted, covering Remus' hand with his own in a show of solidarity.
“The threat of losing someone he loves,” Remus forced out. Sirius felt the words like a shot to his chest. Remus' gritted teeth were blood-covered. “He'll shut down if you let him,” he wheezed.
Sirius swallowed and nodded. He left to find Malfoy. The sink in the kitchen was overflowing and Malfoy was staring at the running faucet without really seeing it. His hands were splayed on either end of the basin and his hair was lank around his drawn face. Sirius snapped his fingers in front of the boy's face. Malfoy blinked and shook his head. “Go. I'll take care of this. Call Poppy.”
Malfoy seemed surprised by the mess but he nodded gamely, his face ashen. He walked away like he was moving through a fog. Sirius heard the Floo flare a moment later as he turned off the faucet and spelled away the mini flood Malfoy had caused.
Poppy came quickly and she stitched Remus up as best she could but he still spent the next three days unconscious. Sirius found Malfoy out in the sitting room on the fourth. A book was open in his lap and he was staring blankly into the empty grate. Malfoy still hadn't managed to set foot inside Moony's room since the night they'd carried him into it. He'd been falling asleep on the couch instead and Sirius would carry him to bed when the time came.
“Are you all right?” Sirius asked as he settled into the rocking chair across from Malfoy.
Malfoy's smile was grim. “Don't I look it?”
Sirius watched him for a long moment before he stood up, stopped in front of Malfoy and brushed the limp hair back from his face. It was still wet and wavy from his shower. “You can handle this. You've handled worse.” He caught Malfoy's eyes and he knew then that Malfoy understood him. His hand dropped down to press against Malfoy's ribs. “It's a shame it scarred.”
Malfoy's lips quirked. “No worse than Potter's curse.”
“He wants to see you,” Sirius told him softly. He knew Malfoy was trying to change the subject, provoke him into defending his godson and normally it would have worked, but Sirius had to say this. Because Remus had asked him to.
Malfoy's chin fell, his damp hair falling into his face. “I can't,” he croaked.
Sirius knew he wouldn't get any more from him that night. All he could do was walk away and carry Malfoy in to bed when it got late enough.
That night when Sirius rolled over and spread his hand out across the sheets no warm body was waiting for him. His first thought was that he was in with Remus but that proved untrue. He eventually found Malfoy out in the back garden, laying with his hands behind his head in the grass and staring up at the stars.
It was early enough that the dew was already sprinkled on the blades of grass and Sirius' back got damp as he lay at Malfoy's side. “Did you manage to go in today?”
“Didn't even open the door.”
“Well done.”
“I thought you'd be proud.”
They didn't talk much more that night, just watched the stars twinkle and argued over whose constellation was better before lapsing into a companionable silence. It didn't take long for Sirius to realize that Malfoy had fallen asleep again and he resumed his resident duty of carting Malfoy off to bed.
The longer Malfoy went without seeing Remus, the more he seemed to cling to Sirius. Sirius didn't know if that was Malfoy's way of guarding him so he didn't go off and get himself nearly killed too or if he was simply lonelier without Remus around. He knew which he preferred.
Soon they were spending not only every day together, but every night too and their relationship had gone from superficial to one of the most deep and meaningful of Sirius' life. They talked about everything and there was nothing too taboo or too infantile.
Malfoy was lying out in the grass again, Sirius at his side as he so often was, when he asked, “Do you think magic comes from the soul? That Muggles are lesser evolved forms of wizards?”
Sirius had heard the theory more than once from some of the more mainstream pureblood families. They used that logic to hide all manner of sins they committed against Muggles. Sirius scoffed. “Magic is in the brain. We've accessed a greater range of it than most are able to, that's all. As for why that is, there's the mystery.”
Malfoy rolled over onto his side and dug his elbow into the dirt so he could prop his head up on his hand. “What do you think?”
Sirius shrugged. “I think some people's destinies are louder than others. I think magic is how they accomplish them.”
Malfoy frowned. He flopped onto his back again and decided, “My destiny seemed a bit evil, didn't it? But not even proper evil, more like childishly disruptive.”
Sirius sniggered before he added earnestly, “Who's to say your destiny's even come about yet?”
- - - - -
Sirius returned from the market with an armload of groceries and he was surprised to find that Malfoy wasn't waiting in the kitchen for him. When he'd finally gotten everything in its proper place and Malfoy still hadn't greeted him, he decided to go off in search of him. Sirius couldn't find him in any of his usual spots and he figured he must've gone off on his own somewhere. Shrugging his shoulders, he set off down the hall, wondering if he might bound out into the backyard and give Snuffles some exercise when he passed Remus' door. It was open a crack, which was unusual.
Sirius peeked inside and saw Malfoy leaning over Remus, one hand resting on the side of Remus' face and the other caught in his grip. “Hey,” Malfoy said in a soft, warm voice Sirius had never heard him use before, “not dead yet then?”
Remus smiled up at him and it made his whole face look more youthful. “You're here,” he said in a low voice, as though afraid to spook him.
Malfoy's eyes crinkled. “About as surprising as the whole 'not dead' thing, eh?”
Remus chuckled. His eyes were bright with that laughter. “I know how you handle any sort of unpleasantness.”
Malfoy fingered a strand of Remus' thinning hair. “I may have gotten a pep talk or ten.”
Remus' smile deepened and he said softly, “Tell Sirius I said thank you.”
Sirius pulled back as Malfoy leaned down. Something inside him broke as he watched their easy intimacy and he suffocated the pain of it in a deep and fervent denial. That night when Malfoy came to bed, Sirius fucked him so hard that Malfoy passed out when he came. Sirius stayed awake next to him, biting at his own swollen lips.
- - - - -
Malfoy went back to splitting his time between them evenly and Sirius was having a hard time adjusting to the loss of him. Especially as Malfoy seemed so unbothered by it. They no longer had those moments where it seemed like they were the only two people in the universe. Sirius shuddered at his own thoughts. Somewhere along the way, he had let himself become grotesquely attached to a snobby little rich boy.
“What is your problem, Black?” Malfoy carped at him as Sirius became more and more belligerent as time carried on, snapping at Malfoy in the practice room during the day and fucking him with unapologetic roughness each night. He was beginning to realize that he didn't really think of Malfoy as that snobby little rich boy anymore and he missed the certainty he'd felt then.
“I don't have a problem, Malfoy,” he retorted just as viciously.
Malfoy refused to speak to him for the rest of the night and just as the flat settled into that quiet that spoke to the bedding down of its inhabitants, Remus shuffled out into the sitting room and took the seat next to him. “You shouldn't be out of bed,” Sirius chastised crossly.
Remus nodded as though in agreement. He was wrapped up in a crocheted blanket that would do nothing to keep him warm and Sirius felt himself grow that much more irritated. He indicated Sirius' untouched cup of tea and Sirius shrugged helplessly. Remus took a grateful sip and smacked his lips. He relaxed into his seat as it swept through him. He dampened his lips and said carefully, “Last time you were this upset it was because you'd been suppressing your attraction to Draco.” Remus smiled evenly. “I know that's not the issue now.”
Sirius stiffened. “I'm not upset.”
“You broke my lamp,” Remus pointed out. Sirius flushed. Malfoy had been fluffing Remus' pillow and laughing about some amusing encounter he'd had on the Tisza riverbank - a story he hadn't felt the need to share with Sirius. In the next instant, the bulb in Remus' reading lamp had sparked and all but exploded. Malfoy and Remus had instantly turned around and caught him in the doorway before he could scuttle off.
“That was an accident,” Sirius muttered mulishly, hunkering down in his chair.
“Sirius,” Remus admonished and Sirius scowled at him. Remus held up a hand and relented with a put upon sigh, “Fine, we won't discuss it.”
Sirius gave a sharp nod of his head and the two of them sat in the most uncomfortable silence they'd ever shared until Remus got up and joined Malfoy in bed.
Sirius broke the fireplace poker in half.
Even Harry seemed to notice something was off. And he was hardly as subtle about it as Remus had been. “Jesus, Sirius, what crawled up your arse and died?” he blurted out after Sirius' bad mood showed no signs of lifting.
“I'm fine,” Sirius gritted out.
“Like hell,” Harry retorted.
“Drop it, Harry. I mean it.”
Harry seemed to hear the undertone of danger and he backed down with a huffy, “Fine.”
- - - - -
“It's almost there, isn't it?” Malfoy was saying a little breathlessly as he came out of the half-transformation. “I just can't seem to hold it long enough to--”
“Be with me.”
Malfoy froze. “What?”
“I want you to myself. You're not in love with Remus,” Sirius said defiantly, jutting out his chin, half-afraid that Malfoy would contradict him.
“No, I'm not,” Malfoy agreed cautiously. Sirius let out the breath he'd been holding. “But he's good for me. He's stable and settled.”
“I can be those things,” Sirius said confidently. He slid Malfoy's hand into his own. “Obviously we already get on well,” he tried, grinning a bit.
Malfoy's hand slipped away and Sirius' tentative grin went with it. “And that's all there is to us,” he continued in that same careful tone. “But I'm not asking for more either,” he added quickly to head off Sirius' ready retort. The corners of his mouth turned down. “You're still stuck in your early twenties mentally and why shouldn't you be? Those years were stolen from you.”
Sirius' hands clenched into fists. “Then I'm the perfect match for you, aren't I?” he said angrily. His voice was shaking and he tried to calm himself.
Malfoy offered him a weak smile. “I feel a hundred. The war fast-forwarded things. Somehow you avoided that. I almost envy you that. But it means we're on different sides of things now.” Malfoy swallowed and didn't quite meet his eyes. “You're immature, and the only thing that seems to be driving you is seeking out anything and everything that feels good, and that's fine for a bit of fun but it doesn't make for a relationship.”
“Oh,” was all Sirius could bring himself to say. He'd agonized over this moment for weeks, planning what he'd say and fantasizing about how Malfoy would respond. The reality of it left him torn between anger and a gaping depression.
He hadn't realized that Malfoy cared about things like that. And why should it concern him anyway, Sirius thought angrily. So what it he was still the Order's go-to for the 'certain death' assignments? He'd bested them every time and he enjoyed the thrill of it besides. Why should he have to apologize for that?
“You don't want something serious now,” Malfoy told him and Sirius tried to believe that, to take heart in how certain Malfoy sounded about how he felt. “Live up your twenties, Black. Drink too much, stay out too late and sleep around.”
- - - - -
Liestal was just as charming as Sirius remembered and the house he'd made his home was still happily vacant as though it had been awaiting his return. He spent his days tearing through the backwoods as Snuffles, running until his legs felt like jelly and panting as though he'd never catch his breath again.
At night he would go out to the local pubs, pick up a blond boy, bring him home and call him by the wrong name.
Soon he was drinking more than was healthy just like his father, sleeping late into the day and staying awake until the sun's first rays were breaking in through his window. None of it brought him any solace. But at least he was doing as Malfoy had told him to.
- - - - -
At the tail end of October, an elf owl delivered a letter from Malfoy about his first successful transformation. He all but ordered Sirius back to Szeged to see it for himself. He'd cleverly refused to tell him what type of animal he'd become, knowing Sirius' curiosity would get the better of him before long.
Sirius Apparated just outside the Minorite. Malfoy was waiting for him when he reached their practice room, a huge smile on his face and Sirius felt as if the air had been punched out of his lungs. Malfoy said the spell and slowly he started to turn.
Sirius let out a breath and approached Malfoy carefully. He stroked a hand down a strong side, the wings lifting a little so he could feel the pelt beneath it. “I've never known them to be this light,” Sirius said softly as the Granian brayed.
All Granians were grey but this one's pelt seemed to shine almost silver when the light hit it. The winged horse tossed its head and Sirius grinned. He lifted the head with his hand under the horse's chin and stared into what were unmistakable grey eyes. “I'm proud of you, Draco.”
The horse melted back into Malfoy and his chest heaved as he caught his breath. “Sirius,” he said, his tone rich with emotion.
Sirius cleared his throat and tried to steer them back into safer waters. “I told you it wasn't small.”
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Practical though,” he pointed out, “with the wings and all.” He sat down cross-legged on the floor and frowned. “I've animated what's inside me into a horse. What does that say about me?”
Sirius barked out a laugh. “Not a horse. A Granian. It's much more distinguished.”
“That is true,” Malfoy agreed stoutly. He fell back onto the floor and stared up at the ceiling. Sirius lay down next to him so their shoulders were touching and neither of them said anything for a long time.
It was getting dark when Sirius broke the moment. “I think I'm done with my twenties,” he said starkly.
Malfoy stirred next to him with a sad sigh. “Sirius,” he started softly. Sirius didn't let him finish.
“I love you.”
Malfoy's eyes were sad and his only response was a slow shake of his head.
- - - - -
Harry, Ron and Hermione showed up at the start of December to recruit him for a trip to Lanzhou that sounded as dangerous as it was inconvenient. Sirius held up his hands to show the knitting needles and yarn that had somehow gotten knotted around his fingers. “I'm clearly very busy,” he pointed out, trying - unsuccessfully - to shake the string loose from his hands.
For some reason, Harry and his friends had decided to stay and watch him as he attempted to get on with his jumper. Harry was sprawled out in the armchair across from him and he looked unimpressed with Sirius' newfound hobby. He still seemed grinnier than usual despite that. “Are you attempting to turn that ball of yarn into a less organized, more tangled ball of yarn?” he asked after he'd watched Sirius throw down and pick up the knitting needles on no less than three occasions.
“This is supposed to be cathartic,” Sirius growled in frustration as he tried to pull out the massive knot he'd somehow gotten in one of the rows.
Harry perked a doubtful eyebrow. “How's that working out for you?”
Sirius shot him a dark look.
“What's with the sudden need for catharsis anyway?” When Sirius didn't answer right away, he added, “And the colors?”
Sirius huddled down in his seat, trying to hide the green and silver threads. “Nothing behind it,” he said evasively.
“Right, mate,” Ron put in. He was lounging on Sirius' couch, looking boneless. He thrust a purposeful finger up in the air. “People take up knitting every day.”
Sirius nodded distractedly. “Exactly.”
“You know,” Hermione started tentatively, leaning over from the chair next to his. She pointed at the tangled mess of mismatched and uneven stitching. “I do know a good spell for that.” Harry chuckled and muttered something about 'house-elf hats' while Ron sniggered. Hermione shot them a quelling look before explaining the charm that would straighten out his stitches and keep the yarn from splitting as it seemed intent on doing. Sirius listened intently while Hermione explained the wand movements in elaborate detail.
- - - - -
“I'm coming, I'm coming,” Draco grumbled as he made his way to the door where the annoying, successive pounding was emanating from.
Draco tore open the door and blinked into the brightness. “Potter?” he squawked in disbelief.
Potter rubbed the back of his neck. “Er, sort of forgot about the time difference, Malfoy.” Draco squinted, trying to help his eyes to adjust, and Potter cleared his throat. “Remus told me you're the one to thank for Sirius,” he said, sticking out his hand.
Draco didn't even notice it. His eyes narrowed and he asked suspiciously, “What about Sirius?”
Potter offered him a tentative sort of smile and lowered his outstretched hand to brush off imaginary dirt from the thigh of his trousers. “I honestly didn't think he'd live to see my nineteenth birthday the way he was going. I know if anyone deserved to move at triple speed it was him but he was going to drive himself into the ground the pace he was at, picking all the most dangerous missions, never content to sit still for even a moment.” Draco pulled his robe closed and crossed his arms over his chest. Potter shrugged. “I guess I wanted to thank you for slowing him down.”
Draco's brow furrowed. “What are you on about?”
“You,” Potter reiterated. “Suddenly it's like he doesn't need to do everything on fast-forward because whatever he had with you was enough living to make up for all that life that he'd lost. I mean, forget the fact that you're related which is just… “ Potter shuddered and hurried on at Draco's dark look, “And it's kind of… nice.”
Draco had no idea what to say to that. Luckily Potter wasn't finished yet anyway.
“I don't know why you've split but I do know that he cares about you, Malfoy. Really cares.” Potter looked up at him earnestly and gave a one-armed shrug. “Maybe you could think about forgiving him for whatever he's done and letting him have another chance? I know he'd rather go back to Azkaban than muck it up again.”
Draco opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again but no words came and Potter shifted anxiously on his step.
“Well, er, that's all I wanted to say, Malfoy,” Potter said finally, adding, “I'll see you around,” before he Disapparated with a crack.
Draco closed the door and stood staring at the wood for a long, quiet moment.
At least until Remus called smugly from the bedroom, “Told you so!”
- - - - -
Two days before Christmas, Sirius sent off the tangled mess of stringy yarn to Draco with a note tucked into the poor stitching.
Draco,
I knitted you a jumper. Well, a scarf. It was meant to be a jumper but knitting has not turned out to be my strong suit. Hopefully it'll do the job of keeping you warm regardless.
Love,
Sirius
The next morning, Sirius opened his door to find Malfoy standing on his stairs. A green and silver mass of knotted and snarled yarn was wrapped around his neck. It looked like a horde of fuzzy, deformed pygmy puffs were trying to strangle him.
Sirius couldn't help but feel buoyed by the sight.
“Merry Christmas, Black,” Malfoy said with an infectious little grin. Sirius just stared at him, biting his lower lip to keep from reacting to the sight of him. “So Lupin and I are finished,” he added casually, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders hunched up.
Sirius closed the door carefully behind himself. “You're wearing the scarf,” he said slowly.
Malfoy placed his hand over a length of it. “I am,” he agreed. “Though you're being very liberal with the definition of 'scarf'.” Sirius couldn't hold back his grin any longer and he grabbed Malfoy around the waist and kissed him dizzy before either of them could ruin the moment with any more talking.
He wasn't quite sure if he'd grown up enough for Malfoy or if Malfoy had grown down for him but he suspected they might have met somewhere in the middle.