A/N: Lmao so 1978 has some of The Greatest™ music. Also the band I high-key made up is basically the wizard equivalent of
Souxsie Sioux and the Banshees, feat the Wizard version of David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust phase. Also, my personal
face-claim/headcanon for teen Sirius is Ezra Miller (though I do know the
fandom tends to swing towards my other, other, other bae; Ben Barnes). I have left reader!chan’s house ambiguous, so have fun imagining your wonderful self :)
Hope you all enjoy it, I haven’t written for Harry Potter in an age, and it’s been fun, I’d love to do more if you’d all like to send in requests for any fandom or character:)
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” You raised a brow, knowing exactly who it was who had just slid into the
seat opposite you. He was the only wizard who could possibly have the audacity
to be bothered to try and piss you off at this time of night and so close to
your final History of Magic exam.
“Yes, tis I, my love,” He winked rakishly the moment you
looked up, “I have come to rescue you from the unprofitable boredom that is
Professor Binns’ illegible notes and the tedium of handwriting.”
You continued to read, your eyes heavy with fatigue, “Merlins
pants, something tells me I’m here to
rescue you from the boredom that is
your only three friends actually studying their trouble-making asses off while
you fuck around for a bit.” You took the resounding silence as a yes.
“If you’re thinking this is the best way to impress a girl,
Black, you’re doing it all wrong.” You didn’t even bother to look up from your
revision notes for NEWTS. McGonagall was kind of right, but taking all these
subjects was a complete and utter mistake
of the nth degree. Rewarding, but it was making you want to throw yourself off
the astronomy tower.
“Who said I was trying to impress you?” Sirius Black
certainly had your attention now, tucking strands of long, jet hair behind an
ear with his usual devil-may-care grin. He leaned a little further, sliding his
arms down the heavy mahogany desk fingers brushing against yours as he tried to
distract you from your book and the heavy pile of re-readings beside you. “I
thought I did that in first year?”
“As I recall, you tripped down the moving stairs in first
year and required not only myself, but Lupin and Andie Black to pull you up from falling about seven floors.”
You quipped, once again staring down at the jumbled haze of parchment notes.
Not even colour-coding your notes with different quill inks were going to help
you remember the veritable troll hoard of content for History of Magic.
Someone needed to hold the Ministry of Magical Education to account for this.
essays, who the hell thought four essays in three hours was a feasible task?
Probably Binns, but he was dead anyway. No point murdering
“I thought I thoroughly bribed you to keep that event under
wraps, love?” He asked jokingly, nearly dropping your spare quill he’d been
“I don’t think an industrial-sized box of chocolate frogs
was enough to satiate a sadistic eleven-year-old me, Black.” You replied, a
little exasperated at his antics. Surely he had other girls to go and bother.
Marlene McKinnon was only a few bookshelves away, and she probably wouldn’t
mind. Or at least, not after that drunken rambling with some firewhiskey she’d
managed to smuggle in via an elaborate system of house elves and owls. That mental image of what she’d like to
do to both Lupin and Black wasn’t about to leave your mind anytime soon. As much
as you wished it to. If it could leave, that would be convenient. Even
prim-and-proper Amelia Bones found it amusing, and that certainly wasn’t
helping. Not when said subject of McKinnon’s pent-up frustration sat worryingly
close to you, resting a handsomely bored head on his hands.
You continued to read your notes and referring back to the
useless textbook with it’s varying historians. There was no getting rid of him,
was there? Admittedly, he did improve
the view of the usually dull library with his ridiculously good looks. Those
soft locks falling carelessly over his charismatic face and twinkling eyes and
Okay, you needed to calm down.
Well, not like it was possible with that heart rate, continuing to pick up faster and faster. You were
surprised he couldn’t hear your heart beating at a traitorously rapid pace.
The six-foot-something bastard actually pouted as he realised you wouldn’t be giving him all of your
attention. The last time the pair of you had been this close was the time
Slughorn decided to pair you two up for that disastrous attempt at veritaserum
at the start of sixth year. You were pretty certain that your robes still had a
five-inch hole still burned through the sleeves. To be fair that was kind of
you fault, getting distracted at Sirius as he drummed with some pencils against
your shared bench.
You eventually relaxed a little, deciding he wasn’t really
going to be bothering you that much. Besides, he may be able to act as a
paperweight or something. But you couldn’t help but hum that infernal tune
stuck in your head under your breath as you kept flicking through, trying to
find that little section on wizards in Communist Russia and their escape of the
“What?” Sirius’ head suddenly snapped up from where he had
been idly tracing patterns on the back of your hand, hair comically dishevelled
about his face.
“Oh, sorry, nervous habit.” You murmured sheepishly, not
daring to meet the frustratingly handsome bastard in the face. “Must get plenty
of nervous girls around you,”
“Yeah, but not nervous girls who somehow know my favourite
Antigone song-“ You widened your eyes at his excited interjection.
“You listen to Antigone?” The whisper barely passed soft
lips, eyes blown wide open in amazement. Sirius nodded enthusiastically,
grabbing both your hands in his own larger and much more calloused pair. You
guessed that scar was from either a particularly vicious fanged geranium or a
particularly vicious jilted lover. “You’ve actually listened to ‘Hexes and Whispers?’, but that’s…”
“Are you jinxing me right now?”
“No, I’m serious.” He replied with such a dead-pan face that
you couldn’t help but let go of an ungodly snort. So loud in fact, that Madam
Pince cleared her throat, staring down her nose and the candlelight glinting
off her harsh spectacles.
“But Hexes is a-“
You lowered your voice, still keeping the fast-paced and excited tone.
“A bonus track on the B-side of the record if you figure out
the magic word and tap it with your wand?” Sirius replied just as fast as you’d
asked, moving as close as he possibly could to you with a table in the way.
“What sort of Anti-gonner would I be if I didn’t? Do you listen to Merlin
“Yeah! Couse I do! What self-respecting kind of witch would
I be?” You replied, your mind thrown back to the giant poster of Spellman and
his brightly-coloured make-up in your bedroom, much to the chagrin if your
mother, as the poster strutted around his brightly-lit stage, throwing insults
at anyone younger than thirty. The pair of you continued to bounce back and
forth the names of bands, agreeing on every single one of them bar a couple.
Both of you could barely speak, staring blankly at each
other in a charged atmosphere. If you’d been informed about four hours ago that
Sirius Black had literally the exact
same taste in music, you’d have laughed. But this, this was new. Sure, you’d
exchanged polite words in classes, and it wasn’t as if you hated him, even if
he was beating you in both Transfiguration and Charms by half a fucking mark.
“Merlin’s beard, marry me.” He blurted out impulsively.
You paused for a beat, unsure of what the fuck just
“Do we look like Potter and Evans to you?” Was probably not
the best thing to reply with, considering that Sirius Black was not only the
most attractive male in your form but also swimming in galleons and most likely the best mate to the
most infuriatingly sickly-sweet couple in Hogwarts.
“Sorry,” He looked down sheepishly, pink dusting the tops of
hiss ridiculously chiselled cheekbones. You could cut yourself if you slapped
those. “That was,”
“Totally random, not necessarily unwanted, but definitely
random.” You answered quickly. “You free after History of Magic?”
“You about to ask me to Three Broomsticks for a firewhiskey,
love?” His cheeky mouth pulled into a delighted grin, eyes dancing with
“Depends on my date,” You quipped back, leaning forward on
your elbows, practically nose-to-nose.
“Well then,” He slid out of his chair, pushing hair back
away from his delighted face, performing a bow that his disgustingly aristocratic
mother must have drilled into him, “would
you accept this formal invitation to accompany Mr Black to the Three
Broomsticks for a frivolous afternoon of merry drinking and a night filled with
irritatingly loud music, drinking, dancing, elopement, candlelight, love and
animalistic love-making.” He extended his hand, taking yours and placing a
small kiss upon it.
“Mr Black, I heartily accept your invitation. I expect full
escort and fanfare the instance we finish this exam,” You found yourself
grinning silly, standing up and curtseying as you took his hand. Sirius in turn
laughed, sweeping his wand over the table as your study things flew into your
battered bag (it was only expected to last for another three exams). He wrapped
an enthusiastic arm around your shoulders, so unlike the suave idiot who often
paraded around the corridors besieged by fourth-years in the company of a much
more subdued and matured Potter.
“I shall simply trip over everyone in a valiant effort to
get to you,” He laughed, “but first, allow me to escort you around the castle
as we discuss our shared taste in music and profess our undying over beneath
moonlight.” You rolled your eyes, trying to stifle a giggle.
“Whatever you say, Black, but if we fail History of Magic
tomorrow; I’m blaming you.”
“I’m wounded,” He moaned in mock-horror, you laughed harder as he slumped against you dramatically, your knees buckling as the pair of you barely managed to leave the library without several reprimanding coughs from Madam Pince.
Hecate help you, you may or may not have just fallen in love
with the most wonderfully melodramatic wizard to have walked the earth.
aHR0cHM6Ly93d3cubWVkaWFmaXJlLmNvbS9maWxlLzZveTRrOWFnMjhydXVyei9NeVN0ZXJlb2dyYW0uanBn Do you remember?
Do you remember? Oh, the way it used to be Where we were two hearts on the run So young, so wild and free And we danced beneath the midnight moon Whoa, I took one look One look at you And I fell in love before I knew And the night stood still And like a breeze we moved cool and slow To the rhythm of the radio And I reached out for you and held you close And the night stood still