Black as Night (Sirius Black)

Do You Believe in Magic?

Sirius had convinced Colleen to leave a key taped to the mat for him so he could get an early start roasting the chicken for their Wednesday dinner. He decided to dress a bit more comfortably this time, giving the Muggle jeans another shot along with a black t-shirt. It was more like the look he sported back when he and his fellow Marauders ran around Hogwarts, back when he had his old motorbike, back when things were easier and more carefree. He finally felt like he had a chance at recapturing that happiness again; he was even tossing around the idea of buying another bike. He had time to kill and money to spend, so why not?

As soon as he opened the door to the Gilmore flat, Sirius felt a warmth and a welcoming that he only ever remembered feeling at Hogwarts, and at the Potters' house when he ran away to live there at 16. Even with Colleen away at work, her touch was woven into everything around him— the paintings of the seashore, the soothing light blue walls, vases of flowers, candles all around. She had fluffy pillows on the sofa and textured placemats at the table, rugs beneath the furniture, and sunny curtains on the windows. It created a softness that Sirius just wanted to sink into. Such a stark contrast to the cold, dark cell of Azkaban and the haunted, dusty abandonment of Grimmauld Place. He was sure of two things; Robert Gilmore was a fucking blighter, and his wife deserved to be treated like a queen.

Sirius prepared the chicken for roasting with the fresh herbs they had purchased, then set the table and cleaned up a bit around the flat, using magic to ensure every inch was perfect. After making tea, he settled with the newspaper he'd picked up from the front mat upon entering. Buried a couple pages into the gossip rag was his own name again:

Sirius Black, Millionaire Playboy?
While he his official status is still "whereabouts unknown," the scoop around The London nightclub scene is that the handsome prison escapee of three years ago, now cleared of all charges, is back and living large. Sources have claimed to have spotted him out and about in the company of several beautiful women, dressed to the nines and enjoying the nightlife. One source even alleges seeing Black on a Sunday market run with the widow of famed prosecuting attorney Robert Gilmore, who recently perished in the Millennium Bridge attack. One of the women interviewed for this story says Black claims a large family fortune, enabling him to lead his new playboy lifestyle. More to be revealed as we confirm Sirius Black's presence and activities here in London.

"Merlin's fucking beard," Sirius muttered. He looked at the by-line— Teeny Hancock, with her column The Scoop. Aside from the obvious jabs he could make at her name, Sirius already loathed the woman. What kind of person had nothing better to do than try to publicly shame and ruin someone who was just trying to build their life back? He already worried about Colleen. She would want to crawl under the nearest rock and hide once she saw this, probably cutting things off with Sirius altogether. If that happened, Ms. Teeny Hancock was going to become quickly acquainted with several hexes that would prevent her from composing such drivel in the future.

It was approaching five when Sirius heard the key in the door. He had already managed to spill his tea on the offending paper, ensuring there was a likely explanation for when it was discovered in the garbage.

Ben bounded in the door first, stopping short when he saw Sirius on the sofa. He was a cute little bugger— light brown hair, freckled, with his mum's aquamarine eyes. He wore a shirt with an astronaut on the front, black sweatpants, and tiny little trainers on his feet. Colleen strode in behind him, giving Sirius a small smile and a nervous little wave. She had worn a beige dress to the office that day that was well-tailored and professional but still managed to show off every curve of her body. Sirius was jealous of the attorneys who got to ogle her all day. How this woman didn't know she was a knockout was beyond his comprehension.

"I'm Ben. What's your name?" The boy extended his hand to Sirius like a little grownup.

"Nice to meet you, little man. I'm Sirius."