One Step Ahead Part II | Sirius Black

Chapter 205

Gwen was rather pleased that Sirius didn't want to stay at Grimmauld place.

She had grown awfully fond of the Potter's and enjoyed the mattress in the guest room. When someone wasn't pushing her off of it.

She frowns at the tiny sliver of bed that she's positioned on, Sirius stretched out like a bloody starfish next to her. He hadn't slept well through the night, dreams leaving him distressed and uncomfortable. He'd only really settled in after dawn was beginning to break. She couldn't disturb him now.

She sighs, resigned to the fact that he would be the one to sleep in today. She begins to crawl out of the bed, pausing when his hand suddenly snaps up and tangles in her shirt. He smacks his lips together, eyes barely opening as he asks groggily, "Where are you going?"

Gwen smiles faintly at the thick urgency of his voice, hesitating before climbing back into the bed and snuggling into his open arms. Sirius lets out a pleased sigh, squeezing his arms around her and mumbling lowly in her ear, "Sorry about last night."

She shakes her head, stroking back some of his hair as his cheek comes to rest above her heart. Merlin, her heart. She wasn't sure how much more it could take. Her eyes study the way her ink colored lashes dust his cheeks, the strength of his brow and the gentle curve of his lips. Her poor heart flutters some more at the scruff dusting his cheeks, making him look older. More severe. It was sexy, in more ways than one.

Gwen rubs her thumb over his forehead, smoothing out the wrinkle from frowning throughout the night. His lips twitch into a sleepy smile that she has to try her hardest not to kiss. Her fingertips graze his cheek, his jaw, the Adam's apple of his throat. He lets out a hum of obvious contentment, slurring something she doesn't quite understand as he relaxes. When she's convinced he's gone back to his dream plane, she slowly extricates herself from his warm hold.

Hurriedly tugging on pants and shuffling out of the room, she tiptoes down the stairs to avoid waking anyone else. She's initially convinced that she's the first person awake, but stops short just outside of the living room.

She watches silently as Mia Potter gently rubs her husbands back, his tall and scrawny frame hunched over with his head in his hands. His body shakes with a stifled cough, Mia saying softly, "I hated it too. One more drink, love."

Fleamont mumbles something Gwen can't hear, something that makes Mia laugh hard enough that she leans over to stifle the noise in her husband's sweater. Gwen wants to let the warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest wash over the rest of her body. But her mind refuses, too focused on the way Fleamont's hand shakes as he tips back what seems to be a potion.

"I find that firewhiskey makes an excellent chaser."

The older couple jumps, faces contorting into expressions of shock as they quickly look up at the sound of Gwen's voice. The Veela stands silently, unblinking as she looks at the Potters. Fleamont clears his throat, wide-eyed behind his spectacles. Mia smiles, a wobbly one that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Firewhiskey? As a chaser?" The witch questions, the blonde being's words finally registering. Gwen smiles and nods, replying nostalgically, "Yes, a woman I stayed with after my mother died introduced me to it. A chaser for potions. I didn't stay with her very long. She had a rather nasty temper."

Mia's smile turns into a frown, her eyes widening slightly. Just when they thought they knew Gwen, they realized they'd barely scratched the surface. She didn't talk about her childhood much. Fleamont quirks a brow, opening his mouth to ask for clarification. Gwen speaks before he can, gracefully taking a seat in one of their chairs. She crosses her legs at the ankle as she wonders, "I'm going to assume the potion you're taking isn't for good luck?"