Black Blood | S. BLACK

08.

SIRIUS BLACK WAS not even the slightest bit afraid as they walked through the dark forest. To her utter shame she was the one wetting herself. Sirius was walking around as if he owned the place.

Augusta tried her very best to muster up some courage- to pretend that she was fine when in reality she felt like she would melt into a puddle. She wanted to curse him and his Gryffindor name.

Only his voice brought her comfort. He spoke calmly, gently, but the subject he had chosen was not something she would have preferred. He talked relentlessly about werewolves.

"It's also a very old illness, no none truly knows when or how the first werewolf came to be—"

"Can we please talk about something else?" Augusta asked, looking around nervously and feeling a shiver creep up on her. "Especially since we're here."

He nodded, understandingly, but did not stop. "It's a werewolf's natural instinct to attack humans," he commented, lowly, "but when not in wolf-form they can be one of the kindest people you'll ever meet- people who wouldn't even hurt a fly."

She frowned. Why was he getting so defensive? He kept talking about how werewolves were good. As far as she was concerned: They were monsters. Turning her gaze up towards the sky, she could glimpse the moon that peeked through bone-like branches. It was almost full.

"I guess," she said, averting her gaze back towards her feet. "But still... that doesn't change the fact that they are bloody-thirsty in their wolf forms."

Sirius paused, startling her. When she stopped to turn and meet his gaze his eyes were cold, and his voice stern. "That's not their fault." He said.

Silence. It lasted for a while.

"Alright," Augusta found herself saying after a moment passed, breathless, "yeah. It's not their fault."

Then, as if he hadn't just stood there as cold as frost moments ago, he grinned widely and continued walking. She stood dumbstruck for only a few seconds before jogging to meet his pace. His silver eyes were gleaming in the darkness. She wanted to get closer to him.

What was it about Sirius Black that was so charming?

No, it wasn't his attractive smile or low voice- and no, it wasn't his sense of style or bright, grey eyes. There was something else. Something Augusta couldn't quite find out.

Something she would get to the bottom of.

It was obvious that she needed to work through the thick shield Sirius had forged for himself. Although he was generally friendly and confident, casually communicative and social, Augusta had yet met the true man behind the mask. It made her envious of those who knew him, and competitive.

She wanted to crack open the shell. To see the person he was beneath.

"What's your next move?" She asked, looking up to meet his gaze.

He raised a fine brow, perfectly arched. "My next move?"

"Yes," She said, stopping so that he would halt as well. For a moment she forgot they were standing in the middle of the Forbidden Forest during midnight, with the haunting moonlight washing over their two forms. The snow around them made everything more mysterious than it was; giving off an aura of deep, old magic.

But she wasn't afraid, not anymore. The fear within her had strangely dissolved into something that rarely came to her. Courage. She could only see him, and he was looking at nothing but her.

He smiled at her. It was perfect, with those porcelain-capped teeth. She felt like slipping. "Why?"

She didn't know whether she wanted to push him over or have him smile again. "Isn't it obvious?" She said instead, "I want to help."