Harry Potter One Shots And Imagines II

Sirius Black- Nickname (a)

"Come on, everybody's got one and if you want to be apart of our fine establishment then you need to get one too."

Dread almost filled your heart, Sirius loomed over you, his hair brushing against the table and his hands resting upon it.

"You need a nickname; we've all got one and you can't be a marauder without it."

"Aren't you guys supposed to give me a nickname? That's how it works isn't it? If I give myself one then it wont be cringy or insulting like... like 'Padfoot' is." Sirius' jaw dropped, almost below his hands that now gripped onto the table with a tremendous might.

"Well quite clearly I came up with my own nickname."

"You came up with Padfoot?"

"Yes, I thought it up all by myself. Do you have a problem with that?" His scuffed knuckled turned whiter and whiter as he spoke.

"It's just kind of... edgy isn't it? You may as well have called yourself shadow dog, or night claw or something."

"Remus didn't like Night Claw." He let go of the table and looked towards the floor for just a small moment. "But at least I have one." He prodded his ringed finger into the centre of your chest.

"I don't have anything special about me to warrant a nickname." Sirius rubbed deeply rubbed his eyes and turned away from the table.

"Dude, we need something..." Before you could respond he had turned back around with one finger raised proudly in the air. "I have it!"

"I swear if this is some stupid ass idea..."

"Fuckface."

"Right that-" You went to leave your chair but he gently pushed you back in it.

"No hear me out. We'll call you Fuckface... because... you are being a Fuckface." He looked far too proud of himself given the idea he had just vomited up.

"And how do you think Remus would respond to the newest member of the gang being called Fuckface?"

"I think he will absolutely love it." Arrogantly he rested his hands on his hips and looked off smugly into the distance. "I promise, I swear. He will be fine with it." He spoke, clearly sensing the suspiciousness of your presence.

"He doesn't really strike me as the profane type... how can you be so sure?" Siruis helped you up from the chair, wrapped his arm around your shoulder and began to walk to you away from the bench.

"Oh don't worry, we call it him behind his back all the time and he hasn't said anything yet."

~*~

Written by Aaron.