jemina // sirius black

prologue

We were ten years old. Sitting under a blanket fort in the dining room. It was extremely early on Christmas morning, and our parents were still asleep. 

The four of us had a deal - James and I would not wake them up until it was at least 7 am, in exchange for whatever breakfast we asked for. This year, we couldn't decide between pancakes and breakfast BLTs with eggs. James wanted the BLTs, and I wanted pancakes - as literally always. 

We were bickering in quiet voices over which one would be better, giggling ferociously at one another. James claimed that since he was older, he should get to choose. I reminded him that he had chosen for the last four years, since we started the agreement. He claimed that I never opposed his choices, but that we had pancakes more often than we didn't. 

I claimed that I had never opposed because he never let me. At that age, I followed James like a puppy. Everything he did, I had to do too. I listened to him more than I listened to my mum. He was my big brother, and my leader. It wasn't until our birthday that year that I started to become my own person. I became bossier, more courageous. I relied on James less, and I was stronger alone than James was. We would always be stronger together, but if we were separated, I could survive better than James could've. 

It never truly occurred to me how much James relied on me. 

But, we were ten years old. Sitting under our best-yet blanket fort strung across the dining room chairs. The table had been moved into the kitchen, a feat that I was little help during. James was twice my size, and much taller than me even then. We didn't know it then, but one of us had used magic to move the table, as there was no way James, a scrawny ten year old, could have lifted it, with or without my help.

We eventually settled on asking our father to make me pancakes and make James an egg BLT. Secretly, I knew that James would hate the BLT. He didn't even like tomatoes or eggs, but he was a stubborn boy that seemed to not have any knowledge of what a BLT was aside from the B. 

So, we continued to wait for the clock to strike 7. We'd give them ten minutes more, then wake them. James and I were incredibly excited, it was Christmas after all. 

My favorite holiday was always Christmas, and for the first twelve years of our lives, James agreed. His then became Halloween, primarily due to the festivities at our school. We were both pranksters at heart, but James loved it in a much deeper way than I did. I preferred to plan them, James loved to enact and take credit for them. 

We began to talk about what we hoped we had gotten. Our answers ranged from realistic things, like an over-sized yo-yo, or a new book (guess who wanted which), to much more unrealistic things like a horse and a flying car. 

Later in life, it would turn out that I would end up with both of those unrealistic things.

James said that even if he got nothing he wanted, he would be happy to have me. I rolled my eyes at him then, as James was always the cheese-y cliche older brother who was overprotective and incredibly loving. He was always a softy to and for me, but he was a tough-guy to everyone else. 

He said he was serious, "You're all I will ever need. The best gift Mummy and Daddy ever gave me was you. I know I always tell Mum that I think you're gross, because you're a girl, but you're not. You are pretty cool. You're my best friend, Jem, and you always will be. I don't want to lose you, so I'll try to be nicer... as long as you stay out of my stuff."

"I love you too, Jamie."

"Stop calling me Jamie!"

The sound of birds woke me, and I immediately felt drowned in an endless pit of pain. I rolled onto my side, drawing my knees to my chest and clutching my stomach. I tried, so hard, to hold back the tears that screamed to be let out. 

I could barely hear the sound of the sheets rustling as I held my breath, my eyes stinging, and the sound of my heart racing filling my ears as if I was underwater. I felt the ghost-like touch of a hand on the center of my back.

"You had another dream about James, didn't you?"

Hearing his name, spoken aloud, in the real world, broke every resolve I had. It wasn't long before I was quietly sobbing. The hand moved to my shoulder, then across my torso, pulling my back against the body behind me. I was held tightly, apologies mumbled in my ear as I cried. 

My soul hurt, more and more the longer that I went without James. Every time I dreamed of him, every time I remembered he was dead... it hurt more and more. My twin brother was gone and there was nothing I could ever do to bring him back. It had been nine years, and I still couldn't think about him without feeling like my heart was going to explode. 

The only thing that grounded me was thinking of Lily. 

It felt backwards, being brought to excruciating pain by the thought of my dead twin brother, but being brought back to the surface, back to reality, by the thought of my dead best friend. 

Her death was extremely painful, she was the closest thing to a sister I had ever known, and I loved her so much. I just knew, in my soul, that she would kill me if I cried over her the way I did James. I knew he was angry with me for still being this heartbroken after nine years, but I knew he understood. He was everything to me, and I will always love him more than anything. 

Slowly, my sobs began to diminish. My mind began to clear, and I could clearly hear his voice in my ear, apologizing for the pain. Apologizing for not being able to ease it, to help me when I missed him. 

And, oh, how I missed him. I missed them all, more than I thought physically possible. 

His stupid laugh, her radiant smile, the rough texture of his hands on my waist... his tiny little fingers. There was not a single thing I did not miss about them. Nine years without four of the most important people to me was nine years too long. 

"I'm sorry," I mumbled as I turned to look at him. His green eyes searched my bright red face, resting on my swollen eyes for a long moment. I tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace, "I know it must suck, being woken up like that."

"Never," He smiled softly, and I could tell he was trying to distract me from everyone I lost. We lost... "Waking up to you never sucks."

"Maybe, but I'm quite certain that you would prefer to be woken up without needing to immediately comfort your sobbing girlfriend."

"Is that what you are? My girlfriend?"

"If you want me to be," I felt the blush creep onto my face, burning my cheeks with a vengeance. I hadn't thought before I spoke, and part of me was glad I didn't because now that I am, all I can think about is him. Part of me regretted mentioning it, but another part of me was tired of waiting, "The girls love you, they always have... and I don't see why not."

"What about -?"

"He made his decision nine years ago, Remus. I can't keep waiting for what I know will never happen."

"Then yes, I would very much like you to be my girlfriend." 

He pressed his lips against mine, so very carefully. For that moment, I managed to forget about all of the pain, the loss, the heartbreak. I forgot about Sirius, how he could've fought, how I offered him that chance and he told me no. How my husband told me he would rather rot in jail for the rest of his life than look at my face every day. 

None of that was on my mind while my lips were touching his. The moment he pulled away, it came rushing back. The deep feeling of abandonment. 

It lasted until my door busted open, the sound of three girls simultaneously shouting at Remus and I to wake up. 

"It's Christmas!"