One Step Ahead part I | Sirius Black

Chapter 149

{{I hope you enjoy :) this one made my heart happy}}

Gwen stares calmly at the table before her, the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner soothing her rather than distracting her.

It reminded her of the Ravenclaw tower.

Her lips twitch slightly, gaze slowly lifting to the eyes hidden behind spectacles before her. James Potter's hair never fails to stick out like feathers from the nests in the owlery at Hogwarts. Charming. Nearly as charming as the constipated look on his face.

The Veela quirks a brow at her friend, face unchanging as he moves his pawn. Her pale eyes move back down to the black and white pieces of the chessboard, her attempts at fighting a laugh barely futile as she says flatly,

"Check."

"Bullocks!" James cries, springing to his feet and nearly knocking Fleamont Potter off his nearby stool. The older wizard sighs and flattens out his now crumpled up magazine, his introduction to a new addition known as The Quibbler. He'd been quite confused when Gwenyth had handed it to him.

The Veela sighs and replies simply, "Try again, love."

Sirius' head suddenly whips around the corner of the doorway, grey eyes narrowed and flour dusting his cheeks. He points a spoon at Gwen and warns playfully, "I heard that, Inferi."

"Sorry, Snuffles," Gwen teases, her cheeks warming slightly when his chuckle follows him back to the kitchen. She turns back to James, looking up at him as he hovers over the board. He searches for any possible move, eyes moving a mile a minute like he's looking for the snitch at a quidditch match.

James finally scowls, still scouring the board for a magic way to win when he grumbles, "Love, you've bested me again. Should know better than to play chess with a seer."

Gwen hides her smile at the affectionate nickname that Sirius likes to pretend to be mad at. She knew better. Her eyebrows raise when James settles down in front of her again, eyes narrowed behind wire framed lenses.

A beat of silence passes before he asks rapidly, "What number am I thinking of?"

"7."

Fleamont laughs when his son's jaw drops, eyes round and wide as he begs, "Teach me your ways, tiny being."

Gwen blinks, tilting her head slightly before retorting, "It's your jersey number, James."

He snorts and waves her off, muttering, "nevermind, don't teach me. It makes me seem stupid."

"You are a Gryffindor."

Both of the Potter men gasp in horror at the house slander, Fleamont scolding, "Gwenyth, for the love of Merlin don't speak like that in my house."

Gwen can't stifle her laughter, her mirth uncontainable at the sight of James and his nearly identical father looking so offended. She hadn't celebrated Easter since her mum died. She couldn't even feel guilty that this was certainly the best one yet.

Gwen stands and apologies flatly, "Sorry, Monty. Care for a riddle?"

James squawks quickly, "Don't do it, Dad! We'll look even more stupid!"

Gwen just shrugs and ruffles James' hair before wandering to the kitchen. Her smile refuses to fade, an impossible task when Sirius and Lily are playfully squabbling while making treacle tarts. They don't notice the Veela, but Euphemia Potter does.

The older witch merely walks over and hands her a glass of wine, both standing and observing silently. Mia breaks the silence first, glancing down at the peculiar girl she'd come to be quite fond of. Her voice is quiet as she says, "Thank you."

Gwen doesn't ask. The emotion in Mia's voice tells her what she needs to know. A thank you. For caring for Sirius when he couldn't care for himself. For seeing past the scars and parental damage that had chewed him up and spit him out and tried to turn him against this world.

Gwen just smiles and says simply in return,

"Thank you, Mia."

Mia smiles warmly, suddenly convinced that James was right and that this veela had to be a seer of some sort. That only Gwenyth Whitlock could know what someone is feeling, and share in that feeling just the same with no fuss or exaggerated outward displays of emotion.

The two witches look up to where Sirius is helping Lily place the tart in the oven, playful elbows and shoves shared between the two Gryffindors. Gwen's eyes linger on the deep blue color of his button down shirt, her heart fluttering and lips twitching. Blue looked quite good on him.

Sirius glances up like he knows she's thinking about him, eyes darting back and forth between the witch he knows to be his mother, and the being he knows to be his future wife. His eyes narrow and he accuses, "What are you two doing?"

"Nothing," Gwen and Mia say in unison, sharing the same grin. Sirius looks at Gwen exasperatedly, saying with a sigh, "Mum, do not help Ninnie with her mind tricks for the love of Godric."

"No mind tricks today, mon rêve," Gwen replies with mirth in her voice. Mia hides a knowing smile behind her glass of wine when Sirius softens, his smirk turning into a gentle smile as he walks over to his girl.

Gwen quirks a brow when he grabs her glass from her, expecting him to take a drink. Instead he sets it down on the table before grabbing her arms and guiding them up around his neck. Her cheeks flush, embarrassed by the affection he's so blatantly showing in front of Mia. Embarrassed and secretly thrilled.

He grins slightly, pecking her cheek and murmuring so only she can hear, "I like doing this with you."

Her brow furrows slightly, for once confused by his musings. She tilts her head back and looks up at him, asking curiously, "Doing what?"

Sirius smiles ruefully, a flash of pain flaring in his grey eyes before he admits, "Being a family. I don't think I've ever had one like this before."

He brushes back some of her hair, aware that Mia is certainly listening. Gwen doesn't seem to mind, that much is apparent when she says plainly, "I don't think I have either...but I quite like it too."

Sirius' eyebrows raise in surprise, his boyish grin turning excited as he asks, "Yeah?"

He sees her and her shield of wit even more now, sees that her past experience with family maybe wasn't that different from his. Because even though she had a mum, one that loved her so much she would die for her, she had only ever had one person. Until now.

His forehead leans against hers as she replies quietly, "Of course. Think we could do this every year?"

Sirius wishes he was more like her, wishes he could hide his emotions a little bit better. But the love and happiness and joy at her words can't be held in, not when she's standing in the Potter's kitchen and saying things that make him picture the future that they'll have together.

Gwen smiles at his rosy cheeks, her own face flushing when he replies softly, "Of course, mon chaton. Every year."

"Good. Though maybe next year we could shag after—"

Sirius clamps a hand over her mouth, wincing at her blunt affect and glancing over at Mia Potter. The witch seems far more amused, maybe because of how embarrassed Sirius is when he says hurriedly, "Don't listen to her, Mum! I'm saving myself for marriage!"

Mia snorts, rolling her eyes and replying, "Please, Sirius. Perhaps take a lesson from Gwen and practice honesty."

He gapes at the witch, glancing back and forth between her and the Veela he's silencing with his palm, disturbed by the nonchalant look on his girl's face. He sighs, muttering, "You're going to give me grey hair, Whitlock."

Gwen, her mouth still sealed shut to prevent her from saying anything else that is too crass, just shrugs.

Sirius smiles down at her, pleased to note that he can tell that her lips are quirked up too.

Just by looking at the crinkles around her pale eyes.