ink - sirius black

pillowfights and stolen kisses

hey guys - i just want to say that i literally do not read on wattpad. tons of people can attest to this. so if anything bears resemblance to another fic, then it is purely coincidental. there are dozens of commonly used headcannons, and no one has specific rights over those. i am not a person to copy from another fic, and i take great pride in my writing, so i know how shitty it would feel if someone copied me. on that note, enjoy!

March 7, 1977
7:56 pm
Great Hall

In the days after the cloak was 'stolen,' Sirius and Anneliese had landed on the silently unanimous decision that they weren't going to talk about what happened on the shore of the Black Lake.

Neither of them wanted to address their sudden pulling away from one another, although they were both secretly longing to know what had happened to the other to provoke the identical reactions.

They had worn the same expression of panic and breathlessness in those few moments, the one that made their hearts race and eyes go wide with concern of whatever had just inhabited their body that so clearly didn't belong.

Now that they were removed from the situation and looked at it in retrospect, they both minimized it to the stress of N.E.W.T.s and keeping their relationship hidden.

Nothing more significant than that, Anneliese told herself as she took a bite of a dinner roll. Don't overthink things, that's what Leo would tell you.

But still, every time that Callaway looked at Black now when he was against her skin, she just was reminded of that blurry and grey night.

It wasn't the gut wrenching sensation she had felt for the first time on the shore. No, now it had evolved into something much more subtle that was like a disease slowly seeping through her veins.

Just another sign to ignore.

Anneliese had never felt this way at Ilvermorny before, but she was pretty sure that it was just because she had never been as physically close to someone so often in America like she was to Sirius here.

She hadn't let it happen back there, but Black had broken right through that defense as easily as a rock through glass just like so many others she put up around herself.

The side of her body built to protect itself hadn't needed to come out as much until now, not until Sirius and her had gotten to this point.

Once it had been woken, though, Anneliese knew there wasn't much she could do to stop it until one of them pointed it out to the other. But the silent voice nagging in the back of her mind didn't ever relax fully.

Callaway was fighting against it for Sirius as much as she could.

In turn, whenever Black looked at Anneliese, he couldn't help but see echoes of his family in her.

Not that in any way Callaway was even a shred similar to the cruel, merciless Blacks. She had her dark moments, quite a lot of them, yes.

But never anything nearly as heartless as the torture they had put Sirius through.

No, this was because he didn't want to disappoint her. There was no way he could live with himself if he somehow managed to fuck things up so bad that they wouldn't talk anymore. Not some sort of petty argument, but deeply, truly messing things up.

Every glance was a beautiful reminder of how much he cared for Anneliese.

But it was also a reminder of what he could lose.

"SIRIUS!" James shouted for the eighth time in a row, snapping in front of his best mate's face. "We are trying to have a genuine discussion about the Anneliese Is Part Veela Theory, and you're just zoning out!"