BETTY, sirius black

sad, beautiful, tragic love affair

"You didn't notice anything wrong with how he just showed up?" Lily asked, walking back to her sister, standing behind the counter to face her. "First off, James wouldn't have told him where we were. He's far too...James to do that, and second, going out on an isolated beach with some random? Seems a little weird if you ask me — "

"It's fine, Lily." Saiorse sighed, rolling her eyes as she set her book beneath the counter top. "I'm sure that Ren is not going to axe murder us with Rory as his accomplice."

"It's not that, it's just — " Lily began, but cut herself off with a sigh. "His intentions just don't seem that...pure."

"Psh, have you seen him?" Saiorse scoffed, placing a hand on her hip. "Honestly, I wouldn't even mind if his intentions were that pure or not."

Lily slapped her sister's arm with a small grin. "You know that's not what I mean."

"Lily. A hot, blonde, graduated Ravenclaw asked us to go a beach with him and his brother." Saiorse reiterated. "Quite literally marriage material if you're to look back on my past conquests, if you will."

"You really do always go for blondes." Lily nodded, pursing her lips as Saiorse threw her hands up.

"I'm just sayin'."

Lily grinned, wrapping her arm around her sister's shoulders, sighing as her eyes roamed to the calendar. Her smile dimmed as she skimmed over the date, her arm almost tightening around Saiorse's shoulders protectively. She wrapped her other around Saiorse's waist, bringing her into a soft hug. "Are you gonna . . . do something for today?" She asked quietly, making Saiorse's shoulders slump.

"Probably watch some stupid muggle horror movie, like um, A Clockwork Orange or Psycho or something. Buy ice cream from Fortescue's, maybe?" She sighed, wrapping her arms around Lily. "Something to keep my mind busy."

Lily hummed, rubbing her sister's back as she let go. "I might have to take you up on that."

THERE was a drastic change in temperature as that smoldering day of June morphed into twilight. A cool, summer breeze blew past Saiorse Evans, who had been walking the dimly lit sidewalk of Diagon Alley, sending a chill up her arms, even if they were covered in a forest green turtleneck. She was planning on stopping by the Diagon Alley Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor for a gallon of half-baked, but she was a bit sidetracked.

In her hands sat a bouquet from Floriblunder's Florist, filled to the brim with yellow roses, enchanted to never wilt. Saiorse didn't know what had compelled her to buy the small bundle of flowers, but she did anyways.

As she stepped down the halfway empty cobblestone street, she began to hum the familiar tune of Vienna ( courtesy of Billy Joel ) her eyes leading to the dimly lit pub that stood between the owl emporium and the closed record stall she had been a patron to that Christmas. The girl grinned, crossing the street to the wooden door that contained the soft rock music from the jukebox in the corner of the room.

It was a neat little place; all the walls were banked with record covers ranging from Jimi Hendrix to Led Zeppelin, filled with the alluring aroma of cinnamon and firewhiskey. Saiorse recognized a couple of wizards and witches in her year who were sat at the bar and at the wooden tables scattered about the room, soft conversations about the next school year and the new Bowie and Fleetwood Mac albums that had came out that summer. ( Rumors and Low, to be exact. ) The lights were turned to a comfortable, warm hue that reminded Saiorse of autumn nights where you're curled up underneath a woolen blanket, your hand wrapped around a warm cup of blueberry hibiscus tea with sugar, a piece by Jane Austen or Sylvia Plath clutched in your other hand while a soft classical record played in the background.