Heavenly Waters||Sirius Black

Chapter 36

{{longer update—hopefully it all makes sense. We're getting to the good stuff now!!!!}}

When Gwen was a child, her mom always said she was a good sleeper.

She was religious about naps, dead set when it came to her bed time. She needed sleep, needed to rest so that she could spend long days playing in the sand and swimming with her mother. And when her mother died, sleep became torturous.

It took time to rely on that rest again, but once she did she was back to the same old routine. Just that this time, her naps were spent in red arm chairs or on the lap of a boy with dark hair and smoke filled eyes. Her bedtime was filled with soft touches, kisses that turned her soul to an endless sky, and the promise that when she would wake that same boy would be sleeping on his side of her bed.

She used to be a good sleeper. She used to not need any help closing her eyes. She used to not be addicted to the chase of that rest, one as good as a nap after a long day in the sun or a night spent curled into a broad chest.

Gwen's skin itches when she stares at the long staircase before her. She was going to be late if she wasn't careful. She hadn't taken a potion early this morning, and the hours without it were beginning to weigh on her. She wasn't sure what had convinced her. Maybe it was the way Remus gently held her hand under the table at breakfast this morning, squeezing just enough to relieve her aching joints and her broken heart. He had smiled, whispered tentatively, "I'm awfully glad we're friends, Gwenyth."

Merlin, it had taken her straight back to the day she'd told him that he could be whoever he needed to be, whoever he wanted to be, and she would love him just the same. He could love who he wanted to love, and she would be there to listen and maybe even meddle in his love life. He'd said the same words to her then. They seemed to mean more now.

It might just be the unspoken apology she'd accepted from him, the friendship that they were both determined to hang onto despite every argument. Or it could have been that Harry had shared that he had seen the Grim. He had seen Sirius. That had nurtured the seed of hope within her chest enough for her to take half a potion the night before instead of two despite how painful the days had been. She wanted to rest. But maybe she was hurting herself. Maybe the potions were putting a bandage over a bleeding wound.

There was one other reason she was tapering off the use of her new favorite drug.

"Severus,"

The Potions Professor falters on the last step before her, dark eyes sweeping over her face before he sneers, "Professor Whitlock. Forgive me, but I'm unable to brew Lupin's potions as well as yours—"

"That won't be necessary any longer," Her voice wobbles when she says it. Even now, with last night's potion still cloying her heart and mind, it's growing harder to picture rest without it. But she knew it had to be done. She had to be done, "I'm sleeping quite well without it actually."

"Is that so," He drawls, eyes narrowing slightly. Gwen blinks, pressing her dry lips together. She clasps her hands together to prevent the shaking from getting worse.

"I'm not sure why you're so eager to ply me with potions, Severus," She smiles as his eyes turn to slits, "But I'm sure I'll learn in time."

"You asked me to brew you—"

"And you continued to when you shouldn't have."

His mouth clamps shut, nostrils flaring. Gwen tips her head to the side as she muses mockingly, "Don't tell me you've come to care for me, Severus."

He seethes silently before her, Gwen's eyes lingering on his beady ones for a long moment before she says, "I'm sorry I haven't dreamed of Lily yet. I suspect my mind is quite easy to infiltrate with Legilimency when I've consumed enough sleeping draught. Did you find what you're looking for?"