Push and Pull (Sirius Black X Reader)

1976: The First Night

James and Sirius whisper furiously among themselves as Peter comes to my side. It's dark and dewy outside, the long blades of grass tipped with silver drops of rain, each illuminated with a tiny reflection of the moon, full and white.

"Nervous?" he murmurs from beside me, the hood of his cloak pulled to obscure the top half of his face.

"A little," I admit. "You?"

"Yeah," Peter says, scuffing his foot through the grass. "But we'll all have each other, though, and maybe Moony will be better in the morning now that we're all here."

"I hope so."

I do, really. It's always hurt to see him the day after his transformations. It's not just the scratches and the bites that litter his pale skin; it's the pain and the exhaustion that sits on his shoulders, weighing him down and smudging purple under his pretty green eyes. Whenever we visit him in the hospital wing, my heart aches as I take in his sorry state, watching him wince with every movement and seeing him all wrapped up in starchy bandages. But maybe things will change now. Hopefully.

"You two ready?" James asks, scrunching his nose to readjust his glasses.

"As we'll ever be," Peter says.

"If the worst-case scenario happens, we get out. Even if Moony seems like he's going to hurt himself, all right?" Sirius asks, uncharacteristically solemn.

We all nod in response, matching his grave expression.

"All right, Wormtail. You know the drill," James says and pats him on the back.

"Be careful," I add.

Peter nods his head and closes his eyes tight, and then he shrinks, barely visible in the grass. I can see the weeds sway as he carves a path through. James, Sirius, and I stand in an anxious cluster, our breath clouding together from our lips as we wait. And then, finally, the branches of the whomping willow still, the wood groaning as the limbs come to a stop. I can see James grin before he barrels in the direction of the secret passage, leaving Sirius and me behind.

"Come on," Sirius says. I follow closely after him, staring at the spot right between his shoulder blades, trying to calm my nerves.

He and I watch as Peter and James disappear into the passage, whispering excitedly; the plan is working so far. Sirius comes to a stop outside the passage and holds out a hand for me.

"Be careful; there's a step down."

"I can walk by myself," I say defensively.

"I know," he says. "But you don't have to." He still holds his hand out in front of him. I purse my lips and set my hand in his, setting my free hand against the side of the entrance to the passage as I step inside. It's pitch black inside—so dark I can't make out the shapes of James and Peter even though I can still hear their voices up ahead.

Sirius keeps ahold of my hand as he steps into the passage. When he makes to drop my hand, I grip onto his fingers, afraid to lose him in the dark. He squeezes my hand in return, silently assuring me that he isn't going to let go.

"You know," he says quietly, "I didn't discourage you from doing this because I thought you couldn't handle it. I just didn't want to see you hurt or anything. It's because I care about you."

"You care about the others and you never discouraged them," I whisper back, but I'm truthfully not all that upset anymore. Not now that I'm here. His opinion of me doesn't change what I'm capable of.

"Well, it's different."

I want to provoke him and ask if it's because I'm a girl even though I know it's not the reason. But I don't say anything, simply tightening my fingers around his.

The walk is relatively straight, but the ground is uneven, and there are a few sharp drops. A couple of times, I stumble over raised roots or rocks, and Sirius grips even tighter ahold of me, and a few times, he curses as his foot catches on something. Once, the passage narrows so much that we have to continue single file, and I grip the back of his jacket as we walk.

I don't know how long we walk before Sirius and I realize that Peter and James have gone completely silent. Sirius murmurs, "Don't know if we lost them and we should speed up or there's something wrong and we should stop."

"I don't know either."

Sirius sighs quietly and tightens his hold on my hand, pressing forward.

"You're so slow!" James exclaims out of nowhere, nearly driving me to have a heart attack. He casts a lumos charm, illuminating the passage, and I quickly drop Sirius' hand, my cheeks flushing.

"Jesus Christ, man," Sirius growls, fingers flexing at his side.

"Please, my friends call me James." A charismatic smile. "Come on, you two. Just because you're holding hands doesn't mean you have to walk like it's a stroll in the park. Me and Peter are holding hands and we're making good time, aren't we, Peter?"

From a bit ahead in the passage, Peter's voice echoes, "That's right!"

"Besides," James says, "I think we're far enough from the entrance that we're safe to use light now."

Sirius mutters something colorful under his breath and reaches into his jacket pocket to extract his wand, casting a lumos spell. James nods and says, "I think we're getting close," before he turns around and follows the passage back to Peter.

"Well," Sirius says, "at least we don't have to walk in the dark anymore."

I don't know why I preferred the dark. Maybe because it felt less like we were... us? Less tension, no arguments, no need to acknowledge or justify our intertwined fingers. Now everything's back to normal, and I can see the grey in his eyes and the cut of his jaw when he clenches it, the way he always seems either mildly irritated or exceedingly arrogant whenever we interact.

"Yeah, now you won't have to keep me from tripping over everything," I say.

"Thank God," he says and rolls his eyes. but at the same time, his fingers hook around mine.

"And now I won't have to trail you by scent alone," I say, sliding my hand into his. "Did you trip and fall into a bucket of your cologne, Starboy?"

"Ladies love my cologne," he says.

"Same type of person who likes to be choked," I say, "because why save the choking for the bedroom when you can choke on your man's cologne at any given time?"

We fall headfirst into an argument, pitting our wits against one another, our hands clasped together tightly, his thumb brushing featherlight over my knuckles, soothing me just as much as the familiar, slightly warm scent of his cologne.