Push and Pull (Sirius Black X Reader)

1978: The Injury

Sweat beads above my left eyebrow, slowly sliding down my forehead. I weave between witches and wizards, mumbling apologies beneath my breath, trying my best to keep my footing on the bumpy cobblestones below. Everyone is going home for the night. I'm just leaving.

The sky is darkening, and I'm late—so fucking late.

"I'm sorry, excuse me," I say for what must be the thousandth time, dodging between a balding wizard and a tall witch.

And then I see him. Leaned against one of the brick shops, legs crossed casually before him, staring down at his watch. I jog over to him as I wipe sweat from my face, panting all the while.

"Lunar chart says the moon rises at 8:17 tonight," Sirius says, eyes still on his watch. "And she comes moseying along at 8:14." He looks up at me as the smile crosses his mouth, and he pushes off the wall and offers me his arm.

"There's too many people out. I didn't want to apparate on top of someone," I gripe and set my hand in the crook of his arm, the feel of his subtle musculature steadying beneath my fingers. "Why are there so many people out?"

"There was live music at the pub," Sirius says and begins leading the both of us through the crowd. My blood drains from my face at his words. Live music... The crowd parts around him without him having to do anything but exist. He continues: "Quite good. I went."

"Without me?" I ask, feigning offense as I recover from the initial shock.

"You're right," he says with a small smile. "I should have invited you."

My cheeks flush. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. I meant to be there, but then I woke up at eight, and—"

"It's fine," he says. "You don't have to apologize. I was just worried is all."

I squeeze his arm in gratitude. I've been sleeping through plans pretty consistently since I got a new job at the Ministry. The starting salary isn't much, so I'm still waiting on tables at the Three Broomsticks after my shift. I go into the first job early in the morning, and then I go straight to the other, and I don't get home until around midnight. Even then, I often lie down to go to sleep and my brain refuses to shut off, and as I'm drifting off, I'm still working until something jolts me back awake. So when I finally do get a day off, I'm burnt out enough that I sometimes sleep the entire day away no matter what plans I have. Sirius knows, and he's been very understanding. Others haven't. I get it though. No one likes to be stood up.

"Well, well, well." James is waiting beside the Shrieking Shack, arms crossed over his chest. "Look who decided to show up. Thought me and Peter were doing this ourselves. Didn't we think that, Peter?"

"I knew you would come," Peter says.

"You going to stand out here running your trap then?" Sirius asks and reaches with a swift hand, unhooking one side of James' glasses from his ear. They dangle off his face, and he catches them, pushing them back in place.

"Nothing you do can get me down," James sings. "Want to know why?"

"Because you're a tosser?" Sirius guesses.

"Because I proposed and Lily said yes," James says with a wide smile. "That's right. That's right." He sketches a bow.

"Congratulations," Sirius says. "Send the lady my sincerest apologies."

"What for?"

"Having to spend the rest of her life with you."

"Congrats, James," I say and pull him into a hug. The affronted expression on his face melts away as he hugs me back.