GOOD DOG || Sirius Black

(Fifty Three: Out of the Fire)

The guard's smile soured. He looked up and down her Hulk onesie pointedly, "And that's the new uniform is it?"

"If you can work it." Alex spun in place.

"What's with the muggle thing?" He indicated her gun.

"I'm blending in. Undercover work in America." Alex answered competently, "And putting muggle-sympathising animals out of their misery in a fitting way."

"Hal," One of the other guards said, "That's Alex Fawley. Pureblood. I heard the old boss talking about her. Pivotal, he said."

"Is that right?" The first guard- Hal- was obviously not too pleased with the reveal of this information, though he had no choice but to step aside. Alex would be lying if she said the picture of his moustache bristling as he was forced to open the door for her and, at her instruction, close it behind her again didn't fill her with a sense of vindication.

And there was Sirius Black.

He was gagged, his hands tied behind his back by silvery rope. His hair was greasy and distinctly un-Sirius. It needed a good wash. This in turn made Alex realise just how much effort Sirius Black must have put into his dark locks every day to make them look the way they did. Her mouth quirked up at the corner involuntarily.

"Hi." She said.

Sirius' reaction to her had not been quite what she anticipated. His eyes bugged out, locked on the gun in her hand, and he was struggling against the restraints, muffled vulgarisms barely audible behind the gag.

"Okay." Alex continued haltingly. It was fair to say her sense of trepidation was far more advanced than it had been when confronted with a hall of murderers, "I'm going to take the cloth out of your mouth now."

And she did.

"... Fucking hell. They really got you." Sirius immediately launched into a tirade, "A fucking puppet. Killing me, now? Go fucking ahead. Try it. I've got a skull made out of adamantium."

Alex could barely hold back a glance towards the door, where she had no doubt the guards were leaning against the metal, listening in, "Black-"

"That's a superhero metal." Sirius spat at her, "Which I know because Alex liked them and she told me."

She really needed him to shut up now, "Black-"

"And you probably know as well because you went through her fucking head like a diary." Sirius glared at her, "You're sick, and..."

He kept rambling. Alex turned her eyes to the cement ceiling, as if asking for help. Eventually, having decided there was no other alternative to the option her mind suggested, she muttered, "I'll try not to enjoy this."

And then she punched him in the face.

"Ow!" Black yelped, staring at her.

Alex knelt down in front of him, pleading for his attention with her eyes. His real attention, the way he used to look at her, like she was real, like she was this brilliant thing that no one else had discovered, and he wasn't entirely sure what it was yet, but he was totally okay with never finding out.

"Black, look at me. Look." She whispered desperately, letting herself break into a smile, "I'm scared."

"You're..?" He stopped, searching her face. She watched as he found her, actually her, hiding in her own eyes. She watched as the realisation dawned and he began to laugh, slow and relieved, and dropped his head onto her shoulder, where the vibrations of his laughter echoed through her body too.

In any other story, in any other world, it wouldn't make sense.

But Alex Fawley had never laid claim to another world. Not when this one hadn't given up everything she wanted yet. And Sirius Black had never asked for another story. Not when his had given him so much, his friends, his concept of morality, a seat at Gryffindor table.