"I was just having a chat." Sirius Black defended teasingly as he was pushed onto a stool at their lab. "Ow, touchy, touchy."
It was stupid. And a little mean. Sirius was at least a little aware of that fact. But, it was also really entertaining watching Bartemius Crouch Jr's face change from suave to entirely lost. He wasn't exactly sure why he did it; he knew something had compelled him though. Knowing Freya Grey was spending her time drinking champagne and rubbing elbows with people like Bartemius, slithering her way into their favor, had caused an itch that could not be fixed— in fact it grew legs and walked him straight into his dorms liquor stash and dragged Peter Pettigrew along with a playful grin. By the time, he reached the corridor outside the party, the fire-whiskey had managed to distract him enough that he was certain he'd just be strolling around till Flitch caught them. Then, he saw them, laughing and smiling in that posh way all the purebloods were supposed to. It happened in an instant, he began moving and he was vaguely aware she would be mad, but he was certain that he had to do it.
Now, the moment had passed and he was less certain about things. However, he was certain that he liked Freya's hair more when it was in its curly state rather than the sleeked way she currently wore it. It moved like silk down her back as she bustled through the lab, but it didn't match her eyes to him... if that made any sense (Sirius was now certain he was going mad).
"I know, you are not that drunk, if at all." Freya pulled something from one of the cabinets and set it on the space next to him. "What did you do? Swirl whiskey in your mouth and let it sit."
"Whiskey?" Peter questioned hopefully from his place on the floor across the room.
A snort left Freya as she shook two liquids together and then loaded them into a syringe. "Peter was a nice touch, I'll give you that." Without an ounce of sensitivity, Freya flipped Sirius's arm face up.
Pinch between his brows, Sirius asked. "What are you doing?"
"Making sure you are completely sober."
Sharp pain bit into Sirius's arm and he curled his arm back.
Shock slammed through his body and his heart pounded in his chest. What was in that? It was like his body had been restarted. Blinking, he held his arm to his chest and stared at her like she was a mad woman. "Merlin, Freya."
"Why did you do that?" She searched his face.
Discomfort formed in his stomach, not an ounce of delirium left in his body, and he shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. "It was a joke."
"No, it was not." Mind spinning, she could not believe he was actually trying that. More importantly, she could not believe he would embarrass her like that. "You know it was not. You are not a child."
"It was a little funny."
"It was humiliating."
"So, what?" He got a little heated at this. "Why do you care so much?"
"Not everyone can afford to be the rebellious prince." She matched his heat with coldness and then crossed her arms. "And, those people are far better company than you."
"I really doubt that." He scoffed.
For a moment, she was quiet, trying to pull for threads that weren't there. "Is this because of the Wolfsbane? The galleons? Was this a form of payback?"
"No." He seemed almost offended she asked that.
"Then what?" She pressed.
"I don't know!"
Shaking her head, she took a step back. "No, not good enough." He does not get to ruin her reputation— her future because he felt like it; it couldn't have been random. "Why tonight? Why then?" Something flickered in her head. "Does this have something to do with your obsession with Barty?"
Bitterness formed in his throat. "Not everything is about your precious Barty."
"Oh, please, you speak of him more than I do." She snapped, arms crossed and Sirius pressed his lips together. "Come on, what was it? Did he steal your silver spoon as a child? Tear your favorite cashmere?"
Sirius leaned on his knees, face hot with emotion. "You don't know him."
"And you do?"
"Yes." He locked eyes with her. "I know the whole bloody lot of them."
She let out a scoff. "Because you spend so much time with all of them."
"They've been coming to dinner parties at my house since before I was born." He reasoned, and she dropped her chin. "They're not good people, love."
"And what gave you the right to draw that line?" Her anger was boiling under her skin; she was not stupid. She knew there were some old ideals prevalent in high society and thought they were rather ridiculous. But, Sirius hadn't spoken to these people in years, what did he know? Not all of them were as backward as everyone painted them, Regulus was closer to a saint than she ever would be, and he was bred in that society. Simply because they didn't flaunt their hatred and morals with an upturned nose and gold and red colors did not mean they were bad.
A strange expression landed on his face, a mix between a sad smile and amusement as he eyed her. "You're brilliant, but naive." Sickness festered in his skin as he thought of all those dark robes and cheers at the table when families had been slaughtered. His mother's ring cutting through his cheek caused him to wince. "You would have been making a mistake gaining their favor."
"And it was my mistake to make." The Slytherin's voice rose as she met his gaze, again.
"This isn't wearing purple and orange, Freya; these people, they're like... poison."
Stubbornly, she shook her head. "You had no right to intervene."
"I was protecting you." Frustration filtered through his words and he clenched his hands into fists to hold back his emotion.
"That is not your job." She did not hold back. The sentence snapped through the air like a whip. Sirius held his breath in his chest. Inhaling through her nose, she felt foolish. How could she have let herself into this position? He was right; she was naive, not for befriending Barty, but for trusting Sirius, letting him hear her thoughts, spending her days with him, for wishing nights lasted an hour longer. She was foolish. Shoulders straightening, she held on to one of the counters as she stared at the floor. "There is only one thing that connects us and that is Wolfsbane. Any other obligation is negated. Do you understand me?"
"I was just trying to--"
"Do you understand me?" Her eyes cut into him, and he could see the tears she refused to let fall in them.
Softly, he said. "Yes."
"Good." She was in charge, she was in control of herself. She was not naive. Casting a glance over the room, she kept her voice smooth. "Send James for tomorrow and get both yourselves cleaned up." With the slam of the door, Freya left the room.
Jaw clenched, Sirius pulled at his hair. What was wrong with him—
"Blaargh!"
Sirius's head snapped to the corner where Peter was and found his friend's head halfway into a cauldron. His body shook as he vomited loudly. Ew. The grey-eyed boy walked over to him, then knelt next to him.
After a moment, the dirty blond lifted his head and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. "Sorry." The smell hit Sirius like a ton of bricks. Maybe giving his friend the whole bottle was a bit more than stupid. A remorseful expression crossed Peter's face. "I didn't want to interrupt you two. She's scary when she's mad."
"I know, mate." Sirius rubbed Peter's back and then Peter missed the bucket entirely; warm chunks covered Sirius's shoes.
"I'm sorry," Peter mumbled as he finished.
For a moment, Sirius thought he might scream, then he looked at Peter's face and managed a pressed smile. "It's okay." Carefully, he ushered them both to their feet without getting more vomit on them. "Come on, let's get us cleaned up."
A/N: I've rewatched Heartstopper six times and I'm gonna go in for a seventh.