What Connected Us All

Sirius

Dear Sirius Ignatius Black,

Your father, brother, and I are going to Aunt Lucreita's house for the Winter Holidays. An extended invitation to you would be inadvisable, because she has yet to lift your banishment charm after last year's incident with the Christmas angels.

Walburga

James reads the letter over Sirius's shoulder. He silently mouth's the words "Dear Sirius Ignatius Black" with something like disgust on his face.

"Well," he says with a shrug. "I suppose it's better than 'Dear Offspring'."

Sirius socks James in the arm. "Shut up. What's yours, then? 'Dear Sex God and Quidditch Extraordinaire'?"

"No." Lupin grins down at the paper he'd managed to snatch out of James's grasp. "It says 'Dear Jamesy-kins'."

"Thanks a lot, Moony," James glowers, a definite flush creeping up his neck.

"But you know Mum and Dad always love having you around for the Holidays, Padfoot - Can't imagine why, but they wish me to invite you."

Sirius doesn't answer at first. Then, "I think I'll have to pass you up on that offer. Number Twelve Grimauld Place might be enjoyable with the... right company."

James puts an arm around his friend, looking at the others in mock seriousness. "In other words, Sirius is ditching a few weeks at Potter Manor to shag Farren in every room of Number Twelve Grimauld Place."

They all laugh again, none louder than Peter.

"Watch it Prongs," he warns, but half-jokingly. Sirius has come to realize that Farren wouldn't have minded talk such as this. In fact, she'd probably find it thoroughly amusing. "But I don't know. Grimauld Place is quiet large. Every room would be a challenge."

"Is The Sirius Black backing down?" James taunts.

He smirks as only Sirius could. "Never."

"Very good. Oh and that does include Regulus's room, you know."

"What includes Regulus's room?" Farren asks as she sits beside him.

"Nothing, my dear." Sirius tries to kiss her on the cheek, but Farren leans away playfully.

"Good morning Evans," says James as Lily passes.

She doesn't falter in her stride as she spits, "Sod off."

"Now why do we have to start off like that?" James deliberately ignores the muffled snickers from Sirius, Farren, and Lupin.

Lily stops angrily. "Because even when I am that rude, you still don't get the message, Potter."

"Come on. Have a sit with us." And he gestures at the row of empty seats across the table.

She opens her mouth for an irritated retort, but stops short.

"Very well," Lilly says to the table's utter surprise, James most of all.

Is it Sirius's imagination or do her eyes flicker briefly toward Farren? An impetuous thought crosses his mind and he must suppress a smirk. Could his girlfriend be the source of Lilly Evans's on-going refusal of James and about every other boy at Hogwarts? He relishes the image.

There is a slightly awkward pause after the red headed joins the group.

"I've been meaning to ask you, Ren" Remus says, cutting through the silence. "Have you heard anything from Celia lately?"

Sirius knows why Lupin has such an interest in those affected by Voldemort and his allies. It is, of course, because his own life had been so altered due to one wrong turn with Fenrir Grey.

Farren answers, slightly confused by Remus's ongoing concern with her friend's progress.

Sirius would not tell her Remus's secret. He could divulge certain things, such as their animagus forms. But never their purpose. No matter how far their relationship went, no matter how deeply enamored he became with Farren Graham, he would never jeopardize his friendship for her. And he feels quite certain that Farren would have understood.

"What are you doing for the holidays," Sirius murmurs to her in a low voice.

She raises an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

"You are cordially invited to reside at the Black Family Mansion."

"And do Mamma and Papa Black know of my invitation?"

"Ha! An identified muggle-born in their house?" He shakes his head. "No, they don't know."

Farren grins in an aha-I've-caught-you sort of way. "So we'd be alone." And she leans in closer, whispering, "Is that why you have a stiffy right now?"

For a moment Sirius is shocked. But then he laughs, quickly regaining his composure. "You've caught me. But can I really be blamed? You are just so sexy, and beautiful, and..." He takes her hand from under the table and guides it in the general direction.

She permits this until the very last moment.

"Where were you last night?" she asks.

"What do you mean?" He cannot help but sound a little impatient. He attempts to inch her hand down further.

Farren doesn't budge. "I mean I snuck into the Boys Dormitory and the four of you weren't there. Where were you?"

Last night had been full moon. They'd been in the Shrieking Shack and at Hogsmeade with Moony.

Farren smiles at his silence. "You're keeping something from me. Withholding information means no sexual favors."

She stands.

"Ren you can't just leave me here," Sirius whispers pointedly.

Her smile turns viscous. "Watch me."

And he does. Sirius watches her saunter away in a self-satisfied air, noting how magnificently shaped her bum is.

XXXXX

Farren tiptoes up the stone steps.

"Knox" she says to the illuminated wand before turning the doorknob.

For a moment she is blinded by the sudden darkness of the room. But then light slowly reveals itself by means of the moon, stars, and shinning constellations.

Very carefully, she moves into the bed with the luscious brown hair peeking out of it, positioning herself so that she straddles him.

Sirius stirs, opening his eyes and looking blearily up at her. "What -"

Farren shushes him and clamps a small hand over his mouth. "I'm risking expulsion for you, Black"

He pulls her hand away and says in a much quieter voice, "I'm sorry. It's just a tad disconcerting to wake up with you on top of me."

"I felt bad about leaving you hanging this morning... No punt intended."

Sirius sits up, forcing her to lie back into his lap. "Liar. That pun was very intentional and it hurt."

Farren giggles. "I was only being facetious." Her eyes do that trick and appear cat-like and feral.

She touches his face. It is rough with 5 o'clock shadow. The first kiss given is very chaste. A quick brush of lips. The second is deeper, and in the third his tongue darts quickly into her mouth.

In a shockingly fluid maneuver, Sirius rolls Farren onto her back.

He kisses the apples of her breasts and an unbidden excitement starts in her navel. She should stop him. She knows. She knows that everything is better after a very prolonged tease; that this is not the ideal place; and that people surround them. But she doesn't care. In that moment Farren is so tired of being the tease.

She feels small and helpless underneath him. A sensation of being utterly overwhelmed flutters through her as he slides a hand under a nightgown. But it is a good sort of overwhelmed.

He touches Farren with well practiced fingers, rubbing her with his thumb while still managing to leave soft kisses on her jaw line.

Farren tries very hard to remain silent. But the attempts are futile, and gasps sound every now and again. Her body is feverish. It is over-heating and becoming moist with sweat and other fluids. She wants - needs - something but doesn't know what.

Sirius. His hair is still sleep tousled, and those eyes are alight with lust- or perhaps something more. Oh, he is so beautiful. She wants to say his name and make him realize what he's doing to her, but cannot gather enough breath to.

Her pants are now coming quick and sharp. There is only a second to prepare for the release. Before she knows it, her back is arching and a stifled moan escapes her.

Farren's eyes open after a few moments recuperation.

Sirius smirks arrogantly.

"Shut up," she says, still a little breathless.

"I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, but I know what you're thinking."

He chuckles. "Au contraire, ma petit. I know what you are thinking."

She feels him still hard and ready underneath the sheets. The smirk leaves his face when she begins to massage him with her leg.

"I suppose it's only fair that I return the favor," Farren says, with fingers poised on the waistband of his trousers.