Written for slash100
characters: Sirius, Harry
Thank you, knightmare, for betaing these monsters!

? -:- PG -:- Sirius/Harry
There was something wrong about the way he looked at me. The way his eyes captured all my motions, the way they followed me and would never let go; it was as if he was imprinting, burning everything into his memory. But he refused to be caught, refused to acknowledge that he was caught staring.

There was something wrong about the way I looked at him. The way my eyes were lured by the captivating sway of his hips while he walked, the way they lingered over his pale, delicate nape, the way they paid too much attention to his lips. It was as if I did not know how to look away. But I refused to be afraid of getting caught.

We refused to meet each other's eyes, but something was there, between us, lurking and dangerous.

? -:- PG-13 -:- Sirius/Harry
He was doing that again; smiling his secret little smile, glancing at me coyly from behind those lashes. I was tempted to throw caution to the winds and take him right then and there, but I held back, for Remus was staring. Sweet, sweet Remus was staring. I hated that he noticed, that he knew.

I wished I were not his godfather. I wished I could openly answer his gaze and smile back, like I would have done with any other. I could have held him close, tasted those lips, and stared into those beautiful eyes while I lowered myself onto him, without feeling guilty.

If only he was not my godson. If only he was not James'. My James…

sometime after book 5 -:- PG -:- Sirius/Harry
Standing here, just out of reach from the veil, Harry could almost smell the darkness around it. He certainly could hear it whispering.

He stared at it with trepidation and interest. It had someone whom he wanted so badly behind it, someone who must have just whispered his name, pleading for him, pleading for his help.


It was vague, almost indecipherable. It was all that was heard, and it was not enough. He needed more. Much more.

Almost involuntarily, his hand reached out to touch it. Only a few strands, silky but not, answered to his touch. They flared, bringing even more shadows to surround him. But he only saw what was beyond his reach, just a hairbreadth shy from his fingertips.

Grey eyes, soft and promising. Soft lips whispering his name.

He closed his eyes, and let the darkness pull him into its embrace.

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