With a crooked smile, Sirius listened as Gilderoy, still at a distance, hinted at something more for later. His eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and intrigue, a challenge rising within him at the flirtatious wink sent his way. He nodded subtly, acknowledging the secretive promise of a dance with a playful incline of his head, his own gaze steady and inviting.
His attention, however, was soon divided by the arrival of Adar, his presence shifting the dynamic significantly. The casual display of ownership, the hand on Gilderoy’s neck, sparked an undercurrent of tension within Sirius, a dogged territoriality that rose to the surface unbidden.
“Well, Roy,” Adar said, and Sirius’s gaze flicked back to him, an unamused smile etched onto his face. He studied the man, analysing his every word, the way he evaluated him, and the clear dominance he exerted over Gilderoy.
His words were met with a dry chuckle from Sirius. “Not quite a fan,” he echoed Gilderoy’s sentiment with a smirk. The jab was light, a touch of humor meant to challenge the stiff atmosphere that Adar had brought. He kept his gaze steady on Gilderoy, whose demeanor had shifted noticeably in Adar’s presence.
Observing the scene unfolding before him, Sirius felt a familiar cold trickle of discomfort. The hand resting proprietarily on Gilderoy’s neck, the unmistakable display of control, brought unwelcome memories flooding back to Sirius; his own upbringing in the suffocating confines of the Black family household. His eyes darted to Gilderoy, reading the restrained tension in his demeanor, his usual flamboyant spirit dimmed by Adar’s presence. It was a sight that stirred up a powerful surge of empathy within Sirius; he, of all people, understood what it was like to be in the clutches of someone else’s expectations.
As Adar turned his attention to him, Sirius kept his expression carefully neutral. He wasn’t a man to back down easily, but in this situation, he knew he had to tread lightly. For Gilderoy’s sake.
Sirius held his ground, swallowing down the surge of distaste. His expression was carefully composed, but he couldn’t stop the flicker of defiance in his grey eyes. He had a reputation for being unyielding, and even in the face of discomfort, he was not about to compromise that.
“Sirius Black,” he responded, meeting Adar’s firm handshake with his own. The subtle pressure was a silent challenge, a proclamation of his own strength, all while keeping his manners in check. He might have left his pure-blood upbringing behind, but the etiquette lessons had been thoroughly drilled into him.
He felt his gaze pulled back towards Gilderoy, noticing the restrained tension in his posture and the vague distance in his eyes. It stirred a powerful empathy within Sirius, one that transformed into a protective instinct. He, of all people, knew what it felt like to be an accessory to someone else’s grandeur, to be a puppet in someone else’s play.
Sirius listened as Adar introduced himself, dismissing Gilderoy’s attempt at explanation with a raise of his hand. The tone was casual, almost friendly, but the gesture hinted at something more possessive, something Sirius didn’t particularly care for. However, Adar’s interruption of Gilderoy stirred a sense of annoyance. The way Gilderoy had stiffened under Adar’s touch, his eyes betraying a moment of vulnerability before shuttering closed, didn’t sit well with Sirius. He felt a powerful urge to step in, to defend, as if hoping to spare Gilderoy from a fate he himself had been unable to avoid.
He held Gilderoy’s gaze for a moment longer, hoping to communicate a sense of solidarity. He might not have been able to protect himself from his family’s expectations, but he’d be damned if he’d stand by and watch someone else suffer the same fate. He responded, a note of defensiveness creeping into his voice. “Gilderoy’s more than capable of speaking for himself, isn’t he?”
Adar’s eyebrows could have hit the roof as Sirius introduced himself. He had forgotten to remain polite, forgotten to not show his truth within his expression. He looked impressed, and intrigued, and behind his shoulder, Gilderoy watched the reaction with reverent fear and confusion.
“Sirius Black.” Adar echoed, his eyes glancing down at Sirius’ hand as they shook, as if touching him was like gracing a relic of culture itself. “Well, the pleasure is all mine, I can assure you.” he continued, finally releasing his hand. “All mine.”
Gilderoy cleared his throat, unable to disguise all of his discomfort, as Adar physically made room for them to stand side by side, allowing him into the conversation. He did his best to keep his shining smile, his general glow, but it was clearly diminished- faltered by the anxiety of Adar’s eyes upon Sirius. Every time Adar looked at Sirius with a particular shine, Gilderoy’s eyes narrowed with a sense of desperation
As Sirius locked eyes with Gilderoy, he could feel himself strain. Part of him wanted to emote, wanted to try and communicate through expression, that Sirius should leave as soon as possible. The other part of him, however, fell into Sirius’ dark gaze with thoughtless abandon, indulging in the respite of not worrying, not calculating. He felt himself breathe.
But as Sirius spoke, Gilderoy felt that sense of calm and breath leave him. His nerves all focused upon Adar and his reaction- his entire body pointed towards the Professor as if he’d be able to anxiously divine his meaning before it was said.
“Of course he is!” Adar agreed with Sirius, nodding deeply. His arm came to stretch around Gilderoy, his hand clasping the back of Gilderoy’s neck firmly. Gilderoy swallowed dryly. “It’s just that his words cost more than most, now that he’s a published author, eh Roy?” Grunnion chuckled, squeezing the back of Gilderoy’s neck until he winced softly.
Gilderoy nodded, glancing between Adar and Sirius with downcast eyes. “Didn’t you want to make a transfer, here?” he asked Grunnion softly, before his face snapped back to practiced neutrality.
Gilderoy seemed to not want Sirius to be in any part of what Gruinnion referred, his eyes inable to disguise the glint of panic, the subtle turns of his head as he watched the two of them speak, how many tally’s he had again his wall.
“For the right person, I’ll sing.” Gilderoy teased conspicuously, for which Adar gave him a satisfied nod.
