Sirius had always been confident, even as a child. He would speak to near strangers and talk their ears off. He would chat up people in public and wander around by himself. Even as a first year at Hogwarts, he acted like he owned the place. James helped with that too. The two of them eventually did run the place in a sort of way. Now, the Potter home, the Quidditch pitch, the Cackling Stump - they were no different. If his friends were there, Sirius belonged there too.
He had a feeling she knew more than she was telling him, and while he had a sense that he’d piece it together eventually, he wished she would stop acting like she was so good at keeping secrets. He knew her well enough at this point to know when she was hiding something. It made sense when Lily started the story, but as she continued, he felt like he was going to choke on his pancakes. The food turned thick in his mouth and he felt he could barely swallow.
He took a drink of water and tried not to look too spooked. He could do this. He’d done this. But that was the thing. He’d done it so casually to James that it had barely even been there. And Remus, well. That was another thing entirely. Lily would be different. Not bad. Just different. Sirius wasn’t comfortable enough yet. He didn’t feel ready. “Lily,” was all he said with wide eyes. “Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “Sure, it’s… yeah I guess I remember that. I feel…” Flashes of the night went back into his head. The girl, her smile. The boy, his smile. How the boy felt dangerous and alluring and Sirius wanted him. He wanted to have a normal conversation, but in his head, it was like sirens were going off. “A guy,” he said. “Yeah. That’s uh… Something I do. I shouldn’t have led her on like that. That wasn’t fair.”
He watched Lily. She hadn’t changed at all during the conversation. She was still Lily. She showed no signs of being mad or upset. This was Lily. This was Lily who saw him drunk off his ass in the Gryffindor common room more times than he could count singing at the top of his voice along to David Bowie. Lily who was so pretty on her wedding day that James and Sirius had cried. Lily, the fifth Marauder (though he’d never say that out loud.) He took a deep breath and summoned that Sirius Black confidence. He’d be okay. “But if she was crying because she was being homophobic or something then fuck that.”
Lily had always been observant. It was a trait that had been passed down to her from her mother. Her father, the oblivious professor. Her mother, the one with the sharp eye. Lily’s mum could see through just about any lie; follow a trail where it might lead. She’d been proud to have picked that up from her, although sometimes, it meant that she noticed more than she should. Sometimes, it meant there were secrets that she could guess before they were told. Lily had also learned the art of patience in this way; had learned not to push others, especially those she cared about. When they wanted to tell her her secrets, they would.
Still, she hated it. She hated feeling as though she knew something that she shouldn’t know yet. With Sirius, she’d known from the way he’d looked at Remus in their sixth year. Love could absolutely be friendly, but there was something more that. A glint in his eye that appeared only when Remus was near. It was hard to bring up around him, because it felt, often, like she knew something he didn’t know. It was his secret, and yet not even he seemed to be in on it. So, Lily hated talking about it; hated brining up the fact that Sirius might have kissed a guy, or that there was a cute one looking at him at the bar. It wasn’t that she minded, but that she thought he might be upset that she’d already known.
As he stumbled over the words, though, Lily couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved. He was telling her, finally, and now it didn’t have to be a secret. Now, it was something they shared. She knew, though, it was not the time for sentimentality. Sirius didn’t need to be reminded that she loved him with a hug, or with her usual words of encouragement. Instead, she stabbed her fork into her pancakes, chewing thoughtfully at his comment. “I think it was rather because you broke her heart,” she grinned, raising a brow. “Sirius Black, heartbreaker. Could you imagine? I’d be picking up boys and girls left and right, wouldn’t I? And we’d lose too many shirts. You can’t keep borrowing James’.” And that was that, she thought. She knew now, for certain, and they didn’t need to dwell on it. He would always be her brother; no matter who he fancied, or who he kissed at a karaoke bar. She hoped he knew that of her; hoped he knew how much she loved him, even if sometimes it drove her mad.
