Moonlight

Moonlight

Add-in to OotP

Rated: Overall NC-17 for graphic sex and adult situations.
Pairings: No slash. Sirius/OFC. Remus/same OFC. Alcohol use.

Summary: Sirius Black is left on his own in 12 Grimmauld Place until a strange woman is brought by Dumbledore. She too is a prisoner in the horrid house. Being two adults with little else to do, a relationship begins. And eventually, they will do what all adults do.

However, there is a catch. This new love in Sirius' life happens to be a werewolf. And Remus will be coming to stay over for the full moon. . .


Spoilers: Post OotP. This story is added in while Sirius is hanging-out in Grimmauld Place after the Christmas Holidays but before everything goes terribly wrong.

Notes: This story was originally posted at Immeritus: A Sirius Black Fan Club. (Said club's fanfic message board has no rating restrictions, so long as they're labeled correctly.) I have decided to share it with you!

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters have been borrowed from the works of J.K. Rowling. I've pretty much mangled the floor plan of Grimmauld Place to suit my purposes. In fact, since this story takes place approximately six months before that veil incident, maybe I'll just ignore canon altogether.
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1. Alone


She had come to this place in the night; whisked away from everything she had known. Milia stared up at the dirty ceiling. The tears had gone now, dried up with the dawn. A cold wintry light filtered through the deep burgundy curtains. She sighed. What did that old fool know! How could the elders have accepted his words! Sending her away to this place?

The house felt dark. A cloud of hurt and despair hung over it; suppressing every good feeling she could hope for. She had seen the décor; beheaded house-elves, leering portraits and dark magic paraphernalia. How could they tell her she’d be safe here? If there were ever a haven for evil it was this house.

And her host?! A drunken sot from what she’d seen last night. He had argued with the old wizard, threatened him and threatened her! She pulled herself up into a sitting position. The thick covers fell into her lap. Her thin white shift gave little warmth. Goose-bumps chased up and down her arms. Milia could tell the phase of the moon by how much the ambient temperature affected her. Last night it had been a thin crescent. The power of the crescent moon gave her nothing but as it grew in size, it would give her more.

Her stomach growled. “I wonder where I can get something to eat?” she whispered. She crawled out of the four-poster bed. The floor was cold beneath her bare feet. Her clothing barely covered her. “I need a bathroom. Dress first, eat after.” Milia looked around. There was onle doe door out of the room. She rummaged through her only suitcase. She grabbed a pair of faded jeans and an old t-shirt, clean socks and under clothes. Folding them together, she added a washcloth and a brush.

Taking a deep breath, she cracked the door slightly, peering out into the shadowed hallway. She listened to the great old house. There were small sounds in the walls; mice or rats or something more. But she didn’t hear anything that suggested another human was up and about. Probably sleeping it off, she thought.

She tip-toed down the hall, checking every door she came to. Most were locked, some were not. The ones that did open, revealed dusty bedrooms. One or two seemed more lived in than the rest. But they were all deserted. At the end of the hall she opened a door onto a bright, clean bathroom. “Oh, thank Goddess,” she breathed.

Milia hurried in and closed the door. She looked, but there was no lock. Still, a bright, sunny room with a closed door was better than that dank hallway. The large antique tub sat on four clawed feet. She stood in thought a moment, contemplating a nice warm bath. Her stomach loudly protested this new plan. No, a quick scrub with the washcloth will have to do.

Starting with her face and neck, Milia worked her way down her arms, under her breasts, down her legs. There were no towels. “Stupid,” she hissed. “How could I leave it in my room? Now I’ll have to air dry.” She stood near the door, just in case it opened. Being found naked in a strange bathroom wasn’t her idea of a good time.

When she’d dried, her goose-bumps returning, she dressed in her clean clothes and ran the brush through her shoulder-length black hair.

Gathering her used clothes, the washcloth and the brush, Milia listened at the door. Somewhere below her, a grandfather clock chimed the hour; eight-o’clock. She waited, but no sounds came. Not even the tiny skittering within the walls disturbed the silence. She crept back to her room, laid her stuff on top of a wooden chair and then went in search of the kitchen. It stood to reason that she would find it on the ground floor, or even lower.

As she made her way along the halls, she past a huge curtained portrait. Milia paused. Sleeping noises came from behind the curtains. In fact, most of the subjects in the paintings seemed to be asleep. Perhaps all of them were night owls, she thought. She continued past a drawing room and the entrance. For half a minute she was tempted. How easy it would be to just walk out that door. She really didn’t even need the stuff in her suitcase. Not really. But the old wizard swam to the front of her mind. “Your family is in danger while you remain. Come with me, for just a short while. You’ve seen too much and the wrong people know it.”

Would the ‘wrong people’ find her if she left? The wizard seemed to think so. At the foot of the last staircase, Milia came to the kitchen. A quick exploration gave her porridge for breakfast. Not her first choice. She made the porridge and ate at the worn wooden table. Then she lay her head down on the table and waited. She closed her eyes and listened to the house. Eventually the clock chimed noon.

Milia stretched, rising from her chair. Frowning, she headed back towards the stairs. No other sounds drifted through the house. I can’t be alone, can I? What if that crazed fool from the night before lay dead somewhere above her. Killed by the drink he obviously loved. Could she find the body? “Would I even want to?” If he is dead, and I wait long enough, I’ll be able to follow my nose to it.

There was nothing else to do. Milia started back up the stairs. She stopped at every floor, went through every room. Well, every room that wasn’t locked. At last she reached a winding tower stair. She climbed to the top to find a trap door before her. Milia pushed up cautiously. The door swung open silently. She looked through. The smell hit her first. Straw, stale blood and a feathery dustiness assailed her. The sour tang of alcohol permeated it all. She’d found her host.

He lay passed out in the straw near a strange, bird-creature. The gray creature glared down at her. A squawk echoed round the tiny room. The man in black stirred at the sound. Milia ducked out quickly, letting the trap door fall silently into place. She waited just beneath the door. No sound of movement came. At least he’s not dead. And she knew where to find him if she needed him.

Milia backed away from the trap door, returning to the basement kitchen. She made a sandwich for lunch. Ham and cheese, yum. Her host still hadn’t shown himself. He’s been on quite a bender, she thought. I wonder what’s so wrong with his life. But then, maybe it’s just this house. This place may drive me to drink.

At sunset, she returned to her room, closing and locking the door. She climbed out of her jeans and bra and lay on the unmade bead. With a sigh she closed her eyes.

In her mind, she ran through the forest, the cool earth beneath her bare feet. Her brothers and sisters ran with her, bathed in moonlight.