a very magical inbox! pt II - for ataraxion

[doggedly]

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S. BLACK

... inbox pt I ...

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[doggedly]

If you can find eighteen people willing to play such a boring game then, yeah. I expect it won't be too hard to play.

[Sorry not sorry. Surely it's a good sign that he's taking the piss out of her for her choice in sports.]

[majestyofthethrone]

[She hits him, lightly, on the leg, but there's a smile on her face. This is easy. This feels like how it felt, back, before.]

You get to hit things, you can appreciate that.

[doggedly]

[He permits the hit from her, with good humour, and not so much as a wince or a downtick in his sceptiscim of the coolness of base ball.]

Please. In my favourite sport, I get to hit people. Sorry if I'm not as impressed as you think I ought to be.

[majestyofthethrone]

Too bad I never played hockey.

[That would be Sirius' sport, she thinks, if he were not magical. Or rugby. Something where ramming into people was a genuine part of the game.]

[doggedly]

What the hell is hockey?

[Because it doesn't sound promising.]

[majestyofthethrone]

It's a sport played on ice on skates with long sticks that you're supposed to use to get the puck into the other teams nets, but mostly people use them to start fights.

[Blood bounces on ice. She knows. She's seen it.]

[doggedly]

Sticks in fights?

[Maybe this is his sport.]

What's a puck, exactly? Is that like a ball?

[majestyofthethrone]

[She sketches one out, quickly, shows it to him, before erasing it to write again.]

Its like a ball, only flat, so it glides on the ice.

[doggedly]

[Huh. Sirius studies the drawing during its brief life on the slate, trying to imagine this in his head.]

The bit about the ice skates wouldn't be so bad. Far better than running around on foot all the time. Are the sticks more like clubs, like in base-ball?

[majestyofthethrone]

[She sketches a hockey stick, too, let's him look at it, and erases it to write again.]

They're long. Five feet, maybe? Four? I clearly don't play hockey.

[doggedly]

[Some mental maths, to try to work out what that would be in actual physical space. It's disappointing that they look more broomsticky than club-y, but. Beggars, choosers, et cetera.]

Got a nice end bit, don't they. You could hack at the shins with that. Yeah, all right, I'd try it. It can't be any worse than the others.

I mean, not when there's golf.

[majestyofthethrone]

It's much better than golf.

[She nudges up a bit closer, so she's against his side.]

I think you'd like rugby, too, but I don't know how it works, only that people slam into each other a lot.

[doggedly]

On ice skates?

[He doesn't put an arm around her, but he doesn't shrug her away either. Just-- sits beside her. Which might seem a little backwards, or slow, since they've already had makeup comfort sex but, whatever.]

[majestyofthethrone]

No, on foot.

[She doesn't seem bothered by the lack of affection. If anything, maybe she's comforted by the fact that she hasn't been thrown out, that they're talking about this stupid thing, that they're just-

Together.

It's nice.]

[doggedly]

What, that's it?

[A little disappointed, honestly; the violence made that one sound promising.]

See, that's the problem with muggle games. There's no interesting feature to them, they all end up being 'blokes running in a field'.

[Idly, he reaches over to smudge his thumb through the downswoop of the n in on.]

[majestyofthethrone]

[She erases the rest of the words.]

Well, it's not like we can fly. There's polo, but you have to be pretty rich and stuck up for polo on horseback.

You know, people like you.

[She wrinkles her nose up, and smiles a little, so he knows she's teasing.]

[doggedly]

[WOW his mouth drops open in clear and exaggerated shock.]

Sorry, what? Is there someone else here that you were directing that toward? And I doubt you lived in a tin-roof shack, Miss Violin-and-Maths Prodigy, so I'll thank you to watch what you're saying.

[Almost said watch how you speak to me which would have sounded very rich-and-stuck-up so. Good job not saying that, Sirius.]

[majestyofthethrone]

[Good job indeed.]

And I went to a very expensive school. I can smell old money from a mile away, and you, sir, are the oldest money there is.

[She twists her mouth, it's very cute, and she turns and presses it against Sirius', just like that.]

Maybe I'm a gold digger.[She adds that, a minute later, looking very self-satisfied.]

[doggedly]

You what!

[It's a very cute expression, and a very cute kiss. Sort of unfair, really. And while Sirius can be sensitive about money--the rejection of both family gold and family name--he can, given the right circumstances and the right people, laugh at it all. He laughs now, too amused to be properly upset.]

Ah, well, sorry to disappoint you, Miss Gold Digger, but I've been cut off from all that old money. You won't get very far with me. Might try my brother, though I don't know that you're his type.

[majestyofthethrone]

Do you mean crazy, blonde, or not magical? Because I can dye my hair.

[Maybe that's good, making jokes about surviving the next Jump, if there is such a thing as a next Jump. And maybe it's good she's smiling, and he's smiling, because it lightens her face, it makes her seem a little less exhausted.]

[doggedly]

More the fact that you're a muggle, but-- if you wanted to try dying your hair to see if you could distract him...

[He shrugs. This is all so conversation for the sake of conversation, stupid jokes about people she doesn't know and won't meet. It doesn't matter. It's fun.]

He likes brunettes, mostly, when he can get them. But I think you should stay blonde.

[majestyofthethrone]

[She tosses her hair, so the blonde swishes back, and makes like she's haughty for a moment.]

I bet I'm too pretty for him.

[And another wrinkle of her nose. Joking.]

[doggedly]

[He raises his eyebrows, with a mild noise, like he's surprised at her vanity, but... after a second, he leans in, to confer this secret:]

You are.

[majestyofthethrone]

[The flush is automatic, but then she smiles a little, ducks her head, scribbles:]

Well, then better for me I'll never meet him.

[doggedly]

Well, yeah. Merlin, it's better if no one ever meets him. I didn't need to call you fit in order to tell you that.

[And he leans over to nudge at her with his shoulder, teasing.]

Hang on, did you trick that out of me? You did, didn't you. That was a set-up.