Into the Light

By the time Saturday morning arrived, the skies were thick with early morning fog, but as the sun pushed through, the haze lifted, leaving behind a crisp, clear autumn day—perfect flying weather.

Elizabeth pulled on her practice uniform, double-checking her gloves before heading down to breakfast. The castle was mostly quiet, with only a few stray students roaming the halls, but she knew the Great Hall would have at least a few familiar faces.

Sure enough, when she arrived, James and Sirius were already there, slumped over their plates in their Quidditch gear, looking half-dead.

Henry, she assumed, had already come and gone. He always got to the pitch early.

At the far end of the table sat a few younger students who were also trying out, but other than them, her options for company were slim.

With a sigh, she squared her shoulders.

If they all made the team, they’d be spending a lot of time together. It was best to assert control over the situation now.

“Black. Potter,” she greeted “mind if I?” sliding into the seat next to Sirius, across from James.

They both blinked blearily up at her, heads moving in slow, dazed synchronization.

“Hastings,” they muttered in unison.

James promptly dropped his head onto his arms, using them as a makeshift pillow, and within seconds, was snoring.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “You seem chipper this morning.” He mumbled. 

Sirius groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Can’t say the same for you.” She said. 

She smirked, starting to fill her plate. “Didn’t sleep well?”

“Tired,” he mumbled. “Didn’t sleep at all actually”

“Nervous?” she asked, taking a bite of bacon.

He scoffed, but the reaction was delayed, like he’d actually considered the question before brushing it off. “Nah. Pranking. And then… I have nightmares sometimes.”

She glanced at him, expecting him to backtrack, but for a fraction of a second, he looked exhausted—not just physically, but deeply, in a way that made her stomach twist.

Then, realizing he had let his mask slip, he gave a lazy, lopsided smile and added, “But I do seem to remember having some very interesting dreams—”

“Okay, Black,” Elizabeth cut in before he could fully launch into whatever flirtatious nonsense he was about to spout. “Let’s get something straight.”

Sirius blinked at her, looking mildly intrigued.

“I want our time on the Gryffindor team to be tolerable,” she continued. “And the only way that’s going to happen is if you lay off the flirting.”

Sirius opened his mouth, but she barreled forward.

“I know you can do it,” she said, pointing her fork at him. “You ignored me for four years—so clearly, it’s possible.”

His brows furrowed. “Okay, I didn’t totally ignore you—”

Elizabeth scoffed. “Right. That one time you defended my honor in second year totally makes up for the three years where you acted like I didn’t exist.”

Something flickered across his face—something almost like guilt—but before he could say anything, she plowed on.

“But that’s not the point,” she said briskly. “The point is, we can go back to that. Or, better yet, we can actually be friends. I know you like getting a rise out of me, but for the love of Quidditch and the House Cup, can you just give it a rest?”

Sirius studied her, tilting his head slightly.

“There were so many things I could have twisted in what you just said,” he sighed dramatically. “So many missed opportunities to say dirty things.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

“But,” he continued, his voice softer, “for the sake of Quidditch and teamwork—and whatever else you just went on about that I really can’t remember because it’s too bloody early—I’m going to call a truce.”

He held out his left hand.

Elizabeth eyed it warily before reaching out to shake it.

“I do appreciate that, Black,” she said sincerely.

Before she could pull away, he yanked her forward.

She barely caught herself from colliding into him, their faces now entirely too close. His smirk curled.

“Now,” he murmured, voice low, teasing, “I dare you not to fall for me when we actually become friends.”

He wiggled his eyebrows.

Elizabeth snorted.

“Fat chance,” she said, picking up her goblet and downing the rest of her chocolate milk in one go.

Then, before he could say anything else, she slammed her hands onto the table and jumped up—knocking the bench hard enough that James jerked awake, blinking wildly in confusion.

“What—?!” James yelped, eyes darting around, his glasses crooked on his face.

Sirius burst into laughter.

Elizabeth grinned to herself as she strode out of the Great Hall, leaving the two of them in her wake.

Elizabeth practically floated down to the pitch.

For years, it had been easy to disappear into the background, to keep her head down and go unnoticed. But this—this was different. This was fun.

She felt light, almost giddy, a feeling she was quick to attribute to the fact that, for once, she was just being herself in front of people who had never particularly noticed she existed before.

Yes, that was why she felt this way.

Not because Sirius Black had pulled her so close that morning that she could smell the minty-fresh toothpaste on his breath. Definitely not that.

When she reached the pitch, Henry was already there, his broom in hand, ready to lead what was undoubtedly going to be the most grueling tryout of the year.

“Lizzie!”

She barely had time to react before he threw an arm around her neck and yanked her into a noogie.

“Hey!!” she shrieked, flailing against him. When shoving him didn’t work, she slipped her hand up the sleeve of his jersey and jabbed at his ribs.

Henry yelped—a truly undignified shriek escaping him—and let go immediately.

Unfortunately, the momentum sent both of them toppling onto the grass.

Behind them, James and Sirius—who had just arrived—howled with laughter.

Elizabeth groaned, rolling onto her back. “You’re just as bad as they are.”

Henry, still grinning, held out a hand. She took it, letting him yank her up to her feet, and—for good measure—punched his arm.

He only threw his head back and laughed, completely unbothered.

Elizabeth shook her head but couldn’t help smiling. As annoying as he was, she loved her brother. She was going to miss his antics when he graduated—a thought she quickly shoved aside.

She reached up, undoing the bun Henry had so cruelly ruined, and flipped her head forward, raking her fingers through her hair before twisting it back into place. She held a large pin between her teeth as she secured it once more.

It was only when she straightened that she realized— catching his eye as she removed the pin from her lips and slipped it into her hair—Sirius Black was staring at her.

Had been staring at her.

For who knows how long.

She pointedly ignored it, reminding herself of their truce.

By the time the last of the students arrived, the pitch was buzzing with nervous energy. Seven new hopefuls had joined the original four, each of them shifting nervously as they prepared for their turn to prove themselves.

Henry let out a sharp whistle, cutting through the chatter.

“All right, listen up!” His voice carried easily across the pitch. “I know we’re all excited for the Gryffindor 1975 Team Tryouts, and I’m excited to see what you’ve got. We’re going to be running some drills—James and I will be leading them.”

He ran a finger down the list in his hand.

“For Beaters, we’ve got Gideon Prewett, Dex Mulhern, and Julian Robards—you’ll be with Sirius for beater drills.

“For Chasers, we have Maggie O’Connell, Graham Montague, and Jason Albright—you’re with me.”

Elizabeth exhaled in relief. Not being judged by Henry was good. It meant there was less chance of anyone accusing him of favoritism.

“For Seeker, we have Ethan McLaggen and Elizabeth Hastings—you’ll go with James. When drills are done, we’ll play a short scrimmage. That will really determine your fate on this team.

“All right—split up!”

With that, Henry kicked off, his group of chaser hopefuls following close behind.

James strolled up beside Elizabeth and gently bumped his elbow against hers.

She smiled and bumped her elbow back at him.

Ethan McLaggen, a nervous-looking fourth-year, hovered nearby, his expression downright fearful as he looked at James.

James grinned at him. “Right, I want to be clear, I am not a Seeker,” he announced, casually tossing something up and down in his hand. It was an electric-green Muggle golf ball, nearly identical to the color of the grass.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

“But,” James continued, grinning, “I do know a good Seeker when I see one. So—” He flicked his wand, enchanting the ball. “I’m going to send this wherever my heart desires, and I want to see how you two do separately.”

With a quick toss, he sent the ball into the air, straddled his broom, and took off.

Ethan, looking even paler than before, swallowed hard before pushing off the ground.

Elizabeth followed suit, watching as Ethan completely lost track of the ball. He hovered uselessly for a few seconds before diving in the wrong direction. By the time he corrected, the ball had long disappeared.

James winced. “Tough one,”  he muttered, letting him try a few more times, finally catching it on the fifth go. He called him down after that, patting Ethen on the shoulder when he hit the ground 

Then, he turned to Elizabeth with a glint in his eyes.

“Accio golf ball.”

The ball whizzed back into his hand.

He held it up, turning it over with a frown. “I thought the package said gold ball,” he admitted, shaking his head. “Would’ve been a perfect match for the Snitch. Didn’t realize the damn things were called golf balls.”

Elizabeth let out a small chuckle despite herself.

James flicked his wand again, sending the ball flying.

Elizabeth didn’t take her eyes off it for a second.

The moment it swerved, rounding one of the pitch pillars, she was already moving—diving, twisting, cutting through the air.

She caught it within moments.

James whooped, calling her down.

“Alright, let’s do it again.”

He sent the ball flying, and Elizabeth caught it again.

And again.

By the time they were finished, she was feeling confident. 

Henry hovered above the pitch, surveying the two makeshift teams.

“All right, for the scrimmage, we’ll be going without a Keeper as I’ll be observing,” he announced. “First team—O’Connell, Potter, Mulhern, Robards, and McLaggen. Second team—Montague, Albright, Prewett, Black, and Hastings.”

Elizabeth turned to see Gideon Prewett and Sirius high-fiving at the announcement.

Then, to her mild irritation, Sirius grinned at her and gave her a small nod—one that she could tell he wanted to turn into a wink.

She simply nodded back, choosing to ignore him, and flew over to join her team.

As they gathered in a rough circle mid-air, Sirius grabbed her arm and tugged her in closer.

“Oi!” she huffed as their brooms knocked together.

“Relax, Hastings, we’re strategizing.”

The others squeezed in tighter, linking their arms around each other’s shoulders in a floating huddle.

Sirius, grinning, lowered his voice. “The only ones we need to worry about over there are James and maybe McConnell. Hastings—catch the Snitch quickly, and Gideon and I won’t let a single Bludger touch that pretty little head of yours.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes just as he reached over to pat her on the head.

She smacked his hand away, but Sirius only chuckled.

“All right,” Henry called from above. “On my whistle!”

Elizabeth adjusted her grip on her broom.

The air was thick with anticipation.

She could feel the electric charge in the atmosphere, the tension of competitors waiting for the first move.

Henry released the Snitch.

The tiny, golden ball shot into the sky with a faint, irregular flicker, vanishing almost instantly against the sun.

Elizabeth tracked it until it disappeared—

Then, she simply waited.

Henry blew the whistle—and the scrimmage erupted into chaos.

James wasted no time, launching forward the moment the Quaffle was released. Maggie O’Connell was right behind him, pushing into position for the pass.

Montague moved to intercept, but James feinted left, flicking the Quaffle over Montague’s shoulder in a near-impossible pass to Maggie.

Montague swore loudly as Maggie caught it cleanly and barreled down the pitch.

Elizabeth barely paid attention to the Chasers. She was already scanning the air, her focus sharp, waiting for any sign of the Snitch.

McLaggen was hovering a few feet away, trying to play it cool, but she could tell he was watching her closely.

Waiting for her to move.

She smirked.

Bad strategy.

If he was following her instead of looking for the Snitch himself, she had already won.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Sirius swinging into action—literally.

A Bludger came hurtling straight toward Montague, but before it could reach him, Sirius slammed it with a resounding crack, sending it flying back toward James’s side of the pitch.

Julian Robards, James’s Beater, barely managed to deflect it away from Maggie in time.

Sirius grinned and rolled his shoulders, bat resting lazily on one shoulder as he surveyed the chaos.

Elizabeth turned her attention back to the Snitch—

There.

A tiny glint of gold, just above the farthest set of goalposts.

Her heart leapt.

She tilted forward on her broom and sped off.

Wind whipped past her face as she cut through the air, faster than anyone else could react.

McLaggen saw her move—panicked—and shot after her, but she had already gained too much ground.

The Snitch was zigging erratically, dipping down sharply—

She leaned in, pushing her broom even faster, flattening against it.

The air roared in her ears.

Then—

A shadow in her periphery.

McLaggen was barreling toward her, dangerously close—

Too close.

Elizabeth barely had time to react—

Then, from the opposite side of her, a Bludger came flying straight at her head. 

She didn’t see it.

But Sirius did.

There was a resounding CRACK—

And suddenly, McLaggen had to veer wildly off-course, missing Elizabeth by mere inches as the bludger was sent flying past him .

Elizabeth barely had time to process it—

Because the Snitch was right there.

She lunged forward—

Her fingers closed around the Snitch, the tiny wings beating furiously against her palm.

The whistle blew.

Her  team exploded into cheers.

Henry hovered down, shaking his head in disbelief. “That was the fastest catch I’ve seen in a long time.”

James, who had skidded to a stop midair, let out a low whistle. “Hastings, you absolute legend.” She blushed at the compliment. 

Elizabeth was still catching her breath, adrenaline buzzing through her veins, when she glanced over and found Sirius watching her—his bat still dangling lazily from his fingers, as if he hadn’t just saved her from being flattened out of the air with a well-placed Bludger.

She nodded toward him, tilting her head just slightly. “Thanks. For… that.”

Sirius grinned, but there was something different about it this time—something lighter, less teasing.

“Oh, don’t mention it,” he said easily, spinning his bat once before resting it back against his shoulder. “I reckon this’ll be a recurring problem.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but she didn’t disagree.

From below, Henry let out a loud whistle, motioning everyone back toward the ground.

As they all descended, Elizabeth stole one last glance at the tiny Snitch, its wings still fluttering madly against her palm.

Sirius POV

The first week back at Hogwarts was absolute madness.

Pranking. Flirting. Snogging. Staying up all night. Quidditch.

A proper return to form.

It had to be, really.

Sirius had spent the summer trapped in Grimmauld Place, stuck in his childhood room like a prisoner, forced to listen to his mother’s shrieking tirades about blood obligations and his familial duties while Regulus sat silent at dinner, eyes averted, knowing better than to speak to him. 

It had been easier to exist as Padfoot— curled up on the floor, invisible, untouchable. He had spent most of the summer in his canine form, trying to forget how it felt to be human, to be him. 

But now—now, he was free, and all the pent-up energy, the biting comments left unsaid, the rage at being trapped in that miserable house—it all had to go somewhere.

So, naturally, he had set half the castle on edge by the time Saturday morning arrived.

And now, as he sat at breakfast, utterly knackered, he realized something rather annoying.

He might have overdone it.

Even James, usually eager to match his chaos, was out cold, face planted in his folded arms across the table, snoring softly.

Sirius stirred his coffee, willing his eyes to stop burning from exhaustion.

Even though he was miles away from Grimmauld Place, he still found himself waking in the middle of the night, haunted by it.

A soft voice broke through his thoughts.

“Black. Potter.”

Sirius blinked, his sleep-fogged brain registering the last person he expected this early in the morning.

Elizabeth Hastings.

And just like that, Sirius felt a jolt of something dangerously close to alertness.

She looked put together, sharp, already in her Quidditch uniform, hair pinned back in an almost irritatingly perfect bun, like a halo.

Sirius didn’t have the energy to put on his usual smirk. He barely managed to mumble, “Hastings.”

James, still half-asleep, grunted the same response.

She slid into the seat next to him, and his head moved of its own accord, giving her an almost imperceptible nod of approval.

She started filling her plate, her movements precise, efficient. Sirius narrowed his eyes at her. How was she so alert? He couldn’t fathom it.

“You seem chipper this morning.” 

“Can’t say the same for you,” she observed, far too amused for his liking.

“Tired,” he muttered. “Didn’t sleep at all.”

Her brow furrowed slightly. “Nervous?”

Nervous.

The thought was so absurd he actually scoffed. “Nah. Pranking. And then… sometimes I get nightmares.”

He regretted it immediately.

The words had slipped out, unguarded. And he wasn’t used to that—wasn’t used to people asking him questions like they genuinely cared about the answer.

Hastings turned to look at him, her sharp blue eyes too knowing, too perceptive.

Sirius hated that look.

He hated it because it meant she might see through him.

So, he did what he always did.

Covered it up.

“But I do seem to remember having some interesting dreams—”

She cut him off, mercifully, saving him from his own deflections.

“Okay, Black, let’s get something straight.”

There was a fire in her eyes, something fierce and unwavering, and Merlin help him, that was enough to jolt him fully awake.

“I want our time on the Gryffindor team to be tolerable, pleasant even” she continued, dead serious. “And the only way that’s going to happen is if you lay off the flirting.”

Sirius was already preparing a quip when she pressed on.

“I know you can do it.” She pointed her fork at him like it was a bloody weapon. “You ignored me for four years—so clearly, it’s possible.”

Ouch.

Something twisted uncomfortably in his chest.

“I didn’t totally ignore you—”

Elizabeth scoffed. “Right. That one time you defended my honor in second year totally makes up for the three years where you acted like I didn’t exist.”

Damn, He had no idea she even remembered that… maybe he had ignored her, Not intentionally—not in a cruel way—but he had never really looked.

Hastings had always been there. The quiet one. The bookish one. The one who never demanded attention.

She had been awkward, all limbs and too-soft-spoken, never quite knowing where to place herself in a room full of louder people.

And sure, he had felt bad for her, in the way that he felt bad for the majority of people who weren’t as awesome as him and his chosen few. 

But he had never really seen her.

And now… now that was all he could do.

She wasn’t that awkward little girl anymore.

She was self-assured, confident, bloody stunning, with long golden hair that almost reached down to her bum and a cheekiness that had him enthralled.

And that was dangerous.

Because Sirius Black did not get involved with girls like Elizabeth Hastings.

Girls like her were not distractions.

Girls like her were the ones you actually wanted to keep around.

And Sirius Black… he didn’t keep anyone besides James, Remus and Peter. 

So, naturally, he did what he did best.

Deflected.

“There were so many things I could have twisted in what you just said,” he sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “So many missed opportunities to say dirty things.”

She rolled her eyes.

“But,” he added, his voice softer, “for the sake of Quidditch and teamwork—and whatever else you just went on about that I really can’t remember because it’s too bloody early—I’m going to call a truce.”

It was the smart thing to do.

She clearly wanted nothing to do with him beyond Quidditch, and honestly, that should have been a relief.

So why did his chest feel tight when she nodded in approval?

He reached out to shake her hand,grasping her fingers small, warm, soft against his own—and suddenly, his entire being was tethered to the point where her hand met his. 

He was thinking about her hands, how small they were compared to his, how if he stretched out his palm against hers, he could probably cover her entire—

Stop it.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled her forward, just enough that their faces were far too close, just enough that he could see the golden flecks in her blue eyes, just enough to feel the quick hitch of her breath.

“Now,” he murmured, smirking, “I dare you not to fall for me when we actually become friends.”

She snorted, unimpressed.

“Fat chance.”

She drained her goblet, slammed it onto the table, and stood—so abruptly that James startled awake, glasses askew, flailing wildly.

“What—?!” James yelped.

Sirius burst into laughter as Elizabeth strode away down the table. 

“What—what happened?” he mumbled, pushing his frames back into place. He blinked at Sirius, still looking half-dazed.

Sirius exhaled through his nose, watching as she left the hall without a second glance. “I think I just agreed to be Elizabeth Hastings’ friend.”

James, now considerably more awake, let out a bark of laughter, clapping him on the back. “We’ll see how long that lasts. You’ve got it bad for her.”

Sirius scowled, swatting James’ hand away. “I do not.”

James only grinned wider, pinching his cheek like an overenthusiastic grandparent. “You do! You absolutely do.”

“Oi! Get off me, Potter!” Sirius shoved him, and James dodged, still chuckling as they both stood, realizing they were nearly late for tryouts.

As they made their way out of the Great Hall, James, ever the instigator, cast him a knowing look.

“You know, mate, I’ve watched you cycle through half the girls in our year, and I can tell you—this is different.”

Sirius scoffed. “Oh, do enlighten me, oh great expert on romance.”

James ignored his sarcasm, grinning. “You and Lizzie have that same chemistry Lily and I have.”

Sirius barked out a laugh. “You mean the kind of chemistry where she hates you, and you pine after her for years without getting anywhere?”

James shrugged, completely unfazed. “I mean the fun, fiery passion that keeps things interesting. Keeps it going for many years to come.” He waggled his eyebrows dramatically.

Sirius rolled his eyes so hard he nearly saw the back of his own head.

“Prongs, no offense,” he drawled, “but I don’t think I’m the many years to come kind of guy.”

James hummed, unconvinced.

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “I’m the one night, nothing too serious, don’t-bring-him-home-to-Mum-and-Dad kind of guy.” He shrugged, though the movement felt a little heavier than it should have. “That’s just how it is.”

James nodded slowly, but Sirius knew that look—the one that said I know you better than that.

“Whatever you say, mate.” James smirked. “But Lizzie’s fit, she’s funny, and she’s not loud and annoying like most of the other girls. She wouldn’t go blabbing your business to everyone.”

Sirius glanced away, frowning.

James grinned wider. “You know, it might be nice to have someone besides me and the guys to hang out with. Because, and I mean this with the greatest respect, one day I am going to start dating Lily.”

Sirius snorted. “Yeah, alright, Potter, if that day ever comes, we’ll talk.”

“It will come,” James said loftily. Then he nudged him. “And when it does—what’ll you do then?”

Sirius punched his arm in response. James yelped, laughing, and shoved him back. They grappled playfully, jostling each other like a pair of overgrown puppies until they nearly tripped over their own feet.

Sirius grinned, shaking his head.

James was the only person in his life that he fully trusted. More than a brother. The only person who had ever chosen him without obligation, without expectation.

He wanted to tell that to James, but he didn’t really know how .

No one had really ever told Sirius Black they loved him, much less how to tell others around him he loved or cared deeply about them.

James sensed something in the silence because he clapped him on the back. Sirius realized they didn’t really need words because James understood. 

Sirius gave him a small, fleeting smile before returning the gesture, clasping James’s shoulder briefly as they trudged through the entrance of the pitch.

Then, he saw her down below, Lizzie and Henry were goofing around, her laughter light and unguarded.

Sirius thought it best to look away.

And yet—he didn’t.

He watched her as she reached up and pulled out her bun.

And for the second time that morning, he felt something strange twist in his chest.

Her hair fell loose in the morning sunlight, cascading over her shoulders in golden waves, catching the light in a way that made it seem almost unreal. She ran small fingers through it absentmindedly, pulling and twisting it back into a bun. 

He could feel himself staring as Lizzie made direct eye contact with him. She blushed and Merlin help him, she didn’t look away. Instead, she pulled the pin from between her teeth and slid it into place on top of her head.All while holding his gaze. He wasn’t sure if it lasted seconds or hours. 

Sirius felt something inside him shift, something dangerously close to feelings he’d sworn off long ago.He’d seen plenty of beautiful girls. He’d kissed them, charmed them, walked away from them without a second thought.

But he had never been this aware of someone.

Never felt his stomach drop just from making eye contact with a girl.

Never had to remind himself to breathe.

Oh, hell.

James, ever the bloody menace, nudged him, grinning like he had just won the House Cup. “You were saying?”

Sirius didn’t answer.

Lizzie held his stare for a second longer, then—mercifully—turned away, heading toward the others.

She had let him off easy, hadn’t called him out on the look he must’ve given her.

For now.

And Sirius—for the first time in a long time—had no clue what to do next.