18 ⏤ATTENTION
The first time it happened, it was in your third year herbology class shared between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.
The lesson was based on the defanging of vampiric vegetation. The plants themselves were somewhat sentient and could sense the advances of other living beings, which made it quite burdensome to collect its fangs for potion ingredients. However, with the right tools and technique, demonstrated by Professor Sprout, it could prove to be quite a prompt and uncomplicated task to labour.
“Does everyone have their gardening and dental tools?” Professor Sprout asks, encouraging everyone to survey their workstations before confirming that they were ready to try their hand at defanging, “Brilliant! You may begin when you are ready and I will make rounds about the greenhouse if anyone needs assistance.” And so everyone got to work.
You found that the toiling and labour came naturally to you so it wasn’t surprising that you were the first in the whole class to complete the work. With a proud smile and huff of satisfaction, Professor Sprout approached you, singing praises for her fellow Hufflepuff. She awarded you ten points before persuading you with extra should you be willing to help out your other classmates. “I’d be happy to, professor,” you smile as she nods proudly. “15 more points to Hufflepuff,” she gave you a wink before sending you on your way. Naturally, you floated about the greenhouse, helping your fellow Hufflepuffs with their defanging technique as well as some Gryffindors. You were just about to approach another struggling student when you heard a shout of pain to your far left. Instantly, your caring nature took control and you rushed to the person, who you quickly discovered was Sirius Black. The notorious prankster shared a workstation with Peter, his fellow marauder, who fussed about him uselessly, not knowing what to do. “What happened?” you asked with furrowed brows and concerned eyes. “Sirius was getting a little frustrated with the plant and decided to take off his gloves—” that was all you needed before you were at Sirius’s side and inspecting the scratch he had retained from his idiocy. “Never compromise your safety, okay? Thank goodness it’s nothing serious, nevertheless…” you crouched down to open up the bottom cupboard of their workstation for the first aid kit and immediately went about treating the shallow wound on Sirius’s hand. As you focused on treating his injury, you completely missed his fascinated stare and rosy cheeks.
Despite Sirius finally finding his family in the marauders, this was the first time he had experienced such tender care and loving hands. And with such a pretty face too…Sirius thought to himself, lost in the image of you and wholly forgetting the pain from his injury. Your gentle touch, worried profile and pleasant disposition throughout the interaction left quite the impression on him. “What’s your name?” was his quiet question - unusual for his standardly loud and boisterous expressions. Only after you had taken care of his wound, did you finally introduce yourself with a warm smile. He whispers your name with a growing smile before regarding your appearance thoughtfully. It was, somewhat, intimidating to be under his steel-grey stare but his admiring nod and toothy grin was reassuring enough, “I’m Sirius,” he introduces and grins when you giggle and explain that you already knew.
“Ah!” Sirius cries before shouting for you. You were both in your sixth year now and his theatrical antics around you have only grown more common, progressing from intentionally acquired small wounds from ‘accidents’ in shared classes to staged aches and pains from a simple brushing of the hand in corridors, “Help me, doll! I’m in pain,” always so dramatic, Sirius flails his arms and attempts to forge tears on his way to you. This occurrence had become so common that nobody turns a blind eye whenever Sirius lets out a pained cry anymore. Everyone knows that it’s only because Sirius has somehow spotted you in the crowd and wants your attention. It was attention you were more than willing to give, however, so you had no complaints. “Awww~ Sirius~” you coo, playing to his wants every time and never discouraging him from approaching you despite his obvious intentions. To meet him, you stand from your seat in the open courtyard bench and open your arms for him to fall into. His tall figure, however, keeps him standing, his arms wrapping around your smaller stature from above your shoulders. Sirius nuzzles his face into your hair and hums in content when he is able to indulge in your familiar, comforting scent., “are you alright?” He doesn’t say anything and instead pulls back to look at you with an unsatisfied pout, as if he was upset at you for something— “are you alright darling?~” you repeat, eliciting a wide grin before he’s back to cuddling you and burying his face into your hair. “James hit me!” he whines pathetically and you giggle to yourself when you see the accused give Sirius an incredulous look from behind. Lily giggles at James’s dismay and hugs him from the side, the brunette rolls his eyes and smiles good-naturedly, adjusting his glasses before returning her embrace.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean it, sweetheart,” you swear you can hear Sirius purr from the nickname you call him by. He, at some point in your fifth year, demanded that he be the only one you call by such loving endearments after going into a strop when he overheard you calling your Ravenclaw friend with similar affection.
“It still hurts,” was his pouty response. Some people may argue that Sirius was taking full advantage of your established kindness but you always shook off the comments. Kindness was a part of your nature and it felt good to take care of others so it was a win-win situation for both of you. A majority of the time, it wasn’t a serious issue, like now, but for if and when Sirius actually needed medical attention, you had practised some healing spells and carried a small muggle and wizard first aid kit with you everywhere. When Sirius found this out, he had somehow managed to increase the amount of times he would go to you for attention. He would dramatise everything: a brushing of someone's shoulder, an incident with a potion, another accident in herbology or even a playful hit from one of his friends.
Patting his back softly, you pull your face away from his chest to look up at him, “what do you want me to do to make it feel better?” you prompt with a warm smile.
Following all your usual dialogue, you guess that he may ask for a longer hug, sweets, for you to make him his favourite tea or to lay his head on your lap while you pet his hair and pretend to cast a healing spell on him through your consoling touch. There was a pause as Sirius thought over what he wanted, staring off to the side before finally meeting your attentive, warm eyes once more. His lips pull up into a small smile as he leans down close enough for your noses to touch. The action makes the air catch in your throat as his request sends your heart racing in your chest.
“I want a kiss…”