the_debt_of_time

perhaps back when they had dated, but certainly not after he discovered that she was not
his mate.
"Don't be ridiculous. He loves me the same as I love him, nothing more."
"Well, that I do believe."
She narrowed a glare at him. "Just what is that supposed to mean?"
Sirius crossed his arms over his chest—obviously holding back the wince of pain
the motion caused, all for the sake of looking self-righteous and smug when he said, "You
and Remus are in love with each other, and the only reason you broke up was because of
some ridiculous thought that fate is fucking with your love lives."
Her jaw tightened in response to his words. "There is sufficient evidence on the
subject of werewolf mates and―"
"I'm not talking about Remus, Mia. I'm talking about you. About you and me." She
paled at his words and inhaled sharply. At her startled reaction, he continued, "Oh?
Nothing to say on that subject?"
Bugger.
She swallowed with great difficulty, her growing anxiety clinging to the inside of her
throat. His stare was hard and cold and reminiscent of the look he had given her the
moment he saw the scar on her ribs. The look that said he knew she had hidden
something—knew that she was lying to him.
"Your mum had plenty to tell me."
Shit.
"Like how we somehow provoked a bloody Soul Bond."
Fuck!
"And you've been keeping it, and I'm guessing a thousand other fucking things, a
secret from me."
The normally soft and humorous Sirius was gone, and in his place was the cold wall
that reminded her far too much of Draco. It only further proved that, as much of a
Gryffindor as Sirius was, he was still a Black.
Though, technically, wasn't she as well? In the few interactions with people who had
known Dorea Potter née Black, whether as a student at Hogwarts or in her adult years, not
one had failed to mention how much Mia reminded them of her mother.