the_debt_of_time

He craved her touch for years and years, and it killed him when she was angry and
would not pet him—even more when it became inappropriate to do so because she had
started dating Remus.
Sirius was not just addicted to her body and how it stirred him to life the way no
other girl's ever could. He was not just addicted to her smell and the way that it felt like it
could cleanse the sins right out of him. He was not just addicted to the feel of her, or
the sight of her, or the absolutely heavenly taste of her. He was addicted to the way
she loved him.
He tossed in his bed, forcing himself to ignore the fact that his sheets smelled like
her. He focused on the softest lights peeking through the window, indicating that the sun
would rise within the next half hour or so. A new day. He did not want a new day. He
wanted the night all over again, wishing he could forget that he had seen that scar on her
ribs. What the hell was she hiding? Who hurt her? How could he figure it out so that he
could hurt them back?
Tilly appeared with a soft pop. "Young Master Sirius?"
Sirius yelped in surprise and tumbled off the side of his bed, landing on the ground
with a loud thunk. His right leg tangled in the sheet, preventing him from getting up
without looking like a clumsy prat. He sighed and raised his focus, glancing at the little elf
who had the audacity to look amused over his plight. He was not in the mood for any
company, let alone the bossy house-elf.
"Tilly, it's a bit early to want to clean my room, isn't it?"
Tilly took in the bed before her, and she grimaced. "After what was done in it a few
hours ago, Tilly would like to pull out the good Cleaning Spells. The burning ones."
He stared, gobsmacked. Shit.
"Tilly is coming to tell that Mistress is waiting for Young Master Sirius in the
library," she said sweetly, though there was mischief playing across her face.
He felt like the house-elf was hiding something. He was technically considered her
Young Master now, and Sirius was tempted to order her to tell him everything, but the
Potters treated their elf kindly, and he knew by watching closely that Tilly responded to
direct orders differently than Kreacher or any of the other house-elves he had seen before.
For all he knew, if he gave the elf an order, she would smack him in the mouth for giving
her attitude.