𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄
chapter thirteen; A Father-Daughter Thing
" No, no, I am capitalism's hands, here. "

  SIRIUS BLACK FOUND Salem Gerard on a chilly Saturday morning, sitting outside with Lily Evans and Dottie Fitzgerald. The girls were giggling as if they'd been friends their entire lives, comfort their common ground, with smiles brightening up the slowly melting winter wonderland.

  "Hey, Sal," Sirius greeted once he was close enough, making all three girls look up and lose their amusement, "Can I chat with you for a minute?"

  "Sure," Salem said without moving.

  "Oh, um, alone?"

  "She has every reason not to see you alone, Black."

  "It's important, though," Sirius told Lily defensively, "Really important— we'll stay where you can see us if it makes you feel better, Evans."

  "Don't talk down to me—"

  "It's fine," Salem cut off Lily, "Trust me, I can handle Sirius."

  Dottie gave Salem a smile of reassurance as the girl stood, receiving one back before she followed Sirius. He stopped behind a large column, wringing his hands momentarily.

  "Is everything okay?"

  "I know it's you."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "You're James's mystery girl."

  Salem thought it'd feel less daunting. That she'd be ready when someone found out, she'd face it with a brave face and be unapologetic. But as Sirius said the words, Salem felt like the curtain had been drawn and her entire life was on display.

  "Does he know?"

  "No," Sirius said quickly, "But he should—"

  "No," Salem said in a panic, "No, if you're really sorry about what you did all those years ago, fix it now. Don't do this to me, again."

  "The situations aren't the same, Sal," Sirius said quietly, "James fancies you— Mystery Girl— and it's not fair that I know and he doesn't."

  "You don't get it, I can talk to him about anything, and the second he knows who I am, that's all ruined."

  Sirius's brows furrowed at this, making Salem sigh and produce a small stack of papers.

  "They're all from the past week," She said as Sirius flipped through one side of the conversation, "Something's changed— I've told him everything."

  "You found your dad?" Sirius asked in shock, "Woah— Sal—"

  "They were for him, not you," Salem grumbled, crossing her arms, "I'm just saying. . . I don't want to ruin it, Sirius."

  "It won't ruin it— James is head over heels, he won't care whose behind the mask."

  "Yes, he will."

  "I can't keep your secret forever," Sirius caved eventually, his face crestfallen, "Remus knows, too. Lying to our best mate— it's not right."

  "So you're gonna tell him?"

  Sirius couldn't hurt her— again. She still looked tough, mean, like Salem, but her expression was one of defeat. She knew Sirius held all the cards, that he could tell James without a second thought and it wouldn't change that much for him. 

  "No," He mumbled, "You've got to. Before the year is up."

  "Thanks, Sirius," Salem said after a long moment, "I'm sorry that you found out."

  "Yeah, me too."

  Salem gave him a tight-lipped smile before re-joining her friends, leaving Sirius Black to loiter in loneliness until he got sick of it all.

⥊

  "Valentine's Day, any big plans?"

  Roman Mayes wasn't sure how exactly to be a dad. He'd been trying, but neither Salem nor Roman were very good at the father/daughter relationship thing.

  Once it was made clear that Salem had only applied to work with her father, Rosmerta extended the offer to quit without any fallout. 

  The teen took this very happily, but her appearances in the Three Broomsticks somehow seemed to double.

  "No," Salem laughed, flipping through her Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, "Valentine's Day is a capitalistic holiday that feeds off insecure people who need a special day to feel loved."

  Roman raised his eyebrows and nodded, making Salem falter and look up. 

  "Shit, you like Valentine's Day, don't you?"

  "Don't cuss," Roman reprimanded sadly, "And yeah— I make special drinks."

  "I'm sorry—"

  "No, no, I am capitalism's hands, here," Roman mumbled, staring at his palms.

  "You're an independent pub and inn for the Wizarding World, it hardly counts," Salem noted, "Capitalism is more of a muggle thing, anyway."

  "So, no plans, eh?" Roman knocked on the bar, leaning on his hand as Salem returned to her schoolwork, "We could do something."

  Salem crunched her nose at her father.

  "Don't do that," He pointed, "It's a Dad-Daughter thing, you know?"

  "Yeah, for, like, nine-year-olds," Salem mumbled, "It's weird if we do something on Valentine's Day."

  "Says who?" Roman asked, jumping when Rosmerta squeezed behind him to count the cash register before they opened, "Hey, Rosy, you think it's weird if I take Salem on a date on Valentine's day?"

  "No," Rosmerta said, furrowing her brows, "My dad took me on dates."

  "See!"

  "Okay, maybe it's not weird to you guys," Salem pointed her pen around haphazardly, "I don't really know what's normal and what isn't for dads and daughters."

  "Hey, neither do I," Roman answered just as panicked as Salem, "But we can try, right?"

  "I don't know how I didn't see it before," Rosmerta tutted, shaking her head, "You two are clearly related— we're both blind, Roman."

  "Thank you, Rosy, you've got great timing."

  Rosmerta cracked a smile, but it went into full-blown laughter when Salem snorted. The redhead was trying to suppress her humor, burying her face in her textbook.

  Though, Roman smiled at all the laughter, ruffling Salem's hair before disappearing into the back of the building.

⥊

  Salem was happy. For the first time in a long time, the girl was genuinely happy. She had picked out a nice outfit for her date with her father— that didn't involve a leather jacket— and was on the hunt for Lily or Dottie.

  She needed an opinion on what to do with her hair.

  But it appeared Salem was destined to never get to a date happily, as right before she stepped into the common room, familiar voices slipped out.

  "No, James."

  "Lils—"

  "No."

  Salem halted as if there was a spell keeping her out of the room, her excitement shrinking as she listened closely to the intertwined voices of James Potter and Lily Evans.

  "I just want to talk to you."

  "On Valentine's Day— coincidence?"

  "Would you just listen to me?" James snapped, sighing and rubbing his face when Lily crossed her arms tightly, "I'm sorry. I just. . . it ended all badly. I don't want to live with this. . .weighing over me."

  Lily softened just barely.

  "Then talk."

  "I was a dickhead," James said quickly, "I. . . I shouldn't have said everything I did. No, I should have, because you deserve a bloke who wants that life— where you get married, have a child— where he's sure of it. But I shouldn't have said it the way I did."

  Lily's arms had fallen to her sides, her face fallen as James clearly worked to put his thoughts into words.

  "I'm sorry that I wasn't sure of the future you wanted," James spoke gently, "And I'm sorry that we fought and you yelled and I ignored you. I loved you, Lils. I'm always gonna love you. We don't have to hate eachother just because we aren't together, right?"

  Lily said nothing, she simply hugged James tightly. But poor Salem Gerard didn't know, she heard nothing but silence. And Salem usually got the worst, so she always expected the worst, and the girl assumed too much.

  She assumed they kissed and would get back together before the day was over and James would end the nightly games and Salem would be all alone— and this was when she realized she, too, fancied James Potter.

  The jealous they bubbled angrily in her stomach, the eagerness she felt when the night crept into the day, the pang she felt every time James looked at her in the corridors.

  She liked him. And he liked Lily. And she would be all alone.

  "Gerard?"

  Salem had taken a seat on the girls' dormitory stairs, letting hours pass without care. Her date with her father wasn't until dinnertime, and only now the clock ticked to two PM.

  And the boy who had found her wasn't the one she wanted, but it seemed as though he wanted her.

  "Sirius," Salem noted, nodding at the boy, "No big plans today?"

  "I could ask you the same thing," Sirius sighed, taking a seat beside the girl.

  "I'm supposed to go out to dinner with my dad in a few hours," Salem mumbled, "Wanted to get ready. . ."

  "You look, uh, fantastic already," Sirius chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.

  "Are you daft or blind?" She asked, "My hair's horrible. Wanted to find Lily, but. . ."

  "Ah," Sirius nodded, pursing his lips, "Do I sense jealousy of the Evans and Potter friendship that's taken shape out of nowhere?"

  "No," Salem said too harshly to be true, "Dottie's on a date right now, I think."

  "Hm," Sirius tapped his fingers on his knee, scooting up two stairs.

  "Sirius—"

  "Shush, I've got to work," Sirius hushed, hands already woven into red hair.

  Salem's expression twisted into one of annoyance, her head bobbing as Sirius tucked strands over and other eachother. His fingers were thin and nimble and seemed perfectly at home in thick, long, and unruly hair.

  "Well, this isn't something I thought I'd ever see."

  Salem sunk slightly, though Sirius' knees bumping either of her shoulders somehow reassured her.

  "Jealous, Prongsie?" Sirius teased, tucking a final piece of hair down, "Want me to braid yours next?"

  "Oh, absolutely," James grinned boyishly, "Scoot your boot, Sal."

  The girl grumbled as James shoved his ass beside her, momentarily sitting on half of her leg before she was forced to the right and he met the wooden stairs.

  "You're bald, mate."

  "Oi!"

  "Compared to us?" Sirius said, hooking an arm around Salem's neck, "Gerard, you do my hair—!"

  "I obviously needed help for a reason, idiot," Salem nudged Sirius' leg, "I can't do shit to hair."

  "Your hair always looks nice."

  "Yeah, give me a famous Gerard half-updo."

  Salem's shock from James's compliment was washed away as Sirius carelessly swung his legs between the two, collapsing on the stair beneath Salem. The redhead gave James an exasperated look, earning a sideways smile before she was dragged back to Sirius.

  "Here," He smiled, passing the redhead a hair elastic, "Go to town."

  "Do you ever wash your hair?" Salem mumbled as she gathered half of Sirius's rebel locks.

  "Tomorrow I will— it's not healthy to do it every day!"

  "You're such a twat."

⥊

  Silence spilled over the Hogsmeade bench Salem and Roman had chosen to sit at. Salem had been mindlessly been shoveling raspberry kettle corn into her mouth since Roman picked it out at Honeydukes, and the man himself had been staring into a poetry book as if it was written in hieroglyphics instead of plain old English. 

  "Alright, here we go," Roman cleared his throat, "Ready?"

  "They're not riddles."

  "Of course not— I just like to hear what you think this blabbering means."

  Salem sighed and turned towards the man.

  "Alright," He cleared his throat again dramatically, "'Almost we thought from nowhere but it was the silence, the future, working.' The hell does that mean?"

  "It means that just because nothing's happening doesn't mean nothing's happening," Salem rolled her eyes, "Come on, Roman, Sandburg is just saying that silence means the world is working on your future."

  "How are you so cynical about everything but poetry?" Roman mumbled, looking down his nose, through his wire-frame glasses he'd pulled out of his front pocket.

  "I'm not cynical."

  "Sal."

  "Yeah, whatever," She huffed, crossing her arms, "Hey, can I ask you something?"

  "As long as it doesn't have to do with this book," Roman muttered, closing the paperback.

  "Why do you think my mum never told you?"

  Roman's brows knitted as he faced Salem fully, only to find she'd slowed down on her eating and become slightly more solemn. 

  "I'm not too sure, Sal," He said, "I don't want to speak for your mother."

  "Nice date," Salem announced, "First one I've ever been on."

  "You're telling me I've missed out on so much, yet somehow managed to still take you on your first date?"

  "I'm not extraordinarily popular at school," Salem laughed dryly, "So, yeah."

  And just as Roman began to ask how people could be so blind, a boy with a goofy grin and curly hair stopped in front of their bench.

  "Gerard!" He cheered, "Oi, we're all playing a friendly match of quidditch down at the pitch—"

  "Hm, Sirius," Salem cleared her throat, nodding to Roman.

  "Not too popular my arse."

  "Roman!"

  "I'm sorry," Sirius said quickly, "Another time, sorry Gerard—"

  "Nonsense, Sal, you should go," Roman nudged the redhead, "Don't let your dear old dad ruin your Valentine's day."

  Salem was shocked by the man referring to himself as a 'dad' so easily, but said nothing on the subject.

  "Sure, yeah," She mumbled, looking up at Sirius, "I don't have a broom."

  "There are extra ones in the quidditch shed," He smiled lightly, "C'mon, Gerard, let's see how good you are."

  Salem laughed, standing and stretching briefly. She had a quick and quiet conversation with Roman while Sirius mulled about, whistling to himself, until the girl joined his side.

  "So. Your dad is the barkeep at the Three Broomsticks."

  "Yes."

  Sirius nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Alright, Gerard, preferred position?"

  Salem looked to the boy with her mouth agape, eyebrows in her hairline.

  "Head out of the gutter, girl," Sirius laughed, pulling an arm around her, "Quidditch position."

  "Beater," She informed— not knowing how to feel about being so close to Sirius Black.

  "No shit," Sirius grinned, "Me too— think we can work together well enough?"

  "Only if you turn your brain on."

  "Are you suggesting my brain isn't always on?"

  "Yes, that's exactly what I'm suggesting."

  "Fair enough." 

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
how we feeling about
the sal and sirius dynamics?