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“Please, please, please, let me, Sirius.” Lily begs, pulling on Sirius’ arm, almost tugging her off the couch. She’d been asking to paint Sirius’ nails for weeks, using a barrage of different tactics to convince her: Flattery, bargaining, pestering, guilt tripping, bullying, reverse psychology, and has finally resorted to begging. And Sirius has to admit, Lily’s wearing her down. Lily’s nothing if not stubborn, though she prefers persistent.
Sirius glances back at James, whose lap she’s sitting on, silently asking what he thinks. In the rare instances that she seeks out the input of others, it will always be his. James just shrugs at her, indifferent for once in his life. If he doesn’t think it’ll be weird, Sirius figures it only will be if she makes it. There’s just the question of why her. Why is she the one Lily singles out? James is the only one Sirius has told and vice versa. She chooses to end that train of thought as soon as it starts, forcing herself back into the present.
“Fine. But only black.” She concedes, pushing Lily off her arm with a grimace. Lily jumps up with a triumphant grin and runs up the stairs to her dorm.
“I should’ve said no, her ego is only going to get bigger.” Sirius mutters loudly, grinning at the eyerolls from her friends. They can claim she’s the one with the ego all they want, Sirius knows she’s just confident. She leans back against James' chest, exhaling a heavy breath disguised as boredom. She’s excited but mostly nervous. There’s something Sirius loves about jumping into something she’s never done before and hoping for the best, but she still has the nagging concerns that made her say no to Lily in the first place in a show of false fragile masculinity. What if she doesn’t like it? What if she’s wrong or what if it doesn’t suit her? What if she’s not meant for all this, not meant to be a girl? Or what if others think it's weird? What if they ask questions?
James runs his hands through Sirius’ hair, gently scratching at her scalp. The sensation breaks her from the spiral she hadn’t realized she started. When James notices Sirius has started overthinking something he always tries to discreetly ground her. How he can tell, Sirius has yet to figure out, she tends to look very aloof regardless of what she’s really thinking.
Lily comes bustling back down from her dorm with Mary’s basket full of nail polishes, sitting down on the floor and pulling out the black options.
“Which one do you want?” She asks, when they’re set out.
“What’s the difference?” Sirius asks, feigning nonchalance.
“Shade, opacity, this one had silver glitter in it-”
“I want that one.” Sirius tells her immediately, making James laugh, he probably knew which one she’d pick. Sirius pushes herself off of his lap and sits down across from Lily on the floor.
“Ready?” Lily asks, smiling. When she gets a nod, Lily takes Sirius’ hand, holdinging the nail polish brush in the other. Sirius almost wants to yell “STOP” before Lily starts, but she refrains and the polish goes on. And it’s…fine. The world doesn’t stop spinning, the roof doesn’t collapse, nobody suddenly turns around and calls her a freak. Lily just sticks out her tongue in concentration and puts the polish on while Sirius tries not to grimace at the wet, cold feeling of it.
“Now just don’t touch anything while it dries!” Lily tells her when she’s finished, screwing the cap back on the bottle. Sirius looks down at her hands, and smiles. She likes it. It doesn’t feel wrong or look out of place. She just looks like she painted her nails like any other girl would. It almost looks like a starry sky, solid black, only interrupted by flecks of silver. It’s beautiful.
“Thank you, Lils.” Sirius says softly, unable to look away from her nails.
“Of course, it looks great! Suits you, just like I knew it would. Maybe next time it won’t take weeks of convincing.”
“Maybe.” Sirius says, finally grinning back at her, and when meeting her eyes she knows Lily was being genuine.
********
Sirius slams down the eyeliner pencil, glaring at herself in the mirror while kicking her socked feet against the bathroom mirror, trying not to fall off the counter she's precariously sitting on between her scattered stolen goods. And by ‘goods’ she means the most frustrating thing to ever disgrace her bathroom and her face. She’s running out of time until Marlene goes on another rampage and finds her stolen makeup supplies with Sirius. When Sirius had taken it she thought it was Mary’s, who was more likely to drop an issue. But not Marlene.
Sirius had been hanging out with James in his dorm, they’d thrown pillows across the stairs so Sirius could hop up without it turning into a slide. While in his bathroom Sirius had spotted makeup supplies left out for anyone to take, really. Some eyeshadow pallets, lig glosses, eyeliners, the likes. She’d shoved some in her waistband without thinking too hard about it. Sirius had always been a bit of a kleptomaniac, loving the rush from slipping something that didn’t belong to her in her pocket or under her shirt. Nobody ever stopped her if they saw, who would have the gall? At least that was the case in the wizarding world, she’s had to slip out of a few muggle cops’ grips during her summers spent climbing out of her bedroom window to find some semblance of freedom and a lot of trouble. Right after her suspiciously long bathroom break and theft, Sirius had claimed a stomach ache, rushing to go and hide her newly acquired supplies. She has the best poker face and hiding places, hence why Marlene’s rampages through her friends’ dorms have done no good.
Since then, Sirius has been stumbling through learning to apply the makeup. At first she hated it, hated not being good at something, but as she practiced she was doing better and better. Learning how to apply eyeshadow on her hooded eyelids was the first milestone. Nights like this, she almost wishes she had just asked Lily or Marlene to teach her but she’d also rather die. Instead it's silent crash outs between the hours of 11pm to 5am while her dormmates are asleep. What's causing her grief now is that she can’t get her eyeliner wings to be level or even properly placed. Everyone else can do it, she knows that for a fact. Lily with her subtle puppy eyeliner in a soft brown that brings out her eyes, Mary with her experimental and colorful graphic liner looks that draws eyes, Marlene and her bold cat eye sharp enough to kill a man, Dorcas with her white and gold liners that stand out brilliantly against her skin. If they can, then why can’t Sirius accomplish it?
Sirius kicks the mirror over and over again, knowing it won’t break thanks to her thick socks. She almost wishes it would, wishes she was wearing her boots that would smash it into a million pieces like in the movies. Shatter towards her, cutting her apart and putting her back together in a way that fits, a way that makes sense, leaving the parts that don’t abandoned and bloody on the bathroom floor.
“Get it together.” Sirius mumbles to herself, running her hands through her hair, roughly scratching at her scalp to ground herself.
She picks back up the pencil with a steadier hand than before, determined to get this right, but looking at her hand gives her an idea instead. She brings the pointer finger of her dominant hand to the outer corner of her eye, pulling it out like she would applying the actual eyeliner. She grins, drawing a line of the pencil liner on her finger along where it had touched where she wanted the wing to be on her face, praying this would work. Bringing her finger back to her eye and dragging it out, it did work! Sirius did the same on the other side with her other hand and when she looked in the mirror… it was almost exactly what she wanted, what she had imagined. She fixed up the eyeliner wings a little before looking at it as a whole. The silver eyeliner sparkling subtly from her eyelids; the wings of the liner almost perfectly placed and the eyeliner on her waterline framing her dark eyes; her lip gloss shining on her lips, highlighting a pimple right above her upper lip in a way she loved, the chemical, cherry scent filling her nostrils and making her a little woozy- or maybe that was the sleep deprivation. It was messy and bold, improper and imperfect, but so very her. She felt beautiful. Maybe now she’d return Marlene’s makeup.
Or maybe she wouldn’t.
*******
Sirius and James walk down the busy muggle street together, clutching each other's hands like one of them is going to disappear at any second. It wasn’t their first time shopping in a muggle store but they hadn’t done it like this. They’d talked about it months ago, in the middle of the night under a tree by the Great Lake, talking about all the things they wanted to do. All the things they couldn’t. All the things they never wanted to do again. James? He wanted to cut all his hair off. He wanted to grow six inches overnight. He never wanted to go bathing suit shopping again. Sirius? She wanted to exist in female spaces without feeling like an intruder, to walk through the women’s section at a store and feel like she’s allowed to be there. She wanted everyone’s perception of her to miraculously change. She never wanted to be called a ‘handsome young man’ again.
Most of their ostensibly joked dreams weren’t tangible yet but they figured they could knock one out safely, just the two of them. It was James' idea, he’d burst into Sirius’s dorm and pulled her into the bathroom with silencing charms. He’d grabbed both Sirius’ arms, shaking her with excited eyes, bright like they always are when he’s solved something. “I had a realization! You wanted to look through the women’s section without feeling weird, I’d like to look through the mens. Why don't we just sneak out next Hogsmeade weekend to a muggle store and shop together? That way it doesn’t look weird!”
Easier said than done apparently, they'd almost chickened out when Marlene asked if they were going to meet everyone at The Three Broomsticks but decided to stick to their original plan. Not that they told Marlene what they were up to. Disappearing together for a Hogsmeade weekend probably wasn’t helping the dating rumors but they’d never bothered to change their behavior to dissuade people. Couldn’t a girl and a boy just be friends? Did it always have to be romantic? Plus, Sirius knew James probably would never be attracted to her anyway so it didn't matter. It didn’t matter at all.
The automatic doors slide open for them as they walk in, the smell of air freshener and terrible pop music over speakers attacking their senses.
“I love muggle shops!” Sirius lets go of James’ hand to make him smell the worst candles known to man on a tacky display by the entrance. James grabs a few to ‘gift’ to Peter and Remus when they get back.
“Which do you want to do first?” James asked, taking Sirius’ hand back in his, looking at her with his usual goofy smile, but nervous around the edges. Sirius can tell he wants to do the men’s section first but doesn’t feel right asking, this was all very new for both of them. Even James, who usually has the braze to do and say what he wants without hesitation or consideration, is feeling the nerves. Or maybe he was leaning tact, but probably the former.
“Let’s do men’s first.” Sirius says, leading James towards the section.
James looks at everything, feels the thickness on the jackets and pants, asks a million questions about the sizing charts, complains about the lack of belts and shoes in smaller sizes. Regardless of the store being practically empty, Sirius carries everything James wants to buy so it looks like they are shopping for her. James was having the time of his life, babbling about the differences in the clothing from the women’s section, cheeks flushed and ponytail loose and messy from excitement and shoving shirts over his head. Sirius thinks he looks gorgeous but he probably knows that so she doesn’t tell him.
When James has his fill, they start making their way over to the women’s section. All she can hear is her heart in her chest, getting louder as they get closer and closer. She knows she’s being ridiculous but it just feels wrong. Like she doesn’t belong there. Like she’s invading. But following that logic, does that mean James wasn’t meant in the men’s section? The section where he looked so comfortable? Excited? Like he belonged there? No, Sirius reasoned if James is allowed to shop in the men’s section, she can shop in the women’s. It’s fine.
Sirius smiles when they get there, running her finger over the materials as she walks. Smooth but not like the men’s sports sections. Ruffles and floral prints and bedazzled tops and shoes that didn’t look like they belonged to a 40 year old man or middle schoolers!
“Okay, maybe this is a little fun…” Sirius says, pulling tops off the rack to look at closer.
“And you haven’t even tried anything on!” James laughs, before seeking out the sports section. He needs more shirts for quidditch practices. James leaving Sirius to her own devices helps her relax a bit, not that James makes her uncomfortable but she prefers to take new situations in on her own to gather her thoughts and react privately. She doesn’t know where to start. She's always liked crop tops but she doesn’t feel comfortable enough yet. She decides to start small, jeans with subtle patterns like stars or flowers, cute belts, baggier tops with feminine designs or small enough to only ride up slightly, simple shoes with only slight heels, V necks, bags that could be considered unisex-. She grabs some riskier stuff to keep until she thinks she’s ready to try them. When James comes back over they trade arm loads and grin at each other, Sirius’ arms full of men’s clothing and James’ full of women’s but feeling more comfortable in their bodies than they had in a long time.
A woman laughs passing by, looking at Sirius with her arms full of clothes, "You're a good, good boyfriend,” she says, putting her hand on Sirius' shoulder briefly and shaking her hand with an amused smile before moving on.
Sirius just forces a smile, not bothering to correct her.
*******
“JAMES!”
“What!?” James asks, poking his head into the bathroom, walking in when Sirius beckons. She’s standing in front of their bathroom counter, looking at herself in the mirror. James had been studying in their kitchen, like she should be doing, but one of their flat’s biggest perks is that they can call each other's names and be heard from any of the small rooms. They both have a major test coming up but Sirius has a bigger revelation to deal with right now than a test she hadn’t studied for. She’s confident she’ll pass anyway.
“Look at my hair.” She tells James, frowning into the mirror, ruffling the ends of her hair.
“Yeah, it’s getting long!” James grins, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, poking his head around her neck to look at them in the mirror together.
“Yeah..” Sirius grins back, “But not that. It looks fucking… curly.” Sirius points out, reverting back to her frown.
“Okay? It’s been curling at the ends for over a month, Sirius.” James laughs, raising his eyebrows at her in the mirror. She reckons that ‘Sirius’ really meant ‘dumbass’.
“Oh fuck off, I thought it was at an awkward growing length!” Sirius complains, lacing her fingers with his, “Do you think it was always curly and too short to tell? Or maybe my hormones?”
“Does that happen?” James asks, subconsciously glancing at his own short curls. They had both started hormones a handful of months prior, socially transitioning at the same time after moving to a new city to start over and study at a muggle university. It felt easiest to leave the wizarding world for a while, explore other options for themselves, explore their gender identities, explore their relationship, all without worrying about judgement from their friends and the general public.
“I mean it’s definitely a possibility but it feels early to have my hair change drastically. But I am on a fairly high dose and my body hair has already changed quite a bit” Sirius says, running her finger through her hair fully now, softening to the idea of it changing. Before transitioning, Sirius had spent weeks researching all the twists and turns, options, and people’s stories when it came to transitioning in preparation. She has always hated when something catches her off guard or she can’t find a straight answer, hates when she can't control something uncontrollable. One of those things was when her hormones started making her lose muscle mass in the first few months of transitioning, she still feels like she has to work twice as hard to gain and maintain her strength as she did before.
“Do either of your parents have curls?” James asks her.
“Walburga. But she always straightened it, to look more put together I think. Bellatrix was the only one who didn’t and everyone always had something to say about it.”
“Well of course, hair directly corresponds with personality, haven’t you heard?” James scoffs, rolling his eyes. One of their favorite past times is mocking the pureblood ideologies they both grew up with to some extent.
Sirius laughs before growing somber again. “James, I have no idea how to do this shit.”
“Which shit in particular?” James asks her, matching her energy. When either of them feels the need to truly admit they don’t know how to do something, the other knows it’s serious.
“I don’t know how to take care of curly hair! I mean, I see all the crap you do to take care of yours. I wouldn’t know where to start.” She mutters the last part but still loud enough for James to catch it.
“I’ll teach you, problem solved.” James tells her like it’s obvious. It probably is in his mind, James has always been good and bright in a way Sirius just isn’t, never has been and never will be. It’s one of the things she loves about him, the way he looks at her like she’s worth something, deserving of his doting. It’s one of the things that sickens her to think about, knowing she will one day let him down.
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll figure it out.” She tells him, giving him a confident look, on the edge of arrogance.
“But I want to!” James tells her, “Come on, I let you cut my hair for me, let me teach you how to do yours!” He bats his eyelashes at her obnoxiously with his trademark prankster grin he’d been sporting since Hogwarts.
“That was terrible, we had to get Mum to fix that.” Sirius sighs, shaking her head at the memory.
“But it was fun! This can be fun too if we make it, it doesn’t have to be stressful because it’s new.” James says, kissing her shoulder gently around her tank top strap, making his way towards her face.
“Okay, fine.” Sirius cedes, relieved she doesn’t have to figure this out alone, as small as it might seem it’s still less daunting knowing James will be there.
“Yes!” He cheers, adjusting himself to kiss Sirius’ mouth instead. “Now that that’s settled…” He murmurs between kisses, resting their foreheads together.
“Yeah?” Sirius grins, closing her eyes and leaning into her boyfriend.
“Why don’t you say we go study now!”
“Oh, FUCK NO!”
*****
Sirius can confidently say this is the coziest her flat has ever felt. All her friends gathered in their living room, moonlight shining in from the windows, James tucked under her arm. She and James are by no means interior decorators, their flat's furnishings consisting of random Ikea furniture shoved wherever it looked alright, for decor is whatever bullshit Sirius picks up at markets or pictures and posters James acquires. But with their friends filling up the empty spaces, everything feels cozier and warm. It almost makes Sirius miss Hogwarts. Almost.
Peter finishes his story, punctuated with laughter from the group while Sirius takes them all in: Marlene and Lily squashed onto the only armchair together, Mary and Remus on kitchen chairs that James had dragged over for them to sit on, Peter settled on the floor next to the coffee table, Dorcas next to James on the couch him and Sirius are sitting on. It’s wonderful to see everyone again, it’s been months since she and James had seen their faces and vice versa. Their friends had surprised them with a visit, showing up at their door with pizza and a determination to see them. She’s had so much fun with them it makes Sirius feel a little guilty that she'd practically disappeared at all. As good as it is to see them, it is giving her imposter syndrome, but it’s ignorable in the fun.
“NO! Not you too!” James groans, watching Marlene blow smoke out of her mouth, filling the air with the artificial sour raspberry smell of her vape. Sirius leans over to fist bump her, smirking at James.
“Ridiculous. Come on, you’re an athlete.” James complains to Marlene.
“”Not anymore, motherfucker.” Marlene grins.
“Don’t worry he bullies me too,” Sirius tells her, mock side eyeing James. If anyone takes health and fitness seriously, it’s James.
“No way!” Lily protests, laughing, “Sirius gets away with all the stuff you can't stand others doing! She’s your exception, the lonely outlier.” She insists, raising her eyebrow at James; protests.
Sirius hides her smile behind a sip of her drink, a warm feeling in her chest. Something about Lily so casually using her pronouns in the group setting gets to her, in agood way. She can’t quite explain it. She's been passing for months, so it wasn’t the pronouns themselves, it was the casualty of it coming from someone who knew her pre-transition. The normality of the action.
“Lonely! More like privileged!” James jokes, giving up on denying the claim. Lily’s right of course, they’ve always been eachother exception to any rules or morals. If Sirius does it it’s fine, and if James does it, it’s fine. Shoplifting? Valid. Vandalism? Hilarious! Murder? You goof.
“Glad to be!” Sirius laughs, kissing James’ forehead, another thing that’s just a reality now, even among company. LIfe is good.
*****
“Oh, let’s go in there!” James points, directing Sirius’ attention to a clothing storefront on the street they’re walking down.
“Yessir!” Sirius grins, needing no convincing. She pulls them through the crowded sidewalk to the moderately empty store. One thing that suffered in particular when they moved to the city was their closet space and clothing budget. She pushes the door open, promoting the bell to jingle, taking in the smell of weed and febreeze and… shoes probably. They walk down the rows together, running their fingers through the racks of clothes as they go. Shopping is still one of their favorite date activities from before they got together. There’s always something new to find, style to explore, place to find, texture to feel, choice to mock. Sirius has found she quite enjoys expressing herself with clothing, finding what she likes or dressing to match her mood. One thing about girls is they can look different day to day.
She pulls a tank top off the rack, turning around to show James, “This is cute! It’ll show off most of my tattoos.”
James smiles and rolls his eyes at her typical comment, it’s always about showing off her tattoos or muscles. The necessities. James isn’t any better, always looking for shirts that make him feel masculine while showing off his belly button piercing. Thankfully, James never finds it very hard, comfortable enough in his masculinity. Sirius used to be envious of how comfortable he seemed in his gender identity.
They take their time exploring the whole store, touching every piece of clothing at least once, trying on a million things, probably driving the workers crazy. They’ll make sure to tip well. When you attract (or create) trouble the way they tend to do, tipping becomes a good habit.
Sirius goes into the changing room one last time to try on one piece she had had her eye on the whole shopping trip. A black leather mini skirt that she could probably put with anything in her closet. She shucks off her boots and heavy cargo pants, throwing them on the chair in the corner of the stall. Slipping on the skirt, she stifles a laugh at her appearance. Mini skirt, cropped band tee, messy makeup look, long dark curls falling in her face, all tied together by her cat socks. Yeah. She looks fucking hot.