Author: Mosh
Fandom: Harry Potter

Title: Whispers
Pairing: Sirius/Harry
Rating: PG
Summary: Harry is not alone.
Disclaimer: These boys belong to J.K Rowling. No money being made, no copyright or trademark infringement intended.
A/N:I think I'm slightly obsessed with this theme. Spooky. Lots of thanks to Donna Immaculata for the beta! 350 words.

Note: You may not archive, re-post, or alter any of my stories without my permission. Please contact me first. Thanks!

It happened the night of his eighteenth birthday.

He'd gone home alone at three in the morning, slipped unsteadily out of his clothes, and got into bed with a contented, somewhat inebriated sigh. He'd almost been asleep when he'd heard a second sigh, mirroring his own, breathed right into his ear from behind.

*

It happened the day before his Auror training began.

He'd settled on the sofa in his flat, a half finished bottle of beer in one hand, the cool draft from where Ron and Hermione had left still circulating in his living room. He'd thrown his head back, closing his eyes, and at that same moment, he'd felt a hand on his shoulder, brief, but definitely a hand - he'd felt the imprint of heat from the fingertips lingering on his skin afterwards.

*

It happened as he took out the bin bags, dumping them on the pavement outside one chilly night in November. He'd straightened up, rubbing his shoulder - those bags had been heavy from the amount of empty bottles he and his friends had drained the night before. He grinned to himself.

Yes! He was an Auror now - fully fledged. Ready.

When suddenly he'd felt arms close around him from behind, warm. But they faded by the time he'd turned around. He'd sighed.

*

It happened as he lay in bed, almost six months later, a discarded newspaper strewn on the floor, the headlines blazing: Three known Death Eaters killed during Auror raid in Knockturn Alley. One name had been carefully ringed with black ink only moments before: Lestrange, Bellatrix.

He rolled over, throwing the bedcovers off, and then-

He almost felt it before it happened; he was so hyped. Lips pressed down against his neck gently, the ghost of a breath on his skin, the fall of hair around his face, a little sound, like a moan - and then a whisper, two simple words. And then it was all gone.

"You're welcome, Sirius," Harry said quietly, shivering.

And after a while he closed his eyes, finally able to sleep.

~Fin~