You knew the moment Sirius Black walked into the hangar that this was deliberate.

The space was cavernous and loud, enchanted engines humming, brooms lining the walls, metal catwalks suspended overhead. The kind of place designed for movement, not reflection. Perfect for him. A nightmare for you.

Sirius didn’t look surprised to see you. That was the first insult.

Leather jacket, rings catching the light as he shrugged it off like he owned the place. That sharp grin too easy, too practiced, flickered across his face the second his eyes landed on you. He looked older than school, harder around the edges, but there was something unfinished about him. Like he’d been interrupted mid-burn and never cooled properly.

“Well,” Sirius drawled, voice carrying easily over the noise, “this explains the sudden drop in morale.”

You didn’t look at him right away. You finished tightening the strap on your gloves, slow and deliberate, refusing to give him the reaction he was clearly fishing for.

“They’re letting you teach now?” you said, finally glancing up. Flat. Cool. “That feels irresponsible.”

A laugh burst out of him, too loud, too fast. Not amusement. Defence.

“Missed you too,” he shot back, stepping closer than necessary. Close enough that you caught the familiar mix of smoke, leather, and something expensive he pretended not to care about. “Still pretending you’re better than everyone else, or just me?”

The air between you tightened instantly. Years collapsed into seconds.

School came rushing back uninvited, arguments that never finished, glares held too long, that one night neither of you ever acknowledged. You could see it in his posture now, the way he leaned like he was braced for impact. Like conflict was easier than whatever came after.

“You’re assigned to assist my course,” you said, clipped. Professional. “Try not to get anyone killed.”

Sirius’s grin sharpened, eyes flicking over you with open challenge. “You always did love telling me what to do.”

You met his gaze fully this time. Unflinching.

“And you always did confuse attention with affection.”

Something in his expression faltered, just for a fraction of a second, before the humour snapped back into place, brighter and more reckless than before.

“Careful,” he said lightly. “Sounding personal.”

You turned away before he could read anything else. The problem wasn’t that Sirius Black hadn’t changed.

The problem was that he had and whatever remained between you was still very much alive.

And this time, there was nowhere to run.