Frigus . Sirius Black (Mortem BOOK 2)

chapter thirty-two

August 17th, 1979 - Nephera and Sirius's Home 

The raven-haired boy woke up that morning in a cold bed, something very unusual given the fact that Nephera always slept in later than him. He panicked momentarily before he remembered that today was the day she'd be starting her job at the tattoo parlor. 

The job of working the front desk in the muggle world was a definite step down from where she was working before, head of the Minister's task force, but by that point, the brunette was so bored she'd accept any job in a heartbeat. 

Fighting the urge to bury himself under the covers, he stood up with a groan, walking into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Downstairs, in the kitchen, the witch was eagerly preparing coffee for the two of them, having already run down to Julie's to pick up breakfast croissants. 

In some weird way, she was happy to work at the tattoo parlor, even if it was ridiculously easy and borderline dull. Sure, she had missed the adrenaline of missions, especially since she hadn't gone on any for the past month or so, but maybe dull was what she needed. Besides, the fact that it would be dull didn't mean it wouldn't be fun, she loved Lyla and Eliott, the two artists also working there, and there were generally no rules she had to follow. 

She was practically getting paid to hang out with two really nice people, she really couldn't afford to complain, especially since it was the only job she could get. 

Not that the money was a problem here, the Winchester vault was endless and all hers, well, relatively. After being pronounced dead, she couldn't exactly access the money in her vault, an obvious problem with a not-so-obvious solution. 

She had no living relatives- well, at least none that weren't in Azkaban- meaning that the vault was locked. Thankfully, one of the members of the Order was a lawyer, the wizarding version of one, and had helped her forge a will. The money was to be moved into Sirius's vault in Gringotts, except from three sums, that had been moved into James, Sirius, and Remus's vaults. 

She heard footsteps, and turned to the door, smiling when she saw her wizard walk through. There were a lot of things Nephera hated about the summertime, the heat, the humidity, the sweat, but there was also something very positive. That something is the fact that Sirius rarely wore a shirt inside the house, "Morning," she drawled, smiling at him 

"Someone's in a good mood," laughed the boy, accepting the mug of coffee and pressing a chaste kiss on her lips 

Contrary to Nephera, Sirius had always been a fan of summer, especially after he ran away to the Potter's in fifth-year. Now, four years later, he still loved the particular season, but for very different reasons. Mainly, the shorts his witch was wearing that morning, as well as his Queen shirt that hung off her frame, "I'm excited to finally do something again. You'd be surprised at how boring death is," she shuddered dramatically 

Sirius laughed, "That reminds me, they finally finished transporting everything into my vault in Gringotts. I need to go sign the papers today," he rubbed his forehead, "Oh fuck, and I have patrols, not to mention the fact that I've got to oversee the training... Not to mention that I need to get fitted for my robes for Prongs' wedding-" 

She cut him off by shoving a croissant in his mouth, snorting slightly when he chocked on it, "Relax," she commanded, "Signing the papers will only take a second, you know for a fact that you're excited about the fitting for James's wedding, as for training and patrols... yeah that sucks," 

It had not been an easy two months for Sirius. He may not be considered dead like his girlfriend was, but he had lost Ailani and Regulus as well, it wasn't easy to overcome that. Not to mention that he had to suffer through people offering their condolences for Nephera. One might think this wasn't such a big deal, but he had seen her die, he had seen her body hit the floor, even if it turned out to be someone else. He still saw it in his sleep, her dying, and that combined with people telling him how sorry they were she was dead almost every day was wearing down on him.