they were cute, in that weird sort of way that makes everyone else uncomfortable. they did weird things like sit on each other's lap, or lick the other's face. i'm all for 'to each his own,' but licking your boyfriend's face and then the two of you...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
August 1995 Number 12 Grimmauld Place
Sirius sat in a broken chair, just listening. It was still strange to him to be around so many people. He could not decide if it was strange to be around people or if it was that they were happy people. In Azkaban he had been so alone, with only the dementors and the howling of the soulless. And after that, he had been on the run. It had been him and Buckbeak. The hippogriff was never much of a talker. Now, however, he could never find silence. The last time Sirius could remember this kind of chatter was from before the first war, back when things were good.
As much as Sirius loved having his godson around, seeing Harry could sometimes be the most painful. Daily he would catch himself referring to the boy as James. It was a good thing the boy would be heading back to Hogwarts shortly. Sirius needed time to come back to grips with himself and the horrid state of life after the war.
Speaking of Harry, Mad-eye had him cornered and Sirius could hear them if he focused.
"-budge along, budge along," Sirius wondered what the old bat was on about. "That's Dumbledore's brother Aberforth, only time I ever met him, strange bloke."
Sirius knew then. It was that old picture. The one the order had taken a few days before Marlene's birthday. That had been a happy day.
Moody was moving to the next person and Sirius' heart froze. "Dorcas Meadows, Voldemort killed her personally."
Sirius could not breath. Dorcas, her name, he could not bare to hear it. He could have strangled moody for letting it pass his lips. Dorcas had been too good for this pathetic world, no wonder he had loved her.
"Sirius," the sound of his name drew his attention back to them. "-when he still had short hair... and ... there you go, thought that would interest you." Sirius knew who that would be. James had been on his other side. Harry, the poor boy looked ill.
Sirius heaved himself up from the chair. Deftly he wove through the people crowded in his kitchen.
"What's that you've got there Mad-eye?" Moody's magical eye whizzed to Sirius' face at his words. It did not remain there long, however, as it followed Harry's retreating form.
"Ah I found it in some of my old stuff." Moody handed Sirius the photograph. "You remember taking it, don't you?"
"Yes indeed." Sirius' voice was low and detached, he had seen her eyes. They were so clear, so bright as they stared up at him. She had been so happy that day. He remembered it so well...
