Time Astral | Sirius Black

35||The Meeting

August 11th, 1996

Noon bled into evening and chirruping of birds started outside the tainted windows. There was a briny wind as if it had floated all the way from the Celtic sea. The breeze bought in vivid visions of sand, of turquoise water and shrieking laughter. It felt as though there was no Burrow, no Ottery St Catchpole anymore and there was only the coast and only an immortal sense of aura as if it were Persephone herself planting poppies in the barren sand.

There was an utter urge to disappear with that gale, to merge with it and see for yourself, becoming the plaything of immortals as you relish the feel of clear water on your blistered feet. But woe, there was no such thing happening in reality. There was no such vanishing, only the want for it. Only the wishes. 

And there were too many, too many hopes and too many dreamers. In the souls, the Earth didn't move, it remained still while trinkets of desires emitted, glowing like a halo on each human's head. It was the utter knowing, the realisation that death might come at any moment that made them truly afraid. And every other could see that halo, could know that another was as afraid as they were. 

That they were not alone. 

For they had faith in one another, however foolish it seemed. They trusted even the worse of humans, only because they had no choice. And anything, was better than the greater evil. 

Sirius had been in the very, very cold shower for two hours now. 

When he'd gotten out, it was dusk and in a matter of minutes, twenty or so, there would be a meeting.

One for which his fiancé, would not be present. 

He made his way downstairs in his navy shirt, black vest, Emerald long jacket and boots. His silver pocket watch Alasia had gifted him for his birthday was tied to his hand, as always and the one rhythm necklace was around his neck now that he'd given the other to his witch. 

He knew he shouldn't be angry that she's decided to do missions once again, and he might even come off as controlling - which he absolutely was not trying to be. But still, it hasn't even been longer than a few months since he'd gotten her back and every time she was out of view, his heart would begin thundering. 

And it was happening, indeed. As he went down the stairway, he had to stop and put a hand against his heart, had to think again and again that she was alright, she was okay. 

And yet, when he started thudding towards the living room, there were dots of sweat on his forehead. She'd said she won't be back until after the meeting, he should trust her.

He did trust her. Whom he didn't trust was Tom Riddle who had turned out to be her father. Merlin, he should get a grip - he was 36 years of age for fuck's sake. 

And he was about to be married, someday. He couldn't just go on, pleading for her to remain in front of him forever. Alasia was the strongest person he'd ever encountered and yet, yet he had that utter male protectiveness clouding his eyes. 

Though he'd rather stay quiet than say anything to her, he wasn't a controlling person, no matter how territorial or possessive. 

He sighed, forcing himself to focus as he apparated to the Headquarters, Number 12, Grimmauld Place,  possibly late to the meeting. 

He crossed the road towards his family house, and it appeared to shove its neighbouring houses out of the way as it appeared between them. The place, previously luxurious and elegant, now had a worn set of front steps leading to a battered front door. 

There was a silver knocker in the shape of a twisted serpent which oddly reminded him of Alasia's moving tattoo, but it had no keyhole, handle, or anything else that would indicate it to be a door, as it opened only by magic.