Eunoia | Sirius Black

|62|

Massachusetts, 1979
February 17th, windy 

February has us all holding our breath for James and Lily's wedding.

The rest of the year passed by with Sirius and I going back to our old routine. Work, eat, sex, work, eat, sex, work, eat, sex.

The new year was quite uneventful because of the guerilla warfare wizards and witches had decided to organise on Death Eaters without any Ministry supervision and that had resulted in a mass funeral.

Hundreds of casualties were found and no one felt like celebrating the holidays anymore.

Sirius and I still sent Christmas presents to our friends, however. But I don't think the feeling of Christmas was there at all.

"I don't think that's supposed to be an opening move."

I groan, "I think it's been a while and I need a guidebook again."

"You don't need a guidebook," Grandfather laughs. "You need to play chess more often and it will all be alright."

"Sirius doesn't have time." I shrug.

"You could always come around when your roommate isn't home." Grandfather does a half smile, the closest thing to a smirk for him. "You know I have a problem sleeping early, anyway."

"I'm too tired after work, grandpa," I complain. "Alastor Moody doesn't let us breathe during training and when the actual missions come up, we basically return home aching for sleep."

He frowns, "Are you sure you want this job, dove?"

"I want to be a minister someday, I told you that."

"But you can't stand in the elections until you're 19 and that's a year from now."

My birthday is in January and it passed by with a small gathering of my closest friends, we got drunk, we passed out and the next morning we were all too hungover to even say goodbye properly.

"Then I'll only have to work harder." I shrug.

"And make your name." He says. When I raise a brow, he continues, "You can't stand in elections and expect people to vote when they don't even know you - and yes, I'm aware that your last name is more than popular but its fame is for a different reason. Dove, if you don't make a name for yourself, make the people believe you're going to fight for their rights, it'll all be for nought, don't you think?"

I sigh and nod, he's right as always. Grandfather has never been wrong, at least not as long as I've known him.

"Such poison you shall not survive, though you'd hatch the door with fingers five; All known will cease to exist, all stolen will grow a rift."

I scoff, "You never tell me what it means."

"It's quite obvious if you break it down, you never put in the valiant efforts." He chuckles.

"Are you a seer like Dorea Potter?"

His eyes widen and he looks up at me, I shrug again. "I mean if one puts the valiant efforts, it's quite obvious to break down that she's a seer."

He laughs and shakes his head with amusement, "I suppose, yes. But no, I'm not a seer. I am simply prepared for the future."

Before I can ask him what he means, Marlene's shrill shouts of my name burst into my ear. I grimace and get up, "Looks like it's time to leave for the wedding."

He huffs out an exhausted breath, it hasn't escaped my notice how tired he looks every time I meet him. I offer him my arm and he generously takes it, and together we go on to the wedding venue a few yards away in the Potter's grounds.