CORVUS

Chapter six

Corvus practically had to beg to make Sirius stay in the flat.
He had been adamant on coming with him, arguing that it was his food Corvus was purchasing and that buying toast and coffee and then feeding it to your dog was socially normal. Corvus had flat out refused; one, because Dumbledore had eyes following him everywhere - he had already been interrogated by ministry officials and had had about twenty letters sent from the man himself, he did not need another reason to have Crouch and his band of merry men breaking into his apartment, thank you. Secondly, because the ministry had dementors positioned around the country, and Corvus did not feel like having both his and Sirius's soul removed from their bodies at the same time and thirdly, he wanted time to clear his head. So Sirius was locked securely in Corvus's apartment, in his animagus form.

The little coffee shop itself was a quaint little place. It was homely but cold at the same time: half dead plants hung boldly from the ceiling, which was a modern shade of grey, and Corvus thought it made them look oddly out of place. There was three tables scattered around the room, none of which were occupied and none of which actually had chairs for customers to sit in; the floor was a putrid mustard colour and a manky mini fridge was hanging onto the wall for dear life, looking as if it was one bottle of coke away from toppling over. The man who owned the place was well into his fifties, with a greying moustache but somehow a full head of ginger curls. He looked like that muggle scientist Albert Einstein, though he hadn't appreciated the compliment when Corvus had communicated his thoughts to him a couple of months ago. Thankfully, the old man had memory loss, so he hadn't held a grudge. Or at least Corvus didn't think he had.

He greeted Corvus with a snappy ''morning" and Corvus placed his order (two buttered pieces of toast and two small black coffees) before sidling off into the corner to wait for his food to be called. It's funny, how ones life plays out. When he was younger, he imagined himself to be living peacefully with three cats and a snake by 21. He had wanted to be like Newt Scamander, studying magical creatures and, most importantly, not having to sacrifice his sanity to a war effort. Now look at him. 21, on the verge of being homeless and hoarding his fugitive brother in his coffin sized apartment. Heck, he couldn't even afford to add milk to his coffee. Luxurious.

Sighing, he turned his attention to his brittle fingernails. He wondered how Remus was settling into his new job. He would never admit it, but he had grown quite accustomed to the elder wizard just appearing in his room. Sometimes, he even anticipated his stay, wanting to hear whatever stupid reason he had come up with to grace Corvus with his presence this time. Corvus wasn't stupid - he knew Remus was lonely. The poor man was living on his own in a cottage painted with nostalgia, Corvus could see why he so desperately wanted to spend as much time away from his home as he could. Corvus also knew that Remus had a pretty nasty case of survivors guilt, as well as just guilt in general, and he didn't have the heart to tell him to leave him alone. He wondered how Lupin would react to Corvus hiding his murdering ex. He imagined he would be angry, very angry. Angry Remus was scary.

He was broken out of his trance when his order was finally announced. Merlin, how long did it take to toast two pieces of bread? Rolling his eyes, the youngest Black collected his food and shoved his way out of the cafe, tripping over the stupid little ledge as he did so. By the time he got back to his apartment, he'd been gone half an hour. Honestly, he'd be surprised if his brother was actually still there. He wasn't exactly known for his ability to sit still.

Much to Corvus's relief, Sirius was indeed still there.

"You got an owl" He grumbled, pointing to a brown envelope sitting on his bed, "Scared the shit out of  me, that bird did. Almost hid under the bed."

Corvus hummed, handing Sirius his breakfast and moving to examine the letter. He never got letters unless it was from the ministry.

"Did you not get anything?" Sirius asked, wiping crumbs off his shirt.

"What?"

"Did you not get anything to eat?" Sirius reiterated slowly, "Other than the coffee, which is disgusting, by the way."

"Well, you did say to get the cheapest thing on the menu, and I already spoilt you with buttered toast." Corvus rolled his eyes, "And I ate my toast on the way back."

Corvus hated lying, but Sirius was already fusing over him like a mother hen and he didn't want to worry the poor sod. Besides, he wasn't actually hungry, and it wasn't like he could actually afford another piece of toast as it is. Merlin his life was horrible.

"I'm sorry, I never actually told you what really happened that night. You probably still think I'm a murderer!" Sirius started talking again. "Well, you see-"

"Pettigrew was the secret keeper, yes I know."

Sirius looked gobsmacked. Begrudgingly, Corvus explained how he knew that Sirius was too fond of muggles to actually hurt them, and that  it was completely out of character for him to murder the person he had sacrificed his birth family for. Sirius looked impressed, and thankfully for Corvus he didn't ask how the younger boy knew that it was Pettigrew, and not Remus or some other Order member. Corvus didn't know how he would of explained that little situation.

"Well, at least somebody had some common sense. Did you know that I didn't even get a trial? They just locked me away straight away! Even Bellatrix got a trial, and they didn't even need evidence to prove that she was insane." He huffed, dragging a bony hand over an even bonier face. "Wait, why didn't you say something? Not that there was a lot you could of said. You were what, ten?"

Corvus sighed. "I was eight. Mother almost had a heart attack when she heard, and it wasn't because she was angry. She told everybody for weeks that it was her doing, blowing that street up. She kept boasting that her words had finally affected you. Even I knew that she was milking it."

"Horrid woman." Sirius snarled. "Can't wait until she's gone so that I can vandalise her stupid grave with a stupid picture of my face."

"She's already dead, Sirius." Corvus sighed again (he seemed to be doing that a lot, recently), "Has been for eight years."

"You're joking!" Sirius looked as if Crouch had just announced that he was a free man. "That's like, the best news I've heard since I was sorted into Gryffindor! Eight years ago...you were ten? Where have you been living? On your own?"

"Sirius." Corvus said, massaging his temples, "I am twenty one years old. I was thirteen."

Sirius choked on his coffee. "You're twenty one?"

"Yes."

"What!" He almost looked pained. "How-....what?"

Corvus smirked sadly. "You have a lot to catch up on, mate."