Oblivion ━━ Sirius Black

𝟸.𝟻 | sɴᴀᴋᴇ sᴛʏʟᴇ

Easton may have failed to properly stun Evan Rosier with a spell, but in Sirius's case her words did a marvelous job at it—he was completely frozen in place. Except he didn't look stunned. His smile was way too mischievous for that.

"Follow me," he said after some time, and without waiting for Easton to stand up, grabbed the confused Slytherin by the hand and tagged her along.

"You're not gonna tell me where we're going, are you?" she sighed, having already accepted her fate. Or it might have been the three (four?) pints of Butterbeer she'd had that made it easier for her to mindlessly comply with anything Sirius said. She'd have done it sober too though, come to think of it. "Are you gonna kill me?" she asked in a very casual way, following Sirius out of the village and towards a snowy hill atop which sat a raggedy looking cabin, "If you are, can you do it the muggle way? As a parting gift for my mother."

Sirius turned to give her an amused look, "You're loony, Greengrass," he laughed and continued walking towards the hill.

"Yeah, I know," Easton mumbled to herself.

Sirius's hand felt so warm against hers, it was almost comforting. Why wasn't she freaking out? It was an honest "freak-out-situation", the one Easton had been preparing for for the past five years, and she was absolutely calm. Was she seriously that drunk? Nope, she was hardly buzzed. Did her freakout alarm suddenly break? Nope, it was quite intact—it only took one thought about Rabastan Lestrange to make her heart tighten painfully in her chest. Oh, there it was—the familiar feeling of dread. She had missed it dearly.

By the time Easton had started properly wallowing in her sorrows, they made it to the shack, and Sirius led her towards another entrance in the back. The whole construction looked quite dangerous as if a smallest ripple of wind would send it crumbling down. Oh, well, thought Easton as she waited for Sirius to finally open the door—the task he was currently struggling with.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Remus..." he muttered under his breath.

"Need any help?"

"N-no, just a moment," Sirius sent her a bashful smile and took his wand out of the pocket of his robes. The door creaked open after a simple non-verbal spell.

Easton took a careful peek inside and then looked at Sirius, brow raised in a silent question.

"What are you waiting for? A house elf to welcome you in?" he quipped.

Easton felt her cheeks flush. Sirius opened the door a little wider.

"Get inside, princess."

The endearment sent a cold shiver down her spine. "D-don't call me that," she whispered with half-hearted annoyance and stepped inside. Sirius raised an elegant brow at her request but said nothing. He was somewhat used to her quirks at that point.

"Come on, let's go up to the lounge," Sirius drawled the last word with an exaggerated pompousness fit for her mother.

Easton was thankful for the warming charm that had been clearly cast on the inside of the shabby cabin. It was quite cozy inside if she was honest. The lounge appeared to be a decidedly small room on the second floor of the wondrous construction. It was quite dusty but strangely inviting, with a small fireplace, a dingy antique sofa that was half alive and a small, sorry-looking wooden cabinet.

It was peculiar, Easton thought, that this place felt more like home than the Greengrass Manor.

"What even is this place?"

Sirius walked over to the cabinet and opened one of the drawers. It almost fell out completely, "A sanctuary of sorts. Meant for all those who are haunted by their demons," he took out a bottle of Firewhisky, his face a biblical picture of euphoria and devotion, "Here you are, my darling."