& -- sirius black.

Kingsley grinned as Sirius filled the glass easily. “Can’t even know how many people in here you have drink orders memorized for?” he asked as he listed the shot glass. He raised it in a quick toast and knocked it back quickly. Setting the glass back on the bar, he leaned forward. Even without looking around, he knew that several people watching him had just relaxed. He felt it in the air, but Kingsley also knew the routine of what it looked like when he came in here. They didn’t like Ministry folks around, but if he was drinking with them, he got a small pass.

Without much fanfare, he launched into a story about the most harmless parts of his day. He’d figured out the careful balance between between confidentiality and entertainment a while ago, and it let him have something harmless to tune people out first when he stopped to see Sirius. If it seemed like just friends chatting about their days, people stopped caring.

Sirius grinned easily - once, he’d thought that would be impossible without James, but he’d gotten on, for Harry... for Lily - and shrugged. “We’ve got a lot of regulars,” Sirius said. “My brain’s a steel trap. How else ya think I passed Hogwarts? Sure as hell didn’t study.” Sirius poured his own shot to raise back to Kingsley and downed it along with the older man. It was only polite.

Kingsley told a story that didn’t really matter, but that was the routine with them. If Sirius was going to work both sides, then he had to be good at it. He couldn’t seem like he was on the Ministry’s side - because he wasn’t - but he also couldn’t not have Kingsley’s help on these. They both knew what the usual meant... if people asked in a specific way, it was the stash under Sirius’ bar. He wasn’t a dealer exactly - but the pub held the potions as a middle man. 

“Alright, what ya gonna do if I tell you how many, then?” Sirius asked lowly, leaning forward. “‘Cause if you’re here to bust, then no one has asked. If you’ve got information for me, though...” 

Narcissa’s teeth bared in as much a grimace as a smile. “You don’t know much about me or my preferences.” Technically she had started this conversation, and the need to be polite was high. But oh, that was difficult with someone like Sirius. Whatever he may think, though, Narcissa did not like anything to do with torture. It was the kind of gross discomfort she was glad to have far away from her family now, but even during the war, she’d never actually used her wand on someone like that.

When he looked to Draco, Narcissa stepped between them. While she hated herself for that display, she kept her face firm. “I should think you would remember when he’s the same age as the Potter brat.” At least he’d remembered. At least he’d used the right pronouns and hadn’t tried to use her son’s identity as a weapon. Still, calling the Potter boy a brat had probably been an incorrect decision. She couldn’t even call it a calculation when she’d spoken on instinct. 

“If you don’t care to shop here and clearly don’t care to speak to me, why are you still here?” she sneered. Narcissa knew the longer they talked, the more likely she was to say things she would regret.

.

Sirius didn’t miss the way Narcissa put her body between him and her son - protecting precious Draco. The child looked up at the movement of his mother, eyeing Sirius for a moment until Narcissa blocked him from view. It gave a weird pang in Sirius’ heart... just for a moment, missing this idea of family. But then Narcissa brought up Harry and Sirius remembered - he did have a family. And she wasn’t it.

His eyes narrowed at the word brat in relationship to Harry, but of course, that was what Narcissa wanted. “Don’t pretend you know anything about Harry,” he growled lowly, a bit of Padfoot coming out. “Though, you clearly know a lot about brats.”

They stared at one another for a long moment before he quickly stepped back, the hot air around them suddenly cool. “Good question,” he said. “Should’ve known how this family chat would turn out, right, cousin? Enjoy your jewels.” From his current place, his eyes shifted to Draco once more, who was looking up at them with a wide gaze. Shit. He didn’t have to get angry in front of the kid. What’s done was done...

He quickly turned away from Narcissa and made his way back into the crowd.

Lily resisted the urge to roll her eyes, because Sirius was right. It wasn’t really a question, and she would have put up a fight if he had denied her request. She didn’t want to have to wait up for him tonight, not when she finally had the chance to go to bed early for once, and she had a few choice words for him about Remus that would be better served spoken in a public place rather than the privacy of their own home. 

She followed him outside, glad for a chance to get out of the dark, smoky bar, frowning as he lit up a cigarette. He should know how she felt about those, but she supposed that she couldn’t exactly scold him for choosing to endanger himself, so long as it wasn’t around her son or in her (their) home. 

“That’s actually what I needed to talk to you about,” Lily answered, leaning against the opposite wall to stare at him. She was struck with a desire to recapture the playfulness that had once existed in their relationship, but Lily had no idea how to go back to that. Without James, Lily had no idea how to go back to the way things were in any of her relationships. “He’s staying with the Weasley’s tonight. I need to go into work early tomorrow, so I was wondering if you’d be able to pick him up.” 

Sirius noticed the frown on Lily’s lips, but he didn’t comment, turning his head slightly away from her to let the smoke billow upwards away from her. He wasn’t cruel - but she also couldn’t tell him what to do outside her house, either. Whenever they were home, he went outside! Wasn’t that enough?

Lily opened up the conversation like it was some big revel - he’d assumed an argument, based on her expression when she’d told him to take the break. But then just said Harry was staying over at the Weasleys. Okay... so? Sirius put the cigarette between his lips against and scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, okay? And...?” he said around the cigarette before taking a drag.

He gave her a look. “You didn’t come here to tell me that - you would’ve left me a note. So what’s the real problem?” They’d been one another’s support for so long that it felt like he almost knew her better than himself. A weird sentiment, since Lily was James’ girl. 

His whole life, Moody had preferred solitude to the company of others. When he had been growing up, he’d spent most of his time learning from his mother and father. The spare time that he had, he spent with his nose in a book. It wasn’t much of a surprise that he went off to Hogwarts and had subpar social skills. When he’d met Minerva, she’d brought him a little bit out of his shell, but not by much. He could carry a conversation, but he didn’t particularly enjoy doing so. She was truthfully one of the only people he liked talking to. He could tolerate few others, but that list was a short one. Now - he still preferred solitude, but he’d warmed slightly to being around others in the ways of training and the Order. 

Sirius Black was on the list of the people that Alastor could tolerate, lucky for him. That was why he relaxed slightly when Sirius slid into the seat next to him without invitation. Black never looked for an invitation. Moody rolled his eyes at the boy’s words, but retorted, “Mate, I’ll be in the ground before you ever hear those words come out of my lips.” It was a joke, but Alastor’s seriousness made it fall short and most wouldn’t understand his sense of humour. 

As annoying as the kid could be, he was smart. He knew not to touch the untouched drink without Alastor’s expressed permission first. Alastor found this the most amusing thing he’d seen all night. He didn’t respond; he only pushed the drink towards Black once he mentioned the project. Alastor tilted his head towards the side. “I’m listening.” 

Sirius grinned. “Well, once you croak, I’m gonna hold ya to that, kay?” he said easily. “I expect a letter with those words right on top of your body.” He didn’t say If you die before me because, really, Alastor was an old, paranoid Auror. If he out-survived Sirius, even with all of Sirius’ dangerous late-night activities, he figured they’d both be surprised.

There was about a fifty percent chance that Moody would actually let Sirius have the drink and they stared at one another for a moment too long before he slid it over. Sirius chuckled. “Good move, mate. Liquor should never go to waste.” He took a long drink of the pint and gave Moody a look. “If I’m poisoned ‘cause of this, you can tell me I told you so.”

Alastor turned serious - well, he was always serious, but the conversation went with him - and Sirius leaned in, once elbow on the bar. “Heard from a source that the cup might’ve been at Borgin’s for awhile. Isn’t there anymore,” he said quickly before Alastor could ask. “Already checked. But that’s two sources that say they’ve seen it. It’s not hidden, like the necklace was.” 

Perhaps Mary should have known better than to expect a warm reception ( or even a mildly civil one ), but she can’t help but flinch back at Sirius’ words. Despite the constant mantra drumming through her head that she had done the right thing, it still hurts to have her decisions thrown back in her face, to be reminded of everything she had that her friends didn’t, because she’d made the decision to prioritise herself over the cause.

They saw her as selfish, as cowardly – and perhaps they were right, but part of her ( a buried, angry part ) wants to scream that they haven’t even tried to understand things from her point of view. That after being attacked for simply existing as a muggleborn in a place that was supposed to be safe, Mary didn’t have much fight left in her. That, maybe, if they had done the same, the war wouldn’t have taken so much from them. 

She doesn’t say these things, though. Instead, she casts her eyes down, shaking her head softly and very purposely avoiding Sirius’ gaze. “Of course I care.” She says quietly, “I know you all hate me for not being there, and I don’t know how many times I can say that I’m sorry – but I’m not going to be made to feel bad that my daughters are safe and happy and still have both of their parents. You don’t get to drag them into this.”

For a moment, Sirius saw a bit of the old Mary - the Mary from Gryffindor, who would’ve never backed down to someone speaking to her like this. But then... she stepped away from the fight, as she always did. It made Sirius want to laugh - a coward. Couldn’t even argue with who was one their friend? 

“It’s not hate,” he said honestly. He didn’t hate her - just felt anger for her, bitter that she got to live peacefully off their sacrifices. Off the sacrifices of James. Their lives were all changed by the war and she got to benefit from their trauma. “It’s pity. Pity that you don’t have enough bravery to stand up for what’s right.”

Date: October 8, 1986 Location: The Flaming Dragon Starter: @caniicula​

Kingsley glanced around the bar briefly as he came in, but it was to figure out if he needed to watch his back rather than as an auror looking for trouble. Kingsley didn’t want any, and he hoped he wouldn’t get any as he took a seat at the bar. It was hard to find time to talk to friends these days. How was that possible when they should have more time available? Then again, Kingsley wasn’t necessarily sure if friend was the best term for Sirius, but he didn’t know what else to say. They weren’t colleagues exactly and in some ways had become more than that over the past few years any, but he supposed friend would have to do.

“How many guys have asked you for ‘the usual’ tonight?” he asked Sirius’ back from where he was reaching for a shelf.

Sirius didn’t notice Kingsley walk into the bar, but that was because it was a rather busy night. Not to mention - people paid good money for overpriced drinks for him not to look. It might’ve been an odd sight, seeing an Auror at the Flaming Dragon, but Kingsley was more a regular than most Ministry workers... thanks to his work with Sirius. He wasn’t wearing the robes, either, which was a good call. People in this place didn’t typically react kindly to a wix in uniform.

Sirius smirked as he saw his old friend and placed a shot glass on the bar, pulling up Kingsley’s favorite and pouring it without asking. As he slid it across the bar to him, Sirius said, “Depends on who’s asking.”

date: 5 october 1986 location: the bar where sirius works status: closed for @caniicula

Lily hated the bar where Sirius worked, but she tried not to gripe at him about it – partially because of how much he did for her and Harry, and partially because whenever she did, he just turned the tables back around to her job. The fact that Sirius and Remus both disapproved of the career path Lily had chosen to follow after James’ injury (as well as the fact that they both seemed to think they had a right to comment on her life choices) was a source of constant annoyance in Lily’s life, so she tried not to say or do things to provoke the topic anymore.

Still, Lily tried not to go into the bar if she could help it – it was shady, and she knew that some less than legal transactions went down in this bar, right under Sirius’ watchful eyes. She didn’t want him caught up in those things, especially when he was basically helping her to raise her son. But fighting with him about it had gotten them nowhere, and she needed to talk to him, so she was forced to make her way into the dark environment.

Approaching the bar, Lily tried not to meet anyone’s gaze, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on Sirius, who was currently wiping it down. When she reached him, she tried to bite back her disapproving sniff, but wasn’t sure she was entirely successful. “Sirius, can you take your break now?” 

Sirius didn’t look up as the door opened to the pub - the biggest thing about the place was that it was safe because people kept their gazes off whatever transaction was occurring. But then he heard the sniff and froze. He knew that sound - it was Lily, disapproving of him. How many times had he heard that over the years? Hell, how many times had he heard it this month?

He looked up, his brows raised slightly. “You don’t have to pretend that’s a question,” he said with a small, knowing smirk. She may have asked him out of politeness, but really it was a demand. He’d heard you will take your break instead. Straightening up, he threw the rag on the counter and got the attention of the one other employee in the place, jerking his head towards the door so she knew he’d be leaving for a bit.

WHO: Alastor & open WHERE: The Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley WHEN: 5 October, 1986 

Merlin, Moody had almost forgotten how much he’d hated crowded public events. He usually made it a habit not to attend. If he did attend (he usually had to), he hid in a dark corner somewhere no one would find him. He hated conversing with those he didn’t know. Worse - he hated making polite small talk with those he did know but not well. If anyone knew him well enough, they’d know not to bother. Moody wasn’t one for pleasantries. He wasn’t a fan of public events. There were too many people to keep an eye out for. Too many things that could go wrong at the drop of a hat. 

When he managed to pass his daughter off to her mother, Alastor hid out in the pub for a brief reprieve. He surely wouldn’t drink their liquor, but Tom didn’t mind as long as he bought a pint. Daylight robbery, really. Alastor slapped a galleon down on the bar and pulled out his own flask from his pocket, before holding it to his lips. He sighed when he felt a pair of eyes upon him - his annoyance outweighing his paranoia. 

“What?” He asked gruffly without so much as turning his head. “I came in here to get away from the small talk.” He paused, knowing he’d regret it. “Spit it out then.” 

Sirius found Alastor Moody where he assumed he would be - a pub. With most people, the cheer of a festival would make them smile excitedly in the streets, look at all the tables of goods or vendors of food. Not Sirius ol’ Order pal Moody. If he hadn’t seen the man with his daughter and wife, Sirius would’ve been convinced he didn’t know how to grin.

It had taken two different pubs before Sirius found him at the Leaky Cauldron, however. Never-the-less, Moody sensed Sirius’ gaze on him before he could even speak - it was chilling, the way he knew, like he had a fucking magical eye or something - and it wasn’t exactly a warm welcome.

Sirius wasn’t bothered by this, though. He preferred Alastor’s gruff authenticity to half the fake people he knew in the world. Hadn’t he run into Mary either? Perhaps the biggest liar of them all. “What? No so happy to see you, Sirius?” he said with a smirk, sliding into the seat next to Alastor. He pointed to the pint. “We both know you’re not drinking that. You should really consider sharing the wealth before I order my own. I’m not a paranoid pillock like you.”

Sirius Black. Whatever Mary’s next words would have been, they become stuck in her throat at the sight of the man in front of her. She knew that Sirius wasn’t particularly fond of her – and this might have been an understatement – after the decisions she’d made during the war. They’d been close, once. Sure, they had come to know each other through a mutual friendships with Lily and James, but spending that much time without becoming friends themselves was next to impossible.

Sirius, of all the people she knew back at Hogwarts, was probably the most enthusiastic about fighting in the war. The most passionate about it. So, naturally, it only made sense that he would have been less than thrilled by Mary’s decision not to participate. To hide. He, like many of her former friends, saw the move as cowardly, as selfish. Perhaps they were right, to some degree, but Mary had managed to escape the war with her family in tact, with her daughter unharmed. She wouldn’t trade their safety for anything. 

Though she’d tried to rebuild things with Lily and Remus to varying degrees of success, Mary had little hope to salvage her friendship with Sirius. It didn’t help that he also lived with Lily, stepping into James’ place as Harry’s father figure and reminding her sorely of what her friends had lost while she’d been on the sidelines. She knew he didn’t approve of the way she and Lily were trying to make amends, but if he didn’t want to forgive her, that was his prerogative ( she really wished he would, though ).

She doesn’t miss the jab, but she lets it go. It’s the sort of thing she’s grown used to, unfortunately. If Reggie were here, he’d probably step in and say something, but, as Sirius so kindly points out, he isn’t, and Mary doesn’t care enough to defend herself from things that are true. “Reggie took the girls to get some ice cream.” She offers in way of explanation, chewing on her lip as she tries to decide what to say next, “How have you been, Sirius?” She settles on. It’s innocuous enough, and she really does care to know, though she doubts he cares to tell.

Reggie took the girls to get some ice cream. It was such a... mundane answer. So domestic - traditional. It would almost make Sirius scoff if it weren’t for the fact that he, too, had turned into a family man. At least during the daytime. He’d taken Harry for ice cream more times than he could count. He didn’t know why it made him angry - but perhaps it was just that dumb nickname (Reggie) or maybe the fact that Mary’s cowardice allowed her to have a Reggie.

Lily couldn’t have James because James had lost his mind in the war. 

It made him unfairly annoyed. There was part of him that knew this was an irrational anger, but Sirius had never been good at stepping back and analyzing his own thoughts - or processing where this had come from. Mary was here now - Mary was the problem. 

“I thought your goal was to be always be around them? Surprised you’re trusting them out of your sight,” he said evenly. “Guess the war is over now and everything though. Safe now.” He didn’t want to say this - or maybe he did - but he couldn’t stop it.  Reggie took the girls to get some ice cream. James was as good as dead. “Must be nice for your girls to have a dad.”

Narcissa’s smile turned to ice the moment she realized who she was talking to, but it was too late now. She’d engaged in conversation, and Sirius was going to do his idiotic best to push her past the bounds of propriety. She couldn’t allow him to succeed. Her lips pressed tightly together as he spoke, insulting her, her son, and her husband’s manhood.

At his last dig, Narcissa laughed, a cold and humorless sound. Clearly she wasn’t about to tell him of all people the varied and imaginative ways Lucius kept her satisfied. It was absolutely none of his business, and given his slag reputation, she wouldn’t put it past Sirius to butt in just to see if it was true. “Perhaps you’d better find a better place to shop, Siri. I’m not sure you can afford anything here on a bar salary.” Even if Narcissa had determined that it was full of sham spells and enchantments, commerce was something she knew how to weaponize.

Her first instinct was to walk away and stop engaging, but Narcissa couldn’t do that without going to collect Draco. If Sirius decided to be petty and follow, she didn’t want to bring her son into this directly. Instead she turned away, looking at another display of jewelry and willing him to leave. She could say something about the Potters–that would be sure to set him off–but Narcissa wasn’t sure she wanted the headache today. 

Her laugh was just as he remembered - short, brutal, cold. How anyone could be fooled by the false-warmth that the Malfoys had managed after the war was beyond Sirius. The Mark that was surely on Lucius’ arm should’ve been enough proof to throw him into Azkaban forever, but an exchange of coin often made the lies become true. There was no way Narcissa Malfoy would let anyone Imperius her family - but it was for those reasons Sirius hadn’t trusted the system in the first place. Corrupt, the lot of them.

She used the nickname she knew he hated and he nearly grimaced, but managed to hold it back. His eyes did narrow even more, however - a tell that Narcissa was getting to him, even if it was just a bit. “You think I want something here? You’re the one that grab me in for this oh-so-lovely conversation. don’t you remember, cousin? I don’t babble in jewels that come from blood money, thanks.” He glanced at the necklaces on display again, the glittering diamonds. “Seems like quite your thing, though. Decorating yourself off the torture of others.”

He jerked his head to Draco again. “How old is he again, anyway?” Sirius knew damn well that his cousin and Harry were the same age - less than two months apart - but he didn’t want to seem like he cared. 

WHO: Mary & Open WHERE: Diagon Alley WHEN: October 5th, 1986, approx. 3:30pm

Mary wasn’t normally one for big celebrations. She used to quite enjoy them, when she was younger. She enjoyed the bright lights and loud music that parties and festivals offered – probably because they were so far removed from the day to day life she was used to with her parents, one which, while pleasant, was frightfully dull. She’d attended a few parties and such through her time at Hogwarts, and while she’d loved them at the time, it was difficult for her to find the same enthusiasm for such events as she once had. Nowadays, large gatherings did nothing other than set Mary on edge. She didn’t like being surrounded by people, and even less by strangers, and her overactive imagination had a tendency to run rampant with worst case scenarios in situations like this.

Why was she here, then? Good question.

While Mary didn’t like large gatherings like this one, the same could not be said for her husband and daughters. Much like Mary had once been, Ellie and Maisie were awestruck by the festivities, the bright lights blinking in their irises and enchanting them in a way that only seemed to work on children. Reggie had insisted on only going if Mary was comfortable, and, though she wasn’t, she could tell that this was something he wanted, too, and he’d made enough sacrifices for Mary in their relatively short life together. She could suck it up and attend a damned street festival for him, even if it killed her ( though she really hoped it wouldn’t ).

Reggie had taken the girls to the designated child area, where a number of fun activities had been set up. As soon as her daughters had heard about the sorts of things that had up for offer over there, they’d been tugging on their father’s sleeves to try and beckon him over there ( it seemed that Reggie had naturally fallen into the role of fun parent, much to Mary’s feigned annoyance ). Mary had insisted that he take the girls and see what was going on, while she tried to get a little shopping done ( if she was here, she might as well try and get some bargains ), and had smiled as she watched her family run off in the opposite direction while she entered one of the nearby shops.

Mary had found what she was looking for, and emerged triumphant from the little store with a bag full of goods. Unfortunately, she didn’t think to look where she was going as she did so, and stumbled out onto the crowded street, colliding head first right into another person. She grimaces instinctively, every muscle in her body tensing as she looks up at the person she’d unintentionally assailed, mumbling an apology before she’s even made eye contact – “I’m so sorry,” She says, “Are you alright?”

Sirius had had enough of this festival. He’d come because why not? but the idea of these things weren’t as appealing without a group of mates surrounding him, ready to cause some shit. Those days were long gone, though. And the reason for this very festival was also the reason his friendships had ended. James’ near-death... Remus’ distrusting gaze... Peter’s cowardliness. If the Marauders were still together, it would’ve meant that this festival never existed.

And, truth be told, Sirius would often give it all up - this warless life of “peace” - for it back again. 

He moved through the crowd - only half an hour before he had to head to the pub to begin the open routines, though it wouldn’t get busy until night hit, as usual. He expected more people than normal during the daylight hours today, however. Singles stopping in for a drink while attending the festival. No parent in their right mind would bring a child to The Flaming Dragon, however. 

He moves rather deftly, pushing through without a problem until - BAM! - someone ran right into him, their head hitting into his chest. It knocked the air out of him, made him stumble and gasp. “What the fu - “ But then he looked up and saw a familiar face, his heart dropping into his stomach.

Mary Macdonald - no Cattermole - a friend from long ago. Someone who Lily still tried to love, despite everything. Someone who had hidden away like a porcelain doll, afraid to be left off the shelf. Sirius’ eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he caught his breath. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve been in a fight before,” he says, the implication clear. His eyes moved around her empty spaces, usually occupied by the family she’d chosen. “You’re alone,” he commented a bit dryly. 

it had been a struggle to get her oldest son to come to the festival with the weasley family. he wanted to go off with his friends, but molly had insisted that he stay with the family for just a little bit. she wanted to spend as much time as she could with him and even though there was a big age gap between bill and her youngest children. she wanted bill and the younger kids to have some kind of time together (and they did, but teenagers being teenagers often only thought of themselves.

with all of her kids at the festival with her, molly wrapped her arms around arthur from behind and watched on as their kids played. bill, being the best big brother, was swinging ginny by her legs while their brothers watched on and laughed. when she noticed a man she recognized walk by, she said, “fancy seeing you here,” before she untangled herself from her husband. “is harry around?” she asked.

@caniicula​

Sirius was stopped by a lady with a gaggle of red-headed children that could be none other than Molly Weasley (because who else was surrounded by that many gingers?). While he and Molly sometimes had their differences, they generally got along - Ron and Harry sure liked one another, after all - and Sirius grinned at her, shooting a nod in greeting at Arthur a few paces away.

“The entire Wizarding community is here, I think,” he said. “So are you really surprised? Tonight should be good for business.” Sirius nodded. “Think he’s around with his mum somewhere. Not sure Lily would trust me around all these damn sweets, you know? Says I spoil the kid. I say he’s just a kid though! Isn’t that the point?”

Date: October 5, 1986 Location: Diagon Alley Starter: Open

Narcissa did miss the days when Draco was little enough to settle in a pram at events like this. Part of her longed to see what rare new plants might be on display in Knockturn on such an occasion, but a combination of social expectation and having a little one to keep up with easily convinced her to avoid it for now. She paused, keeping one eye on him as he studied the Eeylops window display. Rather than his kneazles and owls, Narcissa looked over an outside array of charmed amulets and rings at the shop next door. 

One promised a near identical appearance to any figure of your choosing! Narcissa scoffed and said allowed, “What a cheap promise. Jewelry can’t replace a good vial of polyjuice, no matter what they’d like to pretend.” Catching herself, she looked up and around. The shopkeep hadn’t heard her thankfully, but another shopper had. Narcissa smiled, her public persona firmly glued in place. In that overly polite tone she often used, Narcissa said, “Don’t mind me. I just grow skeptical of the promises even magic can deliver. See anything you find more enticing?”

Sirius wasn’t interested in the jewelry in this shop - the rings on his fingers and the bracelets hanging from his wrist were much less pristine than any of the shoppe’s display - but, as he passed, an amulet caught his eye. Gold, pretty, the charm in the shape of small antlers. If James were anything less than practically dead, Sirius would’ve bought it for him as a joke. An early Christmas present, perhaps. Given to him at the bottle of a pint like a proposal, hoping the gesture would make his friend laugh harder enough the beer would come spewing out.

Now, however, Sirius turned away rather quickly before he caught word of the woman next to him. The voice was familiar - how had he not noticed her? - and he faced her with the raise of a brow. “Didn’t recognize me, cousin? Your mother would be so disappointed you didn’t know to throw out the trash early. In fact you started a conversation with me. Gasp!” He said the last word out loud, rather than actually doing the gesture.