#marlowe 003

Sirius let out a half defeated sigh as he climbed the steps to Marlowe’s flat. He was both excited for and dreading the evening in front of them. Formal events like this one were the world he ran away from. There’d be people there he liked, such as Marlowe and James, but he was also bound to run into people he’d probably want to punch in the face. Since the thing was hosted by Slughorn, there was even the possibility that his mother would show up, but the fact that he’d made it an open invitation this year meant Walburga was less likely to attend. If disgusting muggleborns and blood traitors like her eldest son could be there, the event was possibly beneath her.

Sirius knocked twice, figuring it was an occasion where it wouldn’t be appropriate to just apparate straight into Marlowe’s flat. In the time it took her to answer the door. Sirius straightened his suit jacket, but left his bow tie undone. He wanted to look nice, put together in the same way he was sure Marlowe would be, but the bow tie he would leave until the last possible moment. There was only a certain length of time he could wear one until he felt as though it was suffocating him and he felt compelled to rip the thing off.

Marlowe opened the door and Sirius couldn’t help but smile. “I know they said black tie optional, but Prewett...” he pretended to scold her as he stepped inside.

He was about to continue, but then he remembered the present he’d brought. It was technically a present for her - Sirius had bought it and brought it with her in mind - but it was going to benefit both of them. He turned around to face her and held up the bottle of whiskey that he’d brought with him. “If we’re going to get dressed up and go to all this trouble,” he gestured to his suit and unscrewed the cap. “May as well have fun while we do it.” He thought about charming two glasses over to them, but instead opted to swig straight from the bottle.

It was inevitable that he would end up by the dragons. Andromeda was an unfortunate part of going to see the dragons because while he had never really begrudged her choices (and could appreciate the fact that he was still, now, at the age of thirty, unmarried), it would always be more complicated seeing someone like Andromeda in a place as crowded as this. Eyes were everywhere and he wasn’t expected to be civil with the woman who had left him for a muggleborn. But at the dragons there was Marlowe and, well, dragons. So Brenton could put up with the awkwardness of pretending that he didn’t know who Andromeda was for a little bit.