Chapter Text
It was a dreary evening in Grimmauld Place. It must have been evening - Sirius could not tell days and nights apart anymore in this never-ending abyss of a house. Time was something that was marked by Order members checking in. Otherwise, time was a standstill in these long hallways and empty rooms, full of memories that ticked under his skin like a pulse under a livid bruise...
Remus and others had said they were due any moment.
Sirius looked at the contents of his bottle - Firewhiskey swilled around at the bottom. He was hoping to finish this before they arrived, so he could act the part of the host. It was the only thing left for him to do now - besides wondering where he could find Peter and when he could talk to Harry again… Harry, who clearly hadn’t opened his Christmas present...
Harry’s upset face swam before him. He felt uneasy that his last conversation with his godson was about James - James and him, at the height of their idiocy. It had been an increasingly difficult year to talk to Harry, what with the Ministry scanning everything.
The Ministry, the bitterness in him swelled at the thought. Clearly, ruining his life wasn’t enough. They had to take away one of the few things that brought him comfort in this house - Harry’s letters. He wanted to talk to Harry again - perhaps smooth over the bitterness of the memory he has seen. Harry still looked uncertain at the end of that conversation...
Summer couldn’t come soon enough. Perhaps then, he could talk to Harry about James, about himself...
The Firewhiskey glinted, he took a swig of it. And then -
A Patronus landed in the middle of his kitchen. A doe. Lily.
When he saw Lily's Patronus - beautiful and graceful and almost forgotten in the years in Azkaban - he was mystified, remembering when James saw it for the first time. "We're made for each other," he'd said, spinning Lily around in his arms. Sirius reverently reached out an arm to touch it. And then -
"Black," a silky voice made of grease and cold water said. "Your godson is of the opinion that you aren't uselessly hiding away in your mother's house and somehow thinks that you're with the Dark Lord. Do try to prove him wrong and stay where you are."
As the Patronus faded away, the only thought left in Sirius's mind is, "Motherfucker."