Sirius Black III (cagedblack) wrote in fourteenshades, @ 2014-09-08 17:42:00 |
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The entire day had been one frustration after another. His attempt to get by without the sleeping potion the night before had been less than successful. Instead of sleeping restfully, he’d been awakened several times by his own thrashing and shouting. He’d still gotten up, headed to work, and prepared to have a decently busy Monday night. Since the pub was closed on Sunday, it seemed to bring people out a little more on Monday, but things didn’t really pick up until a bit later. The first few hours would go by slowly, with only a few patrons coming in and out. Remus had stopped by as he promised he would, and they’d chatted for a little while quietly at the bar. It had helped to mellow his mood, take him from edgy and explosive to a somewhat even keel. He’d left not long before, and Sirius had promised that he would attempt to behave. The rest of the night shouldn’t be too strenuous because Sirius actually kind of liked his job. He liked managing the affairs of the pub and making sure they had what they needed on a daily basis. He liked the laid back atmosphere and the fact that he could often sneak in a nightcap before he left for the evening. He liked that a little after midnight, Dorcas would show up and they’d laugh their way through the last hour of the evening until he closed up the pub and they’d walk to one house or the other to listen to music until the rest of the world faded away. What he didn’t like was that he’d reacted so instantly to Orion’s journal entry just a little bit earlier. He glanced at his journal every now and then, wondering if he should reply or just leave things without doing more damage. He wasn’t sure if Orion was actually going to come to the pub or if it had all been a load of hot air. The boy holding the other quill, probably up at the castle, wasn’t really his father. He would be, some years later, but the truth of the matter was that Orion had not actually done anything unsavory to Sirius since his arrival in the village. He was just a kid who was confused about his future, and Sirius had been pretty unforgiving to him, taunting whenever he was in the least bit of a foul mood. He wasn’t sure how to separate the Orion he grew up with from the Orion in the village. He didn’t know that he could. Biting the inside of his cheek, he stared blankly at some of the papers in front of him. What a mess he’d made. -- To say that Orion was a mess would have been a big understatement. The great idea that had come to him over the weekend of figuring out when his sons’ birthdays were so that he’d be able to celebrate with them had crashed and burned in a gigantic cloud of black smoke. Going fishing in history books had been the worst idea he could have ever come up with and he was reeling still from what he’d read; Orion wasn’t even sure if the information had fully sunk in yet. Knowing that he and both his sons died because of dark wizards, though, had hit him much harder then he thought it would have. The journal wasn’t really a place to vent but he’d done it anyway, the ink marking the page in small puddles as he’d ended up crossing out everything before settling on something simple because of his need to remain independent and not need help from anybody. He hadn’t heard from Regulus but he’d heard from Sirius, and their argument over the journal was still irritatingly fresh in his mind. Orion still didn’t completely understand why Sirius hated him so much but, at that moment, he was too tired and upset to attempt to figure it out. While the other students had eaten their dinner and laughed together, Orion had just sat off to the side with the history book, no longer reading it but mostly hugging it while he just didn’t want any food. As the rest of the students disappeared to study or sleep, Orion fetched his broom from his room and left the castle, flying down to the village; he’d kept the history book with him, shrinking it to an acceptable size to fit in his jacket pocket. All he could think about was having something to drink, and he wasn’t talking about pumpkin juice either. As a teenager, his father had sometimes given him alcohol during special occasions and he wanted something similar now. Having remembered that there was a pub in the village, Orion headed over there and dismounted from his broom once he was nearby. He walked into the pub without a care in the world towards any other people that might have been there, and sat down on a stool in front of the bar, propping his broom up beside him. At this point, he wasn’t even bothering to look at the bartender but just muttered, “A small glass of gin, please.” -- When the door opened, Sirius had looked up from his papers only to find himself looking at a much younger version of his father. All the features were the same. He had that dark hair that Sirius had inherited, and bright blue eyes that Orion hadn’t passed on to either of his sons. The look of him was still aristocratic, though a little more slight than Sirius remembered, and definitely without any of the age. He looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and Sirius momentarily felt a little bit of guilt for helping to contribute to that. The boy that would one day become his father really was bothered by something, and that much was obvious. He shuffled his papers into a neater stack and closed his journal as Orion took a seat at the bar right in front of him. He raised an eyebrow when he asked for gin. Typical, Sirius thought. His father always had liked gin. He remembered the decanters of it that had always been well stocked, and the little short glasses that it would be poured into. He’d picked up a glass once thinking it was water when he was only a small boy and one sip had proved him wrong. He’d dropped the glass, and he’d gotten in trouble for a multitude of infractions, the least of which being tasting the drink. “You’re sixteen, Orion. I can’t actually serve you alcohol, but nice try,” he tried not to sound chastising or condescending. He tried to be as neutral as possible with his posh London accent wrapping around his words. He looked anything but upper-class. That day he’d worn comfortable jeans and a clean t-shirt with a button up pulled on over top, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A few necklaces hung around his neck, and there was a leather bracelet at his wrist. Tattoos made appearances on his forearms and hands, and his hair was still long and a bit shaggy, falling down nearly to his shoulders. He was everything a Black probably shouldn’t be, but he still had all the aristocratic handsome features of the family he was born to, “Can I get you something else instead?” The last statement, added as an afterthought when he realized that Orion was actually a potential customer and he really should probably treat him like one, wasn’t a courtesy that Sirius really wanted to pay. -- The surface of the bar was far more interesting to Orion then it should have been, and his mind continued to spin around in circles. He shouldn’t have argued with Sirius but it was like the man lived to upset him, and he still didn’t understand why. He’d almost completely forgotten that he’d asked for a drink when somebody responded and the overly-familiar accent that he recognised immediately startled Orion and he looked up abruptly. The man in front of him didn’t look like the people that Orion knew from London and his time, yet his accent was unmistakable. He took a moment to just stare at the man, not entirely sure why he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. Finally the rest of his brain caught up with him and Orion asked, “How do you know my name? And my age, for that matter. I don’t recall meeting you.” Then he realised what the man had said and scowled a little, his nose scrunching up. “My age has nothing to do with it right now. And if you are going to offer me water, don’t bother. It won’t help.” -- Sirius found it mildly disappointing that Orion didn’t make the connection when he finally looked up to see him. Then again, he supposed he really couldn’t blame him. Sirius knew everything that there was to know about any Black that they had any kind of history on, and he was sure that Orion did as well, but he hadn’t memorized the portraits of the future Black’s the way that they were bid to do with their ancestors. He swallowed hard, absently wiping down the bar with a towel, “I know your name because I’m Sirius. I saw your portrait enough growing up to know what you looked like when you were a kid,” he braced his hands against the bar top and pushed back against it a little. “You always did like gin,” he sighed, looking out to the rest of the pub. There were only a few people loitering around, most of them on the other side at a table having a bit of supper. He stood straighter and gave a roll of his shoulders, “Look...whatever’s driving you to drink, it probably isn’t worth the hangover. You are underage, though. Technically. Not that I didn’t spend my fair share of nights at sixteen drunk off my arse...but I can’t just serve it to you.” He was attempting civility. That was progress for him. He wasn’t sure it was going to make much of a difference, but in hindsight, seeing Orion so disheartened right in front of him took a little bit of the fuse out of his anger. -- Despite trying to concentrate on the man in front of him, Orion found his gaze following the towel that the man was using to wipe down the bar with and it was strangely calming to a degree, but not that much. He almost didn’t register what the man said for a moment but then he slowly realised and looked up again, just staring at his son for a while. “Right,” he said finally, his voice slightly shaky. “Hi then, I guess. Nice to meet you finally?” He felt very awkward again, even more awkward then he’d felt when he and Regulus had met for the first time, and almost wished that he could hide like he’d done when he sneezed in front of Regulus. “Did I? That’s good to know,” he added absentmindedly, almost hugging his broom into his side by then. He let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t want a hangover, just one drink. I have had alcohol before, I’m not a damn baby.” He certainly felt like a baby right then, but half of him didn’t care. Though it wasn’t really true, part of him felt like the whole world was crashing down on his head. “How did you spend so many nights drunk at sixteen then? If no one would serve it to you.” Even though he felt terrible, Orion was still a curious lad. -- This whole exchange was going to be uncomfortable, Sirius thought. He felt a little unnerved by the stare, swallowing hard and attempting to look down, anywhere away from those blue eyes that had always seemed to see more than they should. Sirius remembered when he was little that whenever his father did get involved, it was always unnervingly quiet. It was worse, sometimes, than the blind raging of his mother’s temper, “Yeah...I suppose so.” He wet his lips and was tempted to reach under the bar to get a bottle of scotch for himself, just to have a big drink to take the edge off. He was a bit of a hypocrite sometimes. He knew that. This wasn’t something he was entirely prepared for, though. “I never said you were a baby,” Sirius bit out, his temper momentarily snapping. He stepped back a little bit and ran a hand through his hair, “It’s amazing the trouble you can get into without parental supervision. I got very good at nicking it from your stock.” He snagged a bottle of something amber from under the bar, poured a shot, and tossed it back with a small grimace. This was not something he remotely wanted to do right now, “I don’t think I have anything to help you if you don’t want food or water or butterbeer.” -- There was a moment of sheer awkwardness for Orion while he tried to figure out what to say to Sirius. Anything would have been a start, but he didn’t know where to begin. Sorry for being a terrible dad? Sorry for finding out we all die and its my fault? Sirius’s response to his comment made Orion flinch unconsciously, though, and he felt terrible for doing such a thing because it made him feel pathetic. He let out a shaky sigh and managed a weak smile. “I wouldn’t know anything about getting into trouble,” he remarked, thinking about how he’d been closely looked after by his father and sister and various sitters. He glared irritably at Sirius when the older man poured himself a shot and tossed it back. Now Sirius was just taunting him on purpose, it seemed. But finally he thought about what Sirius had said and replied, “Fine. A butterbeer. If I have to start slow.” -- “I don’t imagine you would. I was always a bit too mischievous for my own good, apparently. I got away with it quite a bit, but the punishments when I got caught were always...creative,” he didn’t meet Orion’s gaze at the revelation, his tone even and distant, perhaps ending on a bit of a flat note. As though he were trying to recite it as something that happened to someone else and not to him. Sirius had never been comfortable talking about the details of his punishments. Talking about such things was largely frowned upon, and even Regulus hadn’t been privy to the knowledge of what went on when Sirius disobeyed. It had preserved his opinion of their mother and father while Sirius’ faith in them had dwindled day by day until there was nothing left except hatred. Still, he got a tall, cooled mug and he pulled a butterbeer for his teenage father. He sat it on the bar in front of the dark-haired boy and poured himself another real shot, knowing that he shouldn’t really be drinking much on the job, but Orion was the only one paying him any attention at the moment. He sighed and looked at Orion for a long moment with his calculating, steel-grey eyes, “What has you so bent anyway?” He wondered if maybe Orion had found out about the second war...if he’d found out about Regulus taking the mark and dying, or his own death that followed shortly after. He’d heard about both, but he hadn’t been around for it. Everyone had tip-toed around him for a little while, and Sirius had just pretended that it hadn’t mattered. He went on a bender for a few days to drown any lingering grief when no one else was watching, but it wasn’t unusual for people to go quiet for a few days in the midst of war and no one seemed to ever notice. -- Hearing Sirius talk about his childhood made Orion feel more guilty, if that was even possible. He’d ignored most of his son’s remarks towards him over the past couple of weeks, not even considering that they were remotely accurate and that maybe he just had emotional issues, but they had The sound of liquid being poured made Orion look up and his spirits briefly lifted at the sight of the butterbeer. He reached out and grabbed the glass with both hands, tipping it forward and taking a slow drink from it, not even realising or caring that he ended up with a foam line along his upper lip. When Sirius asked a question, Orion let out a sigh and moved the glass back then reached into his pocket and took out a tiny book. His wand followed after, and he tapped the book once, muttering “Finite Incantatem”. It happened to be the history book he’d been going on and on about, and he nudged the book further onto the surface. “We die. We all die. You, Regulus and I. No bloody happy ending,” he answered, barely mumbling out the last bit. -- He gave a half-hearted shrug of one of his shoulders at the mumbled apology from Orion’s lips. It was more than he’d ever gotten from his father back in reality, but it didn’t really seem to mean as much when Orion didn’t actually know what he was apologizing for. It just felt a bit empty, and Sirius needed more than that for it to be alright. One apology barely scratched the years of emotional baggage that he’d suppressed until he got to Azkaban where they were just about the only memories he had left. His childhood and the war...everything else happy was fed on by the Dementors, and he still remembered them now, but for years it had been hard to recall happiness at all. He watched the younger man carefully as he reached into the pocket of his robes and took out a book, muttering a spell to make it normal sized. Sirius reached out for it, but he stopped short at those words. We die. We all die. Swallowing hard, he retracted his hand for a moment, looking between Orion and the offending book. Of course, Sirius realized that eventually he was going to die. He wasn’t completely invincible, but from the way that Orion talked it was sooner instead of later. It had been a niggling thought in the back of his mind for weeks now. Sirius was well aware of the fact that Harry’s kids didn’t seem to act as though they knew him. So, he had to have died before they were born, right? Logic seemed to say that the war in Harry’s time was fatal to a lot of those who had survived the first one, but he hadn’t wanted to know. Not until now...because now he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it. No happy ending… “Wait here,” he mumbled, walking down to the other end of the bar to get Aberforth’s attention from over with the other patrons. He said a quick word to him about watching the place for a bit while Sirius took care of some important family business, gesturing down to Orion. A moment later he was back, pulling a bottle of gin and two glasses from under the bar, tucking the bottle under his arm. He dragged the book off of the bar with his free hand and gave a jerk of his head back towards the door the led to the kitchen, stock room, and office in the back, “Come on, Orion. We’ve got some talking to do and I sure as fucking hell am not doing it out here.” He led Orion to the back, only taking one glance behind him to see that the younger boy was following. He went into the office, closed the door behind them and opened the gin, pouring them both a hearty glass before he sat heavily in one of the seats. He flipped open the cover of the book, down to the index page, scanning for his name, “Tell me what you know. Everything. You don’t have to go into great detail about your death or Regulus...I was still around for that. I came here from after six years in Azkaban prison. I know I eventually escape, but beyond that, I hadn’t heard...” -- The moment those dreaded words left Orion’s mouth, he just wanted to curl into a little ball and be left there for a long time. The silence between him and Sirius should have been supremely awkward but it wasn’t, and Orion’s gaze just alternated between that horrible history book and his glass of butterbeer. When Sirius spoke, Orion almost startled but watched as his son went down to the other end of the bar and talked to someone. When Sirius gestured for him to follow, Orion grabbed his broom without a moment’s hesitation and followed Sirius through the door into the office behind the bar. He didn’t have anything to say to Sirius’s remark, but silently agreed that talking about their mutual discovery of history outside in the main bar area was a really bad idea. Sitting down in the other seat opposite Sirius, Orion placed his broom against the wall and held his hand out for the other glass of gin that Sirius had poured. Orion was in the mood to just grab it but managed to retain most of his manners in that situation. He looked down with a low sigh and recalled all of the information he’d read, despite not wanting to think about it at all. It took him a while to form all of it in his brain to be a working reply. “Regulus died because of Inferi. Some dark magic creation. After he decided to leave the ranks of the Death Eaters. He took something that was important to their master. But we drove him to that point. She and I.” Orion just looked horrified at that thought, and he shakingly drank some of the gin, coughing a little when the liquid slid down his throat. “Apparently we became disillusioned with the Death Eaters and their whole beliefs, so we stopped supporting them and I strengthened the magical defences of the house. Nice to discover I am not completely useless. But it didn’t matter. They just had to wait for me to leave the house. I was attacked from behind; shot in the back by a Killing Curse, apparently. Bloody cowards couldn’t even give me a fair fight.” He went quiet for a few moments, as if collecting himself again. It was hard to talk about it out loud, but Sirius had asked and Orion would oblige. “It says you escaped from Azkaban and went on the run, sparking a massive manhunt including at Hogwarts. Eventually you made your way back home and hid there, becoming part of the Order, I don’t know what that is. Apparently our house became the headquarters for the Order, though. And you assisted the Order against You-Know-Who….but you went with the Order to rescue a bunch of Hogwarts students from the Ministry of Magic, including your godson Harry. You were killed in the Department of Mysteries, by Bellatrix Lestrange….you were 36.” Orion looked down at the floor. “After your death, you were cleared of all the charges that put you in Azkaban and the Ministry declared you innocent.” -- It felt like a blow to the stomach. He’d heard stories about Orion and Regulus’ deaths in his own time, but he had never heard it quite like that. He’d been told that Regulus got in over his head and in fear, he’d wavered enough to get himself killed. He never imagined that Regulus had actually tried to leave much less actually stolen anything from Voldemort himself. That took guts...and Sirius actually felt a swell of emotion resembling pride. Maybe Regulus had more backbone than he realized. At least he hadn’t died thinking that Voldemort was in the right. He took a drink of the gin, flipping through the pages in the book almost idly, but he was really more focused on Orion and what he was saying. He flinched a little to find out that his father hadn’t even been able to defend himself. Despite all the ill feelings towards him that Sirius had harbored over the years, that didn’t feel right to him. Maybe, he thought...if he’d just ever tried to make contact. But he’d been disowned, and as far as he knew, his parents had never tried to reach out to him, “I didn’t know that,” he said, his voice breaking softly, “The stories I heard about how you both died…were entirely different. I didn’t know.” There was something too, about Orion saying that he wasn’t ‘completely useless’ that struck Sirius a little too deep. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek, guilt for the hard time he’d been giving Orion wearing on him. Then he got to the part about Sirius himself, and he fell quiet again, bracing himself for whatever he was about to hear. He listened in complete silence, his hand around the glass of gin, but he didn’t lift it to his lips even once. When Orion fell quiet, a strange little laugh passed his lips, and he ran a hand through his hair, pushing his spine back against his chair as though that would somehow bring him back to reality, if he just used enough pressure. He shook his head softly, “It’s not funny,” he sighed, looking blankly at the ceiling, “Except that it’s kind of amusing how I wasn’t given a trial at all, and they couldn’t bloody figure out that I was innocent until after I was murdered. By my cousin, no less. Who is also in Azkaban in my time, so I guess she eventually followed my lead to escape. Should’ve known.” He took a deep breath, “The um...the Order of the Phoenix. It’s an organization that I joined right after school in opposition against Voldemort and his Purist regime. A lot of my friends died fighting for that cause. I told you that...a few days ago. They reinstated the Order when Voldemort returned the second time, and your security measures...they held even after you died. So I volunteered it for their use. Remus told me all that a little while back. He’s one of my best mates, you see…” he picked up his glass of gin again, draining it in one long drink, “Thirty-six...that’s only another seven years. Most of them spent in Azkaban. I hoped I would have had longer…” he rolled the glass between his hands, the book having been absently placed on the desk, open and askew, “The Black line ends with us. I was disowned, of course. So I don’t guess I really count but Regulus and I…we were the last sons of the house.” He was much calmer than he thought he would be. Maybe because he’d half-way been expecting it. His mind was still buzzing, and he thought maybe it would have some kind of delayed impact. Later was when he’d freak out, probably. Once it had some time to sink in. His own death seemed such a silly, foreign concept, but there it was staring him in the face. All he could think about was how unfair it was...how utterly cheated out of his life he had been. -- Once he finished speaking, Orion moved to hold the glass of gin in both hands, focusing mostly on the feeling of the cold liquid inside the glass. He was surprised that he’d managed to get the whole story out without cracking or breaking down like a baby, but perhaps he was built out of tougher stuff than that. Sirius’s voice sounded way too soft and Orion had to look up and make sure his son hadn’t been swapped with someone else, but he hadn’t and Orion managed a brief smile in response. “Don’t apologise. How could you have known. You were in Azkaban,” Orion replied, with a considerable amount of misery in his voice. How could he have been such an awful and terrible parent to let that happen to Sirius? “She is also here,” Orion pointed out quietly. He hadn’t met Bellatrix in person yet but Orion had spoken with a man that claimed to be her husband, someone who had welcomed him despite the peculiar circumstances. At the time, he had appreciated how the man had been completely honest with him, but now he felt much less appreciative about it, knowing that the man’s wife had killed his son. An anger Orion didn’t know he was capable of started to well up inside him and he wanted nothing more than to hunt down Bellatrix and give her a piece of his mind, regardless of the fact that he was sixteen years old. The Order of the Phoenix. Orion had skimmed over the parts that contained information about them because he had only been looking for information about his own family, specifically his sons. “At least the house was good for something.” He looked down at the floor, feeling strange when Sirius mentioned his best mate and Orion knew exactly who he was talking about. The man must have known who Orion was, all this time but hadn’t treated him badly in the slightest. “Professor Lupin has been nothing but kind to me all this time,” he said, more exhaled then anything else. When Sirius remarked about how they were the last of the house of Black, Orion couldn’t even bring himself to react, realising that his remark about there being no bloody happy ending was the absolute truth. But then he remembered what Draco had said, about this place being a second chance, and he took a large gulp of the gin before looking at Sirius, “You won’t be the last. Not in this place. You both have the chance at a better life.” -- He rubbed his hands over his face, “Not until after. I didn’t go to Azkaban until after you and Regulus were both gone. I never went back to figure out the truth of it. I just...figured whatever I heard was probably close enough, but that was wrong. I hadn’t seen you since I ran away, and Mother wouldn’t have wanted me around, so I never…” he shrugged, letting out a deep breath. He was probably being more candid with Orion than he ever had been in his life. Maybe because of the circumstances, maybe because his father was just a kid and it was nothing at all like talking to his actual father from his own time. It was easy when the journals were between them to just pretend as though they were exactly the same. He could take his anger out on Orion then. Without the buffer of space and magic, though, it drained some of that animosity because this boy and his father may as well have been completely unrelated from what he’d seen so far. Sirius wasn’t surprised to hear that Bellatrix was somewhere inside the village. He hadn’t seen or heard from her yet, and that was a bit of a surprise, but he imagined she was biding her time. That or she was oblivious. They hadn’t exactly been close. He’d always despised her, and the feeling had seemed to be pretty much mutual, “Half of the village is related in some way or another. I haven’t seen her yet, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.” When Orion mentioned that Remus had always been kind to him, he felt the distinct need to stare at his feet in a moderate show of shame. It had been Remus who tried to get Sirius to see reason and give Orion a chance. Of course he was nice to the boy who was still one of his students, “Remus is one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. We’ve been mates since school. Brothers, practically. He’s often my voice of reason when I lack one of my own,” he sat back in his chair a little, tipping it onto the back legs and balancing it easily, “We have a chance, yeah. For however long this lasts. But that doesn’t mean there will be more Blacks coming around. I know people are having babies, but they’ve been here a long time. I’ve apparently been here several times already, but never stuck around long. Kind of makes me wary about my chances. At the least, we get a bit more time here. Maybe it’s reality’s way of apologizing for fucking us over.” He knew the words were crass, but Sirius worked hard to be unrefined, and a little bit of liquor always helped with that. He tapped the book on the desk with his fingers, “Can I borrow this for a day or two? I’ll bring it back to you or take it back to wherever it needs to go. I just...want to read for myself.” -- Walburga always seemed to pop up in their conversations somewhere and, try as he might, Orion just couldn’t bring himself to think positively of her. He remembered what Draco said but he just couldn’t do it. All he could think of what everything Sirius had said about his childhood and, while Orion knew that he was responsible as well for what had happened, Orion had never apparently raised a hand or wand to either Regulus or Sirius, unlike Walburga had done with Sirius. “I don’t blame you. We weren’t your favourite people,” he replied calmly, although he didn’t feel very calm. He raised his eyebrows in silent agreement with Sirius about half the village being related in some way or another. Every time he turned, it was like another relative had appeared when he wasn’t expecting it. “She seems to keep to herself. I haven’t seen or heard from her at all since I arrived here. I only know she is here because her husband talked to me. He’s gone now, though.” “You mean like when we argue?” Orion asked, referring to Remus being the voice of reason, but he cracked a small smile when he said it; if Remus was Sirius’s voice of reason, it made sense that he’d be trying to convince his son not to argue with Orion. But he was more trying to make the mood in the room lighter since it had been pretty dark up until now. He took a drink of the gin while Sirius talked about having a life in the village, and it made him wonder how many times he had been there before, if at all. “I should hope its reality’s way of apologising,” Orion muttered, taking another sip of the gin before nodding at Sirius. “Go ahead. I don’t want anything to do with it for a long while yet. I only read it for a single piece of information and look what happened.” -- He gave a soft smile and nodded, “Yeah. Like then. Remus came in here a bit ago and it gave me a little perspective.” He felt a little bit odd sitting there with Orion in the wake of the news, actually finding something amusing, but in truth...it hadn’t really settled as an idea for him, yet. He would be alright for a little while, but when the reality of it set in, Sirius was going to be on edge. He was self-aware enough to know that sometimes big shocks to his system had a delayed reaction, especially now that his emotions were precarious, fickle things after years of being Dementor chow. Sirius nodded, understanding why Orion wouldn’t really want to keep carrying it around. It wasn’t the pages that really made the book so heavy. It was all the information on those pages, and Sirius was pretty certain he wasn’t going to like what he read, but reading it would make it feel more truthful. If someone bothered to write about it, that meant that it was significant. He found some solace in the knowledge that after he’d died his name had been cleared of the charges he’d been imprisoned for. That, at least, was something that had gone right. “What were you looking for anyway? What on Earth would possess you to read a history book from the future?” He had known other people that had done so in the village, and most of them had also come into the pub looking for solace in liquor. He nodded to what was left in the glass Orion had in his hand, “You should finish the gin. I’ll have to get back out there soon.” -- Orion looked startled for a moment. “Professor Lupin was here?” he asked, looking a bit bashful before moving his gaze to the floor. He felt bad having talked to Professor Lupin like everything was alright after a bit of time but he had never sought out people to help with his own problems even if he’d needed the help, and he was too polite to just say ‘no leave me alone’ to their faces. He would have to say sorry to a lot of them once he’d gotten his bearings again and he hoped it would all be alright. When Sirius mentioned the gin, Orion quickly took another gulp of it before answering the first question his son had. “Uh, well….” his gaze wandered around the room. “I was looking for yours and Regulus’s birthdates. I remembered what you had mentioned in one of our journal debates and I wanted to find your birthdates so that I could, maybe, start making amends somehow, even with a silly birthday present,” he explained, kinda rushing his words out because of how awkward he felt. A sigh fell from his lips and he took another big gulp of the gin. -- “He was. Trying to convince me a bit that you’re not a terrible person and take my mind off of the fact that I was a prick to you. Pains me to admit that he was kind of right,” Sirius sighed, thinking back to his past. It was true that the person sitting with him was Orion, but the father that he’d known was just a shade of the boy he was now. It didn’t make everything alright. Sirius still wasn’t quite sure what he thought about him, but it wasn’t so easy to dismiss him or picture the brooding figure of his family patriarch with Orion actually present. He would try, he thought, to be kinder. Sirius had always possessed the a keen eye for observation, but he’d been told before that his stare was penetrating, unnerving to some who found it lingering on them without his usual spark of playful mischief. It was true that he could be an intense, calculating man when it came right down to it, and despite what he liked to claim, there was still some Black left in him. He was surprised to hear that Orion was looking for his and Regulus’ birthdays. He seemed genuine, though, and even his analyzing gaze couldn’t detect any falsehoods in the admission, “Silly is alright. I’m a fan of jokes,” he knew that wasn’t the reason that Orion had chosen the term ‘silly,’ but he pretended it was. After a quiet moment, Sirius stood from his chair, picking up the bottle of gin because he’d have to take it back out to the bar. He looked down at the bottle thoughtfully, “Drink a glass of water in a bit, and eat something if you can stomach it.” He was sure that Orion had taken drinks before, he’d said as much, but it didn’t mean that he’d ever had quite so much, “Try not to dwell on what you read in that book. You’ve got a lot of life ahead, and here? None of that touches us.” He wasn’t sure whether it was the alcohol or the information that he’d received that was making him feel so charitable towards Orion, but no matter the reason it was a better start than he’d ever imagined it could be despite the horrible circumstances. -- Orion was very surprised to hear what Professor Lupin had done, that he’d tried to convince Sirius that Orion wasn’t a terrible person. Having read what he had in the history books, the teenager was much more likely to admit that he was a terrible person in the future, even if it greatly pained him to do so because of not wanting to apologise for things he hadn’t actually done yet. “I’m glad that you’ve got so many good friends here, in this place,” Orion remarked, feeling very old to have said that but it somehow felt like the right thing to say. All of his friends from school, back in his time, were not here and, while he was making new friends slowly but surely, he occasionally missed the ones he’d made back in his time. Despite how he felt emotionally, Orion attempted to show some amusement in response to Sirius’s remark but only managed a weak smile before taking another drink of the gin. To think he’d gone into the history book for such an innocent reason, only for all of this to happen. He nodded when Sirius suggested drinking a glass of water later, and trying to eat something as well. “Hopefully there will be some leftovers from dinner at the castle. I wasn’t really able to eat anything beforehand.” He finished up the last of the gin before standing up, and looked up at Sirius as the older man talked. What Sirius said was very true and Orion could only hope that things would be much better here. “I’ll try. Although I think I’ll stick to defensive magic books for the foreseeable future,” he answered. “But thank you, s….Sirius. Really. I know that I’m just a teenager but I really hope that we can get along in the near future. Because, and I’m pretty sure you won’t believe me, but family is still important….to me.” -- Sirius just nodded softly. He didn’t feel like talking much longer. He needed to think this through. He needed to have time to process it. It was a strange situation, to know that he died so young, and to feel so little. He did feel cheated. His life was deeply tragic and cut too short. He’d grown up in a time of war, however, and he had actively participated in that battle. Despite the invincibility he’d felt in his youth, somewhere beneath the surface he’d always known that his generation seemed to be living on borrowed time. Very few of them had made it out, and even fewer were the same when it was over. In truth, after finding out that Remus had died at the final battle of the second war, Sirius had lost what little hope he had that that he’d somehow survived. This information had been something he’d been attempting to avoid, but he’d known it deep down for a while already. If he hadn’t, his reaction may have been unpleasantly volatile, but instead he just needed to think. In this place he had his friends back. It was his solace. “Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. I’m not saying it’s impossible. I’m made a vow to attempt to better myself or some shite like that, but there’s still a lot of stuff here that’s unresolved. Just because I snuck you some gin, it doesn’t make us best pals,” the words were less malicious and more matter-of-fact. He shrugged softly, “Come on, family man. Let’s get you out of here.” He led Orion back out to the front, looking over and giving a small nod of thanks to Aberforth before he slipped back behind the bar again. Sirius spared Orion one parting glance and watched as he left the pub with his broom in hand. In a little while, he’d go to read that book, and slowly the reality of it would begin to sink in. |