Pollux didn't understand Sirius' misery, but he could tell the young man wanted something from him. He just didn't know what, so he looked away, drank the beer that was slowly getting warmer--and more disgusting as such--and pretended everything was fine.
"What Dark Lord?" he asked. Grindelwald was gaining popularity across Europe. His influence had already spread from Austria-Hungary to Germany and Romania, and the ICW had implemented an embargo but that wasn't enough to declare Grindelwald a dark lord. He had a lot of supporters. Pollux frowned.
Right.
Sirius was from the future.
"Nevermind," he said, sure he didn't want to know about it. "Ir--" he hesitated, "Your grandmot--she's not dead, is she?"