Sirius had started drinking before Pollux arrived. Hell, he figured he'd handle this whole thing a little better if he was shitfaced from the start. At least if he threw up all over his grandfather it would shorten the meeting a little. Or at least, he could hope.
He'd been trying to ignore way too much today, and his head was hating him for it. Apparently it wasn't true that if you just forgot things, and pretended that they didn't exist, they'd just go away. Nah, they just settled in your brain like tiny little eggs, bursting into full sized dragons pounding at your skull by the end of the day.
He wasn't in the mood to meet with his grandfather. He wasn't in the mood to play the part of the total disappointment, the one who had spat in the face of everything it meant to be a Black. He didn't want to hear the pure blood tripe about how he'd sullied the family name. All he wanted to do now was drink himself into some type of oblivion where James and Lily were still alive and he wasn't on a train to Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit, but might as well have. He didn't want to deal with his blood family when his real family was gone forever.
He wanted to cry.
But he wasn't going to do that in front of his grandfather, so he downed another beer before going to answer the door.
The man looked familiar - younger, but familiar. Of course, all Blacks did, really. Wonderful thing, inbreeding.
When he held out his hand, Sirius took it awkwardly, his own hands clammy.