They were approaching dangerous territory, Pollux could see it in Sirius' eyes, despite the casual grace of his tone. He dealt with Blacks, he was one of them, and understood the nature behind their moods. Arcturus was cold, stoic and dangerous at the best of times, Lycoris loud and outspoken, predictable.. and Regulus--Pollux forced himself not to think of his cousin, barely containing the shiver that wanted to express itself. The point was.. he knew how mercurial they could be.
He looked away from Sirius, took another drink and tried not to gag. Really, the more he drank it the less foul it tasted, but it still wasn't anything to remark upon. How did people drink these things?
But more importantly.. Sirius was disowned. Pollux closed his eyes and exhaled a controlled breath, trying not to give way to the desperate build of panic in his chest. "Oh.. I see," he said carefully. Who was Voldemort? Why was Sirius betraying anyone? What had he done to get himself disowned? Pollux stared at his hand instead of asking those questions. "Consequences, we all have to do things we don't like.."