Watching his mother's shrieking silhouette disappear into the bowels of Grimmauld Place, Sirius sighed heavily. The hand at Emmeline's back scrubbed up and down. Gentle, silent reassurance that she was right where she belonged: by his side. Bug's opinion changed nothing for him; hadn't in years. Never would where it came to Emmeline.
"That went better than I anticipated," he joked. "Come on. In you go..."
Allowing Emmeline to step into the house first, Sirius followed close on her heels, shutting the door behind them. Daylight cut off by heavy wooden drawbridge left the pair in near darkness as they proceeded down the dusty, carpeted hall. Sirius still hated this place. Hated the high ceilings and narrow walls, and the smell of age and haughtiness seeped into the plaster. "Just follow her banshee calls," he whispered to Em, as they neared the end of the hallway, emerging once more into daylight. The only tolerable room in the entire house, according to Sirius.
And sure as the sunrise, there was Bugs. Pitching a childish wobbly for the ages, her neediness attended by Sirius' second least favorite living being: Kreacher.