9.35pm
Death and the loss of a good twenty years had put Sirius at a disadvantage when it came to Quidditch. He was slowly picking it up again under Ginny's guidance, and Quidditch never really changed much, but the autograph signing hadn't held much interest. He'd spent the half hour getting pleasantly half-drunk on the free champagne, and chatting to the others lurking about the room.
Though he had been invited as Ginny's guest he had no wish to intrude on her interactions with others. He might have left the house of Black at sixteen, but he'd learned that social functions were never just that before he'd been old enough to tie his own laces.
Sirius had never been unable to entertain himself. He headed out of the autograph room, deciding to find a slow-witted guest to convince he was muggle royalty. As he turned out of the room his eye caught familiar features. His eyes moved over the pale face, framed by hair that was several shades lighter than their shared shade of black.
He opened his mouth to call out to his brother, but caught himself before he could shout out his supposed-to-be-dead brother's name. Sirius eased through the movement of people and put a hand on Regulus' shoulder.