Date: 27/09/01 Time: 7am Location: Number twelve Grimmauld Place Characters: Sirius Black and James Potter
Sirius saw too many three ams for his liking. Not drunk and propping up James, daring summer to last forever, or running free under the full moon with Remus. Just awake.
Sometimes he would watch Lily, wandering in the dark like number twelve's very own Grey Lady. He'd catch the sight of red hair glinting against his own wand light, but usually their eyes would slide away from each others gaze. Occasionally when it was bad they'd sit and pretend. No, I can't sleep either. Smiles and drinks, taunts and memories. Sirius had never been good at talking about things, and Lily didn't want to tell him anyway.
Tonight he hadn't seen her, but she was probably about somewhere. Sometimes he thought Lily felt the same way about this house as he did. It was haunted; not in the same wonderful way as Hogwarts, or in the dramatic legend of the shrieking shack, but by memories even happy ones that were tainted. Sirius had always felt as sickened by the pleasant times in this house as the terrible - perhaps they were even worse in a way. It was never easy to think that once he had loved his mother, or been devastated to find himself in Gryffindor.
Sirius saw three am, and four,five. Time passed unfelt, not even tossed a 'boredom' factor. Sirius drank gin, even though he hated it and it hated him back.
Six am saw him passed out on the sofa in the living room, almost-empty gin bottle nestled between his thigh and the sofa.
He dreamed of ravens that flocked across fields of sand, pecking at the ruby eyes of giant statues. He dreamed of cobras that curled around his feet, and spat at anyone who dared to come close. Finally, he dreamed of Lily, colder to touch than anything he'd known. Sirius jolted awake with a groan, and blearily focussed on the face of another human being.