Atheyas

𝟑𝟑: 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖊

          Grief. It comes in waves, little ones; a rising, choking sense of despair, of crushing loss. At first, they are so strong one can feel so swept away. Eventually, it washes their memories to your shore, and suddenly, they seem a lot less scary and more inviting. Sirius leaned on the headboard of the bed in Remus' room, his arm wrapped around a shoulder. Snoring beside him, Peter had fallen fast asleep. And in front of them lay a bunch of washed-out photographs of the Marauders in their prime times. Times when things like the Wizarding War didn't matter, where they only studied Voldemort as history, where lives weren't snatched from them inhumanely. 

          Sirius picked up a photo of him and Remus that Laav had taken during his 19th birthday. Despite it being Moony's special day, in his arms, he held a very drunk Sirius. "Ah, I should warn you. Here comes your boyfriend," Laav teased. Remus looked over his shoulder nearly in time to dodge a headbutt by his friend. The both of them crashed first onto the floor, groaning and Laav took this opportunity to quickly capture the hilarious moment. "Geez, Laav! Always taking photos at the wrong time," the birthday boy whined staring up at her. "Well, this is an excuse for me to flirt around," she joked, fanning the polaroid for it to dry. "Just a quick reminder. You're mine, sweetheart," Sirius slurred, head on Remus' lap. Laav looked down at the two boys near her feet and scrunched her nose. "Mm, with all these photos as evidence, I wouldn't think so." 

           He looked at the back of the photo, 'Moony's Birthday 1978'- written in Laav's handwriting- before setting it down. Closure was something that Sirius rarely wanted to receive. To him, it was an elusive myth. It made him question the point of his existence. It was so abrupt like a string being snapped - an unforeseen slap. People say that it'll get better. When? That things will change. For better? Clearly not. At least in his case. He felt like the part of him that wanted everything to end was taking over day by day. Sirius found his feet treading through the narrow hallway without a direction. This block of bricks was just another property he had inherited from the Black family as a gift from his father; a house for each of his sons. Knowing it seemed unwise in his father's eyes, Sirius used this opportunity to mold it into a home for The Order. An actual home for him to live in. A chance at actual happiness. But the place that was once filled with warmth and comfort, was nothing more than a ground to grieve and defend. 

            He stood in front of the door, vacantly staring at the piece of wood in front of him. The handle felt icy in his fingers as he held it and he stopped to think twice. Was this really what he wanted? Was he ready for this? Before he could answer himself, his hand was already pushing aside the door. Spotting the light switch by the door, Sirius flicked it down, flooding the room with light. It was truly a mystery for him to be standing anywhere near his father's presence. Giving the table a look-see, he traced the edge of it, accumulating dust at the tip of his finger along the way. He slowly sat himself down on the leather seat. The aura around him was silent. The people he had known his whole life was now nothing but a stranger. As much as he tried to run away from his feelings, somehow they always found their way back to him- haunting him over and over again. Here he was tonight, seated in the man-whom-he-loathed's study. He couldn't help himself, could he? After all, it seems that he was the only one who mourned for loss. Pathetic. His mother was long gone and his brother was rarely with him. Regulus was only seen out of his room once in a blue moon. That in fact, was an understatement. 

          Sirius grabbed the whiskey bottle in front of him and poured himself a glass. Taking a sip, he set it down and started to randomly look through all the drawers. They were all just a bunch of paperwork and folders about their family's past properties and whatsoever. Reaching the last one, he tugged on the bottom left drawer expecting it to roll out just like the others but it didn't. He gave the drawer another firm tug but to no avail. It was locked. Not fond of the idea of something being hidden, he made a dash for his room and grabbed his wand, returning back to the study. Crouching to the drawer's eye-level, Sirius cast the unlocking charm. "Alohomora," he mumbled, motioning a backward 'S' with his wand. As soon as the lock clicked, Sirius' hands fumbled to open the drawer to clear his mind once and for all.