Firewhisky Kisses

Ginny moved toward the table, but stopped to watch Sirius take another drink. She imagined that firewhisky must feel like warm, blissful oblivion compared to her nightmares. Without another thought, she poured her water down the drain and took a seat across from Sirius. She set her empty glass on the table with a dull thud.

Sirius looked up at the sound, and his eyes widened slightly. "No way," he said, shaking his head emphatically. "Your mother will kill me."

"She's at St. Mungo's tonight with Dad, and she won't be back until morning," Ginny replied evenly. "She'll never know."

Sirius continued to shake his head. "You're fourteen—"

"And it's not my first time," she said firmly, cutting him off.

Sirius gave her a hard look, as if deciding whether to believe her.

"At the Hog's Head. Loads of times," she added, careful to maintain eye contact. This wasn't completely true, and she didn't want to give herself away. The barkeep had given her a bit of firewhisky only a couple of times. Fred and George commonly snuck it in from Hogsmeade, but they never shared much with her.

To Ginny's surprise, Sirius' face broke into a grin. "Do you always lie so easily?"

Ginny cocked her head to the side, feigning confusion. She wasn't sure whether Sirius was bluffing, and she wasn't going to let him goad her into giving herself away. It was best to say as little as possible.

Sirius rolled his eyes, but Ginny didn't flinch. Finally, Sirius grabbed the bottle and tipped it into her glass, giving her a generous pour. "You'd better not tell anyone."

Ginny felt a thrill of excitement as she slid the glass toward her, slopping a few drops of firewhisky over the edge. "I'm good with secrets," she said cooly, trying to hide her eagerness.

"Seems like all we do is keep secrets in this house," he replied, his eyes suddenly dark again. Ginny wondered if he was obliquely referring to the Order. Sirius and her mother had disagreed fiercely on whether to share information from the Order with Harry and the others.

Ginny decided it was best not to press him lest he change his mind about the firewhisky and send her back to bed. The two of them sat in silence for a while, sipping their drinks. The dark, amber liquid burned her throat as she drank, making her eyes water. She avoided Sirius' gaze, hoping he wouldn't notice her inexperience.

"So what sorrows are you drowning in?" he said gruffly, breaking the long silence.

Ginny jumped, startled by his abruptness. "S-Sorry?" she coughed, choking on her drink.

"Nobody drinks firewhisky alone at midnight unless there's something they're trying to forget," he replied casually.

"I could ask you the same," she said sharply, hoping to put him off.

But Sirius was unperturbed. "You know my story," he said hollowly.

Ginny sighed as she felt the warmth from the firewhisky steal over her body. It wasn't hard to guess what kept Sirius up at night—the horrors of twelve years in prison, guilt over the murder of his best friend, frustration at his continuing house arrest, shame for his inability to give Harry the home he needed. After a dozen years in a prison that forced him to relive his worst memories, he was imprisoned again in the very house where many of those bad memories were made. And there was also the fact that Harry was leaving tomorrow for Hogwarts...

Ginny took another drink and said nothing. He would have to force it out of her if he wanted her to talk about herself. She leaned back in her chair, feeling the tension melt away from her shoulders.