Odessa {S.B}

CHAPTER XVIII

A week passed before Sirius left his room. He surprised the Potters by silently joining them for breakfast, and not so silently wolfing down his full English. He was a teenage boy who hadn't eaten much for seven days after all.

The Potters couldn't help but stare at Sirius. He had spent the last seven days lying silently in a dark bedroom, and waking them up at night with his night terrors, but now had brought a light and cheery aura to the kitchen.

"That was delicious, Mrs. Potter," Sirius praised after letting out a belch that she would usually have scolded him for. "Do you have any more black pudding?"

"I think you've eaten it all, mate," said James, staring between his best friend and the dish that had been full of the dark slices less than five minutes earlier.

"I can rustle up some more if you're still hungry, sweetheart," Mrs. Potter offered, slightly worried at the immediacy of the turnaround in Sirius' mood.

"No thanks, that's alright, Mrs. Potter," said Sirius. "What's everyone up to today then?"

"Another exciting day in the office for me," said Fleamont.

"I've got an afternoon and evening shift at the hospital. I was hoping to do some shopping this morning," Euphemia said.

"No plans today," James said solemnly.

Sirius began clearing up everyone's finished plates and glasses. "I fancy going for a long walk this morning."

"That sounds nice," said Fleamont, ruffling his newspaper.

Euphemia agreed. "Some fresh country air would do you the world of good."

Sirius and James set off for their walk after Fleamont had left for work and Euphemia had left to go shopping in Diagon Alley. James had somehow already outgrown the school robes she'd bought him at the beginning of fifth year and whilst unpacking Sirius' bag she'd noticed that he hadn't brought his school things along with him.

"I don't know how you don't melt in all that," James said in reference to Sirius' punk attire. His heavy Dr Martens, ripped black jeans and leather jacket were hardly appropriate for the thirty degree heat wave they were experiencing that summer.

"Looking cool keeps me cool," Sirius said, holding his black aviators up to wink at James.

"You seem to be in a good mood," James commented, unsure if he should just let the circumstances of Sirius' arrival drop or try and get him to open up about it. James had come to learn that his best friend had a tendency to repress his emotions.

"Can't stay down forever, Jamesy," Sirius said, clamping a hand down on his friend's shoulder. "I've moped about, had a think, and all I see are positives. I'm finally free and the world is my oyster."

"I get that mate, but you gotta admit there are some things to talk about?" James persisted. "Like, I hated your plan anyway but what about Odessa? Or what actually happened the night you left; how that's affected you? Mum said there are people at St Mungo's whose job it is to talk to people about feelings and bad shit they've experienced."

"Prongs, with all due respect, shut up," said Sirius. "I know there are things I have to deal with in my head, and things to say to Odessa, but right now I just want to go on a walk with my best mate, smoke a joint by the river, maybe even go for a swim, and enjoy summer."

"Well I don't have any weed with me."

"You might not, but I did pack the essentials when I ran away," Sirius said, pulling a squashed cigarette packet out of his jacket pocket and showing James the few joints inside.