"All right, Padfoot?"

Remus's soothing voice called down from the top of the stairs joining with the squeaks of the old wood and settling Sirius' jarred nerves. It had always been that way between the two of them. Sirius would arrive at Kings cross each September a bottle of fizzy water waiting to explode and Remus was always there to settle him down.

"Fuck. I hate this place, mate."

Remus sighed as he watched the animagus flick his cigarette away before wandlessly disappearing the butt in midair. Sirius rubbed his hands over his eyes and through his hair as if he could pull his frustration out of the long black follicles.

"I know," Remus said pulling out the wooden chair next to his friend, his brother, resting a reassuring hand on Sirius's shoulder.

The Order meeting had long since ended leaving the two the last remaining members in Grimmauld Place. The Weasleys had been the first to leave. Molly made sure to pack up leftovers for Sirius to have between now and next month's meeting. She didn't do it out of concern for him, that was for damn sure. It was more of an off handed way to take care of Harry, her surrogate son. Sirius hated that she thought of herself as more of a parent than he should be.

Kingsley and Tonks had left shortly after the Weasleys. While discussing further plans with the Ministry, Tonks gave a slight nod and a wink toward Remus as the walked past. Sirius couldn't help but notice how Tonks' eyes seemed to always drift to a certain werewolf throughout the meetings. Remus would stare diligently at the speaker to avoid Tonks' intense gaze, all the while his cheeks turning more and more pink. Sirius smiled to himself at the image and took another cigarette out of his pocket, conjuring a small bluebell flame in his hand to light it.

"It'll only be worse when you leave," Sirius sighed.

"You know I'll return as soon as I can." Remus smiled softly but it didn't reach his eyes. He knew that leaving his friend here in his own personal prison was almost as bad as staying locked in Azkaban. "Besides, you'll have the next order meeting to look forward to."

"And what the fuck am I going to do then, huh? All I ever do is wait around this rotting hell hole. I can't even write to Harry as much as I want," he barked at his friend flicking the ashes from his cigarette into his cold tea cup. Remus leaned back in his chair while it squeaked it's protest underneath him and Sirius stared at him. Time had not treated either of them well but it seemed to treat Remus worst.

"Just be careful, yeah? It would kill me to be the last Marauder." Remus grimaced at the thought and what was left unsaid between them. "Today went well though. Didn't it?" the werewolf asked, trying to change the subject.

Sirius smiled lightly as he thought of his earlier excursion to King's Cross dispensing Harry and the others aboard the Hogwart's Express. His eyes closing as he tried to remember the feel of the sun on his face and the fresh air in his lungs. He had felt so free running down the platform as he barked at his Godson, sending him back to the only place either of them could call their true home.

"They'll probably be finishing up the Welcoming Feast by now," Sirius sighed before taking another long drag off his cigarette. "What I wouldn't give for some Hogwarts pudding."

"Treacle Tart with ice cold pumpkin juice!" Remus' eyes shut as he savored the memory and a sigh of pleasure left his lips. Sirius raised an eyebrow at his friend. Maybe he needed to send an owl to Tonks. It had clearly been too long since Remus had gotten laid. Remus opened his eyes and caught Sirius' stare.

"You know I bet Kreacher could whip some up for you if you really wanted."

Sirius scoffed at the thought, "Yes, but I think the poison he would add might throw off the flavor a bit."

Long after the candles of the kitchen had burned out, long after Remus had said his final goodbye, Sirius sat alone in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld place. The glass tumbler of firewhiskey in front of him never seemed to empty as he downed most of the bottle. The only sound around him was the crackling of the fire as it threw shadows across the room and causing Sirius' imagination to run away from him. Stretching across the walls of the decrepit kitchen, they began to form into the shapes of all his past failures. Sirius watched as his Mother's form danced across the wall.

You filthy, traitorous scum. A stain on my most ancient and noble house.

"You need new material, mother dearest," Sirius breathed as he threw back another gulp of fire whisky. He had heard his mother spewing hatred for most of his life. He had hopes that it would stop when she was dead, but even in death Walburga Black wanted the last word. Not to be left alone, the light flickered into another shape, stretching taller and thinner, turning into his brother Regulus.

You left me, Sirius! You knew what I would have to face. You knew the responsibilities of being the heir to the most Noble and Ancient House of Black. You turned your back on it, turned your back on me. I was left to pick up the pieces. You are no longer my brother! I no longer have a brother. I have no one now.

Slamming the bottle harder than necessary, Sirius refilled his glass. He fought back the stab of pain that the memory of his brother always brought. He forced it behind the burn of the fire whiskey down his throat. So what if he had left Regulus alone in an abusive house. He couldn't very well take him with him to Hogwarts at the age of 11. And besides, he didn't force Reggie into Slytherin. He didn't force Reggie to stop talking to him. Yea, he could have reached out to him more. And of course he could have tried and get Reggie to see that blood purity was hogwash, but his brother wouldn't have listened anyway. Besides it wasn't like Sirius could have brought him to the Potters when he escaped. So, he had left his brother. Alone. With nowhere to go and no one to save him.

The shadows took shape again flicking more pain on Sirius as he saw the shape of Marlene swaying before him.

I gave you everything, Sirius. I gave you all of me the second you called for me to wait for you in the hallway. One look and my heart was yours. Looking back now, I should have kept walking.

He lit a cigarette with his bluebell flame and summoned another bottle of firewhiskey. The ghosts of his past weren't going to leave him alone tonight. He knew Marlene had been in love with him. He knew that he was using her, but back then the idea of settling down was too much for Sirius. Too real. There was a war going on and only idiots would have sealed themselves to another with a war going on. Let alone long enough to have sprogs. Taking a deep drag he exhaled and watch the smoke swirl and mix with the ghosts of the shadows until he saw the form of Lily before him.

If you don't stop your ways you will end up alone, Sirius. Alone with only memories and fire whiskey to keep you company.

Sirius couldn't help but chuckle at the irony of her words as he drank another shot of firewhiskey. The first bottle always was there to dull the pain, the second would make him forget himself completely. Lily always knew how to make Sirius see straight. One sentence and she could build him up when he was low. Another and she would cut him down to where he belonged. The first time Sirius had watched her slap James across the face, he knew that he would always love her. Maybe that was his problem back then, no one could hold a candle to Lily in Sirius' eyes. But Lily only had eyes for James.

I hate being stuck here, Sirius. I'm going mad knowing the war is raging and I'm a sitting duck in my home. It's hell. I don't know what I would do if I didn't have Lily and Harry, mate.

Sirius knew all too well what it was like being stuck in hell. Suffocating on your own breaths as you struggle to make it out of bed only to realize there was no point of it anyway. Sirius' days faded together in a haze of alcohol and memories with only the occasional letter from Harry and Remus to keep him sane.

The hard chair was becoming uncomfortable but all that waited him upstairs was a cold empty bed. Choosing the kitchen he continued to drink hoping that the alcohol would be enough to keep the demons away. Though it wasn't enough to keep away his ghosts. It was never enough.

Sirius woke with a start, water filling his lungs as he coughed and wiped at his face.

"What the fuck?" he growled anger coursing through him. He was having a lovely dream. One that he would have gladly returned to. "What the fuck just happened," he asked again to no one in particular.

Surveying the room he saw it unchanged from how he left it. The empty bottle and crystal tumbler still in front of him on the scratchy wooden table. The old Black china in the cabinet around him. The fireplace was empty from having burned out the night before.

Rubbing his eyes he growled again as his head pounded. Why the fuck was he wet?

"KREACHER!"

With a pop the ancient elf appeared in the kitchen in front of him looking much like he usually did, just as wrinkly and just as dirty.

"The traitor has called," the elf rasped glaring at Sirius.

"Shut the fuck up you bloody bat. Where have you been? And why am I wet?" Sirius spat summoning a dishtowel from the counter to dry himself off.

"Kreacher knows not," the elf replied. "Kreacher's been upstairs all night."

"I don't know what kind of fucking game you think this is, but I advise you to leave me alone in the future," Sirius growled.

"Kreacher knows not what the traitor says," Kreacher muttered. "Kreacher plays not a game. Kreacher just wants to be alone with his Mistress."

"Well, go back up to the attic then. Go on, get the fuck away from me," Sirius barked and kicked out as the elf scuttled out of the kitchen.

He rubbed his face with the towel and groaned at his pounding skull. Bits and images from his dream came fluttering back to him.

"What am I going to do with you, Sirius?" the brunette angel whispered low, her warm breath caressing Sirius' ear. He tried to reach out, her warmth calling to him. She brushed his hair off his cheek and he turned his face into her palm savoring her touch.

"Sirius…" she called again and he grunted a response as her curls tickled his cheek. She smelled vaguely familiar, like cinnamon and vanilla and something else.

"Sirius, wake up," she continued softly. Her hand slipped up his cheek and threaded through his dark hair caressing it with delicate fingers and he let out a soft sigh. Until she twisted his strands tightly in her fingers

"Sirius!"

"Ow! What the fuck!" he spat before he could stop himself and he squinted in the light, twisting around trying to find her around him as as he rubbed the back of his head where she had pulled his hair.

"Why do you always have to be such a bastard?" the angel spoke softly. "A beautiful bastard, but a bastard nonetheless."

Sirius tried to follow the sound of her voice but he was deep in his haze of alcohol. The angel rubbed her soft tiny hand over his own and he body felt calmed instantly.

"At least you're my beautiful bastard," She sighed and Sirius opened his eyes gently towards her. Her curls framed her face and she shone in a brilliant light.

"Who are you?" he asked as he squinted and blinked at her brilliance.

"Oh Sirius, you drink too much," she sighed. "You need to drink less firewhiskey and more water."

"Well, isn't that the bloody fucking truth," Sirius sighed as he stretched his sore muscles and took a deep breath coughing as the air filled his lungs. Walking to the sink he grabbed a glass from a cabinet and filled it with water before chugging down the liquid. The pounding in his head seemed to get louder and louder.

Suddenly, the middle of the ancient kitchen was a small flash of blue light. For a moment time seemed to stand still as Sirius stared into the pea sized sphere before blue light that fluttered ahead of him.

"Bloody fuck?" he said as the light seemed to shoot around, illuminating the room around him with brilliant blinding blue light. As quickly as it had come it was gone.

Sirius stood with his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He didn't dare breath as he watched and waited and deciding to immediately cut his firewhiskey habit by at least half, maybe a fourth. It was clearly doing things to his head.

He rubbed his eyes to get the burn out of them and when he opened them he realized he wasn't alone. Quicker than he expected in his inebriated state, the animagus had his wand in front of him ready to attack. Standing with their back facing him was a woman. Her dark chestnut curls were piled on top of her head in a messy bun and Sirius took a moment to take in her petite form in the loose white sweater and cut off jean shorts. He stopped for a moment on her pert arse before drinking in her long tan legs down to her tiny feet in converse shoes. He smiled in approval allowed himself another glance before he realized she was mumbling to herself.

"Oh my. I did it. I finally did it!" She laughed out loud. She had a tinkling laugh that filled the kitchen with warmth as she bounced on her toes hugging herself. "I can't believe it. Well, I can believe it actually," she giggled smugly before letting out a loud cheering "Whoohoo!"

Startling Sirius he jumped back and hit the chair behind him causing it to fall to the floor with a loud crack.

The woman jumped up with her wand in her hand holding it pointed at the animagus with a quickness that shocked Sirius as he stared at her fierce stance. He watched as fear filled her eyes as she held her strong stance firm. Sirius knew immediately that this was not a witch to be messed with.

He watched as her dark chocolate eyes grew wide with surprise and then fear again. Her arms began shaking slightly showing her nerves as her breath came out in a ragged sob.

"Sirius?" she whispered softly and as soon as her words hit him he realized who it was standing in front of her.

"Hermione?"