My Weasel

Chapter 55 -A little tipsy-

Sirius and I talked for the rest of the day, reading and laughing away our previous worries. We both knew that our problems wouldn't mysteriously disappear, but it was nice to let them slip our minds briefly. Sitting on the ground, with him simply stroking my hair, gave me a source of comfort that I thought had been long forgotten. I might have still been upset over his previous actions, but I of all people knew it was not good to dwell on such things.

At any moment one of my numerous nightmares could come to life, striking moments like these out of existence. So, I continued to lay with Sirius' hands combing through my wild hair, much similar to his own. Hours passed by as we enjoyed the presence of each others company, soaking in the last few days we had together. I wished this day would not come to an end, that I could just pretend to be my father's little girl for a while longer. Despite my hopes, I felt Sirius start to shift, signaling the time for sleep was upon us.

"Hey L.P. I think it's time to go to bed." He stretches, untwining his fingers from my black locks.

"Oh, yeah I guess it's rather late." I sigh, taking a look at the clock that read midnight.

"Your old man needs a little shut eye." Sirius winks, standing up while cracking his joints.

"Sure, cause you will definitely be sleeping while Moony's in your room." I smirk, closing the book in my lap.

"Well daughter, I never took you to be a hypocrite." He says slyly, leaning against the door frame.

"What do you mean?" I question, clearly perplexed.

"Aren't you sharing a room with a certain ginger?"My father grins wickedly as my face grows warm.

"Yes because Weasel and I are so in love." I respond, words dripping with sarcasm.

"I certainly hear a lot of movement coming from your room." Sirius responds, still grinning.

"That would be me shoving him on the ground and hexing his skin so that he grows boils." I fake and innocent smile.

"Of course." He winks once more, striding out into the hallway. I remain standing in the center of the room with my arms crossed defiantly. Muttering angrily to myself at my father's words, I also exit the door, walking down the stairs.

Reaching my own room, I fling it open and march towards the bed, disregarding Fred's curious look. Searching my pockets, I find the bottle of firewhiskey I had stolen and pop the cap off. Bringing the bottle to my lips, I take a nice long swig and feel the familiar burning sensation in my throat.

"And you called me the alcoholic." Fred's voice rings out across the room as he studies me with a smirk.

"Not in the mood Weasel." I reply, leaning my back against the bedpost.

"Well can you at least share?" He questions, crossing the room and sitting beside me on the bed.

"I suppose." I huff, passing him the bottle. He takes a long swig, addams apple bobbing up and down as he drinks.

"This tastes so fucking good." He groans, continuing to chug it down.

"Okay save some for the rest of us you git." I chastise, swiping the bottle from his grasp.

"Awww you're no fun." Fred pouts, looking at me with pleading eyes.

"Are you already drunk?" I scan him over, taking in his flushed cheeks.

"I am not that much of a lightweight." He rolls his eyes, sinking farther back into the bed.

"Really because if I'm not mistaken you look a little tipsy." I poke him in the arm and watch as he grins broadly.