Obsidian & Bronze {Fred Weasley}

37. An ode to moving on

"Ardelle?"

His voice was soft and gentle, although I could tell that was only from its quiet pitch, as it grew louder the huskier and more gravel tones filtered in, although they were far from disruptive, rather they brought a familiar comfort.

"Mhh" I hummed, slightly disoriented, my soaked hair stuck against my forehead and my lips numb and icey. My throat was almost frozen shut and the pressure in my head was mounting rapidly, my jaw was locked and my neck ached as my head lolled off the side of the bench I found myself upon.

"Poppet, get up" The voice, I had now recognised belonged to Sirius, whispered, grabbing my arm gently and hauling me to stand, lacing his arm around my waist to steady my wobbling frame. He didn't sound angry, or perhaps I was too wrecked to acknowledge the tone.

The second my feet hit the ground, the consequences of the night before hit me in full force, a wave of indescribable nausea overtaking my body as black spots started to invade my vision. A sickening vibrancy began to flood my senses and wash away the last of my coherency, as I released a staggered groan, the consequences of what in particular was hazy however, as the night relayed itself in broken pieces and blurry images.

"Where am I?" I moaned bitterly, a lingering taste of something sour spread across my lower lip, my voice so gruff and broken I couldn't be sure it was even mine.

"You tell me" Sirius started with a slightly harsher tone I was able to detect now, a tone that would have paired nicely with a fold of his arms and the tap of his foot had he not been fueling all his strength into supporting my weight as I hung onto him.

Cloudesley Road, I knew it from the moment I began to glance around, immediately recognising 'The Crown' pub behind me, although it was a lot less lively than I recall it had been the night before. Just next to The Crown was a large rattling van, bin men, that I could tell were unnerving Sirius and his sheltered life away from Muggles and their way of normalcy.

"How did you get here, it's six o'clock in the morning?" Sirius breathed with a throaty chuckle, having dropped any pretense of disappointment.

I knew exactly how I got here, or why rather. And that's when it hit me, the exact reason I had escaped and snuck my way into a pub in the first place, the bleeding damage seeping its way through my chest, the agony tearing through me once again, one that no amount of Vodka could subside.

Fred Weasley is how I got myself there, hungover on a bench at six in the morning, feeling like something the cat dragged in, and of course I knew full well all decisions I made once I walked away from him in the pouring and violent rain were my own, it was far easier to blame him for now.

"I'm sorry" I croaked shyly, my legs painfully nimble and shaking, something Sirius soon noticed as he sat me down on the bench, his arm still firmly supporting my back. I dropped my head onto his shoulder, the smell of his aftershave making my drunken stomach churn. "How did you even find me?"

Sirius laughed audibly, "If you are trying to stay hidden maybe don't cast spells underage in the middle of muggle London where your Auror cousin can track you"

Fucking Tonks, but he proposed a fair argument.

"Now tell me, why are you here?" He sighed, squeezing my upper arm in comfort, his other hand holding mine in his lap, his black finger nails chipping in the corners, something I noticed as he traced shapes in my palm.

"Fred broke up with me" I stated plainly, my words devoid of all emotion, no tears followed, my body had no ability to make any, I had simply used them all.

"Let's get you home"

*****

"You don't have to come, it's not too late to head home with Sirius and wait for Harry and I there?" Remus explained quietly as we walked toward the station, Kings Cross slowly coming into view over the busy street.