4: A Grieved Birthday Party

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-July 31 1991-
Sirius sat silently, his dark eyes never leaving the crackling fire. He'd been sitting on the age-old couch tensely for most of the night, only leaving it twice in the span of four hours so that he could refill his glass with the strongest whiskey he owned. He raised a trembling hand, ignoring the clattering of the ice against the glass, and took another sip of the burning liquid, his gaze remaining on the fire burning in the dusty fireplace.

"Sirius."

Sirius didn't look up at the reproachful call of his name. He did not tear his eyes from the fire, instead choosing to take another drag of the whiskey, wishing the drink would soothe his pain and burn away the memories.

"Sirius, look at me."

Sirius didn't. He continued to stare lethargically, not fully there, and wallow in his misery.

"Sirius bloody Black, you look at me this instant!"

Sirius sighed, regretfully turning his gaze from the crackling fire to the angry man standing behind him. His amber eyes shone with disappointment, his beautiful face set in a deep scowl. His hands rested on his hips, and he was staring down at Sirius with anger and... Sirius took another long sip of his whiskey at the sight of pity in his lover's eyes.

"Sirius, give me that!" Remus snapped, stepping forward to wrestle the glass out of Sirius's unyielding grip. "What are you doing?! It's nearly one in the morning! How long has..." he trailed off, taking Sirius's disheveled state. He frowned, his eyebrows pinching together as he took a deep breath. "Bloody hell Siri, how much did you drink?!"

Sirius shrugged, looking back at the kitchen that was just barely visible from his position with a sigh. "The bottle was full when I started." he said. He winced at his haggard voice, and it only made Remus angrier.

"Full?! This... This bottle? That's sitting on the floor by your feet? This empty bottle?!" Remus cried. Sirius looked down, and sure enough, there was the bottle that he'd been slowly drinking from. It had been his father's favorite brand. Say what you will about the man, but his taste in alcohol was exquisite.

"Yep." Sirius said, popping the 'p' at the end of the word. He sighed, leaning his head back against the stuffy couch.

"Sirius you---" Remus took a deep breath, calming himself before he continued. "That is a lot of alcohol. And you're drinking alone, now? What's gotten into you? You promised me you'd stop doing this! I'm really getting worried about you, Siri. You're just sitting here, in this house, all day! That's not good for you! Especially given the memories you have of this place---"

"He would've been eleven today."

Remus's breath hitched in the back of his throat, effectively silencing the man's lecture. It was silent in the house, the only noise coming from the crackling fire by Sirius. Remus stared at Sirius and Sirius stared back, his onyx eyes holding no emotion. Finally, Remus sighed and walked over to him. He made a motion with his hands signalling Sirius to scoot over. He did. Remus sat down next to him and wrapped his arms around his trembling lover.

"He would have gotten his Hogwarts letter already," Sirius continued, looking absently into the fire. "We would have had such a big celebration. I would've embarrassed him real good in front of his friends, maybe give him a huge hug and kiss him all over his face."

Remus snorted. "I better he would have hated that."

"He would have," Sirius agreed. "But he would just laugh about it later. And we would've had a big cake. And I would have showered him with presents... And maybe I'd sneak him the map... And we would have sat around the fire way past his bedtime just talking about Hogwarts and what our years were like there... And... And..."

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