thoughtformed | [video]

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I have no idea what's going on. This all seems like rubbish, and I need to go home... but I can't seem to get back on my own. There's something preventing me from.. ah. Leaving.

[There is a pause as he glances about at the people coming and going along the street outside the hospital. None of them seem to be paying him any mind. Since he normally can't go out without being recognised, he assumes he is in a Muggle city.]

The people I spoke to told me I've been enrolled in public school, and that I'll be assigned a roommate in a flat somewhere. [He makes an exasperated sort of sound.] I'm sorry, I don't have time for any of this.

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Seventeen?

How many birthdays did I miss?

[He shakes his head, trying to think, trying not to break down. Trying to make sense of everything. His fingers card through Harry's hair. He doesn't want to make this more difficult for him. he knows how this place can feel.]

I reckon I died. It's alright. Do you...

[Somewhere in the back of his mind, he can see Lily looking at him disapprovingly.]

...want a drink? We can talk. You can tell me what you want to.

[For a moment he starts adding it up in his head, but then he realises he doesn't even know how old Sirius is. He finally shrugs.]

It doesn't matter. You can make up for it this year, if we're truly stuck here. [He almost starts to smile, but then it drops from his face entirely and he feels as if he's having difficulty breathing. Harry had let that slip earlier when he was talking to Remus, but he doesn't think he said anything to Sirius that would have hinted at it.

His gaze lowers. As a rule, Harry is a horrible liar. Now is no different, especially with guilt gnawing at him.] It's not alright... [An audible, shaky breath.] I. Yeah.

Sorry!

[...great, Sirius. Good going. Why don't you make him cry while you're on it?

Sirius rubs Harry's shoulder a bit awkwardly, trying to tell himself that it's still for the best, ultimately, because this way at least Harry doesn't have to tell him.

He hasn't seen how he said anything to Remus, so he doesn't know Remus is dead, too. He just had a strong hunch about himself.]

Are you up for apparating?

No. It's... my fault.

[He looks up again, and it's as if he has to struggle to maintain eye contact.]

I'll tell you about it, if you want to hear it.

[A nod. As a kid who's never received any affection from the adults in his life, even something as small as Sirius' hand on his shoulder acts as a bit of an anchor.]

Harry...

[He knows that look, mostly because he's fairly sure he has that look. Sirius shakes his head.]

You just tell me what you want me to know.

[With him, he really won't push for more. He apparates them, hand staying on Harry's shoulder to take him along. They appear right inside the shop, upstairs where only him and Remus normally have access. There are notes scattered everywhere, books piled up, some opened, some closed, cauldrons by the fireplace, various experiments on the table and desks and, well, at least two chairs that aren't occupied.]

We didn't tidy up here... ever, really.

[He wants to tell Sirius everything, though. It just doesn't seem like a proper topic of conversation. Harry tries to put himself in the position of discovering that somehow, somewhere in the future, he will become permanently dead but will learn about it over a decade in advance. He finds that it only makes his head hurt to think about.]

...There's a lot to tell.

[Once he's regained his bearings after apparating, he has a look around. The untidiness doesn't bother him. It looks homey, rather.]

Is this your shop?

[He takes a bottle from the cupboard and fills two glasses handing one to Harry.]

We've got time.

This is above our shop, the actual shop is downstairs. This is where we work.

[He looks around and grins, pointing to a desk that has a lot of different kinds of wood on it.]

This is where our prototype broom was before Remus let it fly off. Do you fly?

[While he's admittedly never been any kind of a drinker, Harry accepts the glass and takes a sip. It ought to calm his nerves a bit, at least.

He picks up a twig in his other hand and rolls it between his fingers.]

I do, yeah. I was Seeker for Gryffindor.

[Yeah, Sirius just knocks it back. Although than he does think about how he should be a bit more responsible, so he just sets the glass aside without refilling it.

Also because he's beaming at Harry. Seeker? Gryffindor?]

That's our boy!

James would be so proud.

[Sirius is so proud. And he managed to say James' name without his mood darkening, even.]

[Harry's own mood lifts when he catches sight of Sirius' smile. He's had this conversation before, but his godfather's approval would never cease to mean more to him than that of the entire wizarding world.

It also seems like a safe route to take, conversation-wise. They'll have time to talk about the darker topics later.]

They don't play Quidditch here, I've heard. Well... [He makes a small gesture with the twig he's holding.] There aren't any brooms, are there? Where did it go?

[Sirius sits down in one of the two chairs not filled with books and shrugs, grinning at the twig.]

We're not precisely sure. Also, Remus hasn't agreed to my plan for catching it yet, so if we don't find it, we might just start over. Care to help?

What's his plan?

[He takes the other seat, then sips again at his drink.]

If it doesn't work out... well, I'd help, but I've never enchanted a broomstick. D'you really know how to do that?

You know what? He never said. Presumably he doesn't have one or if he does, it's a boring one.

[He shrugs, turning the empty glass in his hand.]

Apparently we don't know yet. That's why they call it experimenting.

Oh. Yeah, I'd love to help, then. I've got my wand. Thought for sure those doctors were going to take it from me when I, ah-- pulled it out on them..

[He looks a bit sheepish at that as he lays his wand on the desk. Well, he's just come out of a war; what were those people expecting?]

I have this, too. I reckon you might have seen it before.

[The next item he pulls out of his robes is like liquid silver in his hands. It flutters as he shakes it out straight. His father's Invisibility Cloak.]

I'd have done the same if I had had it on me when I came in.

[Coming out of a war himself, he's definitely not blaming him. Sirius' heart just about stops when for a moment he just sees a young man looking so much like James holding an Invisibility Cloak. He cleared his throat and swallowed, reaching out to run his fingers over the material.]

I wondered what might have happened to it.

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