|Scene Title||A Perilous Party|
|Synopsis||Sio and Jack meet Sirius at Grimmauld Place for dinner. Things … almost end badly, but the evening is salvaged by an unexpected apology.|
|Date||October 28, 1995|
|Watch For||Awkwardness abounds! Also! Foreshadowing.|
|Logger||I am the Bad Wolf|
The kitchen is spotlessly clean, while not exactly a first in recent memory, the fact that one can almost see a reflection in the copper pans just might be. Since coming home, Sirius has made a strenuous effort to keep the place clean, if not gleaming as it once did. Perhaps whatever bargain that was struck to get the kitchen to this state is the reason he's seated at the head of the long table, staring moodily into the fire and drumming his fingers against the scrubbed surface of the table. While no Order meeting is planned, there is a kettle full of bubbling beef stew, a loaf of fresh bread with butter standing by and some ice cream from Fortescue's as dessert.
Swathed in a heavy wool peacoat, jeans and trainers, Siobhan Noble pauses at the door to Number 12. The stiff wind outside plays with her hair, twirling as much of it about as possible with the black cab-driver-style hat shoved at an angle down over her brow. She gives Jack a glance and a brave smile over her shoulder - she's been quiet ever since they met in Diagon for lunch, but has at least made an effort to keep up her end of conversation. Raising a hand and pushing inwards, the youngest of Hogwarts' professors is careful to wipe her feet on the mat, even though she has to juggle a few brown-wrapped bottles to do so. "Sirius?" she calls out into the hall. "You in, mate?"
Jack, in stark contrast to little sister, is enthusiastic. He grins, rocking back on his heels before copying Siobhan's foot-swiping motions. Giving more proof to his bouncy mood, Jack whistles. It's not loud, but it's definitely a whistle one would call a dog with. See what he did there? "Here, Sirius. Here boy." He takes a couple more steps into the room, and waits for their host.
No sooner than Siobhan speaks up in the hall than Walburga Black awakens. Her curtains fly open and she begins her screeching, "FILTH. NO BETTER THAN MUDBLOODS STAINING THE HALLS OF MY FATHERS."
"SHUT IT, YOU OLD BAT!," Sirius roars as he thunders up the stairs from the kitchen. Wand out and brandished like a sword, it's given a rather violent wave as the curtains are forced closed. Yup. Looks like he's in. The hand not holding his wand, is pointed at Jack and Siobhan. You two, with him. It'd be a delightful day were that painting ever to come down, but perhaps somewhere deep down, Sirius likes having it there. In some twisted, dark, depressive way that is. "Hateful old witch, silencing charms don't work on her. C'mon, downstairs, it's actually clean down there. Oh and Jack? Careful with the dog jokes mate, I may just revert." Ruh-roh.
Smiling a little bit more genuinely than she has all day, Siobhan steps a bit further into the hall and bobs a polite curtsey to the madwoman's painting. "Hullo, Auntie Wally," she offers with a mild enough affection that some may wonder if she heard the harridan screeching at their arrival. "It's good to see you, too." Sirius' thundering and curtain-closing, however, seem to startle her. For whatever reason, a blush rises hot over otherwise pale cheeks and she is quick to duck behind him and down the stairs. "I'll just put these in to cool, shall I?" A bit overly-bright in tone, there, but she's dashing down the stairs before anyone can comment. She thinks.
"You mean you've changed?" Okay, last jab. Then, he'll be a good boy. Jack smiles at his sister's comments to the painting. He gestures to the stairs. "Shall we?" He grins and looks back at the painting. "She's in rare form, isn't she?" It may not be clear which 'she' Jack is talking about. He pulls off his greatcoat and drapes it over his arm. "How you been, mate?"
"Don't encourage her, I'll burn the bloody place down around her if I have to in order to keep her quiet." Sirius just might mean it. Would be an excuse to move to a happier place, that is, if he's capable of letting himself be happy. Siobhan gets a bit of what you could call the stink eye. Oh, perhaps he knows. Gossip travels /fast/. "Fine. Trying to keep busy, which isn't terribly difficult." Not with some of the work for the Order these days. "You? I'd ask Siobhan, but I already got the earful."
Already in the kitchen, Siobhan is unwrapping the brown paper from her arm's load of booze. Three large bottles of highest quality meade sit side-by-side in a line down part of the counter. All three are stored carefully in the icebox and Sio checks the freezing charms on the old thing before gently closing the door. The crinkling of empty brown paper as she wads it into a ball doesn't quite hide the sound of conversation as the two 'boys' head down the stairs. When Siobhan's head pokes out the kitchen doorway, she's leveling a sharp look at their host. "Sirius, don't you dare." Considering how many Aurors were present, she's not taking any chances as to just what he'd heard. "Drinks are chilling," she grumbles and then ducks back into the kitchen. There's a perfectly lovely painting of Phineas in there somewhere and she hasn't gotten to torment him for too long. Of course that's why she's in there. Not hiding at all.
"I bet Rosie could get her to be quiet for a while." Jack attempts to calm the storm even as he sees gathering clouds. "She's pretty awesome, my Rosie. You know we had a Seeker's game the other day? Haven't gotten to do that in ages." He makes his way all the way down stairs, and whistles again, this time a wolf-whistle. "Lookin' good, Sirius." It's a definite improvement on when he stayed here for a while. "Looks like you finally got that elf to work, huh?" Or did it himself. "Paintings all behaving better now?" He'd been going through them. "Didn't miss any, did I?" He gazes back upstairs, considering one particular painting. Something Sirius says makes him tilt his head in curiosity. "Earful?" What?
As if Sirius needs alcohol. It can either improve his mood or worsen it, circumstances depending. "Don't I dare what? Lecture you on behavior or burn the house down? The latter sounds more fun, although I'd hate to put out the neighboring muggles. Hmm… I'm sure with a few charms I could contain the blaze. Cleansing by fire, it's the best way to be sure. You two, get a head start up the stairs." There's a look of absolute seriousness as he aims his wand at the kitchen table. He'll do it! "Oh nevermind, perhaps later," he grumps slightly as he holsters his wand and moves into the kitchen properly. All the bloody gold his family has and they had to invest in a narrow arsed kitchen. Hmph. "I bribed Kreacher with my brother's photo album from Hogwarts. Once he stopped crying, he actually cleaned up this room. We'll see if there's any further improvements upstairs later. I didn't quite trust him to cook as well as clean." At least it's a start, right? "Hardly. The paintings never behave, you saw my lovely mother." Oh the sarcasm dripping from his voice! He gestures for the pair to have a seat at the table as he fetches the hated goblets of his forebears. At least there'll be some good brew to place within.
"Circe, and I thought Severus had mood swings." It's grumbled under her breath, meant to be something between just herself and Phineas' scowling portrait, but obviously Siobhan hadn't anticipated to turn around and find Sirius right there. Oh. Goblets. Duh. Flushing the color of her brother's House, Siobhan ducks past the former convict and slides into one of the empty places, leaving the head of the table and the one across from her empty. Siobhan blinks, then, processing something she'd only just missed. "Kreacher was … crying?" There's something dangerously like sympathy in her voice. Shifting in her seat, Sio grumbles something about there being some perfectly nice paintings upstairs thankyouverymuch, but instead of giving that grumble a proper voice, she simply stares down at her plate, fiddling with the hem of her jumper.
"Lady Walburga was pretty polite to me when I talked to her." Jack shrugs. Of course, he turned on the charm, and kept any mention of his friendship with Sirius completely and utterly out of the conversation. He considers saying something to him about yelling at his mother, even in portrait form, but he's learned a little self-preservation from his sister. Maybe. "I meant any weird curses though." Nobody's explained the earful comment. He lets it slide for now, though, thinking of something else. "Have you heard anything about that bloke Rosie was talking about?" He doesn't even mention the guy's name, but maybe it's enough for Sirius to recognize what he means.
Jack looks over at Siobhan and frowns. "You alright, Rosie-luv?" He leans forward a little, and stretches a hand toward her.
"Yes," Sirius says with a little disgust in his voice. "Got bogies all over the cover of the book. You'd think he'd just been given a thousand galleons." He rolls his pale eyes at Jack. Everyone likes his mother. What the hell is going on with the world!? "Lucky for you lot then," he grumbles. The family hatred will continue. "Nothing that I haven't been able to handle. The Blacks and weird curses tend to go hand in hand." He smirks, and it's rather pained, "I wouldn't be alright if I were her," he says cryptically, still not ready to be the one to explain to Jack about certain indiscretions. "And no. I've not heard much about the bloke. Keeping himself quiet, that one."
"If I gave you a picture book of James, you'd probably get a little emotional about it yourself," she snaps. No, it isn't fair, but House Elves care deeply about their families. At least the ones she knows do. About to open her mouth and answer - probably for the five billionth time - that yes, Jack, she's fine, Siobhan is silenced by Sirius' timely interruption. This time, however, all the fight seems to drain right out of her. She knows she screwed up. Shoulders slump forward and she closes her eyes for a minute, dragging enough control together to get up and go grab one of the three bottles. She returns and sets it on the table before once again taking her seat. "S'meade," she explains needlessly.
Jack reaches over and opens the bottle, casting an old Pureblood-family charm some enterprising wizard or witch invented just to remove corks. He gives it the requisite moment to 'breathe' and then pours, first into Siobhan's goblet, then into Sirius' then into his own. "I'd probably be a little weird, myself." Jack nods a little. It's no secret that he idolized the Mauraders, and the deceased always keep their place. So, now while he might not be as idealistic about Remus or Sirius, he'll always think of James that way. "Alright. Just wanted to make sure the pictures I'd been taking care of had been better. I mean, I wasn't exactly — professional during that time." He takes a sip of the meade. "Oh, Rosie. This is the good stuff." He throws her a wink. He might've been there when she picked it up, but he still thinks it's good.
There's a look of mingled disgust and pity on Sirius's face as he decides to serve up the stew and bread as Jack pours out the mead. Poor Sio, she's got to be confused. Young and all that, but honestly, Snape? Potion or no potion, there had to be better chaps at the school party.. speaking of which. "So. HOW did the punch get spiked? There are better ways to have a laugh at the school. That was bloody stupid of the responsible party. It was a dangerous and rather harmful trick to play. Of all the pranks James, Remus and I played, we wouldn't have pulled such a dirty thing." Unless Snivellus was involved of course. "Here we are trying to keep those idiots safe and someone pulls a stunt like that." He pointedly ignores Siobhan's statement about sentimentality. Kreacher has the feelings of a mountain troll.
There's a moment of sheer, unadulterated panic on Siobhan's face when Sirius jumps right on to the punch and the party. She stares at him, wide-eyed, completely incapable of forming a single intelligent thing to say while he dishes out the grub. Not even Jack's attempt at cheer manages to shake her out of it. It's a state of blind panic that might have continued on for several minutes if Sirius hadn't - once again - managed to stomp right on the Big Red Button of Sio's temper. "Right, because you were complete angels," she snaps, eyes going from melancholy mud to sharp cinnamon in a heart's breath. "It sounds exactly like something you'd have done, actually." Given Jack's stories. "And it's nothing when you consider that without Potter's timely bout of conscience, Severus would be dead or worse." Oh, yes. She got told that story, too - and not by Jack. "Your definition of 'dirty' is hopelessly skewed." Her napkin is wrung between her hands and she grinds her teeth before dropping it on the table beside her place setting. "This was a mistake." And she's pushing her chair back and darting into the kitchen to grab her coat and scarf and hat.
Jack glances between sister and friend. When Sio gets up to grab her things, he stands as well. "Lovely to see you, Sirius. We'll reschedule." When — or if — Sirius and Siobhan can be in the same room with one another without killing each other. He gestures to the meade. "Keep it." Maybe it'll help smooth things over. He does retain some of his father's lessons after all. "Have a pleasant afternoon, Sirius." And he'll place his arm on Siobhan, if she'll let him, and guide her from the room before things can get worse.
"Oh bloody… sit down," Sirius says, in an almost defeated manner. "No we weren't angels. We were stupidly arrogant berks, we were, but we wouldn't have taken away free will en masse, and that's what happened, according to what I heard." Maybe he's grown up a smidge too, and he's rightfully concerned about the kids. "As far as where Snape's concerned, well, we were a bit blinded. Ok, more than a bit. Look, sit down, okay? There's a difference in pulling jokes and taking away someone's inhibitions. Alright, this was a stupid topic to jump to, and an even more stupid way to bring it up."
Siobhan is already into her coat and winding the scarf around her neck when Jack touches her arm and Sirius' apology registers with her. Jerking a little out of Jack's grip, she gives him an apologetic look and whispers a 'Stay with him?'. Leaning back against the doorway between eating-and-meeting room and kitchen, she lets her eyes slide closed. "You're right, Sirius. That is what happened. Something else got into my head and made me do things I shouldn't have." This bit's probably news to Jack. But Jack'll also know how huge such a thing is to Siobhan, who very much has a thing about keeping her own mind. No wonder she's been so off-balance today. "I drank something without checking it first and somebody important to me paid for it." It's very plain that she feels a lot of guilt about that. Gingerly - moving like a small wild thing, wary but hungry - she shrugs back out of her coat. This time, however, she drapes it over the back of the chair, within easy reach - just in case. "The bottles were for him anyway, Jack." Siobhan's attempt to move the conversation back to neutral-ish ground. "A thank-you present for not making Sunday any worse than it already was."
"It's your call, luv." Jack whispers back. When she explains a little of what happened, the older brother winces. "Yikes." That's one of the worst things she could have had happened. "I'm sorry." It's whispered, but it's pretty clear what he's saying. He sits down again, and snorts. "How about them Harpies?" Suuubject change. Or something.
He grins as he takes a bite of stew. "This is good stuff, Sirius. Warms right down to my toesies." Maybe a little bit of silliness will help? He's grasping at straws here. "Right." This is directed to Siobhan about the bottles. He'd forgotten that bit. Maybe he does need a refresher from Da.
Sirius relaxes, but only just as Siobhan resumes her seat. "I suppose being in the school puts everyone off their guard," he says, still not pleased that such a thing happened, but he's willing to let it go. See, he's getting a clue and relearning how to do small talk. "Which Harpies you on about? I seem to encounter more than my fair share. You'd think a pardoned chap could chat up the birds, but no." There. Attempt to embrace subject change. "Thank you. I get to practice cooking a fair bit, with everyone coming and going and not wanting to serve up muck to guests."
"Hey, so long as you don't try Brian's patented 'Finger Comb of Lust' at them, you've at least got a fair shot." Siobhan makes a pitiful attempt at humor. To Sirius, she explains further. "My brother, the one who plays for the Bats?" Of Ballycastle Quidditch fame. "He does this thing with his fingers and his hair and this look. It makes him look like he's got fleas." Reaching down to scoop a spoonful of stew into her mouth, she sits quietly. The two older friends will get things back to normal much quicker without her interrupting and making things awkward.
Jack takes another bite of stew, chuckling lightly at Sirius' plight. "Yeah, I'm a bit off my game in that area myself lately." He's been a bit preoccupied with other things. Like y'know. Real life. When Siobhan mentions Brian's patented move, he laughs, barely managing to keep his lips closed in time to prevent spewing stew everywhere. He swallows his stew and laughs outright, a loud, bright laugh. It's a sound no one has heard for quite a while. "Brian's 'Finger Comb of Lust'. I'd forgotten all about that!" Sirius' comments get a bright grin. "Yeah, better not to serve muck." He takes another bite.
Sirius snorts into his stew at Siobhan. "I'll pass. I'm sure I'll remember how to be my charming self with the witches soon enough. Besides, it's not like I need assistance in looking as if I've got fleas." Maybe if Sirius had actually paid more attention to the girls back in the day, there'd be more to remember. But no, he was too busy being cool with friends who were brothers to him. "I'll have to see some games now that I can. Amazing what got taken for granted." The last bit, he didn't mean to utter aloud. All the fun things he was going to do after Hogwarts, thrown out the window for war.
"One of the Ravenclaws asked for my help brewing a potion for fleas back in my fourth year," Siobhan remarks, breaking off a bit of her bread and dipping it in the stew. "He'd worked out all the theory bits but he was rubbish at actually brewing." An area Siobhan herself excells at - and enjoys. "I helped him brew it, alright, but maybe the fact that it smelled so bad should have been a good warning." But hey, most potions have a nasty smell/taste to them, so it might be able to be forgiven. "Apparently it turned his dog's tail pink." She snickers just a little into her stew. "Had a great pink feather duster sticking out his arse the whole summer." She's got a picture, somewhere. Another few bites of stew and bread and Sio wrinkles her nose, looking up to Jack thoughtfully. "When's the last time any of us used the family tickets Brain keeps sending?"
"I have about … ten, I think. I haven't seen the Bats play in ages." Is his sister leading up to something? Jack continues to eat, dipping his bread into the stew to soak up the broth. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin', Rosie?" He quirks a brow toward her. He is interested in this story about pink feather-duster-tails and flea potion. "What kind of dog was it?" He gives a pointed look toward the canine animagus. Possibly picturing his friend with a pink tail.
"Oh no, stop right there. I do not fancy having a pink tail. How else can I look properly menacing?" Sirius aims his spoon at the siblings in turn. "Family tickets? And you lot never go? I thought I needed to get out among other people and fresh air." He shakes his head as he finishes off his stew, already looking forward to digging into the ice cream he procured.
"Oh, we went a lot … at first." But Brian's probably the best player on the Ballycastle Bats and while having an ace Chaser is good, it doesn't mean much if you can't get the score up before the other guy catches the Snitch. Siobhan shifts in her seat a little, looking to Jack for a bit of help. In doing so, she catches her brother's drift and uses the last of her bread to soak up the remnants of her own stew. "Oh, I dunno. I bet Tonks'd be thrilled. She could take you for walks and people would just assume a case of pet resembling owner." Pink hair, pink tail! See what she did there? She reaches for her goblet of meade, pausing to sniff it discreetly before taking a judicious sip. "Mmm, Merlin I love that stuff." So much so that she takes another drink. "If you want to go to a match, Sirius, we'll find one that's not on a Hogsmeade weekend - " since she has to stay and work those weekends " - and go. Get Tonks to go, too. Make a day of it." It's not like they don't have the tickets for it. "Oh, Jack." She is suddenly reminded. "Did I tell you yet? They got Jas Lancaster to babysit Dumbledore."
"Jas Lancaster? I haven't seen Jas in a long time. Good man." And as far as Jack knows, that's the honest truth. He grins. "Oh, that'd be brilliant. We ought to surprise Brian. I bet he'd be completely amazed to see us." He snickers. "We're such bad siblings sometimes." He soaks up more of his broth and munches on the bread. "Brian's wasted on the Bats. I've told him so, but he's got the loyalty to the franchise. Brings in the Galleons for the owners, because he'll do a bit of showing off. It's what keeps the diehard fans comin'." He snorts, and then takes a pull of his own meade. "That'd be a sight, though, wouldn't it? Might scare a fair few witches and children, especially if you put a sign up. 'Could happen to you if you don't pay attention in transfiguration.' Or something like." He grins widely. "Be a right pain in the arse, though." He's also got a punnish joke for him.
Sirius finishes off his own bowl of stew, and leans back in his seat, drinking deeply of the mead. "No. Although quidditch matches sound like a grand bit of fun. Not sure if now's the time for it though." There'll be time for playing when Voldemort's gone, right? "Maybe if we take it in turns," he muses. Wasn't he just pondering living a little with his second chance? Now he's feeling guilty for wanting to get out and enjoy life. Torn from kicking himself mentally, he looks between Sio and Jack, "Good luck to the lad, no one babysits Albus Dumbledore." Without a word, he reaches over and picks up a piece of bread and hurls it at Jack for the pun.
"I'm glad it was him that got picked and not somebody worse." Siobhan's smile warms a little for the man who never, ever forgot to bring her presents on his visits. "Was nice to have somebody who knew how to dance, too." And though the color rises to her cheeks, she gives them both a look she's pretty sure at least Jack'll understand. Sometimes it sucks being raised an aristocrat and then sent off to a school where … most others aren't. "If we stop living because we're too afraid of what the other side will do, they've already won." It's very similar to a lecture she had to give her second-years last week. "It's a Bats game, Sirius. It'll be fun." Even she isn't stupid enough to ask what could happen, though. She snorts. "Jas is older than you, Siri." She pauses, suddenly thoughtful. "Closer to Ali's age, I think. Not as old as Da, though." The act of scouring her memory for the answer causes Sio to slip up and say That Name, but even her own mention of it darkens her mood some. "Anyway, there's a lot of talk around the school that maybe he needs some babysitting. I mean, he is getting old." Even for a wizard.
"Now's the only time, Sirius. If we wait until it's all wrapped up properly, we'll be old and stodgy, and stupid." Jack grins, deftly catching the bread. "Thanks, mate. Needed another one." Jack rememers Jas' visits pretty well. "Lancasters are a pretty good old family, if I recall. Yeah, he was a Hufflepuff a couple years older than Liam." Kinda what she said, wasn't it? "I don't know if 'babysitting' is a good word for it. He does need a bit of watching now and again." There's a fire in Jack's eyes that wasn't there before when he mentions the Headmaster. What's up with that? "S'always good to find people who know the — things." The niceties, the steps, the give and take. "Sometimes, though, it's nice to forget all of it." He snorts, and finishes off his stew. "How's Remus?" He's not heard from the man in a while.
Sirius frowns some at Sio, she has a point, but he clearly doesn't want to admit that Dumbledore won't be around forever. "Talk, schmalk. I think the Ministry just wants eyes on Dumbledore," he shifts a little before getting up to fetch bowls and the ice cream that Fortescue touted as cookies with a little vanilla ice cream involved. "Perhaps, Merlin knows I haven't done much in the way of living the past few years. Still.. " All it takes is one little accident. He shakes out of his reverie when Jack asks about Remus, "Deep undercover. Can't hear from him too often. Despite being from a pureblooded family with the right ties, I'm not the sort he can communicate with and not raise suspicions. He's doing alright, last we heard." There's a bit of unnecessary force of the ice cream scoop as Sirius talks while serving up the frosty treats. He's worried about his best friend, wishing he didn't have to do this. Hell, he wishes everyone didn't have to do what is asked of them. "Maybe you're right, Jack. Now's the time. Anyway, enough of the main course, I want some bloody ice cream." Dammit, a man spends time behind bars, he wants to skip to dessert every now and then!
"I really can't blame them." Siobhan is firm on this point, raising her spoon to jab it in the air towards Sirius. "After Harry and Torrington were kidnapped from the school, Torrington dead, the fight at Hogsmeade and me getting cursed into a bloody painting by Death Eaters - again inside the school … I mean come on. We're all human, sure, but that's a lot of error to just sweep under the rug of 'But he's Dumbledore'." Sirius is right on one point, mistakes get people killed in wars like this. Talk of Lupin, however, has her jaw clicking audibly shut and she grinds her teeth together in an attempt to prevent herself from saying something rude. She does have manners, after all. "Ice cream sounds brilliant, mate. What flavor you got?" And Sio's bouncing up to help dish or serve - whichever, really! - eager to change the subject yet again.
"No man is beyond accountability." That probably came from Sir Michael at some point in Jack's life. "The Headmaster is a pretty smart guy," he says, with a slight frown, "but deity he is not." This may be a point of contention between the two friends. Jack's had his parallax shifted a bit. Sirius' mention of Lupin is met with a scowl. "Damn. That's not fun." He wonders what their friend is doing. "I hope he's alright." He has a thought about the Quidditch game, which he voices while holding his spoon up. "I think we'll be alright at a Bat's game. We're all pretty brill at keeping ourselves safe. It'll be like that night at the 'Sticks, except with a Rosie." He gives his sister — or the direction his sister went if she's disappeared into the kitchen — a wink, and grins. "She's fierce." The mention of ice cream, both as a tasty treat and a subject change is accepted. "Ohhh. I love ice cream."
Sirius hands over a heaping bowl full to Siobhan, "Fortescue called it Milk and Biscuits. I think it's more biscuit, but I don't care. It has plenty of chocolate, biscuits and ice cream." Sure enough, with the chocolate chip cookie dough, oxford cookies, chocolate swirl, you really can't tell it's supposed to be vanilla ice cream in there. Instant diabetic shock coming right up. "As much as I hate to agree that Hogwarts isn't safe.." Everyone knows it's not the haven it once was or should be. "We have Aurors up at the school, members of the Order rotating out in the area.." He shuts himself up at this part, because he's just getting frustrated again. A bowl of ice cream is set down in front of Jack before Sirius seats himself and digs into his own. "Alright. It's settled, a Bats game it is."
And Siobhan looks positively thrilled at the dish of delight in front of her. A single spoonful confirms that it is, indeed, just as good as it looks. A chime of the clock, however, startles her and she's juggling her bowl to her left hand to tap out her wand and cast a quick Tempus. "Shit, it's already - and I've got to get to Devonshire and - " She seems to remember where she is and shuts up pretty damn quick. Walking over to the table, she sets her bowl on top and swings into her coat and scarf before grabbing the bowl and swinging around the table to give Jack a kiss on the cheek and Sirius a one-armed hug. "Sorry, guys. I didn't realize it was so late already. Mind if I take this to go, Siri? I'll have Janet bring it by when I send her out this week." To help clean. This way he can't argue, right? "Jack, if you head home tonight, make sure Thanatos hasn't eaten any of Mum's geese, yeah?" He might not understand now, but going home to a giant Thestral on the front lawn should be enough of an explanation.
"Ohhh, mate, that looks brilliant!" Jack looks up at his sister's abrupt stand. He considers attempting to follow her, but it seems she's on an errand, and he has work tonight. "Be careful, Rosie." That's his farewell. He does stand to give her a kiss on the cheek if she'll allow it. Then, he reseats himself in front of the bowl of ice cream. "Thana—Thanatos?" He's kind of confused, but accepts that sometimes his sister gives him strange messages. "Will do. Mum'd throw a fit if somethin' ate her geese." He shudders. He doesn't want to be anywhere near that. "It's no guarantee that nothing will happen, though, Sirius." He pointedly does not say, 'Case in point…'
"No worries, I'm in no hurry to get the bowl back." Sirius says, waving his spoon.. and talking around a mouthful of ice cream. A little surprised and taken aback by the hug, he returns it awkwardly and one armed as well. "No worries, we've all got a lot on our plates," he says, even as he's disappointed the party is breaking apart. What little there was of it. "I know, but you lot have a point about living and I've wasted enough time. It's just.. difficult." Sometimes it's easier to be a shut-in and wallow. "So. Next time I'm on duty in Hogsmeade, I think I'll try to chat up a certain witch again.. got any pointers?" There. Something far more pleasant to talk about.
Siobhan accepts both her brother's kiss and her friend's one-armed return of the hug, awkwardly wrestling one-armed with her scarf and the buttons on her coat. "Thanks for dinner, Siri." And she's earnest about that, it was nice - once the shit got cleared away and set as a No Touching Zone. "I'm always careful, Jack." And she is, these days. Mostly. "I'll send you Ed if anything comes up." And with a slightly too-cheerful wave to both guys, she's tromping back up the stairs and calling another goodbye to Auntie Wally on her way out the door.
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