It had been a rough night for Sirius.
He had spent the day before mindlessly flipping through the Daily Prophet as if he could find news written in between the lies, and the lack of movement made him restless. As a result of that, he'd spent half the night shifting in bed and the other half drifting in and out of an unsatisfying sleep.
When he finally got out of bed, Sirius wasn't rested. He'd slept until close to noon because he didn't have anything better to do, but he still had the pounding headache he had grown accustomed to lately. Still in his pajamas, because no one was around to care, he went to the sink and began filling the kettle with water. He put it on the stovetop, not bothering to magically boil it. It wasn't as though he was tight on time. There was a new Daily Prophet on the kitchen table, and Sirius smiled, figuring Remus had dropped it off late at night or early in the morning while he was still sleeping. He wished he'd woken him up, though. He picked it up and rolled his eyes at the cover story, another bit about the lies Dumbledore was spreading to the students of Hogwarts. He tossed it down and went to the fridge, but the milk he pulled out smelled off, and he flicked his wand lazily to Vanish it, wondering what he'd drink with his coffee and realizing dully that he didn't care.
He settled down at the kitchen table, vaguely aware of Kreacher's shuffling in one of the back rooms, and sunk his head into his hands, running his fingers through his hair. It felt oddly clean, Sirius noted. He wasn't used to it being clean - not until recently, anyway.
The water boiled, and Sirius poured it over some coffee grounds. He'd drink it black. It didn't matter.
He must have fallen asleep, because he woke up some time later with pajama marks etched into his face, the mug of black coffee cold next to him. He sat up and left the kitchen in search of a clock so he'd be able to tell how long he'd slept. Sirius' internal clock had long since been messed up. The only sunlight he ever got to see was the small amounts that filtered through the few dingy, dusty windows around Number 12, Grimmauld Place, and that didn't help him with discerning between night and day any more than sleepless nights and late mornings did.
He was halfway down the hall when he heard a thumping near the entrance to the house. He was surprised; he didn't usually have visitors during the day. The Order of the Phoenix met mostly at night, and anyway, they hadn't met in a week and half. Things were tricky these days. Warily, Sirius turned around and approached the front of the house, wand stretched out before him. "Hello?" he called, suddenly aware of how badly he wanted this to be something exciting, the Ministry or a Death Eater or anything to break him of the dull monotony of his current daily life.
There was some more movement from the entrance, and Sirius got closer to it, listening to the rush of adrenaline pounding in his ears, so much better than the pounding headache of this morning. "I'm armed," he called walking a little faster before he heard laughter.
He stopped, wand still out, and listened. Yes, that was definitely laughter. A woman's laughter, probably a young one's. He frowned, lowering his wand. "Nymphadora?"
"Tonks to you, Snuffles."
His younger cousin stepped around the hallway's bends, her face sarcastic and amused at the same time. She swept her hand upwards, moving her bright purple hair from her eyes. "Wotcher, Sirius. Are you threatening me?"
He lowered his wand and grinned. "Dora! What are you doing here?"
She shrugged. "Ended work a bit early, figure I'd come over and say hi, brought over some - blimey, Sirius, are you still in your pajamas? Do you know what time it is?
"Er. . . no," said Sirius. "I sort of. . . fell asleep for a bit. Actually, have you got the time?"
She laughed and fished a large chained watch from somewhere beneath her robes. "Half past two. Are you. . . are you all right, Sirius? You look tired. Have you been sleeping enough?"
He nodded. "About all I can do these days."
She lurched forward suddenly, nearly tripping over her own feet, and wrapped her arms around him. Sirius patted her back awkwardly, slightly uncomfortable, until she pulled away. "What was that for, Dora?"
She shrugged. "Just because."
She took his hand and pulled him to the kitchen, saying something about replenishing his food supply before he went hungry and ate Kreacher, but he wasn't really listening. He was just glad to have some company.
