Disclaimer: I solemnly swear I do not own Harry Potter or related characters/settings.
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A Mind at Peace with All Below
Dinner at Grimmauld Place was a noisy affair. The small kitchen was filled to the brim with idle chatter and laughter, its occupants happily tucking in to the magnificent celebratory feast prepared by Molly Weasley. She had, once again, outdone herself. Platters of roast potatoes, grilled vegetables, homemade bread, and a steaming pork roast all gave off tantalizing aromas that tickled everyone's taste buds. Frequent toasts to Ginny, the most recent graduate of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, served to compliment the meal (and people's spirits).
Sirius, observing the scene, felt a familiar warm feeling begin to build in his chest. Seeing everyone together, his closest friends seated around the sagging, food-laden table, gave him a sense of such satisfaction he had trouble distinguishing the event from a dream. Pinching himself, however, only served to bring a grimace of pain to his lips and bruises to his arm, so he contented himself with looking around at the table's occupants with a fond eye.
To his left sat Minerva McGonagall, ever prim and proper, with her hair pulled back into a tight bun and her aged face pinched in concentration. The focus of her attention was anyone's guess; cutting the roast and ignoring Albus's straying fingers were equally daunting tasks.
Next to her sat the culprit of her discomfort, eyes twinkling with merriment as he winked at Sirius. Beside him, Kingsley Shacklebolt, renowned auror and resident friendly giant, Remus Lupin, voice of reason, and Arthur Weasley who was jabbering excitedly over what Sirius presumed to be some novel muggle technology.
Molly's seat was empty, courtesy of her frantic bustling about the kitchen. Alastor Moody sat next to her chair, normal eye fixed on his dinner plate and magical eye fixed on the rather pretty, but clearly uncomfortable, Nymphadora Tonks. Beside her sat Bill Weasley, hair tied back in a long ponytail and fang-toothed earring glinting in the evening light.
Fred and George came next. Or was is George and Fred? Sirius was never quite sure. The twins' wide-eyed, innocent faces caused Sirius's lip to twitch as his gaze passed over them- he was positive he had just seen them slip some fizzy, smoking concoction into Charlie's drink. Next to Charlie sat Ginny who, pink-cheeked from all the congratulations she was receiving, was engaging Ron in a passionate debate about Quidditch.
And then there was Harry. Harry Potter, boy who lived. Harry Potter, boy who faced and survived more encounters with Voldemort than the average child had, on a dare, whispered the Dark Lord's name. His Harry: brave, loyal, talented… and currently infatuated with the youngest Weasley. Sirius smiled as he watched his godson shoot yet another furtive glance at Ginny.
Continuing their sweep across the room, Sirius's eyes landed on the two empty chairs sitting between Harry and himself. One, Hermione's chair, had been empty all year. The other, though presently unoccupied, was surrounded by an oppressive air, a constant reminder of its surly occupant. Sirius looked away quickly. The bitter taste left by thoughts of Severus Snape only served to remind him of the loneliness and melancholy he would feel once his friends departed.
It always happened that way. His spirits would be brightened by the Order's company, then irrevocably shattered when they left, leaving Sirius to spiral ever deeper into depression.
"Ain't no sunshine when they're gone, indeed," he thought as a hearty clap on the back prompted him to mold his lips into a smile befitting the jovial atmosphere.
The companionable chatter was doomed to meet an untimely end, however, as the collective gasp and ensuing silence announced the arrival of one Hermione Granger.
One look at the young woman had Sirius reeling. Her unruly hair was wrestled back into its customary bun, looking for all like she had touched a static ball, her Weasley-knit sweater, though notably less snug, was still vibrant as ever, and Hello Kitty still peeped out from under the cuffs of her jeans to say, "Hi."
The tension in the room was palpable, everyone waiting with bated breath for an entrance that was sure to be, at the very least, worthy of a mid-afternoon soap opera. Remus cleared his throat nervously, a fidgeting Ginny elicited a loud creak from her chair… even Dumbledore leaned forward to rest his chin on steepled fingers.
Hermione, however, took it all in stride. With seasoned aplomb, a mind at peace with all below, she clapped her hands together and announced, "Molly, this smells delicious. I'm starving!"
Taking her seat with a wry grin, Hermione speared herself a piece of meat, the tension in the room dribbling away as effectively as the juices from Mrs. Weasley's famous pork roast.
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Chapter title, "A Mind at Peace with All Below", is from a line in Lord Byron's poem, She Walks in Beauty Like the Night.
Sirius' thought, "Ain't no sunshine when they're gone, indeed," is an adaptation from the song "Ain't No Sunshine" by Bill Withers.