Gooseberries
Chapter One: Love
They don't want me here, thought Sirius as he looked at Tonks and Remus across the table. They'd rather be sticking their tongues down each other's throats. I've seen how they look at each other, how they don't look at each other; it's tragic. They're too stubborn for their own good. The two of them should be together before it's too late. Better to have loved and lost, yadayadaya. Not that Remus wouldn't get a severe beating for seeing my kid cousin, but still. It's what they both want, it's obvious to anyone who saw them in the same room, the way they behave. How they stare at each other when they think no-ones looking, how Tonks sneaks bars of chocolate into Remus' room when he's run out and money's tight, how he always makes a point of telling Tonks how nice she looks when she's herself.
Sirius noted that Tonks had shifted in her seat at the precise same moment as his oldest friend. Sirius feigned a sneeze and knocked his mug off the table. He picked Tonks' wand up off the table and leaned his head underneath. He fixed the mug with a swift flick of rosewood and stole a glance at his companions' feet. Their knees were touching. Sirius chuckled gently to himself as he sat up again, though inwardly he felt a pang of loneliness. Despite their awkwardness, Tonks and Remus had each other. They were hopeless, but they had each other all the same. Sirius even saw the youngsters begin to pair off among themselves. He had no-one. At this precise moment in time, given the state of the world, Sirius felt sure that he would die very soon, alone. It wasn't an entirely bad thought, bearing in mind his life up to that point, but Sirius still believed it was better to have loved and lost, yadayadaya.
Not that Grimmauld Place was the best place in the world to pick up women. The only females to have crossed his path since his escape from Azkaban were either twice his age, half his age (or more), or well and truly spoken for. He was not closed to buttering his bread on both sides at times, but the thought of Mad-Eye and Dung had pushed all thought of that far from his mind. And he was not ready to consummate his relationship with Buckbeak just yet.
There were two chocolate biscuits left on the plate and Remus was eying them hungrily. Much like he did to Tonks occasionally, thought Sirius, struggling to suppress a giggle. Remus offered the plate to Sirius, who took one, not because he wanted it, but to watch Tonks' reaction to the last biscuit. Remus looked disappointed as Sirius munched on the bourbon. He offered the plate to Tonks. She declined and Remus began nibbling it far politer than he would have done on his own.
Love is undervalued, Sirius thought to himself.
"More tea?" he asked.