Sirius was numb, and it wasn't from the mid-November weather.

No, this lack of feeling grew and spread from the inside out. Had he meant nothing to her? Sure, he was older than her. By a lot. But she hadn't seemed to mind...

Sirius had gotten done with his work at the Ministry early that day and decided to surprise Hermione with dinner from the Three Broomsticks. He'd Apparated to the village and walked up the road, whistling happily as he imagined getting to spend the evening with his witch. He was going to sneak into the castle - well, as much as one could under Minnie's watchful gaze - and set up an indoor picnic of sorts in one of the unused classrooms, complete with blanket and soft candlelight. And then he was hoping to see if she was game to act out one of his professor fantasies…That was the plan, anyway.

But none of that would be happening now. Oh no!

When he had entered the Three Broomsticks, everything had seemed in order. Rosmerta gave him a hearty wave and a jaunty smile as he made his way over to the bar. Sirius placed his takeaway order with little fanfare, grabbed a quick tankard for his wait, and settled his bill. He took a seat on a barstool as he waited for his order to be prepared, sipping slowly on his mead and allowing the warmth to seep into his bones. It was as he languidly cast his eyes around the establishment that he heard her. Hermione was somewhere in the pub, laughing. He knew that laugh.

His order came up and he grabbed it quickly, nodding a goodbye to Rosie as he made his way through the sea of tables and patrons toward where he had heard her. Soon enough, he spotted her and was making his way over when he stopped cold, his eyes widening as he took in the spectacle before him. Charlie Weasley was kissing his witch! His witch was kissing Charlie Weasley!

His brain simply couldn't process what was before him. None of his appendages seemed to be working, and his mouth certainly wasn't. After a moment he seemed to recalibrate, but instead of making his way over to their cozy little table to demand to know what the bloody, buggering fuck was going on, he turned on his heel and made his way out into the gently wafting snow, his - their - takeaway still clutched in his fist.

OxOxOxOxO

Harry Potter could not, for the life of him, understand why his home smelled like a distillery. One thing was for sure, Sirius was either extremely happy or extremely upset…

He lazily began stripping out of his Auror uniform, hanging his robe in the closet and working his tie loose as he toed his boots from his socked feet. His senses were all telling him to run, but not from danger - from emotional upheaval, whatever kind it may be. He was not good with emotions, he knew. He may not have been at Hermione's level, but he was certainly no Ron. He wasn't great at dissecting the how's and why's, the causations of emotions, but he could sense the strong ones. And bloody hell, this one was nigh on herculean.

Harry entered the parlour and found the source of the stink: Sirius was lying face first on the settee with his feet dangling onto the Persian rug, liquor spilled and splashed everywhere. There were open containers of takeaway littering the coffee table, and one knocked over onto the floor, its contents joining the puddle of firewhiskey beside an overturned bottle.

"Oh, Merlin," Harry sighed, scratching the back of his head as he took in the utter shambles that lay before him.

First thing's first, he thought. "Alright, Sirius, up you get!" He strode purposefully over to his godfather and began heaving him into an upright sitting position. It took Harry a few goes to get the older man to remain semi-vertical, but eventually, he was able to prop him up with a few throw pillows.

Harry cast his eyes around the room, trying to triage as he did. The food and alcohol spilled on the floor were a minor inconvenience, thanks to magic. There was a broken bottle he had missed on his first glance over, and a shattered tumbler, but those were easily fixed. It seemed the only real problem was the unconscious, snoring animagus.

Harry summoned a vial of Sober-Up and conjured a bin, just in case. Just as he was about to begin his least favorite task, he jolted, realizing he hadn't yet absconded Sirius' wand. There was a mistake in the making. With a flick of the wrist he summoned the piece of wood to his hand, and with another, he loosed a small Aguamenti right into Sirius' face.

Sirius came to sputtering and cursing, grabbing blindly for his wand holster and threatening to curse whichever bastard woke him. Harry stood calmly just out of reach, this having not been the first time he'd had to deal with one of his godfather's alcohol-induced rants. Sirius was soon simmering, too exhausted and drunk to get up and fight like he had been threatening, and Harry decided there was no time like the present to force-feed his father figure a potion.

Harry had learned from past experience that Sirius fought sobering up. Passionately. It was best to bind him - both to his human form and from head to toe - and just get on with it. All while watching out for his teeth. He was a biter.

Forcing his head up, Harry pried Sirius' mouth open, uncorked the vial with his own teeth, and poured the contents down. He quickly clamped a hand over the animagus' nose and mouth and began using the other to rub his throat, stimulating his swallowing reflex. That, he had learned from his job as an Auror. No one liked getting potions spewed back up on them while they were trying to help a Healer save a life.

Harry quickly jumped back from the settee and watched Sirius slowly come back down as the potion took effect.

"Ugh, my throat is bleeding dry but my face feels like it was dipped in the Black Lake," Sirius muttered while shaking his head like the dog that he was. Harry cast a quick shield charm to deflect the droplets that Sirius was purposefully trying to sprinkle him with.

"Cut it out, Sirius," Harry commanded in an attempt to keep things on track. "Why did I come home and find the place looking like you've had all of Irish National in here? What happened?"

Sirius' face instantly darkened, his playful mood slipping away like smoke on a breeze. "Nothing I shouldn't have seen coming," he muttered, rising and stalking across the room towards the liquor cabinet, clearly intent on picking up where he'd left off before he passed out.

Harry made a tsking noise and flicked his wand at the cabinet, locking it up tight. "Now, Sirius, you know that's not how we deal with our problems. You've heard Hermione tell me enough times that I'm sure it's drilled through your cranium as well." He joked, but the words rang hollow to his own ears. Something was seriously wrong.

Sirius' shoulders slumped and the corner of his mouth lifted in a snarl. Well, that wasn't normal… What the hell was going on?

"Sirius, what happened? Why are you acting weird?" Harry probed. He was worried; this was not normal behavior for a man who was - up until that afternoon when Harry had last seen him - nearly giddy. He'd been acting so much lighter and more confident since he had begun his… whatever it was with Hermione. And there was no way that Hermione was the cause. Hermione would never do something to purposefully elicit this sort of reaction in anyone, let alone someone she obviously cared about. Right?

"It's over." Sirius muttered coldly, his eyes darkening as he spoke, "I'm just thankful for the time I had. Hell, I should be grateful, pup. I know I should; she was slumming with me."

Harry blanched. What had happened?

"Sirius, why don't we go down to the kitchen and I'll make a brew while you tell me what's going on. You're not making sense."

Sirius frustratedly clenched his jaw before shaking his head slowly in resignation. "No, pup. I'm just going to go upstairs and sleep. I'm pretty worn out after hosting a whole Quidditch team, after all." And with that, he turned and jogged his way upstairs, not even stopping to retrieve his wand from his godson.

Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses in shock and his breath left him in a huff. "Well fuck me… I better talk to Hermione."

Author's Note:

Well, look at me being all responsible and posting a new chapter not *too* long after the one previous. I wanted to post for May the Fourth/Cinco de Mayo. That was totally my plan. Obviously.

Beta thanks to justcourbeau, Jade Presley, and MissandMarauder. You babes are BAMFs.

Edit (4/5/2017 7pm EST):

YOU GUYS! A Sirius Misunderstanding WON! It WON! I'm in shock... my jaw is still on the floor. Thank you all SO MUCH! I cannot even begin to tell you how floored I am that you loved my writing to the point that you voted for me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. - Christine