"Padfoot, for the love of God, will you please pay attention and stop worrying about the bloody tie?"
Sirius was pacing the room, James sitting on the couch and reading the Prophet aloud, really only to himself at this point. Sirius had spent the last twenty minutes fretting over whether his tie was straight or not.
"You sure it doesn't look stupid?" he said, tugging at the knot to loosen it yet again.
"Yes. It looks fine." James let slip a tiny, airy laugh, rewarded by an uneasy and very much annoyed glance from Sirius.
"What?"
"Ha - nothing. I didn't even know you owned a tie, let alone would ever wear one."
"Work. Ugh - I hate these things."
"Then don't wear it," James shrugged. "Not exactly the end of the world."
"No? But that'll feel like I'm giving up to it. Beaten by a tie - that sounds so sad."
"Not giving up, rebelling against societal norms. But you better rebel quickly or you'll be late."
"Okay, fine. Do something with this will you?" he said, pulling the knot over his head and tossing it at James.
"Like?"
"Burn it, maybe. We can't have it thinking it won now can we?"
Melissa was waiting for him at the Leaky Cauldron, sitting at the center table with a newspaper stretched across the top. Jenny was spending the evening with the woman down the hall, one Mrs. Calkins, a pleasant little old witch who'd arrived at the Cauldron just a few days before them.
She didn't look up when Sirius opened the door and barely seemed to notice when he stepped quietly up to the table. He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down awkwardly.
"Hey," he said with a smile. "Sorry I kept you waiting. I, uh, don't think I'm late, I hope I'm not late…"
Melissa smiled and looked up from the paper. "No, no, you're not late, don't worry. Ah - it's just the Prophet. I promised myself I wouldn't read it and look at me now, almost all the way through." She gave a little laugh and folded up the pages along their creases again, splitting the front page image of Bartemius Crouch's expressionless face straight down the middle. "Let's go."
They walked for a while, the streetlights glittering in the puddles along the road from the rain that morning, until they came up outside a small little corner café Melissa had suggested. There was no one else inside and they sat themselves at a table by a wide, thick-paned window.
"So," Sirius said, draping his coat on the back of his chair and clasping his hands on the table.
"So." Melissa did the same.
"How was work?"
She shrugged. "Delightfully uneventful. You?"
"Didn't today. The jailers were feeling merciful."
"Oh, is that so?"
"No, I don't work Saturdays." She was laughing - at him? - and he laughed too. No, not at him he decided. "So, what about that Daily Prophet?" he said. "I don't blame you for not wanting to read it, so what made you?"
Her laugh fell and her face made that funny little tilt like it did when she was trying not to be too serious and failing miserably. "I guess I don't really know," she began, letting her gaze trail along the window frame. "Someone was talking about it in the shop today and, I don't know. I just had to see for myself, you know?" She laughed once, a sarcastic lilt to her voice. "Not that I didn't know what to expect. God, is there anyone working here do you think?" She looked back around the dimly lit restaurant as if the poor service was suddenly the most important problem. Almost as soon as she'd spoken however a door at the back opened and out slipped a wiry little man with a very false smile plastered to his ashy face.
"Very sorry about this, you two," he said cheerily. "Very sorry indeed. What can I get you?"
"A coffee, for me, please," Melissa said pleasantly.
"Same," Sirius added, somewhat annoyed with the waiter's demeanor.
"Certainly, certainly." The man hopped off and disappeared back behind the door, leaving them once again in silence.
"What about you?" She said suddenly, watching him closely.
"Huh? Oh, the Prophet? I guess everyone already knows what is says in a way, don't they? But they still read it."
"Funny, isn't it?"
Sirius nodded and tapped his foot absentmindedly against his chair leg. "So," he said slowly, trying to put together a sentence. "I am quite obviously not used to doing this, so uh…"
Melissa giggled and shook her head. "Well usually people ask each other questions. Like, I don't know where you're from, and as far as I know, you don't know where I am, so we can start there."
"Right. Uh, well - here, for me. Guess you could say I never really left. And you?"
"Bristol originally. We moved here when I was little and Dad got a job at the Ministry. Everyone thought it was such a big deal, but my grandparents were the most excited out of anyone. For a long time he had held little odd jobs, never anything solid and definitely nothing his parents considered worthwhile. They had a long pureblooded history and, though they never said of course, I don't think they were exactly pleased when their son married a muggle."
"Your coffee." The annoying little wire man popped back up beside the table, placing two white ceramic cups before them and skating away.
"Well thank you, my good sir," Sirius said sarcastically once he had gone. Melissa laughed and stirred her drink absentmindedly, watching as the steam left the cup and drifted through the chilly air.
"So," Sirius continued. "Grandma and Granddad don't care for muggles?"
She looked back up, meeting his gaze. "Oh, no, nothing like that. They're actually very wonderful people. Just a little old fashioned is all. Once they got to know her, they liked Mum well enough. They love him more than anything. I guess they finally figured if she was good enough for him, they'd have to accept her. And what of yours, oh great and mysterious Sirius?"
He smiled and watched his own hands draw a semicircle on the dark stained wood. "What of them?"
"Well, do they care for muggles as you put it?" She stifled a giggle.
She spoke like she'd never heard of the noble and most ancient house of Black. Anyone that had wouldn't be asking that question. "Ah, not exactly. Though, not many people in my family do." She nodded slowly and looked away. "But I do!" he added quickly. "I'm not like the rest of them."
"Hm - I see. Little rebellion?"
"Little might be putting it lightly. When you're the only Gryffindor in a family of Slytherins, well. Needless to say, it creates a little tension."
"So you went to Hogwarts, then?"
Sirius nodded. "Didn't you?"
"Mum wasn't so keen on my sister and me being sent away like that. She preferred that we stayed home and have my dad teach us. Gram and Granddad helped too of course. I've always wondered what it might have been like to go to actual school though. We had a neighbor growing up who was my age; we'd see her leaving for Kings Cross every September loaded down with her trunks and a part of me was always tempted to follow her without telling my parents." She sighed. "I obviously never went through with it. To be honest, I think it would've killed my mother had I left, especially after Maggie got married."
"Maggie? Your sister?"
Melissa sipped at her coffee. "Mm-hm. Mags moved out when I was fifteen and then Jenny came along a year later. Mum had always been, I don't know, not exactly clingy - protective I guess is the right word. After her eldest left, she got kind of nervous about me growing up too. Up until recently, she hasn't wanted to let me out of her sight, like I might realize I'm not a little girl anymore."
"Up until recently? Why the sudden change?" She sighed and swirled her glass wistfully. Sirius got the impression he may have done something wrong but had no idea what.
"You know how I said I didn't know why I read the Prophet if I already knew what it would say?" Sirius nodded slowly, not sure he liked where this was headed. "Part of the reason I do it is to make sure it doesn't say things too. A few months ago, my father came home and said we were leaving. He wouldn't say why, only that something had happened at work. We packed up and headed to my aunts'. We were there for about a week before Dad went out one day and just didn't come back. We sent out posters, put out an ad in three different papers, muggle and wizarding, but all we found out was that no one else had heard from him either."
She paused, taking a deep breath and looking everywhere but at Sirius. "So what are you doing here? Looking for him yourself?"
She shrugged, "Yes and no," closed her eyes and finally looked up at him. "A few weeks ago, we got an owl from the Ministry. It, er - it was about my sister and her husband. Someone broke into their house. They said he was one of the Death Eaters you hear about. He killed them. They were supposed to be on holiday but they cancelled last minute. Said it was too dangerous to leave right now. Jenny was at my grandparents' place, thank God." Her voice petered out toward the end until it was no more than a whisper. She was looking at her cup again, now empty with a little ring of sugar around the bottom.
"I'm sorry," was all Sirius could say. What else was there?
He half expected her to yell at him that he couldn't possibly understand, couldn't possibly know what it felt like to lose someone like that, but she smiled softly. "It isn't your fault. You don't have to apologize for what he did. I've never understood why people do that, apologize for things that have nothing to do with them."
"It is a funny thing, I guess, huh?" Sirius hesitated, thinking he should say something more but not sure what to say. "Maybe it's got something to do with knowing how it feels, or wanting the person to think you do. Isn't that something they say helps people cope with stuff like that? Being around people that get it."
Melissa looked at him thoughtfully. "I take it you're someone who gets it."
He smiled and pushed back his chair a little ways from the table. The empty café seemed even quieter than before. Sirius wondered if their little waiter had left. "What do you say, should we get going? I think our friend has left the premises."
She laughed, a refreshing, lighthearted laugh. "I think you may be right."
The little bell on the door rang softly as they stepped outside, back out into the cold night air, and walked hand in hand in silence back down the fog filled London street.