{ days get heavy } | frank&sirius
June 1979 New Order HQ @frankxlongbottom
The recent scattering of the Order had done nothing for Sirius’ social life, nor that of those around him. Even in the newfound castle, with Order members meandering about, fear, instead, had embraced them all, keeping them chained separately to dwell on the what if’s and what’s next that circled round their minds at a dizzying pace. Fear held them, kept them, inescapable in even the most comforting of places. As such, there were fewer gatherings, fewer friends out for a pint or a night free from the war, fewer laughs and smiles amongst those brave enough to venture out. No, fear had stolen that, too, and left a blanket of melancholy in its place.
Sirius had not been immune, and he, too, had found himself absorbed in his melancholy, in his fears and uncertainties, with very few options as a means to escape, to claw his way up from the fissure left by recent events. He knew he was not alone in feeling this, and that, it turned out, was his refuge, a line upon which to cling and pull himself out. As such, it was with a bottle of Muggle liquor in hand that he set out to find Frank within the cold stone walls, to check on him and keep him company - distract himself - at least for a while.
Knuckles rapped on the door frame to Frank’s quarters, his weight shifting from one foot to the other. “Hope you’re not busy,” he greeted, grinning in at the man, giving the bottle a little wave. “Brought you a present, if you’re interested.”
