@blxckhound 27th July, 1979. Ministry, early afternoon.
They don’t find him by design. An elevator scene. The boy (man, taller now, shoulders too broad-) is unfortunately impossible to miss. Dark eyes meeting theirs and the sight--
Something after all. Thrumming in their chest. Like someone had twisted something and left it there, once. Like it was still there now, knotted beneath their rib cage. Heavy. Ignored in the moment of encounter, forgotten in the next.
Proof that childhood left its sentimentalities long after that age had passed.
They smile. A cold expression. Made derisive without ever looking scornful. “Sirius. I hope you’re well. I heard...” A pause. Speech tapering. A step closer, a hand reaching out. Brushing dust from Sirius’ shoulder, fingertips smoothing the lines of his robe. Leaving them stood too close. There’s amusement cut sharp in their gaze, in the slant of their mouth, unmistakable now. “I heard you’ve been called in for further questioning.”
“I trust you aren’t overly concerned. If it goes well, it will hardly affect your career.”