Another rainy day, nothing unusual for London in late April. Even being spring it was a chilly night. Sirius could have worn something warmer, but he preferred the comfort of his leather jacket. Besides, he didn't plan on standing outside for long. Once he finished his cigarette, he would slink into the next bar he could find. He would drink until his mind stopped showing him his every failure and give him some peace.. Especially today– the drinks will be a welcome relief.
Cigarette finally finished, he stubbed out the end on the side of the building he was leaning against. Pushing off he started to walk down the street, brushing past groups of muggles as they hurried down the sidewalks.
Thankfully finding a proper bar didn’t take too long. It was still early enough that it wasn’t too crowded and the music was loud enough that it started to make thinking thinking difficult as soon as he stepped through the door. The place was a little run down, smokey and dark. A perfect place to sit at the bar and drink, and wouldn’t you know there was even a stool still free.
He plunked down and adjusted himself on the uncomfortable stool so his boots were propped on the foot rail. This way he could lean forward and rest his elbows on the slightly sticky bar.
The bartender was at the other end of the counter helping another patron. Sirius watched as he moved efficiently around the space, making a drink for the man.
The bartender was tall, at least as tall as Moony. His hair was straight though, and blonde. Objectively he was good-looking, and if Sirius didn’t already have the love of his life waiting for him at home he might have been interested.
Finally, the bartender finished with the man down the bar and turned in his direction. His eyes met with Sirius’ and he stilled, completely stopped moving. His eyes grew wider as he looked at Sirius who smiled back, maintaining eye contact. The bartender's eyes were quite mysterious, a dark brown, nearly black.
He gave a little wave to indicate he was ready to order. It took the man a moment to pull himself together and start striding down the bar toward him. Sirius could ignore his momentary lack of etiquette, it’s not an uncommon reaction from people. After all he is quite handsome and sometimes people stare before they realize what they are doing.
Awkward moment passed, the bartender seemed completely at ease again, “What can I get for you?”
“Whiskey, straight, three fingers. Please.”
The man nodded and turned to grab a glass. Setting it down and pouring a generous amount of golden liquid into the cup before sliding it across to Sirius, who nodded his thanks.
He started to drink, leaning back on the stool so he could better see the other patrons. Watching muggles was always interesting and there was nothing better to do until the alcohol kicked in. The others at the bar seemed to know each other, all chatting among themselves. On the other side of the room there was a group laughing loudly and dancing together.
They all ignored him, which was good. He wanted to be alone. In fact, he had specifically asked his friends to leave him be tonight. James had seemed distracted and didn’t put up much of a fuss about his request. Moony on the other hand was not pleased. He had argued with him for hours this morning about how he shouldn’t be alone today.
On the contrary, he should absolutely be alone today. For the mistakes he made, it is the least he can do. Not that it makes any real difference now, he can’t change what happened. The damage had been done, but it at least feels like penance to be alone today. He hates it.
Wincing he pressed his fingers to his temples before taking another sip of his drink. He had been clenching his jaw again, which explains the headache. It was a bad habit that had only been getting worse since graduating and joining the order, but war breaks you in a million different ways. The lack of sleep the night before probably did not help either. Hopefully the whiskey will take care of the headache and leave him to his sulking minus the pain.
Leaning forward again he rests his elbows on the bar and places his face in his open palms with a dramatic sigh. His cold hands feel nice on his face, which has been getting steadily warmer as he continues to drink.
“Are you alright?” A voice comes from directly in front of him, startling him.
Looking up, the blonde bartender is standing directly in front of him drying a glass and looking at him with an odd expression.
“No, but I'm hoping that finding the bottom of this glass will help.” Sloshing his glass he emphasized his point before taking another sip.
“I know it’s my job to supply the alcohol, but I don’t think it is going to solve whatever problems you think you have.”
“No. It can’t. I’m not an idiot, I know it won't solve my problems. It’s not a problem that has a solution, which is why I’m drinking. I’m hoping it will turn off my brain, or maybe just suck the guilt from my mind for a few hours.”
The bartender hummed in response, grabbing another glass to dry. “What do you have to feel guilty about?”
He glanced up at the man, “I failed someone I should have protected. I let him down when I should have been the one person he could rely on.”
“Can’t you apologize? Seems like a better option than drinking about it.”
Sirius huffed a laugh at that, “If only it were that simple. I wish I could apologize, but I waited too long and now it’s too late.”
“Well, that seems awfully dramatic.”
Dramatic. Yeah, that's something he gets called a lot. Mostly he’s dramatic to make his friends laugh, but he also just likes to feel how he feels, loudly. Growing up, it was always 'Sirius, be silent' or 'Sirius behave, you are the heir, so act like it.' Now he is free of his mother and her expectations, and has nurtured a tendency to be dramatic.
This though? No, it's not dramatic. It's too little, too late. He made his mistake and now he has to continue to drown in his guilt.
He drains the last of the liquor in his glass and pushes it toward the bartender who looks from the glass to him before refilling the cup.
They are silent for a while before the bartender wanders off to the other side of the counter to help other customers and Sirius sits and drinks and tries to evade his own thoughts.
He had nearly finished his second drink by the time the bartender made his way back to his end of the bar. Sirius watched as the man pulled a flask from under the counter, and took a quick swig before replacing it.
At this point he was quite tipsy and feeling nosey, “Should you be drinking while you are working? Is that something they allow?”
The bartender looked up at him, “My boss doesn’t care what I do. Pretty face, so I bring in decent money and he leaves me alone. Besides, there's no alcohol in the flask. Just a convenient container.”
“Ah. Sorry, it wasn't any of my business.”
“No worries.” Sirius watched as the bartender answered quickly and paused before opening his mouth and shutting it again, seeming like he wanted to say something else but was struggling with how to say it. His dark eyes watching Sirius with that odd expression again.
Sirius smirked, “If you are trying to find a way to ask me out I’ll just stop you there and tell you that I am happily in a relationship with the love of my life, but I’m flattered.”
He watched as the man's face contorted in— disgust? Shit. Read that one wrong then. Just as quickly as the look appeared, it was gone and the bartender started to laugh, loud and full. “Merlin, you are so full of yourself. I have absolutely no interest in you whatsoever.”
Sirius could feel his face burning up, hopefully the alcohol would disguise his embarrassment. He looked down at his lap, “S-sorry, my bad. I thought– my bad.” He wanted to sink into the floor, but then the words struck him. “Wait– Merlin?” He asked, whipping his head up to look back at the man.
He was wiping away tears from laughing, “Yeah. Merlin.” He gave Sirius a knowing look. “And I am gay, just you are— not my type.” He said with a shudder.
“Oi, I’m everybody’s type!”
Blonde eyebrows shot up on the man's face, “Again, the arrogance is astounding.”
Sirius couldn’t help but laugh, it sounded like something Remus would say. “Ass. You shouldn’t be so mean to your patrons. Especially ones that are having a bad day.”
“Well, why don’t you tell me why you are having a bad day and I will decide if I should be mean or not.”
Sirius could feel his shoulders drop, the ache in his chest closing in again at the thoughts rushing in. “I came here to drink and avoid thinking about it. Not talk about it with a complete stranger— but what the hell. It’s my brother.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
His eyes shot open again at the sudden sound of glass shattering. The bartender was looking down at the broken glass scattered around his feet. “Merde.” [Shit.]
“Vous parlez français?” [You speak French?]
“Uh, yes. I try not to, but sometimes it slips out.” He shuffled around to grab a dustpan and broom, starting to sweep up the broken glass. “You are here because of your brother, are you meeting him here or something?”
“Merlin no. He would hate it here.”
“Oh? Why?”
“Our parents were abusive, screaming, yelling, loud noises. Regulus hated all that stuff, parties too.” He waved vaguely in the direction of the people dancing drunk in the corner. “Always made him uncomfortable.”
The bartender watched him for a moment before asking quietly, “Where is Regulus tonight?”
“He disappeared a year ago today, presumed dead.” Sirius drained his second glass.
Dark eyes watched him. The man didn’t say anything.
“Kinda wish he left a note, you know what I mean?”
“You would have wanted a note?”
He nodded slowly, “I didn’t deserve one, but it would have been nice to know what happened to him. We hadn’t really talked since my parents disowned me, so I only learned from the prophet that he had died. No body found, no one knows what happened.”
“How can you know he is dead if there was no body?”
Sirius tilted his head from side to side, “Can’t be sure, but no one has seen or heard from him for the last year. Our parents had a funeral for him. My guess is that they know what happened and are keeping it quiet.”
“I’m sorry. That sounds hard.”
“Yeah.” Sirius looked to the bartender again, about to ask for another drink when his eyes caught on the necklace he was wearing. It hadn’t been there a minute ago, probably slipped out when he bent down to clean up the broken glass. “What's that?”
The man looked down at his necklace, eyes widening slightly. He quickly tucked the necklace back into his shirt, but not before Sirius saw the antlers crowned with a star. James had one exactly like it. He had always thought it was something James had made himself, but maybe he had bought it somewhere?
He was about to ask the bartender where he got the necklace when the door behind the bar swung open and another bartender stepped through. “Ray, sorry I’m late. I’m all clocked in if you want to head out.”
The blonde bartender turned back to Sirius, “I’m off, have a good night.” Turning he walked through the door and was gone.
Sirius watched the door silently for a few minutes before sliding off the stool and heading home.
—
The following day he woke in the morning with a mild hangover and Remus’s arms wrapped around him. James had promised to come over for breakfast that morning so he needed to get up and start on the waffles.
It was a slow and easy morning. Moony had gotten up with him and James arrived while he was still making breakfast. They talked and laughed among themselves as the morning slipped away.
Eventually, James tugged his necklace out of his shirt and started to fiddle with it, a habit he has when he is worried about something. Sirius waited for him to sort out what he wanted to say.
“Sirius, are you feeling— better? I know you had a rough day yesterday, with everything. I know you wanted to be alone, but— I wish you had let me be with you. Are you alright?”
He tried to give James an encouraging smile. He wasn’t totally fine, but he was feeling slightly better. Talking about Reggie the night before had been oddly therapeutic. “Yeah Prongs, I’m feeling better. I had a few drinks and talked for a bit with the bartender and it helped.” James returned his smile. “Actually that reminds me, I have a question for you. Where did you get your necklace?”
James' brow furrowed, “I made it myself, I thought I had told you that. Why?”
“Oh. I just thought I saw someone wearing one like it so I was curious.”
—
Sirius went back to the bar a few times over the following weeks. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to see the bartender again so badly but every time he went in it was someone else behind the counter.
This was the case for nearly a month before he went in again early on a Friday night and the tall blonde man was once again behind the bar.
He quickly walked over and took a seat on the stool, waiting for the man to notice him. Silently hoping he would remember him.
It didn’t take long before the man turned and spotted him, a slight smile clung to the corner of his mouth. “You’re back. Another bad day?”
“Not this time. I’ve been back a few times and you haven’t been here.”
The surprise was clear on his face, “Oh. I was– sick. I was out for a while, back now though. What can I get you, same as last time?”
“Sure. I was actually hoping to ask you a question.”
The smirk was instant, “Looking for me and you have a question? Thought you were happy with the love of your life?”
Sirius barked a laugh, “Now who is full of themselves? No, I wanted to ask you where you got your necklace. I think my best friend would like it and I was thinking I might get him one.”
“Oh. Um, I think I got it in some shop in Hatton Garden. It was years ago though, probably won't have it anymore.”
“Ah, too bad.” Sirius accepted the glass, taking a deep drink before looking hard at the man again. “Do I know you? I just have this feeling like I know you from somewhere. Did you go to Hogwarts?”
He watched as the man visibly tensed, “No, Beauxbaton. I don’t think we’ve met before, other than here.”
“Hmm.”
The man wandered away again to other customers, occasionally coming back to check on him. Though he was far less chatty this time, seeming to ignore him as much as possible.
After about an hour of sipping his drink and watching the bartender, he saw it. The man was just putting away some glasses on a shelf, facing away from him when he started to blur. The tips of his hair started changing from the blonde locks to a dark black. The man quickly reached under the counter for his flask, the black hair fading back to blonde before his very eyes.
The bartender looked up at Sirius and made eye contact for the first time in an hour. He watched the man's eyes darken from silvery gray back to the near black they were. He knew those eyes.
Before he could say anything the man spun around and walked out back. Sirius jumped up and launched himself over the counter, hurdling through the door to the back room. He ignored the shouts of the other patrons. His heart was racing, pounding so hard it felt like it would break through his chest.
He looked around for the man, frantic not to let him slip away. He wasn’t there.
Down a hallway he heard a heavy door slam shut, he rushed toward the sound. The only light in the hallway was the red exit sign above a door at the end. His feet couldn’t carry him fast enough, pushing the door open he practically fell into the alleyway behind the building.
At the open end of the alley he saw the man, blond hair blowing in the breeze as he turned onto the street.
Sirius followed him, winding through the dark streets of London. He was clearly trying to lose Sirius, falling back on his path a few times and cutting through side alleys and parks.
The man walked for a long time. He watched as his hair once again changed color. Blonde hair changed to dark curls, his strong tall build shrinking and narrowing. His stride shortened and his movement went from slightly lurchy to a gracefulness that had been drilled into them since birth.
He followed the man until he reached a building. Watching him walk up the steps to a door and open it with a key, stepping inside. Sirius stood there staring at the door for a long time. Just a few steps and a door between him and a chance to right his worst mistake.
He took a deep breath and walked as calmly as he could up the stairs and knocked on the door. He waited.
The door creaked open, just a few inches. A face looked out from the other side. A face as familiar to him as his own.
The door slammed shut again.
Sirius felt his heart drop, “No! No! Open the door, Please!”
Nothing. The door remained closed, he could hear movement on the other side. He tried the handle, shaking the whole door. Ready to tear it off its hinges if he wouldn’t open it for him. His fist ached with how hard he was pounding on it, demanding to be let in.
He reached for his wand, “Alohomora!” He didn’t care if he was in clear view of the street where any muggle walking by could see him. He needed to get into the flat, he needed to see him. He needed to know this wasn’t a dream.
A loud crack sounded from the other side of the door as Sirius reached to push it open.
No.
He threw the door open, hard enough to rattle the pictures on the wall of the small flat. It was empty. He was gone.
Sirius stepped into the flat, taking in the neat and simple interior. A small room with a couch and a bookshelf on one side, and a small kitchenette and dining table on the other. A hallway with two doors on the far side of the room.
He felt empty. He was gone.
His eyes travelled around the room. Several paintings were hung on the walls, but the only photograph caught his eye. Walking closer he could see that it was of the two of them, the year before he left for Hogwarts. They were so young, so hopeful for their futures. As close as two people could be.
He pulled the frame off the wall and hugged it to his chest. Numbly he walked down the hallway and opened the doors. A bathroom and a bedroom.
He stood outside the bedroom door, looking across the threshold into the room. A bed, nightstand, desk, and chair were the only furniture inside.
Cautiously he entered the room and ran one hand over the duvet on the bed. It smelled like him in here.
He looked at the desk, covered with a few books, an inkwell, and a quill. In the center is a single piece of parchment. The scrawl on the page was so familiar, soft curves of letters made by the hand of a dead man.
Sirius thought he was dead. He was gone.
Stepping closer his eyes fell to the page.
Dear Sirius,
I’m sorry I didn’t leave you a note before.
R.A.B.
He was gone.
Reggie was gone.