the_debt_of_time

"I got it," Ron said with a smile and stepped into the green flames of the fireplace,
vanishing from sight.
"All right," Sirius said with a chuckle, returning his focus on Harry. "You go and be
the big hero. Tell her you'll pull the Chosen One card and have the Daily Prophet shut
down."
Harry shook his head with a laugh. "You really overestimate my influence." He
made his way up the stairs toward Hermione's room just as the front door opened and
Remus stepped through.
Though he complained to Sirius about little sleep dealing with Teddy and an
exhausted Tonks, Remus still looked younger than ever. Fatherhood clearly suited him as
well as marriage, though he often said that he was eager to get out of the house as often as
possible considering he and Tonks had both been cooped up for the length of her
pregnancy at Sirius's request.
"Is she here?" Remus asked.
"Upstairs in her room, more than likely sobbing her heart out onto Harry's good-
natured shoulder." Sirius gave half a wry smile and led Remus into the large dining room
where he narrowed his eyes at the open bottle of bourbon on the counter. Sirius wondered
how on earth Draco was surviving at Andromeda's place without having house-elves
constantly picking up after him.
Remus sighed. "I take it she's read this morning's paper?"
"The suggestion that Hermione, of all people, would have a love affair with a Malfoy
is hysterically funny."
"I'm sure she doesn't see it that way."
"Give her a couple of days," Sirius said, his words laced with hidden meaning that
only Remus could fully understand.
"I personally think there are more amusing romantic pairings for Hermione."
Remus grinned slyly at Sirius who rolled his eyes, giving him a rude gesture with one hand
while he set his bottle of bourbon back into the cupboard with the others.
He sighed as he ran his finger over the line-up of liquors in front of him, taking
note of the ones that had collected dust over the years due to neglect. At the end sat an
old, half-empty bottle of Blishen's Firewhisky that he remembered was his father's
favourite brand. 1971. A good year.