three_broomsticks | 3Broomsticks, a mingle meme

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*meme

3Broomsticks, a mingle meme

THREE BROOMSTICKS:
A MINGLE MEME

After a long day, you find yourself tired, achey, in desperate need of a drink, and maybe even a pillow to rest your head on. Three Broomsticks is a warm refuge from the freezing cold snow gusting outside.

"Welcome to the Three Broomsticks, luv! What can I get for you?" Madam Rosmerta is bright and cheery, heralding the bar where a number of wizards are already seated, wetting their whistles with ale or butterbeer.

INSTRUCTIONS
1. Post with your character, noting their name/canon in the subject, and any preferences.
2. Roll a number and tag out to others.
3. Profit.

TIMELINE
a) NORMAL. It's just another day in your character's life. Nothing to see here.
b) TIME HAS NO MEANING. Obligatory option to allow the different generations to interact. Is your character part of the younger crowd, and you always wanted an opportunity to thread with their parents? Maybe now, with the aid of a Time-Turner, you can make it happen!
c) MISC. Make something up. It could be an AU universe where anyone from anywhere can be dragged into the Three Broomsticks. Parents or children can be your character's classmate or colleague, instead. The dead never died. Those from other worlds can have an established life, here.

OPTIONS
01. PARTY ANIMAL. You're drunk, rowdy, and ready to have a good time. Did you receive good news? Crashing someone's get-together? Meeting up at the Three Broomsticks after work with your crew? Stopping by after watching the Quidditch World Cup? Who cares, let's shake things up (just be sure to give Rosmerta a good tip before you go.)
02. GOSSIP AND RUMORS. Drunks are always easy to coax into sharing the latest gossip in the wizarding world. The warm setting makes it even easier to get someone to open up to you, or for you to blab to someone else.
03. SCHEMING. There's a war going on, don't you know? Careful what you say during a meeting, you don't know who might be eavesdropping. Are you undercover? Trying to stay under the radar, whether it's the Ministry's, Order's, or a Voldemort-sympathizer on your tail?
04. LONER. There's no such thing as being alone here. Your character might not want the company, but company's coming anyway, pal.
05. THE DATING LIFE. Why would you think bringing your date here is a good idea? It's loud and rowdy, and you're sure to have someone crash into your intimate moment. Maybe that's a good thing, depending on who you're here with. Are you the crasher, or the crashee?
06. FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT. Here we go. It's inevitable for some drunk to get a little too rowdy. Are you that drunk? The one on the receiving end? Are you giving poor Rosmerta a hand by breaking up the debacle? Or you could be the one who is helping the poor soul who got clobbered. Yikes, that'll leave a shiner.
07. FRISKY. When the booze is flowing, there's always a chance for someone to get hot and bothered. Did someone catch your eye at the bar? Flirting up a storm with your date? With a little liquid courage, you too can admit your eternal feelings for that one person... even if they're a sworn enemy. Take it upstairs, you crazy kids.
08. SPIKED DRINK. Didn't your mama ever tell you to keep an eye on your drink? Now look what's happened, you drank something you weren't supposed to! Are you the poor sap who got hit with a love potion, some luck, or are you suddenly sporting some rainbow-colored hair? Go crazy with the results!
09. FIRST MEETING. Everyone's got to meet for the first time at some point. Maybe you get along asap. Or it could take you some time to warm up to each other. Are you coworkers, and this is your way of extending the olive branch after a job gone good or bad? Maybe you need something from this person.
10. WILDCARD. Choose any option above, or make up your own scenario.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ regulus has always been a bit more fragile than sirius, in a lot of ways. it's what made him so easy to influence, so desperate to prove himself to their parents, to be that model son that they'd hoped to find in sirius, and been disappointed by. regulus was the good boy, the obedient one, far less stubbornly willful than his incorrigible big brother.

still, it's difficult to see him dissolve like this, to drop the cold calmness that he usually used to keep himself together. whatever's happened.. it's bad, regulus is terrified, and it makes sirius' heart twist and ache with grief, a fury surging in his breast born from protectiveness. ]

Hey. [ he says, as softly as he can, and his hands are right back, grasping regulus' shoulders, then up to clasp at his jaw, trying to steady him, to force him to look up. sirius' eyes are dark and fierce and fixed on his face. ]

It's all right. Relax. I won't let anyone hurt you, do you understand me?

[ a big promise, he knows, but sirius feels it fiercely anyway; if he can't protect those who are important to him, what use is he? breaking his gaze, sirius glances up and down the alley. it seems deserted, but you never know who's around, who might be listening, and these things that regulus is muttering.. they're dark, incredibly serious things, things that shouldn't be spoken about in open daylight in the middle of a bustling wizarding village. ]

Come on, let's go home. We'll figure this out there.

[Somewhere in there, buried beyond everything that's happened since, there's a frightened seven-year-old listening to his older brother tell him he won't let anyone hurt them, and trusting in that certainty with every fiber of his tiny being. It's enough to get Regulus to stop. Look up. Meet Sirius' eyes for the first time since he'd seen him again.]

Home.

[The word sounds strange, and it's a little inquisitive. Of course Regulus hasn't been back to the house. That's too risky. No one is supposed to know he's alive. Regulus doesn't have anywhere he's been able to call home since then, he hasn't seen the need for it, he hasn't really known how (or why) to find a new one.

But he's listening to the distant little voice inside him that's telling him, across the years, that Sirius won't let anything bad happen. He's too tired to do anything else. He swallows, and nods.]

Home. Yes. Don't tell anyone.

[ the look on regulus' face, the wide, almost frightened eyes sets off a pang of nostalgia that squeezes sirius' heart like an icy fist. all at once they're children again, and their mother is shrieking, and sirius is entertaining his brother with silly wand tricks to distract him from the fear and the noise. there's a dull ache in the pit of his belly, and a rush of protectiveness just after, steeling his resolve. ]

Right. Good.

[ there's a complicated history still between them, but sirius feels a sweeping relief nonetheless that settles his nerves. he hates grimmauld place, but aside from hogwarts, there are fewer places safer than their childhood home, he thinks, thanks to their father's tireless efforts to safeguard the place. it's more than likely that none but voldemort himself would be able to break in, and chances are, if anyone's after regulus, they would have checked there already - not to mention, it seems so obvious a hiding place that it might very well be the last place anyone would look.

they don't need to stay there for any length of time, only need somewhere to.. decompress, to figure out what on earth is going on, for sirius to get a bloody explanation.

so he nods, exhales hard, and clasps both hands tightly onto regulus' shoulders, apparating them both to the back gardens of their family manor, beneath the shady shelter of a withering willow tree. immediately he's freeing his hand to snatch up his wand, to listen hard, but the place looks, feels, and sounds entirely deserted. ]

[In contrast, Regulus doesn't spare a glance for the gardens, looking up at the house itself rising above them into the sky. Home. Right. Yes.

Grimmauld Place was never the same after a Gryffindor began living there. The house just seemed to know. It had still been home to Regulus, but it had been a chillier home. A more expectant home. A home that looked at him and thought, you'll have to do. Would it hate him now too, now that he'd turned his back on everything his parents had stood for? Does he mind? Should he mind?

Kreacher won't hate him. That gives him enough peace of mind to finally let go of Sirius, although Sirius still has hold of him.]

Do you still live here?

[ contrarily, this place has never been a home to sirius. even when he was too young to really question his family's ideals, he had always felt uncomfortable here, suffocated in a way he hadn't really understood until he'd gotten a little older.

after that it became a prison. it's hateful, this house, everything about it dark and treacherous and wrong. even being here now makes his heart uneasy. at regulus' question he gives a derisive snort. ]

No.

[ the coast seems clear enough, so sirius lowers his wand, and with his free hand, snags regulus gently above the elbow and begins to guide him forward, moving quickly and quietly across the abandoned gardens and to the back door. ]

[Regulus takes that in stride, surprised but also not at all. He doesn't shake his brother off, but he does step forward when they reach the door, and enters the house first. Kreacher is still here, at least he should be, and any defensive enchantments that still simmer around the door won't react to either of them, no matter what Kreacher mutters about Sirius.

The house seems to sigh when they walk into it, and Regulus smiles when he hears the whipcrack of Apparition and the house-elf appears an instant later and bows low.]

...ears have not deceived him, Kreacher sees Master Regulus returns and he brings his brother with him and Kreacher will make them both welcome though it pains him to see, nasty blood traitor that he is...

[Regulus knows he shouldn't laugh, but he has a hand out to hold Sirius back before crouching down and catching Kreacher's attention, staring at him for a few seconds to ensure he really has Kreacher's attention. It's more difficult when they grow so old, but this is Kreacher, Regulus is more than willing to be gentler with him.]

Don't speak about Master Sirius like that again, Kreacher. [And he stands again, because the discussion is over.] Fires, please, in the parlor and the bedrooms.

[ regulus seems to decompress a great deal once they're inside the manor proper, and sirius is grateful for it if only because it's less likely that his brother will bolt on him.

for sirius, it feels like being thrust underwater - cold and suffocating and heavy from all sides. he's never loved these halls, and the painful, angry nostalgia creeps back in like a poisonous fog. echoes of memories that all bounce around in his skull, clear as if they'd happened yesterday. he'd been unhappy here, dreadfully unhappy, and once he'd left he'd hoped to never return.

yet here he is. and bloody hell, he'd nearly forgotten about kreacher, the nasty, twisted little imp that he is, and regulus is right to hold up that hand because sirius is surging forward, mouth open to fling a scathing rebuke, but he bites it back. he hardly needs regulus to protect him, whatever that little monster says means nothing, but he has tact enough at least for the moment to give in and glower at the elf instead, until he's moving off to complete his tasks, muttering quietly as he goes.

pocketing his wand, sirius snorts derisively, but lets it go. ]

You hungry?

[ he's got a thousand questions, yeah, but they've got time. ]

[His mind is more settled when it's hemmed in by these walls he remembers so well. He can focus on one thing at a time now. He focuses on Kreacher leaving, listens to his muttering, but there isn't anything more about Sirius in particular. It's a start.

Then he focuses on Sirius, and it's obvious he's uncomfortable in his own skin in this house, and it makes Regulus frown a little, but Sirius had brought them here. It's safe to talk here, for now. The house is even more secure with Blacks inside it.]

I should eat.

[Said as a polite acknowledgement that food is often a good idea. Now that they're home, he unfolds himself from his traveling cloak, absently smoothing down the edges of the white cloth that neatly wraps both his forearms, and hops up to sit on a marble countertop. This had occasionally been allowed, and he's been through horrors since they were boys, but there's still a delicious sense of disobeying the rules.]

[ sirius might not be comfortable here, no, but this isn't about him. it's about regulus. and much as sirius might seem like a self-absorbed prick much of the time, when it comes to those who are important to him, those he loves.. he'd do anything. give anything. they're here because regulus is safe here, and it's becoming more and more apparent that it was the right choice. his brother seems far, far more at ease here than he'd been in hogsmeade, like something inside of him is coming alive again, one little candle flame at a time. ]

Yeah, you should.

[ sirius has no idea what they even have. though it hasn't been long at all since their parents passed, sirius still doubts that the kitchen is stocked - anything perishable would have long since soured, but he'll dig something up.

he's eyeing those wraps as he opens the pantry doors, however, and he snags regulus' wrist for a moment, eyeballing what he presumes are bandages, before he's digging around on the shelves. there are still a few dusty cans he can work with. ]

You get hurt?

What? Oh.

[The wraps. Regulus raises his arms to look at them as if seeing them for the first time. It was a coincidence that he'd used white instead of black, the sheet he'd torn apart the moment he couldn't bear to look at the Mark anymore had been white, but Sirius doesn't know about that, does he? They must look alarming.]

No. I just didn't want to look at...at my arms anymore. I'm fine.

[Suddenly restless, he hops down and pulls out his wand, casting a few wordless cleaning spells to rid the kitchen of the dust that's collected since anyone had lived here, working around Sirius, giving him space. He'd be facing awkward questions soon enough, and he knows his brother's temper well enough to know it might not be far behind, but for now, they can work together at something quiet and practical.]

[ right away, sirius' senses sharpen and his eyes narrow; there's far more to it than what regulus is telling him, and immediately sirius feels a clutching in his gut, something cold and misgiving squeezing at his insides. it's a terrible feeling.

he'll push. but not right now. food first, and a bit more time for regulus to decompress before sirius is railroading him with questions. reckless and wild and forward as he is, sirius has grown at least a little bit of patience since they were younger, and it has its limits, but he'll let it go for now.

.. just for a little while.

sirius glances over his shoulder at regulus once or twice as he works, but more or less he leaves his brother to his work, and works on putting together something of a stew from the canned meats and vegetables and broths he's recovered from the pantry. it's not going to be anything gourmet, but it'll be edible, at least. might be better with some rice or pasta to pour over it, but they're fresh out of that for the moment; if reggie's going to be living here a bit more permanently, he supposes they'll need to get him stocked up.. ]

Order up.

[Good timing, just as Regulus has finished cleaning the table to a polished shine and the last of the dust is off the benches. Meals are few and far between, he makes do with what he can find and he'd been planning on eating at the Three Broomsticks but hadn't got round to it yet, so the scent of whatever Sirius has found to put into the stew is making him almost a little lightheaded.

It's also a good excuse to put off talking a little longer. They are neither of them strangers to silence during dinners, either because there was nothing they were allowed to discuss or because neither of them bothered to try getting a word in edgewise over their parents, but this silence doesn't have that same icy blanket to it. It's almost comfortable. Half of Regulus' first bowl disappears within a minute before he makes himself slow down and savor. It's more than just edible, considering Sirius had patched it together from what he'd found.

Once he's halfway through his second bowl, he sets his spoon down and props his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them, and looks over at Sirius.]

I'm sorry I didn't tell you.

[ sirius cocks a brow at regulus as he eats, at how quick he is to scarf it down and go for seconds, and he doesn't say anything, but he's wondering what that means, how long he's been hiding, running. it's worrisome.

he's eating now though, at least, so there's that. and sirius will keep stuffing him full of food as long as he needs to. he only eats one bowl himself, doesn't need more than that, but he takes his time with it, so they're more or less finished around the same time. sirius wipes his mouth on the back of his knuckles because he's a well-bred, aristocratic boy of course, then pushes the bowl aside and crosses his arms casually over the tabletop, leaning his weight onto them.

he doesn't get the chance to even ask anything however, before regulus is apologizing, and sirius is silent, for a moment, his gaze dropping to the table while he tries to gather his thoughts. ]

Me too.

[ he says, finally, and normally it might sound scathing, but sirius' voice is soft and low. he is sorry. sorry he didn't know sooner. he could have helped. sorry he didn't try harder, work harder. he's sorry about a great deal of things.

rubbing a hand over his face, sirius exhales then lifts his eyes to regulus' face again, and they're sharp, intense, focused. ]

But you'll tell me now. What are we up against, here?

[It's still difficult to even think about for too long, he's seen the Dark Lord pull thoughts from the heads of people who aren't even there. His fingers twist around each other, find a loose thread on the edge of the arm wraps and worry at it, and he looks at that instead of at Sirius.]

I-I don't know how to start. I don't know how...I don't know if you'll believe me and you need to believe me, Sirius.

[There's a lot in his eyes when he looks up again, a hunted expression of mistrust, because what reason would Sirius have to believe him? They've been on opposite sides since Regulus was eleven. But this is still Sirius, still his brother who stormed through a crowded pub to drag him home, a place he hates, because he'd known it was where Regulus needed to be.

He takes a breath and folds his hands tightly.]

I did almost die. Everyone...they all think I'm dead. Everyone else. They don't know what I've done. He doesn't know that I know, not yet. I'm sorry, I haven't needed to talk very much since the cave. [He can tell his words are running all over the place, and his hands would be flying with gestures too if he wasn't keeping them still.] He can make horcruxes. He has. I learned about one.

[ sirius knows quite well that he's a bit of a prat when it comes to listening. he usually needs time, time to process and cool off before he's really ready to absorb things he doesn't want to hear. but he'd processed it all long ago, when he first began to realize he was losing his brother to his parents, that regulus was slipping away and there wasn't a single damned thing he could do about it. he's raged already, they've fought, rowed, screamed, and it's over, it's in the past.

grieving regulus' presumed death - it sort of put things in perspective, when you feel like you've gotten a second chance. sirius is ready to listen, open-eared and waiting. ]

So you were -

[ - really one of them, he means to say, but doesn't finish. it was a presumption, really, assuming that regulus had really become a fully fledged death eater, not simply a supporter of the cause. he'd known it, they'd both known he knew it, but still somehow knowing it for certain hurts. sirius can't help but feel like he'd failed. he'd been too damned self-absorbed, too defiant and willful. he'd given up too soon, should have tried harder to pull his brother out of the fire.

sixteen. he was sixteen. a bloody child.

sighing hard, sirius scrubs his hands over his face, and keeps his thoughts behind his teeth. there are more important things to discuss. ]

Horcrux?

I—oh. [Regulus pauses, thrown for a moment by the question, horcruxes are all he's been thinking about since the moment Kreacher had said the word and Regulus had realized the awful depth of truth behind it. He forgets sometimes that it's a secretive branch of Dark magic, even from most Dark wizards. And Sirius has always gone out of his way to avoid any trace of darkness on him.

He's still shining with that now, almost glowing with his determination to do right. He thinks he's imagining the burn of the Mark on his arm, the sinuous movement, the way it twines through him inside. He imagines a lot of things.]

He's cut off a part of his soul and put it into an object. He can't die.

[Then he reaches up to his neck and tugs on a silver chain, and pulls a green and silver necklace out from beneath his shirt.]

If I don't kill this, he won't die. He doesn't know I have it. No one knows except Kreacher, no one.

[ sirius is quizzical, but the moment regulus starts to explain he feels a heavy stone drop into his gut.

it's.. it's barbaric in a way that sirius doesn't have words for. he's seen a lot of terrible things since voldemort began to rise, he's heard stories, seen deaths, tortures, watched the wizarding world break apart in ways he never could have imagined. voldemort is unclean, he's disgusting, abhorrent, and yet somehow this seems too far even for him.

he's severed his own soul? is there anything more.. more base than that? more wrong? just the thought of it is enough to make sirius tense up, and his hands resting on his own forearms bunch in his sleeves, like he's hearing nails on a chalkboard. it's a crime against the natural world, it is, and when regulus pulls the chain from under his robes sirius is staring at it like it's the most repulsive thing he's ever seen. ]

That's..

[ merlin's beard, even the implication of a horcrux aside, the idea that it somehow makes voldemort invulnerable is even more terrifying. sirius drags a hand over his mouth, thumb rubbing against the scruff on his jaw. ]

.. is that the only one?

I don't know.

[He stares at the locket, turning it over in his fingers. It's heavier than it should be. When it hangs around his neck (and it always hangs around his neck) the world is darker and more full of shadows than he knows it is. He avoids people at the best of times, and that's only been made easier with this. People avoid him now.

He lets the locket fall against his chest, against his heart, and laces his fingers again, twists them, picks at the loose thread along the wraps, watching as he pulls slowly and it unravels stitch by stitch by stitch.]

I don't think so. He doesn't do things that way. He's. Careful.

[And yes, it's said with the quiet confidence of someone who's watched him do things.]

Okay. [ he says, not feeling okay at all, but trying to keep it together, because like it or not, this is the truth of it. ] Okay.

[ he'd asked for this, he knows. like ripping off a bandaid, he'd needed to know, needed to hear the worst of it, to know exactly what they're up against because sirius had never really been the sort to hide from the things that intimidate him. better to know exactly what they're facing, in all of its ugliness.

he hadn't tried hard enough to protect regulus before, he's not going to blow this second chance. ]

Guessing you don't know how to get rid of it?

[ if he did, he might not still be carrying it around, right? ]

I don't. I can't find...I've tried. So many things.

[And for a moment the sheer exhaustion leaches through as Regulus closes his eyes, scrubbing his fingers through his hair as he bows his head, stretching his neck. He's been on the move with it, trying something new to destroy it every time he has a chance, stopping only long enough for a few hours' restless sleep at a time, here and there a full night.

He'd even spent an afternoon in a forge, pumping the coals to white and staring as the necklace just. Sat there. Still cool to the touch when he'd finally pulled it back out. Laughing at him. Whispering.]

It whispers. All the time. It never stops.

[ sirius doesn't know the first bloody thing about horcruxes, how they function, what sort of area of effect they might give off, what sort of influence they might have on their bearers. he wouldn't think the pull could be that strong - how potent could one shard of one man's soul be?

but voldemort is no ordinary man, and hatred is like a poison, it seeps into everyone and everything around it, creeping like ivy, difficult to exterminate. whatever the case, it's clearly affecting regulus in some way, and sirius can't help but worry. he loves his brother, and he's so incredibly proud of him for doing what he's done, for turning away from voldemort where others are too terrified to, but regulus has always been.. the softer of the two of them. more easily persuaded, more malleable. it's what got him into this mess in the first place. sirius can't help but be concerned that the hideous thing might be weighing on him a bit more than it might others. ]

Well, you're not on the run anymore.

[ he says, succinctly, making the assumption that this arrangement isn't temporary. as far as sirius is concerned, they're sticking together, there's no running anymore. he'd already been considering offering this place up to the order, anyway; it's his now, for better or for worse, might as well do some good with it. with the right protections, it'd be impenetrable even to voldemort himself, even on top of its already incredible amount of protective spells and charms already on it. save hogwarts itself, sirius doubts there's any safer place in britain. ]

You should take it off for awhile.

[His hands go to the locket immediately, fingers wrapping around the sharp-edged glass and metal. He never takes it off, not unless he's going to try (again) to destroy it (and fail) (again), but. It's heavy. It's heavy, and he's heavy, the food and the familiarity of home making him slow and warm. Safe.

He can't stay, he can't stay long in any one place, he can't risk being found, but.

There's a tremor in his hands when he slides them up the chain, and it almost seems to weigh itself more, the chain pressing links into the back of his neck as he lifts, drags, pulls it off and lets it fall to the table with a dull thud much louder than something of its size ought to have.]

...don't touch it. I don't want it to hurt you.

[Moving fast, sharply fast, Regulus gets a dusty rounded glass cover, the type that should have a cake beneath it, and covers the hissing, whispering thing a little more firmly than necessary.]

[ sirius watches the thing, how it eerily resists being removed, the too-heavy sound it makes when it falls against the table, and even after it's trapped beneath the bell cover sirius still stares at it, aggravated and repulsed, like it's a snake reared to strike.

he isn't worried about touching it. for better or for worse, sirius black is a bull-headed, stubborn creature, resistant to outside influence, and regulus was able to carry it safely enough - but he's got no desire to touch the thing, anyway.

he hates its presence, though, and after a tense few moments he tosses his linen napkin over the glass cover for good measure, because it feels like the damned creepy thing is watching them. ]

You shouldn't need to wear it all the time. Not while we're here.

[ rubbing at his chin, sirius lapses into thoughtful silence, and after a few moments he speaks again. ]

You should let me put it in the safe.

[ there are upsides to being the heir to a very old, very secretive, very dark family. now that their parents are gone, the full knowledge of this place has been passed on to sirius. he knows all of its secrets, every inch of grimmauld place from top to bottom. there are hidden places only he can find and access, places anyone would be hard pressed to find. it would be unwise to leave the horcrux unattended and unprotected, but so long as they're going to be in the house.. ]

[Now that it's off him, it's like breathing in the first breeze of spring, crisp and sweet. Regulus sits again, suddenly drained and a little hollow, but lighter, so much lighter. He already can't bear the thought of putting it on again, letting it weigh him down, cut into him, whisper. He can't hear it anymore.

Still staring at the cloth, he nods.]

I will. We should. Until we...

[He trails off and looks up at Sirius, uncertain suddenly. He's been off trying to kill this horror, he doesn't know what Sirius has been doing. Had avoided finding out, he thinks, because if he'd known, it would have been so much harder to stay away, to keep focused on his purpose, but that's been dashed anyway. Sirius is here, Sirius has rescued him, and now he isn't certain he can go back to keeping a distance.]

Are you...you'll help me?

[ sirius can see the difference already, like someone's lifted a weight off of regulus' shoulders, and it only reaffirms his desire to put the thing away, to hide it and protect it so he doesn't need to carry it around, influenced and affected. no one should have to deal with that.

you'll help me, regulus asks, and sirius looks mildly thunderstruck, because of course he'll help, you prat. he nearly says as much, but stops himself - because if regulus feels that he has to actually ask that, it's sirius' own fault. for not being around. for not looking out for him. for letting him fall into all of this.

so he sighs softly instead, and nods. ]

Yeah. Of course.

[ he says, quietly, then glances toward the covered glass again. the sooner he gets the thing locked away, the better. scowling, he pulls away the cloth napkin, then hesitates only briefly before lifting the lid. without wasting a beat, sirius tosses the napkin over the horcrux and snatches it up that way, not terribly keen on touching it barehanded. wrapping it tightly, sirius knots the napkin, and pushes up from the table. ]

I'll get it squared away. [ a beat. ] You should.. get some sleep, Reggie. You look a mess.

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