Post by Deleted on Oct 25, 2013 10:58:30 GMT -8
OPEN
The walk down to Hogsmeade was bitterly cold. Sirius bundled up in one of his finer coats - one of the ones that he always vowed to never wear due to the fact that it was bought from his family's privilege, yet there it was around his shoulders anyways. Poverty only got you so far, and when the Potters only saw him in the summer, it never really occurred to buy him a winter jacket, and he wouldn't ask. He'd probably feel uncomfortable accepting it anyways.
The coat he wore was peacoat style with fur around the collar. The buttons were made from finely crafted silver, but luckily there wasn't any traces of Slytherin colours outside of that. The biggest problem with the jacket was that it made him look very aristocratic and proper. He was only lucky that his mates weren't with him - Peter had found the coat once and he never heard the end of it. It was almost the opposite problem of Remus - where Remus couldn't help but look shabby because of his family's position, Sirius couldn't help but look, well, rich. It wasn't going to be a problem much longer, though, as he didn't intend on hanging around there anymore. Then again, he had been saying that since after his first year of Hogwarts. The recent death of his favourite uncle, however, favoured him. He had been given such an inheritance that he could live off of it for an amount of time that Sirius couldn't at the moment fathom. As much as he had deeply cared for this uncle, he hadn't imagined that he'd be left anything at all. He'd never been given an inheritance of any kind. Many family wasn't so bad all the time. Perhaps the first thing he should rid himself of was that ridiculous coat - even if Sirius secretly thought he looked good in it.
By the time Sirius reached the village, the snow was coming down rather thickly in large flakes. The sky was a deep grey, and it was the type of weather that he actually enjoyed, even if it made walking a little more difficult. Less people seemed to come down on weekends where it was snowy, and he couldn't really blame them - it was also fun having snowball fights on the grounds. He was in the mood to get away from the castle, though, and headed to his favourite haunt - the Three Broomsticks.
The moment he entered, the heat of the place hit him like a ton of bricks. He unbuttoned his jacket and settled himself into an empty booth before slouching it off. It was strange to see the place so empty. He left his jacket as he got up to buy a Firewhiskey. He was initially declined due to all his previous attempts when he was younger to buy it every time he came in - now, however, he was of age and he could buy whatever he well liked. He sat back at his booth with it. He took a small swig of it and felt it's fiery taste go down. Although the warmth was certainly welcomed in the cold, he immediately felt it in his stomach and began to wonder if he should have just gotten a Butterbeer.