( — closed. )
“As a feather,” Sirius confirms,
sagely. “Grass in a storm is
steadier than you after a few
pints.”
He grins at James’ half-pleading
tone, and throws an arm around
his shouders.
“Well. Now that you mention it,
there is something…”
“That’s so not
true, Pads.”
"What is it?“