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Sirius was in the corner of the ballroom between a pair of carved ice sculptures with some of the other adults as they watched the strange dancing and undulating of the youth. Moody, with whom he had been "talking" (bragging) about Harry's prowess in the first task, alongside Remus and Minerva, excused himself without warning and stalked to the other end of the room, disappearing within the crowd.
"Has he seemed out of it to you?" He asked Remus as they watched the area he had stumbled off to.
"It's been a long time since you last interacted with him," McGonagall said. "He's been more quiet since his retirement."
"Mad-Eye, quiet? Abnormal," Sirius insisted.
"You act as though you are not a completely different man than you were before your imprisonment," she argued back.
"Yes, and I was in prison, Minnie, what is Alastor's excuse?"
Her face fell.
"I have been worried. Have you noticed that flask, he's been drinking like mad. I've tried to talk to him gently but he insisted he was alright. It's unhealthy to be that dependent, and I have heard from students he's been drinking in class." She sighed. "He's been fairly normal otherwise, quiet, yes. Withdrawn."
"Drinking? Damn. Back when I was in auror training, I asked if he wanted to go to a pub after work, and he went into me for at least thirty minutes about how drinking led to complacency. It's not very 'constant vigilance' of him."
Minerva pursed her lips into a thin line. The thin wrinkles shifted around her face making her look very old and very tired.
"I'd thought retirement would do him some good. Then I thought some time around other people, mentoring children, might do him some good."
"I think he isn't sure what to do with himself," Remus assured her. "He's in an odd stage of his life, and he isn't coping well. I doubt the reminders of the war and all this mess with the papers and Fudge arguing about You-Know-Who are not helping."
Minerva nodded, and their quiet conversation was interrupted by Alabasandria storming over, a faint hint of concern visible behind her eyes, which meant that she was internally panicking.
"Have any of you seen Harry recently?"
"I last saw him and Mr. Weasley sulking at the tables," McGonagall said and put a placating hand on her shoulder. "I understand you are dreadfully worried about Mr. Potter, but please try to relax. What could possibly happen to the dear boy tonight?"
"It's the solstice! If Voldemort needs Harry for any manner of evil ritual, he would have to do it tonight," she insisted. "If he hadn't been obligated to attend this stupid dance, I would have made him stay locked in his dorm!" Her paranoid worry grew across her face, eyebrows furrowed as she scanned the crowd of students.
Minerva sucked in a breath. "Well, he would have to get into the school…"
"Like someone did to put Harry's name in the goblet?" Alabasandria snapped. Sirius gave a cursory glance over the crowd, but couldn't make anyone out against the mass of students. He'd seen Hermione a few minutes ago, where had the kids gone?
"Allie -" Sirius stumbled through the nickname. " - Alabasandria, let's go dance. We'll take a lap around, yeah? Don't get your knickers in a twist." He was sure Harry was fine, hopefully having a fun, normal night for once, but it wouldn't hurt to check.
She nodded, barely acknowledging him, and Sirius excused them both. Remus gave an awkward bow to Minerva and the two dancing couples took off to different sides of the room to check for the students.
Despite the fast-paced modern music, Sirius and Alabasandria moved in a stilted sort of waltz, with straight spines and darkened eyes focused on anywhere but the other person.
"Are you done throwing your hissy fit or are you still mad at me?" She said unprompted, voice low as they took a turn towards the tables of hors d'oeuvres.
Sirius rolled his eyes so hard that they hurt.
"Oh, of course! Forgive me for making a fuss of you mutilating a child's soul! How old was he, when he made it?" He asked in a tight voice.
"It was the third ritual he performed." She said curtly, looking up at him with violent eyes over the edge of her nose.
He blinked, thinking it over. His grip on her waist was strong enough to leave bruises.
"Christ and Merlin, what the fuck is wrong with you? How could you do that to a child, to my child?"
"Excuse me? He was my child before he was yours! I did it to protect him! I would do anything to protect him!" She growled low in his ear as they spun across the dance floor.
"You made a six-year-old split his soul! That is not protection! I can't believe I thought you were better than that!"
"What, you thought I had morals, did you? Idiot. How many times must I tell you to get over yourself? You, who forced your way into mine and Harry's life. You abandoned him to Dumbledore's care. You as good as left him with those filthy fucking muggles! You dare assert yourself as his father?"