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Summary
“Is this a trap?” he mumbled, unable to stop himself. James laughed, but Sirius continued. “I don’t have a resume. I don’t even have an address. Surely, you’re not that busy that you need to offer some idiot off the street a job.”
Something flickered in James’ face then and he looked deep in thought for a split second before he seemed to make his decision.
“I’d like to offer you the job,” he said resolutely, expression kind yet firm. “And my spare room.”
Sirius opened his mouth to protest as James held his hands up placatingly.
“Don’t argue,” he insisted. “You said you’ve come all this way from London? Just tonight?” Sirius nodded dejectedly. “Then yeah, you’re staying at mine. You can wash your clothes and have a proper shower and sleep in a proper bed, alright? It’s just me, mum and dad at home. They love bringing home strays.” He said this last with a grin and a wink, making Sirius huff an embarrassed laugh.
or
Sirius finds solace in a greasy spoon run by a walking ray of sunshine. A story about healing.