Philosophy, task three: Write about someone facing the consequences of overindulgence

Disney, Spoonful of Sugar: Write about someone seeing the good in something bad

Crafty Corner, cast on: Write about two people meeting for the first time

Auction: coffee shop!au

Word Count: 827

Sirius hates himself when he wakes up. His head throbs, and his stomach twists itself into painful knots. Within seconds, he's bolting, nearly knocking an equally groggy James out of the way in his hurry to reach the bathroom. He doesn't even bother to close the door behind him before kneeling at the toilet.

Fuck, he thinks as acidic vomit snakes his way up his throat.

Every weekend, he tries to tell himself that he's going to take things slow. At twenty-eight, his wild days of endless partying are behind him, and he knows he shouldn't try to drink like he's got a shiny, new liver.

And yet, every weekend, he does the exact same thing. He and James always swear they're going to have a pint and call it an evening. It doesn't take long before the pint turns into shot after shot of burning liquor.

He misses his youth, a time when recovering from of overindulgence had been easy. Now, he feels like he might die as he flushes the toilet and makes his way to the sink. He doesn't want to look at his reflection, but he forces himself to.

His grey eyes are bloodshot, and his dark hair is a mess of tangles. There's no denying it: Sirius Black, who has always been a teensy bit on the vain side, looks as shitty as he feels.

With a groan, he turns on the faucet, cupping his hands beneath the flow of cold water and splashing it onto his face. After repeating this several times and brushing out his knotted hair, Sirius looks slightly more alive, but it isn't quite enough. He has a job to get to, and his mind still feels so sluggish and hazy.

"If I ever try to drink again, please punch me," Sirius says as he leaves the bathroom and passes James in the hallway.

"Like that'll work," his roommate muses.

Sirius shrugs. He already knows it won't do any good, but it's just another part of the ritual. Swearing off alcohol always makes him feel a little better as his body decides to punish him after a wild night.

He grabs his leather jacket and slips it on. He has to feel better soon.

…

The coffee shop is a nightmare. It's a little too crowded, and even the soft chatter makes Sirius' head feel like it might explode. When he reaches the barista, everything seems to get worse.

"Coffee," he says.

"How would you like it?"

"Coffee…"

It takes several seconds of the teenage girl staring at him like he's a complete idiot for him to realize his mistake. His cheeks burn as a blush stains them. "Black," he corrects. "I'd like it black."

The barista nods and rings him up, trying to make small talk as he digs through his pockets for the crumpled up bills. "Keep the change," Sirius mutters, wanting to avoid any more unnecessary chatter.

He accepts his coffee and starts for the door, his head still pounding and the robust fragrance of his drink filling his nostrils. Sirius doesn't know what happens. Maybe he's still a little shaky from his hangover, or maybe he's just a little claustrophobic right now. Whatever the reason, he loses his grip on his coffee, and the hot liquid spills, splashing his pant leg.

"Here, let me help," someone says as Sirius bends down to grab the now empty cup.

Whipped cream and frozen coffee that smells heavily of caramel land on Sirius' hand as the young woman reaches down with a handful of napkins. "I'm so sorry!" she gasps, jerking back when she realizes she's lost her coffee as well.

Sirius looks up, and the world seems to brighten for a moment. The fact that the beginning of his day has been horrible no longer matters when he sees the woman who has tried to help. She is lovely with her wild curls and tan cardigan. "It's okay," he assures her. "At least you drink frozen coffee."

She smiles at that, and it makes her look even more beautiful somehow.

"Let me buy you another coffee, Miss…?"

"No Miss, please. Hermione. It's just Hermione."

He offers her his most dazzling smile, relishing the way she blushes the softest pink. "Well, Just Hermione, I would like to buy you a coffee since you spilled yours while coming to my rescue."

"You really don't have to," she says.

"I want to. Just like I want to take you out to dinner tonight to thank you," he insists. "I'm Sirius, by the way."

"You sound serious," Hermione chuckles. "I accept."

"No. Sirius. S-I-R-I-U-S. My name."

And as they make their way back to the counter to try their luck at ordering a second time, Sirius thinks that maybe drinking isn't terrible. After all, if not for his hangover, he wouldn't have been in this coffee shop at the same time as Hermione.

But he will slow down on the drinking.

Maybe.