Author's Note: Written for the Fanfiction School of Imagination and Creativity under Mathematics Assignment 1. My prompts given were birthday card, sleeping, well, Ron Weasley, Exploding Snap and autumn.

Yew

Never chooses an owner who is timid.

He was my Godson, my best friend's only son. Yet I had never even written him a card before. How many birthdays had I missed while I was locked away in Azkaban? The milestones gone and forgotten, as I had rotted away in my cell.

The blank birthday card I had bought sat alone on the table. It was one of those with a big fourteen on the front. I watched in boredom as the number danced across the front, leaving an array of sparkling colours behind it. Harry would still enjoy it, unaccustomed to the norms of wizarding society which most would claim trivial.

My quill hovered over the inside, as I strained for inspiration. I drop of ink landed in the centre, blemishing the pure white of the card. Quickly sliding my wand from my pants pocket, I searched my memory for a stain remover charm. Being unable to use magic for several years, my spell casting was rusty. I glanced down at the splotch. The single mark was surrounded by the bleak white. I placed my wand back inside my pants pocket and continued writing Harry his birthday wishes.

When I slipped the card inside its envelope, it contained the ink stain and all. For when has life ever been perfect?

Sleeping was an unexpected difficulty for Sirius. After years spent locked away in a small cell, he thought the luxury of a real bed would be a blessing. The bed itself was comfortable. He was wrapped in several blankets, snuggled into the warmth of soft linin. Several pillows melded around his head, the material cool to the touch. He stretched his legs from one corner to another, wallowing in the vacant room of his king size bed. No, the comfort wasn't the problem.

He opened his eyes and waited until they readjusted to the lack of light. The vision that met him wasn't unfamiliar, in fact, he had spent a good sixteen years calling this room his own. When he had lived with his parents, it was the only sanctuary he could escape to. He had used every spell, charm and curse to protect his bedroom from invading eyes and disappointed parents. His teenage self was rebellious, plastering posters of half-naked muggle girls and sports cars all over the walls.

Sirius softly smiled at his old self. Optimistic and more than a little cheeky. Time really changes a person. His smile slipped. His room felt oddly empty. It didn't feel like it was his anymore. Not after… not after everything that happened. Sirius turned over, facing his back to the past. Sleep still evaded him.

Sirius sat in the decrepit lounge room. Broken pictures of his family lay at his feet, the glass having shattered over the worn floorboards. The armchair he sat on –once a bright orange- was now dulled to a pale brown. The ceiling was covered in layers of cobwebs, as a thick coating of dust settled over everything. The windows were boarded and cast depressing shadows over the only inhabitant in the room. Sirius took another gulp of the burning liquid, delighting in the numbness which overtook his body.

Remus sighed as he watched his only remaining friend, drink away his mind on firewhiskey. He had been standing in the doorway for about five minutes, debating with himself if he should intervene.

"I know you're there, Remus," Sirius spoke to the wall, keeping his back to the door.

Remus inhaled sharply and stepped into the room, avoiding the broken glass and taking a seat in an adjacent chair to Sirius. There was a thick silence between them, almost suffocating. Tongue darting around his dry mouth, Remus was lost for words. Sirius continued to take swigs from his bottle, leaning his head against the back of his armchair.

"I'm worried about you," Remus whispered.

The words –through softly spoken- were easily heard amongst the quiet room. The silence was broken.

"All day you sit in here, staring at nothing and drinking firewhiskey. This isn't healthy Sirius. Let us help you! Let me help you!" Remus exclaimed, placing a comforting hand on his friend's knee.

Sirius slapped away the hand, an angry expression overtaking his face.

"I don't need help! I'm fine. Perfect, actually," he spat.

"Sirius, please. Just look at yourself, look at what you're doing!" Remus begged.

"I'm fine Remus. Leave it alone! It's none of your business," Sirius growled.

"At least think about Harry. Would he want to see you like this? What would James say? He choose you as godfather…" frowned Remus.

"You keep James out of this!" Sirius yelled.

He quickly stood, towering over Remus as he grimaced. The fast movement was too much for his head and he soon collapsed back into the armchair. Tears slowly collected around Sirius' face as he sobbed into his hands. Remus sat back down in his chair.

"You're not okay. You haven't been okay in a while. Please, please let me help you," Remus softly spoke, his voice quivered with emotion.

Sirius, with his head in his hands, nodded approval. It was all too much for him.

Sirius was worried. He had allowed the Weasley family to occupy his house during the children's summer holidays. Grimmauld place was the secret headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix, the recently resurrected organisation lead by Dumbledore. He finally officially met the family his godson held in the highest regards. Molly was a little overbearing but Arthur was a good man. Percy mainly kept to himself, mostly working away from his family. He enjoyed the twins' energy, reminding him of the pranksters his friends once were. Ginny was sweet but definably held a rambunctious side. Then there was Ron. Harry's best friend.

This was the boy that Harry trusted the most. The boy himself seemed alright, not too bright but there for a good laugh. But was he trustworthy? Would he do anything to protect his friends? To protect Harry? Was he good enough to even call Harry his best friend? Sirius wasn't sure and he knew that Ron wasn't sure either.

Taking a deep breath, Harry entered the room. Sirius was absentmindedly staring at the window, a longing expression adorning his face. Sitting opposite him, Harry carefully placed the small pack on the table. The longer Sirius was kept cooped inside his parent's house, the more depressed he became. Harry wanted to distract his godfather, make him forget –if just for a moment- the unappealing position they were in.

"Hey Sirius?" Harry began.

"Yes, pup," Sirius turned his attention onto his godson, finally noticing the small pack Harry had placed on the coffee table.

"Exploding snap?" Sirius questioned, "Wouldn't you rather play with your friends?"

"Nah," Harry smiled, "It's really game made for two don't you think?"

Sirius beamed, as he opened the pack of cards and lay them on the table. An excited energy filled the room, as the two occupants sat on the floor facing the card pile.

"Alright let's play the classic game. Do you remember the rules?" Harry asked.

Sirius paused for a moment, as he thought.

"It's been a while since I've played," Sirius admitted, "When you see two identical pictures, you hit the card with the top of your wand. One point is yours."

"That's right. At the end, the player with the most points wins the game. The hard part is, the cards shuffle faster and faster, while some will explode spontaneously during the game," Harry smiled. "You ready to lose, old man?" He teased.

"Hey! I'm still young. Not a single grey hair, thank you very much," Sirius laughed, as he grabbed the deck of cards.

Placing them in the middle of the table, they magically began to shuffle. When the first cards were being dealt, both Sirius and Harry had their wands resting in their hands. They were ready to quickly draw when the first pair was discovered.

"That's a point to me," Harry smirked, being the first to touch the pair.

The game continued on, with the two following closely in points.

"Alright, final draw. Winner take all!" Sirius exclaimed, leaning towards the scorched table.

The cards shuffled and quickly dealt into two piles. A pair appeared and both men leapt forward. Harry kicked Sirius, as Sirius tried pulling Harry back. A wand touch later and Harry was declared the winner.

"You little cheater!" Sirius laughed, as he tackled Harry to the floor.

Cards exploded around them as Sirius pounced onto Harry's stomach. The two struggled, as they wrestled on the ground. Both trying to gain the upper hand. Harry gasped for breath as he couldn't stop laughing. Sirius barked a loud chuckle, as he pinned Harry to the ground.

"Not bad for an old man, huh!" He teased.

A voice from the doorway suddenly interrupted their laughter.

"Well, what do we have here? Wrestling? Exploding snap," a dark, gloomy voice scoffed.

Harry scowled as he recognised the speech. As he sat up, he felt Sirius stiffen next to him. Severus Snape was looming in the open door, adorning his usual black robes and greasy hair.

"I see you spend your time productively. Others actually have important work to complete," Severus sneered, as he continued down the hallway to the meeting room.

"I-I uh," Sirius stuttered, at the retreating back.

Harry grimaced, ready for the explosion.

"That slimy bastard. Who does he think he is? The Minister of Magic? He knows nothing… Ugly git… Snivellus…" Sirius grumbled, pacing around the room in a hurried frenzy.

Harry sighed as his godfather ignored him completely. A distraction was a good idea, if only Snape hadn't intervened. The potions professor always found a way to ruin his ideas.

It was a brisk autumn day. The clouds scuttled across the sky as the sun broke out in bursts, leaving a trail of sunlight across my hands. I sat alone inside, leaning against the frame of the open window. Watching leaves fall in herald of the coming winter, the bright browny-orange colours decorated the ground. Gusts of strong wind blew wistfully in every direction, dancing across my bare face. Faint odours of wet wood and cut grass tickled my nose, as I breathed in the familiar scent. It smelt of freedom, of happiness, of a better life. One that I was locked away from.