Sirius squints up at the sign above his head, reading it for perhaps the dozenth time before looking back down at the blasted phone Kieren has been insisting he carry more frequently. He'll admit that, for today, it's actually been useful and the sole reason he's even been able to find his way to the Cineplex at all.

It's also been his only way of keeping track of the time and, if the numbers on the little device are anything to go by, Kieren is half an hour late.

Perhaps it's foolish to jump to worst case scenarios, but it's only been a month since Sirius had to fight off a man with a crossbow and apparate Kieren into his flat where he couldn't accidentally eat someone.

Letting out a huff, Sirius spends a few more minutes pacing. He checks the time once more then twice more, and after making very sure no one's around to see, pops right into Kieren's front room. The relief he feels over finding Kieren curled up on the sofa, pad of paper in hand, is almost enough for him not to shout.

Almost.

"Is this where you've been?"