cauldronfulloflove

[cauldronfulloflove]

Sirius Black, circa 1977

“Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course -- exceptionally bright, in fact -- but I don’t think we’ve ever had such a pair of troublemakers --” - PoA

link: James Potter

[cauldronfulloflove]

James Potter, circa 1977

“Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here -- ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!” - PoA

link: Sirius Black

[cauldronfulloflove]

I really wanted to animate one of these scenes where Ron and Harry are goofing off, because I think it’s interactions like these that make the books fun.

[cauldronfulloflove]

anyway my personal headcanon is that james & lily’s headstone didnt have middle names bc lupin knew that, even in death, james wld never want snape to know his middle name was fleamont

[cauldronfulloflove]

Gilderoy Lockhart. 1964-present. 

A famous con artist. Best remembered for forgetting all about being a con artist. 

[cauldronfulloflove]

1) Surely I'm in the thousands by now.

2) To Kill a Mockingbird. Or Huck Finn.

3) Harry Potter and the Sorcerors Stone. Back when JKR could write an amazing story in under 300 pages.

4) Two Towers, LOTR

5) Squire by Tamora Pierce

6) HP series - too many times to count, Pride & Prejudice - at least 5x, LOTR series - at least 6x, The Protector of the Small series - many times, although often I pick up halfway

7) All books. I have a serious problem with all-nighters.

8) The Silmarillion. I expected a hard read but it was wonderful.

9) The Scarlet Letter. I'm a push-through-to-the-end kind of girl, but I put this one down.

10) Probably one of my older classics. I like exploring the antique section of bookstores.

11) Eragon

12) Anne of Green Gables.

13) LOTR. It's hard to please me, but this one did.

14) Protector of the Small series. Needs to happen now.

15) Gilead by Marilynne Robinson. I don't see how the season is relevant though.

16) Sherlock Holmes. Good one to curl up next to the fire and read.

17) Probably Tortall.

18) Calcifer from Howl's Moving Castle

19) Little Women. Any of the sisters.

20) Hamlet and Horatio, lol. Horatio just runs with it.

21) Several sunlit days Harry & Ginny. My teenage self literally squealed out loud.

22) Addie from Two Princesses of Bamarre. Remember that book? Yeah, me neither until I read this question. She was awesome, though.

23) Aragorn. Duh.

24) Captain Hook from Peter Pan. Read it if you haven't.

25) Hinny. I am trash for Hinny.

26) I'm lame and don't like those.

27) Gandalf coming back in LOTR? Lydia running away with Mr. Wickham? I dunno, I can't think of any surprising ones.

28) Healing power

29) Draco Malfoy, and then I'd give him a hug and blame his poor upbringing.

30) I didn't like Susan from the Narnia series much, but she grew on me as I got older. Or maybe Meg from Little Women. People always go for Jo, but Meg is strong in her own way, and I'm probably more like her.

31) I used to tolerate Snape, but every time I re-read the HP series I think of how creepy and awful he is. I cringe whenever I see an "Always" bumper sticker.

32) I don't cry while reading. I'm stone cold. Fred Weasley got me pretty good, though. Splitting up twins is cruel, JKR, but I like the hurt.

33) Pick a scene from Pride & Prejudice. Toss up between Darcy's failed proposal, anything with Mr. Collins, or the scene where Lizzy takes down Lady C. De Bourgh.

34) Childbirth scene in Breaking Dawn. I've given birth twice but 🤮🤮. No thanks.

35) Tess of the d'Urbervilles, literally the whole book made me sad.

36) Can't pick a favorite. Since I already mentioned my three go-tos, I'll toss in a different one: Dragonriders of Pern. Not the best literature, but it's a sizzling, classic fantasy.

37) The Foundation series. I should read more sci-fi.

38) I enjoyed Stardust by Gaiman. There are plenty better romances, but this is the most recent good one I've read. P&P, to me, is more satire than romance.

39) Wow, I don't think I've read any. Does Lord of the Flies count? That was a messed up book.

40) Things Fall Apart by Achebe. Not historical like castles and European renaissance, but amazing nonetheless.

41) Brave New World. Freaky stuff.

emoji book ask

1) 📚 approximately how many books have you read 

2) 📝 book that everyone has to read 

3) 📕 favourite first book in a series 

4) 📗 favourite second book in a series 

5) 📘 favourite third book in a series 

6) 📖 book you’ve read more than once and how many times 

7) 🛋 book that keep you up all night 

8) 🎁 book that was surprisingly good 

9) 😡 book you expected more of 

10) 💰 most expensive book you’ve bought 

11) 💩 the worst book you’ve read 

12) 🏆 the best book you’ve read 

13) 🎥 favourite book to movie/tv show adaptation 

14) 🎬 book you want to be a movie/tv show 

15)  🏝 summer book recommendation 

16) ⛄️ winter book recommendation 

17) 🌎 favourite fictional world 

18) 🐲 favourite book creature 

19) 👯 favourite female friendship 

20) 👯‍♂️ favourite male friendship 

21) 💋 favourite kiss 

22) 👸 favourite princess/queen 

23) 🤴 favourite prince/king 

24) 😈 favourite villain 

25) ❤️ favourite ship 

26) ⛵️ favourite crack ship 

27) 😱 best plot twist 

28) 🔮 power you’d like to have 

29) 🥊 character you’d punch in the face 

30) 😤 character you loved but now hate 

31) 😻 character you hated but now love 

32) 😭 death that made you cry the most 

33) 😂 the funniest scene 

34) 🤢 the grossest scene 

35) 💔 scene that broke your heart

36) 🏹 favourite fantasy book

37) 🚀 favourite sci fi book

38) 🌹 favourite romance book

39) 👻 favourite horror book

40) 🏰 favourite historical fiction book

41) 🔫 favourite dystopian book

[cauldronfulloflove]

I’ve been revisiting @lears‘s amazing HP stuff and it’s giving me some FEEEEELS so have some springtime dorks in love

[cauldronfulloflove]

Home

The sun was beating down on Harry’s head, a few beads of sweat clinging to his face. He was staring down the lawn at the large crowd of people in the clearing below, nervously pacing back and forth. Beside him, lounging under the shade of a small event tent, were Ron and George, dressed in navy dress robes and looking amused. Neville, similarly dressed, stood at the edge of the shade watching Harry pace the length of the tent. George and Neville had left the seating of the final guests to the other ushers to wait with Harry before the ceremony began.

Ron leapt up from his chair and walked over to Harry, swinging an arm over his shoulders. “Well, the day has finally come. If someone had told me 10 years ago that I would stand next to my best mate as he married my sister, I would have thought they were taking the mickey.” He purposefully turned Harry back towards the tent, as Neville handed Harry a pint of frosted butterbeer.

“11-year-old Ron would have punched me in the face,” Harry reminded him.

“Fair enough.”

“Ginny would have believed it,” George said, grinning. “I saw the wedding plans, mate. She’s had this whole thing planned out since she was 10. She had the drawings pinned to her wall all summer, and this is it-” he swept his arms toward the marquee and crowd of guests, “minus a few unicorns and rainbows.” Harry cracked a smile, wiping the sweat off his brow.

“Don’t let Ginny hear you say that,” Harry said. “For someone who wasn’t at all interested in wedding planning, she spent an awful lot of time arguing over decorations and food with your mum and Fleur.” The four of them laughed and took swigs of their butterbeer.

Ginny had defiantly stood her ground on her desire for a simple wedding, and insisted on breaking from tradition in several areas that made Mrs. Wesley frown. There had been a particularly memorable argument over the order of the bridal party walking down the aisle.

Ten minutes later, Neville spotted their cue: Bill Weasley was waving at them from the end of the first row as his wife came hurrying down the aisle, muttering last minute orders to the ushers on her way to her seat.  

“Shall we go, then?” George said, heaving himself to a stand. Harry nodded, and followed Neville and Ron down the short slope towards the back of the aisle. He nervously straightened his glasses and flattened his hair, which refused to stay smooth in the light breeze.

As they approached the aisle, Neville and Ron slowed to allow Harry to pass them. Both of them gave him a friendly tap on the shoulder before he walked resolutely down the path between the rows of chairs, trying his best to avoid the stares. The sound of harp music filled the air, but Harry’s hearing was drowned out by a muffled buzzing noise. He briefly, absurdly, considered the source of the noise as Wrackspurts, before deciding on the more likely cause of nerves. By this point he had made it past the majority of seats, and to his relief he saw only friendly, familiar faces in the front few rows, most of them sporting pale skin and freckles. Harry and Ron took their places at the front as Neville & George slid into the front aisle next to the other ushers.

The music changed, and the boyish face of Teddy appeared from around the tall hedge that separated the bridal party from the audience. He was given a slight nudge by a pale hand behind the hedge, and he perked up, tightened his grasp on the satin pillow in his hand, and practically jogged down the aisle to stand, beaming, next to Harry.

Harry ruffled his hair affectionately as Ron gingerly untied the rings from the pillow and carefully pocketed them. Teddy ran over to sit in George’s lap, his Grandmother in the aisle behind them.

Teddy’s appearance was followed shortly by a young Victoire, who came slowly down the aisle, her pale curls falling in her face as she methodically tossed flower petals every few feet, basket swinging from her arm. The crowd tittered at her slow and meticulous progress, and Harry saw Fleur beaming with joy out of the corner of his eye.

The bridesmaids followed each other, led off by Valmai Morgan, one of Ginny’s good friends and teammates from the Harpies. She was making eyes at George as she passed Harry to take her place in the front row opposite the ushers. Luna came next, dressed in the same pale pink dress worn by Valmai, wearing a serene smile as she waltzed to her spot. And finally Hermione, who beamed at Harry the whole way down the aisle and gave Ron a smile before turning to stand before her seat.

There was a pause in the music, and the musicians started playing the bridal processional. Harry gulped, and a sun glare hit him suddenly in the eye. By the time he had focused again, Ginny had appeared at the back of the aisle.

Really, he couldn’t have imagined anything better. Sudden warmth erupted in his chest, and a big grin spread on his face. Her dress was white and airy, her hair pulled back from her face with loose curls falling down over her shoulders. Her face was bright red from being in the spotlight, but she was smiling down the aisle at Harry as she tightly gripped Mr. Weasley’s arm. Slowly they walked down the aisle, Ginny grinning as she made eye contact with Harry.

They came to a pause at the front of the aisle, waiting for the music to finish. Mr. Weasley bounced nervously a few times, patting Ginny on the arm. Harry was keenly aware that he couldn't have stopped smiling even if he had wanted to. He had the sudden urge to grab her hands and get on to the next part of the ceremony, but managed to swallow the impulse as he impatiently listened to the final notes of the bridal march from the string ensemble.

Just as rehearsed, the officiant stepped up next to Harry, his voice rising into the air as he asked who was giving away the bride. Mr. Weasley responded with the traditional “her mother and I,” and passed Ginny’s free hand into Harry’s. Mrs. Weasley snuffled into her handkerchief from the front row, and Harry could hear a few other tearful noises join in chorus from the crowd. Hermione darted in to grab Ginny's bouquet, the two exchanging smiles. Ginny turned to face him, both hands in his now, and took a deep breath as she smiled at him.

If asked beforehand what he expected his wedding to be like, he would have shrugged and said “whatever Ginny wants.” Truthfully he had not put any thought into it. To him, the wedding seemed like such a trivial thing after all these years. He would have been perfectly pleased with a small ceremony on the beach of somewhere tropical, away from the eyes of hundreds of well-wishers. But now that they were here, in the moment, he beamed with excitement.

The rest of the ceremony was a blur. They made their vows, exchanged rings, and settled in to listen to the officiant's message. Harry vaguely heard phrases like 'love everlasting,’ 'life long commitment,’ and 'their love will endure all hardships.’ He swallowed tightly at that last one, fervently hoping that their hardest hardship was already over.

His mind had just started to wander towards how thirsty he was in the summer evening’s heat, wishing he could sweep Ginny off her feet and go grab another bottle of butter beer, when Ginny tugged his hand. She whispered “the knot tying thing!” with an amused look in her eye. Harry turned quickly toward the officiant, who was holding up two pieces of rope, telling the audience how the strands represented the bride and the groom. They tied the strands together as Fleur had shown them the evening before (“eet is so romantique!”), and it glowed with a spell that would ensure the knot, a symbol of their commitment, would not come undone.

A few moments later the officiant declared them man & wife and they kissed sweetly as confetti rained down from the arch of balloons, white flowers and golden tinkling bells above them. They marched happily back up the aisle together, making a beeline for the shade and spelled breezes of the reception tent, where a table was set up for them to sign the registrar.

Years later as they fondly looked back on the night, neither one could remember many details. There had been a lot of dancing, a lot of handshaking, and more than a few drunk relatives. Mr. Weasley was as red as a tomato from champagne and embarrassment as he read off a wonderful speech that made Ginny burst into tears before he was halfway through. Ron had the entire audience roaring in laughter by the end of his speech, thoroughly roasting Harry and ending with a congratulations on finally becoming a Weasley, asking how he felt about being married to a celebrity. Ginny jovially threatened to throw her shoe at him when he joked that Harry could have spared himself the trouble of getting stuck with Ginny for a lifetime just to marry into the family, as they would have been more than happy to adopt him instead.

They left the party at the end of the night on a broomstick streaming sparklers from its tail, their friends and family cheering them goodbye into the night air. As they stumbled across the threshold of their flat that night, exhausted and happy, kicking off their shoes & clothes as they went, Harry had the distinct, comforting feeling of being home.

[cauldronfulloflove]

Someday

The room was noisy, and memos zoomed to and fro over their heads. The clock on the far wall showed a hand that was inching ever slowly towards the seven. Several half-empty pizza boxes from a Muggle shop down the street were wafting smells from the conference room. Harry could hear Ron scratching away with his quill on the other side of the cubicle wall. Violet memos were jetting off at record speed from the cubicle across from him. He could hear Robard's booming orders from the office in the corner.

He stared back down at the pile of papers on his desk and sighed. Several hours of paperwork separated him from the door. Incident reports to write, patrol logs to update, witness accounts to review. There was no chance of making the match at this point, and he had resigned himself to another late night. At least he had told Ginny beforehand the odds were slim to none, so she wouldn’t be expecting to see him at the match. He jabbed his wand at the wireless, and the knobs whirred and spun until the needle hit 79.3. A man’s voice crackled through the speakers, announcing the Harpies/Wasps match was set to begin after a few short words from the sponsors. A catchy jingle for Drooble’s Best Chewing Gum hummed through the air.

Ron popped his head over the cubicle wall.

“Match start yet?”

“In a mo’…toss off is at 10 ‘til.” Ron’s head disappeared. A few more scratches of the quill, the sound of shuffling papers, and the squeak of a chair was followed by Ron’s appearance around the corner.

“Blimey, this is never ending. We should have been warned. We signed up to help catch bloody Death Eaters, not write ourselves into our graves. I’m no closer to finishing than I was an hour ago.” Ron looked gloomily at the clock. “And think, we could be out at the pitch enjoying the nice weather from the box office seats…drinking firewhisky and watching Ginny single-handedly slaughter each of the Wasps.”

It was Ginny’s first start, having only been bumped up on the roster after a teammate suffered a concussion from a cracked skull during the previous day’s practice.

Harry grimaced as he thought about Robard’s reaction if he showed up tomorrow without the finished write-up from the Ballycastle incident. Robards ran a tight ship, and had very strict expectations on deadlines and what happened to those who didn’t meet them. Harry was positive the full week of night shifts he would likely be assigned as standard retribution for unfinished work would make Ginny more miserable than him missing this game.

“Not worth it,” he said.

Ron scowled. “Well, I can’t leave this place soon enough. It was good experience, I’ll give you that, but I don’t think the thrill makes up for the mountains of paperwork we have to put up with afterwards. A few more weeks and I think I’ll have finally convinced George to take me on as a partner…” Ron trailed off.

He’d been talking about it for a few months now, but Harry still felt a little betrayed whenever the topic came up. He tried not to take it personally, but after nine years of Ron having his back, it was difficult to imagine not working with Ron. Not seeing him every day. Not having a friend to joke around with whenever the paperwork became too dull. Not hearing him complain about his job every five minutes…on second thought, he could live without that one.

“Hermione reckons I’m better suited to help George, anyway,” Ron added. “But I think she just wants me out of the Ministry so she doesn’t have to wait around for me to leave with her in the mornings.” He grinned and Harry laughed.

“Still though…it’s a bit of a risk taking up with George,” Ron continued. “It’s not like I could ever replace…well, my ideas aren’t half as good as Fred’s were, anyway.” He frowned.

“You were the one who gave George the idea for the ink-repellant quills.” Harry reminded him. “And those turned out to be a bestseller. George said it himself, he needs someone reliable to run the shop so he can focus on expanding the business.”

“Yeah,” Ron said more cheerfully.

The announcer on the radio began to enthusiastically endorse the Comet Broom Company, gold sponsor of this night's game.

“I wouldn't say no to better working hours,” Harry admitted. “I hardly see Ginny anymore, even when the team's in town. When was the last time we even made it home before supper?”

Ron snorted at the thought. “Try...never?”

“Not exactly conducive for a happy family life,” Harry sighed, scribbling his signature at the bottom of a piece of parchment before casually adding the sheet to the messy stack in his outbox. The outbox groaned in response. He started working his way through the next sheet in front of him, quickly scrawling notes along the empty lines of the form.

“Er- so you two have talked about that stuff?” Ron started, turning a light pink and looking down at a quill he was twirling between his fingers.

“Talked about what?”

“You know…the future. Family. Marriage and stuff.” Ron was getting redder by the second. There was a measured pause before Harry answered. Normally they avoided conversation having anything to do with this subject. Although Ron admittedly had finally come to terms with Harry’s relationship with his sister, he made it clear the less he knew the better.

“Er…Well, yeah. Yeah, it’s come up.” Harry admitted, inadvertently drawing his gaze to his top right desk drawer, where he had stashed a certain velvet ring box a few months back.

Ron fell silent, his face scrunched in thought.

“I mean, no time soon,” Harry hurried to add, looking back at the self-inking quill in his hand. “We reckon it’ll be a few years, Ginny wants to finish a few seasons first.”

Ron grunted, but didn’t say anything more. They listened quietly to an advert for the new Cleansweep 5000, guaranteed to match half the speed of a Firebolt for less than half the price. Harry aimed a questioning look at Ron.

“Well, it’s only we haven’t discussed it at all,” Ron confessed, still looking down at the quill. Harry thought about this as he read down the parchment with his finger. It wasn't strange, really. It was true that he and Ginny had spent quite a bit of time fervently talking about the future together, mostly while procrastinating over a pile of work or chores. From the day they got back together they had both felt confident about where they were headed, which, he reminded himself, probably wasn’t normal. Normal people took time to decide on things like love and marriage.

Even so, he felt that Ron had nothing to worry about. He highly doubted Hermione had any other sort of future planned out. Despite her initial uneasiness around babies, even Harry had noticed how fondly she hovered over the little ones at family gatherings, occasionally smiling at Ron from across the room. Harry was starting to become uncomfortably familiar with the “someday” look. Ginny would get the same distant gleam in her eyes as she bounced Teddy on her knee or rocked Victoire in her arms.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, mate,” Harry said firmly. “She’s said it for years now, she wants to focus on her career first. Freeing house elves and-er- increasing centaur representation. You know better than me how much she fancies a family.  And really, you knew what you were getting into when you two started this,” he added with a note of finality, unwilling to go deeper into the conversation.

Embarrassed, Ron nodded slowly. “Yeah…yeah, I know.”

“Just bring it up if it bothers you that much. Women love talking about those things. She’s probably just waiting for you to bring it up.”

Ron sputtered something about “doesn’t bother” and “no pressure.” Harry refrained from rolling his eyes as he glanced back down at the report he was working on. That was one of the many things he appreciated about his relationship with Ginny – he could rely on Ginny telling him when something was bothering her. Ginny would be hard-pressed to keep her feelings about anything a secret.

They both turned their attention to the radio, which had finally started the live broadcast of the match. Both of them grinned when they heard the announcer shout off  “Weasley” in the string of starting players. Ron flung himself into a spare chair, kicking his legs up onto desk as they settled in to listen to the game. If they were lucky, they'd get enough paperwork done during breaks in the programming to make it home before midnight...

[cauldronfulloflove]

I always wondered how this awfulness unfolded from Sirius' perspective, so I pieced together what I could from Hagrid's comments and the Remus/Sirius comments in POA, and wrote this.

Betrayal

“Peter?” His voice rang out into the dark, musty hallway. One hand was on the open door, the other holding his wand aloft, illuminating the peeling wallpaper on the bare walls in front of him. An empty silence echoed back at him.

Cold dread crept down into his stomach, his throat clenching with fear. Sirius took another step into the flat, letting the door swing close behind him.

“Peter, I swear to God, you better not be messing with me,” he growled into the silence. He swung his wand arm towards the nearest wall, and a shining blue thread of light appeared where his wand tip met the flaking wallpaper. The light thread stretched away from the wand, forming a long line that seemed to run the length of the wall before disappearing around the first corner. Within moments the light came streaking back down the hallway on the opposite wall, having run the perimeter of the flat to rejoin the wand.

So the security charm was still intact. No one had forced entry into this flat since he himself had cast the protective charms only a week ago. He strode hurriedly down the hallway, glancing quickly into each of the rooms. Everything was in order, with no sign of a struggle.  And yet Peter was gone.  

They had gone through this so carefully. Selected the house, cast the charms, agreed he was to remain inside no matter what, and send word to Sirius if anything was needed. For his safety. For the safety of Lily and James.

Sirius could feel his ears ringing. The growing suspicion born from months of stress and failed plans and death gnawed mercilessly at his gut.  Catches of past conversations flickered through his brain. “Death Eaters ambushed us, they knew our plans. Don’t know how, but they knew we would be there.” “How could he have known, Sirius? How did he know Harry was born in July?” “The McKinnons are dead. Dumbledore believes a traitor is among us.”

He turned towards the door, pounding the wall with his fist. Everything seemed so clear in retrospect. How could he have missed it? The quiet, nervous, sweating face of Peter Pettigrew filled his vision. He had written him off as too weak, too spineless. Too attached to James and himself. Pudgy, blubbering, agreeable Wormtail. He was their friend. Their brother. Despite his faults, they cared for him. Trusted him. When he ragged on himself, who brought him back to his feet? Who made him laugh? Who made sure he was never left behind, even when they so often moved faster than Peter could keep up?

This was supposed to have been a brilliant move. The perfect bluff. Everyone expected Sirius to be the Potters’ secret-keeper. Guilt flooded his mind as he remembered his reasoning for the switch. He couldn’t bear the thought of being cooped up in a safe house, not when there was so much fighting left to do. He would have died for James – but why be locked up when Peter was such an excellent alternative? Who would have guessed Peter? The weakest dueler, the most frightened when called up for a mission. Pulling him off fieldwork to protect his best mate seemed like the perfect scenario.

And James had agreed whole-heartedly. It was a brilliant plan, he had said. Wished he had thought of it himself. Only Lily had been hesitant. A small frown and a worried sigh. “It isn’t that I don’t trust him,” she had said anxiously, “but I’m worried it may be too much. He seems so nervous lately.” But they had all been more tired, more stressed. And in the end, she had no doubt that Wormtail would keep them safe. None of them did.

Sirius flung open the front door, and fled out into the night. Apparition would be faster…but he needed to clear his head. Despite the panic bubbling inside of him, he didn’t want to startle Lily and James with a sudden midnight appearance. He didn’t even know if his growing fears were true. He would take his motorbike to Godric’s Hollow, and if Peter wasn’t there simply making an unplanned visit, he would send a hasty note to headquarters and let James know the worst.

After all, it might be someone else in the Order, he thought to himself as he vaulted onto his bike and started up the engine. He urged the bike forward and accelerated quickly into the starry sky.

Just last week he had wrestled with the fear that Moony was the traitor. It had been weeks since they had heard from him, and startling accusations were starting to form among the Order. Remus had been privy to several of the key information leaks before leaving to spy among the werewolves, and there had been little useful information incoming from his undercover work. Sirius hadn’t brought these recent rumors up to James, knowing James’ fervent loyalty. But it had been hard for Sirius to ignore the whispers, and the seeds of doubt were planted deeper than he would have admitted. If Voldemort had come calling, was he really so sure that Moony would refuse to crack? After months of life among the lowest and cruelest company, living off rats and listening to the ceaseless blaming of wizards for their miserable lot in life…would he betray his friends, if the time came?

No…with the revelations of the last hour, Sirius felt sure the truth had been revealed at last. The traitor had never been Remus – it was Peter from the start. And as this conviction grew stronger, the fear and dread of what he might find at Godric’s Hollow became more urgent.

Just a few more minutes, almost there. Merlin, let me be wrong. Show me I have this all wrong. This can’t be it.

Faster he flew, passing over village after village. Lights twinkled up at him from light posts and frosted windows. So many families, fast asleep and blissfully unaware of any danger imposed by the war waging in the world hidden from them.

Guilt welled up inside of him, fighting for space among the fear and anger. This had been his idea. His bloody, stupid idea. He shouldn’t have let the safety of his best mate’s family fall on anyone else’s shoulders. James had come to him. Dumbledore had agreed. He had been the best choice. He would do anything to protect the Potters. And now he had failed them.

He began his swift descent towards Godric’s Hollow. Clouds had drifted across the moon, making it difficult to see what lay ahead of him. He thought he could make out tendrils of smoke – but no, those could easily be smoke from neighboring chimneys.

The motorbike touched down a few houses away, and sped across the pavement, around the curve that led to the Potters’ driveway.

His heart stopped. The top floor of the home had a large, gaping hole in it, as if something had blasted it away from the inside. Debris was scattered across the front lawn and a small fire had crept up the roof, emitting gray, smoky ash into the sky.

His worst fears were confirmed. The Potters had been betrayed.

Wand clenched tightly in his fist, he flew off the motorbike and headed towards the home. They can’t be dead. They can’t be dead. The blood had drained from his face, a hollow ringing in his ears deafened the surroundings into an unearthly silence.

A large figure came bursting out the front door and down the drive. Sirius had a half-formed spell on his lips before realizing with a jolt that he recognized the figure. It was Hagrid, and he was carrying something in his arms.

Oh no. Oh god, they can’t be dead.

“Hagrid!” he croaked. The figure jumped.

“Bloody ‘ell, Sirius. Ye gave me a fright.” The moon broke through the clouds, illuminating Hagrid. Tears streaked his bearded faced, and his voice cracked as he spoke.

No, no, no! This can’t be happening.

Pale faced, Sirius approached Hagrid and saw his godson in Hagrid’s arms.

“Harry – is he —“ He couldn’t finish, couldn’t think the words let alone say them out loud.

The baby stirred, letting out a small cry. Hagrid bent over the bundle, his whiskers quivering as he shushed the baby back to sleep.

“He’s alright now, isn’t he?” Hagrid grumbled softly. The momentary relief was immediately replaced by dread. There was only one reason Hagrid would be standing here with Harry in his arms. He turned towards the ruined house, ready to burst through the doors and find the worst.

Hagrid suddenly gripped his arm, stopping him from approaching the house. “Yeh shouldn’t go in ther’,” he said roughly. The look on his face told Sirius everything he needed to know. Lily and James were dead.

“NO!” It came out as a strangled cry. An unrivaled fire burst into his heart. He had never felt this angry before, nothing could match this: the years of manipulation and scorn at the hands of his family, the burning hatred he had for those power-hungry pureblood elitists, the anger he had felt as he watched the Order members dwindling, slowly being picked off by Death Eaters. Nothing could compare to this rage.

His best mates, dead. Killed by the worthless Peter Pettigrew, their friend.

The rat was going to pay for this. He was going to die a long, slow death for what he did.

“That fucking son-of-a-bitch!!” he snarled. Sparks flew from Sirius’ wand. His breathing was heavy, his mind racing.

Hagrid tightened his grip on Sirius’ arm.

“He’s gone. You-Know-Who is gone - dead I reckon,” Hagrid said slowly. “His spell agains’ the boy backfired, blew tha’ hole in the house.”

The baby began to fuss again, flailing among the blankets. The noise stopped Sirius, and with great effort he turned away from the smoking house, where his closest friends, more family to him than his family had ever been, lay dead.

“But – how?” Sirius said in a quiet fury, his eyes drawn to the fresh scar shining on his godson’s forehead. “How is that possible?”

Hagrid shook his head, incredulously. Something inside Sirius stirred. Lily and James were dead; but Harry was right here in front of him – alive, but helpless and alone. This was his responsibility, his last chance to get things right.

He reached out for the boy. “Give him to me, Hagrid. Please. I’m his godfather.”

Hagrid adjusted the blankets around Harry before saying gently, “I’m t’ take him away, Sirius. Dumbledore’s orders.” Sirius’ heart sank again. How much more frustration could he handle? The anger flared up inside him again.

“Where are you taking him?”

“He’s to live with his Aunt ‘n Uncle.”

He was Harry’s godfather. He should take Harry. But there was no use protesting, Sirius knew, not when Dumbledore was involved. Hagrid would never go against the Headmaster’s wishes. Lily and James dead, Harry being taken away.

Tears burned at the corner of his eyes. This was worse than his worst nightmare.

He felt Hagrid’s large hand grip him by the shoulder. “Lily an’ James – they died as heroes. No better people I’ve ever known.” Sirius nodded. They stood there in the silence of the night, in mutual grief, neither knowing what else to say.

Suddenly Sirius squared his shoulders and gritted his teeth. The fear, dread, and guilt had disappeared as quickly as it had come, replaced by a burning purpose. It had been a feeble chance, really. He was in no position to care for Harry, and he knew it. There was no place for a baby where he was going.

His path forward was clear: kill Peter Pettigrew.

[cauldronfulloflove]

sometimes i just get overwhelmed thinking about how unsafe hogwarts is like c’mon guys you have one school to manage in the whole of the UK and LOOK AT IT 

[cauldronfulloflove]

Dumbledore taking shots at Aberforth, like any decent brother would do.

[cauldronfulloflove]

It was amazing how many girls Hogwarts suddenly seemed to hold; he had never quite noticed that before. Girls giggling and whispering in the corridors, girls shrieking with laughter as boys passed them, girls excitedly comparing notes on what they were going to wear on Christmas night....

- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

[cauldronfulloflove]

The wise words of Albus Dumbledore.

[cauldronfulloflove]

[The Loyal Friend] : Ron Weasley / Sirius Black

“If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us too!” he said fiercely, though the effort of standing upright was draining him of still more color, and he swayed slightly as he spoke. Something flickered in Black’s shadowed eyes.

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

[cauldronfulloflove]

Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and took out his wand. “This is a useful little spell,” he told the class over his shoulder. “Please watch closely...."

[Professor R.J. Lupin, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban]

[cauldronfulloflove]

“What did you tell her Ron’s got?”

“A pygmy puff, but I didn’t say where.”