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Sirius and Peter's friendship

"Sirius Black couldn't stand being around Peter Pettigrew" Or at least that's what Peter thought at one point.

The truth was, Sirius had been Regulus's older brother, and even though he could have left home and left his little brother behind, that older brother instinct still ran through his veins.

Sirius believed that, by abandoning his brother, he would never have to look after or protect anyone again. He cared for his friends, obviously, but with James, they felt like equals, and with Remus, the feeling was far from brotherly.

On the other hand, there was Peter, little, nervous Peter. Being with him was like going back to his days at Black Manor; every fiber of his being guided him to act towards Peter the same way he acted towards Regulus, his younger brother, and it destroyed Sirius more and more, tormented him.

He loved Peter, but he didn't want to go back to that life, and that's why, once his relationship with Regulus broke down, Sirius wanted nothing to do with older brothers and instinctively distanced himself from Peter. Sirius could have explained this to his friend, but he never asked and never thought it necessary to do so.

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Believing in Humanity si like...

Believing in humanity is like believing that magic exists. In theory, there's no way to prove otherwise, but even so, there's a huge risk of being wrong. I trust people knowing I'm giving them a gun they can shoot me with at any moment. Sometimes they've done it, but I still do it anyway. It's almost ironic; I'm so sure they're going to betray me, which is why I choose to trust. And that's what it's all about in the end, isn't it? The hope that they won't hurt you.

They say trust is blind, but I don't see it that way. Trust has perfect vision, it's clear and precise in what it wants, it knows the risks, but it prefers to have faith. Just like when you believe in magic, I trust people.

What's the point of living in a world where the only reality is that people are harmful and selfish? We've come and achieved so much, human evolution, there must be something involved that differentiates us from animals.

We have compassion, empathy, emotions. They're somewhat weak, it's a fact. They disappear easily and break when things get difficult. But in the end, when it's all over, they come back to us. They live in our past and cling to us throughout our future.

The secret, the only way to maintain them, is memory. It's remembering and preserving. That's the energy source of our feelings, and that's one of the most undervalued but important things we have. It's what allows us to coexist and create bonds. And there's nothing more human than that.

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Those of us who are "nobody" in the world

I live experiences through others' perspectives; more specifically, I live experiences through lies, like books, movies, or songs.

Like a perfect fantasy world where I can also get hurt, but it never hurts as much as when it's real. I have no stories to tell, or romances to remember, or at least nothing that's mine. Everything I know was told and experienced by someone else, as if life were a movie theater and I were the only spectator sitting there.

Sometimes I wonder if I should do something to change, go out more, or take risks, but there's something deep inside me that pushes me away, keeps me locked in a small bubble where the world just goes around and around, and I'm limited to watching what others do.

I imagine a future where I get everything I want, but how feasible is that when I'm closer to being a shadow on the road than a real person. Sometimes I think I'll never be able to achieve anything more, but that's okay, because at least this way I can be sure that no one will break my heart, that they will never hurt me, because they don't even know me well enough to do that.

The protagonist always suffers, everyone knows it, it's what gives essence to his character, but sometimes, just sometimes, I envy that suffering, because it means he's someone, and for the moment, I am nobody.

I wonder if there are more people like me in the world, supporting characters who fill the space as they walk around the main characters. I wonder if I would even be able to see them or if we are all doomed to never know of each other's existence.

Statistically speaking, I can't be the only one going through this; there are millions of people in the world, and at least one of them should feel the same.

But there's also the possibility that that only person in the world is me, and that this is the life I'm meant to live. Simpler, but not happier.

If I were smart, or a super athlete, I might qualify for a promotion. But I hate sports and only earned a seven-point average in school, so there's not much hope for me in that area. Art might be my salvation, but we all have art within us; it's what makes us human. So all I can think about is that being one of the crowd isn't as bad as it seems. It's a bit boring and lonely, but at least I'm luckier than most people, and that's the only way I can sleep at night.

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Every night when I come home from work, I take a shortcut to get home faster. And every night when I take that shortcut, I come across this tree, with a two-lantern lantern in front of it.

Maybe it's not as noticeable in the video, but I can swear that when I see it, an old man's face forms, using the two lights as his eyes. Like an old, magical guardian. Protecting something.

And every night, I like to drive by that road and greet it as if it really exists and isn't just my imagination.

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Classmate's birthdays

The first year after high school, I still had my classmates' birthdays marked on my calendar. It wasn't on purpose. I didn't plan on greeting them when we weren't talking anymore, but I didn't delete them either. I let my phone send me a notification letting me know that someone I used to know was having a birthday that day.

Then they'd post a photo or upload an Instagram story, and in my head, all I could think was, "I knew it was your birthday. My phone told me."

They don't know about this, and I don't plan on telling them either, since there's nothing they can say back if they find out. But there's something, something about having known someone, about still having memories, that makes it feel like you've actually lived, like life isn't just about existing, that there are real things, like the birthdays of my old classmates.

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I accidentally ended up forgetting, sorry.

I was saving photos to my Pinterest boards when an image appeared that reminded me of Peter. As is my custom whenever I find something like this on Pinterest, I decided to save the photo to my board dedicated to the Marauders.

The thing is, within my Marauders board, I have subboards to separate the photos of each one (Sirius, James, and Remus), but then, as I was about to finish my goal, I realized I don't have a subboard dedicated to Peter. In fact, I have a subboard for almost all the characters from the Marauder era (Lily, Marlene, Mary, and even Regulus), but not for Peter.

And I thought, "It's so easy for us to ignore things, but we hate it when we're ignored," and I just found it interesting, so I decided to upload it here with no other purpose than to tell it. Sorry, Peter Pettigrew, I promise to create your own subboard.

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I want to be a witch and cast magic spells under the light of the full moon. I want to live in a house full of plants and flowers with crystal pendants in the windows that warn me when storms are about to arrive. I want to have a cat or a crow, or both, to keep me company in the evenings. I want to live quietly and peacefully, selling healing potions to the townspeople to support myself, and for everyone to know me as the healer witch. I just want magic, to feel special, to be happy. But instead, I'm living in a world where magic is only found in fiction and there are no magic potions that solve our lives.

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James: So I was thinking that to win the cup this year we can... Oh please, you're doing it again.

Sirius: ...

James: Stop doing that!

Sirius: Doing what?

James: That thing you do every time he walks into the room, you stop listening and go into autopilot.

Sirius: It's just... it's there.

James: I understand, but I swear if you don't do something to move forward with this whole situation, I'm going to go in person and confess your feelings to him.

Sirius: ...

James: Are you listening?

Sirius:...

James: FOR GOD'S SAKE you're doing it again.

Sirius: Doing what?

James: Good heavens, I don't have enough energy to do this today. I'm going to sleep.

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I read a Wolfstar fanfic that I stopped liking halfway through and now I feel like a fairy has died inside me.

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God came down and said:

i can be tricked into so many things but i could never be tricked into believing wolfstar would ever cheat on each other. this is the propaganda i’m not falling for. nuh uh. these two could get stuck in a room with one thousand people and still would have eyes on each other because they’re literally carved into each other’s bones. maybe some people don’t understand the level of their love for each other but they serve soulmating the way sirius serves cunt with his outfits & personality and the way remus serves cunt with his wit & nerdy ass statements. that’s the standard. thanks

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“Not everyone ships wolfstar.”

Okay? not everyone has taste either.

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i wish you guys could read the amazing fic i haven't written and probably will never write, it's fire

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You didn't dare

To say it to my face

Or send me a text

Maybe you were afraid

Or maybe you're a liar

That should be set on fire

What a shame

You just had to send me a text

Be honest

This isn't a contest

You don't have to pretend

That you're not a jerk

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So, Walburga knew from the very beginning that her firstborn had struck up a friendship with none other than a Potter. Apparently, breaking a centuries-old tradition of Slytherin ancestors wasn't enough for her son Sirius. But even so, when she decided to send him hundreds of letters expressing her anger and disappointment, and then when classes ended and it was time for Sirius to return home, she chose not to bring up the subject. Not only did she not want to, but she couldn't.

Looking her son in the eye and scolding him for hanging around with a Potter was much harder than scolding him for anything else. She herself had fallen for that family's charms at one point, and her son, being so much like her, clearly couldn't escape that fate.

So no, she didn't blame Sirius for his friendship with the boy James, she just hoped, deep down (and secretly), that he had a better relationship than the one she had at the time. Even when it meant going against the family's ideals, Walburga wouldn't blame Sirius, at least not for that, maybe for other things.

And so the years go by, her son's friendship with the Potter boy growing, Walburga can see it, like an invisible thread that grows ever tighter, uniting their lives until they can't be separated from each other.

She would be lying if she said she didn't start to worry; she feared her son would become an Icarus, flying so close to the sun until he burned and fell.

But that day arrived, an inevitable breaking point, and Walburga was left without the possibility of preventing that friendship from growing. Sirius went to live with the Potters, practically taking their last name. Like a curse, Walburga feared the worst.

She knew that the better things were, the worse they would end, and clearly she wasn't wrong.

The news was everywhere. "Sirius Black guilty of the murder of Lily Evans and James Potter." Walburga knew it was a lie; the man in the photo wasn't her son, but even before that, he wasn't either. So no one would believe her if she told them that the union between a Black and a Potter was doomed to a tragic fate, but that neither side would be guilty, and that Sirius was surely framed for a crime he didn't commit.

After all, Sirius renounced his blood family years ago, and there was no way the word of a mother who wasn't capable of caring for her son would be heeded.

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Sometimes I struggle to understand how the concept of friendship is so difficult to maintain in real life. It's so easy to read about groups of friends in fiction, acting like a family, being genuine with each other, that as soon as I finish a chapter and return to the real world, I'm overwhelmed by the knowledge that people nowadays tend to be so hostile toward one another.

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I just imagine Sirius and James, being raised in wealthy, pure-blood families, in a world where werewolves are considered threats, dangers that must be monitored by the law, meeting a young, introverted, and quiet Remus Lupin and thinking, "How can this person possibly do any harm?" I mean, he's their friend, he studies with them, it's just ridiculous to believe he could ever be classified as a dark creature. And then discovering the backstory of that, how every full moon their friend suffers, being alone and growing a sense of self-rejection, and thinking, "It's not fair that he's alone," "How come no one thought of fixing this?" And then, with the sole goal of being good friends, they stand by him, find a way, take risks, and show how much they care and accept Remus. Because Sirius and James might have been many things, spoiled, wealthy, and rowdy boys, but at the end of the day they were just that, boys, whose only goal was to have fun, and if a friend couldn't have as much fun as them, then they'd find a way to make him or her do it.