sirivsblvckiii-blog

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// Hello, lovelies! I always hate posting things like this, but I'm going to be dropping Sirius and exiting the group. Some things have come up lately, and I don't think I'll have adequate time to dedicate to him and the group. But I'm hoping when things calm down and life is a little easier that I'll be able to join you all again. You're all wonderfully talented and creative writers! I wish you all the best, and feel free to find me on my personal (winter--padfoot) or discord (danioftheadams). Best of luck to you all! <3

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Remus:

Hungry. That’s all that was running through Remus’s head at the moment. He had worked through lunch break in hopes of getting ahead of his work before the full moon came along. While he did get a good amount of work done he was feeling the effects of missing lunch and working through dinner. 

A normal person would go home to their flat and cook something up even if it was past dinner hour but Remus’s flat was barren. It wasn’t like he could blame just James for the state of their flat, Remus was a pretty bad influencer himself. The two often just ordered in food not wanting to be bothered by cooking. The little food they did have however was all sugar. Remus had quite the obsession with anything sweet so whenever he did the grocery shopping it never ended up being anything but sweets.

 That’s why Remus supposed his subconscious brought him right to a different flat. Humming slightly he pushed his spare key into the door and unlocking it. As he entered the flat a warm sense of home came over him. The flat belonged to Sirius and it was the opposite exact opposite of the flat that Remus shared with James. While the flat that he owned was a terribly ugly combination of his and James’s personality, Sirius’s screamed…. well Sirius. Every inch of the house felt warm and welcoming to Remus and he never once felt out of place stepping into this home. 

A slight grin settled on his features as he dumped his satchel onto a counter. 

“Don’t be alarmed. I’m only here to steal your food.” He called into the room, having no idea if Sirius would be home or not. He headed deeper into the kitchen opening cabinets to rummage through the other’s things. There were hardly any boundaries between the boys at this point in their relationship. They had seen each other at their lowest points and their highest points, so there wasn’t much that surprised Remus about any of his friends anymore.

With a few packets of crisps in hand, the slender man hopped up onto the counter and settled there. The bag of junk food wasn’t much better than what he had at his own place but it was better than eating chocolate cake for dinner, he supposed. As he opened the first packet up, Remus wondered if Sirius was home at all. Perhaps Sirius was working late just like Remus had or may gone out to drinks with friends.

A slight twinge of jealousy curled into his stomach at that thought. He pushed it away. A sick hope often clouded Remus’s mind that the Marauders would move on from Remus. He knew those boys could do so much more in their life than have to care for a werewolf. Each man had a tinkle in his eye of a promising future and all Remus did was hold them back from that. After graduating Hogwarts the man had attempted to withdraw himself from his friends, knowing that they needed to move on from him. That choice hadn’t come without consequences. The first few full moons that he had alone were some of the worst of his entire life. Remus has ripped away the one thing that kept the wolf happy and calm. He had taken away the one good thing that he had ever known. And as much as Remus tried to push the boys away they still welcomed him home with hope arms. So he had given up on trying to push them away knowing it was no use but part of him still hoped they grow out of him. Remus wanted nothing more than to see his best friends flourish. 

That didn’t always stop the jealousy though. Most of the time it was jealously of the others the boys were with, he wished he could like them. He wanted to be free of his afflictions and be able to enjoy life like they could and not drag his friends down with him. However sometimes when it came to Sirius, his jealousy reared its ugly head in a different way. It wasn’t something Remus liked to dwell on often, but the slender man had more of a possessiveness over Sirius. He liked to act as if it was the wolf being possessive over Padfoot, but he knew that wasn’t fully true. But right now, sitting in Sirius’s flat when Sirius could easily be home was not the time to start thinking about his jumbled up feelings for his best friend. 

@sirivsblvckiii

There was something about the crisp wintry air that had been calling to Sirius as he’d sat before a towering stack of paperwork, quill methodically scratching across each page, wholly disinterested in the task at hand. Busywork. Bloody boring busywork for a bloody boring day. All he wanted was to be out; somewhere - anywhere - would suffice. But the dwindling hours of daylight had crept away from him before he’d the chance to escape the dreadfully dreary Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

When he was finally - finally - free, he had greeted the clouded night sky with eyes closed and head tipped back, a static sort of energy coursing through his veins. He wanted to do something, to go somewhere - needed to.

So, naturally, he’d found himself with a leg swung over the smooth leather seat of his motorbike, energy vibrating within, as he took to the sky, the heavy metal beauty roaring beneath him. He welcomed the bite of winter’s breath against his cheeks, the rough caress that combed through his hair. London faded beneath him - the disappearances, the deaths, the uncertainty, the war falling away with it. It was easy, he thought, to lose sight of the state of the world when he was soaring, untouched and unbothered by it all. It was unimportant until his feet again touched the ground. No matter how badly he wished it, though, he couldn’t fulfill a destiny as his namesake and remain in the sky forever.

Besides, he was hungry.

Too soon he found himself parking his bike outside the slightly too derelict Muggle building in which he lived.  He’d been able to purchase his flat straight out of school with the money he had inherited from his Uncle Alphard - a final Fuck you! to his mother, he was sure. It was small and unkempt, clothes tossed aside here and there, clutter and empty bottles claiming plots of floor and counter space. The wallpaper was peeling in several spots, the Muggle appliances were old and faulty, and Sirius couldn’t recall ever using a dusting spell, or what have you. But - besides his beloved bike - his flat was the best thing he owned. It was home.

Sirius unlocked and pushed open the front door, fingers combing through tangles in his windswept hair. He paused - only slightly - at the figure in his kitchen, but any hint of hesitation or caution evaporated upon recognizing one of his best mates.

“Moony!” Sirius greeted, loud and happy. His arms flew open as he crossed into the kitchen, a bright, genuine smile taking hold of his lips. There were few things better than visits with James, Remus, or Peter. It had been a fear - insecurity, perhaps, if he was subject to those - that, upon leaving Hogwarts the four of them wouldn’t be nearly as close, if at all. He supposed (probably not quite actually) he’d had late night thoughts of the other three realizing he was far too much like his family, far too much a Black for their liking, after all. It was possible, not being around one another all day every day, that they might decide they quite liked it better that way. But no such thing had happened.

Only a few large strides brought Sirius to standing before where Remus was seated on the counter. His arms wrapped tightly around Remus in a warm, familiar hug. “S’good to see you, mate. It’s been too long,” he teased, chuckling as he let go, arms dropping to his side. It was hard, still, not spending every spare minute with his mates. Life had settled into spending every other spare minute or two with them, instead. Not ideal, but Sirius held tightly onto it, nonetheless.

“I’ve got more than crisps, you know. If you’re hungry,” Sirius smirked, eyeing the packages Remus had claimed as his own. His home was Remus’ - and James and Peter’s. But there was a certain corner of his being designated solely to the care and keeping of one Remus J. Lupin. A canine instinct or pack mentality, maybe. Or something else, but Sirius never dwelled on it too long.

“Like- Oh! Remus! Have you heard of ‘hot dogs’ before? It’s a Muggle thing - you know Muggle things - and you can put ‘em in the microwave, and they’re fucking delicious. I hear they’re big in the States. Want it for dinner?”

the munchies || remus&sirius

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Marlene:

“What are you going to do after this is over?” No one liked to talk about that, it seemed. Everyone was so busy focusing on the war and keeping their friends and loved ones safe that she seldom heard of plans after the war. Truth be told, Marlene didn’t even know what she was going to do. She had friends, sure. She could always go back to being the bright and bubbly social butterfly, attending parties and stealing the spotlight. However, that lost it’s appeal. She was single - there was no upcoming marriage, and she had no children, so there was no little ones she could go home to and devote her days to, telling stories of her days at Hogwarts and stories of friends. Even though that all upset her, it didn’t hurt her too much. Better things would come soon, she knew they would. After the War, the possibilities were endless. She could become whatever her little heart desired. She figured that maybe hearing someone else’s plan would give her ideas. That’s what she thought, though.

She was quiet for a minute, letting her thoughts consume her. Fingers idly messed with the card that came with her chocolate frog, watching the smiling face beam up at her as she read and reread the brief summary on them. “Do you think we’ll be on one of these?” she asked, her face lighting up. Marlene could only imagine all the bright, important things that could be done. Maybe they would all be war heroes. Maybe, just maybe, Marlene could get away with becoming a famous Quidditch player and be on the card. “I can see it now: Marlene McKinnon: the second infamous redhead at Hogwarts, known for being a badass and captain of the amazing hair club.”

Just like that, her little defeated mood was gone. Sure, the future was something scary to think of. Death literally lingered around the corner. When would she die? In her sleep, or seventy years later? It was all a mystery to her - it was a mystery to everyone. People didn’t come with expiration dates. No one ever knew when their time would come, but Marlene was determined to not die young. There was a million things she hadn’t done, but she would. She’d fight in the war. They would win and she, along with everyone fighting on the right side of it all, would be legends. Everything would be okay, she knew it would. She could feel it.

Sirius had never considered himself to be someone to look ahead or plan for the future. He didn’t bother thinking about tomorrow while there was still time left to be spent today. Now was where he lived, thoughts and decisions made to benefit the present. It was a fault, perhaps, to those on the outside, those affected; but it was what Sirius knew, how he made it through each day and the following. Live for now, and fuck the rest.

At some point, however, those he had grown up with had started looking forward, living for tomorrow and the weeks, years to come. It had been a slow change until, quite suddenly, everyone was focused on what was next. Planning, he supposed, was (almost) needed in the current environment, but Sirius had done just fine without any sort of forethought.

Sirius’ brows tugged together at Marlene’s question, lips pursed in a slight frown. It was a light inquiry, though it carried in its undertones the burden of the war, of the outcome - their futures - depending entirely on their current actions. It would be far too much for Sirius to sit on, to mull through until the thought entirely consumed him, dragging him down to that dark place he loathed. So, he shrugged, brushing off the question with a cool, “Probably what I do now, except I’ll be a hero of sorts.”

The idea wasn’t unattractive to him, naturally. He wanted to make a name for himself, to free himself from the shackles of the name Black and forge his own way. He wanted the world to remember his name, bereft of any connection to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. As far as the future was concerned, that wouldn’t be too bad.

Sirius glanced down at the card Marlene was holding, an effortless grin sidling onto his lips. “Course! We’ll be bloody heroes or something. Or, I will be, at least,” he said, an ease and familiarity settling over him. He flashed his eyebrows at Marlene and ran slender fingers through his hair. “Although, y’know, I’m the captain of the club. But you can be co-captain, I suppose. For a price.” Bravado and childish ribbing coated his words - and maybe the war wasn’t too terrible, and maybe they were sixteen and badgering one another on the banks of the Black Lake, pestering and jabbing until, inevitably, someone took it too far.

Sirius’ grin only grew brighter, eyes locked onto her’s. “So I guess you’ll just have to be second-best at everything you’re known for. Sorry, McKinnon. Not all of us can be brilliant, spectacular, legendary war heroes.”

we will be legends | open

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“You don’t understand — there are things worth dying for!”

The Sirius Black aesthetic. 

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Amelia:

Sirius Black was something of a mystery to Amelia. Where she and Edgar and their parents had been tight knit and trusting, he stood apart from his family. Where she had worked hard to please her parents, it was no secret that Sirius shunned his family’s values. She didn’t fault him for it, of course, the Blacks were some of the more… bigoted of the pureblood families. She just couldn’t imagine it; she only knew that growing up that way had to have been lonely.

Edgar, she knew, liked Sirius well enough, and that coupled with her vague awareness of his background had essentially resulted in her being fond of him as well. At work, Sirius and James Potter were lighthearted, occasionally bordering on silly, but they got their work done. For the relatively rule-abiding Amelia, however, sometimes it got to be a bit much.

She raised an eyebrow at his informal greeting, but as they were not in a work environment, allowed it to pass without comment. Amelia looked at the cigarette with distaste. “No thanks, Black,” she said. “I do work a good bit,” she mused with a smile.

“Suit yourself,” Sirius shrugged and withdrew his offer, lips circling around the end of the cigarette with a deep inhale. It was a bit odd, he supposed, to be interacting with the woman outside of work, purely by happenstance. All he knew of her and her person he’d learned within the confines of the Ministry and things he’d heard from others. Sirius, however, had made an art of knowing someone without knowing them; casual friendships and relationships the product of years of carefully crafted socializations.

“You do,” he agreed with another slight shrug, eyes scanning the street - just in case. “Do you ever do anything else? ‘Cos I’m not sure you do.” There was an amused smirk toying at the edge of his mouth as he met her gaze - almost a silent challenge to prove him wrong. He knew her type - of course he did - and, quite suddenly, he found himself intrigued by the possibility, the opportunity to prove what he knew to be correct. Amelia was respected, yes, but work was all she was made of - Sirius was sure.

He raised his brows, eyes not moving from hers, amusement painted over his features.. “I’ve gotta wonder, Bones, do you really know what ‘fun’ is?”

days get heavy  | s.&open

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harry potter aesthetics [marauders era]

     ↳ sirius black 

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Happy Thoughts for a Bad Night

McGonagall comforting all of the little first years when they have had a nightmare, assuring them that even brave lions depend on the pride for strength. 

Sirius Black was one of these scared little lions after he was sorted into Gryffindor 

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James:

“If you say so, Padfoot.” James faintly shook his head, still grinning. He had no plans to get used to anything of the sort. But he was hardly about to chastise Sirius for it. After all, he couldn’t very well deny the fact that his friend cut an impressive figure, leant up against the side of a building, blowing out an even stream of smoke. It was the sort of picture a teenage girl ought to have hung up in her bedroom so she could study the line of Sirius’s jaw and get lost in his eyes. 

There was a sort of ease that came with being around Sirius that James rarely felt with anyone else, just a bit different than the sort of comfort Remus and Peter could provide. Having him close eased the perpetual need to move. James didn’t so much as bounce his leg as he shot Sirius an exaggerated glower that dissolved in less than an instant, back to his usual grin. “Oi, there’s nothing wrong with my old Cleensweep. I reckon it’s still better than half the rubbish they’re selling now.”

Falling into chatter was simple with Sirius. It was always auror business that and ‘did you hear about the last attack’ with anyone else. And James knew it was all important, really knew. That didn’t make it any more pleasant to talk about. With Sirius at least, there was still a spot of brightness.

He took the cigarette back, one eyebrow arching as he brought it to his lips again. “Didn’t have anything in particular to do, no. I was just going to head down to the pub, see if anyone wanted to buy me a drink. Why? You got something in mind?” he asks, already feeling his grin growing wider.

Really, they probably shouldn’t get up to any trouble. That wouldn’t look good with the Order… or the Ministry. But that would only be a problem if they got caught.

The world was different, now. Fear ruled actions - oppressive and heavy. Hardly a day passed without news of another attack, more deaths - innocent bystanders lost in a war they never wanted to fight. A suffocating dark cloud seemed to hang over the streets of London, a sword of Damocles threatening to drop at any moment. fear was the new normal, suspicion the default until they knew just who hid behind the masks.

But conversation with James came more naturally than each breath he took. Sirius tossed his head back with a short bark of laughter, warmth and ease radiating from the man beside him. “Y’reckon? ‘Cos they’ve got that new Nimbus. Hate to break it to you, but it makes your Cleensweep look like shite, mate.” A toothy grin, a soft chuckle, fingers tucking his hair back behind an ear.

In this they were young and unconcerned, unburdened by war, death. In THIS, Sirius was seventeen and careless, sneaking out beneath James’ cloak to the Quidditch Pitch, contraband Firewhiskey in tow. They were kids and they needn’t worry about much besides an essay for Charms none of them had yet started. Sirius craved the comfort and ease that had been the norm at Hogwarts, and he found it in James’ company.

“You could always buy me a drink,” Sirius suggested, gaze flitting to the cigarette between James’ lips. “Or-” he snatched it back, a smirk stretching across his face, “what d’you say we grab a few shots of Firewhiskey, head to some Muggle bar, hustle the shit outta them?” The day was young, they were young, and Sirius would be damned if he left a perfectly nice day go to waste. Who was there to stop them?

Sirius took one last pull of the cigarette before he tossed it to the ground, standing straight to crush it beneath the heavy leather of his combat boot. “You in, Prongs?”

days get heavy  | s.&open

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McGonagall: I assume you realize this kind of idiocy will not be tolerated in my classroom.

Sirius: Is there another type of idiocy you would be more comfortable with?

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Andromeda:

Under the Table :: Open 

With a flick of her quill and a sigh, Andromeda sat back in her chair. The street lights had flickered silently and magically to light hours ago, and yet she still sat behind the large oaken desk, quietly working. The chill that hovered in the air had begun to soak through the old glass window pains, and now it saturated the air with a cold that couldn’t quite be escaped. It didn’t seem to bother the young witch, but a creature with ice in their bones was hard to freeze. 

Ensuring that the ink was dry, she flipped the book closed and stowed it neatly away in a locked drawer. Soft lamp light filled the small space, its furnishings antique and rather aged. Serving as both an office space and place for quiet meetings, the Black’s kept their business both discreet and organized. Not many people ventured into the quiet and rather foreboding space, and it was certainly preferred that way. 

Standing and stretching an aching back, Andromeda flicked her wand lightly in the direction of the curtains, so that they pulled themselves closed in one swift motion. Already floating in her mind were quiet visions of the warm dinner and cup of tea that the house elves would have waiting for her at home. 

The harsh crack of a heavy iron knocker falling against the oaken door startled her from her pleasant thoughts. Brow furrowing, Andromeda mentally racked her brain, no official appointments coming to mind. Tucking her wand into her carefully coiffed bun, she called out, “Enter!” Her voice bidding the enchanted door to gently swing inwards. 

London had finally succumbed to winter’s relentless chill, and with it the creeping darkness that shortened every day. He supposed it was natural to wake feeling on edge, knowing the end of daylight to arrive sooner than it had the day before, but Sirius still cursed the chilled air and darkening sky when he finally stepped foot outside his small flat - having slept far too long after being up half the night. He’d found company in the bottom of his last bottle of Firewhiskey, and welcomed it graciously, with open arms into his home.

His mission, tonight, had been to retrieve more Firewhiskey and - perhaps - a few Muggle favorites, but his steps had halted in the liquor store, eyes scanning over a bottle of wine and thoughts immediately jumping to Andromeda.

The exchange of currency for goods was quick, few words spoken, and Sirius was out the door, tugging his jacket tighter around himself before turning on the spot. The soft pop of his Apparation was the only noise on the otherwise quiet Wizarding street, the snow settling with a hush over the cobbled stone pathway. Sirius’ shoulders tensed, rose in a vain attempt to ward off the chill nipping at his skin through his thin leather jacket. Briefly, he cursed his fashion sense and lack of warmer coat, but it was quickly rescinded. Sure steps marched to the building, fist firm as he rapped at the knocker, shoulders square as he was beckoned to enter.

A lop-sided grin settled over his lips as his eyes fell upon his favorite cousin, Andromeda. “Andromeda!” he greeted, arms wide, bottle in hand, crossing the room to her. “It’s been too long.” Andromeda supported him, loved him when all others had disowned him, and Sirius could never thank her enough. But their family disagreed - values converse - and, as such, their time together was limited. Sirius offered out the bottle of wine with a small nod and a quirk of his brows. “Cheval blanc, ‘52. You’re welcome.”

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     Well you gotta understand We only do these things because all we are is              & – Bad kids

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hp aesthetics / queer sirius

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Amelia:

Amelia had not intended to spend all morning at Gringotts, but she was fairly certain every wizard in London had decided to visit their vault that day. The rest of Diagon Alley was certainly no indication of the bank’s activity, that was for sure. The street was fairly clear, though a few seemed to be out shopping.

She walked up the street, considering her options. She could head straight back home and make something, or head to the Leaky Cauldron and grab a bite and avoid cooking. Amelia had just decided to stop in and grab a pasty to take with her when she looked up to see two children running right for her. They swerved at the last second and she gave their mother a kind smile as she apologized over and over again. 

Most wizards who knew who Amelia was considered her to be stern and unyielding, but the ones that took the time to get to know her understood that she was just prepared to do what was necessary. The sight of the mother frantically chasing her children down the street hit a soft spot that few people besides Edgar really knew existed. She remembered with a pang that her mother wouldn’t have tolerated that sort of silliness, and swallowed over the lump in her throat. It had been years, but some days she still struggled. 

She cleared her throat, mostly for her own benefit, and turned to keep walking, but the voice from her other side surprised her. Turning, she raised her eyebrows at his indifferent greeting, trying to decide if she was more amused than irritated. Technically, she outranked him, but they weren’t at work. She settled on crossing her arms and matching Sirius’s tone.

“Not particularly, no.” she said, “though that does seem like a good way to pick a fight these days.”

Of anyone who could have approached him, Sirius hadn’t necessarily expected Amelia Bones to be standing before him when he looked up. He had known of the Bones family from the moment his young mind had been able to retain such information - knowledge of other Pureblood families being a core curriculum in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. He had known of the Bones siblings, had been directed to embody the way in which Pureblood values resonated within them, how they presented themselves to the world. It had been up to him - and Regulus - to rival the Bones family as one of the most powerful wizarding families.

Thus, Sirius had unfairly judged her upon their first meeting, recalling only the name Bones and what it had meant to him in his childhood. But Edgar was different, and Moody trusted them both, and Sirius had, begrudgingly, followed suit - though he had, at first, been loathe to do so. But working beneath her had afforded him some amount of respect for the woman, despite her surname.

Sirius shifted, uncrossing an arm to tuck into the pocket of his jacket, his cigarette again coming up to his mouth for a quick draw. His features relaxed, settling into a small, easy smile, and he gave a casual half shrug. “I wouldn’t mind. It’s been a dreadfully dull day,” he sighed, effortless humor woven between his consonants. Chasing down dead ends and forcing conversation with one useless wanker after another hadn’t been the way he’d wanted to spend his day “off,” but it’d been deemed an important matter for the Order. Sirius thought that was a load of shit.

“You out here on fancy Ministry business, Bones? You know, it’s okay to take a day off every now and then,” he teased, offering his cigarette to Amelia.

days get heavy  | s.&open

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Alecto:

Some people enjoyed this time of the year, they were swept away in the joy of Christmas, they delighted in buying presents for their nearest and dearest, thinking up the things that they might want most in the world. They dreamt about how their faces might light up upon seeing them, not Alecto though. She simply didn’t care. Her family getting together for the holidays wasn’t a celebration of love or an event to pass around carefully thought out gifts, instead it was a time to pool information. See what each member had that might help ‘the cause’ before starting to scheme new things to please the one they followed so faithfully. 

Of course they did give some gifts, in fact the tall woman with glossy dark hair had already made a visit to Knockturn Alley in order to purchase what she wished to give her parents, as well as Amycus of course. They were now held in a brown package under her arm, cloaked quite literally in her cloak in order to be hidden from the throngs of passers by so they wouldn’t get a peep of the Cobb and Web’s merchandise. 

That was when the Black brother caught her eye, just out of the corner, but he was distinct looking enough to register instantly. Smoke curling up around his face in a haze of soft purple, features set in an unapproachable fashion but that had never stopped her from going up to him before so it wasn’t about to now. Leaving dainty footprints in the crisp white snow she crunched her way over to him, taking the cigarette from his very fingers to place between her own lips. A muggle contraption sure, but it wasn’t hers it was his, so the act of taking it overruled the annoyance that it was made by a filthy none magic human. “You need a good bath, you’ve got about three weeks of grease building up on that hair of yours. With three sisters you’d think you’d have gotten a grip of basic hygiene. I’ve told you before you don’t have to do that to keep people away, your personality will do that just as well. 

There​ ​were​ ​few​ ​people​ ​that​ ​could​ ​have​ ​approached​ ​Sirius​ ​and​ ​be​ ​met,​ ​today,​ ​with​ ​a​ ​grin​ ​and haughty​ ​laughter,​ ​a​ ​cheerfully​ ​slung​ ​arm​ ​around​ ​shoulders​ ​and​ ​an​ ​invitation​ ​to​ ​join​ ​him​ ​at​ ​the Leaky​ ​Cauldron.​ ​The​ ​mission​ ​that​ ​had​ ​been​ ​occupying​ ​his​ ​afternoon​ ​had​ ​been​ ​for​ ​naught; another​ ​dead​ ​end​ ​in​ ​the​ ​the​ ​search​ ​for​ ​useful​ ​information​ ​about​ ​the​ ​potential​ ​identities​ ​of masked​ ​Death​ ​Eaters.​ ​No​ ​matter​ ​how​ ​many​ ​trails​ ​he​ ​followed,​ ​how​ ​many​ ​leads​ ​he​ ​investigated, he​ ​always​ ​came​ ​up​ ​empty-handed.​ ​It​ ​was​ ​more​ ​than​ ​enough​ ​to​ ​put​ ​a​ ​foul​ ​taste​ ​in​ ​his​ ​mouth​ ​and a​ ​frown​ ​nestled​ ​over​ ​his​ ​lips,​ ​without​ ​even​ ​thinking​ ​of​ ​having​ ​to​ ​report​ ​back​ ​to​ ​Moody​ ​with​ ​his lack​ ​of​ ​information. 

So​ ​when​ ​his​ ​cigarette​ ​was​ ​plucked​ ​from​ ​his​ ​grasp​ ​and​ ​the​ ​cool​ ​voice​ ​reached​ ​his​ ​ears,​ ​Sirius turned​ ​with​ ​a​ ​scoff,​ ​jaw​ ​sharp​ ​and​ ​eyes​ ​narrowed.​ ​It​ ​may​ ​have​ ​been​ ​a​ ​while​ ​since​ ​he’d​ ​even seen​ ​the​ ​woman​ ​before​ ​him,​ ​but​ ​he​ ​would​ ​recognize​ ​her​ ​angular​ ​face,​ ​her​ ​dark​ ​hair,​ ​the​ ​way​ ​in which​ ​she​ ​carried​ ​herself​ ​anywhere:​ ​Alecto​ ​Carrow. 

Sirius​ ​knew​ ​too​ ​well​ ​the​ ​in’s​ ​and​ ​out’s​ ​of​ ​Pureblood​ ​society,​ ​regardless​ ​of​ ​the​ ​fact​ ​that​ ​he’d​ ​been absent​ ​from​ ​the​ ​epicenter​ ​for​ ​years.​ ​He​ ​knew​ ​the​ ​families,​ ​the​ ​names​ ​of​ ​the​ ​patriarchs​ ​and matriarchs,​ ​those​ ​who​ ​were​ ​slated​ ​to​ ​carry​ ​on​ ​the​ ​family​ ​name,​ ​and​ ​those​ ​that​ ​could​ ​easily​ ​be cast​ ​aside​ ​as​ ​spares.​ ​He​ ​had​ ​been​ ​trained,​ ​sculpted​ ​by​ ​his​ ​mother​ ​and​ ​father​ ​from​ ​a​ ​young age​ ​to​ ​emulate​ ​the​ ​perfect​ ​heir,​ ​the​ ​perfect​ ​Pureblood.​ ​As​ ​such,​ ​knowledge​ ​of​ ​the​ ​societal standings​ ​of​ ​everyone ​had​ ​been​ ​crucial. 

“And​ ​yet,​ ​here​ ​you​ ​are,”​ ​Sirius​ ​retorted,​ ​lips​ ​curling​ ​back​ ​in​ ​a​ ​small​ ​sneer,​ ​not​ ​bothering​ ​to conceal​ ​the​ ​disdain​ ​that​ ​dripped​ ​from​ ​every​ ​word.​ ​“Don’t​ ​you​ ​have​ ​better​ ​things​ ​to​ ​do​ ​than bother​ ​me​ ​with​ ​idle​ ​insults​ ​and​ ​steal​ ​my​ ​cigs?​ ​Chase​ ​around​ ​after​ ​big​ ​brother​ ​and​ ​suck​ ​up​ ​to mommy​ ​and​ ​daddy,​ ​perhaps?”​ ​She​ ​was​ ​the​ ​epitome​ ​of​ ​a​ ​cold,​ ​shrew​ ​Pureblood​ ​woman,​ ​and everything​ ​Sirius​ ​had​ ​hated​ ​about​ ​the​ ​life​ ​he​ ​was​ ​once​ ​destined​ ​to​ ​live.

days get heavy  | s.&open

[sirivsblvckiii-blog]

THE MAGIC BEGINS ↳ 17. Favourite Marauder: Sirius Black

[sirivsblvckiii-blog]

James:

Diagon Alley seemed smaller now somehow, or perhaps he had grown too big for it. It used to be that James couldn’t get two feet without being drawn to this shop or that one, attention pulled a million different ways at once with all the sounds and sights. The world didn’t feel quite as bright as it used to, but James still kept his head up as he wandered between the shops. 

He had no particular destination in mind. Really, he ought to be heading home soon. There had been long day after long day that week and no end to them in sight. But James had a twitch to his fingers he couldn’t stop, a restlessness to him that had driven him out the door hours before and kept him walking aimlessly for far too long.

There were a few familiar faces here and there that he had spared a friendly wave to, but as he rounded another corner, he found one face he always had time to stop for. A slight grin on his lips, he made his way over, casually sidling up to Sirius’s side. Of course he would know someone was there without even looking, that impossible air of coolness always following Sirius around like a storm cloud.

“Not really, but I’ll take this,” he said, casually reaching to pluck the cigarette from Sirius’s hand, bringing it to his own lips to take a drag. Making a face, James shook his head as he blew out a slow stream of smoke. “Merlin, I hate these things, never understand how you can put up with the taste, mate.”

But that didn’t mean he was about to stop or give it back. James wasn’t much of a smoker, or a drinker honestly, but if Sirius or anyone else was partaking, he couldn’t very well sit there and do nothing.

Leaning against the wall beside him, James tipped his head back and shot Sirius a grin. “What brings you out here, Padfoot? You see the new brooms they got in down the street?”

The voice that reached his ears immediately tugged the corners of his lips upwards into a wide, easy grin.

Prongs.

He allowed the cigarette to be plucked from between his fingers, watching the young man beside him follow suit. Instantly, Sirius’ shoulders dropped - relaxed - and his posture eased, the familiar company drawing forth a sense of comfort he seldom felt nowadays. He gave a light chuckle, head leaning back to rest against the brick of the building, leg kicking up and foot resting there, as well. “Eh, it’s not so bad once you get used to it,” he said, grinning over at James.

There had been no way to possibly know just how James Potter would impact his life upon their first meeting. He remembered - easily - meeting the other boy on the Hogwarts Express, remembered how things had simply clicked into place, and how he had never known anything quite like it before. Being with James had felt more like home than anything he’d ever known before, and James had given him the only real home he’d ever had. He was his best friend, his home - a soulmate, of sorts, if one were to believe in that - and Sirius had never thought that sort of relationship possible.

Sirius watched, eyeing the cigarette, a smile toying at his lips as he met James’ gaze. “‘Course. You’re gonna have to trade in that shite you used seventh year for one of ‘em,” he teased. The war fell away around them, and Sirius could pretend - if only for the moment - that it wasn’t looming over every move they made, every word that fell from between their lips. Sirius smirked, eyebrows quirked, and he snatched the cigarette back from James, taking a long drag and releasing the smoke in a single puff.

“Order business. Bloody boring,” he answered with a small shrug, the cigarette carefully tucked between his fingers. “Talk to Git McWanker and look out for some bloody something or other. Dead end, though. Nothing worthwhile, so it’s a waste of time.” Sirius paused and offered the cigarette to James, an easy, confident grin settling over his mouth. “You’re not busy, are you?”

days get heavy  | s.&open