#memories is him with orion and walburga

[empress-simps]

Line That Leads To You

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader AU: Soulmate AU CW: Language, Genre: Angst with a happy ending (don't worry guys) Summary: You make Sirius realize that having a soulmate isn’t all that bad— that he too, will have his happily ever after.

Note: One of my favorite tropes to write, soulmate AUs! Sirius just needs love and affirmation. I love writing for this! Enjoy! Picture is from pinterest, credits to the owner!

You know, Sirius never really believed in those pesky soulmates stuff. It irks him to no end, and makes his head hurt.

The topic makes him snappy, bitter, and it leaves him feeling angry. To whom? The world— the one who’s responsible for everything that has to do with soulmates. He thinks it is a bunch of bollocks. It’s a pathetic little concept that everyone seems to be too invested in.

Sirius would be very much happy to tell you it doesn’t really end with a happily-ever-after.

“I’m telling you, Prongs. It’s just a bunch of crap.” Sirius tells James one time at the drawing room in the Potter Manor. James shakes his head, disagreeing with his best mate.

“It isn’t always like Walburga and Orion, Pads.” James gently tells him, eyes swimming with empathy for Sirius. “Just look at me, Lily and I are together, finally.” Sirius can’t help but scoff, shaking his head in a disagreeing manner.

“That’s because you were already pathetically in love with her before you even knew she was the one, Prongs. Same thing for Lily, but she was quite stubborn trying to deny what she felt about you. You guys are actually made for each other.” James lets out a laugh, the memories resurfacing making a love-struck smile appear on his face (Sirius gave him a disgusted look)

“That’s what soulmates are, Pads. You’re supposed to complete each other, balance the other person out” He pursed his lips and sighed, there’s no way Prongs could understand his opinion on the matter.

Complete each other, huh?

Then can someone give him a reasonable excuse on why his parents broke each other? One descended into madness; the other doesn’t really seem to care as long as the noble house of Black lineage will continue.

Sirius bites his bottom lip, deep in thought as he stares at his pinky, willing the connection to be seen; a red string that was tied into a bow that leads to Merlin-knows-where. It serves as a connection; the string that he and only his soulmate can see whenever they want. He tugs on it curiously, awaiting any reaction with bated breath. He almost scrambled away when he felt the other end also tug it. Sirius was utterly terrified, a shiver crawled up to his system, it’s foreign feeling for the Black’s eldest son. It made everything feel too real. A fact that he desperately tries to deny.

That night, before they returned to Hogwarts as sixth year students was the last time he ever willed to see the annoying little string in his pinky, not caring if his supposed other half was finding him or already found him.

Maybe it had to do with his twisted upbringing. He saw how his father cut the string tying him to their mother, the purple string that bound them together turning gray and withering away.

He saw how Regulus flinched, no one should’ve seen a scene like that, but they did. Someone severing their connection to someone who should’ve been with them through better or for worse, the one that fate intended for them. Their life got worse just after that, forcing him to flee and leave his younger brother behind at the deranged hands of Walburga Black.

“You should eat more, Reggie.” You turned towards the quiet and reserved Slytherin, pushing his plate closer to him, which made him wince. “I am quite full.” You raised a brow “None sense, all you did was sip pumpkin juice so you better do as I say or I’ll tell Evan and Junior.”

“Do you know that you boss people around quite well?” He grumbles, shoving a few spoonsful of dinner in his mouth as you hummed in approval, cracking a small smile. “I was told.” Your eyes flickered to the Gryffindor table, it seemed to gravitate you, pulling you in.

Looking down at your pinky, you willed the string to be visible to you. Seeing the red string attached to Sirius Black made your stomach churn; was it butterflies? Unease? You don’t particularly know, having mixed reactions to the string that leads to your other half.

You’ve known for over a year now, keeping it to yourself as you quickly figured out that he wants nothing to do with his soulmate.

“Reggie! Reggie!”

You exclaimed, slapping the poor boy’s arm as he was currently staying in the L/n Manor. He looked in your direction, quite annoyed, he was interrupted reading his book. “I’m reading, Y/n. You know, you should too. It’ll do you some good.” He sassed, trying to find which part he stopped reading. “My soulmate! They tugged the string!” You gushed, “They must be looking for me too, right?” You asked no one in particular, you can still feel the tingles you felt, how your heartbeat picked up, and how you felt like you were in could nine.

Quite the opposite from what Sirius felt, huh?

You never told him, never planned to. It was quite clear what his views are on the concept of soulmates when you saw him snogging different girls every week. It wrecked you; you swore you felt your heart stop beating every time you see him loving a girl other than you even just for a week. It sounds stupid and all, but you would give up everything just to know what it feels like; how he will look at you with love and adoration in his eyes, how his touch and kisses would linger on your body, and how his voice would sound like as his breath fans in your ear, whispering promises of love.

You looked at him from the Slytherin table; so close yet so far.

Regulus noticed, the all too familiar broken look in your face. His heart hurts for you, even if you do not tell him, he already knows. Seeing his brother’s indifference, Regulus’s gaze hardened. How could he have the guts to do this to his soulmate?

The memory of their mother's despair, the way she withered away after their father severed the bond, was etched into his mind. Regulus does not wish for anyone to feel that way, he does not wish upon it even in his worst enemies.

It was a pain no one should endure, a lesson that should have been learned.

Yet there sat his brother, laughing with his friends and willfully ignoring the pulls of his heart. The person who held the other end of this unseen tether, was beside Regulus. Your soul ached as you watched your soulmate. It was a betrayal of the heart's deepest connection, and it stirred a tempest of fury within Regulus that he struggled to contain.

“My brother is foolish. Eat.” He states, pushing your food and placing the cornbread on his plate to yours. She cracks a smile, chuckling. “Alright, Reggie. You’re lucky I love you.” You pat his curls, proceeding to eat the bread, smiling a little. Reggie never really shares his food with anyone, except for you. You’re the only exception.

“Padfoot.” Remus starts, looking out of the window as Sirius lays down lazily in his bed, looking at nothing.

“What, Moons?”

“If I say that I have an inkling on who your soulmate is, would you… look for them?” Remus asked cautiously. Peter and James perked up, eyes wide with shock. How could Remus possibly guess who his soulmate is? Unless… They’re also in Hogwarts?

“Don’t start with that crap, Moony.” Sirius sat up; a scowl displayed in his features as his grey eyes turned stormy.

“Don’t you even feel the slightest amount of guilt in your system as you snog other girls?” Remus frowned.

Sirius’s scowl deepened, his hands clenching into fists. “Guilt? For what, Moony? For not wanting to be chained down by some ancient magic?” His voice was a low growl, barely containing the emotions that surged within him. “I won’t be dictated by fate. I make my own choices, and I refuse to be bound by a bond I never asked for.”

Remus’s expression softened, the lines of concern etching deeper into his face. “It’s not about being chained, Pads. It’s about finding someone who complements you, who understands you in ways no one else can.” He paused, his gaze steady and piercing. “You’ve seen what happens when that bond is severed. You’ve seen the pain it causes. Is that what you want for yourself? For your soulmate who’s probably hurting somewhere?”

Sirius looks down, biting his lip and playing with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t plan on severing our bond, Moons- “

“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Remus spat, Sirius flinched, looking at anything but them. He knew deep down that Remus was right. He can’t deny he also wants to look for his soulmate. The only thing that was holding him back is that he’s scared. What if your story would end similarly like how Walburga and Orion’s did? Dread fills his system as he reflects on how he slowly realized he’s becoming like his father. Peter and James exchanged a glance, the weight of the conversation settling heavily upon them.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of finding her… Scared of repeating the same mistakes.” He paused, his gaze lifting to meet Remus’s. ���But you’re right. I can’t keep running from this. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.”

James offered a supportive smile, feeling happy for his friend. Sirius stood up, his posture straightening as if shedding the weight of his fears. “I’ll do it. I’ll find her,” he declared, his voice steady. “I owe it to both of us to at least try.”

“That’s our Padfoot.” Remus breathes a sigh of relief as Peter nods encouragingly at Sirius.

The next daylight soon came. Sirius gulps, looking around the great hall, feeling quite overwhelmed at the number of students entering for breakfast, eating, or chatting amongst themselves. For the first time in a long time, he willed the red string of fate to reappear within his vision.

Ah, there it was. The red string connected to someone from the Slytherin table. Sirius felt his heart drop, seeing the end of the string connected to your pinky. “Y/n?” The name left his lips in a hushed awe, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the string connected to your pinky. You, who laughed with such ease beside Regulus, were the missing piece.

Whether it was some brotherly instinct, Regulus looked at him, shooting him a warning stare as if to say: ‘If you hurt her, you’ll never see the light of day ever again.’

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing eyes set on his friend. “Found her, Pads?”

“Yeah. Found her, Moony.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” James chimed in, a grin spreading across his face as Peter silently cheers him on. “Go on, before you lose your nerve.”

Sirius took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of Regulus’s protective stare. It was a silent challenge, a vow to keep your heart safe from his brother. With a nod of acknowledgment, Sirius stepped forward, crossing the small distance between the Gryffindor table and Slytherin.

“Y/n,” he said, standing before you, the red string pulsing with a life of its own.

You stilled, slowly looking in his direction. Eyes wide with surprise, searched his for a moment before softening. “I was wondering when you’d come around,” you teared up, making Sirius’ heart ache.

Sirius extended his hand, the red string wrapping around both your destinies. “Let’s talk, yeah?”

And in that moment, as your fingers intertwined, Sirius knew that whatever the future held, he had made the right choice. For in finding you, he had found a new path that began to unravel, one filled with hope and courage. The buzz of Great Hall continued, but both of them felt time still, feeling the bond weave into their souls deeper.

Sirius’s and Y/n’s story had its flaws, but it was theirs, uniquely woven by the red strings of fate.

[ch0k3herwithaseaview]

@jegulus-microfic | march 7 phase | words: 644

tw: transphobia, anger issues, swearing

When Walburga finally passed away, Regulus and Sirius took their partners to check if there was anything worth keeping in the house they grew up in.

As they entered a shiver went down Regulus spine, all the horrible memories coming back. He wanted to leave as soon as he saw the family portrait hung on the wall across from the entrance. There were four figures painted on it - Walburga, who looked terrifying even in a painting that was supposed to warm her image; next to her stood Orion, haughty, with a mustache covering his mouth; they both had one of their hands each on the shoulders of their children - Sirius and someone Regulus never was.

"Love, you're shaking," a soft whisper came to his ear as a hand reached his back, squeezing lightly in a comforting gesture, calming him down a little. "They're gone, nothing's going to happen, I've got you," James murmured into his hair, kissing him there a moment later.

Feeling a bit less stressed Regulus nodded and smiled at his fiancé, taking his hand. James smiled, too, squeezing the hand lightly.

As they went through the Grimmauld Place lots of expensive, mostly useless shit was found - some swords, ancient piano, silverware made of real silver, Dior plates (why? just… why?) and paintings by famous painters such as Rubens, Monet and some others. Reaching second floor Regulus immediately went to scratch off the name tag on his old room’s door.

"This bitch! She could have just left it, but of course not! It would be too much of a disgrace to the family if anyone noticed!" he yelled, as the tag fell to the floor piece by piece. Regulus started banging on the door, angry to the point that tears of frustration started streaming down his face. "You could’ve just tear it off and not put another one on, but of course you’re too envious for that! I hate you! Do you hear me?! I!" bang. "Hate!" bang. "YOU!" Regulus may have acted a bit psychotically, but who wouldn't in his situation? His own mother was being transphobic towards him even from her grave.

When he calmed down few minutes later, James approached him, kneeling by his side and whipping the tears away. "Better?" he asked Regulus and he responded with a small nod. At that James pulled Reg to his chest and held tight, whispering sweet nothings to him.

***

A few hours after Regulus' breakdown, they had packed up all of their old clothes (most of them were to be sold and the rest would be given to their future children), grabbed some of the nicer things their parents had left behind, and sat in the living room with tea and an old photo album. As they flipped through the pages there were comments like ‘Don’t you have any normal pictures? Like, from a bathtub or a playground or something?’, provided mostly by Remus.

When Regulus turned another page James gasped and Remus whistled. In the photo, he sat at the Christmas Eve table with freshly cut short hair, wearing a black suit and matching tie.

"Your inner Sirius awoke that year, huh?" his brother-in-law asked with amusement.

"Oh, his inner Sirius awoke to the point he even wore a binder to piss them off further. And I, as an ally, acted like I didn’t know who they were referring to anytime someone used his deadname. Mother told me to stop then, remember Reggie?" his brother asked, turning to him. "She said that it was just a phase" they both laughed at the memory. Yes, Walburga almost had a stroke as Regulus walked down the stairs in one of Sirius’ old suits and a new haircut. She was so stunned she forgot to punish him after everyone went home.

"Well," Reg said, smirking smugly "I guess it wasn’t just a phase, mother."

[mauveberries]

one tomarry trope i like more than harry travelling back in time is when tom travels forward in time. preferably with several of his schoolmates like walburga, abraxas, orion, alphard, lestrange.. etc. oh, the drama hits. like can you imagine walburga travelling forward in time and meeting sirius, whos stuck in grimmauld after being wrongfully convicted as a war criminal? ugh, perfect.

abraxas sneering at draco, orion and wally fighting so much sirius is so done with their bullshit. alphard just.. being there.

walburga coming across her own portrait in grimmauld 😭 naturally, chaos ensues. walburga screaming at sirius and the portrait of future her joins in as well

tom seeing voldemort, but instead of being disgusted like the usual trope, he’s in awe, he loves his new visage, slits for nostrils and all (he just wishes future him has a bit more sanity)

harry losing his temper, and being like, ‘i hate you. you killed my parents!’ and tom’s in the room, surrounded by his schoolmates whom he finds out he had killed in the future: ‘i ended up killing almost everyone in this room, your parents aren’t special’

tom easily dominating and entirely sweeping the floor with harry in a duel. best trope.

dumbledore now having to deal with not one but TWO tom riddles.. UGH so good. tom getting annoyed at harry and strangling him with his bare hands. and harry’s like: ‘voldemort almost choked me to death. you know how it is’ when asked.

walburga disgusted at tom for killing off her future son and the major fight that ensues. hermione trying to see how smart tom really is, and being completely stumped, because in addition to all the knowledge she has, he is extremely competent at dark and blood magic, which she isn’t.

tom now wielding immunity in the form of voldemort’s protection and trying to kill walburga when she calls him mudblood. tom telling abraxas lucius is hotter than him.

tom and voldemort having a mental link so that voldemort’s memories come trickling into tom’s brain, until he just decides to do a ritual so that voldemort gets his sanity and human body back.

voldemort killing dumbledore eventually

walburga and orion having another son in the future and naming him regulus (sirius is Tired)

This is where the drama’s at, honestly

[iamnmbr3]

So it seems like in the period before his fall in 1981 Voldemort had begun a period of rapid escalation in the intensity/violence of his activities.

In book 5 Moody shows Harry a picture of the original Order. Most of the people in that picture ended up dead. Since Lily and James are in the picture (and are both Order members and not in hiding or still in school) we know the picture was taken no later than 1980 and no earlier than 1978. Thus, all the people in the picture who ended up dead (Benjy Fenwick, Caradoc Dearborn, Dorcas Meadows, Gideon and Fabian Prewett, Edgar Bones and his family, Marlene McKinnon etc.) died in a relatively short period of time. (In fact we know from Lily's letter in book 7 that the McKinnons died only shortly before Lily & James were killed).

Furthermore, we know from Sirius that when Regulus joined the Death Eaters, Walburga and Orion were both very happy because at the time they supported Voldemort. However, Sirius says they later got cold feet when they saw "what Voldemort was prepared to do to get power." Clearly they didn't renounce their blood supremacist ideology. But probably plunging the whole of the wizarding world into a bloody civil war in which even purebloods who didn't offer total loyalty and compliance. were at risk, wasn't something they approved of. Regulus died in 1979, having presumably come to a similar conclusion to his parents and consequently turned against Voldemort. Since Regulus would have joined up in 1977 or 1978 this suggests that when he joined, Voldemort hadn't yet begun his escalation but by 1979 it was in full swing.

Going back even further, based on Dumbledore's memory of Tom returning to apply once more for the DADA job, it seems that at that time Tom was already using the title "Lord Voldemort." However clearly at that point he wasn't a wanted man as in the memory he doesn't seem to be hiding his identity at all and clearly has no concern that Dumbledore is going to summon the Aurors and shout, "seize him!" So even if Voldemort was already a rallying point for blood supremacists that early on, he certainly wasn't yet involved (openly anyway) in any type of illegal activity.

So it seems that Voldemort started off slowly, perhaps even as the head of an extremist but still legally legitimate political faction, maybe with his Death Eaters secretly engaging in some illegal activities and then around 1978 or 1979 he initiated a rapid and violent escalation aimed at totally crushing all his opposition and seizing total control by force. (And he may well have been very near to succeeding in that goal when he lost his powers in 1981).

(I will also add that from a shipping perspective there's something else really interesting about this timeline. Alphard died around 1977. Now I'm not saying that Alphard was the last restraining factor that held Tom even somewhat in check or that when he died the last piece of Tom's humanity went with him or that Tom went mad with grief and fully succumbed to his darkest impulses or that he no longer saw any reason to hold back. But also I'm not, not saying that. Alphalord is totally canon.)

[metalomagnetic]

I am spiraling into Sirius being a father again.

His relationship with his sons and harry are so interesting to me. Because it seems to me they all want to be his favorite child , even Marvolo who seems to like his mother better.

And we see a lot of glimpses of them being a little jealous of each other. So this makes me wonder , does Orion sometimes resent Harry for being the "favorite". Because Sirius gives Harry a lot of special treatment even if he doesn't realize it himself.

I imagine it would get worse after Voldemort comes back and wants to kill Harry , so it would be logical for Sirius to get even more protective of Harry.

But hey , maybe i'm reaching a little too far because i love angst too much.

All the boys want to be Sirius' favourite, of course.

You didn't reach too far at all. That 'your precious Harry' Orion let out shows there is some resentment there. Orion loves Harry, but one has to be blind not to notice Sirius treats them differently.

And children are jealous, generally. Especially so young. Especially when there are already expectations on Orion's shoulders to be the perfect Black Heir, meanwhile Harry can do whatever he likes with little to no repercussion. Of course, here is not just Sirius that puts pressure on Orion, but the entire family.

On the other side, even if Harry isn't at all jealous that he doesn't get smacked around by Sirius, Walburga and Arcturus (RIP), he, too has some insecurities about the entire Black/non-Black thing. But Harry is not only older, more chill, but also Sirius' devotion to him helps a lot, so Harry isn't resentful of the other boys, just sometimes insecure.

Poor Marvolo has it the worst (in his head) because there's Harry the Golden Child, Orion the Heir, and now Helix the baby that captures more attention, so he feels he has to compete extra hard; though, he's more resentful of Orion, not Harry,

They do all love the other, but sometimes brothers do get like that, even in normal families, let alone the most noble and ancient House of Black.

I do think Lucius was right, and Sirius should have treated them all the same, but Sirius doesn't want to 'steal' James' place as father, even if it's a fool's errand, since James has no place in Harry's life. But, for James' memory, he tries to raise Harry how James would have raised him, once again, an impossible task, because Harry is surrounded by values James wouldn't have exposed Harry to, anyway.

It would have been better if Sirius was ready for children, and if he wasn't so traumatised when he took Harry and then practically had Orion and Marvolo back to back. He really wasn't ready for all that, but well Harry had to be taken care of, and then his lovely family pushed him into marriage and here we are.

Mistakes were made.

Still, despite all that, they do have a loving family. All those children know they are loved fiercely. They just compete for the 'favourite' spot.

[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicrofic July 11 - prompt 11: Over 30 Years Old [word count 881]

Sirius had always dreaded the age of 35. It was the age Orion Black had become head of the House of Black after his own father’s death, and the age Walburga had always waved in front of him as The Ultimate Goal.

“When you’re 35 you’ll be a grown man and you’ll be the one to provide for me instead,” she had said in those rare memories when he was a little kid wobbling through the house at Grimmauld Place, asking his mother if he could do anything to help her in her chores.

Not that Walburga Black really had any chores, she just ordered around her array of house elves and hexed them when they didn’t do the things as she liked, he would come to understand later on.

“When you’re 35 you’ll see how all this was useful,” she said with a sharp look which clearly warned him never to complain again in front of one of his private tutors when he was barely six and had just gone from his lesson in ancient Greek to etiquette to Latin without having the time to breathe in between.

Even after all those years Sirius hated the fact he could sit at an elegant table and pick up the right fork or spoon by instinct, or could visit a museum and find himself reading and understanding with no trouble at all the old inscriptions on the ancient statues brought there from Greece or Rome.

“When you’re 35 you’ll be head of the House of Black, sole master of the family,” she had told him the day he had turned eleven and had gotten his first wand, her hand digging claw-like in his shoulder as she kept him standing in front of the tapestry with the whole family tree embroidered on it.

Sirius had never known what his father thought of it, because for him to become head of the house Orion would have to die first and he was still quite young and healthy to just pass when his firstborn would turn 35. Sometimes he had thought Walburga would simply ensure her husband would be dead right in time to follow her own deadlines. It wouldn’t really be out of character for her after all.

“This does not change anything. By 35 you’ll be at the helm of this family, a Black through and through despite your disgrace,” she had said sharply on his first Christmas break from Hogwarts, after ripping his Gryffindor tie from his neck and throwing it into the fireplace.

That night had been the first of many Sirius had thought that if he couldn’t escape his family before he would make sure he would not reach that age.

“Maybe I wasn’t clear enough. By 35 you’ll be married to a girl I will have approved, you will have had children to further the legacy of our family and you’ll be continuing the work your father and I started by bringing our name back to power,” she had whispered, wand pointed at his throat, when he had been fourteen and Regulus had been caught asking him during the holidays which one of the Gryffindor girls always trailing behind him he was actually dating.

“I think you have forgotten a detail, son of mine. You have a brother. If you do not comply tonight, if you don’t quietly come back into the fold, I’ll make sure you never even get to see the age of 35. I gave you this life you’re squandering, and as your mother, I can take it away just as easily,” she had hissed, standing over where he was bleeding on the carpet the last day he had spent at his parents’s house.

He had managed to save himself and run away that night, falling almost unconscious in the Potters’ fireplace.

Effie and Monty had taken him in and had given him everything his own parents hadn’t been able to. They had loved him unconditionally, accepted him when he had come out, wiped away tears of joy when he had told them he was moving in with Remus. Still, the number 35 had remained like a screech in his mother’s voice at the back of his mind all those years, as if on that fateful day Walburga would somehow reappear in front of him and remind him how he had failed her and the whole family. He knew it wasn’t possible. He had been disowned after he had run away, and even if he hadn’t, he had barely turned 30 when the old house at Grimmauld Place had been somehow engulfed by the flames one night and both his parents had died in the fire. Orion had effectively died before Sirius turned 35 in the end, and he wondered if his mother had thought about that in her last moments.

Still, the morning of his birthday, Sirius woke up and refused to open his eyes. All the things Walburga had said around that fateful number came crashing back on him and he found himself shivering in his own bed like a child again. Then a movement at his side, two arms wrapping themselves around him and a mouth pressing on his.

“Happy 34th-and-one, my love,” Remus’s voice whispered in his ear.

And Sirius finally smiled.

[leviathanspain]

two strangers

sirius black x potter!reader

synopsis: years after your brothers death and sirius’ betrayal, you meet again, and realize you are nothing but strangers

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you stared at him as he walked through the door. it was as if your soul had been sucked by dementors. your mouth felt like cotton balls, and you felt your cheeks heat up. harry was hugging sirius tightly, whispers of conversation between the two of them were said. but just as they parted, you turned around, ignoring a greeting for sirius.

small murmers from the rest of the order was heard as you trudged up the stairs with kreacher lugging your bag up, just right behind you. as your hand grazed the wooden rail, you repeated the same words over and over to yourself.

you’re doing this for harry and the order. for harry and the order. the words circled around in your head like a stirring pot.

you hadn’t realized it but the stairs had come to an end, and you faced his bedroom. you blinked, surprised that even with the door barely ajar, from the looks of it, was still the same.

you inhaled, and continued down the hall, moving to one of the many guests rooms of the black house.

kreacher set your bag down and left with a nod, muttering off to himself. a crazy little elf, just seeing him brought back more memories of your hogwarts years. sneaking into sirius’ room, finding kreacher sweeping and staring at you, knowing very well walburga and orion would know of your intrusion when the morning came.

but when sirius ran away, and moved into your home with your brother, it had only made the two of you worse. stuck on each other like little sea urchins, it was impossible to have one without the other, james was always making a big fuss about it.

you and sirius were sitting on the couch, watching television from the new muggle invention, you were ruffling with his hair when sirius grabbed your waist. he pulled you closer into him, and suddenly the two of you were heavily petting each other, kissing and groaning all over the place.

james had been unfortunate to walk into the scene, and bonked sirius on the head with his bag of crisps. “get off my sister, pads. have some respect.” he would always say, and then throw himself in the spot between you two, much to your displeasure.

you and sirius lived a fruitful life together, but an argument had sent the two of you spiraling, but only one had come home to forgive.

the keys jangled as you unlocked the door and found no one. the house was empty, your brother and lily moved out and your parents off for holiday, sirius should be home.

but just as you shut the door, setting your things down, it opened once more and a drunken sirius walked inside. you whipped your head around to see him disheveled, collar ripped open with kisses and hickies decorating his skin, he was wearing a wide smile on his face.

“y/n. baby i’m sorry- i should’ve known it was your birthday, and i know,” he grabbed your hands, and kissed them sloppily, “a good way to make it up to you.” he whispered.

your face contorted into disgust as you shoved him off. “get the fuck out before i curse you.” you choked out, opening the door again, you stuck your want out at him.

sirius blinked, and step forward until your wand was nearly stabbing into his chest, he raised an eyebrow, “do it.” his tone was bordering slightly menacing and you gulped, “i’ll do it.” you warned and he laughed bitterly, “fucking do it!” he yelled, and you flinched, pulling away.

the door to your room was opened, and the wood creaking got your attention. you looked up to find remus, hands in his pocket, staring at you with concern.

he knew that look on your face, all too well. “you’ll find the pain gets easier with the less details you remember.” you nodded, “i gathered that.”

remus walked into the room, and shut the door behind him, “you need to stop punishing yourself. i know how much you went through, but you still love him.”

you shook your head, “do i? it’s been nearly fifteen years since i last talked to him. i wasn’t there at his trial, i didn’t do any of it.” you sighed, “i gave him the benefit of the doubt when james and lily were killed. i knew deep down he never did it. but that was the sirius i knew. that man out there, he’s no one but harry’s godfather.”

remus shook his head, “give him a chance, y/n. he has so much to say to you.” he opened the door and stopped, “harry loves him. just remember that when your doubts get the best of you. dinner is soon, i’ll send harry to come get you when it starts.” you nodded and watched as rem left.

harry had stood up when remus sent him to retrieve you. dinner was being served, and molly wouldn’t stop asking about you.

sirius met harry at the door and smiled tightly, “i’ll get her.”

harry raised his eyebrows, “are you sure? it’s no trouble, she’s my aunt-“

sirius put a hand on harry’s shoulder, “it’s not trouble at all, but i think that it’s just better if i get her. talk to her, eh?” harry couldn’t argue anymore, and just hesitantly walked back to his seat as sirius walked up the stairs.

you heard the steps in front of your door creak and you opened it, “harry-“

but instead of the shining boy in front of you, it was sirius.

immediately, the smile you had painted had died down and you only looked at sirius, “hello.” you spoke, fidgeting in your spot. this is what you had been trying to avoid. the awkward conversation, the hesitance to talk to him, it was too much, too familiar.

sirius closed his eyes, “i know. im sorry.” he spoke, and you shook your head, “it’s been fifteen years, sirius, let’s just-“

sirius shook his head, “no. i never got to make it right. i never got to fix us.” he inhaled sharply, “i want you. i want us to be us again, y/n. it wasn’t just some teenage fling, and you weren’t just my best friend’s sister.” the younger sirius was brought out and he was speaking with the same passion that he once had.

you shook your head, “no. i cant do this anymore sirius. we are not the same love struck teenagers! we are grown adults and you expect me to forgive you, now?” you blinked, a tear falling onto your cheek, you looked away, “i cant do this. i thought i could, for harry, for the order-“

sirius shook his head, “don’t go. please, im sorry for even bringing it up. just stay.” he pleaded, and for a moment you were swayed to stay, but you shook your head, “when harry is ready to go, have remus call me.” and you apparated with a swing of your wand.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 10 - Bar/Restaurant AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 10, word count 1000

The restaurant Remus worked in was swanky. It was the most expensive in the city. He was only a busboy, but he loved it.

The Potters may be famous, but they had kind hearts. Effie was the head chef and prided herself on her perfect, delicious food. She often boxed food up for Remus to take home with him. He was certain she cooked most of it just for him. Monty ran the front of house, ensuring everything flowed and the customers were all happy. He always had a cheerful wink for Remus and a hug when he arrived.

The last Potter was their son, James. He and James had hit it off instantly, and he thought that was probably what got him the job in the first place. James worked the bar and helped Remus clear the tables when he was having a bad day. He loved the Potters and happily put up with their snobby customers just to spend time with them. 

One evening, the richest family in London darkened their doors. 

Walburga Black swooped in, closely followed by her husband Orion and her youngest son Regulus. Her eldest made a B-line for the bar. 

“Sirius!” She barked. Sirius immediately turned away from James and got back in line behind his father, but not before catching Remus’s eye and grinning at him. 

She seated her family without waiting to be shown. Walburga Black did not like to be told where she could and could not go. She clicked her fingers in Remus’s direction. He looked around. Monty was busy with another customer. Marlene and Mary were carrying plates of food to a big party. She clicked her fingers again. 

“Finally,” She snapped. “Champagne and three whisky neats.” Remus stood frozen to the spot, unsure what to do. A hand squeezed his. He looked down and saw the eldest son’s hand moving back to the table to fiddle with his fork. Remus walked shakily to the bar and gave James the order. 

“Breathe Remus. It’s fine. Just make sure they always have drinks.” James said as he placed the drinks on a tray. 

“Wait. What do you mean?” Remus paled. 

“You’ll have to be their waiter while they’re here. She hates having multiple people waiting on them. Please, Remus. They always leave a good tip, and it’s all yours.” James put his hands together and pleaded silently to Remus. Remus grabbed the tray of drinks and served the drinks.

“Menus,” She ordered. Mary brushed past him, forcing four menus into his hand. Quickly, he passed them around the table. Sirius's fingers brushed his hand as he took his, making Remus nearly knock over Regulus’s drink. He moved away so he wasn’t hovering. Monty caught his eye, and he went to stand by him. 

“Sorry, kid. They’re early. I thought we’d be alright. You okay?” He put a comforting hand on Remus’s shoulder. Remus nodded. “Better go back over. I think she’s ready to order.” Remus hurried back to their table. He was lucky he had a good memory as they all wanted changes and substitutions to their meals. He smiled pleasantly at each of them as he took their menus back. Sirius’s fingers brushed his again, but he was prepared this time. He hurried to put their order in before he forgot anything. 

When the ticket got to the kitchen, he heard Effie slam a pan down. She hated people messing with her food. 

“Oh, dear,” Monty groaned gently. “Remus, love. I don’t suppose…” Remus grinned at him. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” He pushed through the door and into the shining kitchen. 

Effie looked flustered as she peered at the ticket and stirred something that smelled amazing in a giant pot. 

“Hello, darling,” Effie cooed when she spotted him. “Do you have any idea whose ticket this is?” She pointed at the piece of paper next to him. 

“It’s the Black Family.” Effie raised her eyes to the ceiling and took a deep breath. 

“Alright people. We have the Black family order. Let’s make it perfect, people!” She pushed a chocolate mousse in front of Remus and a little spoon. He happily ate it as he watched Effie in her element. 

She got their first courses out in record time, and Remus took them out after explaining that he was taking care of them. 

He placed the food in front of the correct person and refreshed their drinks.

Remus hurried around, clearing the tables he’d neglected and re-setting them. He felt a rush of gratitude as he caught Marlene, Mary, Monty and James all clearing tables with him.

He kept a careful eye on his table and, much to his surprise, got through the entire meal without any mishaps. 

When it came time for them to pay the bill, he slipped it onto the table between Mr and Mrs Black. She picked up the small folder and glared down at the bill. She laid down a small stack of notes and rose from her chair. Orion put £100 into Remus’s hand and followed his wife. 

“Fleamont,” She stopped in front of Monty. Remus noticed the nervousness of his smile. 

“Yes, Mrs Black.”

“I demand that waiter at all our future visits. He is the only competent member of your staff.” She turned to her family. “Come.” And much like she entered, she swooped out the door, her family following in her wake. 

But Sirius paused next to Remus, slipped something into his hand and winked at him.

“Call me,” He grinned a wide, toothy smile and exited the restaurant. 

“Well done, Remus.” Monty clapped him on the shoulder. 

Remus looks down at the scrap of paper Sirius had given him in his hand. It had his number on it. Remus looked at it bewildered. “I’d call him if I were you,” James said over his shoulder. “He’s a good guy.”

Remus tried to share his substantial with the others, but they all refused, telling him he’d earned it.

[spillthebea]

may prompt: secret relationship

@wolfstarmicrofic – words: 951

warning: suicidal thoughts/sacrifice yourself

... this is sad, guys

–––––––––––––––

“She was looking at you,” Sirius says first thing when Remus enters the room.

He is giving his back, folding and unfolding a shirt that has something against being unwrinkled. His hand stretches the material, fingers swiping the wrinkles away and yet, like the fucking itch of unwanted jealousy Sirius is feeling curled in his stomach, it does not cooperate. Why is he doing his laundry when Kreacher is there to lick his boots?

The door is softly closed and shoes are taken off.

“Was she?”

Sirius throws away the shirt exasperated, angry and turns, “Do not fucking play dumb, Remus!” in a burst of all the ugly thoughts haunting him throughout the day since the scene of the meeting. It won't stop replaying in his head.

Remus’ smile and Nymphadora's blush and how old Sirius felt with his sunk eyes and lost beauty.

After that, he went to his mother's room, rummaging in her vanity set for anything that would have helped give him what was once his. Sirius had been the light of the party. He had been flirted with, flattered and had charmed anyone with a look, or a grin and never cared for any of it because he had Remus in his heart.

But now? What does he have for himself?

He can't join the fight. Back in prison, now with just more rooms to roam around and run from his mistakes during sleepless nights of nightmares. He can't even maintain Remus’ eyes on himself because broken.

“… Sirius–”

“Do not use that fucking voice with me”

He sounds like his mother screaming at Orion. Between them, silence or Walburga demanding more of Father as she had done with all of them, her included. And in this house, his new cage, it's difficult to stop sinking in old memories and old fears.

He wants to apologise, reassuring he does not want to sound like Mother. Sirius has never wanted in his life to be like her.

He has always lost that fight.

“I want you to tell her. I want you to tell everyone, I'm tired of hiding.”

Remus quirks an eyebrow, the question loud between them; is Sirius still talking about their secret relationship?

“They won't kick you out of the Order if you tell them what we are,” Sirius continues, ignoring Remus’ little sigh, the drop of his shoulders because they both know it was coming. The signs were all there and no one else except Remus knew how to handle him. Not anymore, at least. All gone, leaving him behind. “They are your friends”

“They are your friends too.” Remus makes his way towards him, jacket wet from the rain outside and Sirius studies it as, just with his mind, he will feel the cold spring rain on his own skin.

Sirius cannot remember the last time he was outside. Even as Padfoot it could be dangerous because Peter… Peter could…

“No. I didn't rot for twelve years thought to have killed James and Lily to call those people my friends. All my friends are fucking dead!”

And so should I! is not said, but it is there between Sirius’ ribs and the need to point his finger at Remus for thinking him capable of wanting to hurt Lily and Harry, betraying James.

It's unfair. It was war, no one trusted no one; except Sirius did trust someone, didn't he? And everything had ended because of that.

Sirius, deep down, is aware that blaming Remus is not the way, but he spent the last twelve years replaying his errors, going through what he could have done to change them… spent those years blaming himself and now it's someone else's turn because he is so tired.

The pressure of his guilt has been clawing his heart for too long. What will Effie say when Sirius is going to meet her in his death?

It is a question that does not let him breathe. Night after night, her cries… He promised his ma he would take care of their James. How could she forgive Sirius after Godric's Hollow?

“Tonks looks at you,” Sirius mutters, hands brushing his hair away from his face and it does not help calm himself down.

She is younger. Full of life and less haunted than him. She can go wherever she wants and is so similar to a younger Sirius.

‘You must have noticed,’ he wants to accuse Remus. ‘You must or you would have not given her the time of day. Am I not enough?'

“And not making clear you are not interested does not help”

Tonks, she likes to be called. A change of name, a rewriting of fate just like Sirius who had hated his to the core– Effie would call them ‘Potters!’ for a meal or a family meeting and he had been included. A Potter. Not officially, neither of blood but in spirit, it had been enough.

Sirius wants to be enough; to have died saving his family like he had planned, bringing as many Death Eaters as he could six feet under with him. To be back in their old London apartment he got from Uncle Al, just the two of them. Remus and Sirius, on their sofa and Sirius stealing sips from Remus’ tea cup.

He wants Remus to touch and love him as they did when younger and less drained by life but when Remus tries to do that same thing, Sirius snarls and dodges to flee.

“Where are you going? Are you not coming to bed?”

The thought of lying down makes him itchy.

“We both know I won't sleep. Tonight, I don't have it in me to fake it for you”

----

np tag: @vlaflipvla (bc you were excited about it) @myriadparacosm

bc last time you said i didn't include you so now i did :))

[delicrieux]

𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫, 6. year one note: september 2nd, the summons

pairing for this chapter—f!lestrange!reader x regulus black warnings for this chapter—none word count—2.1k

whatever did happen at slughorn’s honorary tea party? well…

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | ttp masterlist | < back | next >

you would have preferred to change into something a bit more fitting for a tea party, but the invitation came too sudden. it was just you and regulus, wrung out from the day’s activities – the new classes and itineraries and so many faces to remember and attach names to – en route to the library (by regulus’ request, he had been quite adamant at starting charms homework early) when you were collected and brought the same winding steps down to the dungeons.

you’d think the air be warm and smelling of mould and torch-light smoke, but no. it’s surprisingly dry, if not a bit heavy, bending under the weight of the castle and the black lake. you follow. the professor says his hellos to passing slytherin students. regulus, a step behind you, remains equally as silent.

the office you are cordially ushered in is small for a professor of such distinguished rank. there’s a low ceiling and a homey atmosphere, a plush couch in deep, smoky velvet with gilded edges, a mahogany table, an impressive amount of trinkets and pictures in the cabinet, a few portraits and landscapes and old tomes with latin titles: the elixir compendium: ancient brews and potent potions, alchemy through the ages: secrets of the master potioneers, witchcraft and wizardry: a guide to mystical mixtures.

tea’s already steaming and waiting. beside the cups, a delicious display of biscuits and caramels in flowery china.

“there we are,” professor slughorn says, closing the door. regulus and you take a seat, backs straight and hands folded neatly on your laps. one, however, seems much less at ease, “there we are. what a joy, i must say, to have so many bright students this year.”

the professor takes a seat on an armchair to face you both. his eyes jump between you and regulus. when he takes his tea, you do, too.

“i know it must be too soon to tell, but how are you finding hogwarts?” he settles on regulus first.

there’s a slight pause and an answer given to the tea, “very big, sir.”

“ah,” slughorn intones, “indeed, a marvel of creation. can be quite difficult to navigate. sometimes i stumble the wrong way and discover a room unseen, even after all these years. always up to something, this castle. as if alive itself,” his gaze drifts to you, “and you, miss lestrange? what are the impressions?”

medieval. the truth has a bitter tinge.

what comes out is more polite, “sheer wonder, sir. a bit of homesickness as well, but surely passes away the first few months, does it not?"

“of course, of course! as is to be expected anywhere, but i'm absolutely certain you’ll grow to love it very much over your stay,” there is a gleam of pride, a private whisper of, "very bright, indeed, you two. you'll both excel in all your studies." before he is reaching for a biscuit with the poise of a natural socialite.

regulus frowns but accepts the complement and bites into the sugar glaze of his own treat.

"i recall, you know, your father, mister black. orion was quite a rising name in the duelling club back in the day," a wave of the biscuit, and the memories, "no one, till this day, i bet, could beat him. not without paying a visit to the hospital wing."

regulus looks slightly up from under his lashes. professor slughorn perseveres with an affable smile.

a raised finger, "excelled in defence against the dark arts. wonderful wandwork, though i was quite, if you pardon my candour, miffed that he didn't take to potions as much. top of his class, but his passions laid elsewhere. your mother, though, walburga, oh, a delight to the heart," slughorn, overcome with remembrance, rubs a thumb over the stitching on his robe, "simply splendid. always a joy to have in class – a talented witch and diligent student. well-versed in potion making and never shied away from a difficult task."

"thank you, sir," is offered stiffly and sincerely, if somewhat unwillingly.

"the only one ever to come close to beat her title as top of class was your own mother, miss lestrange," he doesn't notice the glance that passes between you and your cousin, "you are very much like her. laurelle. a spitting image, in fact," there's a strange wistfulness in his eye as he regards you, a tone just a tad softer, "an exceptional young woman."

it could have been anyone – the sentiment could apply to a countless number of things, but...

no one speaks much of your mother, and she doesn't speak at all. hearing anything on a figure whom had faded into an invisible character is strangely foreign. like a freshly cut bruise.

"thank you, sir," you say, not sure how to respond to such a tender sentiment, "everyone says we're much alike."

"then no doubt you possess her talent for runes and arithmacy. her and walburga, always a competition between them, i recall. a bit of friendly rivalry in class. but walburga, i fear, didn't possess laurelle's talent for astronomy or the gift for divination."

there's a slight pause at the mention of the last word, where everything seems to halt. the world itself, under your feet, eases motion. the sugar cube held between your tweezers plops into your cup with a splash a bit too loud.

"and your father," slughron glosses over it quickly but gracefully, "a natural at transfiguration. one of the toughest subjects at hogwarts, if i do say so myself, besides potions, that is," you feel regulus' gaze burn the side of your face, "rodolphus, too, enjoyed transfiguration very much. yes, a very gifted boy."

rabastan mustn’t be talented at much since he isn't mentioned. you expected it, though it feels like a slight injustice.

"here," slughorn stands and retrieves a picture in a pretty gold frame before presenting it to you and regulus, "our winter social of 1946."

in the picture is slughorn himself and his illustrious slug club. there's a 17 year old orion black, handsome, carefree, a slight mischievous twinkle in his eye, not a line of stress etched in his features. you and regulus spot your mothers instantly. walburga softer in the face, the harsh lines not yet present. a modest smile, one regulus mimics unconsciously faced with her likeness. and there's laurelle, your mother, in the front beside slughorn, gazing past the camera to the great beyond.

a beauty. startling in sight, like a painting slightly crooked.

there's father, too, seeming very jovial beside his prewett cousins.

"timon and orion," slughorn continues, pilfering another picture from the cabinet. he gives it to regulus, as you hold the other, "were on the slytherin quidditch team. very good ones, too. orion was seeker and timon beater, a fine fit for their temperaments. are you interested in quidditch, dear boy?"

regulus, finally, comes alive. there's a fervour now, the topic far more exciting than that of house points and exams.

"yes, sir. my brother didn’t allow me to go out and train with him, though. said i'm too young," he doesn't complain, simply recounts with disappointment.

slughorn laughs, "yes, well, sirius cannot stop you now, can he? if you're interested, do talk to young aster fauns. he's the captain of our team. i'm certain he'll be delighted to let you practice before trying out for the team next year. hogwarts is, after all, a great place for adventures, and nothing is more thrilling than an afternoon out in the skies," slughorn's finger wiggle, "best believe it was me, and dear orestes carrow, who first hang-glided off the west tower."

regulus grins then. really grins, a lovely sight. a shadow of orion's, in the picture held before.

slughorn tacks on, "with some friends, naturally. of course, now, of course. safe to say that no one is attempting hang-gliding these days. and you shan't either," he wags a finger, though good-naturedly, "both of you, know i have eyes and ears everywhere. i shall be the first to hear of it."

you return to inspecting the treasure in your hands. the eight members of the slug club stand in formalwear, perfectly fitted. the air is lighter, smiles a little more wide. even for an animated picture, they stay respectably still besides the odd laugh and wandering, playful eyes.

laurelle, particularly, doesn't move, or blink, or breathe. there's a half smile painted on her lips, an almost faint sadness around the edges of her eyes.

she must've been ill by then. so young, a seventh year. a brilliant, albeit tragic star, the scintillating crown of the lestranges. a jewel so precious father chose a foreign last name.

"any classes you are excited for in particular?" slughorn inquires.

regulus starts but keeps a sensible eye, "all of them, sir."

a chortle. he sounds amused, not doubtful, at the wide-eyed, unhesitating declaration.

"and you, miss lestrange?"

you lift your head from the picture. you wonder if you shall grow into her features like rabastan grew into father's, "runes, sir."

"a marvellous subject. tremendously difficult, but i do not doubt your potency for it, dear girl. you'll excel. are you familiar at all?"

regulus turns at attention. the portraits, too, seem intrigued and tilt an ear. you tell the truth, "i know the alphabet. the runic charts in the library at home, though, are very complicated."

"your mother's handiwork, most probably," his lips crinkle upward, eyes scrunched kindly, "many would disagree, but a runic chart is often very subjective. like any other language, the flow and transition depends greatly on the speaker. laurelle was, is still, no doubt, an exceptional translator. have you attempted to read them?"

you glance at regulus, as if unsure. his expression is inscrutable.

"a little, sir," you hesitate again before continuing, "but i can't translate everything. i'd be much more comfortable using a rune dictionary."

"like the best of them, you've inherited your mother's talent."

something remains unsaid, but you feel it in the air around you. bending under the weight.

"well, i shan't keep you longer," slughorn says, setting down his tea, "the hour grows late and you have classes in the morning."

you all stand. regulus collects the photos and returns them to their owner. the others remain in the picture frames on the cabinets. there are too many to take in and you're curious, perhaps a touch greedy, to drink the sight of laurelle lestrange while offered the leisure.

"but, before you go," slughorn calls when you're at the door, "may i have a word, dear girl? only a moment."

you look to regulus, who does, too, and raises a brow. slughorn nods reassuringly, his hand reaching forward, ready to push the knob and send him off.

"i'll wait in the corridor," regulus tells you before the closing door obscures him.

the room is silent. slughorn's small eyes dart to the ground before back to you. there's a tentative smile, "a good friend, isn't he? regulus."

"yes, sir," you reply dutifully.

"no doubt, you shall grow to learn what a gift that is in hogwarts. very true friends, those loyal in their heart, are scarce. it's good to have such a person by your side."

"of course, sir."

the atmosphere feels thick again.

"someone you can trust," he emphasizes, but it feels as though what he's saying is going over your head, "that can be dependable," a gentle, careful tone is in his voice, like a question or a plea, "to confide in."

there's a prolonged silence. a shifting in your boots, the pull of the robe over your knees, "i'm sorry, sir. what do you mean?"

his expression falls, like he doesn't wish to elaborate, to explain the unspoken, but, no doubt, you don't fully understand, "not so important, really. a silly worry. an old man's fretting. this is a very difficult thing, being away from home. could result in a deal of… unexpected ways. i recall i could barely sleep the first week. terribly cold up here in winter, and all the unfamiliar voices."

he sounds apologetic. you say politely, "that will certainly ease itself soon, i'm certain. home is not so far, after all, sir."

he smiles, a comforting thing, "indeed. quite true. a splendid perspective, as i expect of you. only, if there was something to ever come up, know that you can confide in me, as you can in young regulus. my ears and heart are always open," it's offered in earnest. you nod, if not a touch stiff, before bowing your head.

when you enter the corridor, you meet regulus with an unchanged face. he's studying the decorations and trinkets lined the walls. portraits, old medals, and ribbons hung.

"what'd he want?" he inquires once you're on your way back to the common room. a glance over the shoulder, though professor slughorn's office is closed and far off already, "nothing, really."

[saintsenara]

Asenora, authority on all things Voldemort and Black… were Walburga and Orion affected by the presence of Voldemort’s horcrux in their house? Did it impregnate the house with the proverbial “bad juju”? Or is that slander and superstition?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

canon is clear that horcruxes don't inherently corrupt the people who are in their vicinity:

"While the magical container is still intact, the bit of soul inside it can flit in and out of someone if they get too close to the object. I don’t mean holding it for too long, it’s nothing to do with touching it," she added before Ron could speak. "I mean close emotionally. Ginny poured her heart out into that diary, she made herself incredibly vulnerable. You’re in trouble if you get too fond of or dependent on the Horcrux."

and since the ability of a horcrux to influence someone depends on the establishment of an emotional closeness, it's fairly easy to presume that they can't affect the general environment of the places they're kept.

indeed, dumbledore is clear that he isn't able to sense the ring horcrux when he goes to little hangleton - he finds it by searching "for traces of magical concealment". harry is able to sense the presence of other horcruxes, but the text makes very clear why that is:

Deeper and deeper into the labyrinth he went, looking for objects he recognised from his one previous trip into the room. His breath was loud in his ears, and then his very soul seemed to shiver: There it was, right ahead, the blistered old cupboard in which he had hidden his old Potions book, and on top of it, the pockmarked stone warlock wearing a dusty old wig and what looked like an ancient, discoloured tiara.

the locket has no effect on anyone living in grimmauld place during order of the phoenix. nor does it have any effect on umbridge [she can still produce a patronus while wearing it, whereas harry - presumably because it gains a modicum of power over him via him knowing what it is - can't].

grimmauld place's vibes are because it's three different gothic literature tropes in a trench coat - the rotting house, with its madwoman in a portrait rather than the attic, which is gradually driving sirius to despair with the weight of griefs and memories he thought he'd escaped, only to find himself trapped like the child he once was, having outrun nothing.

its sinister aura has nothing to do with dark magic and everything to do with the much more mundane horrors of unhappy families.

[princeblack]

regulus black has been dead for one hundred and twenty-one years and the only voice he knows now is hers. it’s warm, wrapping around his soul and making him feel less alone; less of a memory and more of a person again. he’s still there, lingering, even a century after his death, having his life ripped away from him because of consumption.

what she didn’t know is he wasn’t your average dead man in any dead grave. or maybe she did know that, somewhere deep down. why else would he become her favorite? he felt her favoritism every time she leaned against his tombstone, talking about her days as if he were her friend and not the ghost of someone she would never know. his name is etched on the tombstone, but nothing more remains aside from the bust his mother had sculpted to commemorate her lost son. she had come to his grave to weep at it until consumption took her life as well, dwindling the numbers in the black family to almost nothing.

regulus had a life once, born as the son of a wealthy noble and raised strictly by way of his mother, given better education than most and learning complex science and math others didn’t have access to at a young age. he was familiar with the arts as well, writing and playing piano better than anyone in their town. he even proved to be adept at what was usually saved for the lower class, like caring for animals and livestock. not that his mother was a fan of him being friendly with the local farmers, saying it was beneath his father’s family and they had a reputation to uphold. besides that, there was danger to associating with the common folk because of what they were.

orion black was a successful businessman who amassed wealth through investments and commercial ventures, known even outside of their hometown for his fortune and contributions to various enterprises. orion wanted regulus to manage his estate and investments when he was old enough, although his mother was more worried about teaching him her own family’s ways, including inducting him into the family coven.

many still believed in witches, especially in such a rural area, and regulus’s family wasn’t safe from the persecution they’d face if anyone found out. it was a cult in a sense, regulus being brought up in the ways of the religion; worshiping and sacrificing to the the Horned One in order for their family to keep their powers. the old god was displeased when andromeda left the coven, withholding some of their powers for a time.

unluckily for regulus, this was when he fell ill, soon to meet an untimely fate. stricken with grief, walburga had done what magic she could, not enough to heal him but at least enough to resurrect him if all magical requirements were met.

she harnessed the power of a comet overhead, using its magic to reverse his death once it were to pass over again.

at least, this is how it was explained to regulus just before he died. he waited over a century after, sure that the spell had failed (and even if it didn’t, his loved ones were surely dead anyway).

that is, until he meets her.

she cares for his grave, scrubbing it clean and leaving flowers for him every week. she even gazes at his statue, talking to him as if he could talk back. regulus isn’t man anymore; only spirit, but even so he can see how beautiful she is and he knows she’s the most perfect human being to ever walk the earth. who else would care for someone they don’t know and keep his memory alive more than his family ever did?

one night she gifts him her aunt’s necklace, leaving it on his bust as an offering. he remembers her sweet words, explaining why she wanted him to have it and even murmuring that she wishes she could be with him. it’s then that he’s sure she can feel it, too– his spirit, and the way the two of them are drawn together, even with death and life separating them still.

his soul longs for her, wondering if the comet will pass by sometime before her life is over.

luckily, the night finally comes, and he can feel his awareness shift, being sucked below. once he was apart of the cemetery; apart of the breeze, just another spirit among many. but now he can feel his awareness being siphoned down, pulled into blackness, and then he’s there.

everything is dark, but he can feel his body. he’s almost not sure if this is real, but the weight of the ground is pressing down on him and it’s only because of magic that animates his body that he has the strength to claw his way from the dirt without suffocating. it takes some difficulty, struggling to reach the surface, but he eventually pushes through the ground, emerging from the soil and dragging himself out.

he can breathe, but there’s a hollow feeling in his chest, almost as if he doesn’t have to because he’s dead. dirt falls off of him as he stands on unsteady legs, almost overwhelmed by his surroundings in the overgrown graveyard. the breeze is something he hasn’t felt on his face in over a century, along with the way air rests in his lungs. the moon is shining down on him, round and full, illuminating his tombstone and the bust his mother had made of him just above it.

he sees her necklace there, glinting in the dark, and shaky fingers reach out to take it, pulling it off for him to hold. it’s significantly nicer than anything on him, his old vest covered in chunks of soil and torn and faded. even the sleeves of his shirt are ripped, even though they were once elegant and of the highest quality white fabric.

he can feel salem through the necklace, as if a pulse of her soul is within it, her beating heart in his hand as he struggles out of the graveyard. her home isn’t far, through the forest and on the edge of a rural neighborhood. he knows because he can sense her, almost as if they’re connected. his mother always said he was the most psychic of the witches in their coven, but now it feels even more true, because his mind leads him directly to the woman he loves.

he crosses her yard, reaching the front door. he looks like a phantom on her porch, his skin even paler than it was when he was alive, smeared in dirt and grime. his black hair is caked with it too, to the point he’s almost unrecognizable. whatever state he was resurrected to, he knows he isn’t fully human. everything feels muffled and his body is cold; not like he remembered having flesh to be.

he’s sure he would be burned at the stake if anyone were to see him, a warning his family had given him time and time again about their magic. but he opens salem’s door anyway, using supernatural strength to break the lock and open the front door. he can sense her in the living space, just a few feet away, but he isn’t prepared to meet her beautiful blue eyes when he does. if regulus had breath it would’ve been taken from him, his cold fingers tightening on the necklace as he holds it out. / @ghstdoll

[starzzmissthesun]

drop the bartylus song explanations bestie (pls pls plssss plsplss)

Hiiii!!!! Sorry this a little late I've been a little busy the past couple days! This ones definitely gonna be a long one, but i might skip a few songs, so if their are any other ones you'd like to hear about lmk!! Some of these i associate with one of them in particular rather than both. The relation to them and the song is not necessarily what i interpret the song as, but just how it fits and relates to them!!! (also guys dont judge me for the music taste)

Trees-Mcafferty

So this one is very much like catholic/religious guilt, but is even just like being in a family and culture (like the purebloods, like the blacks) that is very very homophobic and strict. The first verse says "my mom was a christian, my dad is an alchie, i bet that he kills me", this to me is very regulus in the whole, walburga being someone who was brought up in a strict and 'be perfect' way, which she then puts onto her kids. And orion someone who is way harder on them, no room for repenting, just damnation. Though they both could represent this song, for they both had such controlling and strict home lives. I feel like it also, especially towards the ends of the song, talks about being different and "wrong" and a freak, feeling just so outcasted and trying to fit in, but never being able to.

If I Saw Him, Id Still Kiss Him-Mcafferty

This is veryyyy Barty's POV after Regulus died. It describes a house filled with ghosts and memories. Barty wishing they ran away instead "Lets go to italy, just you and me, i think wed really like it there", thinking that maybe regulus wouldnt have had the fate he did if they left the whole war behind. It describes the depression and loss of self/hope throughout the rest of this war. The verse from "took a picture of a picture" to "Get to New York for the sunsets" to me, describes how regulus had a different relationship to him than anyone else. I mean this song to me is especially sad if you think of it as they never really got together it was just an almost/what if?

Blue Eyes Like The Devils Water-Mcafferty

This is another Barty POV song to me, but its overall just a description of them being in bad situations and them falling for each other was just making everything better and worse at the same time. This shows how they were kind of raising themselves, both parents ignoring them so long as they do what theyre supposed to. It's just the two of them kind of deal.

The Lions Den-Mcafferty

Another song about them going down together, Barty POV again too. He sees Regulus falling more and more into this dark obsession and going down together. I especially think of the lions den as The Cave, especially in a Barty went with him Au. Him watching regulus getting pulled down everywhere, in his dreams, in real life, hallucinations. "I still remember his eyes on mine" The guilt consuming him, wishing he went with him too. Going crazy because of it "Let me break, let me slip to the bottom of this hill, let my body fall into the pit, into the lions den" and "this is just a bad dream, everybody wakes up soon" convincing himself its not real, that one day hell wake up and regulus will be ok, so everything is. Or the "waking up" is death, he wishes to fall under the water aswell, to die, to be at peace with regulus.

Alligator Skin Boots-Mcafferty

This song is regulus when he's had his change of mind, when he's decided to sacrifice. It starts with him kind of comparing himself to his parents and their complacency and their being messed up. Then from "Im cold to the touch" to then end, is him in the cold waters dying, for his friends who are now in the order, and hoping the others will be safe once the war is over, too.

Pine Point-PUP

Ok so this ones very special to me for them! To me, its them both looking at each other as they go their own way once they've lost each other in the war. "where i kept my eye on the prize, it was you" Barty going crazy after loosing reg, Regulus seeing barty get more and more into the death eater stuff right as he is changing his mind. They have such a intertwined history and memories. Now they're both praying they're doing right for the other, and that the other is doing something right. Bonus points for this song: mentions of loosing an older brother, also just like an awesome breakdown riff.

Just gonna saying im not gonna go into the pheobe bridgers ones rn cause soo many of her songs are them (specifically reg's pov in my mind) but if anyone wants me to, lmk.

Geyser-Mitski

This is the yearning for your best friend song!!! Like just being like, "is this not enough? i have everything, yet i still want to be more with you" To me, its so them cause of the "ive turned down every hand that has beckoned me" cause i think they never would even consider being with anyone else, its JUST the other for them. And also "I will be the one you need, i just cant be without you" is their obsession and need to be with eachother, and the way they idolize each other, the need to be congruent. The whole song just describing a love so strong it builds up inside you, it calls to you, but pushing it down ruins you from the inside out.

Old friend-Mitski

This is in a scenario where they've broken up(which would never be by their choice imo). Idk i feel like if they ever broke up, itd be similar vibes to these lines: "I havent told anyone, just like we promised, have you?" "everytime i drive through the city where youre from i squeeze a little" "Ill take anything you give me". Do you see the vision?? Drowning mention too!!! It's more of a mentally/emotional drowning(like in depression/insanity, etc). in my mind the "someone whos loves me now, better than you" would be less of a literal statement, and more of a hope or a wish. Like they each would be unable to be together because they each have to be with a person who is "better" for them, since they enable each other to be really themselves. It's denial that they actually want the love the other gives.

Me and my husband AND two slow dancers-Mitski

Literally regulus as he's drowning in the cave. He's remembering barty, all of their shared memories, and praying that theyll "stick together" like they always have. Two slow dancers, maybe his afterlife. Or his last thoughts that lull him to "sleep". In the chaos of the hands and air squeezing out of his lungs, hes brought back to a memory of them. They both wish they could go back to before the whole mess, "to think that we could stay the same" hes criticizing himself for hoping the two of them could join this war and stay as they were.

I will-Mitski

ok, picture me this: regulus lives AU!! Maybe Barty went with him, or found him, or reg goes to him after the cave, but nonetheless!!! He's weak, hes scared for defecting, theyre both at odds. But all Barty can do is take care of him, and reassure his fears, though he, himself, is feeling those as well. Just like listen to the lryics:(((

Crack Baby-Mitski

This is Regulus watching Barty get more and more obsessive over Voldemort, as he's slowly doing the opposite. Reg knows Barty doesn't notice and doesn't know why he craves this approval, but Regulus does, he can tell. "With wild horses running through your hollow bones" that father figure voldemort is to barty is something he need so bad, its unstoppable. Just like that, dark magic, the murder. He caught a taste of it, and he can't go back.

Once more to seeyou- Mitski

(starts shaking) They can't be seen together, not just the homophobia of the time, and pretentiousness of their families, but their families hating each other. "but with everybody watching us, our every move, we do have reputations" GOD tell me that's not them!! They are both in such "important" families, for two opposing beliefs, that taught them they must hold themselves to high expectations to keep up the family name. Everyone's eyes are on them both!!! Rumours start easy!!! "and felt the taste of you bubble up inside me" Having so much love for each other, but having to hide it!!! It destroys you!!! Having to hide your emotions and wants not just in public, but to your family as well, and just wanting and yearning for the fairytale domesticity!!!

Im your man-Mitski

Everyone's like, this is barty to reg. NO!!! Its regulus to barty!!! REGULUS was the one who grew up in the pureblood culture/beliefs, he might've been the one to convert barty, to introduce him to it. i could quote the entire song, but i wont... BUT!! This is, to me, Regulus towards the end of his life. He's changed his mind, and now he sees how he destroyed Barty, how he guided him to voldemort, and told him all of his beliefs. How, in his old, skewed view of the world, he was "turning" barty away from what he now saw as the right way. He wishes barty chose someone else, who wouldnt've done that. And now, standing at the edge of the water, he can feel his death, his fate coming close. He knows that it was his choice to be so horrible. And now, after leading barty astray, hes leaving him there, hes betraying not only voldemort, but the love of his life.

The frost-Mitski

Barty's all alone. All of his friends are dead, his family is gone, regulus is missing and betrayed him. "youre my best friend, now ive no one to tell, how i lost my best friend" he not only lost regulus, he lost the only person who would truly know how he feels about it. He feels resentful towards regulus, not for betraying him, but that he was never told!! did he forget? did he think he wouldnt understand? Did something change? Did nothing change and he never really knew Regulus like he thought he did? Should he have seen it coming, but he was to busy pretending everything was ok? "but me, i was hiding, or forgotten"

Heaven-Mitski

Either one of them POV reminiscing over the last time they were together, regulus before his death, and barty after regulus' death. Equating their love to heaven, the love they have for eachother is religious. Very love song by LDR. Both sensing their fate coming near, the calm before the storm. Regulus knows hes going on a self sacrificing mission, and barty knows his mind is unraveling quicker and quicker as the days go on.

When memories snow-Mitski

"and if i break, could i go on break? be back in my room, writing speeches in my head" Barty is crazed with guilt, hes breaking. Hes replaying the last conversation, moment, argument, touch, glance, anything he had with regulus. Looking for anything different he could have done instead that wouldve changed the outcome. His memories are mixing together, he cant remember what actually happened and when. Those memories snow and they obscure his view of reality.

Early sunsets over monroeville-MCR

STOP!!! Barty is grieving!!!! "running away and hiding with you, i never thought theyd get me here." him staying down low enough that he wasnt suspected to be a DE, he ran away from his dad to be a DE. He thought they could never find him, and now his soul is close to being taken from him, til hes nothing. all he has left are jumbld memories. "but would anything matter if youre already dead? and should i be shocked by the last thing you said?" The betrayal means nothing, for regulus is dead, who is he supposed to be mad at? and maybe he shouldve seen it coming, maybe there were signs. He can never go back. "and in saying you loved me made things harder at best, and these words changing nothing as your body remains" Regulus loving him makes the hurt only worse, and admitting that to himself hurts even more. No matter any scenario in which he said something different, where he begged regulus not to go, or that hed leave with him, or they never joined in the first place matter, because regulus is still dead, his body is still at the bottom of that lake.

Living legend-Lana Del Rey

This is Regulus POV!!!! He worships Barty, he idolizes him. "..all the things you do, and the ways you move, send me straight to heaven." He regrets never telling Barty just how much he loved him, and he regrets having to betray him "and darling i never meant to defy you" This is set to me, once again, once hes changed his mind and is going on his mission. "I never meant to be bad or unwell, i was just lving on the edge right between heaven and hell, and im tired of it." trying to balance how he feels about barty once hes switched beliefs, he still is utterly devoted to barty and loves him, but they now have these huge opposing beliefs. and he cant help but blame himself. That part right after the last chorus that is just "why?" over and over and over again.

Mojo Pin-Jeff Buckley

This song is literally describing still feeling your lover there, long after they are gone, and feeling conflicted about how you should feel. "Dont want to weep for you, dont want to know" maybe barty is conflicted, he doesnt want to know what happened to reg or why, he knows he wont like the answer. he doesnt want to accept regulus is gone, and he doesnt want to accept why hes gone. "oh the welts of your scorn. my love, give me more, send whips of opinion down my back, give me more" Barty has now changed his mind, he realizes that he would rather know, he would rather regulus had gave him reason, then he couldve gone with him, and maybe he wouldnt be dead. As long as he's still getting something tangible from his lost lover.

Oh my GOD!!! go listen to ghost of you by My Chemical Romance, every single lyric is barty after regulus died, im not doing this one, cause id have to to just say every line, but PLEASE look at the lyrics and think of them!!! JUst some of the lines are: "if i died wed be together", "all the things that you never ever told me", "ever get the feeling that youre never alone?", "And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me" like please somebody help barty!!!

Yours, mine, hours-mcafferty

So, first of all, this song switches from regulus' POV to barty's at the lyric "and i wrote all of my songs..." just to be clear. Regulus wants to be the perfect son for his family, and he takes it too far in the process. "and you are innocent, at least you wish you finally were, you gotta keep your head up, but not too high, cause youll lose sight of what youve got" He doesnt realize barty is in the DE stuff just as deep as himself until hes changed his mind. "and im sorry, my love, that i ruined what we had" hes betraying barty, hes abandoning them. Then every line from bartys POV is just perfect. "he says 'i miss my brother, but hes not coming home, and i know that hes better, so its tie to grow up'." i mean COME ON? "you were my best friend, so i will love you 'til the very, very end" They both have so much guilt and regret and have wronged each other, but they still cant bring themselves to hate each other.

Anyways! im done for now!!! but if anyone wants my thoughts about them (about anything really) in relation to a song lmk!!it doesnt have to be angsty! also sorry if this is long and doesnt make sense:/

[ellieclaireblack]

sanctuaire | sanctuary

sanctuary | noun your safe and peaceful haven a comforting place of refuge and rest in a noisy, chaotic world

{brother's best friend | fem!reader x james potter} ⪼ word count: 2k ⪼ warnings: mentions of abuse 

part one: back home

story: sanctuaire | sanctuary

playlist

Kreacher was calling for me. Again.

“I'm coming. I’m coming” I made my way down the stairs into the dining room of 12 Grimmauld Place. 

Today was January 4th 1976. Christmas Break was over and we would head back to Hogwarts. We consisted of Regulus and me. Since Sirius ran away during the holiday. An act I still didn’t forgive him for even though I understood why he did it. From the day he’d been sorted into Gryffindor my twin had a hard life. 

Walburga, Orion and Reggie were seated at the table when I joined them. 

“Good morning, father, mother, brother.” I greeted them politely and sat next to Reg. 

“Bonjour mon cher [Good morning my dear]” Papa greeted me in French. Walburga just looked up and nodded at me. Regulus opted for a small smile.

Out of my parents I loved my father, but Walburga was directly spit out from hell. Papa just never said anything against my mother. However she was rarely present anyway. The days she was home were horrendous.

Everyone tended to their meals and silence filled the room. That’s how it was: no talking at the table. I was glad to get back to school today. 

I missed my friends and I missed Sirius - even though I was still mad at him I longed to talk to my twin. He’s always been the person who understood me best. There was a lot unresolved between us. His unannounced departure during a stormy winter night made life at home a lot harder.

Walburga blamed me that the heir of ‘The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black’ vanished and let her anger out on me. A few spells turned into dark curses and several bruises covered my skin. Papa didn’t do anything against her but I know that he sent several house elves to patch me up when she left me in my room in agony.

“Children get ready. We’ll aparate to the station in 15 minutes. Your mother won’t be joining us, so make sure to say your goodbyes.” Papa said, ripping me out of my thoughts.

In my room I stuffed the last few things in a bag. Kreacher would aparate my belongings to 9 ¾. I grabbed my Slytherin robe, the Prefect Badge glinting in the light. My parents had been pleased when I got it, except when Sirius didn’t get one the mood in our house shifted quickly. I can still hear his screams of that day faintly in my head. I shake my head, trying to rid my mind from this particular memory. One last look in the mirror and I headed downstairs again.

Papa and Reggie wait for me already and we smile at each other. The first real smile all day. We each grab an arm that Papa offers us. Everything turns black, my body tightens up and just before I think my airway caught up we are standing on Platform 9 ¾.

“I wish you a good second term, my loves. Make sure to write. I’ll miss you. Bon voyage. [safe journey]” Papa pressed a kiss to both our heads and I couldn’t resist hugging him. Though half of Hogwarts was aware of our presence he hugged me back.

“I’m so sorry for what she did to you and that I couldn’t help you more y/n. Je t’aime. [I love you]” 

“Je t'aime aussi papa. Ne t'inquiète pas, ça va aller. [I love too, Papa. Don’t you worry I’ll be fine.]” All the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes were forced down. As a child I was always expected to keep my feelings inside, so that’s what my siblings and I were exceptional at.

“Watch over one another and make sure Maman doesn’t find out you’re talking to Sirius. Also tell him I’m sorry for how things went down, that I miss and love him. Go now, I’ll see you soon.” 

He disapparated and Reg squeezed my hand. We made our way to the Hogwarts Express and parted ways, both of us in search of our friends.

“y/n/n!” I hear a shout. Turning around I spot my best friend. Florence Clarisse Rosier - older sister of Evan Rosier and my roommate. She’s running towards me and tackles me into a hug. I suppress a wince, when she squeezes against my bruises. “We’ve already secured a compartment, come on.”

With ‘we’ she was talking about Adam Cygnus Travers and Theodore Lewis Nott. The two boys completed our friend group and we were known as the ‘Slytherin Royals’. All four of us descended from families of the Sacred 28 and had quite the reputation.

I greeted the boys with a hug and we talked about our holiday. I swiftly left out the subject of Sirius, but they knew. Walburga officially declared Regulus as the new heir of the House of Black, every Sacred 28 family knew what happened with Sirius. I saw their worried faces and uncertain looks, the eye-contact between them. No one dared to touch the subject.

I was relieved to to go to the Prefect meeting, so I could escape the unease. On my way there I passed a compartment Remus Lupin was currently exiting. Quickly glancing inside I spotted my twin, James and Peter. Sirius and I held eye contact for a split second before I turned my head away. I could see the disappointment in his eyes. My heart clenched. I really missed Sirius, he was my other half. We've never gone so long without talking.

“Oh hey y/n.” Remus greeted me only noticing now that I stood next to him.

“Hey Rem. How was your holiday?” We continued to talk while heading to the front of the train. Remus avoided the subject Sirius and I was thankful for it.

At the meeting we got handed our new patrol rounds. I was paired up with Remus or Lucinda - Lucy - Greengrass, which I was quite content with. Lucy was pretty nice. I wouldn’t call us friends, but conversation between us flew easily.

Later back in our compartment I put my feet in Theo’s lap and he absentmindedly began to massage them, while I read a book. My grades were extremely important to me, even more to my mother. So I wanted to get a head start on this semester's material.

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When we arrived at the Great Hall - everyone was exhausted from the long journey. We were happy when Dumbledore held his speech and the food finally appeared. 

During Dinner I felt several pairs of eyes on me. I knew it was the Marauders. I didn’t meet their eyes. The Great Hall was definitely the wrong place for the conversation me and Sirius had to hold. For now I was still too angry at him to have a level headed talk with him.

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After dinner my friends and I spent the evening on our couch in the common room. We’ve claimed that couch as ours and no one dares to sit on it, except when they’re invited to do so. Our evening was spent talking some more and when all of us got tired we made our way upstairs, wishing the boys a good night.

Unlike the Gryffindors, Slytherins had to share their space only with one other person. The shared space is only a bathroom and a small lounge room. Everyone has their own bedroom. In my case my dorm mate is Flo. She’s been my best friend since day one. With her lively nature, she draws the attention of an entire room to her. She’s the kind of girl who’s friends with everybody. 

In first year she would drag me into her world. I always loved the attention, just like Sirius. It was something we rarely experienced as something positive and at Hogwarts everyone seemed to like us. Naturally. We were somewhat celebrities in the Wizarding world.

Before going to sleep I put a silencing charm around my room. I had always had quite the share of nightmares, Sirius used to call them night terrors, that’s how bad they were. Since he was gone there wasn’t a single night where I wasn’t plagued by a nightmare.

────────────────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ──────────────────

A scream tore through the dark. My own. My skin was covered in sweat and I suppressed a shiver. 

Only one thing helped me get back to sleep after a nightmare. My brothers. I couldn’t go to Reggie though, he had been through enough during the holiday and it hurt me to see him suffer because of me. So Sirius it was, I knew he wouldn’t question it even though we weren’t talking currently.

As quiet as possible I made my way to the common room. Empty.

I wasn’t really scared that a teacher would catch me in the corridor. Us Slytherins - especially the children of the Sacred 28 - had Professor Slughorn wrapped around our finger, so I wouldn’t even face consequences.

As a Prefect I knew all the Passwords of the different houses so getting inside the Gryffindor common room was dead easy. The common room was empty as well and I tiptoed up the stairs.

The door to the boys’ dorm slightly creaked slightly when I opened it. "Sirius, Sirius!" I whisper yelled into the dark and quiet room. But no response from my twin-brother. A sigh escaped me and I was just about to go back to my dorm when I heard a whisper.

"y/n, is that you? Are you alright?" It was James. "Yeah, no I-I'm fine." Obviously my best friend sensed the lie and ushered me to come over to him. I sat down on his bed and before I could protest he pulled me next to him.

The moonlight that shone in the room made it possible for me to see his features. That meant he could also see my face and the shed tears on my cheeks. 

"What's wrong y/n/n?" "I’m fine. It was nothing, just a nightmare, it's fine. I’m fine. I just wanted to talk to Sirius."

"Sounds like you’re fine. Hey, you don't have to lie to me. I know how bad your night terrors are and it's rare you seek Pads' help in the middle of the night. So it must've been really bad."

I mumbled "okay you're right" in response. James put his arms around me and pulled me into his chest. Feeling his body heat seep into me I felt like I could finally breathe again and let out a shaky breath. James put a silencing spell around the bed so we wouldn't wake the others.

"What's going on? Why are you avoiding us? Did something happen?"

Tears were threatening to spill again. "It's my mother. J she's never been this bad or this angry. They told us it would have consequences if I spent time with you guys."

"Oh y/n, you should've gone with Sirius when he came to me, I was really worried about you the whole holiday. I didn't hear a word from you."

“I just couldn’t leave Reggie alone. Also I don't want to leave Papa, would be so lonely without us. Besides, Sirius didn’t even tell me he was leaving. One morning he was gone and I had to face Walburgas anger. I get why he left. Still we’re his siblings for Merlin's sake. He could've at least said something.”

Now I was really crying. James wrapped his arms even tighter around me. "I’m so sorry. I didn't know it was that bad or I would've gotten you out of there myself. You and Pads definitely need to talk tomorrow."

We talked for a little while, when I noticed James started to get really tired. His eyes fell shut every other second and he was trying hard to keep awake.

"Mind if I stay the night Jamie?" "Of course not, sleep tight, love." "Good night James." I whispered but didn’t get an answer. James had already fallen asleep and in the comfort of his arms I was finally able to go to sleep too.

author's note: so first chapter of my new story. thanks for reading this far! i'm not 100% sure how to feel about this for now. there's definitely going to be more james later, but i needed this as an entry point for the story so you have some background information. also i just wanted to put out there that english isn't my first language. i proof read the chapter, but if you spot any mistake don't fret to tell me i love you guys and wish you a gread day/afternoon/night where ever you are ♡︎

[alltheyoungmoons]

the ghosts of my memories won't let me sleep

Rated T, 2.1k words - Summer of 1995. Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, has become the new base of the Order of the Phoenix, but Sirius finds it hard to fall asleep on his first night there.

The clock in the drawing room chimed thrice, the sound shattering the mortiferous silence of the ancient townhouse. Sirius heard it all the way from the kitchens, in the basement. He hadn’t set foot in that house, or in Islington for that matter, for twenty years, twelve of them spent in hell. He thought he quite deserved a drink to celebrate the unlikely return, and remembered very well where Orion stored his liquor collection. Kreacher had caught him tinkering around that cupboard several times, the young boy mesmerised by all manners of fancy bottles and delicious-looking liquids. He produced some ice with his wand inside of a fine crystal goblet he plucked from the mantle top and poured a healthy dose of aged Firewhisky that must’ve cost a fortune, stirring slowly. He brought the glass to his lips, inhaling the smokey, rich smell of the alcohol. He looked down and sighed, and placed the goblet back on the table. With a tap of his wand he transfigured the goblet to a mundane-looking Old Fashioned glass.

“Much better,” he muttered to himself, and went for the stairs. 

Sirius, for all his misfortunes, had never thought he’d be back in this house. He hadn’t thought twice about giving it to the Order, relishing in the fact that their parents would be rolling in their graves if they knew. It had been the easiest decision he’d ever made. He didn’t think he’d be forced to stay there, though. He’d take his cell at Azkaban or a frigid Scottish cave over his childhood bedroom any day. Thankfully, Remus was there with him.

He planned to nurse his drink on one of the library’s sittees, hopefully with a useful read in hand. He felt wide awake, adrenaline coursing through his veins just like after a duel, or a flight, or a quick shag. If he couldn’t sleep, the least he could do was keep his mind occupied. 

He was deep in thought when a rotting step whined under his foot, and he looked up, flinching instinctively. 

He was in front of his mother’s portrait, the curtains drawn wide open, but she wasn’t screaming, as she did that morning, when he, Remus, Moody and Kingsley breached the entrance of Grimmauld Place after a decade of abandonment. 

Instead, she looked at him gravely and with disdain, her mouth a tight line. 

In this silence, Sirius had the chance to properly see her. She wore her mourning dress, black cap and veil to cover her silver hair that matched the gray in her eyes, the same that were looking back at her now. She was so different from how Sirius last remembered her - a beautiful, regal woman now turned old and bitter, her hateful scowl forever impressed on her once smooth skin in deep wrinkles. 

He broke the silence first. “Hello, mother,” he said, tilting his glass towards her in a sort of cheering gesture.

She didn’t bother to look him in the eyes, her gaze wandering out of frame. “You’re no son of mine.”. Her tone was flat, indifferent. 

“Believe me, I’ve spent the better part of my life hoping just that. But alas,” he opened his arms as if to show off his surroundings, shrugging “The house opened for me. So.”

No response. Walburga kept staring off into the distance. Sirius wondered silently what she could see within the dimension of the frame.

“Guess you didn’t disown me after all,”

“Well, You won’t catch me complaining about it. It’s been pretty useful lately.”

“The inheritance, I mean”,

“Turns out being put in prison for twelve years is an excellent savings plan.”

Sirius saw her eyes dart to him for a moment. He wasn’t sure if it was the mention of Azkaban that did it, or the fact that he had the gall to bring up a subject so common as saving money. 

He took a sip, suppressing a smirk. 

There was a thrill in being able to talk to her without the fear of retaliation that was engrained in their every exchange since Sirius was ten. 

He still felt a little nauseous, though. 

“You were sent to Azkaban.” She said, then. It sounded like an affirmation, but Sirius knew better. His mother never did questions, only statements. 

Sirius nodded. He studied her reaction. 

Her eyes would’ve glinted if they weren’t oil paint set on canvas.

“Just like your cousin.” 

Sirius had been wondering when the comparisons to other members of the family would start, a fixture of Walburga’s chinwag. 

“Dear Bellatrix was there, alright,” Sirius nodded, circling the remnants of the ice around his glass. “The whole jolly company was there, eventually, the inner circle at least. Saw them coming in one by one. But I was there first.”

He looked up at her, and saw one of the corners of her thin mouth lift slightly. He was starting to enjoy this. He wanted to make her believe he’d recanted his belief in the end, and then pull the rug from under her feet. He wanted her to ask. 

“And I was the first out. First Wizard to ever do it.”

“I’ve been at large for the better part of two years now.”

“Thankfully no one can find me here.”

He winked.

Walburga sat up, straightening her already impossibly rigid posture. The shadow of pride swiftly passed on her features - Sirius recognised it immediately. He used to chase that impossible shadow as if it was his only reason to live. Before Hogwarts. Before he knew better. 

They studied each other for what felt like minutes, their stern features a mirror of each other. 

“How.”

Sirius rose to his full height. Not so much a question as a demand. Still, she had caved.

“Well,” he started, with a chuckle. “I tried to avenge my best friends’ deaths and was falsely incriminated because of the curse of the name that I carry! This title taints everything it touches like poison, it fosters animosity and mistrust, it follows like a haunting! The system this family helped to build sent me straight into the Dementors’ mouth without even sparing the thought of a trial, just because I must’ve done it, I must’ve been rotten after all, because I am a Black! First and foremost, forever scarred to drag around your filthy, thoughtless, sheeple beliefs with me even if I made extensively clear that I never wanted to be associated with you or the obscenities you preached! You were always so concerned about decorum and standing and reputation that you never noticed that all of those things had slipped from your control decades ago! Outside of your stupid Sacred Twenty-Eight circle-jerk everyone thinks you’re utterly mental!”

Twelve years of pure agony, of building a steady hatred for them and all they came to signify, had come out in almost a single breath, his tone clear but never loud, precise and cutting - he had learned from the best, after all. 

Sirius had never hated his family during his school years, and even after, during the First War, he tried his best to act like they never existed at all. Indifference was the best way to hurt someone, he knew that well. But in Azkaban there were no distractions, and he found that rage was an excellent companion, keeping his flame alive. He had been caught because of Peter, sure, but he was imprisoned without a trial because of his name. It was never going to go any other way. 

Walburga’s face had turned into a mask of blistering fury, huffing angrily, chest heaving - she stayed silent for a moment, and Sirius had to remind himself that she was a painting. He would not flinch. 

So he took another sip, smacking his tongue at the end.

Walburga lunged towards him fruitlessly, shrieking, her rage bound to the two-dimensional space of the canvas, starting off her usual tirade:

“Filth! Traitor! Coming here in the house of my forefathers slandering the name of the Noble and Most Ancient House in Britain! How dare you come back here, you scum! I knew since the day you came back from your first semester at Hogwarts that you were going to be nothing but a criminal! A degenerate! Fraternising with blood traitors and half-bloods! Having impure thoughts about them! You’re nothing but utter filth and I cursed the day you were born until I drew my last breath! Traitor!”

Sirius just stayed there, leaning along the rail, finishing off his drink and letting her words slide off him, like water off a duck’s back. There was something cathartic about letting his feelings explode like this, with no filters, even if it meant they’d probably have to endure Walburga’s shrill shouting for a while. The treat had not been without its consequences; still, better be subject to her incoherent string of slurs rather than one of her well-placed hexes. 

There was a sudden noise from up the stairs, and after a moment, a sleepy Remus appeared, in his pyjama, wand drawn. He stopped a few steps from Sirius, looking confused and disheveled from being woken so abruptly. Sirius looked up at him tenderly and smiled, and Remus let his arms rest down to his sides, donning a grumpy expression. 

“Merlin’s balls, Sirius. I thought someone broke in.” Remus had to shout over Walburga’s yelling to make himself heard.

Sirius couldn’t help but grin at him. “Couldn’t sleep, bumped into Mother. Thought it’d be rude of me not to greet her properly.”

Remus squeezed his eyes at him suspiciously. His gaze registered the empty glass and Sirius’ fingers nervously tapping on them. 

“You had to go and tick her off uh? What year is this, 1973?” Remus had stepped down a few and was now eye-to-eye with Sirius. He was studying his face in that way of his, as if gathering information and quickly making a log of it in his head. 

They hadn’t talked about it, exactly. They had a steady correspondence streak going since the summer after Sirius - and Peter - escaped, but some things couldn’t be committed to parchment. It was clear that they were both inclined to naturally fall back into their old ways, but so much had changed, and even when forced to share a bed - seriously what was Dumbledore thinking, just sending him there, no notice, as if Remus lived in a mansion, as if Remus wanted anything to do with him after all those years… it had been extremely awkward to say the least. 

And for all the free, comfortable beds that Grimmauld Place had to offer, Sirius still couldn’t sleep.

But the love was still there. They both felt it. If it was never going to be like it had been before, Sirius was fine with that. Remus was his oldest friend. 

Still, it was fun, sometimes, to slip into the old ways. 

“You know, I have an idea that would really aggravate her”. Sirius glanced at Remus’ lips and wriggled his eyebrows. 

Remus arched one brow and crossed his arms. “How many of these have you had?” 

Sirius huffed as if he were offended, but smiled. 

“Come on, help me draw the old bat’s curtains.”

“Fine, but I want a drink too, afterwards,”

“Fine, but can I sleep in your bed,”

They looked at each other, spooked, and then warily glanced at the portrait that was still mumbling angrily, quieter now. It didn’t seem to have noticed them.

Sirius was just bantering along, but the truth had its way of slipping out. 

Remus’ lips were parted, and his cheeks were flushed. Sirius couldn’t stand the buried pain in his eyes. He looked down, and whispered.

“Can’t sleep.” He found his gaze “This fucking house, y’know?”

Remus exhaled sharply, and nodded. 

“Sure, yeah.” He whispered back.

“It’s not really her, you know.” Remus added, still looking at him, searching.

“Yeah… yeah I know. Still. Felt good to take some things off my chest, I guess.”

“Might want try to piss off Phineas Nigellus’ portrait next. That one’s more animated.”

Sirius tutted “Remus, don’t give me any ideas.”

Remus smirked “Bet he loves an argument just as much as you do,”

Sirius rolled his eyes, but he was elated. It was the first time they had been able to joke between them as if no time had passed at all.

“Tease.”

They yanked the curtains shut, and tried a few silencing spells to boot. When they were done, Remus plucked Sirius’ tumbler off the railing and gave him a delicate shove.

“Come on then, Master Black. Show me where that cranky old elf keeps all the booze.”

[siriusblack-the-third]

Sirius Black: Family Relations

Third part of The Sirius Black Headcanons Series. Enjoy!

1st | 2nd

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Walburga:

Walburga and him... he used to love her. When he was a child, he was her beloved son, her little starlet, her smart and intelligent and brilliant boy. She doted on him, gave him whatever he wanted, was a good mother.

They used to spend time together in the evenings when Sirius did not have tutoring— Sirius would play the violin, and Walburga the harp. They were both obsessed with music, and all their discussions would reflect their vast knowledge about it. Sometimes, Walburga would teach Sirius how to weave magic into music, and Sirius was an excellent student. He picked everything up on the first try.

But as he grew older and started forming opinions of his own, Walburga started resenting him for it. He was not just similar to her in behaviour, he was exactly like her. They expressed their emotions in the same way. They argued in the same manner, they talked, walked, reacted, everything: they were exactly alike. Sirius, however, didn't have the same views as she did. He had different, independent opinions, and Walburga did not like it, and arguments turned their bond sour and hurtful rather than loving and safe.

Sirius started resenting his mother for trying to curb his freedom, for yelling at him, for not even trying to listen to him. He started disliking her because she refused to even consider his wants and his thoughts, and he started hating her when she called him a disgrace to the family, when she started calling him the shame of her flesh and blood.

And yet, they both still loved each other. They loved each other but could not stand each other's presence, and Sirius knew that distance between them was the best option for the both of them, and he ran away. Walburga blasted him off the family tapestry as a show of disownment, but she could not bring herself to disinherit him.

(a little drabble on Walburga's character)

Orion:

Orion was... a distant father. He was a barrister and a businessman, and was always off on international trips and client meetings, and was rarely ever home. However, he was a loving father.

Sirius' favourite memory of his childhood and early teens is Library Time with his father. Whenever Orion returned home from his long business trips, he would always spend at least one full day with Sirius, holed up in the library and reading books and exchanging opinions. Debates, discussions, queries and doubts, book recommendations, they talked about everything.

Orion was less rigid than Walburga. He understood that every human would have different opinions. Sirius would get angry at him for calling people Mudbloods, he would sharply remind Sirius that his was not the task to try and change Orion's habits. However, Orion never begrudged Sirius his views and values. In this, he was a Slytherin: better keep some subjects undiscussed, he thought, than lose his son because of his own foolishness.

Sirius respected Orion, to a certain degree. Orion was smart, sharp and shrewd, with a brain that could keep up with a thousand different things at the same time, and Sirius admired that intelligence. Walburga always said that Sirius got his brilliance from Orion, and Orion always said he got it from Walburga. Father and son's debates were always a treat to witness— both of them had extensive knowledge and both of them used that knowledge to their own gains. It was always a toss up who would win the debate.

Before Sirius ran away, he dragged Orion into the Library for the last time. There, he calmly told his father that it was impossible for him to live with people who were adamant on castigating him for his independent values, and that he was leaving the house whether the rest of the family liked it or not. Orion understood that Sirius was talking about Walburga, and promised him that he would be left alone. He also promised to keep Walburga away from him.

After Sirius ran away, Orion stopped going on business trips. He worked in London itself, and would spend hours and hours holed up in the library, thinking about Sirius. They still kept in touch; a letter or two, once in a blue moon, until Orion died.

Sirius attended his funeral under James' cloak, refusing to come face to face with Walburga even now. Orion might have been a distant father, but he was a loving one, and Sirius would miss him.

Arcturus:

Sirius' grandfather was the one who doted on him the most. He was Sirius' favourite person, and after Arcturus retired from the Wizengamot, they would spend the days together, going to bookstores, watching Duelling Tournaments and Air Polo matches, going to Quality Quidditch Supplies for the lastest brooms, going horse-riding. Whatever Sirius wanted, Sirius got.

Their Days did not stop or pause— the minute Sirius returned from at Hogwarts, Arcturus would kidnap him from his parents and they would spend the day going all over London, buying books that Sirius wanted and watching a match or two. Throughout summer holidays, they would spend at least two days a week together.

When Sirius ran away from home, Arcturus flat out refused to disinherit Sirius whenever anyone brought up the subject (read; Pollux and his wife).

The reason Arcturus did not try to get Sirius out of prison was that he was fully convinced Sirius did murder the muggles and Pettigrew. Of course, he thought it absolutely laughable that people would believe Sirius would ever betray James' trust, but he was convinced that Sirius did rip Pettigrew to shreds in revenge, and that the muggles were collateral damage. Unfortunately, laws about using magic on Muggles were rigid, and Sirius would not have been let go. (He had no idea Pettigrew was the one that killed the muggles.)

Sirius mourned his grandfather's death in prison, and visited his tomb after escaping.

Melania:

Melania died when Sirius was nine, but she doted on him just as much as Arcturus did.

She got Sirius his first violin at the age of four, and was his first music tutor. They would spend the early mornings on Tuesday and Thursday together, and Sirius was always determined and meticulous when it came to learning.

They would make a game of sneaking into the kitchens for sweets, giggling and shushing each other even though everybody knew they were aiming to steal the tiramisu that was meant for the evening. They baked together, and Sirius learnt how to cook from her— both Walburga and Arcturus complained that neither of them needed to know how to cook because they had house elves, but the two of them ignored mother and husband and did whatever they wanted.

Her death impacted Sirius very heavily, and he spent the weeks following the funeral shut up in his room, dragging his bow over the strings of his violin, playing with his eyes dripping tears and his heart aching, fingers bleeding red all over the strings.

Regulus:

Sirius doted on Regulus from the very start. He was the best oldest brother— always giving the last piece of chocolate to Reggie, combing his hair in the mornings, playing violin alongside Melania to get him to sleep, buying little sweets and books and trinkets for Regulus whenever he was out with his grandfather.

Regulus adored Sirius. He would follow Sirius around everywhere, babbling away about this thing and that, and Sirius would always entertain his rambling. They spent hours pranking everybody in the house, and Sirius would read bedtime stories for him.

Regulus was also jealous of Sirius. Sirius was smart, he was brilliant, he was strong and handsome and athletic and the apple of everyone's eye and Regulus.. was not. (That's a lie, everyone doted on him too, he just thought the world of Sirius and assumed everybody else did the same because how could they not?)

When Sirius sorted Gryffindor and Regulus Slytherin, things changed. Regulus made other friends, and he started to get annoyed at Sirius for his values just like Walburga. They argued and fought and turned away from each other, and over the years stopped thinking of each other as brothers.

It all came to a head when Regulus got the Dark Mark. They rowed for days, screaming matches behind closed doors of abandoned classrooms lasting hours on end till Regulus flounced off and Sirius was close to crying because his baby brother was destroying his own life and he had no idea what he had gotten himself into.

They stopped talking after that.

Regulus' body was never found, and Sirius did not attend his funeral. However, he did mourn the loss of his once-brother in his own way— he played all of Regulus' favourite musical pieces every night for months afterwards.