#when i learn to draw birds ill put them too 😭

[triplealemontime]

so uh another snake!!

they r so funky, i love them so much!!

um also one of my friends colored it with color pencil then i did pen

[blitheringmcgonagall]

I have just read your fic about Sirius finding Harry after Halloween 1981 and it is hands down the most beautiful and saddest thing I have ever read in my life. I hate you. I am still sobbing

And that it was inspired by @blvnk-art ‘s drawing of Sirius’s first day in azkaban makes it even more special

Yeah.. no, I have to agree.

That fic broke me to write it. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

It’s honestly so fucking tragic, for all of them. @theresthesnitch and @shes-a-gryffindor broke my heart with their versions!

It’s here anyway if you want to have your heart broken - seriously wouldn’t bother though unless you are an angst fiend 😔

It's Not the Cold that Seeps into his Bones

“What have I done?” he whispers incoherently, amid the rain, and the hissing smoke and stench of blasted flesh.

He’s coughing, and he finds it hard to stand, his hair is singed. He can hear voices screaming and crying in the background, commotion, the sound of muggle emergency services. The place is swarming with Aurors, taking statements from people and whisking grey, silvery material away for storage in the official Ministry of Magic pensieve. They move to obliviate, left, right and centre, shouting orders, the walkie-talkies in their hands are wands, their uniforms still transfigured to look like policemen.

He can’t see his own wand. He looks through the smouldering rubble and he can’t see Pettigrew, the traitor. The rat. He’s gone. And with him, his best chance of proving that Sirius Black is innocent. Why did he go after Wormtail? To avenge his nearer than brother, his loved like a sister, his Godson’s happiness? Or to put it off, this having to feel the loss, the grief?

To feel only anger, when the primary emotion is anguish?

A memory flashes unbidden - the end of Fifth Year in Hogwarts, the day after Snape nearly died because of The Prank, in Dumbledore’s office.

“You took an extremely ill-judged, impulsive and dangerous decision last night. We both know that Snape could have died, or been bitten, and Remus would never have been able to forgive himself. You need to learn how to regulate your emotions, Sirius.”

He had learnt nothing.

“What have you done?” growls an Auror, who Sirius recognises vaguely as a past pupil from his own house, who graduated a few years ahead of them. “You killed them, you killed them, and now you’ve killed another wizard and twelve muggles. Azkaban is too good for you, Black!”

He looks like he’s going to punch Sirius in the face, but he restrains himself.

“Take the bastard away, before I do something I’ll regret,” he says, between his teeth, to the three Aurors holding Sirius. His voice is cold.

💔💔💔💔

They take him to the Ministry of Magic, briefly. Take a photo of him.

Just before they do, an owl arrives. For him. He recognises the bird, and shudders. Its talons cruel, its beak pointed, its eyes grey. Walburga’s. The message is read out to him curtly.

“I have no idea what you’re playing at. I can only imagine you must have been involved in killing one of the best wizards the world has ever known, trying to save our heritage. How, I do not know. It horrifies me. My only comfort is the fact that you have been arrested for the death of the Potters. Clearly untrue. But it shall be of some solace to me, that, and your brother’s honourable death for The Cause. I dare say the Aurors will think you faked this message, they are fools. At least I shall not dread receiving news of you from now on.”

He laughs then, a soulless, bitter laugh, and he recalls Regulus’ face the night he left Grimmauld Place. His mother, of all people, is the only one who guesses the truth, that he is not the traitor. Oh, what delirious irony!

He sounds manic, slightly deranged.

The photograph is shot.

Continue on ao3.. (only if you want 💔💔💔💔💔)