#marauders era fix it fic

[kquil]

DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER TWO

02 : SHOPPING (1/2)

CHPT. SUM. : life isn't easy in the Black Family household, you need to get out, you also need a new wand. Sirius does too as well as a few other things; time to go shopping.

LENGTH : 5.8k

TAGS. : hurt/comfort ; tantrums ; fluff ; sirius needs a hug ; regulus needs a hug ; original walburga can eat shit ; orion can eat shit too ; reader being an amazing mother ; walburga deserves to get bullied ; floo powder travels ; diagon alley shopping time~ ; stupid wands ; arson ; goblin OC ; sirius being a sneaky baby ; regulus follows in his older brother's footsteps ; misbehaving things ; Ollivander cameo~ ; please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes for now, this wasn't really proofread (╥﹏╥) i'll go back over things later on!

← PREV. | 01 : ARRIVAL | SERIES M.LIST

7th August 1971 

It didn’t take you long to uncover the upsetting affairs of the ever proud Black Family. 

There was nothing to be proud of. It sickened you to witness the blatant disdain Orion had for his own two sons, neglecting them by leaving for work early and returning only to lock himself up in his home office. The bastard even overlooked his sons when he was present at home on the weekends and the few words he spoke when addressing them dripped with cruelty and ignorance. The only positive thing you could take from his absence, however, is the fact that the boys didn’t have to tolerate his silent callousness for long periods of time. 

But that meant seeing the effects of Walburga’s despicable conditioning of the two boys, which was far worse. 

It was clear that Regulus wanted to be favoured and compiled to his mother’s whims, desperately seeking her approval. Whenever his small, pale hands reached out for you, no matter how miniscule, you accepted with open arms and a warm smile. His precious look of surprise, and shy happiness at your unexpected acceptance, never failed to make your heart shatter, even more so that his reaction never seemed to let up. 

Before every apology, before every small request, before every word he breathed in your direction, there was an evident hesitance, a slight fear in his motions that made him freeze up for a moment. It was a consistent action that you hoped, with time, would disappear for good. You love having Regulus for your son but you don’t want him to do things just because you said so. In your previous life and before your dreams were shattered, the one thing you looked forward to about having children was the development of their own personality, the becoming of their own individual person. That’s what you want for Regulus, and Sirius too. But you know that Regulus was the main son who was deprived of that pleasure in the original timeline so you wanted to give him that extra bit of care. It was your responsibility, now, to give him that happiness.   

Sirius was the same. He wanted approval too, you could see it so very clearly in his piercing grey eyes – it’s an innocence he shares with his younger brother. There’s a glimmer of hope in his grey pools, hidden behind the need to protect Regulus and the mix of anger and sadness fostered by the horrendous parents he had the ill-fate of having. You want to bring down those walls but you know it’ll take some time. Nevertheless, you clung onto the hope present in his eyes and used it to cultivate your firm resolution, like a garden to the foundation of a new life and a new future. It was needed, especially when Sirius lashed out, his fury, dangerously ablaze like a forest fire set on destroying everything in its wake. 

It was no secret that the original Walburga expected nothing but excellence from her only two sons, so it didn’t come as a surprise to you that she had hired private tutors for them leading up to their official education in Hogwarts. They were to study French, Etiquette, Literature, Cursive/Calligraphy, Maths and all of the wizarding basics. All taught by private tutors that delivered material like stale bread on a plate and leaving them with the terribly tedious assignments in the most ridiculous amounts. You understood why Sirius worked himself up to such a tantrum. However, he was not setting a good example for his younger brother, who clung onto the long flowing skirt of your black dress and pressed himself against your legs for comfort. 

Tenderly, you combed your fingers through Regulus’ neatly permed hair, lightly scratching at his scalp while the two of you waited for Sirius to lose energy and simmer down enough for you to finally get a word in. It only took a few minutes but Sirius was soon left heavily panting, his expulsion of rage gone but still evident in his harsh glare and aggressive stance.

 Silence took over the room as you continued to hold his gaze, determined to handle the situation calmly but firmly and without any interruptions – you hope to God that your amateur imperturbable charm worked on the door of the room; it was the weekend, meaning that Orion was at home and he wouldn’t take too kindly to his equally hateful wife being screamed at by his disobedient son.

“...it’s not fair…” Sirius grumbles under his breath, pouting defiantly as his small hands ball up into clenched fists by his sides. 

“I know it’s not fair, Sirius,”

“Then—!” Sirius cuts himself off when you raise a brow at him, your mouth pressed into a tight, thin line. 

Some part of you understands why Sirius would lash out so aggressively; he was practically drowning under the workload he was set by his individual tutors, drowning under the expectations the original Walburga had set on him and he didn’t know how to express his frustrations. Along the way, you’re sure he’s bottled up his emotions and tried to get on with things, evident by the littered chaos of papers at his feet, marked by his neat handwriting. Such beautiful handwriting for such a young and troubled boy. With his deadline fast approaching and his assignments piled up to his ears, Sirius lashed out in the violent and wrathful way he’s been exposed to since birth. You want to be soft and comply with his demands but you know that’ll foster bad habits in him. Conceding now will only teach him that it’s okay to become violent when he’s frustrated and that it’ll work to help him get what he wants. But that is a false reality. And you will not perpetuate the illusion for him.  

He’s your son now, he’s your responsibility and you’re going to teach him well. So you stand firm but composed. You’re setting an example. It isn’t until you sense the fear of what may happen slowly seeping into Sirius’ much smaller frame, that you step forward and take action. 

In your slow approach, Sirius flinches and snaps his eyes tightly shut. His clenched fists slowly come up to shield his chest as his shoulders tense despite the visible shiver that runs up his frame.

A small voice calls out behind you, “Mother–”

“Regulus, this is between me and your brother. Please don’t interfere,” Regulus bites his lip into silence but watches on with fearful eyes. He wants to step in and hold his brother close, the same way Sirius has done to help comfort him many times before but, no matter how strong his will, Regulus didn’t move. Why? Was it the fear or… was it something else?  

Once close enough, you kneel down and gently grasp Sirius’ small shoulders. You try not to wince when he falters from your touch and tries to withdraw but your grip keeps him securely in place. Inhaling deeply and slowly, you begin to speak in a stable voice and with strength. It’s best to start from the beginning. 

“Sirius…” you wait until he meets your eyes, hesitant and afraid but stubbornly brave, “what’s wrong?” he sends you a look of exasperation, you can read him easily ‘why are you asking him that when he’s been screaming at you about it?’, “I will not listen or engage in any conversation with you if you ever speak to me that way,” you set the boundary and pause to make sure he processes your words clearly before continuing, “I will only listen if you talk to me like a normal person, if you just scream at me like that then I can’t help you,” 

Sirius wants to scoff at your words; how could he possibly trust you to help him if you’ve never been worthy of his trust? But he glimpses the image of his worried, younger brother over your shoulder and bites down on his sharp tongue. Regulus has grown a small but reluctant trust for you ever since the day you fainted. It was naive of him but Sirius could never fault his younger brother for anything. He’s always been the one with the softer heart between them so it was natural for Regulus to be more trusting. Deep down, Sirius wants to have that same level of give within him too. 

But it was hard. It’s hard to trust…

…that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, however. One prolonged look at his brother was all he needed to have the courage to put that trust forward. 

“It’s unfair,” he repeats, clearly this time.

“What’s not fair?” you prompt, your features softening along with your tone as Sirius wills himself to continue. You haven’t lashed out at him yet, you haven’t even threatened to launch a curse at him, that was a good sign. 

“All this work…” he gestures to the scattered papers he had thrown to the floor in defiance. Now, he looks towards them in shame and quickly diverts his gaze from the mess. 

“I see,” you hum as he looks onto you with eyes of wonderment, unable to comprehend that you were taking in his complaint so graciously – he isn’t used to this type of gentleness but he likes it…  “I’m sorry you’re under so much pressure to do this much work,” Sirius holds his breath as hope builds up within him, its light is radiant but he tries to ignore it, “I’m sorry it’s been so hard for you–”

“––I tried to do well!” Sirius defends, his eyes desperately searching your own for some form of understanding. It was your warm smile that eased his panicked heart… in some sense, he’s beginning to understand his younger brother; his mother looks far prettier when she’s smiling. 

“I know,” you cup his face with one hand and lovingly caress the skin of his cheek with your thumb, “you’ve worked so hard. Thank you for trying, Sirius,” you watch tears pool at his eyes and coo comfortingly as you bring him into your arms and tuck his face into your shoulder, “I’m so sorry, my darling. I promise to talk to your tutors about the workload,” your gentle assurance and unfaltering promise eases his worries and Sirius allows himself to melt into your embrace. You’ve never called him that before. And never in such a loving or warm tone. It makes his heart feel lighter and his breath stutters in disbelief. 

Can he keep you like this? He wants you to be like this forever. 

Sirius doesn’t know how long he stays wrapped up in your kind embrace but he’s brought back to his senses when he hears shuffling and quickly feels his younger brother being brought into the hug too. Lighthearted and optimistic about the world’s goodness, Sirius brings an arm around his brother, who reciprocates his actions, and the three of you stay there, basking in each other’s warmth and comfort. This is nice. 

“Regulus,” Sirius feels his brother stiffen up beside him, but only for a moment, it almost goes unnoticed before Regulus tucks himself further into your arms, “I’m sorry for the burden of work on you too,” 

“I-It’s okay, mother,” alas, his younger brother is too forgiving but Sirius knows it’s a trait that he loves his brother for. 

“Do you like the amount of work you’re doing?” you question, doing your best to keep your tone neutral and only slightly peaking in curiosity. 

Regulus pauses for a moment, contemplating his answer, “I wouldn’t mind less work…”

His answer makes you laugh, the sound feathery and light, it makes the two brothers stare at each other in wide-eyed disbelief. They’ve never heard their mother laugh before. It was obscure and strange but a pleasant sound, something that they want to hear more often from you. 

“Then it’s settled, I’ll be having a word with your tutors,” the two boys release a sigh of relief and you feel Sirius melt a little more into your arms, “so you can leave your work alone for next week entirely,” their shock doesn’t go unnoticed but you continue, “I’m so proud of both of you for working so hard,” you didn’t want to rush things but you couldn’t help yourself. Slowly and gently and with all the love you could muster, you lean forward and press a kiss to Sirius’ forehead and then do the same to Regulus. 

They were stunned into silence as a pink hue rose to their cheeks, their wide, unbelieving eyes staring up at you in the most precious way. They look so adorable; you want to capture this image of them in a photo to keep forever. You can practically hear their racing hearts trying to beat out of their chests as their eyes swim with a child-like astonishment and wonder. They’re just two precious little boys who deserved better than the miserable, tragic fate J.K fucking Rowling wrote for them. And you were going to stop at nothing to make sure their futures were happy. 

Warm with happiness, your soft smile remains as you gently usher the two into the living room to settle down and relax for the evening. However, the little bubble of merriment you had cultivated with the two boys was promptly ruptured by the sour, disgruntled face you happened upon as soon as you opened the door.

Tucking the boys’ suddenly tense frames into the folds of your skirt, you address the intruder, “Orion–” 

“What was all that racket?” he demanded, his voice booming and frightening enough for Regulus to begin shaking faintly against you. It made anger spike in your chest but, thankfully, Sirius was there to reach out and immediately begin comforting his younger brother. You made sure to keep the boys out of Orion’s gaze but it was no use, “Sirius! I know it was you! HOW DARE—!”

“We’ve already settled the issue so there’s no need to talk about it further!” you interrupt through clenched teeth, chest puffed out angrily as you hold the boys’ tense but trembling figures into your legs, hoping to calm them as best as you can. Curse that imperturbable charm! And curse that stupid wand! You haven’t been able to cast a single, functioning spell with it and your excitement for the world of magic had quickly dwindled into abhorrence, stemming solely from the stubbornly disobedient wand, “I’m sure you have a lot of work to do so excuse us!” 

You hurriedly lead the boys away from Orion and to the living room as Orion snarls, outraged at being dismissed so flippantly but confused over your sudden change in demeanour. For now, he settles on observing the changes no matter how subtle and returns back to his office. 

“THAT WAND ISN’T WORKING FOR YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT IT’S TRUE MASTER!” Walburga screams in your head and instantly makes you clutch your temple in distress. Settled in the living room sofas, Sirius and Regulus observe you with worry. Walburga doesn’t seem to know any other way of communicating than screaming and it has led to multiple black outs and fainting spells. It also meant that you kept having to drink the same disgusting healing potion over and over again and you were sick of it!

Seeing the same symptoms again, the two boys fidget in their seats, wondering what to do to help, “Are you okay mother?” Regulus asks as you muster a small smile. 

“I’ll be alright, Regulus, thank you,” your response isn’t enough to convince Sirius and he whispers something in his younger brother’s ear as you set to deal with the annoying bitch stuck in your head. 

‘Shut up you insufferable bitch, is inducing a headache your only talent?’ Your words and foul language make her sputter pathetically and it makes you laugh under your breath. Your moment of joy and satisfaction is short lived, however, as Regulus summons Kreacher just as you fall into darkness once more. 

The fucking bitch… 

8th August 1971

Because of that evil bitch stuck in your head, you had to ingest another phial-full of that horrendous healing potion. Not only that but the stupid wand still isn’t working for you. 

“How can I survive this hell hole if I can’t even use magic?” you grumble into the open air as the evil bitch cackles resembled the sputtering and coughing of a broken-down car, mixed with the discordance of an off-tune violin, erratic, grating and screeching. 

‘Can you shut up?!’ you shout in your head, already fuming, ‘Your laugh sounds like it could kill someone! No wonder you’re so miserable and your only sons hate you!’ that finally got her to shut up and you could think clearly again. Even though the situation was annoying, It made you snicker. Being able to bully Walburga into silence made those awful healing potions worth it. You’d drink a hundred healing potions if it meant delivering justice for you two boys. 

Now that she’s silent, you observe your desk. Thankfully, you also had your ownhome office. The previous Walburga had a planner specific for Sirius and Regulus’ studying plans, diet and calendars full of ‘X’s with small notes beside them on disobedience and the subsequent punishments. It was sickening and you wanted to burn the thing but you resisted. If you want to act convincingly in front of Orion and plan slyly, you need to know as much about the original Walburga as possible so you keep all her planners, journals and  scraps of paper intact. You’ll study their contents thoroughly in due time. You still have some major planning to do and you need to note down important dates to keep track of before you forget them. The start you’ve made has been decent, however, you know you need to rely on magic at some points and you wouldn’t be able to succeed in the current state of your wand. And it isn’t as though you weren’t able to cast magic; the first time you tried to cast a simple spell – the well-renowned ‘Wingardium Leviosa’ – you had set the flowers in the vase on fire.  

You need an excuse to go out. As the Patriach of the Black family, Orion had the key to the Gringotts Black Family vault so you can’t just go out haphazardly. You also weren’t comfortable with leaving the boys home alone so you need them to come with you if you can. 

With a sigh, you slump into the rigid desk chair and set about occupying yourself with mundane tasks. Perhaps if you indulge yourself in other, simple activities, you can come up with something creative. Stacking your messily scrawled notations of future plans, you begin to rummage through the desk drawers for a stapler or paper clip but come up unproductive. Nothing. Did wizards and witches not use basic stationary?... They had magic, yes, but surely… 

Your internal ramblings come to an abrupt stop when you spot a famed crest sitting above a deep red seal. The crest features four familiar beasts, a lion, a badger, a raven and a serpent; at the very centre was an ostentatious ‘H’ — it’s a letter from Hogwarts. And you were just beginning to suspect its potential contents. The seal has already been broken and the letter slips out easily. 

Words on the page read with nostalgia, it was as if you were watching the first Harry Potter film all over again and cheering at Harry’s liberation from his toxic aunt, uncle and cousin.  

‘Dear Sirius Black,’ it reads and your heart stutters in both excitement and anxiety, ‘We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.’

“Term starts on September 1st,” your eyes snapt to the desk calendar, which had automatically crossed off the days. It’s a little early but that just means you’ll beat the academic year rush. With a smile, you take out the separate list of necessary school supplies and pair it with a small list of your own. 

Perfect, you have your reason. 

9th August 1971 

Before travelling by floo, Kreacher came up to you and cast a simple dirt-repellent spell on you and your two sons. You were grateful for his foresight and thanked him graciously for doing so. Much like all the times before, your unexpected kindness makes the grumpy house elf falter clumsily but adorably as Regulus grins at your side and Sirius huffs with an exaggerated pout on his lips. He’s still ever so stubborn about the house elf but you’ve observed how Regulus has put in the effort to push the two together. You join in the gentle prodding through leading by example, treating Kreacher kindly and with respect. Bit by bit, Sirius has been following yours and Regulus’ lead. He’s not fully there but you smile at the little progress he’s made. It’s only been a few days after all and the results are optimistic, it makes your heart flutter and you look forward to the future with brighter eyes. Sirius had been buzzing with silent excitement all morning and Regulus was quick to join his older brother’s enthusiasm when you informed him that he was welcome to come and join you. 

You set off to travel by floo first so you can wait for the boys on the other side and so they’re not on their own not for too long. “Diagon Alley,” you announce clearly and without a shake of nervousness in your voice, only feverish anticipation. In moments, you’re engulfed by green flames. The world whirls around you in a dizzying blur of colours and sounds, the sensation both exhilarating and disorienting.

Unlike Harry and the Weasleys, you appear out of the subsequent fireplace without a spec of dirt on you and smile as you stumble out to await your two sons. The adrenaline rush of it all makes your fingers tingle and your head feel light headed but your smile only brightens. You still can’t believe you’re really here, sometimes.

Sirius came next and then Regulus. However, despite their earlier excitement, it appears as though their spirits were dampened just before travelling. Now, they stand before you with pouting lips and downcast eyes. 

“What’s wrong boys?” you ask softly, kneeling down to their level, it was purely out of instinct now. You meet them at their comfort as an equal rather than the other way around. It usually does the trick of consoling them enough to speak to you but this time is different. Their lips are tightly sealed. 

“We’re okay,” Sirius says in a tone that makes it seem as if he was trying to convince himself that. You want to press further but relent with a nod. It would be better for you to let them talk at their own time. Hopefully, being outside with so many charming shops dotted around, they’ll ease up and smile again. Pressing a brief kiss to their temples, you lead them out to the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley. 

The street was bustling with magic and mystery as you observe the scene with bright eyes. The atmosphere of the wizarding alley didn’t compare to the movie adaptations. It was much more charming and wondrous to observe in real life. And wasn’t nearly as claustrophobic as it was depicted to you. However, that may be due to the fact that you hadn’t left the school shopping too late and so the streets weren’t as congested as when Harry went school shopping for the first time. Nevertheless, your heart didn’t stop pounding in elation as you held hands with your two sons and set forth to your first destination.  

“Our first stop is at a very important place, okay?” on either side of you, Sirius and Regulus nod, still silent as you lead them through the streets. The air was thick with the scent of potion ingredients and freshly baked treats from the nearby shops, a symphony of sounds and smells, it was a little overwhelming but you couldn’t complain, the tenor of the climate was still very addictive.

As if summoning your first destination, your eyes were drawn to the towering structure of Gringotts, the goblins' bank. Its grandeur was a stark contrast to the quaint shops lining the street, making it stand out like a uniquely different gem amongst a cluster of little treasures. 

You walk forward with purpose now but still keep your strides short for the boys. Looking down you observe how they take in the environment around them, dressed like little princes with perfectly permed hair and glittering diamond eyes. Sirius had familiarised himself with the routine of the day, the first stop would be Gringotts to withdraw money to buy all of his school supplies, the second stop would be to retrieve his wand and after that, it would just be a matter of going down the list. It was a different plan to the usual fixed outline his parents were strict to follow in usual outings. Sirius would have been more enthusiastic if his father hadn’t forcibly pulled him and Regulus aside after you’d first disappeared by floo. 

‘Don’t even think about dirtying the Black family name while outside. If I even hear a single word of your misbehaviour, it’ll be an entire day spent in the vault!’

His father’s threatening words echoed menacingly in his head, his mind like an empty cave except for the haunting remarks that bounced off its despondent walls. The only way for his father to hear of any misbehaving is if his mother told on them but… Sirius chances a brief glance up at you, only to be met by your kind smile. Quick as lightning, Sirius looks away with a clench of his hand around yours. His mother isn’t like that now, though…right?

As the three of you pass windows displaying cauldrons, brooms, and a myriad of magical trinkets, Sirius’ mind raced with possibilities. What spells would he learn? Who would he meet? And would he make good friends with them? What house would he be sorted into?  He hopes not Slytherin, it was what his entire family had been sorted into but he doesn’t want to be like them – never like them. Would he be able to play Quidditch, his mother always used to say that it was too violent and rambunctious of a sport to be associated with. Will he like his teachers? Will he enjoy his classes? The future was a mysterious, unopened book, and Sirius, although slightly hesitant, still bound to expectations, was ready to turn the first page.

As you step through the towering bronze doors of Gringotts, a shiver of awe runs down your spine. The splendour of the entrance hall was breathtaking, with gleaming marble floors and towering pillars that seemed to reach up into the heavens – as opulent a building should be that holds secure a multitude of treasures and ancient artefacts whilst being guarded by a ferocious dragon. 

Goblins, sharp-eyed and meticulous, worked behind large, ornate desks – tall and domineering. Their long, dexterous fingers moved swiftly as they counted coins and scribbled in large ledgers, busy but happily so when surrounded by so much gold. The air was filled with the clinks of coins and the soft murmur of transactions, bank-speak, typical and not too far from the banks of ‘muggles’. High above, the cavernous ceiling was illuminated by shimmering crystal chandeliers, casting a golden glow over everything, fitting for the amount of gold glittering beneath it. It was a complimentary union, one that oozed lavishness. Even the air smelled rich and you wondered if gold dust was dancing in it too. The atmosphere was one of ancient power and impenetrable security, safe and anchored. As you walked further in, you could feel the weight of centuries of wizarding history envelope you, it was unmistakably a place where secrets and fortunes were both hidden and revealed. 

Approaching a vacant desk, you steady your breath and quickly recite your introduction in your head before elegantly performing it. You first drop into a low but graceful bow and repeat your greeting from memory, “Greetings Master Goblin, may your gold prosper and your enemies fail against your blade, I am Madam Black,” with bated breath, you wait for his reply, hoping that uttering your family name was enough. 

“Madame Black, I am Filgus. What can I do for you today?” the goblin hid his surprise well. It was unusual to receive such a polite and formal greeting from the Matriarch of the infamous Black family. The surprise was pleasant but also carried with it a fair share of warning. Odd behaviour never bode well. Filgus was determined to not let anything pass, his pride as a Goblin demanded it be so.  

“I would like to withdraw from the family vault,” you explain and hand over the key Orion had 

“Very well,” Filgus accepts the key and moves to dismount his desk, “follow me to the carts,” you’re immediately reminded of the movie scene, where the speed and twisting passage of the cart made Hagrid sick, even as a half giant. 

“Is it safe for the children?” you fret instinctively. Maternal instincts, a previously dormant part of your nature now expressed in the most spontaneous but opportune ways. 

Filgus snarls in offence but bites his tongue as best he could, “I assure you Madame Black that Gringotts is one of the safest establishments to exist in the wizarding world,” 

Not wanting to offend the goblin further, you nod with some hesitancy and keep your boys close. The fact that you worried for them made their little hearts flutter as their cheeks heated into a delicate pink hue. It was unusual for them to experience such care and worry but it still made them feel good. Turning to each other, they observe their identical reactions and bite their lips to keep from grinning too widely. 

The journey to the vault was as winding and twisting as you remembered in the films. It was equal parts frightening and thrilling. The experience was exactly like that of a rollercoaster but without as strict of a regard to safety. If only the path was better lit, maybe that would have made the journey a little more pleasant. 

“Here we are,” Filgus announces, stepping off the cart and politely asking for the lamp. You oblige and slowly follow him out of the cart, steadying yourself before you help Sirius and Regulus out too, “your key, Madam Black?” Filgus sets about opening your vault door as you turn to the boys and check their welfare. 

“Are you alright, my darlings?” you ask in a soft whisper, kneeling before them. 

In all honesty, Sirius had enjoyed the ride down, the twists and turns and perilous speed made his head spin in the most delightful sense but he’s grown to like you worrying for him more than that temporary thrill. So, with a pitiful look on his face, he shakes his head ‘no’ and slowly begins to stretch his arms open. 

“It was scary…” Sirius whispers, taking advantage of the cold underground temperature to make his voice shake in ‘fear’.

“Oh darling,” you coo softly and bring him into your arms, “it’s okay, you’re okay,” Sirius smiles into your shoulder and allows himself to cling onto you like he’s always secretly dreamed of doing. This feeling of safety and security was one he didn’t ever want to let go of. Over your shoulder, Regulus gapes at the affectionate scene and, although it goes against his moral code of lying, he musters up the sly courage his older brother so easily displayed. 

“M-me too, mother,” Regulus calls for your attention in a bashful whisper, “I was scared too,” your kind, understanding smile eases his nerves Regulus jumps into your arms as soon as you open up to accommodate his small frame. 

This didn’t count as misbehaving, right? Only they knew whether or not they were truly scared or not…

The bell above the door tinkled softly, happily announcing your arrival as you pushed open the creaky, unassuming entrance into Ollivander’s, the most renowned wand shop in all of Diagon Alley. It made you giddy just thinking about getting to meet the whimsical shop owner and wand artisan. 

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of wood and magic, a combination that seemed to tickle the very edges of your senses. Your fingers itched to grasp at wand, your nose scrunched up at the pleasantly ancient scent permeating the air and your eyes surveyed the room with an eager gleam. The shop was narrow and cramped, yet it felt infinitely deep, with towering shelves that stretched up into the shadows. Each floor to ceiling shelving unit was crammed with thousands of slender boxes, their organisation questionable but fitting for such an antiquated establishment. Dim light filtered through the dusty windows, casting a mystical glow over everything. The walls seemed to whisper secrets of ancient trees and magical cores, each wand holding the promise of a unique bond, waiting to be discovered and pledged to its chosen master. The air was thick with anticipation, and you could hear Sirius’ heart pounding with the thrilling but nervous realisation that among the wondrous collection of boxes, one held a wand that was meant solely for him. It would be special and unequalled to anything else – an incomparable affiliation

Mr. Ollivander, with his pale, incisive eyes emerged from the shadows like a wisp of memory, his movements as silent and fluid as a ghost, a jolly ghost supporting a fanciful smile. His gaze takes in your sons, to which he gives a thoughtful hum before fixing his stare onto you.

“Madame Black…” Mr. Ollivander observes you with open curiosity, peaking the interest of your two boys, their diamond grey eyes watching the interaction silently and with overflowing intrigue, “having trouble with your wand?” his quick deduction makes your breath hitch and your shoulders tense. The impish gleam in his eyes almost going unnoticed by you, “it’s very peculiar for a wand that has already chosen its master to change its mind, especially from a wand that’s so loyal,” he ponders aloud as Sirius and Regulus inch closer to your sides, clinging onto the fabric of your dress skirt as they heed Ollivander’s nebulous words with a hint of caution, “curious, very curious indeed... I could only think of one reason, an abstruse but entirely possible reason for such a contingency in a world of magic…” Ollivander leans forward and looks deeply into your eyes, his own dancing about in their search, for what, you don’t have a clue. But it feels as though he can see into your soul, the flicker in his eyes detecting the presence of another. He shakes his head, almost in disbelief but laughs merrily, easing the tension built up in the air, “not one, but two, I see…” 

Your heart shudders in your chest. Did he know? 

NEXT. | 03 : SHOPPING (2/2) → | SERIES M.LIST

A/N : i would like to say that i was planning to delay this chapter update for a day or two since i was an absolute muppet to myself and decided to switch up events in the plot and oc introductions last minute but, thanks to @urmomw4ntsme (amazing username btw (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )) and their message about being excited for the update, i was lovingly and innocently pushed into getting the update out on time ৻(  •̀ ᗜ •́  ৻) so thank you, my darling haha! i appreciate your perfectly timed, kind message. i hope you darlings enjoyed the read and forgive me for splitting this chapter up into 2 parts - i suppose i planned for too much in one chapter hehe~

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[my-castles-crumbling]

azkaban - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 275

The hallucinations were always the same. Brought on by lack of sleep or desperation or sheer insanity, Sirius didn't know. But like clockwork, every night, as the sun disappeared behind the thick clouds and the water crashed against the jagged rocks, Remus appeared in his Azkaban cell.

At first, he'd thought he was real. He'd collapsed to his knees, begging for forgiveness and for help and for some sort of comforting touch.

But fake-Remus had just given him the ghost of a smile, leaning against the mouldy stone of Sirius's cell, and watched him. It was torture. And the gut-wrenching realization that he wasn't real had made Sirius fling himself to the ground, crying out for James and Lily and Harry and Remus, because he knew: he was going to die there.

So it was odd, one morning, when Remus appeared with the sun. Because normally, he wasn't given the gift of appreciating the other man's beauty in the sunlight. Either way, however, he didn't react. Because he knew it wasn't worth it. It wasn't real.

Until Remus spoke. "Sirius?" he asked, eyes flooding with tears.

He'd never spoken before. Were his hallucinations becoming worse?

"Remus?" he asked, his voice hoarse with lack of use.

Realization hit him when a gentle hand reached out and caressed his cheek. It had been so long since he'd been touched in such a loving, soft way, that a tear slipped from his eye without permission.

"Are you real?" he asked desperately, more tears falling.

"Yeah," the other man breathed, falling to his knees. "I've come to bring you home.

And Sirius collapsed into his arms, sobbing with relief.

[ellecdc]

OMG I HAVE AN IDEA

What about the kids (mid Hogwarts) in like 3rd or younger (2nd?) Year and they invite hermione and ron and the Weasley family for Christmas and it's amazing and we see draco getting along w them 😭😭😭 and Hermione is the 'mom' friend so she loves hanging out w the other blacks and potters? and we see how nice harry and draco's friends are and it's just a heartfelt moment 😭😭😭

I'm a whore for Christmas and also fluff so YES HERE YOU GO I don’t even know if this is any good so I apologize if this isn’t really what you were looking for. I realize now there isn’t much interaction between the golden trio + Draco but this is my take on it 🫶 CBBH Holiday Special - Weasley, Potter, Black families

CW: mentions of past (parental) abuse

What's One More?

You and Sirius were pretty chill parents – at least you liked to think so. You never really spoke to your children like they were children, but rather like little people who had important thoughts and ideas. You let them express themselves creatively, which sometimes led to paint and marker prints lining the walls, or photo albums being plundered and cut up to create scrap books, or even the odd redesign of an old family heirloom portrait in the hall.

None of that wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed with a little magic.

What you guys could not budge on? 

Christmas at home with the family.

This was why when Draco sent a letter home during his 3rd year suggesting he may stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, Sirius thought your head might actually combust.

“What on earth is he thinking? He’s never spent a holiday away from us – why wouldn’t he want to come home?” You were yelling at Sirius as if it was him who suggested Draco stay at Hogwarts this Christmas. 

“I’m not sure love, maybe there’s a reason.” He tried to reason with you. He should have tried to keep his mouth shut.

“There is no reason good enough to break his mother’s heart.” You pouted, sounding disturbingly close to tears. 

And you all called Sirius the dramatic one.

“I’ll talk to him.” Sirius promised with a placating kiss to your temple.

So, Sirius sent him an owl basically along the lines of “hey mate, you’re tearing your mother apart here. It’d be sort of shady of me to let another guy break my girl’s heart so what the hell?”, to which Draco replied, basically speaking straight to Sirius’ soul. 

“I’m sorry, dad, it’s just that Theo doesn’t really want to go home this winter, and I don’t want him to be alone for the holidays.” 

My stupid lovely caring son, who raised him? Sirius wondered to himself. The answer was obvious. It was you.

Theodore Nott, son of Thoros Nott and the late Camelia Nott nee Rosier. His mother died under suspicious circumstances (which Sirius felt translated directly to “shitty ass husband”) when the boy was four, and Thoros Nott was able to avoid prosecution for his roles in the Wizarding War by offering intel on other prominent Death Eaters.

Azkaban or not, the man was an ass. Rumoured to have killed his own wife, Sirius couldn’t imagine he was much nicer to his only son.

The heir. 

Sirius felt sick...it was nearly painful how much he could relate to poor Theodore Nott.

“Did you find out why your son hates us?” You asked Sirius a few days later. You were obviously teasing, but Sirius didn’t miss the genuine concern in your voice.

“Yes, and actually, the reasoning for his absence this holiday is a direct result of him being your child.”

You placed the mug you’d been holding a little too roughly onto the table as you leveled a look at Sirius. “What are you on about?”

“He doesn’t want to leave his friend behind.” Sirius smiled kindly at you. He watched the contempt drain from your face.

“The sod!”

Sirius barked a surprised laugh. “What!?”

“That’s such an easy fix!” you exclaimed like everyone around you was sort of stupid (they kind of were). “His friend can come here! We’re already hosting the Weasley’s; Lily told Harry to invite Hermione too. What’s one more?”

What’s one more, indeed.

So that’s how Sirius, James, Lily, you, Arthur & Molly Weasley ended up on platform 9 ¾ to retrieve exactly eleven (11) children while Bill and Charlie waited back at the house with Remus, Regulus and the youngest four of the Potter/Black children.

“Hermione, I hope your parents weren’t too disappointed we stole you away for the holidays. They already have to part with you for ten months of the year.” You said as you served Lyra a portion of roast potato’s before passing the dish to your left. 

“They were a little sad, but they said they understood my excitement at getting the chance to spend more time with wizarding families.” The fourteen-year-old stated matter-of-factly.

“Well, perhaps the next time they’d like to join you. The more the merrier.” James interjected.

“You sure about that Prongsie? This table can’t take much more transfiguring to make it any longer!” Remus called dramatically from the opposite end of the table, as if they were in completely different rooms.

“Bugger the table!” James called back just as dramatically, “we’ll just get a new one!”

Sirius didn’t miss the nervous glance Theo shot towards Draco. Sirius remembered how nervous James’ boisterous behaviour with his parents made him – concerned that a lashing or crucio was just around the corner.

“Don’t mind them, Theo,” you offered quietly to the boy. Sirius took a moment to marvel the fact that you’d noticed too, and your mama-bear protection came out at the perfect time. “They’re idiots with zero volume control.”

“I HAVE PERFECT VOLUME CONTROL, VIX.” James screamed, causing the younger kids to squeal in laughter and bring their hands up to cover their ears. Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley’s all chuckled at the outburst as well – accustomed to James’ brand of goofiness.

“You get used to it, trust me.” Sirius offered quietly with a wink. Theo smiled gratefully at the two of you and seemed to relax somewhat in his chair.  

“I agree that the production needs to be tightly structured and coordinated Percy, but it also has to be fun or you’re going to lose your actors.” Hermione could be heard arguing with the older boy from down the hall.

"I cannot work under these conditions." Percy could be heard responding.

“You’d think this was a Broadway production of Sweeny Todd.” Lily muttered quietly to Sirius sat beside her.

“What’s a Sweeny Todd?” Sirius muttered back.

“What’s a Broadway?” James muttered from her other side.

“Purebloods.” Remus muttered from across the room with an eyeroll.

The kids wanted to make their own play for the adults - it was mostly the youngest ones, though Fred & George never could help themselves but partake in any potential mischief, Hermione was very excited to help direct the production, and Percy never could leave very much alone. The second Hermione was involved, Harry and Ron shoved their noses into it too, while Draco and Theo sat in the audience with the adults and far too many stuffed animals.

“I mean, were the teddy bears really necessary? There’s already a theatre worth of people here.” Theo commented what he thought was quietly to Draco, but he had one werewolf and four animagi with animal-like hearing, as well as Molly & Lily with tried and true mother-hearing in the room, so his comment was met with a round of laughter.

“Oh my gods, Draco, can we keep him?” Remus commented as he pretended to wipe a tear from under his eye.

Pink dusted the tops of Theo’s cheek bones, but he offered the room a shy smile.

Sirius thought it was like looking in a mirror: he imagined this is what Effie and Fleamont saw when Sirius spent holidays in this very home some nearly twenty years ago. A boy who was likely fun and eccentric around his friends where he felt safe, but reverting to the proper pureblood heir you were beaten into becoming around adults. 

Sirius sort of hated it.

As the little kids and the rest of the production made their way to the room, Sirius noticed James’ eyes on him. James offered him a kind smile that brought tears to his eyes, almost as if he was saying ‘I know, right?’ 

By the end of the holiday, the adults had almost managed to get Theo to shed his aristocratic persona with them.

“And how’s Minnie? Are you guys being nice to her? Make sure to set up some good pranks this year; gotta keep the old gal on her toes, it’s good for her health.” James said to the Hogwarts students solemnly at breakfast. 

“You did not just call Minnie an ‘old gal’, Prongs.” Remus chided from his place at the table.

“You both did not just refer to Professor McGonagall as Minnie.” Regulus added incredulously. 

“That’s her name, Reggie.” James answered no nonsense. “We earned that right when we graduated.”

“No, we earned that right when we graduated.” Lily corrected as she motioned to herself, you, and Regulus. “You lot should still be in detention for the crap you pulled.”

Remus, James, and Sirius all adorned their faces with a blissful sort of reverence as they thought back to their school days.

“We were awesome.” James said dreamily.

“You were awful.” You corrected.

“You’re our hero’s.” The Twins added in unison. 

“What in Godric’s name are you doing to them, Hermione?” Ron asked through a large serving of sausage in his mouth. 

Hermione, who was replacing small pompom’s into two kitchen whisks to hand back to three-year-old Stella and Leo, didn’t even spare Ron a glance as she answered sharply, “It’s good for their fine motor skills, Ronald.”

“Wha’s a fine motor skill?” He asked incredulously, somehow still with food in his mouth.

“Oh, read a book, Ronald.” Hermione huffed before her face turned sickly sweet as she cooed at Stella. “Good job, Stell!”

“Blimey.” Ron muttered as he turned to Harry.

“I can’t believe you’re all going to be leaving us again so soon!” Molly said tearfully as she looked around the room. “I like our having our table so full- FRED WEASLEY YOU GET THAT FURNITURE OFF THE CEILING THIS ISNTANT.” 

“I’m George, mum.” The twin said from his chair suspended on the ceiling. Sirius had to give him credit for looking as casual as he did whilst all the blood in his body was no doubt making its way to his head. 

“I DON’T CARE WHO YOU ARE, YOU’LL BE GROUNDED IF YOU’RE NOT DOWN IN THE NEXT 30 SECONDS.”

At the beginning of the week – the shouting, the threats, the energy, and the talking back that George (or Fred, Sirius still wasn’t entirely sure) just displayed would have had Theo pale in the face. Today, he just looked around the room quickly to ensure everyone else was in good spirits before joining in on the laughter.

Back on platform 9 ¾, you and Sirius decided to pull Draco aside. 

“Hey love, listen. I don’t want to embarrass Theo, but would you let him know we really enjoyed his company over the holiday, and he is welcome at the Manor anytime.” You spoke softly to your son.

“We mean it, Draco. The Potter Manor has, and always will be, a safe place for people to run to. If he needs somewhere better, somewhere safer to go, he’s more than welcome to come live with us.” Sirius added earnestly. 

Draco looked like he might cry before he threw himself into his parents’ arms, causing each of them to let out a surprised ‘oof’.

“I love you guys. I’m so lucky to have you – we all are.” Draco said, though his words were muffled from his place in the crook of Sirius’ arm.

“We’re the lucky ones, Draco.” You insisted as you stamped a kiss to his head.

The parents and youngest kids stood on the platform and waved as they watched the train disappear.

“It’s so odd.” James commented quietly.

“What is?” Sirius asked.

“How life works.”

Sirius looked at his mate who was still watching after the long-gone train hoping he would clarify. When it became obvious that he wouldn’t, Sirius elbowed him.

“How’s that?”

James finally turned to Sirius and offered him a smile that seemed to portray a mixture of grief, pride, and love.

“Draco is Theo’s James.”

Sirius watched as you dried your face and went about applying your skincare. 

“I can hear your mind turning from here, babe. What’re you thinking about?” You finally said, causing Sirius to look at your reflection only to find your eyes already on him.

“You’re sure you are okay? If Theo needs to move in with us, I mean.” Sirius asks. 

Your movements paused as your eyebrows migrated to meet in the middle – bemusement painting your features.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“We sort of decided we weren’t going to have any more kids.” Sirius explained. You snorted in response as your turned to face him, leaning back against the bathroom counter.

“Sirius, as long as I don’t have to push anymore out, you can have as many kids as you want.”

Sirius smiled immediately at you. “You sure we don’t already have enough?” He asked

Your smile grew to match his. “What’s one more?”

[lulublack90]

Prompt 10 - Reform

@jegulus-microfic May 10, Word count 458

Previous part First part

Regulus raised himself onto his tiptoes and lifted his chin. His lips were so close to James’s, he could almost feel them. And then James collapsed on the floor. 

“Fuck, James! Are you alright?!” Regulus dropped to the ground to check on him. James shook his head and blinked rapidly. 

“Yeah, sorry. Forgot to breathe.” He gasped as his lungs refilled with the air they’d been missing. Regulus looked at him disbelievingly. 

“You forgot to breathe? How do you forget to breathe?” James felt the colour flooding his face. He avoided Regulus’s eyes as he mumbled. 

“You were really close.” He looked up at Regulus from under his eyelashes to gauge his reaction. James was surprised to find Regulus shaking. Shaking with laughter. 

James pulled a face at him and tried to get back on his feet, but somehow his towel got caught under his knee and while James rose from the floor, his towel did not. Regulus squeaked, stared at him for a second and then spun around. James quickly bent and grabbed up his towel. But the moment, whatever it had been, was over. 

“I’ll see you later. Do you maybe want to meet here next week? I mean not in this room here, but in the other room here.” Regulus was babbling and didn’t seem able to stop, so James cut in. 

“Yeah, sounds good. Shall we say Wednesday after dinner? We can go over the next part of the process after you’ve had that mandrake leaf in your mouth.” He said kindly. 

“Great, yeah, perfect. Erm, I’m gonna go. Thanks for the quidditch earlier.” Regulus sped out of the room. James had never heard him ramble on in that ineloquent way before. He put it out of his mind and changed into his clean clothes. His quidditch things he noticed had disappeared. He hoped they’d been sent for washing.

James was feeling better than he had been, but now his mind was full of what had been about to happen before he passed out like a total idiot. How could he forget to breathe? But Regulus had been so different in those few minutes. Even earlier on the quidditch pitch he’d been almost pleasant. All James had ever known about him was he was Sirius’s little brother, and he was destined to be a death eater. But why would he knowingly choose to hang out with someone whose family was very vocal about their support for Dumbledore? Did he stand a chance to help Regulus reform? Did Regulus want to be on Voldemort's side or was it his parents's influence? James was determined to figure him out. Especially as they would be spending quite a bit of time together going through the animagus procedure.  

Next part

[starchaserdreams]

Sometimes I have really bad imposter syndrome and I wonder if I'm actually a good writer.

Today I went back and read my little Sirius-raising-Harry one shot from James' perspective beyond the grave and made myself cry throughout basically the whole thing, so maybe I do know what I'm doing.

Here's the story, if you're interested. Thank Merlin for Sirius Black, 1,800 words.

[mooncello]

my favorite marauders fics are those that imagine these messy gay wizards raising harry. like...james and reg as harry's parents. yes. barty babysitting harry and having no fucking clue how to entertain a five year old. yes. remus affectionally sharing with harry his extensive vinyl collection. hell yes. sirius taking an angsty harry to get his first piercing (and, later, provide teenage harry's first joint - hand-rolled obv). yessss.

throw out everything effing jkr created in canon and remake it better, gayer, happier. these wizards don't die tragic deaths. they live.

i'd read seven books of that.

[skieswdiamonds]

"Falling in love with Regulus was like falling off of a cliff. It might have been mildly suicidal - he was James’ best friend’s little brother, he was a Slytherin, he was everything James should immediately hate - but it was thrilling all the same, and James couldn’t regret it for a second.

He couldn’t regret it because Regulus was beautiful, and witty, and quietly charming in a way that always managed to catch James off guard. He couldn’t regret it because Regulus was unpredictable, and each day loving him was an adventure, and once James had fallen in love with him, he never wanted the adventure to end.

James was a thrillseeker at heart, and Regulus was the most thrilling individual James had ever met. How could he not fall in love with him?

-

Or, what happens after."

.

.

.

It's finished! The final instalment of this series is up! Read now on AO3! :)

[made-by-moon]

I love the idea of Sirius and Regulus both escaping from the Grimmuald Place. Sirius would leave first, and they would fight because Reggie would think that Sirius abandoned hum. But after Reggie turned 18, Sirius made a whole plan to help him out of that place, and it worked. Of course, they would still have issues, but they would work through most of them.

NOW the punchline. I imagine them meeting in Sirius's room in Gryffindor dorms to talk and spend time together. Then Pink Pony Club by Chappel Roan (let's ignore that her music didn't exist back then) and they would scream their hearts out to it. That would be the ultimate celebration of their new gained freedom. Also, because both of them could now be their true selves, Reggie as a trans man and Sirius as genderfluid.

I love angst mixed with fluff.

[resident-gay-bitch]

🌚 Fem Fridays 🌚

Marylene: Marlene confesses her feelings for Mary and it goes better than expected (1.7k words)

Marlene can’t believe she’s doing this. 

She’s about to lose her mind over it, but it’s better than doing nothing, right? 

Sitting alone and sobbing about it isn’t going to get her anywhere. Taking action will.

Well, hopefully. 

If it all goes to shit she might just end up sobbing in a corner even more than usual, which would be mortifying. 

She can feel Sirius and James peaking around the corner behind her. They’re the two that convinced her to do this. Finally, It took months of them trying to pep her up, making bets on the quidditch pitch about it, and Marlene was quite dishonest about it. Far too much of a wimp. 

But, well, she believes her wimpiness is justified in all honesty. 

Mary Macdonald is the most terrifying person she’s ever met– and she means that as a complement. Really, she does. Her intimidating nature comes from her almost bloody ethereal beauty, and her mad fucking confidence. Not to mention she’s got ten times the brain that Marlene does. Who wouldn’t be terrified of that? 

Even Sirius was when they went out for a month in fifth year, apparently he’s never tried too hard to impress a girl as he did with Mary. And Marlene understands that viscerally. 

Mary’s talking with Roman, and she’s playing with the end of his tie, and he’s winking at her, and blah blah blah. The usual. All the blokes in Hogwarts flirt with Mary. And Marlene gets it, trust her, if she were a bloke she’d be outright flirting with Mary on the constant too. 

But she’s not a bloke, is she? And that's the bloody problem. 

But, well, last week Mary found out Marlene was queer. On complete accident of course. She just happened to overhear her talking with James and Sirius about it after practice, Marlene didn’t even realise she made her way down from the stands yet. 

She took it really well, surprisingly, and has even gone so far as to attempt to figure out Marlene's type. She thinks there's no fairness in Marlene going to the ball alone next week, she’s determined to find her a date. 

Which is the problem. 

Because Marlene doesn’t want a date to the ball. She wants Mary. 

Finally, Roman fucks off after what feels like a centry of lame flirting and suggestive eyebrow pumps, and Marlene takes her stake. She glances back at the boys over her shoulder, and they give her assuring nudges and wave her in Mary’s direction. 

And it’s now or never. 

Never. 

Never sounds great right now. 

Yep, this is too bloody terrifying. She’s choosing never–

“Marls!” Mary calls, “What are you doing lurking about over there? Were you waiting for me? Oh, sorry, love. Roman was just asking me to be his date to the ball again, I don’t know how many times I have to tell that boy I’ve already got a date.”

Marlene swallows. She knows Mary has a date, and she hates that fucking annoyingly fit bloke viscerally. 

“Marls?”

She spares a sideway glance at the boys again, and still, they give her forceful encouragement. 

She must have looked for a second too long, because Mary catches sight of them hiding, and in an attempt to not be seen, they trip over themselves and fall into the hall. Marlene rolls her eyes at them, complete gits. 

“What are you two creeps doing?”

“We’re not creeping!” Sirius defends. 

“Yeah, we’re just here to support Marlene!” James adds, and Marlene cuts them a deathly glare. 

“Support Marlene with what?” She asks, looking back at her. 

Marlene just groans, and Sirius whacks his best mate in the chest. 

“Oops… Sorry, Mckinnon!” James mutters nervously, the two of them scurrying back behind the wall again.

“What’s going on, Marlene?” Mary asks again, concern on her gorgeous face now.

Right, bloody well now then, isn’t it? Fucking hell, trust those two to muck it all up. 

“Marls? You’re worrying me.”

“Erm, I’ve got something to tell you.” She muttered, checking her surroundings. And sure enough, as they made sure, they’re alone. 

“Okay, well… what is it?” 

“I know this is fucking stupid for a whole lot of reasons, but I just need to ask, okay?”

“O… okay?” Mary says weerily. 

“Would you– Would you like to, erm…” She takes a deep breath, spitting it all out in one, ripping off the bloody bandaid, “Would-you-like-to-go-to-the-ball-with-me?”

“Sorry?” Mary asked, scrunching up her nose. 

“Would you like to go to the ball with me?” She asks again, so nervous she’s beginning to sweat, and maybe she might throw up. Yeah, she’s probably gonna throw up. 

Mary cocks her head, “Oh, honey, I’m going with Marvin, remember?” She smiled kindly, “I’m not sure if Lily’s said yes to James or not yet, I’m sure she’d be happy to go with you.” 

Marlene sighed, looking down at the ground as she ran a hand through her messy hair, “No, Mary, uhm… I don’t mean as friends.” 

“Hm, I’m not sure I follow?” Mary asked, and Marlene peaked up at her through her lashes, definitely on the verge of vomiting now, “Are you asking me… romantically?”

Marlene does not want to answer. She just wants to run away and hide forever. Maybe she’ll find a nice cave to hide in and join a pack of wolves, lost to the forest and all civilization forever. Yeah, that sounds nice, doesn’t it?

She flinches when a pebble bounces off the back of her head, and she turns around to see Sirius and James peaking out around the corner again, nodding their heads at her aggressively. 

By the time she looks back at Mary, the girl seems a little flustered, “Uh, yeah… Yeah, I mean romantically. And I know you’ve got a date already, so I know it's stupid for that reason alone, but I just needed to ask you.” She began to ramble, refusing to meet Mary's eye as she spat it all out, “I just need you to reject me, I think… I dunno. I’ve fancied you for a while, Mary– bloody years, at this point. I just… I think you’re fantastic. Smartest, brightest, kindest, most wonderful person I know, not to mention you’re probably the most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid my eyes on. And I just can’t keep it to myself anymore. I just needed to tell you, to get it off my chest. I’d like to try and move on, so we can keep being friends, because I value your part in my life more than anything else, Mary. I… I love you, and it’s the best thing in the world to love you, but it’s one sided and that’s killing me.” 

Mary blinked at her, lost for words by the looks of it. And Marlene is about four seconds away from vomiting all over Mary’s shoes. 

“I’m sorry.” She mutters, burying her hands in her trouser pockets before rocking on her heels, “I know it’s weird.” 

“It’s not weird.” Mary says flatly, and Marlene isn’t sure what to do with it. 

She can hear James and Sirius whispering behind her, but she’s choosing to ignore them completely. She thinks she’ll hex them later. 

“I’m wearing a purple dress.” Mary said eventually, catching Marlene completely off guard, “You already know that. But, I’d like it if we could match. You said you were thinking of wearing a suit? Perhaps you could wear a purple tie?” 

“Sorry?” Marlene muttered, her chin jutting forward in disbelief. 

“I know you don’t typically wear purple. But… for me?” Mary asked, looking at her through her gorgeous lashes as Marlene has seen her do a hundred times when flirting with boys. 

She can hear the boys behind her kicking up a fuss. 

Marlene takes in a sharp breath, taking a small step forward to whisper, “Are you saying yes?”

Mary nodded, “I am.”

Wondering for a moment, Marlene leans forward again, whispering even quieter, “Romantically?”

Mary leant in to whisper back, “Romantically.”

“I wasn’t aware you liked girls?” 

“Me either.” Mary whispered with a sly smile, “But over the past week the idea of you being with any girl that isn’t me has made me rather upset and angry. I fancy blokes, but I also fancy you.” 

“Oh… wh- ah… what about Marvin?” 

“Marvin can find another date.” Mary shrugged, “I was kind of hoping you’d ask anyway.” 

Marlene's heart is in her throat, “Is this a date then?” 

“Well, I figured you were asking me out on one, so yes. Is that okay with you?”

“Obviously that’s okay with me.” Marlene said, her voice rather tight as she can’t fucking believe a word shes hearing. Honestly, this might be a dream. 

“Okay, good then.” Mary sighed, standing up straight and holding the stack of textbooks in her arms out to dump in Marlenes, “Since we’re going out now, you get to carry my things.” 

Marlene gapes, catching the stack of books as well as the satchel Mary hands over to her, almost dropping everything in the process. 

“I have History of Magic now, and I’m already late, so we better go. Do you have a class to attend? Or would you like to sit in class with me?” 

“Uh, I’ll sit with you.” Marlene nodded, beginning to follow Mary down the hall. 

She glanced back over her shoulder at the boys who were jumping on each other in celebration, and Marlene grins, tossing them a wide grin and a thumbs up which has her stumbling with the books in hand. 

She’s always been jealous off all the boys who got to carry Mary’s things around for her. Honestly, she’s always thought she could be a much better boyfriend than all of them combined, and well, she’s finally getting her chance to prove it. 

Even with a tremendous armfull, she still opens the classroom door for Mary, pulls out her chair, and organises her desk in just the way she likes. 

And Mary holds her hand. 

She holds. her. hand. 

“You’re very strong, Marlene.” Mary whispers to her once they’re settled, “Those books are rather heavy.”

Marlene might just pass out, “Eh, it was nothing, really. You should see me work out, I can lift more than Sirius.” 

And Mary props her elbow on the table and begins to twist a perfect curl around her well manicured finger, bites her lip as she looks Marlene up and down, “I’d like to see that sometime.” 

 And Marlene does not care how obviously she’s blushing. She’s got the girl. 

Merlin's hairy ballsack, she’s got the girl. 

I really really love marylene so much they deserve more popularity in this fandom!

i've been meaning to write more and more of them, so please if you have any marylene headcannons or fic ideas please drop them in my asks box id be so happy to recieve them!!

[raiidsol]

it's so funny (sad, actually. it´s just sad) to me how a fandom always gets so excited about a group of characters that barely interact. like- there are the main characters and the side characters with all of their problems and traumas and side plots and they may be a family but the moments we see them togheter living happily are very few, normally almost none. but the number of fanarts and fix-fics bout them being all together is HUGE. we have our little thoughts and drawings so we forget about the horrors.

[hp-fanfic-archive]

Come Once Again and Love Me by laventadorn Pairing: Severus/Lily Rating: M Word Count: 179k Severus wakes up in the afterlife expecting something rather different than being almost-seventeen again. But wait - Lily's come back, too - from 1981? Perhaps it's a second chance… but for what?

[kquil]

DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER FOUR

04 : BEGINNINGS

CHPT. SUM. : beginning new things is always fun. getting to know your sons, them finally being able to experience having a loving mother, sirius going to school, and you planning for everything that was yet to come so that everyone gets to the happy ending they deserve. 

LENGTH : 11.8k

TAGS : domestic fluff ; orion being a bad father ; original walburga being a nuisance ; reader being an amazing mother and an amazing cook ; regulus has food preferences ; brotherhood between sirius and regulus ; marauders spotted in the wild ; sirius and regulus being precious babies ; reader disrespecting walburga ; mentions of infertility ; mentions of divorce ; lots of future planning

← PREV. 03 : SHOPPING (2/2) | SERIES M.LIST

9th August 1971 

It, surprisingly, took very little to get past Orion on the topic of changing Sirius and Regulus’ private tutors. However, when you truly looked at his workaholic tendencies, your initial surprise should have been the more startling reaction — of course, he wouldn’t care, he’s too fixated on the happenings with his position on the Wizengamot to be aware of much else, discounting the protective wards he put up around the property. Nevertheless, it was good news for you and your boys. Finally, they would be getting more suitable tutors, who catered to their learning needs in a more digestible way. You had only recently sent out the notice, though, so you don’t expect many replies to be coming in soon. Your only wish was to have fallen into this universe sooner, that way you would have had more time with Sirius before he left to attend Hogwarts as a first year. 

Walburga didn’t have a formal occupation other than monitor her boys so having Sirius leave for his first year would mean less work for her and, subsequently, you. However, it’s not as if she needed the money; she’s the matriarch of an incredibly privileged family, meaning that her financial worries are close to non-existent. Both, the affluent family fortune and her lack of professional ambitions have you stumped, it’s something you’re not used to at all. Perhaps that’s why she’s so obsessed with control and the activity of her two sons; it’s not healthy and you don’t even want to attempt to understand what she was thinking—

“Of course you won’t!” Walburga snarls from the depths of your consciousness, her tone dripping with malice and a hint of something sinister. “I don’t expect someone who failed at becoming a mother to understand the right and true tribulations of bringing up children,” 

“…how did you know that?” you ask aloud, no longer satisfied with simply trying to call for the bitch - Walburga’s - attention in your head. She didn’t seem to want to reply, which only made your blood boil; her prolonged silence, the trigger to releasing your rapidly escalating rage.  How dare she?! How dare she strike you where it hurts the most, only to turn completely unresponsive when you demand answers, “Answer me!”  Thick tensions fill the room when she does not answer, the silence suffocating and poisonous. Taking a slow, deep breath, you engage control over your anxious heart and trembling hands once more. 

Work. You need work. Something to focus on so that you don’t dwell on memories that will only bring you heartache. It worked before so it’ll work for you now. It had worked so well, in fact, that you were able to build an empire out of it, perhaps you could replicate the same results this time. 

“Screw you then, ugly pig, I have more important matters to attend to anyway,” pulling out a drawer, you scatter your notes across the desk and move with fretful fever but, also, enthusiasm above them. No matter the change of environment, you can always trust in your habits to push you forward. Walburga mainly worked on keeping the boys in line as the official matriarch of the Black household but that’s all her world revolved around, she had no hobbies or any close friends other than her relatives whom she communicated with, somewhat, regularly. With a guilty ache in your chest, you kept a gradually growing stack of letters in the bottom-most drawer of the hard oak desk, not yet knowing how to respond to people you barely knew. However, you suppose their relations to a character like Walburaga make it slightly easier to ignore their communications. The affiliation doesn’t warrant your precious time. If you could send a passive-aggressive email, you might be more willing, but the extended process of having to write out the letters and then send them via owl wasn’t worthwhile. 

The priority on your list of important affairs is ensuring your boys’ happy and safe future. Sirius will not have to choose between Regulus and his friends, he will not suffer being blasted off the family tree, he will not have to be ashamed of his family, he will not have to witness his close friend’s death through another’s betrayal, and he will not be forced to go to Azkaban. Similarly, Regulus will not have to suffer Sirius abandoning him, he will not have to face his prejudicial parents alone, he will not be forced into getting the dark mark, he will not have to make the sacrifice he had to make at such a young age, he will not die a miserable and lonely death, and he will not be forgotten! You will make sure of it. 

Coming into the world as a Harry Potter and Marauders fan, you’re well-equipped with all the knowledge required to make the right decisions. The only problem is that the Marauders era has been a largely vague timeline that most of the fandom filled in for themselves so you’ll have to tread carefully. This will require meticulous planning, a steady rise to power and a conglomeration of useful allies to help set your plans into motion. Modern-day knowledge and business etiquette will serve you well here. You’ve survived toxic work environments, won in the race to riches, and dealt with all manner of manipulative, sexist swine you could ever think to encounter. If you play your cards right, you’re sure to win. 

“As if a muggle like you could conquer the wizarding world!” Walburga finally makes her appearance once again. And, of course, it’s for the sake of belittling you whilst making your head throb painfully from her distasteful screeches. 

“Shut up,” you hiss unapologetically, resisting the urge to smirk, “Unlike you, I know the future—” breathing the words aloud brings a blaring, singular thought to the front of your mind. The vision you witnessed at the Owl Emporium replays in your head once more…

How in the world did Walburga know about the biting habit of Sirius’ future owl?… 

Several moments pass achingly slow as you anticipate the aggravating screeching of Walburga to return. When no such wailing occurs or interrupts your train of thought, your mind immediately begins to spiral. 

How could Walburga remember being at the Emporium, shopping for Sirius’ first year at Hogwarts when she had yet to go shopping with him in the first place? They couldn’t have already gone, right? Orion would have said something if they were being inefficient enough to go a second time. That or the boys would have definitely made some comment… 

This felt like an urgent matter that needed your immediate attention but you had to prioritise other things for now. It’s not like the original Walburga was going to give you the answers you needed so it wasn’t any use pressing on the matter. It’s best to turn your focus and efforts elsewhere. Peering back at your scattered notes, you raise your newly acquired wand and utter the crafting spell you had learned recently. 

“Libeligare,” As you wave your wand over the desk, activity springs forth. In a flurry of animated pages and whistling currents in the air, your disordered notes compile themselves appropriately before binding themselves into a fresh notebook. It doesn’t have a hard cover and you debate on transfiguring a decorative letter set piece into one but think against it. This will do nicely for the moment. 

Finally, all your detailed plans are in one place. 

10th August 1971 

With nothing better to do and desperate for a decent meal, you address the home-cooked meals situation. Every dish served at the Black household was so unappetising and bland, that you couldn’t believe that the family was one of the most influential and richest families to exist in the wizarding world. You’re beginning to believe that the Blacks were the type of family to indulge in unpalatable spreads with the reasoning that they refuse to eat the same meals as those lesser than them. How childish. Even in your city-centre penthouse, you ordered take-out frequently and ate ordinary home-cooked meals that were comforting and warm. The memories make you compare all the meals you’ve had in Grimmauld Place and blanch abhorrently. This wouldn’t do, especially for your growing boys. They need to be well-fed so that they grow up healthy and strong. 

“Mistress!” Kreacher shrieks behind you, making you jump and spin around all at once. The hunched-over house elf dashes through the kitchen space clumsily and with much vigour, he pulls painfully at his drooping ears as his eyes bulge out from seeing you, his mistress, the matriarch, in the kitchen cooking! Without magic! 

“Don’t be so dramatic, Kreacher,” you chuckle softly and turn back to your food prep, “I’m just trying to cook an easy breakfast for my boys,” if you could truly have it your way then you would cook enough only for you and your two darling sons to eat. Orion would have to sort his own plate. But you’re not divorced yet so you suppose this is a compromise you’ll have to make. 

“I-It is not mistress’ job, let Kreacher do it—!” the house elf, reaches forward to take the kitchen utensils from you but you’re too swift. 

“I want to cook the food Kreacher,” you argue and continue pottering about the kitchen as if it was just another Tuesday morning, all while Kreacher follows you around helplessly. He’s clearly stuck between letting you have your way or forcing you to let him cook instead. Both felt wrong in different ways considering his position as the house elf, and he was brought to a standstill. The poor guy looked ready to throw himself off a cliff from the indecision and panic.  

Having sympathy for the elf, you call to him over your shoulder, “Kreacher can you please pass me the eggs?” this feels like a good even ground to dance on. Soon enough you’ll be teaching Kreacher how to finally relax. Kreacher appeared happy to finally be doing something but as soon as he hesitantly handed over the eggs, he was back to being anxious all over again. Even though you are the matriarch of the household, you supposed you’ll have to share the kitchen with a very distressed house elf for the foreseeable future. 

For the rest of the morning, you’ve asked Kreacher to help you with crisping up the beacon, cleaning the mushrooms, opening up the can of beans, toasting the bread and laying out the table. No more tasteless, boring porridge for breakfast with no toppings, today you’re serving a Full English. Admiring the spread, you thank Kreacher for his assistance before undoing your apron and putting the finishing touches to the dining table just as the rest of the family make it down for breakfast. 

“What is all this?” Orion asks in slight surprise when catching sight of breakfast for the day, “Is today very important?”

“No,” nonchalance keeps your tone controlled just as your precious babies walk through the door and hop into their designated seats at the table, one more enthusiastic than the other, “I’m just tired of plain old porridge every day,”

“Porridge is delicious,” Orion defends.

“Every day?” from the look in his eyes, you don’t know whether or not you’ve bested him so turn a serene smile his way instead, “I can always ask Kreacher to make you porridge if you really want,” 

Orion takes a moment to observe the full, vibrant plate of bacon, toast, grilled tomatoes, sautéed mushrooms, sausages, black pudding, scrambled eggs and beans. If he takes any longer to play indecisive, the food will get cold and your precious babies are waiting on his dainty, princess-ass to make a decision— can you hurry the fuck up?! you want to scream at him. Every meal is started after his first bite (the pretentious, narcissistic douche) so he needs to make up his mind quickly or else you’ll lose yours waiting around! 

“…it’ll be a waste, this will do,” he finally picks up his knife and fork to begin eating and you have to reign yourself in before you roll your eyes too noticeably at his conceited behaviour. Your babies behave better than him. The prick! 

Turning to your boys, you observe Sirius and Regulus digging into their own meals before finally taking a bite out of yours. It felt good to see their eyes light up like that, especially Sirius’ — it makes you want to giggle at how obviously he had been wanting to devour his beans and toast the instant he laid eyes on them. 

Breakfast continues pleasantly as everyone enjoys their meal until you begin to notice some peculiar movement in the corner of your eye. You try to be as subtle as you can, considering the uncommon calm that has fallen over the dining table; it isn’t usually this comfortable around the table so you wanted to preserve the ambience as much as possible. The source of your curious gaze was Sirius and Regulus. 

Covertly, Regulus sneaks spoonfuls of his scrambled eggs onto Sirius’ plate, who proceeds to eat up his younger brother’s share as quickly as possible. Regulus was doing this willingly despite this morning’s breakfast being the first appetising meal he’s had yet. It won’t be the last either. However, from the way Sirius is scarfing down the food whilst trying to remain as silent as possible, it wouldn’t be surprising if Sirius eventually suffers from a stomachache later on. You wonder what could be the matter with the scrambled eggs. Was the seasoning off? Kreacher helped taste test every element of the meal and gave his stellar praise for your unrealised culinary skills so you’re more than a bit confused at the scene. After swallowing all remnants of food in your mouth, you gently raise a question. 

“Regulus?” your youngest freezes up immediately, making your brows furrow but still, you continue in a soft voice, “What’s wrong?” Deep in your chest, you feel your heart clench in worry at the deer-in-headlights expression plastered across Regulus’ cherubic face. 

You are met with only silence, “do you not like your eggs, darling?” you try meeting your youngest’s eyes but he’s terrified to even face your direction. Instead, he’s firmly steered his gaze down to his lap and keeps it there, frozen in place. 

There’s a slam of the table and everyone stiffens. At the head, Orion stares disapprovingly at Regulus, who begins to tremble like a leaf, “How rude!” the patriarch spits with such force and bite that his saliva lands halfway down the lengthy dining table. He’s so scandalised by his son’s behaviour that the cold from his freezing gaze drops the temperature in the room lower than it already is. “How many times have we talked about this Regulus? Finish your plate at once or else it’ll be the last meal you eat today!”

“He’s not being rude!” you counter, flying out of your seat and making your way to Regulus, “And he shouldn’t be forced to eat something he doesn’t like nor punished harshly for disliking something,” Crouching down, you position yourself to block Orion from Regulus’ line of sight despite his frightened doe-eyes remaining transfixed on his lap. His small hands are turned into small, knuckle-white fists, gripping fiercely at the fabric of his trousers. A paralysed statue of fear incarnate, your little boy doesn’t deserve this! If you could ‘Avada Kedavra’ Orion’s pathetic, prissy ass, you would in a heartbeat. 

From your peripheral, you notice how Sirius had placed a comforting hand over one of Regulus’ closed fists and the sight made your heart bloom with pride and joy — seeing how well they take care of each other was so heartwarming. “Tell me what’s wrong, Reg…I promise I won’t get mad,” you make sure to keep your voice in a low whisper so that only your son can hear but also loud enough that Orion’s distant grumbling is disguised. 

“Do you not like eggs?” your prompting remains gentle and patient, hoping for a fraction of understanding. That’s all you really want. 

Sensing no antagonistic feeling in your tone, Regulus finally wills himself to speak, although barely audible from insecurity, “I….I don’t like scrambled eggs…”

“No? What about them don’t you like?”

"They feel weird in my mouth, I don’t like chewing them,” he explains shyly, his confession dripping with shame. His grey eyes look into your own remorsefully and, before he can utter an apology, he is stopped by the shaking of your head.

Smiling warmly, you pat his small hand and voice your reassurance, “That’s a reasonable preference to have. Do you not like the texture?” Regulus nods in confirmation as his small, tense shoulders slowly ease up, “Do you not like eggs at all or do you like them cooked in a particular way?” 

Regulus’ eyes widen with surprise. Never before had his mother been so attentive to his preferences like this. On the contrary, His mother was always the first to make him feel embarrassed for his picky tendencies when it came to food, especially over dishes that make him lose his appetite entirely, oysters and shellfish being the main culprit. He really didn’t like them at all. Many times, they were the appetiser to multiple-course meals hosted by pureblood, elitist wizarding families so Walburga was determined to season her son’s palettes early on in life. It was good etiquette to eat such foods and to know how to eat them properly. If he didn’t display appropriate dinner etiquette at the table then he is lesser, he is unworthy of the Black family name and blood running through his veins, he is unbecoming of his heritage, he is a disgrace— 

“I can cook eggs in many other ways,” you suggest thoughtfully, voice remaining soft and comforting, “I can fry them for you? Or I can boil them? Do you like your yolk runny or firm?” 

Regulus, spurred on by your softly placed questions feels the corners of his lips tug upwards, “fried eggs, please…”

His innocuous answer makes you beam, “with a runny or firm yolk, darling?”

“Runny, please,” Regulus finds your bright expression infectious and begins to smile a little wider too. Over the slope of his little brother’s small shoulders, Sirius is grinning from ear to ear; finally, Regulus isn’t going to be forced to eat something he doesn’t enjoy. The elation makes Sirius’ chest swell as his heart pinches slightly at the memory of his little brother retching up the contents of his stomach in the bathroom. Those disastrous, past meals started badly and they ended badly too. Peering at you with smiling eyes, Sirius knows that he won’t need to worry about that any more. 

“Of course, right away," you’re eager to leave and fix up Regulus’ plate but you also worry about leaving him with Orion at the dinner table; your husband wasn’t too pleased with Regulus having preferences — the pretentious prick could choke on his food and die for all you cared, “how about we go to the kitchen together?” you offer smoothly as you begin to stand, “that way, you can watch me cook and make sure I do them just the way you like it,” smiling brightly, Regulus nods and easily offers his hand for you to hold, “Siri, would you like to come?” if one brother was coming with you so was the other.  

“Yes please!” Sirius happily walks to the kitchen, hand-in-hand with Regulus, whose other hand is fully wrapped up in your own. 

From the head of the table, Orion stares with his mouth agape at what he had just been a witness to. What was happening to his wife?! 

11th August 1971 

Sirius and Regulus stand by the fireplace, waving off their newly appointed private tutor as they floo away before eagerly making their way to your home office. Usually, their session catch-ups would make the two freeze up and drag their feet along the plush carpets of their family’s proud home but not now. Ever since your irregular activities leading up to your fainting spell and subsequent switch in demeanour, they’ve felt safer and happier at home. But only around you, their father still frightened them. The patriarch’s grey eyes swirled with a mounting turbulence that they would greatly prefer to avoid so they quickly make themselves scarce around him but not around their mother. Not anymore.

“I can’t wait to show Mother my cursive practice,” Regulus has a skip in his step as he walks beside his older brother, who beams at him proudly. 

“Yeah, you’re getting really good at that Reggie,” Sirius praises, a slightly envious tone edging into his words, but it all remained playful, “say, how do you do your swirls so good?”

“Practise!” 

Sirius rolls his eyes at his younger brother’s cheek, “There has to be a secret to it that I don’t know about,” Regulus only giggles at his older brother’s shortcomings. This had been a rare happiness to experience at 12 Grimmauld Place but, gradually, it was becoming common between the two brothers. Suddenly the walls weren’t so drab, the furniture not as boring and the decorations not as hauntingly placed. The atmosphere was much brighter as sunlight always seemed to pour magnanimously in from the windows.

“Sorry Siri,” from Regulus’ free-flowing, tuneful words, he isn’t sorry at all but Sirius can never will up any hatred for his younger brother. They’ve been through it all together and now that their recent joys were also being shared, of course, they would partake in harmless teasing — teasing that was usually frowned upon by their mother but was no longer a worry. They can’t remember the last time their mother frowned — the two greatly prefer this new version of their mother’s expressions much more.

As they approach your office door, the brothers’ footfalls quicken and they barely catch themselves from bursting through the door without knocking. But not before they catch sight of your figure through the crack of the doorway. Curious about your activity, Sirius hushes his younger brother softly and holds him back so that he can lean forward to observe your figure closely. Inspired by his older brother’s nosiness, Regulus leans forward also and the two peer at you through the doorway crack. 

You’re not at your desk but are, instead, seated on the plush, cushioned seats of the emerald sofa placed in front of your desk. Black robes and other familiar attire are piled up beside you on one side while the other gradually assembles the neatly folded aftermath of your sewing…embroidery? Was there even a difference? Nevertheless, you had a needle and thread in hand without your wand or the use of magic in sight!

“Mother’s sewing your name tags herself,” Regulus concludes in a whisper following a muted gasp of surprise. 

Sirius’ eyes widen ever so slightly, “and she’s not using magic…” he doesn’t know how skilled you are at sewing but Sirius doesn’t care, the gesture alone is enough to make his chest swell. Even his face began to warm up from the heat climbing up his neck as it tried reaching his ears. 

“…do you think she’ll sew my name tags too? When I start my first year, I mean…” Regulus asks shyly, the clear insecurity in his timid voice making Sirius slightly defensive. 

“Of course, she will,” he huffs before grinning widely, “and if we tear up our uniform ‘accidentally’ I’m sure she’ll sew those up herself too!” Regulus doesn’t know whether he likes or dislikes his brother’s train of thought but smiles anyway; he’s just happy thinking about his mother paying as much attention and care to his first-year robes too. He can’t wait until he starts attending Hogwarts as well. 

Finally willing themselves to stop eavesdropping and return to their earlier task, Sirius and Regulus straighten their posture before knocking on the heavy wooden door. They don’t have to wait terribly long for an answering call to grant their entrance. 

“Come in,” you set your tools aside and smile when the door reveals your babies stepping into your office, “hello, my darlings,” from your periphery, you spot the time on the clock face and jump into conversation with them, “how was your tutoring session? Did you like your new tutor?” 

“Yeah!” the two answer simultaneously and with the same amount of enthusiasm — it makes you smile with content. Happiness looks good on them; their characters shine brighter and their faces are more child-like. They’re honestly the cutest little boys you’ve ever seen and now they’re your sons to love and protect.  

“That’s wonderful news,” you open your arms for each of them to jump into, “Tell me all about it,” you’re just about to magic away the robes and sewing equipment so that they can sit beside you but not before you spot Sirius inspecting your handiwork, “I’m afraid I’m not the best seamstress,” your confession comes out bashfully, “I should have had Madam Malkins sew the tags on for me—”

“No!—” Sirius interrupts, looking almost offended that you would consider such a thing, “I like your sewing,” you raise a brow and, together with Regulus, inspect your uneven, treasure map trail of stitches before turning to the eldest brother once more. 

“Are you sure, darling?”

“Yeah, only you can do the stitching on my uniform, no one else,” his firm answer makes your embarrassed expression melt into a warm smile.

“Alright then,”

“Thank you, Mother,” he gives you another hug that you happily return. 

“You’re welcome, my dear,”

Looking over your plans, you sigh in restrained frustration. This is going to be a little hard. Yes, you know what to do but it’s all about recruiting the right people, trustworthy people and ones who are right for the role you’re choosing to give them. There’s a lot on your plate too, with your most urgent goal being divorce. You’re convinced that it isn’t going to be easy, considering the controversies that will surround the separation of a prominent wizarding house. The laws surrounding marriage, divorce and custody at this time are also largely unknown to you. Thankfully, you’ve had the privilege of living in a modern ‘muggle’ society where marriage and custody laws were pretty equal and fair. Perhaps there’s a book you can read up on about these things. For now, it’s a safe bet to say that custody will favour Orion as a man in the 1970s — it’s better to over-prepare than be underprepared for any outcome. 

Despite the importance of this particular undertaking, you’ll have to wait until both, Sirius and Regulus, are attending Hogwarts to commence the divorce proceedings. You don’t want your boys to be front-row witnesses nor do you want them to rollercoaster through the typical, rough emotions of children caught up in their parents’ divorce. You’ve been through that already… and you barely made it out on the other side. You’re an adult and they’re just children; if you can protect them from the brunt of it, you will.

A stray thought pushes forward into your consciousness — it would be too optimistic to confidently wager on the boys siding with you. Although under abusive parenting, children are very loyal and you’re benefiting from that loyalty now; even though Walburga was incredibly cruel to her sons, they were still eager to give you a chance as soon as you took over and began treating them kindly. You need to be cautious. The silver lining of it all is that you’ll, at least, have some time to prepare affluently before starting the separation process. That, on its own, however, will require another bout of planning.  

Saving Regulus is another priority on your list. That requires getting rid of the Horcruxes and killing off snake-faced Voldy but you don’t want to be too hands-on with that, especially because you’re not very adept at casting spells yet — there’ll be more experienced and more willing people (Aurors) who would be able to handle this type of mission. All you have to do is pull the right strings and connect with the right people. Eyeing another task on your list, you spot a small connection and smirk to yourself. The nib of your quill dips into a pot of ink and bridges two of your obligations. 

“This could be quite beneficial on both ends,” if you play your cards right…

Making some more careful notes, you gradually begin to piece everything together. But then there’s the issue of Sirius being sent to Azkaban. It’s healthy to have faith in yourself but if someone’s life and wellbeing are in danger, especially if it’s your son’s, you need to have a second, third and fourth plan at the ready. There needs to be a second, third and fourth plan for Regulus as well. Luck and misfortune will always have some influence on the dice you roll, there will never be an exception to that. You’ve learned this enough times in your previous life already, not just in business but everything else too. 

Your quill stops and rests beside your plans as the cogs in your brain turn with more purpose. Sirius still needs to become an animagus and Regulus needs to learn how to be a strong enough swimmer so that he can cast a spell to repel the Inferi. It would be beneficial if they both become well-equipped in duelling. That’ll require your lack of interference (maybe even your support) until Sirius’ fifth year, getting Regulus sorted with swimming lessons and encouraging both on their Defence Against the Dark Arts skills. You make a quick note of both solutions and their reasoning before linking both back to your list of obligations. 

The progress you’re making with these intervention plans is making headway. You just hope that you won’t tip the scales too far so that what little control you currently have slips right through your fingers and you’ll be left floundering. 

20th August 1971

You’ve fully taken over the cooking for all meals and your boys are looking much healthier. It warms your heart every time you see them happily eating your cooking, it was hard work keeping up with the pantry inventory, planning meals and catering to their individual tastes but it was good work that filled your heart with so much content, you hardly felt the fatigue creeping into your bones. 

Regulus isn’t a picky eater, he simply has a preference for some foods over others. He doesn’t like his eggs scrambled, only fried and with a runny yolk; he can’t stomach oysters or shellfish; he doesn’t like pulp in his juice and he’d rather eat a raw onion than have any trace of offal trimmings in his food. 

Sirius can practically eat anything and does so healthily, however, he’s more of a savoury person, leaving Regulus to own the sweet tooth palette by himself. Both adore cheese and you often create mini charcuterie boards for them to snack on. It was so adorable. There was plenty of time on your schedule to assign towards aesthetic food presentation so you’ve mastered the creation of salami roses. You’ve also found that Sirius prefers caramelised onion chutney to go with his mature cheeses whilst Regulus goes for a sweeter fig chutney. 

Currently, you were making them their own mini charcuterie boards. Both were displayed on a circular board with their favourite chutney at the very centre, held in a small ceramic container. And, with decorative prowess, you place their selection of meats, cheeses, crackers and grapes around it. 

“Do they look good Kreacher?” the house elf peers over the countertop surface and gives an affirming nod with a barely noticeable smile. 

“The young masters will be very happy, Mistress,” helpfully he suggests bringing the carefully prepared boards and crust-less finger sandwiches up to the boys’ study room for you but you shake your head. 

“Thank you, Kreacher, but I think I’ll bring up the food this time,” you’ve met their new private tutor several times already but she was always so tense around you; you’re determined to improve her impression through some good old exposure therapy. “Please prepare some tea and bring it up as soon as you’re done,” with your wand and a softly uttered ‘locomotor charcuterie boards and sandwiches’, the items lift into the air just slightly and you begin to move them out of the kitchen. 

“What tea should Kreacher be brewin’ this noon, Mistress?” 

“Oolong would be lovely today. Be sure to brew some Earl grey for Orion too but deliver the Oolong to us first please,” Kreacher’s struggles with your utterance of the polite ‘please’ persists but he continues with his set tasks regardless. The hunched-over house elf has noticed you’ve been prioritising the young masters much more than Orion recently; whenever you want to do something thoughtful, you always think of your sons first. Only last minute do you finally remember your workaholic husband and leave the snack preparations for Kreacher to fulfil and deliver alone. It’s a peculiar shift in attention, the wrinkled elf admits, but seeing his young master Regulus so happy, he doesn’t complain. Kreacher also admits that he’s growing a slight, mutual fondness for the elder Black brother, the two share in their love for Regulus and loyalty to you; now they’ve become friendly acquaintances. The house elf is a little happier and much more willing than ever before to stay loyal to his mistress and young masters’ sides. And Master Orion too, of course.   

Making your way up the stairs, the pretentious cow stuck in your head makes her presence known with inconsequential complaints.

“You’re spoiling those boys far too much!” Walburga shrieks and immediately makes your temples pound, “Sirius and Regulus don’t need this much attention, if you continue this they’re going to grow up soft and weak and unable to carry on the Black family name with the proper dignity and class!” For the sake of avoiding the horrid healing potion Kreacher’s having you consume after every fainting spell, you’ve been training yourself to build up as much resistance to her incessantly obnoxious yapping as much as possible — you’re getting there but you still need some practise. Currently, you are traversing the stairs so you’re taking every step with extra caution.

“Bitches should be seen and not heard,” her confounded gasp doesn’t escape you, “so kindly shut the fuck up,” the sarcastic cheerfulness in your tone makes her gasp once more and, like a coward, makes herself scarce. It seems as though you’ve gotten better at shutting the shrew up but she has yet to acclimatise herself to your shameless disrespect towards her.  Hopefully, she never gets used to your comments; it’s always such a pleasure being able to render her utterly speechless. 

With a pleased smile, you give a soft knock on the boys’ study room before entering. The boys gasp happily as soon as they see the levitating charcuterie boards and the plateful of crust-less sandwiches float closer and closer. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt but I think you all deserve a lunch break,” the boys cheer and happily dig in while you face their tutor with a small smile, “please feel free to have as many sandwiches as you want, we have plenty on offer,” her smile is hesitant and slightly trembles under your hold so she’s quick to look away and fix her focus onto the plate of sandwiches — her own, personal reprieve from having to interact with you.

Peony Knight. She’s an incredibly timid individual who seems to be in her element only when teaching children rather than in the company of said children’s adult parents — she has yet to look you in the eye for an extended period. Her head is an organised plight of feathery, strawberry-blonde hair and her eyes are a pair of opal pendants, so brilliantly blue but incandescent with a kaleidoscope of other jewel colours. Her resume was astounding but her family wasn’t very notable so you could only imagine her surprise when she received your response to her application with a test run of her skills. It was important to you that she comes from an uncommon house and family, you didn’t want to draw too much attention over switching tutors. At her tutoring trial run, she started very shaky but eventually found her confidence when focusing on your two boys rather than your lurking figure from the corner of the study. She was a good runner-up and quickly became the perfect choice when your boys showed favour towards her – the other candidates appeared to have been more affected by your presence in the room and taught the way they thought you wanted them to. 

“She’s nice and patient,” Regulus commented when you went to him after her trial lesson. 

“I like the way she explains things,” Sirius added beside him. 

That was all you needed to hire her as their private tutor. Peony’s timidity of you as an authority figure played in her favour very well.  

Hidden within a thick pile of stacked parchments and a small mountain of miscellaneous scrolls, you found Walburga’s carefully curated curriculum for the boys and handed it over to Peony. Walburga would know better than you what would be useful for her sons to learn. However, you were surprised at the amount of ‘muggle’ topics on her curated list. Admittedly, you were only expecting foundational wizarding lessons maybe on wands or classic pureblood etiquette so your shock was justified. Walburga’s reaction, however, wasn’t.  

“I teach them proper pureblood etiquette myself, you useless girl! And how can I expect my sons to grow up well if they aren’t taught the basics?! They’ll be able to advance as better wizards of the Black family that way. Moreover, muggles stick to and remain in the basics so don’t get smug with me, you filthy mud-blood!” Walburga screeched without restraint and with much offence after your initial revelation, leading to another fainting spell — the disgusting bitch…

In addition to Peony’s private tutoring, you’ve taken to providing your own private lessons to the boys, much to their surprise and slight hesitancy. However, as soon as you began the extended lessons after their usual morning session with Peony one day, they’ve since grown to love it. This didn’t happen every time, however, only on Tuesdays and Fridays. Today was one of those days, a Friday, and you’re so excited to see their reactions to what you have planned. 

Their schedules typically consist of Peony coming over a couple of hours before noon and she teaches them for two or three hours sessions every day except weekends. Mondays were for English language and literature (wizard and muggle), Tuesdays were for Economics, Numeracy and Financial literacy, Wednesdays were for French and Cursive handwriting practice, Thursdays were for muggle sciences (basic biology, physics and chemistry) and Fridays were for history and philosophy (wizard and muggle).

You reserve the fun lessons for your boys with yourself as their teacher. These were composed of lessons that typically challenged their problem-solving, creativity and other fundamental skills to set them up with a good foundation for school and life in general. This included fun puzzle-solving, art (in every medium the boys wanted), some written/scenario problem-solving and role-play scenarios. The first Friday you did this, you had the boys act out from rough, child-friendly scripts you drafted inspired by the Shakespearian play, Macbeth. It seemed like an innocuous lesson but you wanted to gauge their ethical understandings and reasonings. 

Throughout the scenes, you would spontaneously make them freeze frame to ask prompting questions that typically go along the lines of, ‘what would you do in this situation?’, ‘do think that was the right thing to do?’, and ‘why did you think your character did this even though they knew it was wrong?’. Both engaged very well with their own perspectives on the situation. 

At one point they got into a small argument that you needed to break up due to slightly differing standpoints on the scenario. It became slightly more heated than you expected but you were thankful for the opportunity to teach them how to communicate well with each other despite their differences. The lesson ended after that because tensions were still high and they were equally very stubborn about who should apologise first. 

It was going to take more than one lesson to be able to make them understand the rules and the importance of healthy communication, but that was to be expected. This was just the beginning so you’re hoping that if you stay consistent with fostering their ethical reasoning, communication and problem-solving skills, they will be able to remain brotherly despite their opposing Hogwarts houses. In the end, you made them apologise at the same time (to the count of three) and had them hug it out before telling them to say one thing they like about the other person. Evidently, they weren’t used to your new way of doing things and making amends but they (grumpily) did as they were told — and looked absolutely adorable doing it, their pouty faces were too much to bear! 

Approaching the two boys indulging in their individual charcuterie boards and occasionally exchanging bites of their share, you kneel between them and begin pleasant conversations about their current lesson. 

“Are you two having fun so far?” you could practically see Peony stiffen up like cement behind you, just from the telling gasp she lets out in the background. Being so high-strung isn’t going to be good for her health so you hope she gets used to your presence soon enough. You do feel slightly apologetic for her but she needs to know that people can change no matter how drastically. Hopefully, she takes this opportunity to grow some confidence in herself too. Someone so intelligent should walk with broader shoulders and a higher chin. 

“Yeah! Did you know Pythagoras had a cult?” Sirius was practically bouncing in his chair.

“No, he had a school of very intelligent mathematicians and musicians,” Regulus countered after swallowing his bite of cracker, cheese and grapes. 

Sirius rolls his eyes but immediately jumps into another topic, “he discovered the theory of pitch which is surprising coming from a guy who’s scared of beans,” he cracks himself up laughing at the statement.

Again, Regulus interjects in defence of the philosopher, “he wasn’t scared of beans,” the two brothers exchange narrowed stares, “He just believed that beans were the vessels for dead people’s souls and didn’t want to disrespect them by running through a bean field,” a small argument ensues but you don’t act, instead, you watch as a bystander in the hopes that your presence alone can keep them in check. If you ever feel the need to jump in at some point, you will. 

All too well, Sirius and Regulus remain aware of your lingering attendance to their quarrel and make the silent agreement to not escalate things too far. For a moment, they share a knowing look after briefly glancing your way and glaring at each other once again. You watch them huff and inhale a slow, shaky breath. They actively turn their voices down whilst continuing with their argument. It didn’t seem to go anywhere but both concluded it with less heat and more of a calm acknowledgement of each other’s differing sides. 

“Two people can have different opinions and still be friends. They only need to respect that the other person holds a different view and that it doesn’t make them a bad person,” they remembered your sage advice from their first extracurricular lesson with you. It was a massive shift in perspective to their growing minds and the impact it had on both of them was enough to permanently imprint the message into their heads.  

Unprompted, you lean forward and press a kiss to each of their foreheads, Sirius first and then Regulus, “I’m so proud of you two,” you watch as their cherubic cheeks flush an adorable, pink hue. Sirius scratches the back of his head bashfully whilst Regulus fiddles with his pen, both of them equally biting back a small smile from the praise, “you remembered what I taught you,” they look upon your elated smile with shy fulfilment as they nod slightly. “Another person’s opposing opinions might be something we don’t share or appreciate as much as they do but…” they lean forward ever so slightly, wanting to consciously heed your elaboration on the topic, “hearing or witnessing a different view will expand our perspective on the world and help us grow as people. We need to keep an open mind for these sorts of things because they can teach us so much. It might be hard to do sometimes, but I want to ask you two for a small favour,” they nod silently, not questioning or hesitating at your words, fully trusting in your sensible knowledge — their mother was always a brick wall when it came to the opinions of others, they couldn’t penetrate her, especially when it came to opposite views on blood purity so, to see her encouraging such undogmatic behaviour, is peculiar but in a strangely motivating way. They find that they want to do whatever it is that you want to ask them to do no matter what, “I want the two of you to try to understand the other side of any argument or opposite view. The world isn’t as black and white as we think it is. We have to try to be understanding and empathetic people. There may be reasons someone sees the world a certain way and even if we don’t agree or like their opinion, the least we can do is try to understand them. Just try. That’s all… that’s enough,”

It was a lot to take in and it was a lot to ask of such young minds that were still developing. But you weren’t asking for them to be perfect at it. All you want them to do is try.

“Alright, Mother,” Sirius nods with solid determination in his eyes. 

“Whatever you wish, Mother,” Regulus says at the same time, also glowing with resolve. 

Smiling happily, you bring them into a group hug, your arms easily curling around their small shoulders as you press another kiss to their temples, “you don’t have to be perfect, just try,“ you reiterate in a whisper, “I’m so proud of you, my darlings, you make mommy so happy,” you don’t see it but you feel their bright smiles press into your neck from either side as they return your embrace and nuzzle their faces into the junction of your neck and shoulders.

˖  ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Their lesson ended a few minutes ago and, like routine, they wave off Peony at the living room fireplace while you set up the study with all the things you planned on having them do for the afternoon. You asked them if they wanted to take a break before your lesson but they said they were happy to begin right away. They were able to detect the sparkle of excitement in your eyes as you left after their lunch break and were now filled with the same eagerness to begin your lesson.

Setting up their table with tools, aprons and a protective mat warmed your heart. You had planned so many things to do with your future children in your original life, read so many books and attended so many talks, lectures and groups on how to be a good mother that your heart was finally able to heal the scars that resulted from the infertility diagnosis you were slammed with years ago. You felt like a failure, not only as a mother but as a woman to be told that. It wasn’t until you were able to recover from that debilitating news that you finally began to consider adoption. It took years and years and the building of a corporate empire to finally get to that point but then, you were doomed once more. At the centre of a collision in the busy city streets, you lost consciously accepting your fate only to end up here…it was all quite a blessing really. Now you have two beautiful sons to call your own and to love with all of your heart. As an added bonus, they’re also two of your favourite characters from the Harry Potter universe. 

You could barely contain your excitement when you heard a small knock at the door to the study. They were here. 

“Come in, darlings,”

Stepping into the room, Sirius and Regulus gasp in awe and begin jumping on the spot ever so slightly from feverish anticipation. In your outstretched hands were two small, grey aprons, one displaying Sirius’ name and the other Regulus’ along the upper seam of the apron’s breast pocket. Without being asked, they step up to their aprons and reach forward to put the article on themselves. As they do so,  you announce what you will be doing for the afternoon. 

“Clay sculptures?” Sirius almost squeals in excitement as Regulus bounces on the balls of his feet. 

“We’ve never done that before,” Regulus chimes as you kneel behind him to help with tying up his apron, eventually moving on to redo Sirius’ clumsy knot as well.

“It’ll be fun,” you giggle, “fun and messy,” Sirius appreciates the hint of mischief in your voice and rushes to take a seat at the table with Regulus toddling along close behind him. You take a seat too and begin to talk them through the little sculpting tools they have beside them, the small mountain of clay at their disposal and the use for the bowls of water within reach. 

Regulus is listening but he can’t help glimpsing down at his stitched-on name tag every few seconds or so. His chest feels warm and so so tight that he feels like he’s about to burst. You had hand-stitched his name tag onto the apron yourself. He recognised the inexperienced, inconsistent stitches but he thinks it’s the most beautiful display of embroidery he has ever seen. There’s also the revelation that Regulus didn’t need to wait to go to Hogwarts to know that you would be attentive enough to do the same thing for his clothes as you did to Sirius’. He feels special and he loves the affectionate attention you were giving him, all the motherly love he and his older brother had always dreamed of experiencing was finally happening, not only through kind words but in warm hugs, soft kisses and silent acts of service too. He feels a surge of wanting to do well in everything, from studying to writing to eating to sleeping — all of it! He’ll do well in all of it. He only wants to make you proud. 

“Let’s begin with rolling out a piece of our clay,” you start, encouraging them to get messy, keep their clay hydrated and not worry about the state of their tools because you’ll all be washing them at the end together. After that, you had them make little balls using their hands and then roll out one ball into a flat sheet using their small rolling pins. With another ball, you instructed them to attempt making it flat using their hands instead, which helped you explain that moving around the clay with their hands makes the clay easier to mould.  

“Have you two been learning about muggle sciences?” you gently ask as the two go about flattening their spheres a little more so that they can carve patterns into them using their small wooden tools. 

“Yeah, I like the one called physics,” Sirius grins, eyes still focused on his clay.

“Me too!” Regulus chimes and the two brothers grin at each other, which makes you smile. 

“That’s very good,” you nod, spotting an opportunity, “so where do you think the heat comes from when we roll out our clay?” 

“From our hands,” Sirius immediately answers. 

“That’s right, anything else?”

The question is open for the two of them but Regulus is the one who answers next, “From all the moving around,”

“Brilliant, my darlings,” you praise and they grin pridefully. 

“Now, can you name the types of energies those are called? If you’ve learned about them, that is,” The brothers look at each other before beginning to ponder separately. The silence draws on so you decide to give them a little help, “What are all the energies called?” They do just fine with regurgitating the ten different energy types and that seems to be enough to prompt Regulus. 

“The moving around is kinetic energy,”

Sirius jumps to answer as well, “and our hands transfer the thermal energy,”

“Good good!” you give them a small round of applause, which they bashfully smile at, “you two are so clever!… What did I hear about this ‘transferring’ of energy, Siri?” your question comes out in a nonchalant tone. 

“Peony says that energy is stored and transferred,” Sirius answers, “and that they sometimes turn into another type of energy,”

“I see,” you look down at your own clay spheres and sheets, “where is the thermal energy from my hands coming from?” once again, they’re silent, “I think this can link to biology, specifically our biology,” that gets the cogs in their brains turning again and you can’t help but coo at their adorable thinking faces. 

“It’s from…” Regulus begins, immediately catching both yours and Sirius’ undivided attention, your eyes equally encouraging him to continue with his answer, “It’s from the energy in our food,”

Eyes sparkling with delight, you prompt him once more, “And what energy is that called?”

“…Chemical!”

“Good job!” Sirius claps for his brother’s success and reaches up for a high five that Regulus happily hits and once again, they’re grinning at each other. 

“What about for the movement?” This was a trick question but your boys are clever so you have full faith in them. Regulus already answered his share so he silently backs out from the arena by looking up at Sirius who begins to ruminate. “…well the movement has to come from somewhere, doesn’t it?” you thoughtfully point out, beginning to play around with your clay and trying to look innocent about it despite it being a definite clue. 

“It comes from us!” Sirius explains and looks down to play around with his clay too. You stay silent as you let him think and reach the conclusion on his own but you’re already so so proud of their intelligent displays, “…so it’s the same answer, it’s also from chemical energy…” he seems unsure from his tone but the minute he looks up to meet your eyes, the smile on your lips and the applause from you and Regulus has him beaming. 

“My sons are so so clever! I’m very proud of you both!”

That was enough of that — you only remember so much from your younger science education — so you move on to teach them about hatching and being able to stick two pieces of clay together with a little bit of water in order to make a small box with no lid. Thankfully, that was the final thing you intended to teach them before letting them make their own creations. 

“Now, you can make whatever you want with your clay. After this, I’ll bake them so they become solid, and then, we can paint them together. If you run out of clay, just ask and I’ll get you some more,” the two buzzed in their seats from the excitement and you were just as eager to let them loose with their creativity. “You can also make more than one thing but limit yourself to just two or three, please. Also make sure that whatever you make suits a function, it can be anything at all; you can even get some ideas from this muggle book on clay crafting,” you present them with the children’s clay craft book and place it where they can easily reach, “don’t mind getting the edges dirty, as long as the main text and pictures aren’t too muddied up by clay, it’s fine. It’s supposed to get used earnestly anyway,” they smile at your proactive reassurance but only Regulus goes for the clay book while Sirius goes about making his desired creation right away. 

For a while, Sirius cannot decide what to actually make. His speediness into action makes his younger brother peer over at him anxiously quite a few times but his initial unease gradually fades when he realises his older brother keeps changing his mind, flattening a scarcely sculpted creation just as quickly as he begins a new one. You don’t want to interrupt their independent creative flows and get to work on something you’ve already planned to create, a modest gift for your darling boys. 

Some time goes by in silence before you call for Kreacher to play one of the vinyls you managed to buy from a record shop when out on errands to muggle London. You had bought several along with the gramophone at the shop. When you first bought it home, the boys were eager to find out what it was and spent a lot of time happily winding it up so that you could all listen to the records together. It would have been preferable to get the electrical one but it would have been useless in the predominantly magic-operated house.  

“Great choice, Kreacher,” you smile at the house elf who nods timidly by the gramophone and promptly disappears when he feels as though he is no longer needed. The Beatles’ Abbey Road album plays in the background as the soundtrack to your clay sculpting session for several songs-worth of minutes before you finally get up to independently ask the boys about what they had chosen to make. ‘Oh! Darling’ sings in the distant corner as you kneel beside Sirius and quietly ask about his creation and what its function would be. In a whisper, he replies without turning to look at you, far too focused on his creation to divert any significant attention from it.  

“I’m making plant pots,” he begins, his pink tongue slightly poking out of the corner of his mouth, “for the cooking herbs you said you wanted to grow in the kitchen, but I’m also making one for Reggie since he says he wants to grow a plant in his room,” after his nonchalant explanation, your heart soars. It would be a fair assessment to say that Regulus has spoken to him about exploring gardening. You didn’t know your youngest wanted to grow a green thumb but it was a pleasant surprise — you’ll see about taking him to a muggle plant shop soon, you don’t quite trust wizarding plants in the household. A succulent or mini cactus would be a good choice. 

Pressing a kiss onto Sirius’ cheek, you whisper a soft thank you and praise his thoughtfulness before moving on to Regulus. For a moment, the elder brother wishes he could grow out his hair so that you are less likely to notice his flushed cheeks and red-tipped ears. You also kneel by Regulus’ side to whisper the same questions about his creation. 

“I’m making a little jewellery dish for your rings and necklaces and earrings, Mother. And I’m also going to make one for Siri since he’ll be getting the family ring when he’s older. Sirius’ one is going to be star-shaped because he’s named after the brightest star and yours is going to be heart-shaped because…well…” Regulus can’t finish his sentence as his blush floods his entire face with heat. But he doesn’t need to finish his explanation, he’s said all you needed to hear to coo over his thoughtfulness and press a kiss to his cheek also. They’re such sweet boys. That bitch Walburga was blessed to have them and yet she mistreated them so much, they didn’t deserve any of that. Tender love and care is what they truly deserve and that will be your sole mission and life’s purpose for this existence. 

“What are you making, Mother?” Regulus asks unprompted when you finally sit back down by your humble creations again. The youngest’s question makes Sirius perk up and eye you with interest, his grey eyes flicking between you and the carefully shaped clay by your hands. 

“I’m making little star-shaped pendants for my little star boys,” smiling at their flustered expressions, you elaborate further, “I’m going to poke a hole near the top point so I can thread it through a chain and you can wear it as a necklace or a bracelet — you can choose,” you show them one with a carved ’S’ on it, “this one is for Siri,” next you present the one with an ‘R’ on it, “and this one is for Reggie,” they beam in happiness at the getting such a personalised gift from you and continue their clay projects with new-found vigour. 

It was relatively easy to create the small star pendants so, inspired by Regulus’ creations, you proceeded to craft minimalist ring bands, one each of you. Sirius’ you carved the same sort of archaic patterns as that of his wand, for Regulus, you did simple lines with an occasional dot and for yours, evenly placed mini daisies. At first, it was purely for making sure that Regulus didn’t feel left out from Sirius getting the family ring but, looking at your modest creations, your magnate mind begins to manifest an innovative idea you’re itching to begin. Your schedule is going to fill up very quickly and soon — there isn’t a chance that you’ll wait on this. 

1st September 1971

Today couldn’t have crept up on you quickly enough. One minute you were settling into a cosy routine with your darling sons and now you were sending the eldest away for wizarding boarding school. It was happening too fast and your heart was constantly breaking from being torn between freely letting him go and childishly begging him to stay so that you could spend as much time with him as possible. Even the novelty of rushing onto platform 9¾ through the brick wall between platforms 9 and 10 couldn’t keep the tears from filling your eyes. However, your unhappiness and woe were quickly wiped away when Sirius expressed muted sadness at the idea that his father was too busy to see him off to Hogwarts. That morning, try as you might you couldn’t convince Orion to be there for his son. The git was lucky Sirius had interrupted your argument to express his acceptance and neutrality over the situation or else you would have clocked the pretentious asshole’s jaw. You would be surprised if the hypothetical punch landed hard enough to dislocate both of his temporomandibular joints. He would be eating through a tube if it weren’t for your little boy’s interruption but you’ll be sure to sink your teeth into your git of a husband as soon as you get home. 

Regulus seems to be whispering something to his older brother as they share a hug of goodbye. There was plenty of time for Sirius to get onto the train - you made sure of that - and you promised to wave him off as the train left the station so none of you were in any rush to leave the other. You kindly smile down at their wholesome interaction, completely drawn in by their innocence and heartfelt brotherly love for each other. Their relationship was worth preserving and building up. You were once saddened by Sirius and Regulus’ torn apart brotherhood but now, you’ll be devastated if your sons ever broke their bond like in the movies and books. So distracted by your loveable sons’ endearing display, you miss the shocked looks you were receiving from fellow parents of other children who were also boarding to attend Hogwarts — they simply couldn’t believe it! 

Everyone knew the matriarch of the Black family. However, the very picture of her now was not what was to be expected. Rumours of her cold and unsympathetic disposition appeared as slanderous lies when they took in your warm smile and fond stare, looking solely upon your two sons. It was well-known amongst the wizarding community that the famous Black family’s eldest son, Sirius Black, would begin attending Hogwarts this year. They expected to see a conceited and substantially reserved display of the family by the platform but not… not this! This is something for the papers! Had the matriarch of the most ancient and noble house of Black always looked this beautiful and kind? Surely not!… But their eyes weren’t being deceived, they were seeing the truth! Many gasped and openly stared, thankfully hushed down by the nosiness of the platform, whilst others didn’t know how to interpret the display and opted to avert their eyes.

Around his small wrist, Sirius keeps your clay star pendant around his wrist, which had been painted a deep black per his request while the ’S’ is marked with metallic silver paint. He has such good taste for aesthetics despite his young age. Every day there was something new to be proud of him for, no matter how little. You love being a mother!

“Oh darling, I’m going to miss you so so much. You must promise me that you’ll take care of yourself, don’t be scared about making friends,” you look him in the eye as you say so, combing your fingers through his hair and pushing away the curling locks from his forehead, “they’re going to love you just as much as I do,”

“Me too, Siri,” Regulus’ soft interjection brings out a mutual laugh from you and the eldest Black brother. Sirius brings Regulus into another hug that you are also brought into.

“And if they don’t like you then they can suffer having none of those mini pies I baked for you,” the two of you share a smirk and a wink. Sirius had requested some shelf-stable foods to bring such as his favourite chutney, jams and jerky, all homemade by you, especially for him. Of course, you didn’t say no. You even suggested bringing along something yummy for the train ride despite already providing him an allowance to spend on the trolley. 

“Regulus and I will write to you as often as we can so be on the lookout for our letters, okay?” he nods, eyes already sparkling from the anticipation and thought of receiving mail by owl solely for him. A letter addressed only to him, with his name on the envelope, and meant only for him to read — his feverish anticipation was to be expected. He couldn’t wait for his first letter. 

“I’ll write back just as much, promise!” 

“Good because if you don’t,” you scold playfully as Sirius bites back a cheeky giggle, “I’ll go to Hogwarts and demand a written letter back myself, I’ll bring Reggie with me too so that’s twice the heat you’ll be under young man, don’t forget,”

“Never,” Sirius whispers as he throws himself into your embrace once more. There’s never going to be enough hugging to satiate your aching heart, nor squash the sadness of watching your baby grow up too fast but, knowing the mischief and fun he’ll be getting up to, makes you almost giddy with excitement. You want to read all about it in his letters home! 

As much as you’d like to have said your farewells for longer, Sirius still needed to board and needed help with his luggage. Thankfully there were plenty of staff to help him lug it all around, which you smiled gratefully for. They seemed stunned by your courtesy but tipped their caps in acknowledgement and whispered a quick ‘thanks’ in return, regardless. 

Stepping back from the platform with Regulus at your side, the two of you try to follow Sirius along the train compartments as closely as you can until you finally see him settling into a box by himself. You wonder if he’ll be meeting his fellow marauders soon — god! You wish you could see them as adorable 11-year-old babies like your Sirius right now. 

Regulus toddles up to be closer to the window, opposed to the thought of separating from his brother and tries to hold one last conversation with Sirius as everyone waits for the train to depart. To hear him clearer, Sirius reaches up to open the window. Smiling at the pair fondly, you almost miss a heart-stopping sight. From your left peripheral, you spot an untameable mess of dark hair and round hazel eyes sparkling in jubilation, framed with an adorable pair of round glasses — you barely withhold your gasp of surprise. But all too soon, from your right, you glimpse a head of neatly trimmed but slightly grown-out brown hair, belonging to a rather spindly boy swamped under a cosy autumn-brown jumper. On his softly curving jaw is a light, nicking scar and when he turns his head ever so slightly, you see another more prominent scar marked across the pudge of his cheek. You’ve seen a wild, baby-ish James Potter and Remus Lupin. Almost all of the marauders were spotted getting onto the Hogwarts Express but do you even want to see the final member? No! Of course not! It was then that you noticed sandy-blonde hair weaving through the crowds of parents wishing their children farewell – a last-minute attempt at getting onto the train on time. Behind him, he is followed by a similarly blonde woman, his mother. Goodness, both share such startling similarities, both have curved edges to their silhouette, pink cheeks and sea-blue eyes. They looked like an adorable pair and you had to admit that Peter’s portly appearance made him incredibly endearing for his age. They looked like an ordinary, harmless mother-son pair, much like you and your boys…

A whistle pierces through the station and snaps you out of your daze. Finally turning back to your Sirius, your eyes tear up again for the umpteenth time that day. Regulus had rushed back to your side, clinging onto the long, black skirt of your dress with one hand as he used the other to wave goodbye. Silently, you mouth an ‘I love you’. He isn’t as surprised as when you whispered the same affection to him whilst still on the platform so he was able to mouth it back — ‘I love you too, Mother,’ — your heart pinches. Picking Regulus up, you sit him on the curve of your hip and wave Sirius off together. You see the slight shimmer of tears in Sirius’ eyes too just before the train moves too far and takes Sirius away with it. 

You miss him already.

SERIES M.LIST | NEXT. 05 : SIRIUS : FIRST DAY →

A/N : surprise! goodness, this was a really big chapter hehe~ i hope you darlings enjoyed the read! i also would like to gently remind everyone that i am no longer doing taglists but to be notified whenever i post something, please follow and turn on notifications for reblog side account: @thekqipond where i will be reblogging every new fic as soon as i post it! the reason i was able to post this chapter a month ahead of my official come-back in October was to test my taglist solution and the order of chapters i want to post by Christmas ;) i hope you enjoy!

please like, comment and reblog to show your support, i'd really appreciate it! property of kquil ; all written content is mine and no one else's unless stated otherwise ; do not steal, plagiarise, modify or translate to other sites

[commit-arson-immediately]

Facts:

The inferi only come out if someone touches the lake. People only touch the lake because the potion guarding the locket makes the drinker unimaginably thirsty.

Conclusion:

Regulus would have survived if he brought a water bottle.

[im-not-cannon]

Marauder fic prompt

The one bet Sirius won against Lily:

Sirius kept whining how happy he is in love with his boyfriend "Moony", and so one Monday morning a frustrated Lily bets she can reveal the identity of this famous, beauty-gifted-from-the-gods, Moony. With the prize being she doesn't hear a single "moony" for the next 3 weeks, Sirius, a person always eager to bet, complies. So with the help of her new-found friend from English Lit, Remus Lupin, she embarks on a 3 week quest to find this "Moony".

Or just a story of when Remus's marauder energy shines.

[arviyya]

It's amazing how much music influences writing, isn't it?

I use a lyrical quote at the beginning of every fic I write, oftentimes that quote spurred the entire brainrot.

But that's art, isn't it? we emulate our inspirations naturally, and I personally think that's a beautiful thing. Rather than art being a singular lonely entity, it's a web that connects the human experience spanning across thousands of years.

That might sound like an exaggeration, but it's not. Humans really have been in this loop since the first art appeared on the walls of ancient caves - inspired to create, creating to inspire, and on and on it goes.

That's what fanfic is at the end of the day, interpreting characters inspired by their canon selves from art that someone else created. It's all just part of the web, connecting us, and bonding us through expression.

That's the point of fandom, to connect, create, bond, and build friendships from shared love of these characters and all the silliness.

Don't forget that. Seems some of you have.

[joeytribbiani18]

Tomorrow (marauders fic)

I had an urge to write an angsty marauders fic, so here it is.

Summary: Sirius visits the Potters while they're hiding from Voldemort and makes a promise to see them again tomorrow

Word count: 895

Not proof read, I literally started writing it before midnight

James Potter x Lily Potter, Sirius Black, Harry Potter, Remus Lupin (mentioned), Lord Voldemort (mentioned)

“He’s getting bigger every time I see him. It’s kinda scary. You won’t even have time to blink and he’ll be reaching his thirties and getting drunk on the weekends.”

Lily and James laughed, their eyes trained on the little boy in between them. Harry, because the attention was on him, was currently playing with his toys, paying no mind to Sirius’ burst of melancholy. He babbled something unintelligible that made the trio’s hearts swoon even more.

“How did we deserve you?” said James, nuzzling his nose into Harry’s puffy cheek. The boy giggled under the affection of his father, and his mother hugged him from his other side.

“You guys are the best people I know. You sure as hell deserved this.”

“Thank you, Sirius,” Lily smiled at him, squeezing Harry’s palm. James grinned in appreciation for his friend’s words. He was still very insecure in his new role as a father, still making mistakes, still not being the perfect dad he wanted to be, still haunted by his teenage years and some things he did that definitely didn’t make him look like a good person. He had changed since he was fifteen years old, he matured and put all grudges behind him, but it still tormented him, knowing what he was capable of even as a kid. Any word of comfort, any reassurance that he wasn’t that person, that he was in fact good, meant the world to him. He wanted nothing more than to create the best life for Lily and Harry. 

“You seem really happy,” Sirius noted, looking at the Potters engaging in Harry’s play. “Even with all this shit happening outside.”

“Language, Sirius,” Lily scolded him, but her lips curled slightly, making her less threatening than she wished to appear. “Well, it’s not the perfect scenario, but we’re trying. We want Harry to have the best childhood, and how much better can it be than having both parents at home all the time.”

Sirius’s eyes bored into his hands, not being able to hold Lily’s gaze. It hurt him that he couldn’t do anything to relieve their pain, their fear, anything to change the prophecy or to keep Voldemort away. He did everything in his power, with other members of the Order, but it wasn’t enough. Becoming their Secret Keeper and hiding wasn’t enough. And he couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand being so helpless.

“Sirius, it’s okay, really,” Lily chimed in, seeing Sirius’s change in demeanor, “It’s not your fault. We’re scared, of course, but we won’t let it rule our lives. We’re still here, right? That has to mean something.”

Sirius met her eyes, only then noticing how teary his own became, “I’m just so scared for you guys. I wish I could do something.”

“You can’t, Pads,” James smiled sadly, “And that’s okay. You’re doing more than we could’ve asked for, risking your life for us.”

“Are you kidding me? I would jump into the fire for you all.”

“It’s a kind gesture, but I don’t think it will be necessary,” James chuckled, “Seriously, it’s okay. We won’t let him win, right? Our guys are succeeding with each day, it will be over soon. And until then, we’ll stay here. We’ll be alright.”

Sirius nodded, although he wasn’t really convinced. He wouldn’t admit it, though, so he forced a smile, and centered his attention back on Harry, who was now trying to match shapes into their cut-outs. 

“You’re doing so well, little guy,” he ruffled his curly, unruly hair, something he was still doing with James. He stayed at the Potters playing with Harry, drinking tea, and reminiscing about the past with his best friends until the evening when he had to go back into his hiding place.

“Remember about tomorrow!” James shouted over Harry’s small head leaning on his shoulder, while Sirius was putting on his coat.

“How could I forget Halloween at the Potters?” he responded teasingly, “It’s like a national holiday.”

“I’m so ready to see your costume,” Lily added, leaning on James’s other shoulder, “Just please, don’t dress up as David Bowie again.”

“No, that’ll be Moony,” Sirius smiled, one of his hands on the doorknob. He looked at his friends, so young, yet so tired with everything that dawned on them. And they were still so happy, like there wasn’t a war happening outside their doorstep. They were in their little bubble of happiness, and Sirius felt as if he might cry. They deserved that kind of love they had for each other and their son the most. Sirius really meant it: he had never met people with kindest hearts that their own. They deserved the world, and yet they had almost everything taken away from them. And they were still happy.

Sirius took a mental picture of this moment, of Lily and James holding their son, smothering him with their love, a perfect image of a perfect family. He wanted it to last forever, because he didn’t know how many forevers they had left. 

“Okay, I have to go now. Bye, little menace,” Sirius said, waving at Harry. 

“Bye, uncle Pads,” James responded, waving back to Sirius with Harry’s little hand, “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah… tomorrow.”

He stepped outside and apparated to his hideout, glancing at the Potters’ house one last time. 

It is safe to say that tomorrow never came. 

You can also read it on AO3:

I'm so sorry