#sirius x alastor x moody

[del-stars]

I feel like Kingsley would show remus a good time thoughts? 🎤🎤

mmmmmm mhm mhm mhm here’s how it goes

sirius stops special guest starring bc he’s like. fuck i need to focus on classes & get a job & figure my shit out. + alastor’s getting weird abt it (like he hasn’t been the entire time… anyway) so kingsley sits sirius down & is like. “i think it would be good for you to date in your own age group.” so sirius is like okay!! & moves on to remus who is a) a virgin and b) has been desperately in love with him for years. but remus is SO intimidated by this whole throuple scenario bc he has very limited experience. and then alastor starts coming back around bc he’s obsessed w sirius ofc & kingsley is like this HAS to stop. so he picks remus up & is like u gotta get it together. remus has no idea what he’s doing. so kingsley takes him Out On The Town & indeed shows him a good time & spends a few weeks ummmm showing remus the ropes on ermmmm enjoying quality time with sirius.

i feel like wolfstar would hang out with stormking 😭😭 not even in a sexual way that’s just their Gay Mentors. like they take them out to nice dinners & wolfstar teach stormking the Young Gay Lingo & shit

[unconventional-lawnchair]

We'll heal together: Chapter Five

I Will Wait Mumford & Sons

Sirius Black x Reader (Past) / Remus Lupin x Reader (Ambiguous-Past)

Masterlist

Summary: Reader is still having dreams of her past, while McGonagall convinces Dumbledore to remove the curse on her.

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, Mean Remus, Jealous/Jerk Sirius, Fights, mentions of death and murder, minor character death (please reach out if I missed something}

Wc- 4364

A/n: Starting a taglist! Comment to Dm to be added!

You stayed in Moody’s comfort for what felt like hours. You could have stayed for days more, but eventually the strain to your still throbbing limbs and aching body was doing you in.

Moody practically herded you to the couch, allowing you to sit down, and after some push back with him trying to get you to lay down, he eventually gave in and allowed you to sit across from him. Pillows propping up your sides, a horrible tasting healing potion, a cup of tea for a chaser, and a blanket rested on your lap later, you two figured starting from day one was the best course of action.

“October 29th, 1981. What happened?” Moody asked in a careful but stern tone. You weren't used to him being so gentle with you, you guessed twelve years apart could do that to a person. You gave a sigh and set the teacup aside, relaxing back into the makeshift throne and looked at the ceiling, eyes closing as the pain began to disappear. 

“It was a botched mission. Someone sold us out.” You explained slowly.

~~

“With Mad-Eye out of commission sick, we need someone to go in his place.” Gideon told you, having knocked on your door late at night with Fabian at your gate keeping watch. Gideon took the paper that etched out your address, Lupin’s handwriting scribbled on the crumbled paper, as the elder twin set it in your outstretched hand. With the Fidelius charm that protected your home ever since Voldemort marked you for death, you made an impulsive decision to make Lupin your secret keeper.

You hadn't spoken to Sirius in months after your argument and subsequently, your break up. Peter and you were already the Potter’s secret keepers, the last logical step would be Remus. Especially after what happened to Marlene and Dorcus just a few months prior. He was hesitant at first, but when you pushed he caved. He always made it easy for you.

(“You weren't suspicious?” Mad-Eye demanded and you quickly shook your head. “No, if Lupin had to write my address down it meant something. He refused to do it every time he'd been asked, said it was too easily given to others.”)

You snapped your fingers, and the paper burned to ash at your feet. “I didn't know Moody could get sick.” You tried to joke, and Gideon gave you a grimace and Fabian looked back at you two. Your lips twitched. The twins aren't joking? That's slightly nerve wracking. 

“So? What do you say?” Gideon implored, and you nodded, biting your lip. 

“Let me get dressed.”

~~

“They came to your house at midnight to recruit you for a mission?” Moody asked in a shocked and angry tone. “One you weren't briefed on? My mission?” He implored and you gave a small nervous smile, to keep the peace.

“It wasn't the first time if it makes you feel better.”

“Far worse.” Moody practically shouted and you winced. He huffed and lowered his voice, arms crossing and leaning back in his seat. “So what next?”

“Well, I got ready and we left to get to the rendezvous point. It should have been simple, just ambushing a few dark wizards couldn't have been much harder then what we had been doing. The tip said there should be three, two already there and one coming later with what we assumed to be supplies we could garnish.”

~~

“I don't see anyone.” Fabian announced as you three sat among the trees. His wand was to his throat, so even with him across the clearing his voice was transported to your ear, where the weird snake ear clip they gave you relayed his voice. The twins had always been making trinkets and inventions, ever since you first met them, that was one of their defining traits. That and they were absolute children, who tested them on you any chance they got.

“Shouldn't there be people here by now?” You asked, pressing your wand to your jugular, and you heard shuffling before Gideon spoke up. “Maybe we're early?”

(“If you felt it was off you should have left.”

“Would you have?”)

Suddenly there was a loud sound of apparition behind you. You snapped your head around and went silent. Fuck.

There before you were five death eaters and they didn't seem ready for a simple trade off. Fully decked out in battle gear, they began to walk around the clearing and muttered things between themselves.

Then, a voice boomed through the forest. “Alastor Moody!” He called into the clearing. You knew that voice immediately, your stomach dropped. Antonin Dolohovs. “Moody, come out my old friend!” 

You looked to your sides and peaked at Fabian who tightened his grip on his wand, then to your right and saw Gideon already looking at you. He gestured down hill, as if telling you to run, and you refused. Shaking your head you looked back at your left and the other Prewett twin seemed to have the same idea. You pressed your wand to your neck and lowered your voice, as Antonin went on a manic rant. 

“We need more men. One of us has to get someone.” You implored before you quickly hitched your breath as one of the five Death Eaters got too close to your hiding spot.

“Gideon, you do it.” You heard Fabian command and Gideon gave a huff.

“We should send the kid.” He hissed back. “We can stand our own.”

“Send {L/N}? The girl who is supposed to be in hiding straight to the rat infested Ministry? No chance.”

You held your breath as your back nuzzled closer to the tree root you hid in. The closer he got the louder your heart blared in your ears. You took a deep breath as he began to slip past the root and almost spotted you. That was, until Fabian recklessly shot a spell at him. Everything happened in slow motion. 

Gideon raised his wand, mid apparition, watched as Dolohov raised his wand and shouted. “Crucio!” But he couldn't stop, apparating away from the field as his brother wailed.

Fabian fell to the floor, and you covered your mouth. Quickly shooting your hands to your ears and your body shook out in terror at his blood curdling screams.

“I found another one!” One of them shouted and grabbed you by your arm, dragging you out. Tossing you on the ground by your limp friend. You shuttered and quickly stammered to your feet, hurrying to back pedal away from them, before your back fell against Antonin’s chest. Quickly, you tried to rectify your actions, but he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and tucked you closer. You squirmed and hissed, stomping back to try and hit your heel to his shoe.

It worked and he flinched hard enough for you to get out of his grasp. You went for your sleeve but froze when you looked at the manic wizard and saw him holding up your wand. He had snagged it in your tussle. “Fuck...” You whispered and he bellowed a laugh.

“Moody sent you instead, huh? Pretty thing you are, can't possibly have been on your own for longer than a year.” He taunted but you kept your expression mute. The less he knew about you, the better. 

“Wait, sir.” One of his lackeys spoke up and you stifled a wince. “That's {Y/N} {L/N}.” He declared with a shocked laugh. ��Voldemort would be ecstatic if we brought her to him.”

Antonin looked you over before he wet his lip and fiddled with your wand. “{L/N}, hm? Your father has done a lot for our cause.” He gave a sickening curl to his lips as he pressed the wand to your neck. “Thank you for your service, darling. Let's get you home.” 

Before you could even formulate a plan, one of his other lackeys pointed their wand to Fabian.

“No!” You screamed, shoving past Antonin and running towards the two, but halfway there and the words already left his lips. Avada Kedavra. Your entire body froze up as your eyes locked with Fabian's, and you watched the light leave them. You stood there, horrified. The men around you didn't even see you as a threat. They allowed you to stand there, talking among themselves. 

You felt pathetic. Without a wand you couldn't do a thing. You found yourself wishing you studied wandless magic, because you were truly as weak as you felt. Just a girl. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. 'What's your last resort?’ You heard Alastor’s words echo in your ears. Run.

So, you ran. Bolted for the tree line. Alastor always told you, if you had no other choice, you were young. ‘Strip your battle gear,’ You heard him as you tore off the blackened leather wrap around your chest, vaulting over an overgrown tree root. Tossing your bulky boots and sharply turning your direction as you heard their shouts after you. ‘Get out of eyesight, go one direction, leave evidence of the contrary.’ 

You stumbled to a small river and looked around. Their voices that were once fading outgrew closer. You were breathing heavily, your socks were stained and one bloodied from a sharp rock cutting your toe, too filled with adrenaline to notice. You looked around before you took the bloodied sock and wet it, chucking it across the body of water before turning sharply on your heel and ran across the tree line to hide behind a moss-covered rock.

You held your breath, closing your eyes tight and remembered his number one rule. ‘Never panic.’ So, you sat there. Their voices and footsteps passed, and eventually you heard splashing as they ran across the river and soon you couldn't hear them at all. You waited a little bit longer before you looked around. You had no wand, no plan, nothing. All you could hope was that Fabian still had his. 

You shakily rose to your feet and began to stalk back. 

You hadn't realized just how far you had gone. When you made it back, the moon was in the middle of the sky, and Gideon was still not back. You kneeled down by Fabian's body and turned him over. You gave a sigh of relief when you saw his wand. You kept your hand on his chest, it was still warm, like it was taunting you. You thinned your lips and raised his wand to the sky. “Expecto Patronum!” You declared. 

You were weak, so was the disobedient wand, struggling to focus on the good in your mind. You waved your hand, and the fox finally appeared. “Take this message to Lupin.” You whispered softly. “Ambushed. Fabian, dead. Gideon, status unknown. May be splinched.” You panted out. “Running. Five looking for me. Antonin Dolohov.” It's all you could muster, quickly dismissing your patronus and looking back to Fabian. “I just... need to rest.” You whispered as you felt yourself slowly fall against his stomach.

You didn't know how long you were out for, but the first thing you heard was Albus’s soothing voice. You stirred. 

“There you are.” 

You turned to look at him and grimaced, slowly lifting yourself off of your friend and shaking to stand. Dumbledore walked over to help support you. You could have sobbed out, letting your body fall against his chest. You didn't even have time to wonder why he was here, not Remus or Gideon. “H-he-”

“I know. I know dear child.” He hushed and ran his hand up and down your back. You shook and sobbed in his arms, and he looked across the field. 

Albus pulled back and you looked up at him threw glossy eyes, arms still outreached and resting on his forearms, looking for any semblance of warmth and comfort. “We found your letters.” He told you carefully. “We know you have been in contact with Regulus Black via concealed letter since you graduated. Before his passing.” 

The heat left your face. What? How did they find those? How did he know? And why was he bringing this up, now?

“Sir, I-”

“Voldemort knows as well.”

You almost fainted. “Is that why?”

“He is after you? Yes. Now, I have a plan to keep you safer than I have. Keep this conversation renewed in your mind, so one day, we will be able to use this connection.” 

“What are you talking about?” You croaked, looking over at Fabian’s body in a daze. This felt like the cruelest form of whiplash. “Professor-”

“This is for the better, {Y/N}.” He muttered against your temples you sniffled. “What is?” You croaked, and he raised his wand to your head. 

“Obliviate.”

~~

“And that was the last thing I remembered.” You sighed and grabbed your teacup, holding it to your palm for warmth. Moody seemed to be a little slower as he realized what was happening.

“Albus Obliviated you?” He asked in a breathy way, you slowly nodded. “... and you've been alive, all these years?”

“Would seem so.” You mumbled and picked at the helm of your shirt. There was a silence, it wasn't awkward, but it certainly wasn't comforting. 

“Lily, James, and Harry?” You croaked out and when Moody grimaced, your heart broke. 

“The boy is alive.” Moody offered and you nodded slowly, trying to gather yourself. Your voice cracked as you began to speak. “Sirius took care of him, yeah?”

Moody frowned harder and you narrowed your eyes. “No... he didn't abandon him, did he?” You prayed to whichever of the cruel gods was above you that it was a joke.

“He was, until recently, imprisoned in Azkaban.” He mused and your shoulders fell in shock, eyes wide. 

“I- you- I-” You sputtered out. “Whatever for?” You implored and leaned forward. 

“He sold out the Potters and... killed Peter Pettigrew.” He spoke carefully, knowing how close you two were, slow and delicate. Your eyebrows furrowed and your lips parted slightly. 

“... what? Peter is... is dead?” You whispered in shock before your eyes widened. “Wait- Sirius killed Peter?!” You bellowed and snapped up to your feet. 

Alastor stood up and walked towards you, but you began to pace. 

“Why would he possibly need to kill him? And he would never sell out the Potters! He'd sooner die! How did he even manage to tell Voldemort!?” You practically shouted and Alastor scoffed. “A secret keeper can tell anyone.”

Then, your eyes widened, snapping over to look at Alastor. “Moody- no, Peter and I-” Then it hit you. It hit you like a bludger to the chest. Your air left your lungs. 

“Moody, Peter and I were the Potter’s secret keepers.” You whispered in a shaky voice. Moody's expression stayed blank, but his false eye began to flicker side to side showing he was deep in thought. 

“Merlin...”

“Peter would never, he wouldn't-” You stopped and had to think about everything you knew about Peter. He was a coward, but he was bold. He was meek and quiet, but he was confident with you. He was always charming and sweet, but you had heard from Mary and Dorcus how they saw him as slimy when he didn't get what he wanted. 

The more you thought about him, the more traits you came up with for him, the more evidence there was for the contrary. Did you ever truly know Peter Pettigrew? Years ago, you would've laid down your life on the fact that Peter was trustworthy, honest, brave and kind. But the more you pondered it, he was always those things to you. Just to you. You covered your face in shame. “No...”

Moody walked up and patted your back as you tried to come to terms with it all. “But he- I- Rem! What of Remus?” 

“The Lycanthrope?” Moody tutted and you glared up at him. “Don't call him that.”

Moody nodded with an eye roll and gestured to the seat for you. 

You walked back over and sat down. Moody beside you. “After your disappearance, Albus called an emergency meeting. We gathered, and Albus told us of you and Fabian's death. That Gideon was leaving the order and going to America. Molly was inconsolable.”

~~

“No! No no no!” Molly sobbed into Authur’s arms, Albus looked down solemnly at his hands.

A scoff came across the table. “That's it? That's all we get?” Sirius snarled and shot to his feet. “Who did it?” He boomed across the table. He was tired of losing people. But losing you, now, that was a new kind of pain. One he didn't want to discover quite yet, so he lashed out in anger. He hadn't felt like this since he heard of Regulus’s death.

 “Who!?” He demanded as Albus kept a solemn and pitiful look. It burned Sirius up inside. 

“Antonin Dolohov.” Remus spoke up from across the table. He was looking down, eyes bloodshot and clearly distressed. He was in his sleep wear, having been woken up late at night by a glowing blue fox. He could hear what she said over and over in his head. When he got there and found Dumbledore, looking down at Fabian. There was blood, and Remus could smell it. Dark magic and you.

“Ambushed. Fabian, dead. Gideon, status unknown. May be splinched. Running. Five looking for me. Antonin Dolohov.”

“How the fuck do you know that?” Sirius sneered and Remus closed his eyes. “She sent me a Patronus.” 

“Of course she did.” He snapped at Remus, slamming his hands on the table. “Of course she'd send it to you, wouldn't she? I bet that makes you feel real special, getting her last words.”

Remus gawked at Sirius in pure shock. It felt like he stupefied him to his chest. “And what's that supposed to mean?” He suddenly snapped back and stood as well. Alice was quick to nudge Frank, both parties standing up to make sure the two didn't jump across the table and shred each other. 

“Do you think I'm daft? Do you think I didn't notice the way you looked at my Fianc��, Remus?” He bellowed across the room and Remus gave a laughing scoff. “This is how you want to have this conversation, Sirius? Now?” He snapped back and Sirius gave an incredulous laugh.

“When else? She's fucking dead, she can't come save you now.” 

“You've gone mental!”

“No one worth being sane for left!”

“Maybe if you hadn't left her, this wouldn't be happening!” Remus shouted and that seemed to physically stun Sirius. “If you hadn't pushed her away until she hit her breaking point, until she had to come to me of all people, you could be at home right now waking up to her! But you didn't, you failed her Sirius.” Remus cut and cut as deep as he could. Sirius was silent for a moment and his mouth grew dry. Suddenly, he picked up a plate and threw it at Remus, the latter just managing to sidestep it before the Black stormed out.

Alice tutted and Remus looked down at her, breathing heavily. Slowly, he noticed the looks of pure horror on everyone's face. He knew he had gone too far. He cleared his throat and muttered an apology, turning to quickly leave.

Through all the chaos, no one noticed Peter leave moments later. He was walking down the street. His hands in his pockets and head down. Lost in deep thought, about you. No one truly knew the snake that was Peter Pettigrew. He was a people pleaser, he wanted validation and clung to the biggest bully in the yard like a vise. Originally, that was why he wanted to get to know you. You were James Potter's childhood friend, but you also managed to befriend several of the most influential Slytherins and purebloods of their school years. You were confident, unashamed to be you, the opposite of him. 

The more he got to know you, however, the more he truly cared. He loved his friends, he loved them all, but there was only one he'd fight for. You. Foolish you. You swore to him you would give your life for the Potters, for Sirius and Remus, himself included, but he never wanted it to get this far. When he first found the letters between you and Regulus, he felt hope. That maybe, just maybe, you were like him. Buying yourself time with information.

He hoped that when he brought these letters to Voldemort, he would finally be convinced of your worth to the cause. That he would lend him more time to let him convert you. Then the dark lord sent out a notice for your capture; he knew he had made a mistake. He should have de-charmed and read the letters himself, but it was all he could think of. Your safety, with him, like he always promised.

Last night was a fluke. A fluke that cost him more than he was willing to put on the line. It should have been Moody. That's what he knew, Moody, and the Prewetts. They should have been the ones to die that night. Instead, it was you. You lost your life, as you always promised, for the cause.

The cause? The cause. The cause that sent in children to die like cattle. His dearest friend falling to the hands of a god he placated. You died for the Potters. For Black. For Lupin. You died for him… Anger bubbled under the surface. The charm was broken, he would go to the Potters to repair it tonight. Then, he would be there the next night, with the dark lord by his side. He wanted them to hurt. To hurt like he was, to ensure they had no one else. No one, like him. 

~~

“But that leaves one thing that I do not understand.” Moody challenged and you rolled your tongue. He opened his coat and pulled out a long box, holding it out to you. You narrowed your eyes before he opened it, revealing a wand. Not any wand, your wand. You gasped and reached for it, before he quickly shut it closed. You glared at him, and he flicked the box onto his lap. The box looked worn, like it had been in his pocket for years. It made you feel warm. He has been keeping you close this whole time. You were not forgotten. But clearly, he planned to make you work for it.

“What is it?”

“What was in those letters? And why were you talking to the youngest Black?” He leaned closer, trying to use the same techniques he taught you about interrogation. You rolled your eyes, you can count on one hand the number of times you lied to Moody since you were 16, you didn't plan to keep counting. Four times.

“He was telling me things. Things about Voldemort’s plans, what he had done and who he had done it to. In exchange, I kept him updated on Sirius, I promised to keep him safe. He also kept me up to date on a few Death Eaters I had known in school. I want to tell you, but I feel I should talk to Dumbledore first. I feel I deserve a proper explanation as to why this happened to me.” You muttered bitterly and then your face scrunched up in a pout. “I also have a certain cat to see.”

“Cat?”

“Glasses.” You mumbled and Moody shook his head in confusion. Tossing the box on the table and you quickly snatch it, opening it up and pulling out your wand with a sigh of relief.

“Until further notice, you are to be on house arrest.”

“What? That can't be true! Isn't Voldemort gone?” You scoffed, crossing your arms. 

“There are some who believe otherwise. Regardless, you are dead, the minister is still working through a story to tell the world about your reappearance.”

You scoffed and rubbed your temple. “And what of Harry? Who has he been with?” You challenged and Moody frowned.

“His mother’s sister.”

“That monster!? No, Moody, I must see him!” You begged. “I have no idea what they could have done to that boy! He deserves to be with family!” You stood up sharply and Moody scoffed.

“The boy is with family!”

“No, for Merlin’s sake he is not! I am his family! Sirius and Remus! I don't care what anyone has said, Petunia Evans is a wicked monster of a woman! I have heard Lily’s horror stories! I am his Godmother! I demand to see him!” Your voice filled the entire house. Lily had spent most of her school years protecting you from your family, you have left her son for twelve years, unable to protect him from her family. He deserved a home, you don't care what people seem to think, people like her could not change.

“And what a Godmother you will be, your home has no wards protecting it, you have nowhere to take him, and your vaults are locked until your Godson turns 18! You must wait until the minister announces you are safe to resume your life!”

“This is absolute shite!” You snapped and stormed towards the stairs like an emotional teenager. “I am going to my room!”

“And stay in there!” He snapped back as your footsteps stomped up the steps and the sound of a slamming door rang through the house.

Even after that argument, Moody couldn't help but sit down and smile at the fireplace. You were annoying and unruly, and he has missed that spunk.

~~  “Make that five.” You muttered to yourself. You walked over to the radio and turned it on. You muttered a small enchantment on a pillow, and it began to levitate. You pushed it out the window and jumped onto it. It began to fall quickly, before you transformed. The sudden shift in weight slowed the descent significantly. You landed in the grass and hurried out into the field. Making sure no one could see you, being a fox was fox was fine, but being a silver, fox is what raised eyebrows. Sorry Moody, I have to see my Harry.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 2 - Thriller

@wolfstarmicrofic July 2, word count 989

CW- Blood, guns, gunshot, open wound

Sirius darted down side streets and into alleyways. He gasped for breath, his chest heaving as it dragged oxygen into his exhausted body. Pounding footsteps approached. He ducked down behind the small rubbish bins, clamping his hand over his mouth, so his rapid breathing didn’t give him away. 

Multiple footsteps ran past his hiding place, but one set lingered, turning into the alleyway. Sirius took a few steadying breaths and tensed his muscles, ready for action. The person came closer, kicking the bins out of his way. There was only one bin left between them. With all his remaining strength, Sirius kicked the bin, knocking his pursuer to the ground. He launched himself over him, catching a glimpse of his face on his way past. The man’s mask had slipped. It was Regulus. Fuck! Sirius took off running the way he’d come, the others long gone. A shot rang out behind him as he sped around a corner. It just missed him, ricocheting off the wall right where his head had been a second before. Regulus never missed. What was he playing at? Sirius didn’t hang around to find out.

He laid low until he could get to the safe house. When he finally felt it was safe, he made his way there, making sure she wasn’t followed. A grizzled man was waiting for him. He held a gun to Sirius’s temple while he searched him and took the flash drive from his pocket. 

“Congratulations, Black. You managed to not fuck up an assignment or get killed doing so,” Moody grunted at him. 

“Regulus was there,” He told him. Moody took a deep breath and growled. 

“Did he make you?” He spat through his teeth. 

“I don’t know. I threw a bin at him and ran. He took a shot, but he missed and you know he never misses his target.” Moody grumbled something under his breath that Sirius didn’t catch. 

“We’re going to get you a partner for your next mission. Ah, no, I don’t want to hear it, Black,” He said when Sirius tried to protest. “If Regulus is caught up in this then it’s too dangerous to send you out alone. He knows how you think, how you move and how you fight. You’ll be a liability we can’t afford to have.” Sirius gritted his teeth, but he knew it was for the best. 

“Who do you have in mind?” He blew out. Resigned to his fate. 

“New lad. Ridiculously smart. Calm in a crisis. Perfect balance for you and your chaos.” Sirius rolled his eyes. 

“Has Mr Perfect got a name then?” 

“Remus Lupin,” Moody grinned a toothy smile. Sirius felt a chill wash over him. 

Remus Lupin turned out to be a tall, skinny, well-spoken man who shouldn't have been anywhere near all this.

 Moody had them train together. “I want you to know each other inside and out. Shut up Black, that is not what I meant and you know it.” Sirius bit his tongue to keep from smiling. “You need to work together or no assignments. Do I make myself clear?” They both nodded.

They trained together for weeks, learning how the other moved and thought until they flowed around each other, predicting what the other was going to do before they’d even thought about it. 

The other side had a plan for something terrible and it was their job to infiltrate and find out what was going to happen. 

Sirius watched in awe as Remus expertly picked the locks on a small side door and they slipped into the dark building. 

It was freezing inside. Sirius shook it off, getting his head in the zone. 

They made slow progress up the levels. Riddle would be on the top floor, with his second-in-command on the floor below. That’s where the information would be. 

He couldn’t shake off the feeling that this was too easy. Why hadn’t they met any of the grunts lower down? 

He gingerly pushed open the door to the floor they needed and crept into the large-decadently-styled open room. Remus sped across the room to the computer and began trying to find the information. It was taking too long, and Sirius felt the panic setting in. 

“Hurry up, Remus,” He hissed, his gun trained on the only door in or out of the room. A hidden door on the far wall opened silently. 

“Tut tut, brother of mine. I don’t think you’re supposed to be in here, are you?” Regulus drawled, his gun pointing at Remus. “Call off your man and I might let you out of this building,” Sirius froze and turned to Remus in horror. 

“Come on, Reggie, you know it’s me you want.”  

“I’ve been watching you, Sirius. I know exactly how you feel about him,” Sirius swallowed. Remus typed furiously on the computer. He gasped and met Sirius’s eyes. He’d found something. Remus suddenly jumped up, a flash drive in his hand.

Regulus cocked his gun.

“You don’t think you’re going anywhere with that, do you?” Regulus held out his hand. “Give it here, Lupin.” He swung his gun to Sirius, who’d started inching towards Remus. “Ah, ah, Sirius, no sneaking now. Hand it over, Lupin!” He repeated, pulling back the hammer on the gun. “Final warning, give it to me!” 

The gun went off and Sirius dove in front of Remus. 

He felt a strange pressure, he looked down and saw a small hole just below his heart, red liquid dribbling out. 

“Oh, shit,” He breathed out. Remus rushed to his side and grabbed his hand, pressing it into the wound. He screamed. 

“Keep your hand there and don’t move it,” Remus grunted as he threw Sirius over his shoulder and fled the building. 

He woke up in the hospital, somehow alive, Remus holding onto his hand and all he could think was Regulus never missed. So why had he for a second time?

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

Ur intro post said that u ship moody x sirius... bro I need to know abt this bro pls elaborate bro pls I'm desperate I'm on my knees this sound slike such a good ship bro pls bro

bro dw bro ill give you all my thoughts bro ily bro

umum okay so when sirius joins the order he is not used to having absolutely authority so he immediately goes to moody to take on more missions to up his rank (and because he feels an overwhelming amount of guilt for the war and his family's part in it and how he can see his best friends suffering but shh) and moody sees an overconfident kid who thinks he rules the world - only he's actually pretty grand at whatever he does, and though he doesn't go on any dangerous missions immediately (duh) he is very good at his tasks and has an impressive set of skills. they end up talking a lot - they have mutual respect for each other and they're both notoriously hard to please. obviously, sirius' daddy issues are roaring throughout. the guy who's known for being a dick is nice to him ?? yeah he's down BAD. and because he's sirius black, alastor takes a liking to him instantly. he thinks sirius is the coolest little shit.

but like the fun starts like in the war. sirius hates seeing alastor disappear and get hurt and grow more and more paranoid, he sees how alastor shuts him out and won't tell him shit which !! bothers him !! a lot !! for once he can't protect the person he loves because he's completely helpless , and same for alastor !! sirius does (very quickly!) starts going on all thse dangerous missions and it's scary because moody knows theres a very real possibility he may not come back in one piece, if at all.

and like ughh these two emotionally constipated assholes falling for each other and they have problems with intimacy and pride and trust and um everything and they work through it, somewhat, but it's so hard sometimes it doesn't even seem worth it and it hurts them both but they love each other smm !!

and then !! sirius gets arrested and alastor hates him !! sirius is begging for anyone to listen to him and he hopes alastor comes because he's the only one sirius could possibly confide in now that james is gone, but alastor doesn't fight to give him a trial or ever visit - and sirius is just !! left alone with another person he hurt on his head !! and alastor worked so hard to open up to him and he just shuts down forever and he's so angry and he hates himself for letting a traitor get to him and when sirius escapes azkaban alastor works so so hard to catch him and sirius is so scared because he knows moody and he knows how brilliant he is and that's why he's barely not padfoot !

and then its revealed sirius was innocent and moody hates himself all over again, because he's lost the easy going prideful bastard he fell in love with forever! sirius is broken and repressed and quiet and moody and alastor is just. in pain. because he knew sirius before this. he still remembers all their inside jokes and their petty arguments and he knows they'll never have that again because sirius keeps himself so distant and alastor never learned how to get close to someone - it was always sirius making the effort.

and then sirius dies :(

[toomanyfandoms-notenoughfics]

Celestial Beings

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘖𝘯𝘦: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨

Characters- Alastor Moody, Molly Weasley, Reader

Summary- It's an introduction to our Reader's situation, laying the groundwork for the rest of the story. Don't worry, Remus and Sirius will be in the next chapter.

Word Count- 1,342

Warnings- None really for this chapter, slight mention of torture

Confusion is the first thing (y/n) felt. Then it was the raging headache and the pain in her lower abdomen. She opened her eyes, only to be met with more darkness, the sound of dripping water echoing throughout whatever room she was in. (Y/n) was not sure of how she got here, or even as to where “here” is.

The last thing (y/n) remembered was sneaking out of Borgin and Burke’s while everyone else was distracted. Just needing a bit of fresh air. Then, right as she shut the door and rounded the corner, there was a flash of color and the world went dark.

Suddenly the old iron door swung open with enough force to make the cement wall behind it crumble ever so slightly. Light followed soon after, the person who had entered silently casting Lumos. (Y/n) squinted, trying to grow accustomed to the now very bright room, shielding her eyes with her arm.

“You’re up,” grunted the man. “Finally we can talk.”

(Y/n) stayed silent, taking the opportunity to survey the room they were in. Room was too nice of a word, it was more like a cubby. The walls and floors seemed to be either stone or concrete, cracks covered the one farthest from the door. In one of the corners was a sleeping bag with an old ratty blanket.

“Are you listening to me?” Barked the old man. “If not I suggest you start, otherwise this will begin to be quite unpleasant for you.”

“I’m sorry, but was that a threat or a promise?” (Y/n) taunted. “Because either way I don’t care.”

“Are you sure about that? I don’t think you quite grasp the situation here. I’m very willing to do whatever I must to gather information out of you, regardless of my own morals and emotions.” He lowered his wand, just enough so (y/n) could see his face.

(Y/n) recognized him instantly, and it must have shown on her face due to his chuckle. His eye, or rather the prosthetic he had for his eye, gave him away instantly. This wasn’t one of Lucius’s loyalty tests, nor was it someone who she could easily run from. This was Mad-eye Moody, an Auror known for going to extremes to get what he needs.

“Now, perhaps you need some time to think on my offer, after all, I hit you with a very strong stunning spell. Who knows,” Moody shrugged. “Maybe some more time in the dark will be just what you need to get your thoughts together. I’ll come back tomorrow, hopefully, your stance will have changed by then.”

“I highly doubt it.” (Y/n) sneered. “After all, if you are my captor, that gives me all the more reason to stay quiet.”

Moody put out his light and shut the door, leaving (y/n) in complete darkness yet again. She slowly felt her way across the floor, finding the sleeping bag and blanket. She sat, cross-legged on the sleeping bag, pulling the blanket onto her lap.

“Is this a test?” She thought to herself. “Could he be secretly under a curse? Or maybe he’s been in on it from the beginning, plenty of death eaters are on the other side as spies, some with deeper covers than others.”

(Y/n)‘s eyes started to adjust, it wasn’t pure darkness but there wasn’t any true light source either. She could faintly make out the barrier spells on the walls, and more importantly the door. The pale blue shade helping give the room a form, like seeing on a grid, with no detail just the dimensions. She ran her hand across the wall, watching the spell turn into darker hues the closer she got.

Sighing she rested her head against the cool wall, closing her eyes. “Test or not, I hate this place. I can’t even tell how long it’s been since I woke up, let alone since Borgin’s.”

It seemed to be an eternity before the door opened once more, this time a woman holding a lantern entered. She was red-headed, a little plump, and had the faintest of smiles on her face. She looked (y/n) up and down, and the smile slowly disappeared, instead replaced with pursed lips.

“Dear, did they not give you a change of clothes? Or at least a pillow?” The woman tutted. “Well, can I interest you in some stew? Just made some for dinner, and figured you might be a bit starving as well.”

“Wait, I’ve seen her before, she isn’t a Death Eater. This can’t be a test, not unless the Weasleys have suddenly changed their opinions.” (Y/n) backed farther away, causing the Weasley woman to frown.

“I promise it isn’t poisoned. Might be a bit cooled off by now, but still enough to be edible.” The woman reached behind the door, bringing out a small wooden bowl and setting it on the ground. “Here, I’ll take a bite first to prove it.”

“I’m not hungry.” (Y/n)‘s stomach however believed otherwise, grumbling in betrayal as she spoke.

“I’ll just leave it here, in case you find yourself hungry later.” The Weasley woman said, backing out of the doorway. “I’ll see what I can do about getting you some light and a change of clothes. Moody seems to think the only way to go against someone is to behave the same way they would.”

(Y/n) sat there and waited for the door to shut and the light from under it to fade. As soon as she was back in the dark she snuck forwards towards the bowl. Very carefully and very slowly she searched the floor for it. Grasping the bowl with both hands she started eating ravenously.

Gently placing the bowl back in front of the door, she stood up, stretching her legs out. Wiping the sides of her mouth with the back of her sleeves she chuckled. The stew was better than anything Narcissa ever had someone else make. Feeling along the walls, (y/n) started walking in circles, watching the colors grow and fade as she moved her hand along the barriers.

After concluding there were no weaknesses, (y/n) found her way back to the makeshift bed. She had found where the dripping was coming from, it was on the wall left of the door, almost perfectly nestled into a crack in the corner. She wrapped the blanket around herself, opting to fall asleep rather than await another visit while staring at the nothingness of her room.

When (y/n) woke up for what seemed to be the 100th time, nothing new or changed in the cell. The blanket was still scratchy, there was no light, and her bones ached. She felt around, finding a small bit of concrete, and threw it towards the door. Just as it reached the barrier the door opened, filling the room with blinding light once more.

“You know, a heads up would be nice.” (Y/n) groaned, squinting towards the door and watching Moody enter in. “Oh, it’s just you.”

“Have you had ample time to decide?” Moody ignored her remarks, shutting the door behind him and hanging the lamp on a small hook next to him. “It would be much easier on you if you just answered my questions without a fight. Otherwise, well, I’m sure you’re familiar with all the different ways to get people to reveal their secrets.”

“Go ahead, what’s really going to happen,” (Y/n) stood up and stretched. “It won’t matter if I tell you the truth or not, you’ll never fully believe I’m being honest. It’s okay, it’s not like I plan on telling you anything anyways. What would be the point if I know you won’t believe me?”

“I had a feeling that’s how this was going to go,” Moody pointed his wand at (y/n). “Just remember, I gave you an out.”

“No you really didn’t.” (Y/n) thought to herself as Moody cast the first Cruciatous Curse of many.

~~{𝘌𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘖𝘯𝘦}~~

[the-marsh-harrier]

Who was Orion Black? (Pt 9) Orion Black x Female!Reader

A/N: I wanted to explore Sirius’s childhood more in a non-traditional sense and give Orion and Walburga some interesting character development. This takes place after Sirius has broken out of Azkaban. Although this is a reader insert in parts, it is not the main focus and some chapters will have little or no mention of the reader. I have also altered the year Walburga was born to be 1940 instead of 1925 as it states in cannon (this is my fanfic and I’ll do what I want with the characters that are in it). Similarly, remember everyone is entitled to portray fictional characters as they want in their fanfics and if you disagree, please write your own. JKR's bigotry and opinions are not welcome here nor supported.

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 (Part 9)

The Portrait

When Sirius found himself in the study, he couldn’t stop the overwhelming emotions that hit him. He wasn’t ready to feel that. He needed a distraction… and right now, that distraction took the form of that forsaken pointless empty chair portrait. There was something behind that. Even if there wasn’t, Sirius needed to think there was to not have to think about Y/N and how different his life could’ve been if she hadn’t died. Sirius spent hours staring at that portrait of the chair in his father’s office. He’d tried revealing charms, but it didn’t work. Anything he tried to get whatever secret it was holding out into the open, didn’t work. Nothing worked!

So here he was, sat in the same place Orion had spent most of his days – at that piano. His legs bounced with frustration, his forearms rested on the lid of the piano and his lips pursed in thought – Sirius knew there was more to this painting than it appeared. Orion was a clever wizard, any magic he placed on this painting was going to be difficult to break. With all the mysteries in this house, it reminded Sirius of his work as an Auror; tracking down clues, trying to find a lead and maybe… just maybe, managing to crack the case.

Sirius rested his head on of his hands. There had to be a clue somewhere! It took a few seconds, but Sirius’s breath slowly began to cause condensation to form on the ebony exterior of the piano and what he saw in that small cloud startled him. The word ‘keys’ formed inside the condensated patch with a small arrow pointing down as if someone had drawn it with their finger. The message disappeared just as quickly as it appeared, but Sirius was thankful for any information he found. So, he started to study the keys more intently, just where was the clue he was looking for amongst them all.

Sirius was so distracted staring at the keys that he didn’t hear the gentle clinking coming from the shelves behind the real chair in the corner. He was so engrossed with the piano that he didn’t realise until one of the bottles on the shelf flew off and rolled across the floor before gently bumping his foot.

“What the…” Sirius picked up the bottle, studying it closely. It was a dark green bottle with a skull impression on it, presumably it held absinthe at one time but… it was… empty. The closer Sirius looked, he realised that the whole bottle wasn’t green – it was as if the glass had been dyed or dipped to make it look as if the bottle was full. This made even less sense than it being an empty bottle! The shelves had replenishing charms on all of them so this bottle couldn’t be empty… unless it was charmed to never refill but why would it be made to look as if it was full.

Sirius eyes suddenly flitted up to the portrait and to his shock; the bottle he was holding was no longer in the painting. He got up to test if this happened to any other bottles on that shelf but all of them were full and when removed, they stayed in the painting. What was even stranger though was when Sirius tried to pour the contents of one of the full bottles into the empty one, all the liquid simply disappeared. This bottle was charmed to never be filled! Or was it?

Sirius and his empty bottle moved back to the piano. “Okay so the bottle and the keys… I have an empty bottle and a piano full of keys… this is hopeless.” Sirius muttered to himself. “How will this get me anywhere?”

Sirius placed the bottle down on the piano's lid and the moment it connected with the dark polished surface – the whole room turned pitch black. For a while the solitary sound of Sirius breath was all that could be heard but it was soon joined by a slight cracking sound emanating from the piano where the bottle sat. When Sirius leaned closer, he could make out small dull green embers leaking from under the bottle and swirling their way to the top; almost like watching snow fall in reverse. They began to collect near the bottle top, creating a small clump of light which was slowly pushing the cork in the bottle up. When the cork finally broke free with a loud pop, the brightest light he had ever seen burst from the bottle.

When he could finally look back, that was when he noticed the luminescent green music bars that were on the ceiling.

“Merlin’s beard.” Sirius whispered to no one as his eyes trailed down to the portrait. “The keys, you want me to play it, don’t you?”

He had to play the music suspended in the air in front of him. It had been over twenty years since Sirius had played the piano, but it would come back to him, right? After a few rough attempts and some heated words, he managed to play it. A laugh of triumph pushed its way passed Sirius’s lips as he stared at the keys.

“I finally f*cking did it.” Sirius muttered to himself, but his moment of joy was short lived because when he looked back at that painting, it wasn’t there anymore. In fact, what he saw made his heart skip a beat and his gut drop; all he could do was stare in disbelief.

In place of that piece of art, was a mirror – the eery green glow of the room reflected across its surface. As he stood up from the piano, a translucent version of himself stared back; he wasn’t whole but not ghostly either. He looked younger, much younger; he couldn’t have been more than twenty. The reflection began to move on its own, it offered him a lop-sided smile and winked at him. Then a cloud began to form just behind him on the left; swirling and whirling until it imploded on itself and took the form of James Potter at around the same age. It happened again on the right and there was Regulus. Sirius started to hyperventilate by the time a third one appeared and revealed Orion Black. Orion looked older, he was older than the memories that Sirius had seen and older than what he remembered him.

Slowly, Orion extended his hand toward Sirius and it protruded from the mirror, his hand looked like moving water confined into one shape. Sirius stared in horror at this. He hadn’t seen this magic before. Then Sirius heard a voice he thought he’d never hear again in this lifetime.

“Come on, mate! We don’t have all day.” James laughed.

“What is this?” Sirius could barely utter the words.

“Don’t worry, Pads. You’ll be fine. Just take his hand. He has something to show you.” James smiled at Sirius. “Don’t be a mooncalf. Hurry up!” He teased.

“Okay.” Sirius whispered. Before Sirius could even move, he noticed small droplets of water started flying away from him and toward the mirror. When he looked down, his hands where nothing but clear running water streaming toward the mirrors surface. He screamed for Kreacher but before the elf could appear Sirius was propelled forward towards his father’s hand.

***

He felt like he was drowning, he couldn’t breathe, only the sensation of water surrounded him. Sirius forced his eyes open and found himself in dark, murky water – he imagined this is what swimming through the Black Lake must feel like. He caught sight of his hands and realised he was much younger. He brought his hands to his face about all he felt was stubble instead of his trimmed beard, he was the version of himself he had seen earlier!

The need for oxygen soon drew Sirius into the cold reality of his predicament. He started to swim up, but something was stopping him. He felt like there were hands all over him, but he couldn’t see them. He was trying to crawl his way to the surface, but he couldn’t move an inch! That’s when a pair of distinctive hands grasped his ankles, forcing him to look down in alarm. It was Regulus! Regulus was holding his ankles, but he looked so calm… it was like he could breathe under there or maybe he wasn’t breathing at all. The longer Regulus held him; the less Sirius could fight. He was weakening, he was fading… dying.

Regulus began to climb up Sirius’s legs until he was eye level with him. He put his hands either side of Sirius’s face so he could only look at his brother. There was a fierceness, a fire that Sirius had never seen before in Regulus’s eyes and without opening his mouth, Sirius heard Regulus clear as day screaming, “Go! Take him and the locket! Kreacher! Go now! I don’t care, take him back – they’ll kill him if he stays here! Kreacher, you must destroy it. He’s too weak. It’ll have to be you.”

The strength in his brother’s voice was just as foreign as the look in his eyes. Then it wasn’t just Regulus’s hands that Sirius felt, there were more hands clawing at his legs, the weight of it was pulling him down further into the abyss. Regulus’s voice continued to echo spells into Sirius’s mind, all while his mouth not opening once – both brothers fell into darkness.

***

Sirius sat up bolt upright taking the biggest breath he could. He was panting, like he been holding his breath for hours.

Surveying his surroundings, he was in someone’s living room on the sofa. He hadn’t been in this room before; he didn’t recognise it in the slightest, but he recognised some of the artifacts in it. He recognised the children’s toys in the corner, the jumper laid out on the armchair and the small bowl containing a goldfish. Tears sprung into Sirius’s eyes when he saw the photo frame on the small table next to him… it was Lily and James.

“Pads, what are you doing just sitting there? He’s here!” James’s voice called out from the hallway.

Sirius tried to respond but his mouth wouldn’t open either.

“Pads!” James’s voice was more urgent which caused Sirius to rush to the source.

He saw James fully braced staring at the front door and Lily on the stairs. “Go upstairs, get Harry and go!” James’s called out to Lily. “We’ll hold him off for as long as we can.”

Sirius could see Lily nod and run up the stairs leaving him and James on the downstairs landing waiting. “Right, we’re gonna run at him. As hard and fast as you can. With everything you got, Pads! You hear me! Everything! We must do this together! We can’t kill him alone, there’s too many! It must be together! Until the very end.”

“Yes!” Sirius thought but he sounded like he spoke it aloud. “Together, until the very end.”

“Together.” James echoed before the door flew open and a cloaked figure swooped in. The two men ran as fast as they could but neither reached it before a bright green light flew at them. The force sent them falling back into the staircase. Sirius felt his head collide with one of the steps and everything went blank.

***

When Sirius woke up his whole body hurt. It was like he had been hit by a train or dropped from fifty feet in the air. The sensation of something wet under him made him jolt up despite the pain; dread shot through him in he was dragged down into the water again. The wet surface didn’t feel like just water, it was solid, it felt like concrete after it had rained. Looking around, Sirius saw streetlights and a row of all too familiar terrace houses. Grimmauld place.

Number 12 had the door wide open, welcoming anyone into its hold. The orange glow of hall pushing its way out to illuminate the steps making them glisten. Sirius just sat there for a moment, watching the doorway – so lost in thought that he hadn’t heard the gentle rolling of tyres on tarmac behind him until a loud horn sounded behind him.

“Get out of the road, idiot.” A male voice called out for behind him.

“Sorry… Sorry.” Sirius stuttered as he stood up and for the first time so far, his mouth moved when he spoke. He stammered to his feet before making his way onto the pavement.

“F*cking idiot!” The voice called out after him.

Sirius continued to stare up at the doorway. What was behind that opening? What horrible fate was there for him to endure up those stairs? Sirius swallowed thickly before drawing in a deep breath through his nostrils, he shut his eyes for a moment – taking a moment to ready himself until… the distant panicked voice of Walburga emitted from the house.

“What have you gone and done now, you daft b*astard? What do you mean he's not coming back? What inferi? How can you say Regulus isn’t coming back? Stop saying that! Just stop it!” Walburga’s sobs ripped through the doorway drawing Sirius up the stairs… one painful step at a time.

When he entered the house, there wasn’t a soul near the doorway.

“In here, son. I’m here.” Orion’s deep voice carried its way softly through the house and washed Sirius in a sense of comfort after everything he had endured.

Sirius followed the voice into the study. Everything was crisp except the image of a women dressed in purple – presumably Walburga – rushing about the room and looking in different cabinets. She appeared a complete blur of movement, like a kaleidoscope of a woman. She was mummering but Sirius couldn’t make out what she was saying, it was like trying to listen to her with earmuffs on.

“You came.” Orion’s voice croaked out. “I knew you’d come back if I did this. I knew you’d come back to me, son.”

Orion was sprawled out over one of the sofas. One arm tucked into his jacket, a leg on the arm rest, and his other two limbs hanging loosely to his side touching the floor. He was so pale, too white, you would think it possible to see through him, but he had black streaks over his hands and face as if his blood had turned to ink. His suit was soaked through, clinging to his thinning frame – it was like the man was shrinking before your eyes. He moved his hand closest to the floor out to Sirius.

Instinctively, Sirius moved forward to sit on the coffee table in front of the sofa next to his father and reached for his hand. “I’m here. What did you do?”

Orion was coughing a spluttering as he strained to speak. The pain on his face was immeasurable as the scars on his face slowly began to come undone. “We’re going to kill him. We’re going to kill him and end it all. Your brother should be here soon and then we can destroy it.” He moved his hand from his jacket pocket to reveal a locket. “We worked out his secret. We’re going to make him mortal.” Orion coughed up a load of black liquid that trailed down his chin. “I drank the poison so your brother can destroy it. He’ll be here soon. He’ll be here and we can do this together. Together.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sure he’ll be here soon. We can all be together then.” Sirius tried to reassure his father the best he could, but Orion looked like he had aged thirty years in this small time.

“I’m so happy you’re here. I’m going to die but I’m glad you could be here. I’m glad I can die knowing you don’t hate me, Sirius. I love you so much.” Orion’s voice was getting quieter and more horse. “I did it for you. I didn’t want to let you down again – no more hiding from the war, I had to choose a side. I will choose you, Sirius. You and Regulus.” Orion began to choke on the black liquid he had been coughing up moments earlier. The man looked almost triple his age at this point.

Sirius felt his mouth go dry and a lump form in his throat; tears started to sting his eyes. “I’m here. No more talking.” Sirius used his spare hand to stroke his father’s hair. “I’m here. I’m so proud of you.” Sirius didn’t fully know what he was proud of but that’s not what mattered right now. “You can be with Y/N now.”

“It will be good to see her. I miss her so much. I’ll miss you, son. I’ll keep helping, I’ll find a way. I’ll find a-…” Orion looked up at Sirius as fought for his breath. The black substance continued to spit its way out of Orion’s mouth. Soon the liquid was pouring from his nose, ears, and eyes but Orion refused to look away from his son, Sirius would be the last thing he would see. It was truly horrific to see someone dying like this. The splits in his skin that were once scarred were now fully opened gashes to the bone. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, but it felt never-ending to Sirius – what had Orion drank?

Orion was no longer able to breathe as black fluid overwhelmed his system. Every part of him felt like he was on fire or submerged in acid. He let out one finally splutter before his eyes glazed over – that was the last time Sirius would look into his father’s eyes and it broke him. He fell forward onto his knees and let his head fall onto his father’s chest as sobs ripped through him. Sirius found himself screaming through his tears. He could let go of his father; he wouldn’t let go of the python grip he had on his hand.

“No. No, no, no, no…” Sirius sobbed into his father’s chest. Sirius used the hand that had stroked his father’s hair to shake his shoulder. “No. Wake up.” Sirius began to shake Orion more vigorously. “Dad!” but nothing worked. Orion was gone. Sirius continued to cry as the blurred purple woman came over and began to express her own muffled grief. Eventually, Sirius couldn’t open his eyes anymore and the world went dark as night.

***

Sirius was startled awake on the same settee in his father’s study by Kreacher splashing him in the face with glass of ice-cold water. Sirius felt like he was choking.

“Master, are you alright?” Kreacher enquired.

[nidamae-approvedhpfanfics]

PART 2:

Harry Potter and the Order Defying Dark Lords

Harry Potter just wants to fly, throw pottery, and spend time his girlfriend Hermione. That can be difficult when a dark lord is after you. The young Lord Potter has already dealt with one threat and has the nightmares to prove it. Now, on the distant horizon, is a new threat. Rather, an old one. Rated M for a reason.

Harry Potter, M, English, Adventure & Family, chapters: 10, words: 75k+, favs: 245, follows: 336, updated: Aug 17 published: Mar 23, [Harry P., Hermione G.] Sirius B., Alice L.

[ladymisteria]

TITOLO: Magic Test SOMMARIO: E se i personaggi di Harry Potter trovassero un tipico test su una rivista magica e decidessero di provare? Quali sarebbero le loro risposte?

ENGLISH

TITLE: Magic Test SUMMARY: What if Harry Potter's characters found a typical test in a magical magazine and decided to try it? What would their answers be?

EFP FANFICTION:

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN:

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN (ENGLISH):

MY STORIES

[project-v175]

Out on a Limb

Brutal fighting. That's what the wizarding world had succumbed to. Violence. All her life, she had only known the peace of magic. That changed when she became an apprentice at the ministry. She wanted to be an auror. She wanted to restore peace. He who shall not be named had ruined everything for her, and it needed to be set right. Nothing felt normal for her.. not until him.

__

Chapter 12: Take a Seat

Creech crept into Venus's room in the early hours of the morning. The wrinkled elf drug suitcase after suitcase in with him. The scrapping of wood stirred Venus out of her sleep. She gave a groggy groan. Creech began mumbling nonsense to himself, leaving Venus to fend for herself with her things. She sat up in the bed. Her hand ran over her hair, which was messier than it had been when she went to sleep. It was going to take her a while to fix it. Her suitcases were packed to near explosion. How Creech managed was beyond her.

She found only her nicest clothing in one suitcase. The other had all her hygiene in it, plus some. Creech had brought her moisterizung lotions she had never even seen before. Or was this Alastor's idea? As she searched her belongings, she pulled out a black ribbon. Her hair fit nicely atop her head in a familiar bun. The hairstyle would have to do for now. She dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a dark sweatshirt. She looked like a muggle. Perfect. There were too many around to risk being noticed. Her wand fit nicely against her arm. It was just short enough to hide under her sleeve and not hinder her movement.

Alastor's familiar steps approached the door. Just before he knocked, she greeted him at the door with a smile. "Morning, Alastor. Sleep well?"

"As well as anyone can on these old beds. Come on, Creech should have breakfast ready soon. Then I'm taking ya outside." Alastor turned to the side. His staff waved Venus out, with the only way for her to go being down the steps.

"Outside? For what?" Venus stepped out of the room and down the steps.

Alastor stayed close behind her. "The rest of your training."

"Huh? You - Is this about that sixth sense thing?" Venus turned to face him at the end of the steps.

"Yes. It's not nearly as strong as it should me. Constant. Vigilance. You need to have constant vigilance everywhere. Even at home." Alastor pushed past Venus and into the kitchen.

The scent of porridge filled the room. There was a platter of fresh fruits laid out in the center of the table cloth. It seemed relatively new or unused, at least. Clean. It was clean. Not like the rest of the dusty, mold filled house. The two sat down, and Creech scooted bowls in front of them. The spoons were already inside.

"Alastor.. what exactly.. is this place?" Venus took a handful of bananas and blueberries for her porridge. She sprinkled on some cinnamon for a bit more taste as well.

Alastor hesitated, telling her the truth. Perhaps she couldn't detect a good lie, but that still didn't make it right. She would find out eventually,"The headquarters of the Order of the Pheonix. 12 Grimmauld Place. House of Sirius Black. An old friend."

Her blood ran cold. It was if her heart had stopped working. Venus swallowed the lump in her throat and gripped her spoon. "Sirius.. Black? You brought me.. to a death eaters home?" Venus stood from her seat, knocking it over from the force. "Are you insane? What is wrong with you?! You really are mad!"

"Sit back down. He isn't actually a death eater. It's a cover for the order." Alastor placed both his hands on the table in fists. He looked up at Venus, deadpanned.

"The hell are you - the order? Order of what?" Venus began pacing. Her hands flew from her temples to the air in crazed motions. A slew of ramblings and accusations followed suit.

"The Order of the Pheonix. We fought the death eaters off. Now, would you please. Sit. Down. Im tired of your fussing." Venus stood in shock at Alastor's sudden change in tone. She took her seat quietly. The two began to eat in silence. Awkward silence.

Alastor finished off his porridge first. He waited patiently for Venus to finish. She took her time. Almost testing Alastors patience. He kept his gaze soft, even as his anger began to grow. When she finished, her fingers grazed the edge and practically shoved the bowl forward. A reluctant glare peirced through Alastor.

"You better explain, Alastor. Or im leaving."

Alastor laughed at Venus's threat. Even Creech would know how empty it is. How impossible. Venus couldn't leave if she wanted to. She had no idea where to go. How to go. "Fine. Fine. I'll start with the beginning of the war. When i was an apprentice. Much like you."

The house of Sirius Black was once a full home. Not empty. Bustling with people. The Order of the Pheonix. Those who wished to stop Voldemort joined together where Venus and Alastor sat for breakfast. They would dine together. Celebrate together. Even cry together. Alastor became part of it when the war began as an apprentice. His mentor died at the beginning, much like Venus's had. It was a group effort. A team. A family. There is nothing like the death eaters. Both sides fought for a cause, but only one was stronger. After Voldemort was believed to be gone, the order fell apart. Grimmauld Place became barren with Sirius Black imprisoned. Only now, months later, did life stir inside it.

Venus stared at Alastor. Pangs of guilt twisted at her insides. She avoided Alastor's amused gaze to no avail. Her eyes met him, and she muttered, "Sorry.. for freaking out.. and all that.."

"No matter." Alastor stood from his chair and began towards the door. "Let's train that sixth sense, shall we?"

__

Author Note

So, it's a bit of a shorter episode. My mom has covid right now. With holidays coming up and her being ill, i have to take care of nearly EVERYTHING. Im so sorry, yall- but thank goodness i have two weeks off for Yule. So I'll be writing a bit more after our initial celebration this year.

[serenanight87]

And my ships never shared a scene just dreamed about it. Hell some of mine are their own created species within the world rules. So there.

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius x fem!reader

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT (see full series list here)

1995

The house is all commotion the next day. Most of the kids wake up late and this sends Mrs Weasley into a tizzy as she hurries from place to place gathering trunks and belongings and throwing them downstairs in front of the door. You place your own trunk in front of the door, scratching Dubh’s ears as she leaps into your arms and digs her claws into your jumper to hold herself against your chest.

Moody stands at the doorway, both hands on his staff as his magical eye swivels from room to room upstairs. He glances at his watch. “Where is Podmore? We can't leave without him, we’ll be one short.” He taps his foot impatiently.

Mrs Weasley looks up the stairway and clears her throat before bellowing, “WILL YOU LOT GET DOWN HERE NOW, PLEASE!”

At once, Walburga Black’s portrait starts screaming and shouting, but no one bothers to close the curtains on her. The noise in the hall will only continue to wake her.

Sirius appears beside you and slips his hand into the back pocket of your jeans, kissing your cheek. “All set?”

You hum, turning to face him. “Hope so. I’m going to miss you so much, you know that?”

He smiles lovingly at you. “I’ll miss you too — I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

You hum thoughtfully. “Talk to Kreacher a lot more, I guess?” You smile cheekily at him.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Don’t even joke about that, it would be hell.”

Ron, Harry, and Hermione come hurrying down the stairs, their footsteps drowned out by Walburga Black’s screeches.

“Harry, you're to come with me and Molly,” you yell at Harry over your mother-in-law's portrait.

“Leave your trunk and your owl, Alastor’s going to deal with the luggage,” Mrs Weasley explains. “...Oh, for heaven's sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!”

Sirius’ hand leaves your pocket and he turns into his dog form, following you as you clamber over the trunks.

“Oh, honestly…” Mrs Weasley says despairingly, “well, on your own head be it!”

She wrenches open the front door and you step out into the morning sunlight, followed by Harry and Sirius. You descend the front steps of number 12 and they vanish the moment you reach the pavement.

You glance at your watch. “We’d better hurry up, Molly.”

“I know, I know,” she groans, lengthening her stride, “but Mad-Eye wanted us to wait for Sturgis…if only Arthur could have got us cars from the Ministry again…but Fudge wouldn’t let him borrow so much as an empty ink bottle these days…How Muggles can stand travelling without magic…”

Sirius, on the other hand, seems delighted. He gives a joyful bark and runs around you, snapping at pigeons and chasing his own tail. Harry laughs and you can’t help but smile. He’s been trapped inside for far too long.

Mrs Weasley purses her lips disapprovingly.

Dubh keeps her gaze laser-focused on the dog, watching him closely and swishing her tail agitatedly when he comes too close, digging her claws tighter into the fabric of your jumper.

On platform nine and three quarters, students and families bustle from place to place carrying their heavy trunks, owls hooting from their cages.

“I hope the others make it in time,” Mrs Weasley says anxiously, staring behind her at the arch through which new arrivals come.

“Nice dog, Harry!” calls Lee Jordan, waving at Harry.

“Thanks, Lee,” says Harry, grinning, as Sirius wags his tail frantically.

“Oh, good,” Mrs Weasley says with a sigh of relief, “here’s Alastor with the luggage, look…”

With a cap pulled low over his eyes, Moody limps through the archway pushing a cart full of trunks.

“All okay,” he mutters to you. “Don’t think we were followed…”

Seconds later, Mr Weasley emerges onto the platform with Ron and Hermione. You start to help unloading the trunks from the cart and nearly have them all off when Remus turns up with Ginny and the twins.

“No trouble?” growls Moody.

“Nothing,” Remus replies, dusting off the front of his jacket.

“I’ll still be reporting Sturgis to Dumbledore,” Moody says lowly. “That’s the second time he’s not turned up in a week. Getting as unreliable as Mundungus.”

“Well, look after yourselves,” Remus says, shaking hands all round.

You beam at him when he reaches you and pull him in for a tight hug, laughing. “See ya, Moony.”

“Keep your head down and your eyes peeled,” Moody says to Harry, shaking Harry’s hand too. “And don’t forget, all of you — careful what you put in writing. If in doubt, don’t put it in a letter at all.”

“If you need to pass anything on, tell me,” you say as the warning whistle for the train sounds and the students still on the platform start to hurry onto the train. Sirius nudges your hand with his head and you gently scratch the top of his head, smiling. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Quick, quick,” says Mrs Weasley distractedly, hugging everyone at random. “Write…be good…if you’ve forgotten anything we’ll send it on…onto the train now, hurry…”

Bewitching your trunk to fly in the air behind you, you hurry onto the train and make your way past the throes of students greeting you in the corridor, down to your usual compartment in the prefects’ carriage. You set Dubh down on the seat beside you and as you sit down, you feel something in your back pocket and curious, you pull out a slip of parchment and unfold it.

I love you

Tell Snape he looks like a gargoyle

You chuckle appreciatively, putting the paper back in your pocket and feeling your heart warm.

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

February, 1977

“Transfiguring something of a larger stature, however, can prove to be more difficult,” Professor McGonagall says, the chalk in her fingers scratching against the blackboard as she writes instructions. “It takes a lot more concentration and practice, so I suggest you use your free time wisely and —”

Sirius sighs in boredom, eyes skimming around the room until he finds the person he's looking for. Across the room, sitting as far away from James as possible, is Lily, and right beside her, you.

You lean over to whisper something to Lily, who chuckles, and Sirius finds himself following your every movement, tracing the line of your jaw with his eyes, the curve of your neck, the way you're swinging your legs under the chair absent-mindedly…

“And then, you put the charm on the ties and I'll keep look-out — hey!”

James slaps Sirius across the back of his head angrily.

“Ow! What was that for?!”

“You're not even listening!”

Sirius snaps out of his daze and looks back at his best friend’s angry face, scrunched up beneath his circular glasses.

“Sorry, Prongs, what were you saying?”

James scoffs, folding his arms dramatically. “You were staring at her again, weren't you?” He makes a noise with his mouth like the cracking of a whip, rolling his eyes. “Pathetic.”

“In my defense, she is very pretty — “

“I don't want to hear it!” James snaps. “Y’know, I liked you better before you got a girlfriend. You were more fun.”

“Oh, shut up, James — you're just jealous ‘cause Lily would rather go out with a toad than with you — “

“That's not true — !”

Someone clears their throat loudly and the boys look up to find McGonagall glaring at them from behind her spectacles, clearly unimpressed.

“Yes, Potter, Black — we’ll all just wait for you to finish your very important conversation and then I can get back to teaching.”

Quiet sniggers ripple through the room. Lily rolls her eyes as her best friend giggles.

“Sirius was distracting me, miss —”

“James won't stop talking —”

“Enough.” Professor McGonagall pinches the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “Pay attention or it's detention for the both of you.”

“Yes, miss.”

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

“Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices,” says Dumbledore after he gets to feet for his start-of-year speech. “First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students — and a few of our older students ought to know by now too.”

You glance down the Great Hall, skimming your eyes around at all your students.

“Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch’s office door. We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

There is a round of polite applause. You crane your neck to look at the new hire of Professor Umbridge: a small woman wearing a fluffy pink cardigan with mousy brown hair and a pair of small, beady eyes. She has her lips pursed and her hands folded in on the table as she looks out at the student body.

“Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the —”

“Ahem.”

Dumbledore breaks off and looks surprisingly at Professor Umbridge, who has gotten to her feet (though it is hard to tell the difference between her height while standing and while sitting), and clearly wants to make a speech.

Minerva glances at you for half a second, her mouth a thin, disapproving line as she turns back to focus her attention on Umbridge.

Her interruption irks you — no one has ever interrupted Dumbledore in the middle of his speech before. It feels quite disrespectful, though Dumbledore doesn't seem to mind as he sits down and gives Umbridge his utmost attention.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” she starts, her voice sickeningly squeaky, “for those kind words of welcome.”

She clears her throat again, that same little ‘ahem’. “Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces smiling back at me!”

You raise your eyebrows, noticing how the faces looking back at Umbridge seem quite far from happy — they actually look highly affronted at the childish tone that she has taken on.

“I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we’ll be very good friends!”

Nobody seems too keen on that idea.

She clears her throat again, but this time her tone becomes more business-like and official. “The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching.”

She clears her throat again and Minerva’s face tightens as she exchanges a glance with you, her distaste clear on her face.

“Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. Then again, progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation…because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.”

Finally, she sits down, looking expectantly at her audience. Dumbledore claps. You and the rest of the staff start to join in, though you bring your hands together once, maybe twice, before stopping completely.

“Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating,” Dumbledore says as he stands, bowing to her. “Now, as I was saying — Quidditch tryouts will be held…”

“I suspect we’ll be having an interesting year with her here,” you say to Minerva in a low voice, moving your lips as subtly as possible while keeping your eyes on Dumbledore.

A breath of air whistles out of her nose. “Interesting indeed. The Ministry loves to poke their nose into things.”

You hum in agreement. “You can say that again.”

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

“Now as you all know, next June you will be sitting your O.W.L. examinations,” you say, leaning against your desk and flicking your gaze from student to student in your classroom. “They are, of course, important — failing certain classes may mean you are unable to continue those classes at N.E.W.T. level next year — but they are nothing to get stressed about. Study well and do your best and you will be absolutely fine, there is no need to panic. Exams are not the be-all and end-all.”

Hermione’s brow furrows as though this notion is completely inconceivable to her. You notice the way she has her parchment neatly laid out on her desk at the ready, her book perched at the top, and her quills perfectly aligned with each other beside it.

Beside her, however, Ron and Harry have absolutely nothing on their desks.

“Those who are interested in taking N.E.W.T. level Astronomy in sixth year, I accept anyone with at least a passing grade in my class. I must warn you, though, that the work and curriculum is increasingly hard and quite a jump from O.W.L. level.”

The students look quite bored.

“I'm guessing you've heard all that before?”

There is scattered murmurs of agreements and nodding.

You sigh. “I’ll be honest with you all — you will be sick and tired of hearing about those exams in no time. Have your classes been hard so far?”

They glance at each other, and you hear Dean Thomas snort and mutter to Seamus Finnegan, “Not Defense Against the Dark Arts, anyway.”

Your ears prick up at this and you raise your eyebrows. “Not in Defense Against the Dark Arts?”

“Professor Umbridge refuses to let us use defensive spells in class,” Hermione says, frowning.

“What?”

“She's only teaching us theory,” Harry confirms, scowling. “We don't even get to practice the ones we need for the exam.”

“And she called Professor Lupin an ‘extremely dangerous half-breed!” Dean pops up angrily.

This seems to set off the rest of the class, and all at once they start voicing their complaints with vigour.

“What's the point of having a Defense Against the Dark Arts class if we’re not even learning how to defend ourselves in it?”

“You can't learn spells just by reading about them!”

“She's not even a real teacher —”

You wait patiently until everyone has let out their anger before you take a deep breath.

“That’s…ridiculous.”

You pick up your textbook, thumbing through it absent-mindedly as you think of what to say next. “But…if this is what your teacher wants you to do, I should tell you to listen to her.”

Uproar, again — and you hold up an authoritative hand to quiet your agitated students.

“I will tell you to listen to her, but that's not to say you're definitely going to listen to me,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “You should listen to me, but not everyone likes to follow the rules…I will tell you not to practice these defensive spells in the privacy of your own dorms because Professor Umbridge does not want you to be performing these spells at all. I will also tell you not to be so open in complaining of your new teacher — you will get into trouble.”

You sigh dramatically, flipping the pages of your book to the first chapter as the students pass mischievous glanced around at each other. “Now, let's get started, shall we?”

⁠After a long day of classes, back-to-school paperwork, and meetings, you relax into your comfy armchair in your office, listening as Minerva talks about how her week went. Your mug of hot tea warms your hands as the typical Scottish rain patters against the castle windows, and Dubh sleeps contentedly on a stack of papers lying haphazardly on your desk.

“I don’t trust that Dolores Umbridge,” Minerva says with a tight-lipped frown. “She sent Potter to my office on Tuesday, for running his mouth.”

You hum. “About her theory-only classes? Yes, I heard several complaints already.”

“Not just about that,” she says. “He told her He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back, which did not go down well, of course.”

“Like talking to a brick wall, I’d say.”

She clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “He’d do well to keep his head down and out of sight after her speech at the start-of-term feast…” She casts a glance at you from behind her spectacles. “As would you.”

You laugh humourlessly. “Believe me, I am. I’ve been avoiding that woman like the plague — thankfully she’s easy to spot from a mile away with those horrible cardigans.”

As though she doesn’t mean to, Minerva lets out a cat-like giggle, before clearing her throat and regaining her composure.

You smile knowingly at her over the rim of your cup, resisting the urge to laugh.

She yawns, adjusting herself in her seat. “I suppose I best be off, I have a few essays to grade for tomorrow…”

She sets her cup down on the table, standing up. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” you answer honestly, smiling at her. “Night, Minnie.”

She opens the door to leave. “Goodnight.”

You've never liked that Dolores Umbridge, not since she drafted some anti-werewolf legislation a few years ago that made it impossible for Remus to find a job. You remember the stress it gave Remus, he had very little money and was reluctant to accept any help from you — despite the large sum of gold sitting in your bank, practically untouched.

When you settle down to sleep that night, your mind turns to Sirius: alone in Grimmauld Place, listening to the screams and screeches of his mother’s portrait. The moment you got on the Hogwarts Express you regretted letting him persuade you to come back to school and leaving him, right after you had just found him.

As if she senses your worry, Dubh pads along your covers before settling into the bed beside your chest, purring contentedly and bringing you significant comfort just by being there.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

The next morning you wake for breakfast, sitting as far away from Dolores Umbridge as possible, making absolutely sure to avoid all eye contact with the woman. The last thing you need is a Ministry mole rooting around your business when you are technically harbouring a fugitive in your house.

While you poke and prod at your breakfast, thinking about nothing in particular, owls begin to filter in through the windows bearing the morning’s post. A barn owl makes it way over to you and drops off your usual delivery of the Daily Prophet.

“You’re still reading that?” Minerva asks in surprise as you tuck a few coins into the small sack tied to the owl’s leg as payment.

You hum, undoing the twine wrapped around the paper. “Good to know what the enemy is putting out there, right?” As you unfold the newspaper, your heart drops and you let out a small gasp.

“What is it?” Minerva asks, and you wordlessly hold the paper between you so you can both read the headline article.

BLACK SPOTTED IN LONDON

The Ministry of Magic has received a tip-off from a reliable source that Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer who killed thirteen people, is currently hiding in London. The Ministry warns the wizarding community that Black is very dangerous and to be vigilant. Anyone with information of his whereabouts must come forward and alert the Ministry immediately.

You look up at Minerva, feeling dread sink down through your body.

“I knew he shouldn’t have came with us,” you whisper, swallowing thickly.

Minerva looks at the article again, her mouth thin. “He will just have to stay in the house from now on.”

You frown. “It’ll kill him.” You glance down the table at Dumbledore, currently talking to Professor Flitwick animatedly. “Maybe I can ask Dumbledore if I can go home, just for the weekend — I can’t bear the thought of him alone —”

Minerva looks at you sharply, her expression serious.

“And how do you think that will look to Umbridge? Sirius Black’s wife leaving without any explanation the weekend after he is spotted in London?”

“I’ll just say I’m going to my parents’ or something, I don’t know —”

“They will not believe you,” she hisses. “They have never believed you before, they will not believe you now. Do you wish to end up in Azkaban?”

You look back at her, biting your lip before breathing a long, defeated sigh. 

Minerva gently pulls the newspaper from your grip, flicking through the pages with mild interest. You push your plate away from you, feeling nauseous and without any appetite. Why didn’t you push more for him to stay at the house that day? You were selfish, letting him come with you because you wanted to drag out your time with him as much as possible and putting him in danger. Where is Kingsley, he’s supposed to be staying on top of this, feeding the Ministry fake information and keeping Sirius out of the headlines. 

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter twenty-nine here!

-> all kinds of interaction appreciated ♡

hi everyone, im really sorry for the huge wait!! I know how annoying it can be sometimes to have to wait long periods of time for a writer to post the next chapter, so I really am sorry for that :( I honestly don't really have an excuse, other than writer's block and a busy schedule. You all are the absolute best for your constant patience and support, i love everyone sm <3 Kisses!

a really huge thank you to my taglist loves ♡ :

@mothraantics @wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @devoid-swanky @carpe000diem @mooonyxoxo @hyperspeedo @idkman5335 @elanna-elrondiel @murielisacertifieddilf @penelopied @imgondeletedis @wooyoungsrightsock @jennifer0305 @wolfdragon0424 @lovemesomevesey

[del-stars]

sirius x moody lives in my mind rent free

this is kind of wild but i live… sirius bby needs an older man & alastor would lowk thrive w a younger twinkish guy. sirius black w his daddy issues to the mooooon craving the comfort and security of an older guy v alastor searching for someone to care for/protect. also sirius has weird relationships w authority so u can’t tell me he wouldn’t want to fuck his superior immediately after joining the order. i think it would start as very much alastor having faith in sirius/wanting him to be protected in the order/showing vague affection as he does to all the younger ones in the order and sirius who has never received untethered affection from an older man before would just warp that so bad until he’s dying to fuck that guy. and nobody is immune to sirius’ charms. they would def try to keep it a secret which of course only makes it hotter. honestly idk that much abt alastor’s character but knowing sirius it would just be an insane relationship. they’re getting the fuck nasty stamp of approval from me considering sirius daddy kink black. i can’t theorise on them much but honestly you’ve opened my eyes and i need to see more content about them right now please

[unconventional-lawnchair]

We'll heal together: Chapter Two

I'll Look After You The Fray

Harry Potter x Reader (Platonic) / Alastor Moody x Reader (Platonic) / Peter Pettigrew x Reader (Platonic) / Sirius Black x Reader (Ambiguous-Past)

Masterlist

Summary: {Y/N} {L/N} makes her first appearance, as dreams haunt her day-to-day life. Harry finds out more about her, after a run in with Draco.

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, grief, sad Harry times, wizard slurs, discussion of death and betrayal, reader in pain, mild descriptions of panic, friendship with peter (I am so sorry) (please reach out if I missed something}

Wc- 4349

“Get up! To your feet!” Alastor Moody’s voice boomed through the empty clearing behind the Potter’s manor. It was cold, the sun had yet to rise and the bellowing voice could be heard echoing off the trees that encased them.

 “Get up, a death eater won't let you take your beauty rest!” Moody barked and sent another spell beside your feet to make you flinch.

You were shaky, weary to gather yourself off the slightly moist morning grass. You were lucky he had allowed you to change into proper dueling gear, Mad-Eye had woken you up mere moments ago and dragged you down the stairs for a surprise training session. You were upset, at first, of course you were, who in their right mind wakes up at 3am to drag their apprentice down the steps to TRAIN? You knew he had been at work for the ministry for the last week, your training with him becoming scarce, as he picked up on a lead of one of the Death Eater's new targets. You wanted to be mad, the first time you saw him in days and he was forcing you awake and into the bathroom to get ready for a rather brutal duel. You really wanted to be mad.

That was, until you heard what Mad-eye had gone through. He was a tough nut to crack, and when he loved, he loved hard. So when Albus mentioned in passing about the scene he walked in on, the very family he was sent to protect. Parents, both muggleborns who were outspoken about Voldemort and the death eaters, having been found in their bed without ever reaching their wands, you understood what this was about.

You could play along with this for now, knowing the comfort it would bring him far outweighed your cranky demeanor. He never said it, but you knew how terribly each failed job affected him. He was Alastor Moody for Merlin’s sake! He was known for his skill, his witt, his power. A fiercely loyal Hufflepuff, with the attitude to match it. His reputation was his downfall, however. Such high expectations to meet, and when he failed on something as simple as just missing an attack by mere hours, there was nothing he could do. Nothing outside of making sure his successor KNEW better, could DO better and would BE better. This was war, and with a mentor who is more than anything you could ever wish for, you were grateful. Even more so that he cared enough to do this. 

You drew your wand, hands tightening around the base as you raised yourself to your feet, thumb rubbing the blood from your cut lip before sending a few sharp spells his way, each he deflected. 

“Sloppy! Run it again!” He demanded as you began to breathe heavier. You rolled your shoulders and snapped your wrist to send a few more spells his way. Tightening his lips into a firm frown he sent them back ten fold. You were just barely able to pull up your shield. Your limbs were aching, your throat was dry, you were sweating and the feeling of the burning sun rising meant you had been at this for hours now. “Moody, I’m exhausted.” You tried to placate him.

“Quicker! Your movement is off. You'll get your whole group killed!” He spat and sent a few more spells towards you that you more easily flicked away. Seems he wouldn't be listening to reason. “Lock your wrist! Loosen your hand!”

“That doesn't even make sense! Do you want me to drop my wand?” You teased lightheartedly, smirking as he leaned forward on the base of the tree behind him. You quickly shot a spell to his feet. “Scourgify!”

Before he could even scold you for your aim he was startled by the spell. Looking down as bubbles and suds slowly gathered and grew at his ankles. “What's this? Going to defeat your enemy with some bubbles? Come off it!” He tutted before his frown grew deeper. “This isn't a joke, Vixen!” He bellowed, not noticing the gleam in your eyes.

You smirked before you sent a sharp and quick, “Depulso!” To send him slipping back and landing on his bum. Much like a muggle cartoon character. Quickly accio’ing his wand and holding it up in victory. 

Distant cheers sent a shiver down your spine, eyes shooting over to the hill. There they were, Peter and Lily, gathered at the top, coming down with what seemed to be a thermal cup and some wrapped up pastries. You hadn't even noticed your stomach aching.

You looked at Mad-Eye with a hopeful smile, he gave you a firm studying look before he huffed and waved his hand to dismiss you, still gathering himself. You lit up and tossed him his wand before meeting your two friends half way. 

“Here, some tea.” Lily mused and handed you the cup. You opened it and took a few quick sips, made just how you like it. Lily knew you better than anyone. “Lily, my love, the light of my life, tell me again why you are with Potter of all the people in the world?” 

Lily gave a faux sigh of disappointment, “Well, my dear friend, it seems that I have a type I like to keep around.” She tutted and you tilted your head much like a crup. “Absolute lunatics. Where were you off to so early in the morning? Was it just to train?” She tried to reprimand you and you put your hands up in defense.

“I am a victim here! Do not scold me!” You chirped and Lily threw her head back in a laugh as Alastor walked passed you three and muttered praise you were just unable to understand. 

“Was it fruitful at least?” Peter spoke up, you looked up to him and nodded with a brighter smile. “Now, I know why I am up, and I know that Lily likely was up before me-”

“Untrue!” She chimed in, making you giggle.

“But why are you up, Peter? You need your rest, you have a mission today.” You scolded and Peter gave a small smile and shrugged. “You were up.” He muttered as if that was the only reason he would ever need to do something. Peter had always been like this, just to appease people. But since school, you and him have been rather close. You two had shared plenty of solo missions and adventures, he always had your back and you his. Moody didn't particularly like him, thought he was a coward, so when you two were chosen as partners, he nearly blew his top off. You didn't feel the need to explain yourself, Peter would always have your trust. Something your childhood best friend, James Potter, constantly complained about, how you always took his side between the two. To be fair, Peter may have stolen your trust, but Potter did plan to marry your best friend. So you two could call it even.

You closed your eyes softly and enjoyed the warmth that filled you with their voices. The idle chatter slowly faded out, leaving just a small bit of ringing to your ears.

The ringing grew louder and louder, before it was overwhelming.

Suddenly, your eyes snapped open as the alarm clock on your bedside table went off. You groan out loud, covering your face with both hands before you slam down on the mute button. “Bloody hell! I was so close to figuring out what that damn dream is about!” You laid in the bed for a moment before flailing your arms about in pure frustration. “Ugh!!”

Jumping out of bed and meandering over to look at the full length mirror, gazing at yourself before sighing. Those dreams.. they were becoming too vivid. You swore you could feel the cut on your lip and the pain of your battered limps. You needed to know what sparked this creative spunk in your mind. Creating a loose narrative with so much intensity and detail. A wizarding world? Spells and charms? Even full fledged characters? You had never been an overly obsessive person, but those dreams, they felt warm. They felt safe in a way you had never felt before. They felt like a piece of you, almost like home, and even if your current friends said it was likely nothing, you still felt so much longing for the faces you saw when you closed your eyes. Maybe that's why you couldn't ignore it.

You shook the thoughts away and hummed, grabbing yourself a change of clothes and hurrying off to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

~~

Once you had finished getting ready, you put on a simple outfit, just a tank top and some jeans. Walking down the stairs from your suite above the shop, you slipped on a deep rich brown apron, tying it around your hips before glancing at a dark window and gathering your hair up into a newsboy cap. It was the easiest way to keep the cleaners and special concoctions made to keep each flower bundle alive and well, out of your hair, and in turn your pillows. Sending your reflection a wink and a pair of finger guns you wolf whistled as if you were checking yourself out.

You wandered behind the register and began to set up for the day. Your ears began to burn at the sound of scratching at the back door. You lit up, turning sharply on your heels and walking over. You opened it and a silver tabby dashed inside. You cooed and gushed at her, closing the door behind you as you followed the feline. 

She jumped onto the cash register and then to the counter before looking back at you.

“Awe, Glasses! I missed you, where have you been?” You continue to coo, as you go back to work. Glasses had made it clear early on she did not want to be pet, and she seemed well groomed and maintained, so you assumed she belonged to one of the neighbors. She was an absolute darling. She had these strange square-like markings around her eyes that made them look like she was wearing spectacles, and thus, with no other leads to go on, her name was Glasses.

“You know, I’ve had more dreams,” You spoke up to the cat, waving your hand in a dismissive way, despite how they were eating you alive from the inside out. “About this fantastical world, and people I don't even know. I mean, truly, who named their child Moody? Alastor Moody?” 

You continued your rant about the dreams you had. You loved your friends, the ones you met after moving to this small town, but it seemed the stories you told them began to go on deaf ears. You couldn't exactly blame them, who wanted to listen to such a random bunch of tales? The same ones you told them about a million times before? So having Glasses, who only seemed to sit around and enjoy the fauna, unable to stop your rambles, was therapeutic to rant to. “And, in my dream, I saw the boy again. Peter? Long blonde hair and chubby cheeks, when he walked down the hill I swear I could feel his hugs. You know that kind of person? Just an absolute power house of comfort.” You clicked your tongue before you lit up. Speaking of comfort. “Oh! Oh! And Lily, such pretty eyes, she made me tea. I could practically taste it! I feel like I’m going mad, Glasses! I care so much for them, these imaginary figures.”

Glasses laid across the counter in a relaxed way, eyes trained on you as you spoke. Like a little person.

“And I feel so empty when I wake up. Like something that once filled my chest is torn from me. I learned so much of that world, sometimes I want to stay asleep for days just to see them. To talk to them. As if I know them deep down.” You sighed and shook your head. “I truly am going mad. They feel like family. At least, that's what I think it would feel like.”

A loud meow sounded out in the room as the bell above the shop door chimed, you snapped your head up from where you were pruning a few flowers, smiling sweetly at one of the many regulars. 

So the work day begins.

~~ Harry’s POV ~~

Harry had been on edge for days now. Since the fat lady was attacked, the conversation between Dumbledore and Snape, and then the Quidditch game, he was tired of waiting around like a sitting duck. 

He didn’t want to feel so reliant on anyone, even the Headmaster, waiting around for the next bit of news he would give him so graciously. So, after a failed escape attempt and being nabbed by the twins, he found himself in Hogsmeade under the protection of his invisibility cloak, with the Marauders map tucked under his arm.

“A bit grand for you, don't you think, Weasel-Bee?” Draco’s voice filled the clearing just a few meters away from the Shrieking Shack. Harry gave a low groan at the sound, turning down a small path he was lingering by, around the exit of Hogsmeade.

“Oh, not very friendly I see.” His voice continued and Harry swore his eyes had never rolled harder in his head. Even his voice brought hives up his neck, he wondered when Malfoy would be hitting puberty, considering his voice still resembled that of a shrill child.

“I think it's time we teach them to respect their superiors!” Malfoy sneered, a smirk taking his lips before Hermione scoffed.

As he got closer, he could make out the figures standing by the fence. As he suspected, Malfoy, his goons, Ron and Hermione. 

“I truly hope you don't mean yourself!” She clapped back, stepping in front of Ron as Malfoy ground his teeth and leaned forward. “How DARE you speak to me? You filthy little Mudblood-”

Harry had long since heard enough, gathering some snow in his hands before he chucked it at the spoiled boy, knocking him right on his head. Huh.. maybe he should have been a chaser, he thought cheekily. Much more luck with his muggle given gift of ‘mess around and find out.’

Then absolute panic ensued. Harry made a point to make an absolute fool of the boys, before they were sent running with the sound of Hermione’s laughter and Ron’s confused sounds and squeaks following behind them.

Ron’s face twisted to pure panic as one of his hat’s tassels were toyed with, making Hermione laugh harder. Her lips curled downwards as she attempted to hide her smile as her hair was lifted up above her head. “Harry!” She whined in delight and Harry laughed. Absolutely thrilled he managed to make her smile after such a horrible insult.

He threw the cloak off and Ron groaned. “Bloody hell Harry! That was not funny!” He tried to scold but it came out as more of a whine. He pouted as the other two continued to giggle and shake their heads. There was so much aching joy in his chest he couldn't help it. This is what this year should have been about.

~~~

As they walked through the alleys of Hogsmeade, Harry found himself zoning out. Not that he didn't enjoy his friends' presence, far from it actually, it brought him enough peace and calm to be able to fully remove himself into his thoughts. He knew they would still be there when he came back to. He felt safety with the two, safety he had not felt since the night he heard Sirius Black made it into Hogwarts. He was knocked out of his thoughts as he heard that name but aloud, Sirius Black. His head snapped over to look at the Hogshead’s door, seeing two people he did not recognize mention the escaped convict. “Why would Sirius Black be here?” He heard the owner nagging, before the Minister leaned into her ear, and not at all softly spoke his name to her. “Harry Potter.”

“Harry potter?” She gasped and the minister shushed her.

This was his chance! His chance to finally be ahead of it all, to know even a small bit of what Dumbledore knew, what everyone but him seemed to know.

Hermione frowned as she watched the interaction. Seeing the lady lead Hagrid, McGonagall, and the minister into the pub. “Harry don't you dare-”

“A bit late, aren't ya?” Ron spoke up and Hermione looked between them to see Harry had already disappeared, met with Ron’s smirking face instead. She gave Ron a frown and he shrugged. 

“And WHY didn't you stop him?” Hermione scoffed and Ron simply looked over and watched his footprints lead into the Hogshead. “Was I meant to?”

Hermione groaned. “Harry!”

But her words fell on deaf ears.

Harry shoved himself into the pub and up after the four who made it upstairs. Sneaking into the room right behind Madam Rosmerta, finding himself a corner to lurk in as they spoke to one another. His breathing was heavy but concealed by the space he made between himself and them assisted by the cloth blocking his lips. 

“Now!” Rosmerta groaned and turned to the other three in the room. “Tell me what this is all about.” She huffed and walked to the center, looking down at McGonagall as she sat and fixed her robes.

“Well,” The professor spoke up and Harry almost held his breath as if he could hear her better. “You remember, years ago, when Harry Potter’s parents realized they were marked for death and they went into hiding?” She declared and crossed her legs, gesturing for Rosmerta to sit with her, the girl shook her head, too wound up. The professor nodded and continued. “The only two who knew about their whereabouts, {Y/N} {L/N} and Sirius Black acting as their secret keepers.”

Rosmerta nodded and narrowed her eyes slightly at her when she continued. “After {Y/N} {L/N}’s death, when You-Know-Who found them, we could only assume one person had done it. Sirius Black had sold out Lily and James.” She declared this new revelation.

Harry’s eyes widened and his breath hitched in his throat. What? His parents trusted him? Sirius Black? And there was that named again, {Y/N} {L/N}. Those two names, his parents trusted them, deeply, and Lupin spoke so highly of her. What had happened? He narrowed his eyes as if seeing them better would allow him to understand what they were saying.

Rosmerta tutted, rolling her tongue in disgust. “Weren’t Sirius and that girl engaged? If he was the rat that had been betraying them, how would {L/N} have not known?”

“It was mere days after! All three of their deaths,” The professor announced. “Not even a week after they both became their secret keepers, {Y/N} was found dead by Dumbledore, Sirius almost lost it. Her and Mary's hideout had also been completely ransacked, that's where they found Mary MacDonald, you know.” She wagged her finger. “Unfortunately, {Y/N} never shared who her secret keeper was, and they never revealed themselves, so we could only assume-”

“Sirius Black sold out his Fiance!?” Rosmerta declared in a horrified gasp. 

“Ex-Fiance, but yes, that is the running theory.” McGonagall spoke in a low and patient tone. Almost as if she didn't quite believe herself. “They broke the engagement off a year before everything happened, just a few months after Harry was born.”

“So, a scorned lover?” Rosmerta tried to pry and the professor held her hand up and shook her head.

“Could we please get back to the point at hand?” The minister nagged from where he stood by the fireplace, done with what seemed to be schoolgirl gossip. “Not only did Sirius Black lead him to the Potters’ that night, but he also killed Peter Pettigrew!” She proclaimed and threw his hands in the air.

“He killed Peter Pettigrew?” Rosmerta gasped and McGonagall raised her hands before she let them clap down on her lap. “Yes! The little lump of a boy! Always trailing after James and the others!”

“Well, what happened?” Rosmerta pushed as the Minister shook his head and walked over to grab a drink from across the room, mere inches away from Harry as he began to hyperventilate. 

“Well that night, Peter Pettigrew? He would have gone to warn the Potters! If he didn't run into Sirius Black.” She waved her hand in exacerbation.

“Black was vicious, he didn't just kill Peter, he destroyed him.” The minister dramatized. “All that was left… was his finger!” He mused and walked back to the group of people gathered by the couch.

“And Black, he may not have lifted his wand to the Potters but he’s the reason that they are dead.” The professor chimed in and Rosmerta gave a scandalized sound.

“And what's worse!”

“It gets worse?”

“Sirius Black was, and still remains to this day, Harry Potter’s Godfather!” She stated, making Rosmerta gasp. 

“No.”

Harry saw the vision around his eyes grow blurry, his breath growing more erratic as he stepped back. Sharply turning to leave, before Hagrid stood up and walked to the door. He cursed internally, Merlin Hagrid! You bloody mess! MOVE!

He stumbled back and slipped down to the floor. Hugging his knees as he tried to settle himself before anyone noticed.

“That is why the dementors are everywhere. I do find it unfortunate, and I am deeply sorry for their transgressions in Hogsmeade itself. You know, however, just how important it is to keep Harry Potter safe.” The Minister spoke and Harry buried his face in his knees. He felt every single word like it was a knife to his chest. His father has trusted him, that man that had betrayed so many people who could have been his family, his own! To know now that other people were still suffering, not just because of Black, but to protect him? Guilt filled his chest and leaked out with the tears that tried to soak his cheeks. 

“That being said, I believe there are other matters to speak to.” The Minister mused and nodded to Minerva who stood. “Just a moment, Minister. I know you came to speak on the complaints with the residents, but I have something to speak with you about. It's rather important, and it just can't wait.”

“Very well, McGonagall.” The Minister mused and turned to face her, hands on his hips. “But do make it quick.”

“I will, Rosmerta? Hagrid? A moment please?” She mused and the other two nodded. Rosmerta shared a look with the professor before leaving, shuffling past Hagrid who squeezed his way to the door. 

“I’ll be waitin’ for ya’ by the door Professor.” Hagrid declared with a bright smile and she returned it.

“I will be down soon, Professor.” She returned and Hagrid lit up, stumbling over his words in a fluster and hurrying out the door. Walking away before he quickly hurried back with a spill of apologies and actually closed the door this time.

Minerva shared a look with the minister who stifled a chuckle. “Now, what is it, McGonagall?”

“Well, as you know, I have been checking on our… Vixen.” McGonagall mused and put her hands to her hip with a click of her tongue. The Minister’s eyebrows raised before he suddenly remembered, not everything about the story they had told was entirely true. 

“Right, right, our Vixen. Now, how is the old girl doing?”

“She’s remembering things. She remembers Peter, Lily. Merlin, she remembers Moody!” She waved her hands and the Minister nodded thoughtfully. 

“Ah, I see..” He mumbled. “That puts us in quite the predicament.” 

Harry felt his ears burn, focusing on their voices to keep himself sane and silent in the room. Trying not to choke out his sobs as he shook his head.

“Truly. She thinks them to be dreams right now, but who's to say it will be kept that way?” Minerva sighed. “It's only a matter of time before she remembers it all.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“I need your permission, but I would like to ask Dumbledore to undo the Obliviate spell on her.”

“Hm..” He mumbled and narrowed his eyes at the fire and there was a moment of silence before he spoke up. “A horrible time, truly.”

“Why is that, minister?”

“Then, it wouldn't just be Harry in danger, would it be?” He tutted and Minerva paused before she slowly nodded. “And who's to say she wouldn't try to stake her claim over Harry?” he mused and Minvera gave a long sigh.

“Is she much worse than that horrid house he stays at now?” She tried to argue and the minister shook his head.

“I haven't a clue about his home life.” He lied. “But, she was presumed dead. She is no longer his Godmother, she has none of those rights. Especially if she returns,”

Harry’s eyes widened and he covered his mouth. Godmother? He had a Godmother out there too? And she was Obliviated? He didn't want to hear another word. He was confused, scared, he wanted to get away. To wallow in his own emotions in peace. To release the lump in his throat that was threatening to asphyxiate him.

He stood to his feet and rushed out of the building, shoving past patrons who couldn't see him. Right past Hermione and Ron. He needed to get away.

Eventually he made it to a clearing and doubled over, holding his sides as he leaned on his knees and let out a wail. It was, not as he suspected, silent and painful to his lungs and throat. He lost his breath but no real sound left him. A noise that resembled more Scrabbers than a human, he squealed. Then, as his soft sobs took over, he heard footsteps behind him.

And there they were, Ron and Hermione, just like they always were.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 7 - Star

@jegulus-microfic February 7 Word count 743

ok this wasn't meant to be another multi-prompt story but here we are 🤣

CW- someone is tortured but it's not described but you know it's going on.

First part

Sirius had blindfolded him once they’d cleared the building. He could feel Sirius’s face still close to his. 

“We’re going to apparate in a second. Are you going to behave, or do I have to stun you?” Sirius growled into his ear. Regulus tried to twist his head away from his brother.

“Stunning it is.” Sirius sighed before Regulus felt a spell hit him, and then…

***

“Did you have to do that, Sirius?” James huffed as he rearranged Regulus’s limp body on his shoulders. 

“If he messed around, he would have splinched himself, and you might have as well. This was easier.” Sirius shrugged at James as he explained. “Come on, Mad-Eye will want to question him.” Sirius held his hand out to James, and they disapparated to their designated safe house. 

***

Regulus’s body felt stiff like he’d fallen asleep sitting up. Slowly, he cracked his eyes open. He was in a dark room, possibly a cellar. He wasn’t sure. If magic was being used, he could be anywhere. 

He tried to move and found he was strapped tightly to a wooden chair. 

“Ah, so you’re finally awake?” A gruff, gravely voice said from the shadows. Alastor Moody moved so he was just visible in the low light. 

Regulus supposed it was meant to be an intimidation tactic, but it wasn’t strong enough to work on him. The Auror clearly hadn’t asked Sirius for input, as he’d know that after dealing with Walburga Black, nothing these silly little men could do would get to him. 

“Hmmm, braver than you look, hey, Black? Let’s see how brave the lionhearted star really is.” He raised his wand, pointing it directly at Regulus’s chest, and all Regulus could think was this man was an idiot. The Regulus star wasn’t lionhearted. It was the heart of the lion, and as it was, his heart belonged to only one lion, a Gryffindor lion. 

He used thoughts of James to get him through the waves of torture Moody was about to perform.

***

Above them, in the kitchen, James and Sirius paced. Frank Longbottom had his wand on them, and they had been warned that if they tried to get into the cellar, he’d stun the pair without hesitating. So they paced. 

James flinched at every scream, and Sirius ranted and raved about how torture wouldn’t work on him because Walburga had made it her life’s mission to torture her sons until they could endure anything. 

“Just talk to him like I said to. He’s a twat, but he’ll talk more if you don’t piss him off with spells first.” He bellowed at the door.

James couldn’t speak at all. Every cry emitted from Regulus broke a piece of him. If he’d have thought even for a second that the Order would do this to him, he’d have taken him and run. 

Eventually, it went silent, and familiar clunking footsteps pounded up the stairs. The door to the cellar opened, and Mad-Eye walked out, looking tired and not at all satisfied. James and Sirius went to step around him, but he shot his arm out, blocking them. 

“Oh, no, you don’t,” He growled at them. “No one is to go near the prisoner.” 

“What the fuck Mad-Eye?!” Sirius cried as he tried in vain to get around him. 

“He’s not talking yet. But don’t you worry, he will.”

“No, he won’t! I’ve already told you, Moody, you won’t break him like that. All you’ve done is piss him off. He’ll never say a word to you now. Let us try. I know we can get through to him. He’ll talk to James and I. Please let us try.” By the end of his tirade, Sirius was pleading with the older wizard. James was glad Sirius had taken over. He was in no fit state to fight Mad-Eye. 

“Go on, Mad-Eye, it won’t hurt to let them have a crack at him.” Frank offered as he tried to defuse the situation and get the head Auror to see reason.

The grizzled wizard grunted something incoherent but nodded before he stomped out of the kitchen. They all understood he meant that James and Sirius could go down to Regulus.  

James stared at the cellar door. He felt sick at the thought that whatever had happened to Regulus was his fault if he hadn’t picked him up. None of this would have happened. 

He put his hand on the doorknob and turned it.    

Next part

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

alastor's busy with work eight days a week and doesn't get to see sirius often so sirius edges himself between visits for him

[wingedhallows]

traitor - ch. one; sirius black

pairing: sirius black (golden trio era) x fem! oc | 0.9k words warning: dark themes, death, torture plot: Fourteen years ago, Hecate Hunt, a valuable member of the Order and once a Death Eater gave her life for her friends and the man she loved, at least that's what was believed. Now she's done hiding, ready to fight alongside her old friends and her godson. Ready to return to the life she once had, ready to once again be a traitor. authors note: hi there! I've been meaning to write this since it's been wandering around in my head for weeks. Thank you for reading and let me know if you liked it! :) ps.: this is the first work of mine in years, i wrote a lot of fanfics in highschool but somehow this helps with taking my mind off things. thank u &lt;3 btw, things aren't absolutely accurate so don't come for me, let's just vibe, ok? ok.

navigation | chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four

then

"I want you all to meet a new member to the order. I believe her to be trusted, however you might think." from behind the old wizard a young woman emerged. Hair dark and long, a solem look on her face as she stepped infront of him. "Nice to meet you." she spoke, voice deep and firm. Her eyes were dark, almost black in the dim lit kitchen of the Black residence. Sirius felt himself lean forward, determined to catch a glimpse of her face.

"This is Hecate Hunt, a powerful witch and-"a Death Eater." Alastor Moody spoke, his eye skimming from side to side, mouth in a smarl. "Felt it minutes ago." The other members let their shock be known. Gasps and whispers present. She knew the members, of course. How could she not know the legendary Marauders, for one. 

"Why would you bring a Death Eater to this place, Albus?" Minerva spoke, voice almost too quiet to hear. Hecate let her gaze wander to Lily and James Potter who held hands, thumbs stroking each others hands. She had known the younger members, as she visited Hogwarts the same years they did. They were hard to miss. Remus Lupin just stared at her, hands in fists. Sirius Black on the other hand had his jaw clenched, mouth in a scowl and his wand in his hand. She knew of the older Black all too well. She had listened to the Dark Lord complain about Walburga and Orions incapability of turning their own son to the dark side multible times.

"Hecate has changed her mind in light of recent events.-"I don't buy it. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater." Sirius interupted Albus, his fist connected with the dark wooden table as he spat the words. Anger rose inside of her, she knew of his temper, had seen it first hand in their school days. "Oh you would know all about it, right? Since your familiy's swamped with'em and all, Black." Hecate spat, hands now crossed over her chest. She stooped low, she knew, but she had to get in, she had to make a change. She wouldn't let Black ruin it.

Sirius was fast to jump to his feet, wand raised and his body shaking with anger. "How dare yo-"Sirius, please." Remus tugged him down to his chair. Hecate didn't back down, ready to take whatever would jump from the purebloods wand. It wouldn't be worse than to stand against the Cruciato curse, which made its way passed Lord Voldemorts lips all too often. 

Albus huffed a sigh as he eyed Sirius. "If i could continue what i was about to say." Hecate shifted her weight from one leg to another, uneasy with the mood in the room. "Hecate was the witch who freed Alice and Frank Longbottom from the clutches of Death Eaters." he paused, looking at the woman next to him. "Delivered them right to me. I believe that no real Death Eater would've shown them mercy. Therefore, after careful thinking, i recruit Hecate Hunt to be a member of the Order." she gave him a curt nod before taking a seat. She had freed them, too late though. Barty Crouch Jr had broken their minds when she arrived. She'd just spared them from their death. Her eyes once again connected with those of Sirius.

"The reason why i want to help you, is my sister."

now

Harry made his way passed the table, to the cabinets filled with plates and mugs. Sirius sat at the head of the table, a mug in one hand and the daily prophet in the other. "Morning, Harry." he spoke, a hopeful smile on his bearded face. Remus Lupin sat to his right, a little notebook placed on the table in front of him as he looked up at Padfoots godson. "Morning." he spoke as he saw Harry. He also greeted Lupin with a small smile. "Good Morning."  They didn't mind Harry looking around, it was an old and interesting house after all. Harry thanked Kreacher as the house elf scrambled to make the kid a cup of tea. His eyes locked on a picture frame. The only picture frame there was. 

There he saw Sirius and a woman he didn't know. Sirius looked younger, twenty maybe, the woman next to him was beautiful. Her dark long hair hung down her shoulders, shimmering in the warm sunlight as a bright smile spread across her pale face. Sirius gave her an adoring look before he smacked his lips on her cheek. The moment repeated, as every foto in the wizard world does.

"Sirus." he spoke, voice quiet. "Who is this?"

He turned around to look at his godfather. His face had frozen up, the shadow of a tear in his eyes. "Harry.." He could hear Remus say, an attempt of pushing the matter away.

"That's.." Sirius had to take a breath, his voice failing him. "Hecate Hunt." he spoke. He took a sip of his mug, the daily prophet long forgotten on the table in front of him. "Your godmother." it was merely a whisper as he spoke. Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.

He had a godmother, somewhere out there-"She's dead." his voice rang in Harry's head. Harry placed the picture on the table, hand on his hip as he tried again. "How-"That's enough, Harry." Remus said, before Sirius rose to his feet and left, a quiet sob sounded in the distance.

"You-Know-Who killed her, there's nothing more to it." Remus spoke before he walked after his best friend. The boy once more stared at the picture in front of him. The woman, Hecate, once again gave the camera a warm smile. Just as young Sirius planted another forcefull kiss on her cheek he could hear a loud rumble upstairs. 

Sirius had just blown something to bits.