H O G W A R T S | H A V E N 🐾 ⚡️ 🦉

The boy who had no choice.

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Happy Birthday, Draco Lucius Malfoy!

@dailyhpgifs | Scenes Event

“Harry had received two letters from Sirius since he had been back at Privet Drive. Both had been delivered, not by owls (as was usual with wizards), but by large, brightly colored tropical birds. Hedwig had not approved of these flashy intruders; she had been most reluctant to allow them to drink from her water tray before flying off again. Harry, on the other hand, had liked them; they put him in mind of palm trees and white sand, and he hoped that, wherever Sirius was (Sirius never said, in case the letters were intercepted), he was enjoying himself.“

It is just an amazingly well written fic that gives insight into pureblood customs, and the first wizarding war in the perspective of the Death Eaters.

It’s centered on Lucius and Narcissa (the angst and feels are so real with this one guys!) but also shows characterization of Rodolphus Lestrange (terrifyingly brutal but dangerously attractive), Bellatrix Black, Rabastan Lestrange...and so on.

It doesn’t sugarcoat the evil. They are all very bad people without remorse and much beyond redemption in anyway. They do unspeakable things. But the story humanizes the Death Eaters. They too are just people. You somewhat understand them.

Definitely worth a read.

I, personally, had trouble getting started reading it because I can’t imagine either Lucius or Narcissa with anyone else, but once I got into it, I really enjoyed it, and there’s a sequel that’s pretty good so far. 

Narcissa: Tell me my hair is prettier than yours.

Shattered

A oneshot inspired by pocketpadfoot’s heartbreaking prompt.

-

The scent of pancakes filled the entire house. Mrs. Potter was at the stove, happily humming as she turned the cake over. James was setting the table and Sirius was preparing the tea.

CRASH!

“Son of a-”

Mrs. Potter and James both jumped, surprised not just by the crash but by Sirius’ loud shout. He had accidentally dropped the tea kettle and it was now lying on the floor in several pieces.

“Careful now,” Mrs. Potter quickly said, “Watch your step.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius croaked, “I’m…I’m so…”

He broke off and buried his face in his hands.

“Sirius?” James slowly asked, “Are you okay?”

His jaw fell as he realized that Sirius’ body was shaking.

Mrs. Potter gasped and cried, “Sirius, what is it? Did you step on a piece? Are you hurt?”

With a flick of her wand, the pieces all jumped onto the counter, allowing her to race over to the crying teenager with James in tow.

“I can’t even prepare the damn tea,” Sirius burst out.

Mrs. Potter pulled him into a hug and gently said, “There, there. It’s okay. No need to get upset.”

“What happened?” Mr. Potter exclaimed, racing in.

“Sirius is upset because he dropped the kettle,” James explained, bewildered by just how upset his friend was.

“You din’t get hurt, did you?” Mr. Potter worriedly asked Sirius.

Sirius shook his head.

“Then, why are you upset?” Mr. Potter asked.

“Because,” Sirius miserably cried, “It’s no wonder that my f…family kept saying just how much of a…d…disappointment I…I was.”

Mr. Potter’s eyes widened and he exchanged glances with James. He then joined his wife in murmuring words of comfort.

James remained silent, not sure of what to say.

At long last, he spoke up, “Yeah, you're right, mate.”

Sirius looked up and he continued, “It is disappointing. And quite frankly, I think that you should leave.”

“James is right,” Mr. Potter agreed, “You’re a good kid, Sirius, but we can’t have kettle breakers in this house. Go on. Pack your bags.”

Sirius shakily smiled and Mrs. Potter added, “We’d better just contact Dumbledore and tell him to send you an expulsion letter.”

“It was nice knowing you, mate,” James sighed, “‘Shame it had to end like this.”

Sirius finally chuckled.

“Honestly, dear,” Mrs. Potter gently said, “It’s just a broken kettle. It can be repaired in an instant.”

Sirius nodded and she raced over to the stove to remove the pancake.

James clapped him on his shoulder and Mr. Potter asked, “Alright?”

“Yeah,” Sirius appreciatively said, “It’s weird though…my parents would be screaming at me if I broke a kettle.”

“Well, we don’t get mad at such trivial things,” Mr. Potter warmly said, “If you break the coffee pot, on the other hand, you’re sleeping outside.”

Sirius threw his head back and roared with laughter.

Mrs. Potter beamed, pointed her wand at the kettle, and said, “Reparo.”

Witherwings

A oneshot for @starsofyoursoul!

Happy Birthday!

(I totally just stopped in the middle of a midterm to write this.)

They couldn’t remember who had given it to them.

Sirius said Andromeda.

Regulus said Uncle Alphard.

They couldn’t remember who had named it.

Sirius was adamant that he had thought of the name.

Regulus would argue the point until his face was red.

They couldn’t even remember who it originally belonged to.

Ironically, Sirius said that it was originally Regulus’.

Regulus was sure that it had been Sirius’.

The Black brothers couldn’t remember these details because they had had Witherwings for as long as they could remember.

The earliest memory that both brothers could recall was Regulus’ third birthday. Orion and Walburga had forgotten to get presents. And cake. And decent personalities. Regulus had been in tears, until Sirius had handed him the stuffed hippogriff. A large smile had spread across Regulus’ face. He had buried his nose into the feathers, before promptly sneezing.

A few months later, Sirius had the misfortune of not finishing his dinner during a day when his parents were particularly unpleasant. The crying boy had been sent to his room for a week. Regulus had been forbidden to visit. Sirius had just drifted to sleep when a knock had caused him to jump twenty feet into the air. He had raced across his bedroom, yanking the door open, just in time to see Regulus’ closing. Witherwings had been on the other wide of the door.

And so it went.

Regulus received Witherwings when he was diagnosed with a mild case of Dragonpox.

Sirius received Witherwings when Bellatrix pushed him out of a tree, breaking his arm.

Regulus received Witherwings when he had been grounded for a month.

Sirius received Witherwings when Orion and Walburga gave him a pile of coal for Christmas.

Sometimes, they received Witherwings for no reason at all.

One day, Walburga let out a series of spells which reduced Witherwings to a pile of stuffing. Sirius spent weeks sewing it back together, before giving it to a very excited Regulus.

And on September 1st, 1971, Regulus raced after the Hogwarts Express, his arm outstretched. Sirius leaned out the window, haphazardly, only just able to grab the stuffed hippogriff from his brother’s hand.

And a year later, when Regulus shuffled down to the dorms beneath the lake, he was shocked when Witherwings was sitting on his pillow. He had no idea how Sirius had managed to get it down there, but he didn’t care. He curled up with the stuffed hippogriff, his stomach churning.

James and Remus became the official middlemen, in charge of distributing Witherwings from one brother to the other when necessary.

It was in Sirius’ possession on the night that he ran away. He snuck into his brother’s bedroom, smiling as Regulus loudly snored. He tucked Witherwings into the crook of Regulus’ elbow, watching as his brother instinctively hugged the stuffed animal.

And on a gloomy night, eighteen-year-old Regulus Apparated onto the stoop of Sirius’ flat. He gave the hippogriff a hug, one final time, his eyes brimming with tears.

And when Sirius opened the door the next morning, to see the battered hippogriff on his doorstep, he somehow knew.

When the news officially came out, Sirius took Witherwings to the cemetery, setting him down in front of the tombstone of the boy who had left before his final flight.

It would be another fifteen years before Sirius would see that hippogriff again.

He was barely able to walk, his very soul still shaking after his near encounter with the Dementors. He sat in Flitwick’s office and thought of Harry, of James, of Lily, of Regulus.

And when he heard a knock, prompting him to look out the window,  he felt something purer than shock overpower him. 

Split: A Oneshot

(Because I am here for the headcanon that when Sirius said something philosophical, he was really repeating something that Mr. Potter had once told him.)

“Dinner!”

Sirius didn’t hear the cheerful cry.

He didn’t hear the knock on the bedroom door.

He didn’t hear the door open.

In fact, he was only brought out of his thoughts when someone gently put their hand on his shoulder. He jumped before relaxing as he realized that the han belonged to Mr. Potter.

“Sirius,” Mr. Potter gently said, “Are you alright?”

“Sure,” Sirius lied, “I’m…I’m fine.”

“You’ve always been a bad liar,” Mr. Potter chuckled, “What’s on your mind?”

Sirius gazed at the photograph that he had placed on his bedside table. He had accidentally dropped it, causing the glass to split down the middle.

“I wanted him to come with me,” Sirius whispered, “I begged him. I practically dragged him out of the house. But he wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t or couldn’t?” Mr. Potter softly said.

“Does it matter!?”

“It matters,” Mr. Potter replied.

Sirius sighed and muttered, “I thought that he was different. I thought that he…that he wasn’t like the rest of my family.I thought that he was like me…”

“How do you mean?”

“I thought that he was good,” Sirius burst out, “I thought that…”

He broke off.

Mr. Potter patiently waited.

“But he’s not,” Sirius sighed, “I’d give it a year before he joins the Death Eaters.”

“Sirius,” Mr. Potter gently said, “The world isn’t split between good people and Death Eaters.”

Sirius turned and Mr. Potter whispered, “We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on.”

Sirius pondered this for a moment.

“So,” Sirius eventually said, “You think that Regulus has light inside him?”

“Of course.”

Sirius gazed at the photograph for a moment before saying, “Do you think that he’ll act on it?”

“Yes, I do,” Mr. Potter replied, “I think that there will come a day when Regulus is faced with a difficult choice. And I think that he’ll make the right decision.”

Sirius beamed and whispered, “Thanks.”

Just Me: A Oneshot

James Potter was frustrated.

The twelve-year-old strolled up and down the corridor of the Hogwarts Express. Try as he might, he couldn’t find his best friend.

He eventually spotted him emerging from a compartment.

“There you are!” James happily said.

To his shock and dismay, Sirius completely ignored him.

“Oi,” James called, “Sirius!”

He ran forward before screeching to a halt. The boy in front of him was not Sirius. Though James had to admit that he did look remarkably similar.

The boy sighed and muttered, “Sorry, it’s just me.”

“Ah,” James replied, “Erm…who are you?”

“Regulus Black.”

“You’re Sirius’ brother?” James whispered, “Hullo! I’m…”

“I know who you are,” Regulus interjected.

“Well…” James slowly said, “Since you’re here…do you want to help me out?”

Regulus blinked and stammered, “W…with what?”

“Can you tell me where your brother is?”

“The compartment at the end of the corridor,” Regulus retorted.

He walked away without another word, leaving a perplexed James in his wake.

oOo

James Potter was in trouble.

He dashed across the rolling green grounds.

He grinned as he spotted a familiar figure up ahead.

“Oi, Sirius!” James called, “Help me out, will…?”

He trailed off as he realized that he had made a mistake.

“Sorry,” Regulus shortly said, “It’s just me.”

“Ah, sorry.”

There was an awkward pause.

“Well,” James lightly said, “Since you’re here…do you want to help me out?”

“No bloody way.”

“Fine,” James sighed, “Just a fair warning, there’s going to be a swarm of doxies coming through here in about thirty seconds.”

“Wh…what?”

“’Just thought that I’d give you a head’s up,” James shrugged, “See ‘ya!”

He ran away without another word.

Regulus stood for a moment, utterly bewildered.

The sound of distant buzzing caused him to look up.

The sight of several dozen doxies caused him to race after James.

oOo

James Potter was annoying.

Every few months, he would mistake Regulus for his brother.

And every few months, Regulus would be quick to reply, “Sorry…it’s just me.”

He was getting quite sick of it.

After all, he and Sirius were nothing alike.

So why did Potter insist on acting like they were?

oOo

James Potter was in trouble…again.

He practically flew through the corridors of Hogwarts.

He could hear Filch’s deafening screams.

James rounded the corner and…

“OOF!”

He and another student collided and fell to the ground.

“Sirius?” James dazedly asked.

“Sorry,” Regulus sighed, “It’s just me.”

“Why do you say that?” James blurted out.

“Huh?”

“Why do you always say that?” James wondered, “Every time that I accidentally mistake you for your brother, you apologize.”

“I’m just apologizing for disappointing you,” Regulus slowly said.

“Why would I be disappointed?”

“Because I’m not Sirius.”

“Well…yeah…obviously,” James agreed, “But that’s no reason to be sorry.”

“I…it’s just an expression, Potter.”

James surveyed him for a moment.

Unfortunately, at that moment, Filch caught up with them.

“Well,” James quickly said, “Since you’re here…do you want to help me out?”

“Not particularly.”

“Fair enough.”

James quickly leapt to his feet and ran away.

Regulus chuckled as Filch hobbled after him.

The small laugh quickly faded into a frown.

Potter was looking way too into things.

The only reason why he apologized was because he knew that James had been expecting his brother. He didn’t think that there would ever be a time where James was glad to see him instead of Sirius.

oOo

James Potter was dead.

He was trying to get used to it.

He had at least an eternity to do so.

James thoughtfully roamed the afterlife, trying to take it all in.

He passed thousands of people.

He knew some of them.

Others were complete strangers.

And then, one day…

“Sirius?” James gasped, “No…no!”

The figure looked up and whispered, “Don’t worry…it’s just me.”

“Regulus,” James whispered.

Regulus let out a dry laugh and said, “I guess that this is the one time that you’re happy to see me instead of Sirius, eh?”

James frowned and quietly said, “You have it backwards.”

“Huh?”

James stepped forward and put a hand on Regulus’ shoulder.

"I was never sorry to see you,” James firmly said, “You never had to apologize for not being Sirius. I was always happy to see you. The only exception is right now. I wish that you weren’t here. I mean…I wish that you weren’t actually here in the afterlife. I wish that you were alive.”

Regulus nodded and quickly said, “I know what you mean.”

There was a moment as he processed the rest of James’ statement. His eyes sparkled when he did.

“Well,” James gently said, “Since you’re here…do you want to help me out?’

“With what?”

“I expect that it’s going to get sort of lonely in here,” James explained, “I have Lily, of course. And my parents. But…I could use a friend to hang out with.”

“I’m not going to act like a replacement for your friends,” Regulus quickly said, “I’m not…I’m not going to act like Sirius.”

“I don’t expect you to be Sirius,” James remarked.

"I’m not going to be Lupin either,” Regulus warned, “Or Pettigrew.”

“Regulus,” James laughed, “I’m not expecting you to.”

“Then…” Regulus slowly said, “Who do you want me to be?”

In Sirius’ third year and Regulus’ second, Regulus walked in with the rest of the Quidditch team, only to find Sirius comfortably sitting in their captain’s favorite recliner. Over the indignant splutters, he cried, “Oi, I’m not the one who made the password ‘Pureblood.’ It took me two tries. Come on.” Regulus cracked a smile and asked, “What was the first guess?” “Dark Arts.” “That was the password last week.” “Figures.“ Sirius’ grin didn’t waver, even when no less than six wands surrounded his face. He simply backed away through the entrance, though not after handing Regulus a photo of Andromeda’s newborn.

In Sirius’ fourth year and Regulus’ third, the Slytherins all came down to the common room one morning, only to find Sirius on the other side of their window. Which would be impressive in and of itself but they were beneath the lake. The older students recognized the signs of Gillyweed. The students who pretended that they had no affiliations with Muggles recognized the glass cutter. “Black, for Merlin’s sake!” Snape screamed. “If you cut the glass, the water will come through and we could all drown!” Sirius raised his eyebrows. Regulus hid a smirk. Sirius cut the glass.

In Sirius’ fifth year and Regulus’ fourth, Regulus invited him in and the two stared down anyone who opened their mouths, daring them to challenge the sons of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Nobody did.

In Sirius’ sixth year and Regulus’ fifth, honestly, nobody knew quite how to describe it. They had heard what had happened at 12 Grimmauld Place. They knew that Sirius would never return as long as he could help it. He should have been seen as a traitor. He certainly wasn’t an ally to any of them. Which was why they were a little ashamed when they just let him walk in as he pleased, nodding to Snape, who turned a page in his potions book and muttered, “Morning, Black.” which changed to, “Evening, Black.” when he left.