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Readmore for length due to throwing headcanons and app info below. TRIGGER WARNING: Brief references to anxiety and depression in summary section. Writing sample hints at child abuse/neglect and references pot and alcohol use.
In summary:
A bunch of trauma and trust issues bottled up into fake smiles and using partying as an attempt at forgetting everything. He’s fine though. Totally not fine.
Unspoken fear of losing the found family he has leaves him treading carefully. Not necessarily a visible trait but there may be anxiety toward losing people that can be blamed on never positively processing being disowned
Took the brunt of his parents’ antics/anger and kept quiet about it, still has minimal interest toward letting that slip to Regulus. Not happy with keeping that a secret, but figures it’s better to shoulder on his own than risk fully shattering whatever warped view of the family Regulus has as the youngest.
Was never keen on opening up about family. Can count the number of people he trusts with that info on one hand.
Plays into androgynous looks. Only positive to come from being disowned (besides found family of course) was getting to be more free in expressing himself.
The type of teen that would have stolen one of his cousins’ skirts and been offended by their being offended/annoyed or having the audacity to ask for it back. I can’t stop thinking of this scene from the Umbrella Academy.
Big fan of Queen and David Bowie.
Finds his motorbike equally as freeing as a broomstick, simply has a preference for the more hands-on maintenance that’s required for the bike’s upkeep.
His fingernails are painted more often than not. Habit of picking polish off if stressed.
100% threatened to permanently charm neon pink nail polish on his nails the day Orion called it an issue.
Dramatic since birth.
Would have had professors fooled with being quiet the first couple of weeks of school just to turn into a loud mouth once certain the school’s way of handling his hijinks didn’t involve his parents’ approach in doing so.
The app info:
Birthday: Born November 3, 1960, Sirius was meant to be the answer to the Black family’s hopes of an heir. A Scorpio through and through, it shouldn’t have been all that surprising the heir’s sarcastic and precocious side shined. Birthdays weren’t something Sirius looked forward to while home. It wasn’t exactly something his parents made a big deal about and was usually met with disappointment. Ill thought out gifts with the intent of stifling his curiosity and creativity. In truth, things that would have been more suitable for Regulus than himself. That opinion changed once at Hogwarts and he won’t admit to it now, but the first proper party that involved well thought out gifts and not simply acknowledging for the sake of knowing he’d make a scene had left him in tears.
Wand: 7 ½ inches, fir, curupira hair. Getting his wand was a rushed trip that involved Walburga expecting it to be a one and done sort of ordeal. The first two wands backfired and Sirius can still clearly recall being told to halt his mischief even though he wasn’t doing anything. He was almost certain a failed third attempt would result in being pulled out of the shop by his ear. The third try proved to be his though, and there was no hiding the grin at realizing he had been given a core that could be just as mischievous as he was.
Amortentia: Freshly mowed grass, whiskey, and cigar smoke are the scents that seem hellbent on sticking around. The first comes from Sirius having used quidditch as an outlet during school. The second serves as a form of self-medicating (he’s fine - the drinking isn’t an issue and he knows when to stop before it turns into making shit life choices). Alcohol has been just as much a friend as his actual friends have been so there’s no giving it up at this point. Cigar smoke is a peculiar one since it’s specifically the brand his father smoked. There are few happy memories of Grimmauld Place but the scent is familiar and enough to serve as a reminder that he still has people back there that he misses.
Boggart: When time came for facing boggarts at Hogwarts, Sirius did the unexpected and stuck to the back of the line of students. While many would have expected him to go running head on into the class experience, a boggart wasn’t on his priority list. Certainly not when that meant the risk of students and a professor being able to put a face to the shrill tone that came from his mother’s howlers. Things got as far as the sound of high heels echoing from the closet before he mumbled riddikulus and replaced what would have been his mother’s rapid approach with marbles rolling across the classroom floor. It was before anyone could speculate since he didn’t want questions about his homelife to come about. More recently, things have come down to fearing Regulus dying. A rather ridiculous fear considering his own well-being should be on the list and the rather tense relationship between them as of recent, but there’s a layer of guilt. That guilt has lingered ever since he left home without so much as a looking back. Regulus was the opposite — the golden child of the two siblings — and Sirius hasn’t stopped presuming the worst since leaving him behind in their family’s clutches.
Patronus OR No Patronus: Happiness has been hard to find as of recent and Sirius is good at faking it. He can produce a patronus if needed, with its corporeal form taking on the shape of a dog that is similar to his animagus form. Moments of happiness are few and Sirius has no shame in admitting he relies on memories of goofing off with his friends or Mrs. Potter’s hugs as a way of fueling the spell.
Writing Sample:
The tears had come from nowhere, and Sirius hadn’t even summoned the courage to walk up the path that led to the Potter’s home. A mix of fear, frustration, and exhaustion pooled in his stomach. He had taken to playing with the muggle lighter he kept on him from the very moment the Knight Bus dropped him off a street away from his best friend’s home.
Worse yet, he didn’t have it in him to light one of the blunts or take a sip from the flask in his jacket pocket. Too emotional and too much trauma surrounding the argument that ensued before it came to his name getting blasted off the family tapestry. It was something he had assumed would happen eventually. A threat that had lingered since the day his mother realized it was somewhat effective. He had merely figured she would have waited until he was of age to do something instead of acting a year earlier than he anticipated.
She hadn’t opted for using her fists or her wand to get her point across, and that was something Sirius was grateful for. There would have been no explanation if he showed up bloodied or bruised in a spot that wasn’t easily hidden by his robes. The moment spent trying to summon the courage and mask of happiness he usually plastered on felt like an eternity.
He didn’t have his watch on him, but it had to have been five minutes of standing on the sidewalk with a blank expression and his trunk clutched firmly in his hand. No one passed by though, so he was able to remain there uninterrupted.
Another moment, then the teen took a steadying breath. His lip quivered as he headed toward the Potter’s, fist shaking once he reached up to knock on the door. The door opened and Sirius was appalled to be face-to-face with Euphemia. He had grown far too used to keeping up the persona of being the life of the party. Always smiling, grateful to be welcomed as a guest, and quick to make sure mannerisms from back home didn’t pop up while over. He couldn’t summon any of it, though, instead shifting uncomfortably on the balls of his feet. Sirius didn’t make eye contact when she asked if things were okay, simply hiccoughing in response. It took a soft “Sirius,” and a hand on his shoulder to make him look up with an expression that was similar to a deer in headlights.
“Sorry, I-“ He trailed off before he got to stammering and quickly shook his head, wrapping his arms around his middle. “I shouldn’t have… but there’s nowhere else to… they… tapestry.” The words were barely a coherent sentence, but seemed to be enough to get the point across, earning a loud sob when he wasn’t asked anything else and was gently pulled in for a hug.
