♔ R E D U C T O ♔

section one / basics.

CHARACTER NAME.

FRANKLIN / The name was given to you for your father. Where your mother was refined, proper in every sort of the way, your father had been much more unique. A curious gentleman, looking at the world through rose tinted lenses. He died when you were seventeen, fresh out of Hogwarts with a keen sense of wonder at the world. But, he believed in you, and you revelled in it. Your biggest supporter, your biggest inspiration. You carry it with you proudly. AUGUSTINE / The only name your mother was allowed to choose, it felt eerily similar to that of her own but you don’t mind. She raised you and as much as you may not see eye to eye, you love her. It sounds regal, ethereal even, and it’s with that knowledge that you feel as though you have something to prove, something to make them remember your name. LONGBOTTOM /  Part of the Sacred 28, it could’ve been you. You could’ve been donning robes and supporting a man who sought to create a genocide over differences. Didn’t you all bleed the same, was there not red crimson streaks of blood dripping down your face all the same? Your family has never been known for intolerance, and you plan on keeping it that way. Yet, never has there been such loud whispers of blood traitor following your families legacy. You’d apologize, but that would require giving a damn.

FACECLAIM.

I am going to present four options here. Bob Morley, Daniel Sharman, Luke Pasqualino or Max Irons. I would be happy with any of them. My heart and soul for any of you to make this painstaking decision for me. I love all four of them for his character, each one bringing a certain something to his character. I’ve listed my choices in preference order.

PRONOUNS AND GENDER.

Frank is considered a cismale and uses he/him pronouns.

MOTIVATION.

I made the decision to be completely unbiased when choosing my next character, I had decided to read through skeletons and ultimately it was Frank’s that managed to pop out at me once again. Before the roleplay opened, it was Frank that I was drawn to. He carries so much fire, so much passion and is a great example of a radical for the Orders side of the war. Where you’ve written death eaters who remain very very loyal to their cause, Frank for me was that but for the “good guys” He is such a layered character, a man who grew up with the people he now knows as nothing more than the enemy. It’s almost heartbreaking that he would once remember a childhood bliss with these people, only to grow up and realize that the world isn’t that simple.

He is the warmth one feels with acceptance, an exception. Brought up in a more than accepting household, there was never a time in which Frank sought out to disrespect the differences he had with those around him. In fact, if anything, he relished in them. Realizing that there was such a simple beauty in the way the world worked. Muggles, muggleborns, half bloods and purebloods alike. He’s a firm believer in equality, in shaping the world to be a safe haven for those who are oft ostracized. A boy so willing to die for a cause he believes in wholeheartedly , for equality. There was simply nothing more beautiful than that of a born leader. He’s natural with his charm, most notably carrying traits that would label him a golden boy. A title in which he wears quite well. Others envy him not for his money or purity but for his kind heart , unwavering loyalty and natural charm. Who he is as a person. Deeply admired.

He’s hope , he’s a new dawn. There are so many stigma’s that come with being the good guy , with being the justice serving revolutionary, and he seemingly fits under none of them. He’s flawed, heavily. It’s those flaws alone that will, ultimately, be his undoing. The faith he has, the determination and drive he has to see the world as he wants to , his fatal flaw. He makes mistakes with every turn and yet he’s learning. With each misfire, he gets up and tries again. Sheer dedication to his cause, he stays true to his promise to bring a brighter tomorrow.

There are so many layers that go into creating a characterization for a boy like Frank and I soon began to find out that I admired his flaws as much as I admired his strength. He looks death in the face and fights for his beliefs. Not because it is the easy thing to do, but the right thing. There was just something about his character that I found enchanting, if you will. Something that made me go “yes , this is what I’ve been looking for.” I love him and the potential a character such as him carries, a man who believes in change, who wants to see the world a better place. He is a fighter, a strong powerhouse of an Auror who is actively seeking change. The quote that truly hit him with me for Frank was “You save everyone, but who saves you?” as well as “You can’t save everyone, but you can try.”

ANY CHANGES.

My only change to Frank would be that he be included in the Slug Club from his time at Hogwarts as well as the Duelling Club now outside of school. I can see him fitting into both these things very well. Slug Club due to his high standing talent in Defence Against the Dark Arts and the Duelling Club because he wants to help any way he can. He’s an Auror, it’s in his nature to be drawn to anything and everything to do with duelling.

section two / about.

BIRTHDATE.

OCTOBER 3RD. Frank shows all the truest signs of a Libra. Striving for nothing more, nothing less than justice and equality. Libra’s have been known to do what is best for everyone. Believing in such things as peace and harmony, Libra is a sign that most would pair with leadership, which is a trait that Frank shows the utmost of dedication to. His difficulty of saying no shines through as a truth for his Libra personality, often causing him to become slightly overwhelmed with the promises he’s kept. Frank tends to stretch himself too thin in order to please those around him. His more mischievous side, trouble making, rule breaking, can also be blamed upon his astrological sign. Libra’s are known for all three of the former .

SEXUALITY.

Frank identifies as heterosexual ( I know right? In this economy? )

PERSONALITY.

( NEGATIVE / IMPULSIVE ) :  It’s why he makes such a good Auror, some would say. It’s also what manages to get him written up as much as he’s been. While following his gut is something that comes with the job, disregarding orders for the sake of ones own belief does not. He’s impulsive, always thinking little before acting. Most of the time, it pays off, which absolutely abhors his superiors. They call it dumb, blind luck. He calls it intuition.

( POSITIVE / CRUSADER ) : He fights for what is right, he knows in his heart of hearts that there will be a brighter tomorrow. There is no greater pride than to stand up for others who cannot stand up for themselves, and it’s what Frank does on a daily basis. A lion roars in his chest, bravery seeping through his skin. With a loyalty that is unwavering, the notion of hero is worn well against his skin. He proves himself a fighter, a voice for those who cannot speak up.

( NEGATIVE / SELF SACRIFICING ) : Willing to throw himself into chaos if it means saving others. It’s the hero complex that is buried deep inside him that gives him the complete lack of regard for his own life. He doesn’t think about it much, dying. However, he’d be willing to do it if it meant innocent people got a chance at a normal life. He has the qualities of a martyr, and perhaps that’s the greatest tragedy of all. He’d be willing to fall, willing to die if it meant he’d bettered the world, defeated the evil.

( POSITIVE / COMPASSIONATE ) : He cares about others, it’s what allows him to wake up in the morning. Without the people he cares about surrounding him, does life truly have any sort of meaning? He listens, he takes note, and he understands. Or at least, he tries to. Frank was raised in pureblood society, galas and debauchery with those he now looks at with disdain was something he knew all too well. So, he tries his hardest, tries his damned hardest to separate the old feelings of nostalgia that wash over him in order to help those in need. He wants to be the shoulder people cry on, the fists they count on to come and save the day. There’s no need for glory, no need for praise, he just wants to know he’s doing something right.

( NEGATIVE / SELF RIGHTEOUS ) :  He believes in the order, in justice, in the beauty of chaos but not the devastation of it. He practices what he preaches, that has never been the problem. The issue, as much as he’d tried to keep it at bay, was his significant ego for his own morals. He’d held himself to such a high standard that it became second nature to become somewhat of a self righteous prick. He was never boastful nor flashy with his talents, exceeding most in DADA, but he did however talk about how one day they’d be saying the name Frank Longbottom with admiration, how he’d go down in history. Little did he know that it would be a much darker, tragic story than that of a simple hero.

( POSITIVE / TRUSTWORTHY ) : He is as loyal as a dog. It’s as simple as that. He never wanted power, or fame. Merely to make the world a better place when he leaves than how it was when he’d arrived. He is someone you go to when times are tough, when the world seems to heavy. A man who carries his word with pride, he knows how hard it is to be able to trust those around you in such daunting times. Yet, his oaths mean much more than you’d think. He had always been unable to lie to the people he’d cared about, a boy with blush tinged cheeks at the mere attempt to do so. He’s trustworthy, a person worthy to be a confidante.

PLOT POINTS.

CHAPTER ONE : THE PAST. You grew up golden. An only child to older parents who dotted on you with any chance they got. Your mother, as materialistic as she may have been, had always had your best interest at heart. She was every bit of good that you believed in the world, a woman with a strong moral compass and an even stronger sense of what was right and what was wrong. Your father, while slightly neurotic, was a man of intrigue. You could never quite tell what he was thinking, and yet he’d crafted himself into your biggest support system when need be. Pureblood society may not have upturned their nose at the Longbottom name then, now is a different story. Your upbringing was nothing short of something ripped from a fairytale, a favourable son, a magical prodigy in the making. There was nothing but hope in your vision for the future. You were born and bred into the finer things in life, dress robes and galas supporting your youth. However, it never stopped you from breaking from your pureblood society shell and discovering the nature of others around you. A keen interest in muggles, an unwavering selflessness that others found simply disinteresting. You were genuine, a heart of gold beating in your chest. You’ve never been malicious, nor crass in your thoughts. You were as innocent as any other seemingly sheltered child. Yet, when your father died, a part of you did as well. You heard your mother whimper when you’d informed her that you’d be joining the fight to fix the world you once thought infallible. He’s just a boy. But you were anything but. You were a born and bred hero, a man who would become the face for change, someone who sought to help the helpless. You were anything but a boy, you were a man who found himself in the middle of the battlefield and with just cause. The death of the man who sought to make your world better did little to extinguish the flame that danced beneath your skin. In fact, it only seemed to drive you further into the depths of justice. You wanted to make him proud, you wanted to change the world like he so often said you once would.Frank Longbottom, he’d whisper, you were made for something great. And so you persevere, you thrive in the chaos that surrounds you and you work to make tomorrow a brighter day for those who cannot.  

CHAPTER TWO : THE PRESENT.  You have crafted yourself a force to be reckoned with. A man who wields justice as much as he vouches for vengeance. Do you look in the mirror and see yourself a hero? Perhaps more often than not. You’ve worked hard to become what you are today, regardless of the doubt that plagued your home. You grew up loved, you grew up comfortable. But comfort isn’t appropriate for the world you live in, at least not right now. You plan to change that, plan to rip every corner and edge from it’s place and start fresh. There should be no such thing as intolerance, for nothing causes you to gnaw at your own lip in anger. Not one to have their blood boil with rage, you’ve kept a calm composure for the most part until now. Until you hear of wicked crimes, gruesome fates met at the hands of cowardice men and women who hide behind the name of a man who acts himself a god, masking themselves from the world. Perhaps it’s what makes you feel slightly superior. Where they are found faceless, you have no problem walking into the darkness without so much as a disguise to shield your beliefs from their wands. You are on the front lines, you’ve always intended for it to be this way. It was never in your nature to stand idly by and watch as those who cannot control their misdoings were tormented, who cannot fight for themselves. You bloody your knuckles with the enemies blood so often it begins to stain your skin, you find it exhilarating. To fight for what was right, and not for what was easy, brought you nothing but joy. However, some argued that you were too intense, too radical. A boy with a halo atop his head, you bore it like a crown of white roses, and now they’re turning red. Do you question how it is that the government has stayed so quiet? Absolutely. Yet you hold your head high and walk into the Auror office not for yourself, but for others. There is no greater glory than protecting the helpless, and perhaps that has given you a slight hero complex. Where the enemy plays God, you play a fallen angel. A soldier among mortals who seeks nothing but a peaceful world, something that deep down you’re unsure you may ever receive.

CHAPTER THREE : THE FUTURE. They’d come to know you as only a tragic hero. You’d continue to lose and lose as much as you gave. When does one stop? How do you know when to simply give up the fight? Do you ever know when enough is enough when you’ve been fighting a battle for so long? You forget who you are without a cause, you begin to diminish slowly but surely. You may not lose your might just yet, but you feel as though the grasp you have on life is slipping through your fingers. You were once a warrior, you were once the voice of others. Now, however, your battle cry is broken and battered. Had you ever imagined a world in which you wouldn’t succeed? Have you fallen so far that failure overcame you. You turn to every horrid thing you can think of, the bloodier you are, the better. The more you ache, the less others do. You have turned yourself into a sacrificial lamb for others to live, and you’d never want it any other way. But when you look at yourself in the mirror, you see a worn down tragic hero. You see a mosaic of broken parts begging to be glued back together. You, rebel boy, your heart is made of gold and you have but godly ichor flowing through your veins. The only thing that causes you to glisten, hopeful like before, is the thought of revolutions. Setting the world in which they’d conquered on fire one manor by one. However, does that make you the villain? To put men away who have families, who have wives and husbands who they’d in turn die for? You try not to think about it. War makes monsters out of all of you, and there’s no going back to the blissful days of innocence that littered your youth. Golden boy, you remind yourself, do not disappoint them. Do not disappoint them. If you falter, will the world crumble? Will all hope cease to exist? You are the most shining knight they could’ve ever forged, a man of revolution and of wonder. Now, however, you are a shell. You are a name and a title, you are a ghost. You act with a reckless nature, you hurt only to hurt. You think of killing, the sensation it would bring to be able to kill the bastards who left your world in ruins. A lack of control within his own mind, he keeps his pain at bay. The torment that eats him alive within the silence. What will become of you all, soldiers bred for a war that turned children into anything but with the mere blink of an eye. You’ll fight, however, until your dying day. If not for you, for her. She shines, a soft silk with sharpened edges against your skin. She is your only solace, and the world you’ve built together the only thing worth protecting. You’d rather lose your mind, you’d rather die than allow harm to come to her. You, the tragic hero, the man whose name would fill the pages of storybooks and fairytales for his courage, for his perseverance and for his might.

WRITING SAMPLE.

section three / other.

PERSONAL CONTENT.

I have a pinterest board you can find here.

CHARACTER INSPIRATION  :

THE KILLERS. Their music played a big part in this entire application. JAKE PERALTA. As foolish as that may seem, there are certain aspects that the pair share in terms of personality. STEFAN SALVATORE. That self sacrificing compassion? Yeah, I felt that.KING ARTHUR. For emo reasons. ROBIN HOOD. Steal from the rich, give to the poor? Sounds a lot like Frank if you ask me. FLYNN RIDER.

HEADCANONS:

ZEUS  –– Frank has a german shepherd, he’s not the most inconspicuous of men, named after the Greek God of justice.  A very loyal companion, Frank as well as his dog are the epitome of mans best friend. He cares for the beast, all the while knowing it may not be the most traditional of pets within the wizarding world. He always did have a slight fascination with things akin to the muggle world anyways.

BOOKS AND CLEVERNESS –– He loves to read, in his spare time he can often be found at Florean’s Ice Cream Shoppe with a book in hand absorbing every word while scarfing down a banana split. Others rely on their brute strength to get by, Frank however has always wanted to be multifaceted.

SMOKING GUN ––  His biggest vice is cigarettes, toothpicks, anything really that can hang from between his lips. It’s a nasty habit and yet he simply cannot stop. It’s a stress induced habit in which Frank cannot control, not while the world around him seems to be collapsing no matter how hard he tries to hold it with his shoulders.

He’s fascinated by muggle automobiles, especially motorcycles. His reckless nature tells him yes, while the bruises that lace his skin from attempts at riding them simply tell him no.

AESTHETICS :

Bruised knuckles wrapped in bandages, the booming voice of a revolution, eyes wide with wonder at the world. Leather jackets, a loyal beast by your side proving dogs are mans best friend, cigarettes hanging limply from between your lips. Combat boots, a charming grin, running your hands through your hair. Classic rock, warm heart with warmer hands. Shielding loved ones from bullets, sticking a middle finger up to the enemy.

EXTRAS :

Amortentia :  

TOBACCO –– He’s always loved the faint smell of cigarette smoke lingering through the air, grazing beneath his nose teasing his senses. FIREWOOD –– To you there is no greater smell, burning kindling as you watch the flames dance in the middle of a cold night. DROOBLES BEST BLOWING GUM –– A recent addition, she’s always popping away at the stuff and he cannot help himself. It’s sweet and sticky and so sickeningly filled with sugar and yet here he stands, completely and utterly enthralled.

Wand :

12 ¼” ASH WOOD WITH UNICORN TAIL CORE . A wand such as this is known to be loyal to one courageous owner. Something in which Frank’s description falls beneath. Those best suited are not often swayed by their opinions and/or beliefs , as Frank proves true with his stance upon the war and blood purity. He produces consistent magic, his wand and him having formed a bond most picturesque. His stubborn nature pleases the Ash Wood’s demands in an owner.

Patronus :  

Frank can in fact cast a patronus in the form of a German Shepherd. Known by nature as the rescuer . There’s an underlying hero complex that radiates from Frank’s character. He doesn’t ask to be the hero and yet the title is oft thrust upon him. He suppresses much of his own emotions and/or worries in order to cater to those around him in need of help. Whether it be the Order members themselves, or his family and close friends. So much of his doubt is bottled in, unable to reach the surface due to his unwavering sense of pride. The thing that struck a chord in terms of picking a patronus for Frank was, of course, the ideals that those who have a german shepherd as their patronus carry with them. The trivialities such as materialistic items in terms of the name and power that seemingly comes with his Pureblood status. It’s all expendable to the boy. He cares more about the well being of those around him, about leaving a permanent mark on the world.

Boggart :

Bone chilling, his spine rigid as he stares down into the darkened abyss. Death, he’d mused, far better than the future he’s forced to gaze upon. As if looking into a mirror, there’s something menacing about the smirk upon Frank’s features. For it grows and it grows until that of the cheshire cat himself. Darkened circles beneath eyes, he’s hollow, that much is known for certain. His company exposes that of his worst nightmare. Death Eaters bye his side, Voldemort sneering with satisfaction. As if devil themselves were drawing him into the storm.

section one / basics.

CHARACTER NAME.

Sirius Orion Black III

FACECLAIM.

Joe Keery is my first choice. Devon Bostick second!

PRONOUNS AND GENDER.

Sirius is a cisgender male, and he uses the he/him pronouns!

MOTIVATION.

Well, to start, I’ve never played a Marauder before. Out of all of the Marauders, I’ve always had a big fondness towards Sirius. In particular, I’m extremely interested in the idea of his family dynamics. Specifically with this roleplay, Sirius is younger than his cousins, and only just barely older than Regulus. As someone with a lot of family myself, I think there’s a lot of potential in exploring what he felt his role in his family to be, as well as exploring the causes - big and small - of why he chose to leave. I also really love the relationship that he has with James. Sirius genuinely believes that James Potter is his soulmate. It’s why he’s so happy to see James with Lily, because he really does believe it’s what’s best for him. There’s also exploring the bad side of Sirius. The side that can be a bully, and the side of him that is reckless to a fault. I’d love to see him slip up, and realize that his actions have consequences. Over all, I’m just super excited over everything about him.

ANY CHANGES.

No, I love him!!!!!!

section two / about.

BIRTHDATE.

November 3rd, 1959. Scorpio Sun, Sagittarius Moon, Sagittarius Rising

SEXUALITY.

Bisexual, Biromantic! He’s an equally opportunity sort of bloke. I don’t think he’s ever really given this much particular thought. I’ve always envisioned that while he enjoyed the attention he received, Sirius doesn’t seek out too much romantic gratification. In school, it was because he was too involved with his friends. Out of school, he just doesn’t have the time. The war is the most important thing on his mind, and any romantic or sexual relationships would always come after that.

PERSONALITY.

Fun-loving

Motorcycles, pranks, romps at the Great Lake, the sounds of his friends laughing. So much of his childhood lacked in joy, in childlike play. It wasn’t until Hogwarts that he could finally laugh to his heart’s content, and laugh he did. Meeting his friends changed his life, because they showed him a side of life he had never seen before. That love for excitement, for pure genuine fun has never faded away from his heart. Even as a wizard grown, he still has a child’s mischief.

Confident

When the Sorting Hat put him into Gryffindor, he was fearless in his letter home. Sirius Black believes in the power of himself, and he does not second guess. He is solid in his opinion of his skills, his morals, and his downfalls. His confidence is one of his most shining characteristics. Nobody could deny the easy charisma he possessed, the willingness to put himself out there when others might not.

Bold

Gryffindor through and through, Sirius shines in a situation requiring brash action and quick thinking. He’ll be the first to volunteer for a mission, and the last to give up from a fight. He hates the way that the world works, and he wants to lead the change to fix it. He has no problem looking his parents in the eye, and he isn’t afraid to challenge his brother, and his cousins on their beliefs. Sirius doesn’t shy away from what he wants to do.

Reckless

Though he desperately wants to be known as a protector, someone to be relied on, he fails far too often at this. He’s been known to deviate from the plan, to change course all together, without regard for his team. He’s careless without cause, speaking and doing before thinking. He doesn’t mean to, and it’s something he is trying to fix about himself every day, but he has a long path before him.

Arrogant

Confident to a fault, Sirius can sometimes toe the line of just being a little too much. He thinks grand things of himself, and he likes to show that off to others. As much as he is loathe to admit it, or even realize it, he has some of the arrogance trademarked to the Black family. He’s always been different from the rest of them, so his particular brand of egotism was an entirely unique flavor, but it was egotism nonetheless.

Extreme

It could never be said that Sirius Black did not give his all. Whether he was trying to prove a point to his parents, or to ruin Snivellus’ day, or simply to just love his friends, he did it all to an extreme. Sometimes, this comes in handy, such as when he finds himself in a particularly sticky fight. Most of the time, though, it results in consequences that he would have rather not dealt with.

PLOT POINTS.

PAST. Before he was Sirius Black, infamous Gryffindor, blood-traitor, and brother to James Potter, he was Sirius Black, firstborn son and heir to the prestigious House of Black. He was born into the lap of privilege and luxury, destined to one day take charge of Wizarding Britain’s most Noble of families. Despite what he would grow up to be, Sirius was not always a beacon of blood-purity, fighting for justice. How could he have been? He was the beloved eldest son of Orion and Walburga Black. Intelligent, witty, and charismatic to boot. He was strong-willed, a trait his parents thought important for a boy of his station. At least, they thought so until he was too stubborn to be controlled, even by them. He was everything they wanted in a son and more. Sirius was showered in attention. From expensive tutoring, to shadowing meetings with his father and uncle at work, being forced to attend every minor event that his parents thought important he attend. He used to like it, when he a was a very young boy. When he was rosy-cheeked and gap-toothed, running ahead and then slowing down so Regulus could catch up. One day he grew up, and he didn’t like it so much anymore. No matter how much he might complain, his parents did not relent. He was Sirius Black, the third of his name, and they expected him to act like it. When their obdurate, unyielding, opinionated son rose up against him, they were woefully unequipped to handle what that meant. Thus began his gradual descent.

The combativeness he was beginning to foster inside of him did not sit well with his family. His parents, his aunt and his uncle, his eldest cousin… they thought him shameful and unruly. Perhaps he was, but he wasn’t ashamed it. Sirius wasn’t ashamed of anything. It didn’t take long for relationships to sour between him and his family. He hadn’t even made it to school yet and he was already making waves. By the time he did find himself sitting down on the Hogwarts Express for the first time, Sirius was well on his way to separating from his family. Only now, he would finally start doing it for the right reasons. James, Remus, and Peter were his friends, but they quickly became more than that. They were his brothers, the root of his goodness. They took his energy, impulsivity, and proclivity for antagonistic immaturity and turned it into strong, righteous, fierce beliefs about what it meant to be a good wizard. The good in them reflected onto him, protecting him from the weight of his last name. He wasn’t perfect, and he faltered more than he would care to admit. Maybe he always would. But his brothers were always there to pull him back into the light, to remind him that he was more Sirius than he was Black. Years of love, acceptance, and family like he had never known molded Sirius into someone good, someone who wanted to put a stop to the evil in his world. He missed his brother, but that was about the only he missed about the old days. He wanted to walk into the future with his arms wide open.

At age sixteen, it was almost too easy for Sirius to pack his bags and leave his home. He had gotten good at turning the other way, ignoring the looks Regulus sent his way. He hated to leave him, but he had left this house a long time ago, metaphorically speaking. Even the love for his little brother could not make him stay. The Black family had never shown him compassion and understanding, only criticism and heavy, heavy expectation. And with Mr. and Mrs. Potter welcoming him with open arms and warm smiles into their home, Sirius happily walked in with a smile on his face.

PRESENT. For two years, Sirius Black lived by the grace and goodness of James Potter’s mother and father. He’d never had so little money to spend. The Potter’s were more than well off themselves, but he hated having to ask them for money to buy his school books, clothes, and food to eat. His saving grace finally came in the form of Uncle Alphard, who so generously a large inheritance upon his passing. From what he’d heard, it had gotten him blasted off of the tree. Sirius didn’t care about that. Who cared about that bloody tree, anyways? With money to his name, and a certificate stating that he had finished at Hogwarts, Sirius found a place of his own. What a rush that had been, having something be completely his. For a short while, he had enjoyed himself at home. But then the boredom came, and he began to labor over his next step. What did he want to do with his life? It didn’t take very long for him to come a conclusion. He wanted to fight. That’s what he had done his entire life, fight. And with things beginning to change the way they were, it looked like the world needed some warriors out there. If enough people didn’t fight back, darkness would win over the light. Sirius was there to prevent that. He wanted it to be said that he was on the right side. If he had his way, his family would lose the prestige, power, and superiority that they had flaunted for generations. Sirius believed in The Order of the Phoenix, and he believed in the love he felt for his friends. He believed them in them both, enough to die for it.

Being a member of a vigilante group was great and all, but Sirius was only nineteen years old, and more often than not, he had a lot of downtime. It was only natural that he get a day job, something to occupy his time with as well as potentially provide use to his cause. Becoming an auror was the natural decision. It was lucky that he had managed to pull the grades off that were needed to get into the program. But, with a combination of innate cleverness mixed with Remus’ nagging to get his homework, he managed to get in by the skin of his teeth. It was grueling work, but that was what they needed to prepare for what was coming. It was hard not to get so wrapped up in the war, and the people fighting and dying. It was hard not to spend his entire day wondering when they would strike next and what would he could do to help. If he weren’t so good at having fun, people might have called him obsessive, but no one doubted his ability to let loose. Working or not, most nights he comes home to his flat dead on his feet. And yet, he was feeling more alive than he ever had before. How could they lose this war when he was putting so much of himself into it? He had always been confident, there was no doubting that. If only conviction could win a war.

FUTURE. The future is bleak for Sirius Black, and nothing was ever going to change that. As long as there was evil in the world, and people dying because of it, he would always be putting himself in the line of fire. He’s been reckless his entire life, and though the war may go many different ways, the same can not be said for his fate. I can’t say for sure whether or not Sirius will end up in Azkaban. It’s certainly possible. It’s also just as likely that he’ll end up dead. He’ll never abandon his convictions, not even if it costs him his last breath.

As the future grows more dark, and more bleak, so will he. It will be hard on him to see his friends and loved ones beginning to fall around him. He used to be so sure that they would win this war. Such a typical thought for a boy of his youth, believing anything can happen if he wants it badly enough. He will come to learn that there will be lots of things that he is going to want, and lots of things that he is not going to get. It’s going to wear him down, bit by bit. I believe paranoia awaits Sirius in the far future, especially once he realizes that James and Lily are in very specific danger themselves. In canon, it states that he grows to distrust Remus and I think that will be the case here. Suspicion will set it on, warping his thoughts about everyone he knows and loves. Except James, of course. Never James. He’s so worried about protecting the person he loves most that it begins to change him in ways he never could have seen coming. When the inevitable breaking point comes, he isn’t going to be able to recognize himself anymore. Whatever may come, it is quite likely that Sirius Black won make it out in one piece.

WRITING SAMPLE.

Sirius would never have called himself very close to his Uncle Alphard. He was a quiet type of fellow, often covered by the shadows of his more intimidating brother and sister. They didn’t often see each other, except for Christmas and family birthdays, and even then it wasn’t like they were wrapped in conversation. Uncle Alphard liked to play chess in the study, preferring the quiet concentration to uncomfortable interaction. Sirius didn’t like playing chess, most especially at that age, so he never really went back there. When he was a young teenager, loud and fierce in his dislike of his family, Uncle Alphard seemed to shrink away from it all, like Sirius and his wild ways might rub off on him and bring down the family wrath. At least, that was what Sirius believed anyways.

Truly, he would not have considered himself close to Uncle Alphard.

And yet, close or not, there was the letter in front of him. In plain letters, printed clear as day, bearing his own name on the top. It was from the Ministry, informing him of his uncle’s passing and subsequent release of inheritance left for Sirius. When he left his mother and father’s home, he had been disowned, losing everything he was set to receive upon his coming of age. Fine by him, he had yelled at his mother, while grabbing his things to leave. He didn’t want their opinions, and he certainly didn’t want their money. Not when it came with so many damn strings attached.

A smile curved at the edges of his lips, and he reached forward to run his pointer finger along the corner of the paper. He wondered if his mother had realized what her brother had done. The old bat would likely pitch a stroke once she found out. He almost wished that he could see it for himself. Almost, but not quite.

It was quite a lot of money. Not more than he’d ever seen, but more than he thought he would have access to after giving up his birthright. He could live quite comfortably on this, if he so chose. He ran his tongue over his lips, glancing to the clock on his right. It was still dark outside— James was likely asleep upstairs, his parents too. It wasn’t like Sirius to be up so early, but he had such a hard time sleeping the night before. It was hard to get that letter off of his mind. Why had Uncle Alphard decided to leave him so much money? Surely he knew what it would mean?

He would be blasted off of the tree, his name shamed for generations to come. The same one that used to hold Andromeda, and himself. Why wait until after death to make a stand, to join the family outcasts? What had Uncle Alphard seen in Sirius? He ran his eyes over the number. He must have seen something he liked. There were just so many zeros.

His eyes darted towards the kitchen door, and he forced himself up from his seat. He wanted to wake James, to share the good news. He wasn’t poor, not anymore! He wouldn’t have to rely on the Potter’s kindness any longer. A smile spread across his face. The issue of Uncle Alphard’s death was something he still had to think about for a bit longer. It still didn’t quite add up. But for now, he just wanted to celebrate what was, effectively, a stark return to his previously affluent lifestyle. He didn’t like his family, but receiving money they didn’t want him to have sure didn’t hurt.

He crept up the stairs, looking for James. He was asleep in his bedroom, across the hall from the room Sirius now occupied. It was getting on in the morning, and he likely didn’t need to concern himself with being too quiet. The house would likely wake up entirely soon enough. His creeping did little to slow the morning, but creep nonetheless he did.

It was the little things like this that Sirius tried to do for the Potters. Be quiet when he could, put away that dish so that nobody else needed to, and always help Mrs. Potter if she was levitating in the groceries. It  couldn’t make up for what they were doing for him, but he felt a fierce need to try. James and his parents had taken Sirius in like it was the easiest thing they had ever done, and he would always be grateful.

Not waking them up before they were ready was the least he could do.

Rounding the corner, his eyes followed along the photos on the wall. There weren’t many pictures that weren’t of James, but if anything, that seemed to warm his heart even more. There was so much love in this house, he almost couldn’t believe it. He slowed to a halt, fingers outstretching to fix a certain photo hanging at a wrong angle. The money in the letter downstairs was on his mind again. He felt like he should do something important with it, something for the family that had done so much for him.

Moving out was certainly on the agenda, but that didn’t feel personal, nor very grateful. Maybe James would have ideas? He continued moving. Perhaps he ought to ask Lily instead, or Remus? He brainstormed quietly to himself, eyes set on the closed, white door at the end of the hall. There were so many things he could do with that money. Things for himself, for his loved ones, for the cause he so fiercely believed in. As he slowed to a halt, he thought about what he might get first.

He knocked quietly, pushing the door open just a crack.

“Prongs— you awake?” He whispered, stepping further into the room. “If you’re not, then get up. I’ve got something to show you.”

Noise sounded from in the darkness, signalling that James was awake and stirring. Sirius took that as invitation to step completely inside of the room.

He shut the door behind him, sending an impish grin at James. “I think I might buy a motorcycle today. What do you think? Reckon I could make it fly?”

section three / other.