#azkaban

vs.

Turns out spending 12 years in Azkaban and sleeping in a cave does not do wonders for your hair...

The boy with the long hair and the coiling black tattoos. The boy full of grief and loss and guilt. The boy who blamed himself for a crime he didn’t commit.

And the boy with the faded green hair and the silver lip ring. The boy full of rage and anger and regret. The boy who lost everyone that mattered.

The boys who used to have the most charm and the widest grins now barely smiled at all.

The boys torn away from the corpses of their loved ones.

The boys who never got to say goodbye.

You see, these boys who sat in the corners of their cells, shaking, rocking back and fourth, or just laying there. These boys should have grown up by now, should’ve lived their lives, but they were taken before they had the chance.

To most, these boys would seem unfixable, most would think they were doomed to an early grave. But these boys didn’t give up that easily, they wouldn’t let themselves stay ruined.

In the middle of the ocean, in the heart of Azkaban, sat two neighboring cells, with two broken boys. But they were going to survive, because they were brave and ambitious and oh so angry.

Angry they got locked up, angry they never got to grow up, but mostly angry for all the people taken from them. Their best friends, brothers, the love of their life. Gone.

But all those deaths were the exact reason they were going to survive.

For James, and Lily, and Evan, and Pandora, and Dorcas, and Marlene, and most of all Regulus.

Up came the hands

And Reggie took the wave.

In came my Lord

And ordered all the hands

And the itsy bitsy Reggie never again reached sands

Sirius and Barty: AAAAAASHUTTHEFUCKUPPP