#snufflesmajor

Concerned best friends who I literally would not function without them in my life 💕 @snufflesmajor @chaser-not-a-seeker

༺🌕༻ Work-worn fingers carted through the other’s damp hair, dragging up great wefts of it from root to tip, measuring meticulously before a soft snip of scissors sent curls drifting to the floor. He repeated time and time again, combing, measuring, cutting, waiting for the memories locked away inside his flesh to trigger — to run his hands through those tresses and have them end precisely when they ought to, and not a moment sooner or later.

  The rain came down in great sheets outside the small cottage, dribbling in from a hole in the roof with melodic drips and splish-splashes, caught by a rusty old pan sitting on the floor that might have held a meager porridge before being quickly repurposed. The evening had been quiet, pregnant with all the things left unsaid begging to be let free, but remaining firmly bottlenecked in their throats until the inevitable mass exodus. 

  Remus had seen the look on Sirius’ face when he’d crossed the threshold into the derelict housing the younger male had been relegated to in absence of friends and supporters, that bitter disbelief over what had become of them — once a family as close and well-provided for as one could hope, now barely more than the ghost of rotting ideals eroded by harsh reality. Sirius had finally given voice to that sentiment, that this wasn’t what was meant for them, the way things should be, and Remus found himself admonishing him before he’d even realized the words coming out of his mouth.

  When had he learned to just roll over and accept the consequences of life? Somewhere around the time he’d lost all semblance of control over it, he supposed.

                                                      James. 

  Sirius didn’t have to finish. James was the missing link, the elephant in the room, the semicolon to every sentence they spoke — all the parts of themselves that felt like they were missing, and the parts they desperately sought after to fill the painful void Peter had left inside them in addition. It was clear that even after all this time he was so desperately missed that they sought him in one another, if even in the smallest ways, grasping at threads of his memory like hairs left behind on sweaters. 

  It was true — when James had died, Remus found himself struggling to hold on to his influence or risk free-falling into nothingness. Free-falling into a world that would have him believe that Sirius Black could assist in the murder of two of the most important people in their lives, along with countless others. He didn’t want to believe, refused to take things at true face-value, begging for James’ guidance even from beyond the grave: ‘what would you do? Who would you believe?’ He’d had James in his head for so long it was no wonder he was beginning to sound like him. Perhaps the sole reason he’d been able to accept Sirius’ innocence without question; he’d know it deep down all along.

  But when Sirius amended his statement Remus chuckled breathily, shaking his head and snipping a few more inches from the weft between his fingers.

  “When the magic wore off,” he stated simply as if the answer had been an obvious one. “When you left, when James and Lily died — Peter as well, we’d thought— time resumed.” It had been the lowest point in his life, if he was being honest. Lower even than losing his mother, because even then he’d had the Marauder’s to turn to in his grief. 

it's honestly a pity things were so...... strained.... between remus and snape bc i would kill for them having a bitchy convo about this over tea

// I feel exactly the same way. This is an AU that I need.

meme . hc

    honestly i think it wouldn’t really have mattered what lily would have told him. what really hit him was actually meeting them. since hearing about it wasn’t the same. it was different hearing an hatred being exactly like of muggles in the wizarding community.  he actually found it extremely ironic to the point it was kinda funny to him.

       although in the back of his mind, james also found a part within himself which he was deeply ashamed.  meeting them he understood his own kind more. he understood why the wizaridng world didn’t like muggles. it reminded him of the of tens thousand of people who had been burn at the stakes....even those who hadn’t been wizard/witches.

     Oh, he was dead.  Sirius Black was, without a doubt, one-hundred percent dead.

     The last thing Doe remembered before the thought of Sirius’ demise chorused through her mind was cheerfully opening her history book at one of the tables in the library.  She had gone there to find herself a little peace and quiet, away from all the childish noise and stupid little games that seemed to ever plague the common room.  Exams weren’t that far off and if she was going to do well on them, she needed to brush up in her less than stellar subjects, which was impossible when James Potter and his friends (mostly Sirius--ninety-two percent Sirius) wouldn’t stop bothering everyone who would listen.  

    That was when everything went wrong.     A round of snickers and giggles rose up from somewhere behind her, drawing her attention before she even focus on the first few sentences.  Probably a bunch of first years looking up naughty words or something, she thought.  There were a lot of old books with a lot of ridiculous things inside that tickled first years for some reason.  Seventh years, oddly, as well.  But that didn’t matter; she had to focus, and if she was going to focus she needed--

    --’Silence.  Stifling, suffocating, but not everlasting.  The racing of my heart breaks through, shattering the stillness--’

     Thump!

     Several students paused in what they were doing, glancing up abruptly as Dorcas slammed her book shut with all the strength she seemed to possess.  Madam Pince swept down from wherever she had perched herself, but Doe barely heard a word she had to say, too focused was she on seeking out the culprit who dared read aloud something so private.  

     Five minutes was all it took.  The fourth year Gryffindor who had found the poem had been all too eager to give up his source, claiming that Sirius Black had been the one reading the bit of parchment to begin with.  And if Black had been reading it, Dorcas really couldn’t get angry at any one else; even if they had chosen to perform a terribly dramatic reading for all of their closest friends.  Fortunately, Doe was too focused on attacking the root of the problem to care about her underclassmens’ misdeeds and stormed out of the library, poem clutched desperately in one hand, and her wand in the other.

     When the haze cleared once again, Dorcas found herself standing in front of a stunned Sirius, her hands absolutely shaking with rage and humiliation.  Some part of her was amazed he was even standing, but she realized quickly enough she had only cast the first spell that came to mind.  Black was lucky he still had his hair, but the night was still young.  She might end up feeling a bit...creative.

     “My diary?!” she shouted, holding up the crumpled parchment so that Sirius could see it.  “Is that what you’re doing now. stealing peoples’ private property?  I suppose you had a great laugh over it all, didn’t you?!”