Look What they've done to my soul

Hello! My name is Mel. My main blog is @melbellelove.

I mostly write Jily/Marauder era fics but I dabble in most eras of Harry Potter. My favorite characters are Harry, Neville, Remus, and Sirius. I also sometimes make moodboards, write meta, and promote the House Elf Hotties initiative

You can find all my fics here or check out selected highlights under the cut.

"I must've missed something," he muttered. "There's no way that's right."

"What does it smell like?" Sirius asked from the next cauldron.

James grimaced.

"Like cursed pond water."

Sirius clicked his tongue thoughtfully.

"Hm. Perhaps your soulmate's a mermaid."

James snorted.

"Shut up, Padfoot. What does yours smell like?"

Sirius leaned over his own cauldron, inhaled deeply, and smiled to himself.

"Leather-bound books. A roaring fireplace. Eggnog."

James stared at him.

"No, it doesn't."

"It does."

"No, your potion smells just as foul as mine."

"It really doesn't."

Thank you!! I'm so happy you asked me to talk about Sirius!

A habit you love to to give a character

One little habit I always give Sirius is that he's constantly playing with something. It's usually his wand, a quill, a pocketknife, a coin, anything he can twirl casually through his fingers or spin across his knuckles.

On the surface, it reinforces his nonchalant attitude. He looks like he'd rather be anywhere else, as though he isn't paying much attention to what's happening around him.

In reality, it's the opposite.

Sirius is the most observant person in the room. He's always watching people, reading body language, noticing shifts in tone, and picking up on conversations that everyone else misses. The fidgeting isn't a sign that he's distracted; it's what occupies the restless part of his brain so he can focus on everything else.

I also gave him the habit of sitting where he's not supposed to. He'll claim James's desk chair, perch on the edge of someone's desk, lean against a table meant for paperwork, or otherwise occupy spaces that technically belong to someone else.

I think Sirius entertains himself by turning social interactions into little experiments. He pokes at people's boundaries, not necessarily because he wants to upset them, but because their responses are interesting. It's his way of gathering information while amusing himself at the same time.

a scent you associate with this character

Sirius smells of leather, old books, and motor oil.

I've always imagined his scent as something reminiscent of stepping into a Victorian gentlemen's club: worn leather armchairs, polished wood paneling, grand fireplaces, the lingering traces of cigar smoke soaked into the walls, and whiskey poured into heavy crystal tumblers. It's warm, expensive, and unmistakably old money.

But there's always something beneath that polish.

He smells rich and impeccably clean, like someone who was raised among privilege and inherited generations of refinement. Yet there's an undercurrent of the outside world—a little grease, a little smoke, a little wind—that suggests he never quite belonged in those drawing rooms.

He smells like someone who could spend the evening in the parlors of Britain's most influential families, lounging in leather chairs beneath family portraits, but would rather slip out the back door to find a pub, a garage, or take flight with a motorcycle.

a piece from canon you love to ignore

That Sirius died, or that Sirius didn't get to raise Harry like Lily and James wanted.

2) a mannerism that you accidentally slipped in and now you are stuck to

I don't know if I have a good answer for this question. Maybe I include a mannerism accidentally and I haven't become aware of it yet.

6) a mode of transportation that has a lot of potential

One of the things I like about Goblet of Fire is how it expands the wizarding world. Before then, magical transportation mostly consisted of the Hogwarts Express and Mr. Weasley's enchanted Ford Anglia. But Goblet of Fire introduces enchanted ships, flying carriages, and Portkeys. making the magical world feel much larger and more diverse.

I also really like how @artemisia-black uses an enchanted carriage for the Black family to travel to Italy. It inspired me to think, not necessarily of a specific mode of magical transportation but of how we can use transportation to signal class and pure-blood politics.

I like the idea that the wizarding world has an unspoken historical cutoff when it comes to adopting Muggle inventions. The older and more established a piece of technology is, the more acceptable it becomes to enchant and integrate into magical life. Steam trains, sailing ships, horse-drawn carriages, and bicycles have existed long enough to feel almost timeless, so they're viewed as suitable foundations for magical adaptation.

Modern inventions, on the other hand, remain distinctly "Muggle" in the eyes of many witches and wizards. Cars, airplanes, televisions, computers, and phones are often dismissed, not because they couldn't be enchanted, but because wizarding society has been slow to embrace them.

This helps explain why the wizarding world still relies on radios, parchment, quills, and steam trains decades after Muggles have moved on. It's not simply technological backwardness; it's cultural conservatism. Wizarding society tends to preserve traditions rather than replace them.

I think this could also create an interesting generational and political divide.

Younger witches and wizards—or those raised by Muggles—might see no reason an enchanted electric car, high-speed train, or even a magically modified laptop couldn't exist.

Older pure-blood families, meanwhile, would cling to traditional forms of transportation because they see them as inherently more "wizarding." They'd happily travel by enchanted carriage or private magical railway while dismissing enchanted automobiles as vulgar Muggle imports.

The irony, of course, is that the distinction is largely imaginary. A steam locomotive is just as much a Muggle invention as a car. A horse-drawn carriage originated in the non-magical world just as surely as an automobile did.

Societies often convince themselves that older customs are part of their own identity while treating newer influences as foreign, even when both come from the same source. In that sense, the preference for enchanted carriages over enchanted cars isn't really about transportation at all. It's about identity, and the stories people tell themselves about what makes their culture unique.

7) a coping mechanism (pick a character that uses it)

I think a lot of my characters rely on humor, and because these are JKR's characters, the humor sometimes borders on cruelty as a way to deflect from uncomfortable emotions or stressful situations. It's easier to make a cutting joke than admit you're scared, hurt, or overwhelmed.

In my Jily Lives AU, James especially falls into this pattern. He's avoidant (though not to the same extent as Remus, obviously). James has built so much of his identity around being the leader, the dependable one, the person everyone else leans on. He wants to be the one solving problems, protecting people, and holding the group together.

What he's much less comfortable with is letting other people do those things for him.

He hates feeling vulnerable. He hates looking like he doesn't have everything under control. So when he's emotionally cornered, he often regresses into some of his younger habits. A sharp or mean-spirited joke slips out before he can stop it. He becomes impulsive, overconfident, or reckless, convincing himself that action is better than sitting with emotions he'd rather not acknowledge.

It's not that James lacks emotional intelligence; he's actually quite perceptive when it comes to other people, as we see him befriend and take care of a werewolf and provide shelter to a runaway friend. The problem is that he struggles to apply that same understanding to himself. He's happy to shoulder everyone else's burdens but deeply uncomfortable admitting that he needs help with his own.

Sirius and Lily recognize these patterns because they've seen them before, and neither of them is willing to let him hide behind charm or bravado forever. Lily is often the first to call him out when his humor crosses into cruelty or self-destruction, while Sirius has a way of cutting through the performance entirely. Together, they remind James that being a leader doesn't mean carrying everything alone, and that asking for support isn't a sign of weakness.

4) Jewelry

Jewelry is one of those details that can communicate a surprising amount about a character, just like clothing or any other aspect of personal style. I tend to overlook it because I don't wear much jewelry myself, so it doesn't naturally occur to me when I'm writing. But in a magical world, it's a fantastic opportunity to emphasize how wizarding fashion differs from Muggle fashion.

You can imagine witches and wizards wearing stacks of bracelets, layered necklaces, signet rings, enchanted brooches, jeweled hairpins, cufflinks, or earrings with magical properties. Jewelry could be decorative, practical, protective, or symbolic. A ring might function as a family heirloom, a protective charm, or even a portable magical tool. It's an easy way to hint at wealth, family history, occupation, or personality without explicitly telling the reader.

It's probably a detail I could get better at including in my own writing, because I think it's an understated but effective way to establish both class and character.

For Sirius, I imagine his taste would be understated but unmistakably expensive. Nothing flashy or ostentatious—just a few carefully chosen pieces. Perhaps a simple platinum ring, a thin gold chain tucked beneath his shirt, and a beautifully crafted watch. At first glance, none of it would attract much attention, but anyone familiar with fine craftsmanship would immediately recognize that every piece is of exceptional quality.

I also like the idea that Fleamont actually made James's watch himself. Perhaps each generation crafts one by hand, enchanting it with protective charms or other useful magic before passing it on.

8) a small headcanon that stuck

I like the idea that Hogwarts isn't the only magical school in Britain. It's simply the oldest, the most prestigious, and the one funded by the Ministry of Magic. Because of that, it dominates the public imagination in much the same way Oxford or Eton does in the Muggle world. It has the strongest reputation, the largest alumni network, and perhaps it's the only school legally required to accept every magical child, including Muggle-borns.

The existence of a Department of Magical Education suggests that the Ministry oversees far more than just Hogwarts. I imagine it regulates homeschooling, certifies tutors, and accredits a variety of smaller magical schools throughout Britain.

Not every magical child would attend a large boarding school. Some might go to local day schools. Others might study in tiny academies that only take a handful of pupils at a time. I love the image of a centuries-old witch teaching three apprentices from her cottage, passing down knowledge through the traditional master-and-apprentice model. Another school might be housed in a converted abbey specializing in healing magic, while one tucked among ancient stone circles focuses on druidic traditions and ritual magic that Hogwarts barely touches.

These schools could also provide specialized education that Hogwarts doesn't. Students with a genuine gift for Divination might transfer to a school that trains seers from an early age. Others interested in alchemy, magical craftsmanship, rune carving, magical architecture, or creature husbandry might receive far more in-depth instruction than Hogwarts' broad general curriculum can offer.

Hogwarts, in my mind, is designed to educate the future elite of wizarding Britain. It produces Ministry officials, politicians, Aurors, academics, entrepreneurs, Quidditch stars, and the owners of successful magical businesses. But a society can't function on prestigious careers alone. Someone has to grow magical crops, maintain Floo Network fireplaces, repair enchanted buildings, breed owls and hippogriffs, manufacture cauldrons, run magical transportation, manage greenhouses, and keep villages functioning.

Those community schools produce the skilled workers, artisans, tradespeople, and specialists who make everyday magical life possible. Their graduates may never become famous, but they're just as essential to wizarding society.

Essentially, my headcanon is that the wizarding world is much bigger than the slice we see through Harry's eyes. The Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts dominate the books because they're the institutions Harry interacts with, not because they're the entirety of magical Britain.

24) a character you've wanted to talk about

Justin Finch-Fletchley has always fascinated me, even though I haven't written about him yet. He is a dichotomy of inherited status, aristocratic in one world and discriminated in another.

Before learning he was a wizard, Justin was bound for Eton. He wasn't simply wealthy, he was part of one of the most privileged social classes in Britain. Had he remained in the Muggle world, he would have attended school alongside princes.

Then, overnight, everything changes.

Imagine discovering that magic is real. You're invited into a hidden world that almost no one knows exists. You get the extraordinary opportunity to learn magic, fly broomsticks, and become part of a centuries-old society.

Only to discover that, within this new world, you're a member of a group that many people look down on.

In the Muggle world, Justin's family name, education, and connections would have opened almost every door. At Hogwarts, none of that matters. Instead, he's "Muggle-born," a label that immediately places him near the bottom of a social hierarchy he never knew existed. It must have been an enormous upheaval to his sense of identity.

He's attacked by the Basilisk and spends months petrified, unconscious while life goes on around him. He loses a significant portion of his education and misses a significant chunk of time.

Despite that, he comes back.

He joins Dumbledore's Army. He sides with Harry and Dumbledore when doing so becomes increasingly dangerous. He's loyal, courageous, and then the Second Wizarding War forces him into hiding simply because he was born.

I've always wondered what happens to him afterward.

If Justin survives the war, does he build a life in the magical world despite everything it put him through? Does he feel that Hogwarts and the wizarding community are still his home, even after experiencing violence and persecution?

Or does he return to the Muggle world, where his family's status and opportunities are waiting for him? Does Eton become the path not taken that he eventually circles back to in some form?