#I honestly haven’t read the books in years I just think escaped prisoner Sirius is hot 🤷‍♀️ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cursedmoon-doll13 · 10 months

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Some Kind Of Stranger.

(Sirius x Reader)

Cw: Angst, Smut, Dub/Noncon. Afab reader. Prisoner (also falsely accused) reader and they are having a very bad time™️ Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Comfort Sex in a very uncomfortable place.

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Condemned to rot in Azkaban, you find yourself thrown into a cell already inhabited by a particularly infamous wizard. Perhaps you can stave off the torment together…

Dividers by @/saradika

Your life is forfeit.

Until now, the threat of death never seemed real. Not when you were seized by the officials and dragged before the ministry, not when those cold, sneering faces looked down upon you and sentenced you to a life in Azkaban for a crime you didn’t commit. It was a farce, a bad practical joke. It couldn’t be real.

Perhaps you were simply enduring some nightmare; this was only a dream, you’d soon find your coworker, Mildred, shaking you vigorously - wake up, you lazy git! Do you even know what bloody time it is? - And then, you’d wipe the crust from your eyes, pull on your Honeydukes apron and go back to peddling sugar to those titchy new Hogwarts kids, who shrink more and more each year.

No. It’s now that it feels real. Now, you're forced behind rusty iron bars, stranded in the middle of the ocean, trapped forever. All you can hear is the crying and moaning of the other prisoners, who sob and bay like animals. You’re still frozen in shock.

Then, the panic sets in. Sinking and emptying, like a vast hole has opened up in your stomach. But you can’t even scream anymore; it dies in your throat like a broken whistle. Instead you just cry, sliding down to the filthy floor in a pathetic heap. No matter how you plug your ears, the older inmates howl louder, joining in a cacophony that almost deafens you.

After a while, the din thankfully quiets down. Exhausted, you drift off into uneasy sleep for a few hours, until some damp chill startles you again. You feel numb and heavy. For the first time since you came here, you take in your surroundings, though there isn’t much: You’re boxed into a container of rock, packed like a product. In one shadowed corner, there’s a pulpy grey lump stuck to the wall like mould. You blink away the darkness and realise it is a vaguely human shape: one with filthy, matted hair.

He is a man; or the sordid remnants of one.

He’s wearing the same drab, striped clothing as you, though older and rattier and crusted with grime. For a moment, you’re convinced he’s dead. The idea of being locked in with a rotting corpse flashes horrifyingly through your mind. But then, he raises his gloomy head. He must be waking up, too.

“Hello?” You gently call out to him. Your voice echoes around the room. You scrape your knee on the floor as you crawl over, trying to see him better.

Almost immediately, you regret your decision.

This is a mistake. Oh, god, it has to be.

The prisoner sharing your cell is Sirius Black.

That Sirius Black.

Sirius Black, who once fired off a curse that killed twelve muggles before you. Sirius Black, whose gaunt and hollowed cheeks now recall the skeleton you first believed he was. Sirius Black, who’s gazing fixedly at you now, in awe, as if you’re an apparition.

“Hello,” he echoes back, and his voice is so gravelly that he sounds like he’s swallowed a bag full of glass. His eyes are wide and strangely bright.

“I…”

Your throat constricts.

The panic from earlier almost drove you into hysterics. Now, you’re just a deer in the headlights.

He rises, advancing towards you.

“You don’t look like one of them,” Black rasps. You follow his line of sight towards your empty forearm.

“N-no, I’m not a Death Eater!” You cry, and scramble quickly away. Still, you feel the urgent need to clamp a hand down there. It’s as if his gaze burns you.

“I’m Innocent! I didn’t do it, I swear, I… I… ”

But you’re choked up with tears again. Now the dam is breached, and you can’t staunch the flow. You were so sullen and distant before the actual judges, but as you’re confronted with death at the hands of a possible madman, you’re desperate to prove yourself. It’s all completely pointless, but you can’t help it. You felt it when you failed your N.E.W.T’s, too. The weight of inevitability; the realisation that a door had slammed permanently shut on your life.

You’re so beside yourself, you don’t register how close Black has gotten. Now, you can feel his warm breath tickling your ear, almost pleasantly. But then you flinch, as images of brute, bloody violence force themselves into your head. All you know of this man is that he’s a ruthless killer, that’s he’s…

“Not going to hurt you,” Black tells you. He’s backed you into a wedge in the stone, with nowhere else to turn to but him. You feel like a cornered animal.

“Don’t cry, now,” he says quietly. A bony, shaking knuckle comes to wipe the wetness from your cheek. “If you are Innocent, don’t you forget. It helps not to.”

Don’t Forget… Black’s words solidify in your mind. You swallow down a lump. The scrape on your knee is beginning to sting painfully. You realise it’s bleeding.

“Wouldn’t do to catch an infection here, eh?” He quips. Black clumps together the cleanest strip of cloth he has and dabs at your weeping knee.

You blink owlishly. It’s so starkly conversational, it sounds like it came from an entirely different man.

“Um… No. No.” You sniff and rub your eye; it smarts. “You’re right, It really wouldn’t do.” You glance sheepishly back up at his pale face.

“…Thankyou,” you sigh, and you mean it.

For a brief second, this encounter feels precious. Without realising it, you’ve relaxed so much tension in your tired body. Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation you’ve found yourself in hits you like a ton of bricks. How could you have ever imagined you’d be comforted by a convicted murderer? He’s bent forward, staring intently at you, as if he’s trying to read your thoughts. A little too intently.

Black’s tattered shirt gapes open like a wound, and your gaze dips instinctively downward, tracing black-inked, swirling tattoos. His bare chest is coated in a thin sheen of sweat. Black’s hand brushes momentarily against yours, and you hurry to pry your wandering eyes away.

It’s no use, though, because he’s rather caught on. You believe you half-fantasise the ghost of a cheeky smile, twitching beneath his rugged whiskers.

He would’ve been handsome, once. He still is.

“Tell me your name,” Black murmurs, and licks his cracked lips. “I want to know.”

You tell him. He nods faintly, and draws closer.

Black’s grey eyes are half-lidded. He’s leaning flush against you now, breathing huskily, almost clinging to you, like he can’t bear to be apart from your heat. Maybe you’ve already lost the plot - after barely a day here - but the anguished, far-away longing in his expression makes your heart pang.

Eleven years ago now, it must’ve been…

A shrill, unwelcome noise cuts through the silence. Outside, another inmate is shrieking.

Then, the nightmare truly begins: an eerie rattle dragging across the air, knife-sharp, closing in, as certain as death. You realise immediately that it is the Dementors - your prison guards- even without seeing them. You feel them, cold like a sheet of ice, crushing you, inescapable.

You shift, darting your eyes around your cell; you must think of something, anything else.

Your distraction comes in a rush of warmth, cocooning you in a grimy coat. Black has caged you into his arms, and will not budge.

“Stay here with me,” he breathes. His voice is raw and hoarse, pleading: “Just for one moment…”

He shudders violently, and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Black squeezes you so tightly, so desperately, you feel like you’re suffocating.

“Sirius,” you croak out a protest. “Wait, let me go.”

The sound of his own name jolts him out of his panic, but his grip on you remains unrelenting. Sirius turns a sharp glare on you that makes you shiver.

Before, his gaze was fond, almost gentle, but now there’s a hungry glint in his eyes. It reminds you of the starving, feral dogs that roam the outskirts of Hogsmeade, the ones that’d rip your throat out for a mere scrap of meat. No, he may not have tried to kill you, but that doesn’t mean you should’ve let your guard down. You’re powerless to stop him now.

“Don’t leave, don’t you dare leave me,” he’s chanting through dirty, gritted teeth.

“I’m not going to leave, Sirius,” you muster. “I’ll stay, I’ll stay here with you…” The words seem to pacify him a little, and he softens his touch once more. You see again the sad, forlorn expression, and pity floods your heart. He’s a hurt man. A lonely man…

Another frigid spike of mental agony is driven through you, and you squeeze your eyes shut. You no longer have the willpower to resist. He’s so warm, his body wrapped around you like a protective blanket. You can hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat underneath his striped shirt, pounding like a drum.

“Help…” He sounds so lost, feverish. “…Stave it off.”

You find yourself nodding, pressing yourself closer to him. He’s right. It hurts you, too, the Dementors’ presence. All you have now is each other. Sirius strokes a clammy hand over your tear-stained cheek, lifts your chin and kisses you. His lips taste salty and bitter, and your teeth clash together clumsily with the urgency of it. You rush to hook your arms around his neck, fingers raking across knots and tangles in his dark, unkempt hair.

Sirius groans heavily into your mouth, bucking his hips. He’s so malnourished you can feel the harsh angle of his pelvic bone jut against you. Something else, hard, twitches fervently over your thigh. He tightens his hold on you before you can react, grasping your thighs and grinding powerfully over your still clothed cunt. You whimper as his heat radiates into you. Sirius doesn’t stop, panting frantically. Maybe he can’t stop. He’s trapped you between himself and the cold, hard stone, and you start to crave friction and relief from him. Something you can focus on that isn’t discomfort or pain. But you’re completely at his mercy in this position, and can only rub your clit wantonly against the throbbing outline of his dick. A low, pleased grumble resounds in his throat, almost canine.

Sirius paws at the confines of your inmate’s rags, and without warning, he forcefully disrobes you. You gasp as a freezing gust of air pimples gooseflesh on your exposed skin, but he’s on you just as fast, You cling instinctively onto his jacket as he hoists you onto his waiting lap. He latches onto your throat with a greedy bite, sucking ravenous hickies down to your collarbone. Sirius rolls a hot tongue over your hardened nipple, and you tug again at his tangled locks as he grazes tantalisingly over it with his teeth.

His hands are everywhere, movements once well-practised, natural, stirred into a lustful frenzy. One comes to pinch at your other nipple, another is slipping past your stomach, down in between your thighs where you’re needy and slick. You can’t help the moan that escapes past your lips as the pad of his thumb circles over your sensitive clit.

For a small, blissful moment, you rock into his palm as he holds you, stifling your mewls into his shoulder as he massages the bundle of nerves there. Oh, fuck, you need him, as much as you need air to breathe. If you shut your eyes, you can almost pretend that you weren’t here; that you are joyful and unfettered, making love to a free man.

“Mm, Sirius!”

Sirius curls another long finger into your wet slit, and you could swear the glint in his eye is smugly satisfied. He pumps mercilessly into your pussy, not sparing your clit from his attention, and it isn’t long before you feel a thrill rippling up your spine; tight, warm pressure building in your abdomen.

But then he seems to grow antsy and impatient. You whine as he pulls his hand away, but he hushes you, pressing a consoling kiss to your temple. The lucid side to him, the one that still cares for your comfort, provides you with his coat to rest your head on. You lie down, shuddering as the frigid air assaults you again. You grab at his rags as he quickly undresses. He’s taking too long, too long…

Sirius drags down the waistband of his slacks and releases the straining hardness of his cock. It’s erect and veiny, leaking precum from an enraged tip.

He’s left you so soaked that he meets no resistance as he buries himself deep into your ready cunt. You groan as you adjust to the girth of him, stretching your gummy walls. Sirius grunts, clutching your thighs so tightly his nails leave indents on the tender flesh. Sweat is pouring down his forehead in rivulets, and you reach up to brush damp hair away from his haggard face. It occurs to you faintly that maybe after such deprivation, this much sensation is overwhelming him. That notion is swiftly dashed as he stutters his hips jerkily into yours, and you squeak out a moan as your nerves jolt with pleasure. You clamp your legs down over his waist, rocking back into him with all the force you can muster.

Sirius is picking up pace faster and faster; he’s had enough of being attentive. He braces you against the thin material of his coat and begins fucking you in earnest, and his rough, sloppy thrusts knock the breath clean out of you. The impact of skin on skin echoes around your cell, drowning out the screams of agony from outside. You arch into him, clawing meagrely onto his biceps for purchase as your shoulder blades burn across the ground.

Sirius growls and grips the back of your neck, lifting you up to pull you into a hungry kiss. His free hand slips down to ruthlessly tease your clit again, and the inescapable power of his body dumbs your senses. It’s a mercy: now all you can feel is him, all you can think of is… The taut razor wire in your belly is threatening to snap. You’re so close now, and it’s like he can taste it, muffling your cries with his tongue as he buckles down and pounds into you.

Then it all breaks, a flash of heat rippling through you like an electric shock. The force of your climax is so strong that you instinctively writhe away from him, but Sirius holds you firmly down and only fucks you harder as you come, rumbling with satisfaction as you spasm and clench uncontrollably around his dick. You can barely comprehend how his movements are faltering, growing increasingly messy and desperate…

Sirius groans hoarsely before he drags himself out of you. His cum splashes over your still twitching stomach in a thick, white rope. He slumps, shuddering out a jagged sigh. Your orgasm lathers over you until it tapers off into a pleasant buzz. For a while, all you can hear is your intermingling breaths, panting in sync. Now that he’s pulled out, you feel strangely hollow and empty inside.

Uncaring of your still sticky belly, Sirius heaves his sweaty body on top of you and smothers you like a blanket. You only wish he could clog your senses, too, so that this reality could fade away. Seeking sanctuary in his warmth, you press your eyes shut and resolve to fall asleep and dream of better days.

Your life is forfeit. Now you will exist without sun, without moon, without food or water. Someday you may forget your own name.

But you will have this. You will have this.

#was trying to write some fun sexy smut then it turns out quite angsty #but for me I think that’s just par for the course #I honestly haven’t read the books in years I just think escaped prisoner Sirius is hot 🤷‍♀️#the wiki is my friend #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black in azkaban #tw dubcon #afab reader #smut #angst #my writing

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years

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Written In The Stars LXV (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I’m soft and EXCITED cause we’re starting book four next week and you guys have no idea what’s coming -Danny

Words: 1,798

Warnings: None! Tooth rooting fluff

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Book IV

Chapter Twenty-Four: Good Omens.

Dumbledore left when Harry walked out of Lupin's former office, he stopped when he noticed Mel was outside.

"Oh," He said, "I thought you'd be with Ron and Hermione."

"I was talking to Dumbledore," She replied simply. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," He moved to where she was standing. "I talked to him too, when you left the office..."

"You did?"

"I was... I told him that I felt like our mission hadn't made a difference," He explained. "He told me I was wrong... sort of."

"Sort of?" She smiled.

Then Harry told her everything. Including the prophecy Trelawney had told him on their last day of exams. She had to admit, it sounded terrifying, but their teacher was known to be a bit dramatic. Still, the part about the dark lord rising... she didn't like that bit at all.

"What he said about the people that loves us never leaving..." Harry frowned, trying to put his thoughts in order. "They help us when we're in trouble, one way or another... I'm lucky to have you, Ron, and Hermione. Emily, and Sirius... they care and they'd help me if I needed them to... Not everyone is that lucky, though."

"I suppose so," Mel tilted her head, patiently waiting for the rest of whatever he was trying to say.

"Erick," It was the second time he'd mentioned the boy's name and it still sounded completely strange coming out of his mouth. "What you said about his family... he doesn't have many people helping him. I guess... I understand why'd he go out of his way to talk to you... You're brilliant and all..."

"Thanks?"

"What I mean," Harry pressed on, having a hard time expressing himself. "What I want to say is, I think you're a good friend and you're right– I shouldn't judge people without knowing their story first, that's what made me think Sirius was trying to kill me... I'm sorry I reacted that way, my interactions with the Slytherins haven't been nice, but I get that not everyone has to be the same. I trust you–"

Harry's speech was interrupted when Mel threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly (no kisses this time, though- She wasn't going to do the same mistake twice) and apologized profusely.

"I know... Mellow, I can't breathe!" He complained.

"Sorry!" She stepped back. "Sorry..."

"So... I'm your hero now, right?"

"What?" She frowned.

"You said that whoever made the dementors disappear the other night was your new hero, turns out it was me," He smirked.

"I was also there!" She exclaimed. "That was my Patronus too!"

"Well, you can't be your hero!"

"Says who?"

"It doesn't make sense!"

"I say it does. I'm my own hero," She teased. "For all I know, I saved your life this time."

"I've saved your life before," He pouted.

"Now you're just being pretentious..."

"I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast. I've decided to drop Muggle Studies," Hermione commented once they were settled on the train's compartment.

"But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty percent!"

"I know, but I can't stand another year like this one. That Time-Turner, it was driving me mad. I've handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I'll be able to have a normal schedule again. Besides, I asked Erick and he told me he'd be happy to tell me all about what he studies in class."

"I still can't believe you're friends with him," Ron rolled his eyes. "And I still can't believe you didn't tell us about the time-turner. We're supposed to be your friends."

"I promised I wouldn't tell anyone," said Hermione. "And you know how important it is to keep secrets when you're not the only one involved..."

She looked at Mel, who was looking at Harry, who was looking out the window with a sad expression.

"Oh, cheer up!" said Hermione.

"I'm okay," Harry jumped lightly. "Just thinking about the holidays."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about them too– Mel, Harry, you've got to come and stay with us. I'll fix it up with Mum and Dad, then I'll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now —"

"A telephone, Ron," said Hermione. "Honestly, you should take Muggle Studies next year..."

"Or ask us more about muggle life, like Erick does," Mel teased.

Ron ignored them.

"It's the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harry? Come and stay, and we'll go and see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work."

Harry did cheer up at that.

"Yeah, I bet the Dursleys'd be pleased to let me come... especially after what I did to Aunt Marge..."

"I'd love to see the World Cup!" Mel said excitedly. "I can picture it already, all the wizards from around the world..."

They wasted a whole hour playing and talking when Hermione pointed out to the landscape.

"Harry– What's that thing outside your window?"

It was the smallest owl Mel had ever seen. It dropped a letter onto Harry's seat and began zooming excitedly around the place. Hedwig clicked her beak while Grey and Crookshanks sat up, following the owl with their eyes. Ron caught the owl safely and threw a disapproving look their way.

"It's from Sirius!" Harry said happily.

"What? Read it aloud!"

'Dear Harry, I hope this finds you before you reach your aunt and uncle.

I don't know whether they're used to owl post. Buckbeak and I are in hiding. I won't tell you where, in case this owl falls into the wrong hands. I have some doubt about his reliability, but he is the best I could find, and he did seem eager for the job.

I believe the dementors are still searching for me, but they haven't a hope of finding me here. I am planning to allow some Muggles to glimpse me soon, a long way from Hogwarts, so that the security on the castle will be lifted.

There is something I never got around to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolt —

"Ha! See! I told you it was from him!"

"Yes, but he hadn't jinxed it, had he?– Ouch!"

'Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays' worth of presents from your godfather.

I would also like to apologize for the fright I think I gave you and Mel that night last year when you left your uncle's house. I had only hoped to get a glimpse of you before starting my journey north, but I think the sight of me alarmed you. I am enclosing something else for you, which I think will make your next year at Hogwarts more enjoyable. If ever you need me, send word. Your owl will find me.

I'll write again soon. Sirius

P.S. Mel, if Remus tells your mother what happened during the school year, will you please send her my regards? I miss her, I'm hoping I'll find a way to communicate with her soon.'

"I absolutely will," Mel smiled widely. "What else did he send, Glasses?"

Harry looked inside the envelope. She saw his eyes grow in surprise and then he was grinning, handing the small piece of parchment to her.

'I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, hereby give him permission to visit Hogsmeade on weekends.'

"That'll be good enough for Dumbledore!" said Harry. "Hang on, there's a second P.S."

'I thought your friend Ron might like to keep this owl, as it's my fault he no longer has a rat.'

Ron's eyes widened.

"Keep him?" he repeated.

He looked closely at the owl for a moment; then, he held him out for Crookshanks to sniff.

"What do'you reckon?" Ron asked. "Definitely an owl?"

Crookshanks purred.

"That's good enough for me," said Ron. "He's mine."

"You know," Mel said to the boy once they arrived at the station. "I'm really sorry you can't live with Sirius, but there's a good side!"

"Which is?"

"I'll still be your neighbor!"

"I thought you'd be happy," He teased. "Finally getting rid of me, a well-deserved break."

"I was happy because Sirius cares about you and you would've had a good life... besides, I get to see you in school, which is almost the whole year."

"Well," Harry put an arm around her shoulders. "We'll still have to stand each other for the years to come."

"I think I can live with that," She chuckled.

"I'll call about the World Cup!" Ron yelled after they parted.

Mel saw her mother standing a few feet away from the Dursleys and ran to meet her.

"Hello!" She said cheerfully. "Do you think we can stop by that place we like to get lunch? I'm– You know everything, don't you?"

Emily was looking down at her with such a severity that Mel prepared herself for the impact.

"Time-turners, dementors and sneaking out of the castle after curfew," Emily whispered angrily. "Helping a convict escape, attacking a Professor–"

"Snape had it coming!"

"Are you trying to drive me insane?" Emily hissed. "I swear, every time I get a letter I feel like I'm about to hear you murdered a teacher!"

"You're exagerating–"

"Watch me overreact all the way to our house, young lady!" She retorted.

"Very well," Mel sighed. "Can I tell you two things first?"

"What things?"

"I spent a whole year having a normal period -dreadful and gross, not reccomended– but that means I can take the potion now! Second, Padfoot says hi."

Emily's mouth opened and closed, her eyes never leaving her daughter's face.

"How do you–"

"Didn't they tell you the whole story?" Mel asked. "I'll have to do it myself, then..."

"What's that?" They heard Mr. Dursley spat at Harry while they walked past. "If it's another form for me to sign, you've got another —"

"It's not," Harry smiled brightly. "It's a letter from my godfather."

"Godfather? You haven't got a godfather!"

"Yes, I have– He was my mum and dad's best friend. He's a convicted murderer, but he's broken out of wizard prison and he's on the run. He likes to keep in touch with me, though. Keep up with my news... check if I'm happy..."

Mel and Emily shared a look and left quickly, holding back their laughter until they were safe inside their car. There, both of them laughed until their stomachs hurt.

"You know," Her mother said breathlessly. "Prongs would've been so proud of his son..."

"I know," Mel smiled, looking out her window and watching Harry's gleeful face as he walked out of the station with a terrified uncle following close. "We all are..."

Next Part —>

Taglist.

@tiphareth2018 @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @omiwashere @steve-thotgers @kylosleftbuttcheek @tomshollandz @thesuitelifeofafangirl @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #hermione granger #ron weasley #WITT fic

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

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Take me to your river

A/N: Okay. So this is my first time writing for this fandom and honestly I’m actually really worried about it. It’s a huge fandom so I hope its received well. Anyway, it has been ages since I’ve posted but I have been so busy its ridiculous, but I had this idea and I had to write. I know that the tenses are slightly mixed up through this, please bare with me, I’m overloaded right now.

Title: Leon Bridges - River

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Summary: (Set in the year of Prisoner of Azkaban, so I’m taking a guess at 1993/1994) You’ve left the wizarding world, barely had contact for over ten years. Then Sirius Black breaks out of Azkaban.

Requested: No.

Warnings: none, I don't think.

Word count: 2.5k.

It had been thirteen years.

Thirteen years since you had last seen the man you loved.

Twelve years since he was put away for a crime he didn’t commit. You knew that, you knew that deep down in your very being. That that day in the street, it was not Sirius who killed the muggles and Peter.

But you didn’t speak up. It would do no good. The Ministry of Magic had signed his death warrant – life in Azkaban until he died of insanity or the Dementor’s performed their kiss.

Sitting in your kitchen, the sunlight filters in through the window and you relish the slight warmth. It had been thirteen years since you had slept properly.

You and Sirius had been together through it all. He had asked you out on a Hogsmeade weekend, and you didn’t say no – how could you? You had been crushing on him since Third Year. He was your first for everything; first kiss, first relationship. Together, you had sat your O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.Ts. Sirius being your rock through the constant growing stress you put yourself under. (Looking back, you can’t help but chuckle, if your past-self had any idea of what your future would look like you would not have put in so much effort with your exams.) You had also been there for Sirius when he was disowned by his family and went to live with James and his family. James’ mother accepting you as one of her own as well. You two had danced together at James and Lily’s wedding, had waited anxiously for news of their baby and had cried when asked to be godparents of tiny Harry James Potter.

However, you were left alone to cry over their graves after that tragic night in Godric’s Hollow.

Shaking yourself awake, you take a long drink of your coffee and stretch your limbs, willing some life into them. The sun had completely risen now, and it was almost time to start your day. After what happened in 1981, you somewhat shunned all wizarding society, you left it not even a year later. Instead, isolating yourself to a tiny village in Yorkshire. People in Yorkshire kept themselves to themselves and your neighbours didn’t ask a lot of questions. The only one of the Marauders to visit was Remus, he didn’t visit often, but it was nice when he did.

One of your last remaining contacts with the wizarding world was your subscription to the Daily Prophetnewspaper. It was this subscription that brought you to your predicament. Slapped across the front page: Escape from Azkaban and there, in the centre, a picture of the man you thought you had an eternity with. Sirius Black.

Tears threaten to fall as you continue to stare at the moving picture. He’s screaming and screaming, and it physically hurts you to look at. But it’s the first time you’ve seen him in thirteen years. Any memories of Hogwarts and the Marauders were safely locked away in a trunk in your attic; waiting for a time when it doesn’t hurt so much to remember. You don’t think that that time will be coming soon, however, especially now with news of Black’s escape.

The article reported that out of protection, Azkaban’s guards the Dementors would be placed at Hogwarts. You had to take a minute when you read that little bit, James and Lily’s son would be at Hogwarts now, he would be entering his third year. You could only hope that the Dementors would not attach themselves to him. But you doubted it, he had already seen so much at such a young age. It would be likely that they would. You prayed he would be safe; Remus had contacted you over the summer to tell you that he had been appointed a teacher at Hogwarts – he didn’t have to tell you that he would look after Harry; it would be in his nature. Remus was more than his wolf.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of anymore thoughts of Black and his escape, if you stared at his mugshot any longer you felt as if you would go as insane as the new article was painting him to be. It would only trigger your anxiety and that wasn’t happening today. Instead, you leave the kitchen entirely, depositing the Daily Prophet in the bin as you go. You head towards your office where you can begin your workday. You had settled well within the Muggle world; when you had arrived in Yorkshire you had no idea on what you could do and what you wanted to do. That was your one caveat with the wizarding world, it was so alienated from the rest of the world because they expect all witches and wizards to remain there – it does not cater for those that want to leave. So, once you had settled the business of finding somewhere to live, you set out to make your house your home. To do this, you virtually ransacked a charity shop of their furniture and of a second-hand computer sat gathering dust in the corner.

It was not the old computer that you used now, but rather a newer one. One you had treated yourself to with the profits of your last bestseller. After you had settled, and you needed something to do, you simply started writing. Your genres ranged from fantasy, all the way to romance. As the computer started up, you took a moment to look at you copies of your books on the shelves, and you felt happy. This was your life now, and you were completely fine with it. The last thing you needed was something coming in to mess up the balance you had created.

-time skip-

Months had gone by and whilst you had met the deadline for your next book, and it was currently going through its editing stage, you had religiously kept up with the news of Sirius Black and his escape.

Every sighting, every theory. You read each and every one of them. You had even gone so far as to send a message to Remus at Hogwarts, but he reassured you quickly enough that everything was fine and that you had no need to worry.

So you let yourself relax for a bit, enjoying putting the finishing touches upon your next novel. Christmas had come and gone without an issue; spending the festive season on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, watching Muggle Christmas films. In all your years in the Muggle world, your favourite Christmas film would have to be The Muppets Christmas Carol. It never failed to make you feel Christmassy.

Winter melted into Spring, and you started working outside more. You spent the early days of March travelling the country to bookstores to promote the release of your new novel. Remaining as tight-lipped as always when asked about your inspiration for this book.

The weeks were slipping away, and you were celebrating the fact that one of your books had been bought by a film company. Your version of celebration meant no work for the evening, and your new favourite TV show that you had recorded, ER. A recent TV medical drama set in a hospital in America; you were hooked from the very first episode, particularly drawn to the young Dr. John Carter.

It was through this particular TV show that there was a knock at your door.

You paused the show, uncertain as to what you heard.

Another knock sounded throughout your house. And some part of you just knew.

Throwing the blanket off you, you head towards the front door. A third knock rang at your door and you knew you couldn’t keep him waiting any longer.

Unlocking the door, you opened it and stood before you was him.

Stood before you, after thirteen years, was Sirius Black.

You take him in. Your eyes raking over every single inch of him, to his greasy hair to his too-skinny body. You stand there, not quite sure what to do. It isn’t every day that the man you have loved for over two decades is stood on your doorstep after escaping from a heavily guarded prison.

He utters the first word, “Darling.”

You take a couple of breaths before answering, “Sirius.”

“It’s been a while.”

“Thirteen years, if I’m correct.”

“Too long.”

“I don’t think the situation could be helped, Sirius.”

He laughs, and asks, “Can I come in? I haven’t had a roof over my head for a couple of weeks.”

Somewhat still in shock, you move aside for him to enter. You close the door behind him before gesturing to the living room. He follows you in and sits down. You stand in the doorway, uncertain of what to do next. You never expected for him to find you but found you he has and now everything is up in the air.

Sirius is watching you; he’s calculating every possibility. He never imagined he’d get through the front door and now he’s in your living room watching you have an internal panic over what to do next.

Then all of a sudden, you say, “Tea! Tea makes everything better. You can solve everything over a cup of tea.”

Then you’re off. Heading into the kitchen where Sirius can hear the kettle starting to boil and mugs being slammed onto counters.

“Everything okay in there?” He asks, even though he knows it isn’t and she just needs a minute to collect herself and her thoughts.

“Of course! Everything is fine!” You shout back pouring the now boiled water into the mugs. Your mind is whizzing through every possibility as to how he found you. You had never hidden yourself away, but you were never open about where you were living. You prayed that Remus hadn’t given you away, knowing how close he and Sirius was through Hogwarts.

Walking back through to the living room, you hand a mug to Sirius warning him that it would be hot before sitting down in your spot where ER was still on pause. You turned the TV off, knowing that you would not be watching it tonight. You can’t help but look at him, seeing how he has aged after a decade spent in Azkaban.

“Don’t you want to know how I did it?”

“Of course I do, but it isn’t my place to ask such things.”

“I used my Animagus form to get out of that hellhole and then swam the rest of the way. I would have come to you sooner, but I needed to go north. I had to see him.”

“How is he? What does he look like now?”

Sirius smiles wistfully, “He is the spitting image of James. But he has Lily’s eyes. And he’s got a group of friends and they are as close as the Marauders were. He’s doing okay.”

You close your eyes at that, as if a deep wound within you had finally healed. Harry was doing okay, he had friends and he had settled at Hogwarts.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” You start. “I never believed a word anybody said, and after you were gone, I couldn’t live in that world anymore. So I moved here.” You gesture to your house.

Sirius looks slightly taken aback by what you’ve said. For over a decade, he hadn’t let himself think of you, he hadn’t let himself dream of you. And now he was at on your couch and you had just admitted to missing him too. He only hoped that you had no-one else in your life. He may be an escaped prisoner, but for over ten years he has loved no-one else but you. There would be no-one for him, but you. You were his true north, he could only hope he remained yours. Sirius didn't realise, however, that you had done the same. closed that part of you off, the part of you that belonged to Sirius - for the first two years in the Muggle world, you could barely think of him without feeling as if your heart had been broken all over again.

Taking a sip of his tea, he asks, “What have you been doing for all this time?” He has to know.

You look down at your mug, wrapping your hands tighter around it as if willing the warmth to seep into your bones, to help you relax. “Not a lot. I moved here not long after James and Lily and I haven’t left since. I’m an author now, I love it. It wasn’t the path I had chosen for myself when I was leaving Hogwarts, but I love it all the same, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. I’m happy here, Sirius, in my little Yorkshire village with my mugs of Yorkshire tea, and my books.”

Sirius smiles weakly, he has to ask you, he has to know. “Has there been anyone else?”

“No, there hasn’t.”

For the time in twelve years, Sirius lets himself hope. He lets it bloom in his chest. He can only pray that your feelings haven’t changed.

“What are you going to do now, Sirius?”

“I don’t truly know,” he admits, “I could go to London, to Grimmauld Place where I know Remus will join me. There isn’t a lot I can do, I’m an escaped convict.”

“No shit.”

He barks a laugh at that. It’s the first bit of humour all night, and it helps to relieve some of the tension in the room.

He knows he needs to tell you, but he doesn’t know the right time. Everything is so delicate, so fragile, one wrong move and everything he could ever dream for could be lost within seconds. But he has to do it.

So he does.

“I still love you.”

You drop your mug of tea. It doesn’t smash, but your lovely rug is stained for life with tea. At least you won’t forget this moment, you think to yourself.

“You what?”

“I still love you,” he repeats.

“After everything?”

“After everything. It was us next to get married after Lily and James. I had the ring, and I was working up the nerve to ask you. Then everything happened and I couldn’t. Then I was taken away and any hope I had that I would see you or hold you ever again was crushed. It is astounding how quick a life planned can veer off course. I’m not saying we should get back together, I would like that, but I am nowhere near mentally, emotionally or physically ready for one and I don’t think you’re the type to jump into relationships either. What I’m trying to say is that I’d like to give the Muggle life a go, I need to rest and your life sounds so peaceful.”

You take a minute to digest everything that Sirius has said to you. You debate everything internally, but you know that your heart will win. And win it does.

“Okay. The Muggle life isn’t so bad, it’s done me well for this long. Let’s see how it works for you.”

“You’re serious?”

“I am. I have a spare room for you, we can sort everything else out tomorrow. But for now, lets get ready for bed. It isn’t every day that the man I’ve loved for almost twenty years comes knocking on my door.”

“I like the sound of that,” Sirius says as you stand up, holding out your hand to him. He grasps it tightly in his own. “I like the sound of that very much.”

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #harry potter fanfiction #sirius orion black #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #marauders x reader #marauders fanfiction #the lightning era #siriusblack #x reader

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goldenzingy46 · 4 years

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so i found i regulus black as potions master au

...and whilst it’s (unfortunately) anti-snape, it’s also fucking funny.

FIND IT HERE

and if that didn’t convince you, read below for some extracts:

And he goes home to his creepy obsessive mother and says, “Hey mom, guess what, the Dark Lord just tried to off me,” which is debatably true but guaranteed to piss her off, And suddenly the Official Black Viewpoint on Voldemort is that he Needs To Be Dead (which dismays Bellatrix but is actually something of a relief to Narcissa), Unfortunately Sirius is a bit busy being a covert operative for the Order of the Phoenix and doesn’t hear about this, and also he’s still basically disowned on account of being a reckless Gryffindor idiot

But because he’s there, Snape does not manage to get the job, which doesn’t help at all with his ‘everyone is out to get me’ worldview, and then Lily Evans is murdered by Voldemort and everything goes to hell and Snape doesn’t have Dumbledore’s backing and ends up in Azkaban just like everyone always knew he would, the greasy bastard (says everyone who has the time to think about it). Amusingly enough, he ends up across the hall from Sirius Black, who has been tossed unceremoniously in Azkaban for betraying his friends, murdering Peter Pettigrew, and blowing up seventeen Muggles. This has the somewhat unexpected side effect of causing the Dementors to avoid that entire hallway, because there are Absolutely No Happy Thoughts available, on account of Snape and Sirius being so busy hating each other. Like seriously, they basically come up with a schedule: up at seven, bowl of gruel, sneer at each other for two hours, have a screaming fight, bowl of gruel for lunch, three hours of furious glowering, another screaming fight, bowl of gruel for dinner, nasty sniping insults until bedtime. The Dementors have never found two humans so perfectly suited to torture each other before.

Voldemort was wrong and also had created Horcruxes and yeek, dude, those are so evil even the Black Family Library only has one book on them and it’s How To Not Create Horcruxes.

Incidentally, Grimmauld Place has been renovated, because after Regulus’s mother died, he looked around and went, “Wow, this place is creepy as hell. Kreacher! We’re going for a new aesthetic,” and Kreacher went, “Yes, wonderful Master!” and now the whole place is in white and green with silver accents and actually looks like a place you might want to spend time for reasons other than “on the run from the law and haven’t any better choices.”

He does still end up mixed into the whole mess with the Stone, because this is Harry we’re talking about, but the Trio pretty much figures out the problem is Quirrell from the word ‘go,’ because Professor Black is not sweeping around being Gratuitously Evil all over everything and therefore is not the immediate target of suspicious eleven-year-olds.

Regulus Black hates Lockhart, because no one ought to be more fabulously dressed than Regulus in his own school, you flamboyant fucker, I will out-magnificent you if it’s the last thing I do

Malfoy is still a prat. Some things never change.

Sirius Black breaks out of prison during the summer, for reasons no one can figure out, and the only person to see him go is Severus Snape, who is found laughing hysterically and raving about a black dog, and has therefore clearly been driven mad by Dementors, ah well, no great loss, moving on, nothing to see here.

If anyone is going to be able to master the Animagus transformation without any training, in Azkaban, for no reason other than Pure Spite (™), it’s going to be Severus Snape.

Regulus is like, “werewolves are not supposed to be this calm and likeable, I do not even know what is going on, am I friends with a werewolf? I might be friends with a werewolf. Or allies. I can be allies. Allies is a good Slytherin term. We are both on Team Keep Potter Alive Until Voldemort Is Dead.”

So then Sirius grabs Ron (to get to Peter) and everyone ends up in the Shrieking Shack and there is a lot of shrieking, which includes Sirius yelling “Get behind me, Harry, Regulus is a Death Eater,” and Regulus yelling, “Get behind me, Potter, Sirius is a Death Eater,” and Remus putting both hands over his face and going, “Oh Merlin, two of them, there are two mad Blacks in my life, what even the fuck.”

Unfortunately Sirius is still technically an escaped convict, so he turns back into Snuffles before they get to Hogwarts proper, and Regulus in a moment of Utter Glee (™) is like, “Oh, this is my dog, he’s very devoted to me,” and Sirius has to fawn doggily on his brother.

Which is actually hilarious, because he walks in for the first time in fifteen years and goes, “Wait, do I have the wrong house?” because everything is light and airy and open and really quite pleasant, and there’s no screaming portraits anywhere, and even the house-elf heads have been relocated to Kreacher’s room.

So anyway Ireland wins but Krum gets the Snitch and Harry and Ron are having the time of their lives, and honestly Sirius is too because he gets to cadge food from everyone and he gets ear scritches from Remus whenever he wants them and he gets to growl at that supercilious fuck Malfoy whenever he likes.

Sirius is...not known for his Tactical Planning, and rushes off to Confront the Fake Moody, which honestly goes better than it ought to, because Barty Crouch Jr is not expecting Professor Black’s enormous dog to suddenly turn into Sirius Black and hex him senseless

When the Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black rips off his own sleeve and screams, “Does my Mark look fucking gone to you, you incompetent asshole?” at the Minister for Magic, and said Lord is also one of the most well-respected Professors at Hogwarts, the Minister’s approval ratings tend to tank.

Regulus is a Slytherin, he’s supposed to be cunning and sneaky and fly under the radar, he shouldn’t be number two on Voldemort’s hit list, this is frankly embarrassing. Sirius is kind of indignant that his brother is higher up Voldemort’s hit list than he is. Really, Sirius? Remus says. That’s what bothers you about this situation?

And after the third nightmare which is pretty clearly a vision not a nightmare, Sirius goes right down to Regulus and is like, “So Harry is having visions in which he’s seeing through Voldemort’s eyes,” and Regulus is like, “Well fuck, that’s what that Horcrux does.”

Sirius learned Occlumency from his father, who had a lot of things to keep from his mother, and then later from the Department of Mysteries after he became an Auror. His version has a lot of “setting traps in your mind so your enemies really regret trying this.”

Regulus learned Occlumency from his mother, who had a hell of a lot of things to keep from his father, and then later from being servant to a batshit insane Dark Lord. His version has a lot of “hiding everything important under lots and lots of obfuscating facts and memories.”

Voldemort does try to convince Harry that his godfather is being held in the Department of Mysteries. Since Snuffles is asleep on Harry’s feet at the time, that doesn’t have quite the intended effect.

1) Sirius stops following Harry around as a big black dog and starts following him around as a human

2) ...and then realizes that’s not going to work so well at Hogwarts and goes back to following him around as a dog.

3) Sirius formally takes custody of Harry, his godson, and declares that Harry never has to so much as see a Dursley again

4) Regulus points out that since Sirius is the elder son, this makes Sirius Lord Black

5) Sirius has a fit of the screaming meemies at the thought of politics and formally abdicates the title in favor of his brother, who’s been doing a pretty good job so far

Voldemort spends the summer moving into Malfoy Manor, which the Order of the Phoenix figures out after Sirius gets very drunk and flies his motorcycle to Malfoy Manor in order to “glitterbomb those pretentious wannabe-Blacks.” Glitter apparently does not register as a threat to the Malfoy wards, even when it’s been spelled to be unremovable. Not that glitter really needs to be spelled to be unremovable. Sirius figures out who exactly is in residence when a rainbow-glitter-covered Voldemort comes out of the Manor at speed and tries to hex him off his motorcycle. In retrospect, it wasn’t Sirius’s brightest idea ever, but he did learn where Voldemort was!

Harry’s sixth year is the year that Severus Snape, fuelled entirely by Pure Spite (™), reinvents the Animagus transformation from scratch and escapes from Azkaban as an extremely angry bat.

At this point, Snape is rather dubiously sane, on account of fifteen years in Azkaban, which even if he didn’t have to interact much with the Dementors was fifteen years of either solitary confinement or confinement across from the man he hates worst in all the world. Snape therefore has two driving obsessions right now:

1) Voldemort killed Lily Evans and must therefore die.

2) Snape has to outdo Sirius Black, or die trying.

So about a week after the news that Severus Snape, Death Eater, has escaped Azkaban, Hagrid goes out to open the main doors and discovers a dead Death Eater on the front step of Hogwarts with a neat little note that says, “For Lily.” General consensus is that this is Weird.

The night that Malfoy was supposed to get his Great Duty from Voldemort, which was going to be Killing Albus Dumbledore, was the night Sirius decided to glitterbomb the Manor. And Voldemort, whose Priorities can be skewed by Utter Wrath, decided that Malfoy’s Great Duty was going to be Killing That Fucker Black, How Dare He Disrespect Me, I Want His Head. Malfoy is actually sort of okay with this at first because his hair is covered in shiny red glitter and he looks like an off-brand Weasley, which is Not Acceptable.

So what he does is call Sirius in and say, “Hey, brother, do you want to fake your own death and have an enormous funeral so I can kidnap Cousin Narcissa?” Draco is in the corner trying to figure out when his life took an abrupt left turn into Weirdville, Population Him. Sirius is like, “OMG enormous funeral can I come as a Grim and frighten everyone? Please?” Regulus, who is only the practical one if you ask him, is like, “That is a great idea, it will give me a perfect opportunity to kidnap Cousin Narcissa, truly we are tactical geniuses.” Sirius wants there to be So Much Glitter and is rather put out when Regulus vetoes that plan. Harry, when told about this, decides that Amateur Dramatics on the theme of My Godfather Is Dead And Everything Is Terrible sound like a lot of fun, and wants to be chief mourner at the funeral. Hermione is So Done with all of these people. Remus declares that he will go to the funeral in ashes and sackcloth and rend his clothing dramatically at appropriate points for extra pathos. Hermione is Even More Done and goes off to write to Viktor, who can be relied on to talk about sensible things like spellcrafting and also say nice things about her hair. Albus decides that having Sirius be Officially Dead might actually be a good tactical move in the war, and authorizes the use of Hogwarts grounds for the Epic Funeral, but adds some... tactical revisions to the Kidnapping portion of the show. Minerva joins Hermione in the corner of Done With Everything. Sirius designs his own fake corpse, because of course he does. The Epic Funeral goes off without a hitch, somewhat to everyone’s surprise, and Narcissa is exceedingly surprised to be invited to Post-Funeral Tea by her Cousin Regulus and given a Portkey to a secluded and well-warded villa in France, to be used when necessary. Snape, who watched the whole funeral upside-down in a tree, is Delighted. He has Outlived Black! He has Won! Take that, Black! Voldemort is also Delighted. Tiny Malfoy is just as useful as Larger Malfoy!

Albus looks Wise and Cunning and strokes his beard thoughtfully. Regulus does not say Rude Things about Albus’s overblown sense of the dramatic, mostly because he knows perfectly well he doesn’t have a leg to stand on after the Epic Funeral

Albus hatches a Plan (™)

The first bit of seventh year is actually pretty uneventful, and Harry spends it waiting for the Other Shoe to drop, but the only things that drop are another large handful of dead Death Eaters, who show up on the doorstep every week like clockwork

The Battle of Hogwarts ensues, Highlights include:

1) Ginny Weasley being cornered by Bellatrix Black and nearly killed, except that a fucking enormous bat interposes itself between them and takes the Killing Curse meant for Ginny, and dies with what everyone swears is a look of utter satisfaction on its face

-Literally no one ever figures out what the fuck was up with that, but the bat is buried in Ottery St Catchpole with full honors

2) Neville Longbottom drawing the Sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat (delivered courtesy of Fawkes) and beheading Nagini

3) Regulus Black being cornered by about eight furious Death Eaters and being rescued by his brother, who surprises the Death Eaters by appearing abruptly behind them and yelling, “Back from the dead, fuckwits! Eat that!”

4) Remus ends up facing off against Pettigrew, who has a silver hand which is poisoning him to death on account of the lycanthropy and Voldemort being Terrible. Pettigrew ends up dead. Eyewitnesses report he may have thanked Remus for the mercy.

5) Ron, Hermione, and Viktor Krum (a late and rather surprising addition to the Order) being a really quite effective team (“Er-my-own-nee is brain, I am brawn, you can be good looks,” Krum is heard to say. Ron spends the entire battle blushing furiously.)

6) Harry and Albus and Hedwig taking Voldemort on together

It turns out the Power the Dark Lord Knows Not is that of a really pissed off snowy owl doing her damnedest to claw his eyes out, during which rather chaotic interlude it’s surprisingly simple for Harry to trip Voldemort off the main dais. Landing on one’s head on a stone floor is liable to break even the most Dark Lord-y of necks. A whole bunch of historians have despaired of making the Battle of Hogwarts sound properly heroic when the Chosen One just tripped the Dark Lord and he broke his own fool neck by landing wrong. Nonetheless it’s remarkably effective.

The most interesting thing to happen to Harry for the rest of the year is testifying in front of the entire Wizengamot that his godfather is, in point of fact, Not Dead and that the whole thing was an elaborate act for the purpose of fooling Voldemort.

NOW GO READ IT!!!

#listen fuckers go and read it

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