Do you have any headcanons about the Black sisters?
I always saw the Blacks in general as decaying aristocrats, with some branches possibly near bankruptcy, which is why Bellatrix marrying a Lestrange for financial security makes sense to me. Given JKR’s terrible math, Andromeda was probably born around 1953 and Tonks around 1972/73, so I always assumed Andromeda got pregnant near the end of her last Hogwarts year and it was some shocking teen pregnancy, even more and that kind of teen pregnancy with a muggleborn sent her family into hysterics, but her and Ted were genuine, so they made it work until yk
When I first saw this, i was like, hmm, I don't think about the Black sisters enough, but I do have headcanons!
So, do understand that I have been in fandom for a LOOOOOONG time, and my interpretation of the Black sisters was HEAVILY influenced by Makani's drawings from the early 2000s.
Okay, here are my headcanons:
All three Black sisters are in love with their husbands (or...whatever love looks like to each of them).
The way I see it, Bellatrix does nothing she doesn't want to do. If she didn't want to marry Rodolphus, she would have murdered him. Or, she would have married him and then killed him and kept the gold.
Personally, I think she and her husband want to fuck Voldemort which is what made their union so, so special. (Maybe they had a threesome and that's how Delphini came along, idk. Or, let's be honest, maybe Rodolphus asked to be in the cuck chair while his wife and Voldemort fucked...)
Narcissa and Lucius struggled with infertility, and so, Draco is their miracle baby boy most precious thing in the universe.
Andromeda and Bellatrix were best friends and only a year apart in school. Andromeda dated Ted secretly, and when Bellatrix found out, they had a huge, explosive fight. Following this, they never spoke to each other again.
Narcissa snitched on Andromeda and Bellatrix all the time to their parents or house-elf.
Bellatrix isn't insane. I don't know how this came to be some sort of "accepted" truth about her, but she reads, to me, as someone who is incredibly cruel and angry and intelligent. She's someone who gets bored very easily, and she isn't bound by a sense of empathy to keep her actions in check. She seeks praise from Voldemort because her self-esteem is derived by her belief that she is inherently better than everyone else--but she's extrinsically motivated by how she is perceived by others. Voldemort feeds her need to be appreciated, and thus has her undying loyalty.
I see Bellatrix as a very Azula-like person, and it might've been nice to see that kind of arc for her. Alas.
anyway i hate it when people talk about snape’s line to harry about letting the order handle the death eaters in ootp bc for me it’s so, so clear that snape thinks harry isn’t ready to fight death eaters…. and he isn’t.
since we get the book from harry’s pov i feel like people think he’s a lot more able to handle certain situations than he actually is - but in gof he only gets away from voldemort & the death eaters by the skin of his teeth and with a LOT of luck. some skill too, but mostly luck. is that impressive? sure, for a fourteen-year-old. but it’s not a sign that he’s competent enough to take on wizards who have vastly more power and knowledge than him… and SNAPE knows that. that comment isn’t just snape being mean and unfair to harry - harry is a fifteen year old kid. he’s NOT ready to face death eaters and voldemort. snape’s saying it in a mean way but that doesn’t make it an unfair view of the situation.
what’s even more infuriating to me is that we get this proven to us in the same book. harry and co go to fight death eaters & are overwhelmed and almost killed until the order - who, by the way, were summonsed and sent there by snape who knows harry & co need help - comes along to save the day and their asses. because no matter how talented they are, they are still fucking fifteen year old kids and they’re not! fucking! ready! to fight! death! eaters!
snape telling harry that he needs to step back and let the order handle it is a) an acknowledgment of harry’s realistic ability and b) trying to keep him out of harm’s way when harry has a demonstrated lack of sense about his own realistic ability (admittedly given to him by the adults around him *cough*sirius*cough*). is it said in a mean way? sure. but that doesn’t make snape’s assessment unfair or wrong.
I mean, we have to choose. Either we blame Dumbledore for grooming Harry into sacrificing himself (which people think he did) or we blame Snape for treating Harry like a normal child, as a normal parent would do: it is not your duty to win a war between two sides with enormous power, it is not your place, just be a student and do your homework. If there’s a problem come to us so we can solve it, and don’t rush to try and save the day.
Harry rushes; Sirius dies. That’s what Harry learned to do after all, rushing into adventure, and that’s what Dumbledore comes to regret at the end of OotP, even though it’s only partially acknowledged.
It is not healthy nor normal for a kid to risk their life for a bag of sweets or for the war.
This is all accurate, but it’s also true that the adults mishandled how to go about it. I really wish that ANY of them had bothered to acknowledge Harry’s (really fucking amazing for a child!) performance in his prior interactions with Voldemort, and the fact that he’s been through things many adults haven’t been.
The way they all, Mrs. Weasley especially, dismiss and exclude him as “just a child” has almost a gaslighting effect on him, not just in saying “you can’t do this” even when he has done it, but in the way they seem to be congratulating themselves on preserving a childhood he’s never had and an innocence and sense of security he’s long since lost.
For the first, Harry can see the bullshit—he needs someone to convey the distinction to him between safeguarding and dismissal, to say yes, you did good and we’re proud of you and you’re skilled but also you need to step back and train and develop and close your weaknesses before you go challenging the noseless fuck again because every battle is still a risk and we don’t want to lose you to one you don’t have to fight.
And for the second—he’s in a weird space here, the child of neglect and abuse who’s learned to depend only on himself, the child who’s watched a classmate die, the child who’s been helpless in the face of the enemy and on some level knows his weaknesses (see his rant to Ron and Hermione about how he didn’t live through cleverness where Cedric died, in OOTP when they’re discussing the DA club), and a lot of what the adults think they’re protecting has never existed for him, or doesn’t anymore, and when they try to coddle him in childhood and ignorance and metaphorical cotton-wool, of course he doesn’t feel seen, and of course the boy who watched a classmate die, watched that classmate’s father shatter, doesn’t value himself being protected at other people’s expense, and of course he doesn’t appreciate it when the mother of the girl whose life he saved undermines his fitness to fight and save other people as if she hadn’t directly profited by it …
And he’s probably resentful as all hell that they’ll do all this for the fifteen-year-old against his will when none of them ever bothered to help the ten-year-old, the six-year-old, the three-year-old he once was, to whom being rescued from Dudley’s pinching fingers and Marge’s biting dogs and Vernon and Petunia’s putrid resentment, fear, loathing, and insinuation that he’s nothing but an unwanted burden, would’ve meant everything …
All of it, however well-meant, however true, is delivered in a way that mixes insult with injury with too little, too late, with the truth of it mangled up and made to look like a lie, such that he doesn’t recognize even the parts he asserted for himself, elsewhere.
“You did good” and “you shouldn’t have had to” can coexist. “You were brave and strong and clever” and “if you do it again I’ll put you in detention for a year” can coexist. “You were failed by adults before” and “you can, you must, put your trust in us now, and I promise we will do our best that you don’t suffer consequences for not being there in person” can coexist, and they should.
This is one of the situations where the “but why?” should have been given a comprehensive and complex answer that took Harry’s whole situation into account, and he instead gets a “because the grownups said so” that also manages to dismiss everything he’s been through. He’s probably capable of understanding, if not agreeing with it completely—but nobody even tried.
I FINISHED!!! PLEASE SUBSCRIBE AND LIKE FOR MORE ANIMATICS 🤍✨ the support helps!
I really love the talk around harry having similar behavior and mannerisms as petunia and UGHHHH Anyways he deserves love and a family! Loved working on this 🙂↕️!
would it be too much to ask you rate the library quartet blunt rotation out of 10. hypothetically. :)
🤣🤣 giggling over the "hypothetically" because this implies that i will be getting these boys high together in BOTL...........which........😏 look they're definitely getting drunk at least once in BOTL. but for the second book i can DEFINITELY see them getting high, especially with all the shit that will be going on 😅
obligatory start with Blaise - he would be 9/10. blaise is so relaxed that his high would just make him a thousand times more philosophical. he would pose 'what if' questions constantly like, 'what if we were reincarnated as crabs but remembered our past lives as wizards...do you think we'd be able to do magic?'
blaise would also be such an instigator. he would be the one helping Draco, who would be a 4/10 for the blunt rotation, through his anxiety attack. he would swaddle that spoiled boy up and pet his head until he napped the worst of it off. Draco would absolutely not be able to handle the out-of-control feeling of being high as a kite, and he would also be 1000% convinced that his mother would walk through the door at any moment and then he'd get in so much trouble.
Now Theo...I think Theo would have these vibes:
so, what, 7/10? maybe a 6/10? I think Theo's cynicism and fatalism would be soooooooo funny to Harry but Blaise would get annoyed because it would set Draco off on another spiral. Draco would just absolutely believe every word Theo is saying as if it were the word of god, like:
theo: we have to become better than the muggles at their own world, or else they'll suffocate magic right out of the earth. they're already poisoning the air and water worse than ever, magic is the next resources they'll end up destroying.
draco: 😨😨😭😭😭😭 we're going to be suffocated by muggles?! how could they? what have we ever done to them?! [conveniently forgetting about the dark lord lmao]
blaise: 😒 theo shut the fuck up. harry, put something in his mouth.
theo: BLAISE!
harry: obliviously shoves a fresh-baked cookie in theo's open mouth, here you go!
that leads me to my final rating - Harry would be 10/10, because harry would be the high chef. He would be consumed by creativity and desire to bake and cook when high, and he would make the most delicious fucking snacks/meals for them all. draco would, in fact, put a halt to getting high at all because he'd gain 10lbs in a week.
also, i think harry would be so relaxed when high because it would alleviate his chronic pain! I have always liked the headcannon of chronic pain for harry. in fact, in one of my stories (maybe BOTL), harry has arthritis in a couple of his fingers from a bad break he suffered as a kid (dudley and a door vs harry's fingers) that never healed correctly. not to mention all his crazy quidditch tricks, throwing his body around, the multiple perilous close calls with death, his bad sleep....yeah i think harry would be the happiest, most cuddly, most lovable one of the bunch when high and he would love nothing more than to make them all be happy and fed.
im rusty. so rusty. and also extremely late for christmas. i may as well have waited 350 days until the holidays came around again, but im trying to write more this year, so hear you go? eek im nervous. please pardon any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes. enjoy! also tumblr doesn't seem to have line breaks so sorry if any time jumps are confusing.
also a warning for language and mentions of wanting to step in front of a bus as an extreme response to being embarrassed. i swear this is all fluff otherwise.
Harry doesn't know what to get Sirius for Christmas.
Well, to clarify, Harry doesn't know if he can get Sirius anything adequately worth a damn. Because how can a game (magical or not) or piece of art or trinket or any sort of anything say hey Merry Christmas and by the way, thanks for saving me from my horrible abusive household where I lived in a cupboard and for wrangling a fucked up wizarding judicial system so that it both exonerates you from a murder you didn't commit and lets you adopt a kid you only properly met six months ago.
Harry would also like the gift (if he ever manages to find something) to say also thank you for giving me my own bedroom and for making pancakes every Saturday morning and for letting me visit my friends and for playing two-man Quidditch with me and for ruffling my hair and for always letting me pick the film that we watch and for telling me stories about my parents and for always being just enough and for not pushing me when I have nothing to say and for calling me by my name instead of shouting boy angrily-
Harry figures that he should cut himself off there. Any more gratitudes and the gift will literally be impossible to find, lest it be the size of Hogwarts in an effort to cram any and all unspoken messages Harry doesn't have the courage to voice out loud.
So Harry does what he usually does in a sticky situation. He turns to his friends.
No clue mate, Ron writes. I normally get Mum perfume and Dad whatever Muggle trinket he's been obsessing over. So unless Sirius wants a rubber duck, I probably won't be much help. But you could probably give him one and he'd be ecstatic. You're pretty much his favorite person right now.
Ah bloody hell. Do you think I should get Sirius something as a thanks for Pig?
Even though he's sure Ron's right (although Padfoot might enjoy a rubber duck more than Sirius), Harry doesn't have time to add Ron's own gift conundrum to his list of problems, so he turns to Hermione, who ends up being a bit more helpful.
I know you said that Sirius was interested in curse-breaking and how it can be used to help with cleaning up Grimmauld Place, so maybe something pertaining to that? A book or starter kit? Or perhaps something a bit more personal, something he couldn't just buy in a shop. Don't worry too much, Harry. He'll love whatever it is you give him because it's you.
Harry disregards the book suggestion immediately. Sirius does read; over the holiday break the two of them have taken to sitting quietly on opposite sides of the couch in the sitting room, reading books from the Black family library and munching on the latest treat Mrs. Weasley has sent them while flames blaze in the fireplace, only breaking the peaceful quiet occasionally to share whatever interesting passage has just been read. But Harry doesn't want to give a present that reminds Sirius of the exhausting work they do every day trying to make Grimmauld Place a habitable home.
Hermione's other suggestion, however, gets Harry thinking. Something he couldn't just buy in a shop. That obviously eliminates all of the last-resort items Harry had on his mental list, as they were dumb things he had planned to frantically order by mail once he gave up on the idea of finding something good enough for Sirius. But it also opens up a new idea, something that Harry himself had appreciated when he had received it a few years ago.
He begins firing off letters and mail-in order forms with an efficiency Hermione would admire. The owls return in quick fashion, up to three or four a day. Sirius doesn't notice anything at first, but when Hedwig taps on the kitchen window for the second time that day during breakfast, he gets up and lets her in with a raised eyebrow at Harry.
"Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment?" he asks, somewhat incredulously, peering at the label on the package. "Harry, love, you know we can just go to Diagon Alley whenever you'd like. No need to rely on owl post if you're running low on supplies."
Harry flushes and snatches the small, soft package from Hedwig, stuffing it under his armpit and looking determinedly at his porridge. He hopes he doesn't have ACTUALLY IT'S PART OF YOUR CHRISTMAS PRESENT written all over his face.
"It's fine," he shrugs, aiming for casual nonchalance with his tone. "It's just a small thing. No point in going all the way down to Diagon Alley. Besides, the crowds would drive you crazy. They'd probably give you a concussion trying to get a picture."
Sirius grimaces, probably thinking of their last attempt to go for an ice cream at Fortescue's shortly before Harry had left for the fall term. They'd returned to Grimmauld Place ice cream-less and with a giant tear down the front of Harry's robes.
"Nothing a Glamour Charm wouldn't fix," he responds, grabbing his own empty bowl and bringing it to the sink. "Anyway, it's not fair for us to be shut up in this damned house because some people can't behave themselves in public. You just let me know whenever you want to go out, alright? I promise I won't breathe down your neck while you look at potions ingredients and whatnot. Even if they all suspiciously happen to be ingredients for an Enlarging Potion."
He manages to ruffle Harry's hair before the boy squawks out a "Sirius!" and darts out the kitchen, cackling in response to Harry's sputtered "I'm not... I wouldn't... SIRIUS!"
As Christmas approaches, Harry begins to stay up later and later into the night, working frantically to finish Sirius' present. One late night (or early morning, really), he hears a gentle knock on his door. He jumps and shoves the half completed project under his comforter.
"Come in!"
Sirius peeks his head through the cracked open door. "Are you alright? I was getting a glass of water and noticed your light was still on."
Harry nods, trying to convey a casualness he doesn't feel beneath the stress of wanting to have the present ready by Christmas morning. "Yes. Fine. I was just... reading." He reaches for his nightstand and holds up the latest book he's knicked from the Black family library for this exact purpose.
Sirius raises an eyebrow. "You sure? I've read that one before. Couldn't last more than thirty seconds at a time without falling asleep."
Harry glances at the cover. He hasn't even cracked it open yet. "It's actually quite interesting. I've always been fascinated by... the evolution of wizarding legalese from 1500 to 1800." He internally winces as the subject matter is finally made apparent to his sleep-deprived brain.
Sirius pauses, clearly sensing that something's up. He must decide that now's not the time to probe further because he says, "Alright. You're stronger than me, then. Let me know if you need anything though." He begins to retreat and close the bedroom door but stops right before he actually does. "I forgot, " he murmurs, opening the door wide and stepping fully into Harry's bedroom. He approaches Harry where he's sitting on his bed. Harry tries to discretely shove the half-finished present further under the covers. "You had a letter downstairs. We must have missed it earlier. I only saw it when I was getting water." He hands over a rather thick envelope to Harry, who flips it over, notes the name of the sender, and smiles, relieved.
Sirius lets out a small puff of air, and Harry looks up at the sound. Sirius pastes on a rather strained smile. "Do you often write to Mrs. Weasley?"
Harry's brain scrambles for a response. "Erm. Not really."
He doesn't say anything else, unsure how to explain away the situation convincingly. A rather awkward silence settles between them. Sirius looks as if he's summoning the courage to say something.
Sirius takes a deep breath. "I'm here if you ever want to talk, Harry. I know the Weasley's have always been great to you, and I never want to feel like you're getting that taken away. But, I just want you to know that I'm also here, in addition to them. For anything. No questions asked or judgement cast. Alright?"
The letter slips out of Harry's grip, as he frantically waves his hands in front of him, desperate to correct Sirius' perception of the situation. "Oh, no, Sirius, I know! I swear it. We were just... planning Ron's birthday present this year. They wanted to throw him a party." The fib comes easily.
Sirius visibly relaxes. "Oh. Ron's birthday's not until April though."
"Yes," Harry's brain scrambles for an explanation. "But you know how Mrs. Weasley is. Always trying to stay ahead. She's already starting to plan the menu. Fretting between bacon sandwiches or chicken legs for the main course."
Sirius shakes his head, a genuine smile starting to form on his face. "Well you know my vote is always for chicken legs. Assuming I'm invited of course."
"You know you're always invited. Mrs. Weasley always wants an opportunity to make sure you're feeding me properly," Harry rolls his eyes. "And Ron thinks you're pretty cool too. Even though you broke his leg."
Sirius gives him a mock scowl. "Hey now! I wasn't in my right mind that night. And I gave him an owl to make up for it! Even though I was probably doing myself more of a favor than him. That damned owl was driving me mad."
Harry giggles, and Sirius' smile grows wider at the sound. He lets out a dramatic sigh and leans over to ruffle Harry's hair, ignoring the sounds of protest that come in response to the action.
"Alright then, love. I'm off to bed. Shout if you need anything, and I'll be here in faster than you can say chicken legs. You hear me?"
Harry nods. "Yes sir."
Sirius scowls for real this time. "None of that now, remember?"
Harry nods again, this time rather sheepishly. Sirius bends over to kiss his forehead before heading out of the bedroom, shouting a "Good night!" over his shoulder before he closes the door behind him.
Harry sighs in relief, pulls the present out from underneath the comforter, tears open Mrs. Weasley's letter, and gets back to work.
The morning of the 25th is bright and cold.
Harry is a ball of nerves as the breakfast plates get cleared away and the two of them prepare to go to the sitting room to open presents. Padfoot had barged into Harry's room at half past seven, barking loudly and leaping onto the bed, nearly giving Harry a heart attack in the process. He'd only finished Sirius' present in the wee hours of the morning and had barely managed to shove it into his desk drawer before he'd fallen asleep.
Sirius had dragged Harry into the kitchen for special Christmas chocolate chip pancakes and hot chocolate but had only allowed Harry to start eating once he agreed to don a ridiculously oversized Santa hat that matched the one Sirius had on his own head.
"If I'd known you liked Christmas so much, I'd have taken you to the Muggle mall to get a picture with Santa," Harry grumbles only half-heartedly as he watches the milk heat up on the hob. Sirius was adamant about making hot chocolate the old-fashioned way.
Sirius laughs loudly and hooks his arm around Harry's neck, pulling him close and planting a kiss on his forehead with a loud smack. "It's our first Christmas together, kiddo! First of many. You can get past your anti-morning attitude for that, can't you?"
"I gueeeeeeees," Harry mock-whines, drawing out the word as he adds the chopped chocolate to the steaming milk. He's secretly pleased that Sirius seems to somewhat enjoy his company. It shows he's not such a terrible charge.
"Thank you for your sacrifice," Sirius states dramatically. He gives Harry one last squeeze before releasing him. "Now come on, let's get to presents. I call going first!" He darts off to the sitting room where, overnight, a large pile of presents has piled in front of the eight-foot tall tree Sirius had dragged home one afternoon (with lots of swearing).
Harry gulps nervously as he pours hot chocolate into two mugs and tops them both with a handful of marshmallows. His hands are slightly shaking as he brings them both to the sitting room. Sirius is poking around the heap of gifts as he enters the room, and Harry spots the hastily wrapped, lumpy package he completed only a few hours ago.
Please like it, please like it, please like it, he silently begs as he sets the mugs on the coffee table. The sight of the gift is almost nauseating, and he keeps his eyes fixed on the hot chocolate.
Sirius turns at the sound to spot Harry and grins. "Alrighty, kiddo, what do you want to unwrap first? I did go a bit overboard this year, you'll have to forgive me. But there's plenty here from your friends!" He's practically vibrating with excitement.
Harry straightens his back and clears his throat. "Actually, do you mind if you do the opening first?"
Sirius pauses. "Are you sure? I swear mine are quite good."
Harry nods vigorously. "Yes. You can start with mine. It's right on top. The green wrapping." Let's just get this over with, he thinks.
Sirius picks up the package and shakes it gently. It makes no noise, and Harry can't help but let out a chuckle despite the knots in his stomach. Sirius grins at him and begins to carefully unwrap the gift.
Harry's legs suddenly feel like treacle tart filling. He lowers himself onto the couch so he doesn't pass out.
The wrapper paper gently falls to the ground, revealing a mound of knit material. Sirius unravels the pile to reveal a rather lumpy, oversized navy blue sweater with a slightly misshapen black dog woven onto the front.
Sirius doesn't say anything.
Harry's heart drops to his stomach. He opens his mouth, desperate to explain away the situation. "It's uh... it's... erm... it's a sweater? I made it?" As if that wasn't fucking obvious, he internally snarls at himself. He shakes his head, trying to organize his thoughts. "Yes, I, um, I made it. That's uh... that's Padfoot. On the front of it. I knitted it."
Sirius doesn't say anything.
Harry's words start coming out faster and faster, hoping something comes out that remedies this clusterfuck of an event. "Mrs. Weasley helped me. She sent me instructions. And the patterns? That 's why she was sending me so many letters. I didn't know how to do it. They aren't throwing a party for Ron."
Sirius still doesn't say anything.
Oh fuck! Harry thinks wildly. He's probably livid I lied. Oh fuck fuck fuck. "I'm sorry I lied to you! I just wanted it to be a surprise," he manages to get out. "That's why I was ordering so much through owl post. I had to get the yarn and the needles. And I kept having to order more yarn because I kept getting frustrated and messing up a lot. I didn't want you to know. Until now, that is. Obviously."
Sirius. Still. Doesn't. Say. Anything.
Harry wants to crawl into a hole and die. But for some stupid, idiotic reason, he keeps speaking. "I wasn't sure if you'd like the color? I actually realized that I don't know what your favorite color is. But whenever Mrs. Weasley makes one for me or for the Weasley kids, she usually does our favorite color. Or house colors. But I figured you have lots of things in Gryffindor colors? Like your wand holster. And then I noticed that you wear a lot of navy. So I thought that might be nice."
If Sirius doesn't say anything, Harry just might call the Knight Bus so he can step in front of it. He decides to get everything off of his chest before he has to do so.
"Mrs... uh... Mrs. Weasley made me one," he explains softly. "My first year. And every year after that. It means a lot to me. I think it was probably the first gift I ever got. And it kind of made me feel like part of their family? A little bit at least. So... so I wanted to give you one. Not from her, of course. But from me. So you could feel like a part of... our family?" His sentence embarrassingly ends like a question, so he hastily tacks on, "If you want to, of course."
Sirius finally moves, and Harry shuts his mouth. He gently sets the sweater down on the armchair next to him, walks over to where Harry is sitting, and pulls him up into the tightest, fiercest hug Harry has ever experienced.
Neither say anything for a few moments. Until Harry can't deal with not being able to breathe and squeaks out, "Uh? Sirius? I can't really inhale."
Sirius releases him quickly and takes a step back. "Sorry."
Harry feels awkward again. He clears his throat, hoping to fill the silence with something. "I hope you like it. But I know it's not done very well. So I can take it apart if you'd rather that. The shop said they'd take the yarn back as long as it wasn't too worn."
Sirius' head snaps up. "What? Harry, my love, I don't not like it. I love it."
Harry's mouth goes dry. "What?"
Sirius gives him a small smile. His eyes look suspiciously glassy. "Harry. You made this for me. You made this for me! It's my favorite color, and it's got me on it! Of course I love it. Not just because you took the time and the effort to make something for me. Because, my goodness, how do you even start with something like this? It must have taken you ages. But also because, well, you said it yourself. I mean, I already felt like part of the same family with the whole adoption bit and knowing you since you were a baby and whatnot, but it's always nice to know you feel the same. And I'm so honored to be a part of your family. Always will be. You have to know that, alright?" Sirius presses their foreheads together. "Alright?"
Harry nods, feeling a little something catch in his throat. He nods.
"Thank you for my gift," Sirius says softly. "I love it. No talk about talking it apart. I'll be proper mad if you do, you hear me?"
Harry nods again. Sirius releases him. He grabs the sweater from the armchair and pulls it over his head. The hem is uneven and the dog looks more like a cat once the sweater settles on his body, but Sirius only looks down at it and grins.
"Now come on, it's your turn to open presents. I don't think any of mine are as good as a handmade sweater, but I hope you like them anyway. And that's got me thinking, we ought to do a Christmas card no? Especially now that I've got a nice sweater on. Mrs. Weasley might tear up at the sight of a photo of the two us. Come on, come on, pick a present."
Harry rolls his eyes without any real heat behind the action. And he doesn't say anything later when he feels a burst of pride when he sees the photo they take in front of the Christmas tree that afternoon, Sirius wearing the sweater with the biggest, proudest smile Harry has ever seen.
He just bottles the feeling and hopes to remember it forever.
Sirius Black and Severus Snape: The Narrative Stand-Ins for James and Lily Potter
At this point in the fandom, I think everyone is well-aware of the mirroring between Sirius and Snape - the fact that their lives more or less run parallel with each other with very similar life events (meeting their best friends who form the spiritual and moral centre of their lives in childhood, coming from deeply unhappy homes, making conscious decisions in their school years to get sorted into houses in direct oppositions to their childhood upbringing, making a fatal mistake leading to the deaths of their backgrounds, spending the rest of their lives in grief and atonement, confining themselves willingly to their childhood homes), but I do think the depth of their mirroring goes unnoticed in fandom in general.
Sirius and Snape - beyond their more direct similarities in terms of their character arcs - are also the two halves of James and Lily, and literally fulfil their purpose in the narrative.
James is the father figure, the more immediate source of comfort, the parental figure - up until the first five books - that Harry is most keen to know about. James' legacy is physical and emotional, leaving Harry behind tools to aid his journey such as the Marauders Map and the Invisibility Cloak. James's role in Harry's life is to be a spiritual guardian and role model, manifesting literally in the form of Harry's Patronus.
This is the role Sirius takes in Harry's journey. Sirius is Harry's father figure in lieu of James. Sirius is a guardian, a loving father, a source of comfort. Harry truly starts thinking about his father and hungers to know him in Prisoner of Azkaban, and it is in this book that he learns to cast the Patronus to defeat the despair of the Dementors, who are also most associated with Sirius Black in the series because of his imprisonment. This is also the book named after Sirius.
Lily, while being Harry's mother, is not who Harry thinks of when he needs comfort or guidance. He doesn't think of her at all until he is forced to in the sixth book, the Half Blood Prince, which is named after Snape, who is her stand-in. Crucially, while Sirius stands in for James as a guardian, Snape does not, because Lily's primary purpose in the narrative is not to be a guardian. It is something a lot more mystical, ancient, and in Doylist terms, plot-centric. Lily's purpose, while more abstract, is crucial to Harry's defeat of Voldemort due to her sacrificial love ensuring his survival in the first place.
This is why both Snape and Lily start receiving prominence in the narrative around the same time. In the 5th book, James comes off his pedestal, and significantly, his narrative stand-in, Sirius, dies at the same time. Harry is no longer a child with the death of Sirius, and with the new knowledge of the prophecy, must fully come into his own and take his place as the most important figure in the war. What he needs now is more relevant, more powerful, something to defeat Voldemort.
Lily's role in the books has always been a mystical one. It is her love that defeats Voldemort, a choice made possible by Snape. Her role in the narrative was always mysterious. We didn't know anything about her, really, until the last book, because her purpose is not pertinent at the level of character as much as it is theme and plot, both of which are also exemplified by Snape. Both Snape and Lily are figures shrouded in mystery, seemingly in the background, until it is made clear that it is their choices that are most influential to the entire plot of Harry Potter unfolding. Similarly, it is when Lily's role in Harry's life - which is the defeat of Voldemort once and for all to ensure her son's survival - is fulfilled, that Snape, her narrative stand-in, dies.
It also isn't a coincidence that you can see this symbolised in more subtle ways. Sirius Black is the figure in the story most associated with dementors, which are a symbol of his own grief and agony over James' death, and Harry's Patronus is a stag, and in this book, the patronus is a spiritual guardian to protect against despair and darkness, which is what Sirius is for Harry, a comforting, if imperfect, parental figure with whom he can be a child.
In the later books, the Patronus has another function, to deliver messages and lead a lost person to find their way back. We see this in the Half Blood Prince, with Snape going projection central over Tonks' patronus when they find Harry in the train. And more directly in the Deathly Hallows, when Lily's Patronus leads Harry to the Sword in the lake, which helps him destroy the Horcrux and a part of Voldemort, thereby fulfilling Lily's role in the narrative, of defeating Voldemort and ensuring Harry's survival.
