where: end of summer fayre / potter house who: @siriusbpadfoot & @its-jamespotter
Marlene had been scanning the fayre for someone to drag into a drinking game when she spotted Sirius leaning there, all smug and irritating. Before she could say anything, a silver stag streaked across the sky, and her stomach did a full somersault. The baby’s born, their baby. She whispered, breathless, “We’re officially godparents…” and without thinking, grabbed Sirius by the arm. “We have to go. Now!”
The witch jabbed him in the shoulder, half-laughing, half-panicking. “And I swear, I will never get over the fact that you stole my best friend—my James—right under my nose.” Leaning against him as they prepared to apparate, she let herself drink in the chaos of the moment—the joy for her friends, the thrill of sharing it with Sirius, the absolute disbelief. “Come on, you ridiculous git,” she gasped, tugging him along. “Let’s go meet the little squib before I lose my mind entirely.”










