The house on the corner of the quiet, tree-lined street was never meant to hold this much noise.
It was too clean for it. Too sharp-edged. Too carefully arranged, like everything inside it had been placed with intention and expectation and the quiet threat of consequence.
But that night—
That night it was alive.
Music pulsed through the walls, bass low and steady like a heartbeat. Laughter cracked through the air in bursts. Trainers squeaked against polished floors that had never been meant for running. Someone had left the back door open, letting the night air slip in—cool and soft, carrying the distant hum of the city.
The living room was chaos.
Sirius Black stood at the centre of it like he’d built it himself, one foot up on the arm of the sofa, drink in hand, grin reckless and bright.
“I’m telling you,” he was saying, gesturing wildly, “if you’re gonna jump off the shed, you’ve got to commit to the landing, otherwise you just look like an idiot halfway down—”
“You did look like an idiot halfway down,” Lily Evans cut in from where she sat cross-legged on the floor, raising a brow over the rim of her cup. “And at the bottom.”
“That was a calculated fall,” Sirius shot back immediately. “There’s a difference.”
“There really isn’t,” Remus Lupin murmured from the armchair, flipping a page in his book with the kind of calm that suggested he had simply accepted that this was his life now.
James Potter snorted from the sofa, sprawled out like he owned it, one arm slung lazily behind Sirius’s legs.
“You ate dirt, mate,” James said. “Full mouthful. I saw it.”
“I was assessing the ground,” Sirius said loftily.
“You were face down.”
“It was a thorough assessment.”
Peter Pettigrew was giggling so hard he was nearly falling off the beanbag he’d claimed, clutching his drink like it might anchor him to reality.
Mary Macdonald had commandeered the music, flipping through songs with a grin while Marlene McKinnon leaned over her shoulder, arguing about what to play next.
“No, no, no—this one, this one,” Marlene insisted.
“We played that already!”
“And we’re playing it again!”
Alice Fortescue was perched on the arm of the sofa beside Frank Longbottom, who had both hands wrapped around a cup like he didn’t trust it not to escape. Fabian and Gideon Prewett had taken over a corner, arguing loudly about something that sounded suspiciously like who would survive longer in a zombie apocalypse.
“I’m just saying,” Fabian was insisting, “I have better instincts.”
“You have worse instincts,” Gideon shot back. “You’d try to befriend the zombies.”
“Networking is important!”
“You cannot network with zombies—”
The house buzzed.
It was messy and loud and completely, utterly alive in a way it had probably never been before.
And Sirius—
Sirius was thriving.
“See?” he said, sweeping an arm out like he was presenting a masterpiece. “Perfectly under control.”
Right on cue, something crashed in the kitchen.
There was a pause.
Then—
“I DIDN’T TOUCH IT!” someone shouted.
“I DIDN’T SAY YOU DID!”
“Well it sounded like you thought I did—”
Sirius grinned wider.
“—perfectly under control,” he repeated.
And then—
The front door opened.
The sound cut through everything.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just—
A click.
A creak.
Silence hit the room like someone had dropped it.
Music still played, but it suddenly felt too loud. Too obvious.
Everyone froze.
Lily’s head snapped up. “Sirius.”
Sirius had gone very, very still.
“You said your parents were gone,” James said slowly.
“They are,” Sirius said, but there was something thinner in his voice now. “They are.”
Remus closed his book.
Peter sat up straighter, eyes wide.
Marlene muted the music so abruptly the silence rang.
Footsteps.
Soft.
Measured.
Coming down the hallway.
Alice whispered, “Oh my God—”
Frank looked like he might pass out.
Fabian mouthed, we’re dead.
Gideon looked delighted by the possibility.
The footsteps got closer.
And then—
A figure appeared in the doorway.
And stopped.
And froze.
Regulus Black stood there like he’d walked into the wrong universe.
For a moment—
No one spoke.
He looked soft in a way none of them had ever seen him before. Not sharp edges and cold stares and perfect composure—but something quieter. Looser.
He wore a loose cream jumper, sleeves pushed up just enough to show his wrists, dark jeans, hair slightly mussed like he’d been out in the wind. There was a faint flush to his cheeks, like he’d been walking for a while.
And in his arms—
There was a bundle.
Wrapped in a blanket.
Held close to his chest.
Everyone stared.
He stared back.
Sirius blinked.
“...what.”
Regulus didn’t move.
Regulus didn’t speak.
Regulus—
Shifted slightly.
The bundle—
Wiggled.
There was a small, indignant noise.
Regulus yelped.
“—oh, for—stop—” he muttered, scrambling slightly as he adjusted his grip, clutching it closer. “Stay still—”
The room erupted.
“What the fuck is that—”
“DID IT MOVE—”
“WHY DID IT MAKE A NOISE—”
“REGULUS—”
Sirius took a step forward, staring. “What are you holding.”
Regulus looked up.
Completely calm.
“...a goat.”
Silence.
Then—
“YOU HAVE A WHAT?” Marlene shrieked.
“A GOAT?” Fabian echoed, half hysterical.
“WHY DO YOU HAVE A GOAT?” Lily demanded.
Peter made a strangled sound that might have been excitement.
James just stared.
Regulus adjusted the blanket like he was holding something precious.
“It’s mine,” he said simply.
The goat chose that moment to wiggle again, letting out a soft, bleating sound.
Regulus’s entire expression melted.
“Oh—hello, sweetheart,” he cooed immediately, voice softening into something unbearably gentle. “Did they scare you? It’s alright, darling, I’ve got you—”
The room lost its mind.
“HE’S BABY TALKING IT—”
“WHY IS HE BABY TALKING IT—”
“WHY IS THERE A GOAT IN THIS HOUSE—”
Sirius dragged a hand down his face. “Regulus. Why. Is there. A goat.”
Regulus blinked at him like the question was ridiculous.
“I bought it.”
“YOU BOUGHT A GOAT.”
“Yes.”
“WHY.”
Regulus shifted his weight, bouncing the goat slightly in his arms like it was second nature.
“I went to an auction.”
“Of course you did,” Remus murmured faintly.
“I was looking for furniture,” Regulus continued, as if this was all perfectly logical. “Vintage pieces. There was a lovely oak cabinet, actually, but it went for more than I was willing to pay, which was irritating, but then I wandered over to the farming section—”
“The farming section,” Gideon repeated weakly.
“—and they were auctioning livestock,” Regulus said. “Probably for meat.”
The room went still again.
Regulus looked down at the goat.
His expression softened.
“I didn’t like that,” he said quietly.
The goat nuzzled into his chest.
Regulus smiled.
“So I bid.”
“You bid,” James said faintly.
“Yes.”
“How much.”
Regulus shrugged lightly.
“Eighty pounds.”
Fabian clutched his chest. “You got a whole goat for eighty quid—”
“It was a very reasonable price,” Regulus said.
“It was a GOAT.”
“Yes.”
“YOU CANNOT JUST—BUY A GOAT—”
“I did,” Regulus said calmly.
The goat bleated again.
Regulus lit up like someone had turned the sun on inside him.
“Yes, I know, darling,” he cooed, pressing his cheek lightly to its head. “You’re being very patient, aren’t you? Such a good baby—”
Peter made a high-pitched noise.
“Oh my God,” Peter whispered, hands over his mouth. “Oh my God it’s so small—”
“It’s not that small,” Sirius snapped.
“It’s tiny—”
“It’s a goat—”
“It’s a baby—”
“What did you name it,” Lily cut in sharply.
Regulus looked up.
Grinning.
Bright.
Soft.
“Button.”
There was a beat.
And then the room exploded.
“BUTTON?”
“YOU NAMED IT BUTTON—”
“OF COURSE YOU NAMED IT BUTTON—”
“THAT’S THE MOST—”
“OH MY GOD—”
Regulus beamed, bouncing slightly on his heels as Button bleated again, clearly pleased with the attention.
“Isn’t it perfect?” he said. “Look at her.”
He turned slightly, angling the goat so they could see her better.
Button blinked at them.
Tiny.
Ridiculous.
Absolutely real.
Mary clutched Marlene’s arm. “I’m going to cry—”
“I am crying,” Marlene said, wiping her eyes. “Why is this happening—”
Alice laughed, bright and helpless. “Where are you even going to keep her—”
“In my room,” Regulus said immediately.
Sirius made a choking sound. “Absolutely not—”
“She’s staying with me,” Regulus said, calm but firm, already swaying slightly as Button shifted in his arms. “She doesn’t like being alone.”
Button made a soft noise.
Regulus softened again instantly. “I know, sweetheart, I know—”
“THIS IS INSANE,” Sirius snapped.
“This is amazing,” Fabian said at the exact same time.
“I want to hold it,” Peter blurted.
“No,” Regulus said immediately, pulling Button closer.
Peter froze.
“...please?”
Regulus narrowed his eyes.
Peter clasped his hands together. “Please please please please—”
Button wriggled.
Regulus huffed softly, adjusting his hold.
“…carefully,” he said.
Peter lit up like he’d been handed the world.
“OH MY GOD—”
Regulus stepped forward, slowly, carefully transferring the goat into Peter’s arms.
Peter made a sound that could only be described as feral joy.
“Oh my God—oh my God—hello—hello—” he babbled, cradling Button like she might vanish if he blinked. “You’re so—oh my God—”
Button bleated.
Peter nearly screamed.
“She likes me—”
“She does not know you,” Sirius said.
“She likes me—”
The room descended into chaos again.
Voices overlapping.
Laughter.
Shouting.
Questions flying from every direction.
And in the middle of it—
Regulus stood there.
Watching.
Smiling.
Soft and bright and a little bit wild.
Like he’d walked in carrying something small and warm and alive—
—and somehow cracked the whole night open with it.
I followed this person for about two kilometers and did not see anyone keeping an eye out for them. Even the best swimmer can suffer cramp or collide with an underwater obstacle, so this seems a bit reckless.
Horse groomer too? Maisee what havent you done that's incredible
Yes 😅
My first job in middle school and through high school was working at an animal abuse recovery/wildlife rescue center. They had all sorts of animals but my working areas were livestock, birds of prey, and big cats (mountain lions, bobcats, jaguars, ocelots, stuff like that)
They had a lot of emaciated, injured, or sick horses from neglectful or abusive homes that were either surrendered to the shelter or taken in by law enforcement, and it was my job to muck stalls, groom them every day, and keep their wounds clean and such. And I was assistant to the center’s farrier and helped clean up their feet and get them into decent shoes upon intake.
👻- 2 or 3 sentences from something you haven’t posted yet
Oho! A sneak peak, is it? Well... let’s see...
I’ve got a bunch of little things in flight at the moment. And I’ve got a couple long-running projects with @raptor-moon too. So hard to pick a story to share from!
But, I think.. yes.. this one.
This is from a little short called “No Supervision” that I hope to polish up and post next week:
“And I’m not supposed to be sampling the wares even when they do wander in, even if it is my favorite food” he huffed, a touch bitterly. “You see, we’ve got this roommate who likes your kind.” He rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t want me eating his precious mortals.”
While the grown ups are gone I really want Monty to help out with a case and the bad guy say "I would have gotten away with it if it weren't for you meddling kids and that dog!" when caught
