“One More to Love Chapter 8!” we all chant in unison
💖wip it good💖
Haha! 😂 I had a bet with myself about what the first ask would be and, well, it wasn't a fair bet all things considered 😂
Here's a nice long one for my patient readers, and tagging @theresthesnitch specifically because I haven't shared this with her either 😔
There’s a ringing—the kettle, Sirius thinks numbly—shrieking, shrill, drowning out the voices around him until they sound like they're underwater and maybe he's underwater, too, actually, because he can't breathe and his vision’s gone a bit fucked and that blasted ringing won't stop and he feels his magic sparking at his fingertips because he'll make it stop if it's- “Padfoot, hey!" James has both hands on Sirius’s face and he's holding a little tighter than is comfortable and he's shaking him, and Sirius has come up for air in short, panting exhales. His mother is dead. Dead. Like, dead dead. Tapestry dead. Official. Huh. A weight settles on his shoulders, smothering and hot like a wet blanket in a fire (he and James got up to some dumb fucking shit without Moony at Hogwarts, he's well aware) as he realizes he's Lord Black now. The Family is his to run, or destroy. Morgana's matted minge. His brother's face is grim, and probably looks unexpressive to all but Sirius (and Kingsley, he supposes). He's stoic, but there's a flicker of justice lurking behind his silver eyes, at war with the sour sting of pain at losing a parent. While Sirius was an active disappointment to his mother (and did nothing at all to correct that after a few fruitless years), she and Regulus…were usually fairly civil, even with the whole Beta thing and the whole Kingsley thing. Regulus got treated to quite a few years of Walburga’s favor once Sirius fell out of it, and though they were by no means a loving family, she was still family. Blood. But Sirius knows better than to draw any attention to Regulus’s emotions in the presence of others, so he sweeps his questions and empathy under a metaphoric rug and straightens his spine. “Guess I'm to plan a funeral then." “Padfoot-" Remus begins, but Sirius shrugs off his questioning hand. “Not entirely sure about the whole no body thing, though. Bit worried she's going to haunt us, yeah?" The look Kingsley gives him would be chilling, if Sirius wasn't riding a weird combination of mania and adrenaline. “Not going to be an issue." "Well that's one problem solved,” Sirius says with a shrug. He'd consider offing himself if his harpy of a mother had unlimited access to him as a fucking ghost. No thanks. "Pad-” "What? It was valid,” Sirius defends, rolling his eyes at James. Honestly. "Never planned a funeral do before, and Circe knows Walburga didn't hold one for Orion or uncle Alphard, so-” His voice catches a little, still plagued by the fresh knowledge of what happened to Alphard, how it's all swirling together with the reality of his life and Regulus's and the life he'll never be able to create, and- “So I'll just wing it, then. Can't be too hard." Shove it down, deep, deep down, deal with it maybe later, maybe never, that was Sirius's way.
