Sirius hated being in hospital beds. It seemed like he was in one far too often these days too, he mused as he stared up at the ceiling. They were always boring, involved fussiness, and left him wanting for anything to entertain himself.
“You idiot!”
Regulus would do.
Sirius cocked his head, tilting it forward enough to see his brother. “I’m not supposed to move,” he explained. “Emmeline restrained me and everything because she didn’t believe I’d actually sit still long enough for my ribs to regrow back in the same place.”
“That spell could have killed you,” Regulus snapped. “Honestly it should have killed you. That was idiotic to jump in front like that. I could have gotten a shield up in time!”
“You wouldn’t have,” Sirius said. He believed it too. Regulus’ face had filled with a sense of calm, almost like he was ready to accept whatever was about to happen to him. Sirius never wanted to see it again. “You know you were dead once.”
Regulus opened his mouth to argue, but Sirius made a noise of protest and pressed on.
“Regardless of what actually happened to you, we all thought you were dead. I thought you were dead, and sometimes I wondered about you--what might have happened, if you suffered... if I could have done anything if I’d been there. I can’t ask myself any of those questions, not again.”
“That’s not fair.” Regulus scowled, but his shoulders shifted down slightly, a little less tense, a little less defensive. “I’m not going to treat myself like something delicate just because you don’t want to admit the people around you are mortal.”
Sirius flinched. Regulus bit his lip. Clearly he hadn’t meant to reference James.
Trying to save the moment, Sirius said, “Ask Emmeline. I think you are something delicate.”
“Oh, shut up.” Regulus tipped up his nose. “Stupid Gryffindor chivalry.”
"Zip me" / Mundungus & Sirius / getting dressed as Edwin and Morganna
CW: Partial nudity and discussion related to it
They were supposed to get dressed ahead of time to maximize the potion’s time frame, but that was easier said than done when Sirius’ waist was several inches bigger than than the dress he was supposed to be putting on.
“It’s no good,” he eventually said as he let it fall back down to the floor. His face flushed just slightly as Mundungus looked over. Sirius had no problem being seen in his underwear, but well, his underwear wasn’t usually a scrape of lace being advertised as a women’s thong. He wasn’t a modest person, but this somehow felt more revealing than if he was naked dancing in Mundungus’ face. “You’ll have to zip me in after.”
Mundungus didn’t hide the way his eyes strayed, although it made Sirius feel better that at least he looked ridiculous in Edwin’s fancy robes. “Not putting on the pasties?”
Sirius sighed. “I’m afraid they’ll fall off if I, um, grow breasts with them on already.” He tried to be practical as he picked up the polyjuice. “As soon as you can, pull the dress up over my hips. I’ll get... the girls, I suppose, situated and then we can just slide it up and over.”
Mundungus smirked, and Sirius tried not to flush as he bent over to grab onto the dress, his eyes suddenly as level with bits Sirius didn’t particularly want him close to.
“And keep your eyes off my new body,” he chided. “S’not actually mine to boggle.”
(I got the same ask from @untamedmeadowes and decided they could make it a party. Hey, maybe it’s the prequel to the Benjy ask.)
“Shots, shots, shots!” Sirius chanted, despite the fact that both witches were actually chugging beer and not taking shots. The distinction between the two was going a bit fuzzy, about as fuzzy as how many actual shots he’d taken.
Marlene slammed her pitcher down on the table, grinning as Sirius cheered for her. Dorcas slammed hers a few seconds later, but she was pouting over not winning.
“Don’t worry, kid,” Marlene said, slinging an arm around her. “Some things just take practice.”
“Yeah,” Sirius chimed in. “Like talking to pretty girls you consider your best friend.”
As Dorcas’ eyes practically bulged from her head, the other two started laughing, Marlene already gesturing toward the bar for another round.
Sirius giggled as he stumbled into the hospital wing. He realized belatedly that he’d probably be in trouble for showing up intoxicated if Emmeline was there, but thankfully she wasn’t. “Benjy!” he called, nearly tripping over the closest bed. “Hey Benjy, thought you were coming out tonight!”
Benjy turned around, eyes widening a bit as he took in Sirius in all his thoroughly sloshed glory. “Well, um, Emmeline got called in at St. Mungo’s, so I figured I should be here.”
“No one’s gonna get hurt,” Sirius said. He reached the other wizard and threw an arm around around his shoulders. “It’s a normal night. There’s no missions. Loosen up. If you forget to live a little, you’ll be as boring as Caradoc. Come on, I left Dorcas dancing on top of a table. If we hurry, maybe you can catch her if she falls down.”
(I am totally inventing backstory here, but oh well. It was fun.)
James sighed and flopped back on the floor. From his place on the couch, Sirius made a few that James wouldn’t see before slinking down to flop on top of him.
“Look, it’s not like she broke up with you.”
“No,” James sighed, looking off into the distance with well-practiced dramatics. “But she won’t marry me. Padfoot, she’s my forever. I can feel it. But if she won’t marry me, how do I know we’ll last?”
“Prongs,” Sirius said in his best comfort voice, which was granted a little exasperated. “We graduated a month ago. I wouldn’t even marry you if you asked right now.”
James gasped and sat up. “You take that back! We’re soulmates, and I’ll not hear this slander.”
Sirius grinned and shifted his shoulders in an imitation of Narcissa. “Oh but Mr. Potter, I am a proper lady. I need at least a two year courtship unless your daddy wants to sign a few business contracts with mine.”
Falling right into the bit, James shifted forward, half-hanging over Sirius. “Oh, but Miss Black, maybe I’m not a proper gentleman.”
“Why I never!” Sirius flung his arms out, and they ended up around James’ neck. The added weight sent them both crashing back down to the floor in a fit of giggles. Eventually Sirius looked over at James, his expression softening. “Just give her time. She loves you. Just let her make sure you know it first.”
Did I let Seb goad me so easily into toeing the line of smut? Yes, yes I did.
Sirius was still panting hard, eyes falling closed as he took a moment to just bask. He kept his eyes closed as he felt fingertips ghost along his side. “That was fun,” he eventually quipped, finally opening his eyes to look down at Lu. He wasn’t shocked to see a cat-like grin on Lu’s face.
“I thought you would agree,” Lu said, their hand still sliding along Sirius’ side. All their back and forth banter about trust, and yet Sirius had apparently decided they were worth plenty of it. Lu could have walked away around, could have opened the door and let in a Death Eater or something, but Sirius had still sprawled out and put his hands up when Lu had held up the rope and raised an eyebrow.
Shifting his leg up since he didn’t have his hands, Sirius rubbed his calf against Lu’s hip. “You know now would be a great time to cuddle.”
“I didn’t take you for the cuddling type,” Lu said with a smirk. They didn’t move yet though.
“I like to surprise.” Sirius arched his back up, stretching his arms as best he could. “It would be a lot easier if I had my hands.” He shifted that leg, pulling Lu toward him with it.
They laughed, hands falling forward as they caught themself against Sirius’ chest. “If you must be so insistent...” They shifted upright, straddling Sirius to have their hands to undo the knotted rope holding his arms in place.
Sirius rolled his shoulders and then rubbed at one wrist, but Lu had done well and left no marks.
“I thought you promised me cuddling?” Lu reminded him, not moving at all.
Sirius grinned and wrapped his arms around Lu. “Now who’s insistent?” Pulling them around by the hips, Sirius rolled onto his side and cuddled Lu in against his chest. His eyes fell closed again as he sighed in contentment. Provided Lu didn’t squirm too much, he could easily fall asleep like this. “And you said people made naughty implications about me.”
Content tw: Verbal domestic abuse, Verbal child abuse, Threat of physical abuse, Kidnapping, Murder, Pregnancy… It focuses on Walburga Black and includes the kind of crazy you’d associate with her.
Summary: Walburga was never pleased with Sirius, and that simple truth existed before he’d even been born.
Walburga Black was raised in the ancestral home. The House of Black at 12 Grimmauld Place was in her mind a beautiful place, grand and glorious for all its gothic quirks. She was content to live there forever, but her parents made it quite clear that although she was the oldest, she would not be inheriting 12 Grimmauld Place. As a woman, it was her duty to marry into and continue on a pureblood line. However, she would be continuing her husband’s family line, not the Black family’s. In order to stay, the Black family home, it was to go to Alphard as the oldest son. Walburga had always hated her brother and his peculiar mannerisms, and she couldn’t stand the idea of him taking away her house, especially when his only opinion on that matter was he didn’t want it. In that case, he deserved it even less.
So Walburga did what any sensible witch would do in her situation. She married her cousin.
By marrying Orion, she kept her family name, ensured at least one branch of the Black family stayed pure, and reinforced her own claim to 12 Grimmauld Place. Alphard gave up his stake for it without a fuss, and Cygnus had always been sensible enough to know when his sister would win. She kept her home and had a husband to whom she could always speak her mind.
Once the two had been married and moved into the home Walburga had never had to move out of, Walburga and Orion got to work on the next set of expectations. Walburga didn’t particularly like the idea of motherhood, but it was her duty and had been part of the deal to keep the house.
After a few years of trying, however, the couple realized that something was gravely amiss. They summoned a discreet healer to solve the issue, and Walburga nearly hexed him when he said there was little he could do. He explained that some of the issues she’d always had with menstruation had hinted at her problem with conceiving and carrying a child. While it was not necessarily impossible, it was highly improbable. He recommended they consider their other options.
Walburga raged. None of the alternative methods pleased her, especially the ones that wouldn’t given them a biological heir. Walburga—and Orion too, thought not as strongly as his wife—felt passionate about not letting the Black family line die. Yes, Cygnus was now married and had just been blessed with a third child, but they were all girls. That was hardly a blessing. Walburga needed to do better.
The only option that seemed feasible was surrogacy, but Walburga hated the thought of Orion bedding someone else. She especially hated that it would mean involving someone who could become very hard to control once pregnancy had made her bold. There were too many factors, and Walburga refused to consider it as a viable option. They would just need to wait a while and start trying again.
Fate seemed to have other plans for the pair. Unbeknownst to his wife, Orion somewhat frequently slipped away to Ganymede’s. Unlike his brother-in-law, Orion had no interest in the men who had traditionally been called on at Ganymede’s. Instead he turned his attention to the few woman on staff, paying special attention to those who seemed especially young and innocent. They seemed so at odds with his domineering wife who sought his bedside touch only as a matter of duty and not pleasure. These girls were a chance for Orion to play at romance, at tenderness and seduction in ways his wife would never have allowed.
He grew careless. The girl—for she was barely old enough to be considered anything else—had been disowned by her family after a scandal her last year at Beauxbatons and had come to England seeking a fresh start. She’d ended up at Ganymede’s for lack of other options, and she was just naive enough to think that all his empty promises might come true. Adeline believed him so much that she stopped seeing other clients. It drastically reduced her income, but if all Orion’s pretty words were real, she wouldn’t need income. He would soon be taking care of her.
When Adeline realized she was pregnant, she had expected Orion to see it as a call to action to finally leave his wife for her. Instead he panicked and vowed they couldn’t do anything until he came up with a plan. They stayed locked away in her Ganymede’s room for more than a day, until a screeching howler from Orion’s wife arrived. Adeline had built up Walburga in her mind, and she was terrified of being forced to meet her. Still, her imaginary version didn’t compare to the fearsome woman Orion then dragged Adeline to meet in the entrance hall of 12 Grimmauld Place.
Walburga lost it. She started screaming and cursing, furious that Orion would be unfaithful and furious that this girl hadn’t been smart enough to avoid a child. She threatened the girl with the Cruciatus, only avoiding it because Orion got in the middle and started yelling back.
He managed to talk her out of immediately torturing or killing Adeline, but it was a long, tense afternoon before their conversation went anywhere. Eventually Adeline swore she wouldn’t tell anyone who the father was, and Orion offered her a place in his home until the baby arrived, carefully signaling to Walburga that this was an argument they could have later.
Orion tucked Adeline in a guest room upstairs, one that he magically sealed to lock her inside. Then he went back down to his wife to further calm her down and promise that this baby would be theirs and theirs alone. No one would ever have to know Walburga hadn’t conceived and carried it.
Although Walburga didn’t like it, Orion’s proposed plan of using the situation did make sense in some ways. They needed to produce an heir with blood from the House of Black, and even if the child wouldn’t have their combined genetics, Orion had at least had the decency to knock up a pureblood with no one to miss her when she disappeared in the night.
Still, Walburga had her doubts. The nineteen-year-old upstairs did have hair that somewhat resemble Walburga’s, but her glowing olive skin would never produce a child that could pass for Walburga’s as far as she was concerned.
“You worry too much,” Orion murmured, trying to soothe his wife’s anger. “No one would call us on it. Besides, the girl is so docile. We could probably keep her here, hide her away until we’re ready for another child. I bet she’d stay.”
Walburga’s eyes had flashed as her husband proposed keeping a mistress in her own home, but she’d said nothing. Instead Walburga announced her own expectancy to pureblood society and then disappeared back into the house that she hardly left anyway. Walburga’s reclusive nature fit perfectly into Orion’s narrative.
But Walburga never forgot his proposal of keeping the girl. She waited until the baby had been born before taking him from the room, naming him after Orion’s grandfather and her great uncle, and depositing the boy with his father. If this was to be their one chance at a child and the Black family’s only male heir, his name should represent both legacy and guidance for the future.
Walburga returned to the girl’s room to find her still weeping about her baby being wretched away. She wasted no further time before slitting Adeline’s throat the muggle way because Walburga did have to admit some things were more satisfying by hand.
Orion’s prediction turned out to be true. Publicly no one would dare suggest the child didn’t belong to both of them. If any whispers happened behind closed doors, Walburga wasn’t listening at the fire to find out. She was too focused on attempt to mother a child.
Sirius was a horridly fussy baby who screamed and cried and carried on, and nothing Walburga did seemed to calm him down. Only the family house elf seemed to have a way with him, and Orion quickly grew to resent that Kreacher spending most of his time caring for their baby meant that the wix couple had to do more things for themselves.
Still, he was trying to mend bridges. Although she still didn’t see much warmth in the act, Orion began to bed his wife with more regularity as he continued to try and make up for his indiscretion.
Then Walburga realized she was pregnant. She realized she could have killed the girl and her bastard baby all along.
She did see to it that the healer who had declared her infertile never saw another day of work at St. Mungo’s, although the healer who replaced him as Walburga’s caregiver warned that this pregnancy would not be an easy road for Walburga. He marveled that she’s managed the first one at home and was eventually talked into a home delivery when Walburga was adamant that she would “again.”
When her baby boy was born, he was her bright spot, Walburga’s own personal miracle and proof that the magic in her veins was too strong to be denied, especially in the face of the pureblood but only half-noble toddler down the hall. She named him Regulus after Orion’s uncle and knew he would always be perfect. No matter how much of a disappointment the older one turned out to be, Regulus was the only one that truly mattered in her eyes.
Sirius was only five when he first unleashed enough anger in his mother for her to truly admit how much she didn’t want him. After he’d encouraged Regulus to run around the house in a silly game, Regulus had knocked over a vase. Sirius was quick to label it his own fault. Walburga was too. She let loose, screaming at him about his father’s incompetency and admitting Sirius wasn’t her son. She called his mother an unaccomplished harlot and sneered that while she suspected Sirius would the same kind of disappointment, he was never to taint his brother by dragging Regulus down to his level. His baby brother was meant for better things, and Sirius would not get in the way of that.
Traumatized, Sirius had fled upstairs to Regulus’ room, and Walburga let him go, her anger momentarily sated. Sirius sat and cried and cried and cried, but Regulus cried with him. The brothers clung to each other, as they would for the next six years.
Still, a tiny part of Sirius wondered about that other mother—the kind beautiful woman in his imagination who sat looking out a window and longing to love Sirius the way he would someday see his friends being loved by their mothers. For years, the idea of her gave him strength during conflict with his parents. She was a fantasy he didn’t know how to live without, even if she was never quite a full plan.
Eventually the cracks between Regulus and Sirius would grow, turning into canyons by the time Sirius had taken his OWLS and returned to hell for the summer.
Sirius was an animagus now, not that anyone in his family knew, and he’d see things that put his parents’ views at odds with his understanding years ago. When what started as a small argument over a muggle girlfriend—one who Sirius would forever feel guilty about, thanks to a mysterious accident breaking her arm—quickly boiled over in the mass battle he and his parents had been ramping up to for years.
When he made a snide comment about finding his true mother, Walburga began to cackle with a kind of cruel pleasure Sirius had never heard before. Eventually she admitted the truth. She told Sirius in graphic detail about how much enjoyment she’d gotten from murdering his biological mother.
Sirius denied it, of course. It was exactly the kind of trick his parents would play to twist him around, but Walburga was too gleeful about her story to be telling anything but the truth.
He wretched open the door and ran, not knowing where he was actually going until he’d somehow made his way to The Leaky Cauldron. From there, it was only a short floo trip to the Potters.
Sirius couldn’t go back. The only threads remaining between himself and Regulus seemed to be severed, and the secret fantasy he’d used on bad days was gone, slashed through like his biological mother’s neck.
Adeline never knew what Walburga had named her son. Walburga made sure that while Sirius knew his birth mother was a whore and a destitute and a nothing, he never learned her name either.
OOC: No longer relevant or true to the canon of the rp.
Content tw: Verbal domestic abuse, Verbal child abuse, Threat of physical abuse, Murder, Pregnancy... It focuses on Walburga Black and includes the kind of crazy you’d associate with her.
Summary: The situations that led to Sirius and Regulus’ conceptions were not as straight forward as one might assume.
@nilamdeuil
Walburga Black was raised in the ancestral home. The House of Black at 12 Grimmauld Place was in her mind a beautiful place, grand and glorious for all its gothic quirks. She was content to live there forever, but her parents made it quite clear that although she was the oldest, she would not be inheriting 12 Grimmauld Place. As a woman, it was her duty to marry into and continue on a pureblood line. However, she would be continuing her husband’s family line, not the Black family’s. Therefore, the family home was to go to Alphard as the oldest son. Walburga had always hated her brother and his peculiar mannerisms, and she couldn’t stand the idea of him taking away her house, especially when he tried to make her feel better by insisting he didn’t want it anyway. So Walburga did what any sensible witch would do in her situation.
She married her cousin.
By marrying Orion, she kept her family name, ensured at least one branch of the Black family' stayed pure, and reinforced her own claim to 12 Grimmauld Place. Alphard gave up his stake for it without a fuss, and Cygnus had always been sensible enough to know when his sister would win. She kept her home and had a husband to whom she could always speak her mind.
Once the two had been married and moved into the home Walburga had never had to move out of, Walburga and Orion got to work on the next set of expectations. Walburga didn’t particularly like the idea of motherhood, but it was her duty and had been part of the deal to keep the house.
After a few years of trying, however, the couple realized that something was gravely amiss. They summoned a very discreet healer to solve the issue, and Walburga nearly hexed him when he said there was little he could do. He explained that some of the issues she’d always had with menstruation had hinted at her problem with carrying a baby. It was possible that Walburga could carry a child to term, but it would take a lot of pain, many potions, and a great deal of luck besides. He recommended they consider their other options.
They knew they couldn’t do anything local, and most of the options he’d recommended were unlikely and very indiscreet. A pureblood baby up for adoption was unlikely in the UK and untrustable from another country where an orphanage might say anything to get them to take a child. Besides, the matter was more difficult than just finding a child they could pretend was biologically theirs. Walburga—and Orion too to a less extent—felt passionate that they could not let the Black family line die. Yes, Cygnus was now married and had just been blessed with a third child, but they were all girls. Some blessing.
Walburga and Orion turned their consideration toward another option the healer had suggested: surrogacy.
Orion had been uncertain at first, concerned that his wife would change her mind about allowing him to sleep with someone else. For Walburga, though, it seemed to offer a lot of wonderful benefits, and if someone else dealing with her husband for a little while was one of them, well, she wouldn’t voice the concern aloud.
They made a plan. The two staged a trip abroad together, but Walburga didn’t go. She trusted Orion to make a suitable pureblood choice and to bring her back before the pregnancy ended. Walburga stayed isolated inside her house, but she didn’t mind. She loved her house. She never wanted to leave it anyway, and an excuse to stay there exclusively for a little while sounded heavenly.
Perhaps she should have gone, Walburga realized in hindsight. While Walburga had sat at home musing about whether Elladora or Belvina would be a better namesake for a daughter, Orion had been led astray in his choice by beauty. He claimed that finding a pureblood witch who looked like Walburga and was willing to carry a child she wouldn’t keep was too much to expect. Walburga would have expected him to come home empty-handed, not with his hand on the shoulder of some pretty Beauxbatons dropout hard on her luck.
The girl—for she was barely old enough to be considered anything else—had been disowned by her family and was willing to do whatever Orion wished as long as he paid her for it.
“That makes her a whore,” Walburga had hissed.
“That makes her sensible,” Orion had argued.
The nineteen-year-old was stunningly beautiful, and her hair did somewhat resemble Walburga’s hair. But her glowing olive skin would never produce a child that could pass for Walburga’s.
“You worry too much,” Orion murmured against Walburga’s hair, trying to soothe his wife’s anger. “No one would call us on it. Besides, the girl is so docile. We could probably keep her here, hide her away until we’re ready for another child. I bet she’d stay.”
Walburga’s eyes had flashed as her husband proposed keeping a mistress in Walburga’s own home, but she’d said nothing. Instead Walburga waited until the baby had been born before taking him from the room, naming him after Orion’s grandfather and her great uncle, depositing him with Orion momentarily, and returning to the girl’s room to slit her throat the muggle way. Walburga did have to admit some things were more satisfying by hand.
Orion’s prediction turned out to be true that no one would dare suggest the child didn’t belong to both of them. If any whispers happened behind closed doors, Walburga wasn’t listening at the fire to find out. She was too content in her own little world as she attempted to mother a baby.
Sirius was a horridly fussy baby who screamed and cried and carried on, and nothing Walburga did seemed to calm him down. Only the family house elf seemed to have a way with him, and Orion quickly grew to resent that the elf caring for their baby meant that he and Walburga had to do more things for themselves. In Orion’s frustration, he planned another trip abroad to take care of some business. Walburga didn’t bother to hide her resentment at him leaving her alone with the child, especially now that he was starting to walk and getting into things like mad.
The trip was meant to last two months. When Orion had been gone for three, Walburga didn’t think much of it. When he’d been gone for four, she sent a howler.
That got him home fairly quickly, although Orion arrived in the dead of night, once again with his arm around some floozy’s shoulder. That wasn’t the worst of it. Orion had gotten her pregnant, this time an accident instead of a planned surrogacy, and this witch was Korean.
Walburga lost it. She started screaming and cursing right there in the entryway, furious that Orion would be unfaithful, furious that this girl hadn’t been smart enough to avoid a child, and furious that Orion’s wandering eye hadn’t picked someone who looked like her. She threatened the girl with the Cruciatus, only avoiding it because Orion got in the middle and started yelling back. In her anger, she threatened to hex him too and in a different way. What good was his manhood to her if it couldn’t even give her a child correctly?
Eventually Orion managed to placate his wife enough that she didn’t kill the girl, but it was tempting. He tried to shield her from the same fate Sirius’ mother had suffered; however, when Walburga’s eyes flashed during the girl’s labor and she’d told him to walk away, Orion had listened. This one didn’t want to give up her baby, but she didn’t have much choice in the matter. She did force Walburga to deal with things in a slightly different order. She killed the birth mother first, then named him after Orion’s uncle and carried him to Orion.
Regulus wasn’t as easy a pill to swallow as Sirius had been for the pureblood community, but when Orion insisted both were pureblood, no one questioned it. They did start to whisper about a potential affair leading to Regulus, and “Come to think of it, Sirius doesn’t really follow the Black family looks, does he?” Walburga hated it, and as Sirius grew older and began to act out, she blamed him and his heritage for every little thing.
Sirius was just five when he innocently asked his mother why he and Regulus didn’t look alike. She let loose, screaming at him about his father’s incompetency and admitting neither boy was hers. She even went far enough to admit that she’d killed “the harlots” who had carried them and threatening Sirius that if either boy ever stepped out of line, she wasn’t afraid to do the same to them. Traumatized, Sirius had fled upstairs to Regulus’ room, and Walburga let him go, her anger momentarily sated.
Upstairs Sirius openly sobbed as he clung tight to his toddler brother and decided right then that if she was ever going to hurt one of them like that, it should be him. He had to protect Regulus at all costs, no matter what happened to himself in the process.
After six years and Hogwarts, that resolve began to crack, but it took eleven to break it completely.
