Marauders One Shots

Memories (S.B. / LE)

Warnings: mentions of death, sadness, negative emotions, some swearing

Word count: 3.9k

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In the wizarding world, there were very few publications that printed credible new stories. The instant you pick up your copy of The Daily Prophet from where the mail owl had dropped it on your stoop, you knew that this would be the only news story that would be covered across all news outlets.

It had been an age since you had seen his face; seen those eyes that you fell in love with in your fifth year of Hogwarts. Staring at the moving image now, those eyes are full of fear. Your heart breaks at the sight of him.

Moving to your kitchen, your mind takes you back to one of the many memories shared with Sirius growing up as a member of the Sacred 28:

**

The garden at the Black's country manor is the opposite of their house. The garden is warm, it's full of life. The house is cold, full of secrets.

You hated coming here; dragging your heels whenever your family had to make the annual summer trip. You didn't like Mr. Black – he was cold, and his eyes were mean, and you didn't like how he looked at his eldest son, Sirius.

The only reason you didn't pitch up enough of a fight was so you could see Sirius. The same age as you, you had known each other since diapers, and he was your closest friend. Time apart from Sirius was filled with the constant stream of letters sent between the both of you.

He knew that you couldn't spend a lot of time in the manor house; he knew to find you in his mother's rose garden that was tended to with such care – something he had seen only in private; only when his father couldn't see.

He joins you amongst the roses; inhaling their heady scent and counting the colours – red, pink, yellow, orange. An entire rainbow presented here in the garden; one that would not be reflected in the house.

"I knew I'd find you here."

You turn to him, moving on the bench to make room for him. "I like the colours."

He hums in agreement. You lean your head on his shoulder.

"Are you scared?" You ask.

"To go to Hogwarts?"

You nod. The letters had arrived to both of you within a week of each other. Your parents couldn't be more thrilled – another Slytherin in their midst.

"I'm not scared. I'm excited to see what could happen."

"I'm excited too. I just don't want to let my parents down."

Sirius knocks his shoulder against yours, "I don't think that's possible. It'll be me doing all the disappointing – just you wait."

You laugh, instantly feeling at ease. Sirius could always manage to calm you down. With him at Hogwarts with you, you didn't feel as scared.

**

The newspaper makes its home on your kitchen counter.

The kettle is soon boiling on the stove as you decide that a warm drink would be needed for you to face the details of the article.

The shock of seeing his face has worn off somewhat as you finally turn to confront The Daily Prophet. Countless times you had imagined what Sirius would look like when he hit his thirties – he would always be handsome and he would always have his roguish smile, but staring at the photo again, you never imagined this.