The Project | Sirius Black x reader | ✔

The Bloody Baron

As you raised your head, you were met with silver blood-stained robes that appeared translucent. The sound of heavy chains that dragged along the floor filled your ears as the figure moved around the astronomy tower. Moving your gaze higher, your eyes met the gaunt face with blank staring eyes of the Slytherin ghost. 

"What're you doing here, Baron?" you sighed, leaning your cheek back on your knees. 

"A ghost can wander where a ghost wishes," he hummed, hovering near you. "The astronomy tower just so happens to be a favorite spot of mine. I can see we share the same taste throughout generations."

You shrugged and closed your eyes for a few seconds as another cold breeze blew past the open space of the room, making you shiver. "A heating spell would be recommended, (y/n)." 

"That can wait. I don't have the energy for magic," you sighed. 

The Baron's chains floated in front of you when your eyes fluttered open, making you look up at his face once more. "May I help you?" you asked, knowing it was best to be polite with him even though you were raging inside. 

"I'm wondering the same," the Baron continued floating around the astronomy tower. "Frankly, I am a bit disappointed. How is it that you find yourself up here often?"

"With all due respect, I'm not in the mood for your critiques," you grumbled. "Reproach me about it some other time, please. I'd gladly take the advice of my ancestor, just not right now."

A low echoing laugh escaped the ghost's mouth as he stopped moving and crossed his arms. "Now is when you need to hear me the most," he said in a demanding voice. "Compose yourself, (y/n) (l/n). No direct descendant of mine will remain as such. What a lowly way to spend an afternoon."

"Very sorry it doesn't reach your expectations."

"Don't act so petty." the ghost scoffed as he pulled one of his heavy chains. "You are (y/n) (l/n) of the Honorable (l/n) family of the Sacred 28, a descendent of nobility, and an exceptional witch. Why do you act so down?"

"I don't need you to tell me that." You scowled at him. "What I am changes nothing. You've been dead for centuries, but I can still assume you haven't forgotten about human emotions, no? This is just how I am sometimes. A fancy title doesn't get in the way of that."

"That is not where my intentions lie with what I said." He shook his head. "Won't you take it as advice from someone who has existed far longer than you have? Your titles indeed change nothing, and I can see it. You have chains as heavy as mine, though yours might be invisible to the eye."

"I don't have chains," you corrected, sitting upright. "I'm not held back by anything if that's what you mean."

"Are you not?" He tilted his head to the side before floating towards you, hovering right in front. "You might be able to fool your lover and friends, but not me. I see a lot of things in this castle, and my direct descendant is a subject of interest I keep a particular eye on."

You slowly pushed yourself off the ground with your back rubbing against the column you had been leaning on. "What do you know?"

"I know enough to say that you do have chains," the Baron replied, holding your gaze. "You mustn't want to end up like me, (y/n). Chains are heavy. It is not an easy endeavor to carry their weight through this life and what might await beyond."

"I still stand for what I said. I don't have these invisible chains, I'm not held back by anything," you defended as he gave you a knowing look. "...Fine I- Rather it feels like I'm being pulled in two different directions."

"I know."

Another cold gush of air flew past the astronomy tower, and your muscles contracted at the harsh contact of the wind against your skin. Merlin, it is really cold in January... you bit the inside of your cheek, gripping your elbows before taking out your wand and finally casting a heating charm.

"How does it feel?" the Baron spoke after a few moments of silence. "The cold against warm flesh? I'm afraid it has been so long I have forgotten."

"It's unpleasant," you cleared your throat. "It makes you feel vulnerable and impotent. The wind is a strong force. Nothing can stop it. That really sucks- knowing it's so present but you cannot do anything about it except endure."

"Is that so? Are you telling me there is not a single thing you can do about this seemingly unstoppable force?" he hummed. "Even when you're quite the power as well?"

"Don't think I haven't tried," you exclaimed, fisting your hands. "I've done everything in my power. The wind is ruthless, Baron. It's not just this harsh breeze. It's a whole current. The type that ravages down houses and tears everything to shreds. That's the type of wind I face."

The Bloody Baron placed one of his translucent hands on your shoulders, and even though it wasn't touching you and would usually feel icy cold if it did, you could feel a reassuring warmth coming from it. 

"I'm sure you'll be able to stand against it," he said, giving you a rare smile. "You're a descendant of mine, after all. We're cursed with the expectations of greatness. We're destined for it."

"I'm not sure how encouraging that is." You held in a breath to loosen the knot forming in your throat. "Destined with the expectations of greatness, you say? That really does sound like a curse."

"You nevertheless will live with it as much as you will die with it when your time is due," the Baron explained, bringing your attention to his chains. "A curse sounds like something undeniably bad, but just like the wind, it is very capable of changing."

"...Are the dead all this wise?"

"It comes with the age," he let out a laugh. 

"...You know, you aren't as ghoulish as everyone says you are," you commented. "Considering most of the student body is terrified of you, and you even have Peeves under control, I wouldn't have imagined otherwise, if I'm being honest. I have misjudged you."

"This is merely an exception." The Baron shook his head. "I live up to the reputation you hear about me amongst these halls, but my familiar was in need of a pillar of support against the wind, I could not overlook it, and it seems like the sky has cleared for you, (y/n). Perhaps... just perhaps, you coming up here so often isn't such a bad thing."

You smiled and leaned off the column, taking a minute to look out the terrace of the astronomy tower towards the landscape it offered. "But maybe I should come up here for better reasons. It's absolutely breathtaking."

"The view is quite beautiful from up here," he agreed. "You are an enjoyer of the beauty before you, quite similar to how I was as a student. Though I believe of one existing difference above the rest: our destined greatness might not be a curse for you, (y/n)."

"Thank you, Baron."

"Where will you be heading?"

"To the Quidditch pitch," you said as you reached the first stair of the astronomy tower. "I have a match coming up soon, after all. That might be a good place to use this curse in my favor."

☆☆☆AUTHOR NOTE☆☆☆

I couldn't just mention the Bloody Baron is your ancestor and not include distant relative moments at some point.

I'll leave this chapter up for self-interpretation. I think it's best if I don't explain what was in it and leave you all to understand its meaning how you see fit. The wind varies, after all.

Changing the subject completely, I've confirmed the fact that more hair was cut on the right than on the left for my bangs and it kind of pisses me off but it looks good so I won't complain. 

Why did I start crying midway through re-reading this? I guess we'll never know.

-Camille