❣︎ᴍᴀʀᴀᴜᴅᴇʀs ᴇʀᴀ❣︎
✦sɪʀɪᴜs ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ✦
ᴀᴍʙɪᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴄᴇ- the state of having mixed feelings or contradictory ideas about something or someone.
ᴀ ɢɪʀʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴅᴇsᴛɪɴʏ ᴛᴏ ғᴜғɪʟ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ, ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀғᴜʟ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅʟɪɴᴇ.
#1 in Grindelwald 22/07/22
#1 in the Marauders 02...
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𝕾irius Black loathed his birthday. The Marauders knew that. The constant reminder that he was born into a wicked, vile family loomed into his mind the entirety of the date November 3rd of each year. Born as an heir, a necessity, not out of pure love or happiness. Not that he wished his parents were in love, that would make it even worse considering they're cousins. A loveless, arranged marriage. The love of a marriage you pass on to your baby when their born, the deep connection you share that bonds you to them also. He didn't have it. That was possibly why he was the way he was, a player, one that would have meaningless snogs in broom cupboards and bathrooms between lessons to suppress what he was feeling. He didn't do relationships or love- he didn't exactly have the perfect example growing up.
He blamed his parents.
He spent the entirety of the day in his dorm room, his red curtains closed shut around his bed as he blasted Abba and Queen songs, trying to forget the fact he had gained another year of life. Sixteen. Young and sweet? Possibly. He felt bitter, the taste of his cigarettes looming on his tongue, the sips of firewhiskey he managed to have before Remus took the bottle away because it was the morning.
Eventually he decided to leave the dorm, swinging his leather jacket over his shoulders and weaving his arms through as he made his way to his favourite part of the castle, his grey eyes droopy and sullen. He didn't have shoes on, just some red fuzzy socks Euphemia Potter had sent him over with a kind, loving letter along with a new black sweatshirt and a range of sweets.
The family he could have been born to.
Would his life have been drastically different if he born a Potter? Would he hate his birthday? Would he find love? The type of love that would make a person insane?
It doesn't do well to dwell on ifs and buts. Because that's not what happened, he was born a Black, he was always going to be a Black as long as he was alive, the only thing he enjoyed about being part of the Noble House of Black was that he was a disgrace to it. A traitor, a Gryffindor, friend to blood traitors and muggleborns- refusing to use the foul slur he had heard his parents use many times before. Blood purity. It's vile, yet they believed strongly in it.
This was the family he was born into.
On this day, November 3rd.
Imagine his surprise when he spotted a glimpse of snowy white hair perched on the very edge of the tower, legs dangling over dangerously, a cigarette between her lips, the orange glint right at the very end. His mind was beckoning him towards her, his curiosity driving him. What could she be doing up in the tower, his favourite spot in all of Hogwarts. The place you can see different constellations and stars, he liked the stars. He liked the Leo constellation, his little brother. The lion, it couldn't be more ironic, he was a snake, a Slytherin and yet his star was in the constellation of the pride full animal of his house. The rival, enemy house.
"Well If it isn't birthday boy" I voiced, knowing he was standing behind me on the tower as I leaned over the edge, the adrenaline making some sort of frenzy in my stomach. It felt good, the danger, it felt good, "Are you going to join me or not?"
