For as long as Remus can remember he's had a hard life. Constant monthly mutilations of his skin, a absent father, and the trepidation of his blush inducing crush on Anastasia Fox. Anastasia Fox, who flirts with everyone, has matching fainter scars...
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CHAPTER 21
They sat on the roof of the Potter's Manor, over what was the sunroom of the large house. Around them were skylights shedding beams of warmth from the lit home. They wore band tee memorabilia, on patterned cotton sleeping pants over top their beaten shoes. Peter wore a matching set of teddy baby blue pjs like the ones in children's storybook illustrations. They wrapped themselves in vintage family heirlooms of quilts, to face the cool summer nights.
James carried a sack fashioned from the invisibility cloak his father had given him, filled with contraband; the juvenile choice of firewhiskey, a pack of half smoken Rothmans, matches, used wax candles, a first year textbook- 10 Most Powerful Spells, Bertie Bott's Beans, the map, a compact cassette desk, with sheer heart attack, Ramones, Bowie, Simon & Garfunkel, and Eagles.
"Looks like we're doing a seance out here. Bit gay isn't it." Sirius chuckled to himself, taking the Russian match box and lighting the pre-loved skim candles, sitting them to drip on the flat shackles around their twilight picnic.
"Basically is one. Feels like we're doing dark magic." Peter grumbled, huddling tighter in his quilt.
"Oh cheer up Wormy, think of it as a pledge to eachother." James stated opening up the callow first year bold lettered book.
"Thats ga-" Remus raised to lean on his elbows from laying on his back looking up at the cancer skies.
"I heard it the second it my mouth Moony." James cut Remus off, turning to the used page of number 3- The unbreakable vow.
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The Cup had ended the day after their trip to the fair, with Wales winning in glory. And three days later the first crump trail of war left by the now lingering Grim Reaper had befell, the first scents of a path leading the last supper.
Dolores Tollwalker a second year muggle born Hufflepuff's family was killed. Her mother, father, her grandmother, even the girls' owl. And the twelve-year-old was not kept alive for her tender age, but left orphaned as a mere example, a statement. Only left breathing so the civic could not ignore. You cannot see the dead but the affected, the child, she breathed as a voice for the murder.
Prejudice against non-blood magic wizards and witches had dwelled in the air since the beginning of the dying 'pure' blood lines. There had been past decades of violent discrimination turned into microaggressions because of the growth in morality and reason, and that the so called 'dirty-blooded' now outnumbered the clean.
Though the imbalance in population was apparent, the pure-bloods still came from the first, their ancestors, and having been in the society longer gave them an overwhelming amount of power, connections, and sharp conspiracy.
