❝ FOR FREEDOM.
FOR T R U T H.
AND FOR LOVE. ❞
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍.
1978. Where a squib and a mischief-maker cross
paths at the crux of a war that would eventually
tear apart everything - and everyone - they...
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Hogwarts, 8:30 pm
A PICTURE OF the perfect spring day, the morning had dawned bright and clear. Sunlight streamed in through the many paned windows found within the olden castle, casting a spell of shadows across the scrubbed stone floor. But the shadows, which gradually lengthened with the afternoon, had melted into the soupy darkness of twilight by the time Sirius left the Gryffindor common room.
Save for a wheezing armor or a whispering painting here and there, silence shrouded Hogwarts. Nearly all students and staff seemed to have retired to their common rooms and offices for the night, even though there was still some time until curfew.
Whistling to himself, Sirius rounded a corner, finding the courtyard as empty as the rest of the castle he'd walked through. A thick layer of clouds, threatened rain heavying its underside, concealed the moon from his view, plunging the castle into further gloom. Without any form of natural light, the castle appeared more surreal than usual; the flames flickering in their ornate candelabras only added to the sombre yet eerie nature of the evening.
He crossed the courtyard swiftly, barely heeding where his footsteps were leading him. After nearly seven years of calling Hogwarts home, he knew it now like the back of his hand, better than he'd ever known his own home. His parents' home, he corrected himself quickly with a shake of his head.
He continued strolling and turning through the corridors of Hogwarts with blind ease, mulling over his words as he neared his destination. The seventh years' transfiguration classroom was located in the East Wing of the castle - a long way from the Gryffindor tower - and hence Sirius found himself a little out of breath by the time the classroom came into his view. Its heavy, carved oak door stood slightly ajar, a beam of golden light escaping the room to pool across the floor before him. When he was close enough, his ears picked up the faint murmurs that sounded from within the room.
Sirius glanced at his watch. It was 8:40 pm.
He hesitated.
You should've first asked McGonagall if she had a minute to spare, Remus' voice rang in his head, showing up unannounced is not the way to go about this, Sirius. The sight of Peter nodding his assent vigorously swarmed before his eyes.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sirius knew Remus and Peter had been right. That he should have sought McGonagall after dinner and asked to speak with her. But an hour ago, when he'd first heard the suggestion, he'd simply sat chuckling over a mouthful of shepherd's pie, so certain that his friends were overthinking everything. It was too late now.
