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firewhiskeyficTitle:padding into christmas
Author:ayebydan yes
I am of legal drinking age in my region: (yes/no)
Pairing(s)/Characters/Fandom:Sirius Black & Potter Family
Challenge/Prompts used: Graveyard
Summary: In the Winter of 1994, Sirius Black visits the Potter’s graves.
Rating/Warnings:PG-13
Word count: 605
Author's Notes (if any):not any i’m aware of.
The snow is constant over the small Welsh village. From a discolored world, he moves from between the houses until he is opposite the Graveyard. Laughter fills his ears. Children’s laughter as they run through the streets with candy canes. Mother’s shouting cautions that no one calls on ice. Chuckles from fathers as they scoop up shocked children covered in snow and encourage them to run on.
His ears press against his head and he crouches down and moves carefully between the gardens. Slowly. In the shadows.
When the Church bells pull in the Christians and the rest of the town settles down, he sees his chance. The cold chills his paws but he perseveres and makes his way to the Graveyard. On the Muggles Christmas Eve no one notices what appears to be a stray dog crossing into the Graveyard. Finding the grave is difficult. He does not want to disrespect anyone but he has no idea where idea where he is going either. He pads over one grave and the other looking at stones and names. Some are barely big enough to note a name at all.
Sirius never attended the funeral.
When he finally finds their graves he howls and the tears fall down his snout. He paws at the stone as he reads the words and he whines. If he were in his human form he woud curse at how he failed. Failed James. Failed his brother. Failed his godson. But he can’t change anything. Even though it hurts in his belly and his instincts as a dog have him flop before the ston and groan and pain and paw at the stone in pain. It doesn’t change anything. Harry has already faced a Dragon and he has no idea what is to come next but Sirius is damned sure to be there. Even if it means arrest. Even if it means Azkaban.
His godson, their boy, is what matters.
Seeing their graves gives him a purpose, defines once more that his need is Harry, and North is clearly where he must go again. Death doesn’t matter if Harry lives. It is as simple as that, and Sirius regrets that at one time he forgot that.
But he can’t live in the past. The past doesn’t help him and it certainly does not help Harry.
Whimpering, he rolls over from the snow and gets to his feet. He doesn’t belong here in the pas. North. North with Harry.
He skirts away and tries to withhold the cries, the whines, the pads of his feet feeling ever colder as he finds his way to the edge of the village. Tail down, ears pressed closer to his head than ever, he turns around the corner of a cottage and with a shdder and a whine becomes a groan and he is a man.
A crying, broken man. But a man nonetheless.
The stolen wand does not feel so guilty when it helps him help his boy.
Presents are insultingly easy to send. He just wishes he could be there for Harry and give him a Yule. A proper Yule. The Patil girl sounds strange to say the least but he lets it go. First loves are strange but then neither he nor James had to date under the watch of the entire British Wizarding World.
Harry looks awkward with the girl but at least he does not looke unhappy. That is something. In a cold cave in Hogsmeade, Sirius deflates to realise that is enough.
It has to be.
Author:
ayebydan yesI am of legal drinking age in my region: (yes/no)
Pairing(s)/Characters/Fandom:Sirius Black & Potter Family
Challenge/Prompts used: Graveyard
Summary: In the Winter of 1994, Sirius Black visits the Potter’s graves.
Rating/Warnings:PG-13
Word count: 605
Author's Notes (if any):not any i’m aware of.
The snow is constant over the small Welsh village. From a discolored world, he moves from between the houses until he is opposite the Graveyard. Laughter fills his ears. Children’s laughter as they run through the streets with candy canes. Mother’s shouting cautions that no one calls on ice. Chuckles from fathers as they scoop up shocked children covered in snow and encourage them to run on.
His ears press against his head and he crouches down and moves carefully between the gardens. Slowly. In the shadows.
When the Church bells pull in the Christians and the rest of the town settles down, he sees his chance. The cold chills his paws but he perseveres and makes his way to the Graveyard. On the Muggles Christmas Eve no one notices what appears to be a stray dog crossing into the Graveyard. Finding the grave is difficult. He does not want to disrespect anyone but he has no idea where idea where he is going either. He pads over one grave and the other looking at stones and names. Some are barely big enough to note a name at all.
Sirius never attended the funeral.
When he finally finds their graves he howls and the tears fall down his snout. He paws at the stone as he reads the words and he whines. If he were in his human form he woud curse at how he failed. Failed James. Failed his brother. Failed his godson. But he can’t change anything. Even though it hurts in his belly and his instincts as a dog have him flop before the ston and groan and pain and paw at the stone in pain. It doesn’t change anything. Harry has already faced a Dragon and he has no idea what is to come next but Sirius is damned sure to be there. Even if it means arrest. Even if it means Azkaban.
His godson, their boy, is what matters.
Seeing their graves gives him a purpose, defines once more that his need is Harry, and North is clearly where he must go again. Death doesn’t matter if Harry lives. It is as simple as that, and Sirius regrets that at one time he forgot that.
But he can’t live in the past. The past doesn’t help him and it certainly does not help Harry.
Whimpering, he rolls over from the snow and gets to his feet. He doesn’t belong here in the pas. North. North with Harry.
He skirts away and tries to withhold the cries, the whines, the pads of his feet feeling ever colder as he finds his way to the edge of the village. Tail down, ears pressed closer to his head than ever, he turns around the corner of a cottage and with a shdder and a whine becomes a groan and he is a man.
A crying, broken man. But a man nonetheless.
The stolen wand does not feel so guilty when it helps him help his boy.
Presents are insultingly easy to send. He just wishes he could be there for Harry and give him a Yule. A proper Yule. The Patil girl sounds strange to say the least but he lets it go. First loves are strange but then neither he nor James had to date under the watch of the entire British Wizarding World.
Harry looks awkward with the girl but at least he does not looke unhappy. That is something. In a cold cave in Hogsmeade, Sirius deflates to realise that is enough.
It has to be.