𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞; The hurt of black sorcerer( 𝘄𝗼𝗹𝗳𝘀𝘁✰𝗿 )

The air inside Azkaban was laden with despair, an oppressive force clinging to the very walls of the ancient fortress. The dementors glided through the corridors, their skeletal forms floating ominously, sucking every ounce of happiness from the air. In the deepest reaches of this forsaken place, Sirius Orion Black languished in a dimly lit cell, his once vibrant spirit dulled by years of imprisonment.
Sirius's physical appearance had transformed during his time in Azkaban. His once curly, wild black hair now hung in greasy tangles around his face, with faint gray strands framing his sunken, hollow cheeks, and his gray irises reflected in an oceanic blue full of pure torment, anger, and desolation, dimmed and sunken into his weary visage. And as he could never separate his mental anguish from his body, his thin, emaciated figure now bore the marks of his suffering and the icy claws of the prison, leaving him with a ghostly pallor. So much so that the same aurors who came to interrogate him occasionally once a week always debated whether it was worth coming back next week, certain that one of these days Black would not wake up from his long dreams of more than 19 consecutive hours, where his soul sometimes wandered far away in search of peace. Sirius, pureblooded raven, wore a prison tunic already in tatters, twice the size that made him appear even smaller than he actually was. The man who was once a proud wizard, blessed by Merlin, mocking and charismatic, now seemed a mere shadow of what he once was before being destroyed by a nearby meteor of blond hair that he once believed in his blind and confident stupidity; he was completely defenseless and inexistent, hostile.
Sirius Black hated, among many other things, his cruel past and nonexistent childhood, and even more so the happy moments within it that made him live to drive him crazy when the dementors would snatch them from his soul. The ebony skin of his phantom and bruised self also hated remembering his best friends, not because there was anything wrong with them, but because in every memory of them, he had that ghostly and hypocritical stain, appearing with a loving smile in those memories that he had managed to save from the dementors thanks to his misery in them when comparing them with the current dry reality, and also, because of the rage and black anger he harbored in each of them.

Sirius Orion Black didn't feel like a human, and not even for his own liking, did he come close to being seen as one.

The cell in which he self-destructed was an immense pit of deep darkness and filth, the only illumination he begrudgingly appreciated for seconds was provided by a weak, flickering torch that gradually dimmed as its magic waned over time with the years of imprisonment.

The cold stone walls seemed to absorb the scant warmth that dared to enter, creating an atmosphere of perpetual chill. The air was saturated with the metallic scent of despair, blood, and excrement, an aroma that clung to Azkaban's very essence, which even surrounded by the fresh sea air, absorbed any sign of possible comfort they might have had and turned it into crap.
Well, perhaps not to such an extreme, because in the third year of his imprisonment, he was blessed or cursed with a companion just as crappy as himself. The man who once regarded him with eyes of death had hair the color of red wine, pale white skin as snow, bony although his large and tall stature was still noticeable. With eyes as black as a black hole in the universe to which Sirius now belonged, and a perpetually egocentric voice that led Sirius to think that perhaps James had been wrong to nickname him >The Lost Son of Narcissus< — curse him, if he were to see this poor devil by his side and hear him muttering curses as he did 24/7, he would think very, very differently, Sirius swore.

Damond Delacour Beauchêne, Sirius's cellmate for eleven long years now, had run a similar fate to the insufferable Sirius Black when he was still in his 20s, and now, in these moments, in the deepest cells of Azkaban, he looked no better than the wretched pureblood of the Noble House of Black. The features of the once-famous healer, once proud and defiant, were now marked with lines of exhaustion and scratches from the thousands of guards who forced him to regurgitate the scant food given to him, or rather specifically, it could be the thousands of daily beatings they gave him, being so generous — damn, note the sarcasm in the sentence, because sarcasm was the only thing still not erased from Beauchêne's mind. Returning to what was once the pride of his entire Delacour family. His hair, this ruined man's hair, remained a reddish, dark wine hue that sometimes Sirius gifted with touches of a couple of bloodstains when they disagreed on days when a piece of bread in their minds turned to gold. His eyes, once in 1982 filled with fire, were now dulled by the monotony of his confinement. Damon, once Beauchêne, once Delacour, was accused of being a filthy Death Eater, just like Sirius was, and their sudden alliance within the prison walls formed in such a spontaneous but warm way from a desperate need to survive, despite the fact that in their initial years of coexistence, they lived to kill each other. Trying to poison each other or beat each other up in their daily fits of rage, because unfortunately for them, neither of them trusted the other. And that's what they thought, until one day in February 1985, one of the guards tortured Damond again to his swift and nearly successful death, for accidentally and in a moment of raw compassion, covering up Sirius Black's desperate escape attempt after he, in his sobbing desperation one of those nights where hunger, anger, and raw despair blinded his judgment, whispered broken things that he didn't deserve to be there, that he loved his family, that he didn't deserve to die, and that the bastard who had betrayed him and taken everything he had was now calm, wrapped up, and warm at Hogwarts, whispering imaginative tortures to the bastard who had betrayed him. Making him lash out against the cells that imprisoned him until they broke and caught the attention of the Dementors and guards, making him catch and torture him instantly if it weren't for Damond's surprising act of kindness.

After that intense moment of compassion that cost Beauchêne an entire month without water or food rations, Sirius allowed himself to trust him little by little. Damon began to let himself be tortured instead of Sirius every time the guards or dementors caught Sirius trying to escape or marking spots that would probably break one day and set them free. Beauchêne was a Slytherin in every sense of the word, so convincing the naive and putrid guards that he was forcing the elder of the ex-Black house to do things so that he could escape with him as his minion and bring him stolen food from other prisoners was no more difficult than taking candy from a child.

And so they became known over the years. In the first few months where they didn't fight, they still saw each other with a bit of distrust. In their fourth year together, they became acquaintances; by the sixth year, accomplices; by the seventh year, friends; and finally, after ten years, they solidified their brotherhood as accomplices and brothers in arms. Damon wouldn't leave there without Sirius, and Sirius wouldn't leave there without Damond.

Thus, after meticulous plans and pacts sealed in the darkness of the night, the long-awaited moment arrived for Sirius Black and Damond Beauchêne. The fateful night of '93 marked the unexpected turn in the monotonous routine of the prison, and for these two ghosts, it represented the stroke of luck so eagerly awaited and necessary to undertake their escape. Darkness enveloped the damp and icy corridors of the dismal prison, while the distant echoes of eerie thunder mixed with the symphony of desperate whispers and the hunger cries emanating from the confines of the prisoners' cells who were already nearing the completion of their sentences. The storm raged ferociously outside the walls, reflecting the turmoil that shook the magical world as a whole. A month before luck finally found them, rumors of the imminent war between Lord Voldemort and the Chosen One, Harry James Potter, spread like a plague among the prisoners, commenting on the difficulties and mistakes the boy was making and how he would die at the hands of that dark wizard, carrying with him the echo of uncertainty and fear.
For Sirius Black, those murmurs were like warnings whispered by the winds of his shattered mind, signals that his godson was in danger and that his only family was preparing for a battle in which he could not participate because he was locked up in that shit prison. The feeling of helplessness consumed him, but it also fueled the flame of determination in his heart. It was time to act, to break the chains that kept him prisoner and to go fight alongside the only light that emerged from one of the few suns that illuminated his path throughout his life, a star as excluded and withered in light as Black.

And just that thought ignited a flame in Sirius's mind that not even the dementors themselves could absorb because the thought of his revelation was not happy at all; it was a twisted painting in red and black hues of anger, courage, and profound sadness.

As the first drops of rain began to fall against the narrow window of the cell, Damon and Sirius exchanged a complicit glance, the black and bluish-gray locking eyes from a distance, each of them huddled in a corner.

The time had come to escape.

The plan, devised through silent conversations and coded messages between rocks and whispers, was about to be set in motion. Sirius, drawing on the deepest reserves of his magical prowess, transformed into his animagus form: a large, black German shepherd, elegant only in his years of youthful vigor. His canine senses sharpened; his hearing, vision, and smell increased considerably as he was now a fully grown adult.

And so it was thanks to this that he noticed there were no walls on the coast, and he waited for the opportune moment while Damon silently retrieved a hidden wand from the folds of his tattered prison jumpsuit.

Outside, the storm had reached its climax; the thunderous whistle of nature drowned out any loud sound that could betray their clandestine activities. Damon, with focused and determined eyes, whispered a charm to dismantle the enchanted locks securing the cell. The metallic noise of the cell door falling open echoed in the confined space with an empty echo that startled them, making them jump in their place.

When they stepped out into the hallway, the air thickened with tension. The distant lamentations of tortured souls resonated through the stone walls, and the flickering lanterns cast eerie shadows that seemed to dance along with the fear that engulfed them. The pair of friends moved silently, a tall dark silhouette and a ghostly low figure, navigating the labyrinth of Azkaban.

Damon, gripping the wand he had acquired through less-than-noble means, felt the cold touch of the polished white wood against his palm. He thought with slight disgust of the fact that the wand had once belonged to a corrupt guard with repugnant inclinations, an older woman whose unwanted sexual advances had attempted to harass Damon, who skillfully avoided her. And how during a particularly brutal encounter, Damon seized the opportunity to disarm the guard and claim the wand as his own. It was a cruel twist of fate when the green light struck the woman's dark chest. But that didn't matter anymore, as this was going to be the tool of power, their key to escape from that endless torment with his dear canine friend.
The tension in the air increased with each step. Their hearts beat to the rhythm of echoing footsteps reverberating through the desolate corridors. As they approached the outer limits of Azkaban, the distant roar of thunder masked the sounds of their escape. With his wand now in hand, Damond cast disillusionment charms to shield them from the watchful eyes of the Dementors and hide their footsteps from the guards sleeping at the entrance of that hellish place.

The duo reached the outer perimeter, where the mossy cliffs plummeted into the turbulent sea. The dark storm unleashed its fury, providing them with complete cover for their escape. Rain lashed the rocky cliffs, and the salty spray mingled with the oppressive air. With a final glance at the prison that had kept them captive for too long, Damond silently apparated with Sirius in his animagus form by his side.

The pair apparated onto the desolate cliffside with trepidation, the sheer cliffs of Azkaban towering high and imposing, perhaps created by demons themselves. With sharp stone peaks ready to impale any lucky suicide, with relentless waves that absorbed all hope.

The night was still shrouded in darkness, and the echoes of the storm continued to resonate in the salty air. Damond, wand at the ready, tousled his hair and surveyed the surroundings while Sirius shook the water from his soggy fur, the raindrops dispersing like diamonds in the faint moonlight.

"...Are you ready, Black? After this, death will seek us in every corner of the magical world. And if we get caught, death will be our only way back." Damond Beauchêne murmured hoarsely, gazing into the void with an expression of internal revulsion and fear so deep that he frightened himself, and even more so for the decisions he was making. Sirius looked at him in his animagus form before transforming into a human, his gray eyes reflecting their blue hues more strongly. "Believe me, Beauchêne, I will die with a smile if that son of a bitch Peter dies in agony." His voice broke for a moment. "And... And if Harry is saved from all this shit, I will finally be at peace. I gave up my life years ago, Dai, I renounced love, everything and everyone. I only live to avenge that bastard and fulfill the oath I made to Prongs and Lily. I will not rest until I have his blood on my hands. Only then, only after that, will I die in peace." Black decreed, his jaw now clenched, his auburn curls moved weakly against the force of the salty wind reddening his nose and eyes.

Damond snorted with a wrathful and slightly amused laugh. With a squeeze to his friend's bony shoulder, he smiled. "Then let's do it, Black." Beauchêne murmured, quickly undressing after finishing that sentence; his plan required a bold escape, and as they approached the cliff's edge, the tension mounted, and the sea looked ominously fierce, so they had to be lighter than a feather.

"Man, do I have to do everything for you?" Damond suddenly lamented, trying to joke and lighten the mood when he saw Sirius about to cry like a scared child for not even having a little strength to undress himself. Sirius, for a moment, looked at him from under his lashes with a totally false and trembling reassuring smile, so Damond, feeling sorry for him, hurried to vanish the clothes of the short man beside him. The tumultuous sea below roared, crashing against the rocks with relentless force. The wind howled, carrying with it the smell of salt and desperation. With a shared look of determination, Sirius and Damon jumped into the unknown. Their hearts leaped into their mouths. And the cold water enveloped them, mercilessly pounding their lungs, stripping them of air and blood, dragging them into the depths before they resurfaced quickly amid a slight choked cough.

Sirius, now in his animagus form, swam with all the strength he could muster towards his red-haired friend. Damond, floating a few inches away from him, almost unconscious, completely dizzy, and with his vision still blurry, quickly evaluated his situation as a sharp pain spread rapidly along his spine and abdomen. And when he gave himself the green light, he raised his wand and moved it swiftly, conjuring up a small improvised vessel that didn't turn out exactly as he intended, but it would suffice: A raft, buoyant, brown, and lightweight but fragile made of wood and a bit of fabric floating on the turbulent waves.

"Damn it, damn it. Curse it, it's the only spell I remember, sorry Black. It's too damn small even for someone like you or me," Beauchêne apologized, and with a low groan from his heavy body, he climbed aboard the somewhat small vessel while Sirius continued to swim towards him with one of his bad paws. Worried, Damond threw a furtive glance at the small vessel rocking in the water beneath him. It was their only means of escape from the prison to the nearest island, but its size left much to be desired, almost only accommodating him. The makeshift boat strained against the raging sea, threatening to capsize with each tumultuous wave, sending them back to where they belonged.

In a bold and urgent move, Damond tossed the stolen wand from his hands into the depths of the ocean. It disappeared beneath the waves, leaving only long ripples to mark its descent into the abyss of the sea. Beauchêne knew that holding onto it would only serve as a beacon for their pursuers. The stolen tool of power was sacrificed to the unpredictable sea, and he knew he had done the right thing, ensuring that it couldn't turn against them and certainly not cause any dispute by trying to use it in their agonizing journey.

Without the wand, Damond refocused on the task at hand. His eyes met those of Sirius, now a dog again, and without speaking a word, they both understood the gravity of their situation. The storm continued, and it wouldn't stop for a while; the tumultuous sea remained equally terrifying, with creatures they personally didn't want to encounter. And not to mention the prison because it was more than obvious that they only had a few minutes or half an hour at best before their escape was noticed. All of this mixed together provided them with a chaotic blow to their reasoning, despairing them by the second. Still, they ignored it once again because the two of them had nothing more to lose in this life.

Damond climbed onto the improvised raft, with Sirius at his side, holding one of the oars firmly in his other hand. He signaled with his head to Sirius to get closer to him and create a balance, realizing with slight exasperation and pain the vulnerability of being exposed in open waters, and even more so with Sirius, his friend, in his canine form, which unnerved him excessively due to being overly bony and lacking flesh. As Sirius drew closer, Damond's wandless spells stabilized the fragile vessel with light charms that resurfaced in his memory as if they knew he needed them at that moment, making it sturdy enough to transport them through the treacherous waves of the darkened sea in a familiar black.

Finally, Sirius, now transformed back into his human form, completely naked, grabbed another of the oars from the raft, still wanting to help, and his muscles barely bigger than a small and stretched plum, water dripping from his soaked prison jumpsuit that Damond had forced him to put back on. How had Damond managed to keep only Sirius's jumpsuit and not his own property? Sirius could never guess. The vessel wobbled under the weight of both men moving on the makeshift boat, but Damond's magical prowess kept it together and leveled again, Beauchêne almost sure that his magic would abandon him at any moment and he wouldn't be able to maintain the boat as it was. He trapped Sirius's smooth, thin thigh with a light fuzz to keep him close. Distant lightning illuminated their faces, revealing expressions clouded by fear, anxiety, and unwavering determination to escape from the clutches of Azkaban.
With one last look at the desolate cliffs of the prison, Damond pointed his hand towards the horizon. A silent incantation slipped from his lips, conjuring a spectral sail that fluttered in the wind at inhuman speeds. The small enchanted boat began its journey into open sea, sailing through the stormy waves.

Sirius, still catching his breath, stared fixedly at the silhouette fading away from Azkaban, quickly becoming a mere speck in the distance blurred in green, brown, and gray. The culmination of all his years of suffering in that hellish place, and the release from its grip, unleashed a wave of emotions within him. Thick tears that had been repressed for years in the depths of his soul now flowed freely from his eyes. He let out a primal and cathartic sob, a mixture of sadness, relief, and the raw emotion of newfound freedom echoing over the stormy sea that carried them to their destination.

Damond, with eyes reflecting the same tumultuous emotions, reached out a trembling hand to rest it on Sirius's shoulder. "We did it, Padfoot! Damn idiot! We freaking did it! We did it!" He suddenly shouted, bursting into tearful laughter, his voice tinged with disbelief and astonishment.

Sirius nodded and hugged him tightly, smiling at the still-gray sky above their heads, raindrops slightly blurring his vision, the raven unable to find words to express the overwhelming wave of emotions washing over him. He tightly gripped Damond's hand, their fingers intertwining in a silent pledge of friendly solidarity as they pressed their foreheads together, laughing in disbelief.

"I hope this isn't another hallucination, Dai... It scares me," Sirius whispered to Damond, his voice a plea for protection and comfort, his tone broken and blind in pain. "No... I couldn't bear it if you and this, if this freedom we finally got, were false and created by my head. If I wake up again in that cell, I swear I might... I might end it all... I... I couldn't..." The raven finally sobbed, feeling Damond's large, bony hands wiping his tears away and cradling his face affectionately.

The view from Damond's perspective on Sirius was quite heartbreaking and sad; Sirius Black looked so small in front of him, so much so that it reminded him of himself a few years younger and fearing his own shadow. Sirius, he felt Sirius completely terrified, weak, almost lifeless in his eyes, trembling and silently begging him to hold onto his sanity or he would be lost amid the sea of emotions that his mental whirlwind gave him daily. Damond sighed and enveloped him in his slender arms, wanting to sob internally with strength as he felt the bones of Sirius's small anatomy in his arms. "Don't think stupid thoughts, Black, besides, idiot. You'll be an idiot, huh? How dare you think this is a product of your mind? It offends me too much to think that in your poor hallucination, you'd make me look this ugly. At the very least, if it's a hallucination, Padfoot, imagine me in my golden age. Strong, handsome, rich, and even more beautiful than anyone else. And clearly cooler than you," Damond murmured softly. Sirius chuckled dryly for a moment and then sank into Damond's broad, warm shoulder with a hoarse laugh.

"Damn son of a bitch, I'm being serious and you come off as egotistical again. I can't stand you, really," Sirius said amidst laughter that sounded anything but normal, reluctantly clutching his nonexistent abdomen due to the stomach pain caused by his own laughter, and moving away from his tall friend. He smiled at himself, instantly reciprocated by Damond.
As the small boat continued its journey into the unknown, navigating the treacherous waves with renewed determination, Sirius and Damond shared rare moments of pure, unadulterated joy. They laughed with absolute delight, their laughter mingling with the sounds of the sea and the distant thunderous roar. Sometimes, when Sirius fell off the small boat and swam back to it with snot dripping from his nose, Damond simply laughed at the sight, and Sirius, proud of his appearance and other things, would climb back onto the boat with a force coming from all his muscles, pushing Damond and making him wobble, still laughing at Sirius now floating on the dark water.
The days between their naps or nightly chats cuddled in each other's arms quickly turned into nights, and nights into days as they sailed back to Britain. The sea gradually calmed down, its tumultuous surface giving way to a tranquil expanse of blue blending into a shimmering sky blue with fish and some reefs showing slightly ahead of them. For a month and seventeen days, Sirius and Damon traveled through the open ocean, disembarking and embarking on different islands in search of information and guidance, their hunger gnawing at them but also keeping them sane... as much as clearly possible for Azkaban escapees like them.
Finally, on the seventeenth day, the distant shores of Britain came into view. With their bodies weary from the rigors of their escape, they huddled together again for warmth when they had to embark again after being informed that they were close to the English coast, occasionally separating to drink water only when the rain showed them a few hours of mercy and filled their stomachs just a bit.
An adrenaline rush coursed through their veins as they steered the boat towards land, their hearts beating with anticipation.
Upon disembarking from their small boat, Damond and Sirius didn't even secure it; they simply stumbled across the warm sand between their toes, their feet sinking ankle-deep into the wet sand of the blue coast, relief washing over them like a wave of pure happiness. They had finally reached the safety of land, ensuring them that further inland, in the distant paths of their earthy roads and forests, they would find fruits and animals to eat that weren't the fish that had slipped through Damond's and Sirius's hands more times than they cared to count on the sea.
But their journey was far from over.
Both men, the redhead and the raven-haired, traversed the outskirts of various places, staying in the shadows of their alleys or houses abandoned by the war and avoiding being detected at all costs by the guards or Aurors who plastered their faces drawn in a macabre way with a big >>WANTED<< at the top. Every noise, every whisper in the green and floral undergrowth when they left these villages to head to Hogsmeade sent shivers down their spines as they remained alert, with Damond armed again with a stolen wand walking tensely and holding Sirius in front of him. He knew more protection spells and was more skilled than him, making sure at the same time that if for some reason Sirius fainted again, he could quickly catch him without him falling to the ground splattered on rocks and grass smelling of excrement and mud. Both of their senses, and specifically Sirius's thanks to his Animagus condition, remained a secret for the moment.
But despite the dangers lurking around every corner, Sirius and Damon continued forward, admiring every little thing no matter how minimal it was on their journey as if it were the last time they would see it in their lives. Sometimes, Damond stole items of clothing and gave the warmest ones to Sirius, aware that he was weaker than him physically. For at times, the mere whiff of wind from a house with freshly cooked food made him vomit from the excess of smells.

Driven by unwavering determination to reclaim part of their lives, they tried to succumb to Sirius's broken humor and Beauchêne's sarcastic personality, which corresponded to the raven-haired man's jokes with cruel sarcasm at times. Their laughter, one more rare than the other due to their vocal cords once tortured by screams in Azkaban, echoed throughout the magical forest of a village near Hogsmeade, Teberdun, a small settlement that lived within the same forest. Its inhabitants were so disheveled that when they saw them, they only looked at them suspiciously and let them go on their way.

And when they finally set foot on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, the tears of these two men flowed again, but this time, they were tears of triumph. They embraced fiercely, and Sirius was lifted by Damond's arms, which in those two and a half months had gained more thickness, just like Sirius, who was recovering little by little, although he was still equally weak and somewhat bony. "We're finally here, Canuto! Finally!" murmured Damond with a wide grin from ear to ear, and Sirius looked at him with brotherly affection, smiling with his eyes turning into crescents. "Oh, of course, we made it, after all, my knowledge of spells is innate," Sirius Black replied. Damond raised one of his thick wine-colored eyebrows and snorted, letting him go. "Sure, just your knowledge, huh?" Sirius stuck out his tongue and ran off in his Animagus form, barking with joy. Damond followed, just walking, though somewhat offended, though of course, it was in jest. Their sturdy bodies trembling under the weight of their shared journey, their souls bound by the unbreakable bonds of friendship and survival that they both forged by giving their lives to escape from that blue and black hell.

The world outside of Azkaban could have been a chaotic symphony of destruction, with the houses of thousands of children and wizard families destroyed by war and chaos on every corner of it, but for Sirius and Damond, that village of terror and agony was a green and beautiful paradise in its purest and happiest state because although they didn't compare their pain with that of those lying in those lands, they two preferred this hell a thousand times over the other where death could be instantaneous or the next day.

As they approached the outskirts of Hogwarts, they looked with slight affection and nostalgia at the quaint cottages and bustling market square, a beacon of civilization in the wilds of Hogsmeade. Sometimes, Damond would point one out and tell Damond how he had saved a sick witch or wizard there. Sirius would only look at him and give him a smile full of pain and the purest pride, murmuring that one day he would return to his workplace with his head held high and being the best mediwizard people had ever known. Damond would laugh in his face and tighten his grip around his precious friend's shoulders. A day, again full of hiding and crowds looking at them with suspicion and curiosity.

Damond's stomach growled audibly as they passed by a bakery in the area where the owner, Madame Rose, handed freshly baked pastries to some lady from the area. The sweet aroma of vanilla, coconut shavings, and bitter chocolate covering tempted the stomachs of the two older men. "I don't know about you, but I could eat something other than the stale apples falling from these trees," Sirius commented, his bluish-gray eyes now shinier, eagerly stopping at the display of pastries in the window.

Damond smiled, his hunger reflecting Black's. "Alright, Canuto. Let's see what we can find, although you could just go in as a dog and carry that bag of loaves and bring them to our hideout, you know?" Damond suggested, but seeing Sirius hang his head in shame, he knew he had messed up again because Sirius hadn't been able to transform into his Animagus form for thirteen days now, and Damond had been counting the days because Sirius always cried when he realized this or simply avoided his gaze like now.

The redhead man, dressed only in a worn-out sweater and some strange fabric pants he found around, sighed, making his way to another stall with Sirius following closely and alert.

They both ventured into the bustling market square where the itinerant vendors offered their products. There was no honor in stealing from an itinerant vendor, but they no longer owed honor to anyone of those who still believed in the putrid ministers of the magical government and in... Dumbledore. Damond's black eyes scanned the vendors' stalls for any sign of possible sustenance. The redhead, hungry man didn't take long to notice a box of ripe, plump apples next to an old lady shouting at the top of her lungs to buy from her or never in their lives would they taste such delights. The vibrant colors called to them like precious gems to greedy pirates.

Without hesitation, Damond passed by the stall with Sirius waiting quietly in the darkness of an uncrowded alley due to his bad reputation. The tall redhead quickly took two apples from the box, his fingers closing around the firm pulp with a sense of satisfaction. "A little snack to pass the time..." he said to himself under his breath, going towards his raven-haired friend and tossing one to Sirius.

Sirius caught the apple skillfully, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "Better than the vomit mixed with potatoes and saliva from the cooks we were given in Azkaban, that's for sure, Dai."

They continued their way through the village, their steps light and vigilant while savoring the simple pleasure of fresh air and freedom. Villagers cast curious glances in their direction when, occasionally, the wind betrayed them and lowered their makeshift ragged hoods a bit, but Sirius and Damond paid them no mind, their focus centered on the task at hand of reaching Hogwarts and entering without being seen by that giant and his creatures from the Forbidden Forest.

Turning a corner, they came across a small grocery store, its shelves filled with a variety of provisions such as vests, lanterns, weapons, potions of dubious origin, and food. With a shared glance, they knew what they had to do.

Damond slipped into the store, his movements quick and silent as he stole a leather bag filled with items he had no knowledge of and a wedge of cheese from the shelves. Meanwhile, Sirius kept watch outside, ensuring that the store owner didn't return unexpectedly, his senses alert for any sign of trouble.

Minutes later, Damond emerged from the store, a triumphant smile on his symmetrical face as he displayed his stolen goods in front of a amused Sirius, who pushed him in the chest to stop him from showing off and urged him to leave. "Dinner is served, pup," he declared, raising the bread and cheese even more so Sirius could see them.

Sirius laughed, his bluish-gray eyes shining with amusement. "It's not exactly a feast fit for a king, Dai. But yes, I suppose it will do," he replied, reaching out to take his share of the loot, and when Damond raised it above his head with smugness, Sirius punched him in the grumpy stomach. "Stop begging me for your Neanderthal giant height. Better go predict the weather for the guys around here, idiot," Sirius muttered, now again in a bad mood. Damond smiled with slight annoyance and refrained from returning the blow to his friend, just because he knew Sirius would vomit on him since his small stomach was still recovering from years of poor nutrition in Azkaban. Then, sharing jokes and light shoves that ended with Sirius making a drama and Damond pretending to be indifferent, they withdrew to a secluded spot on the outskirts of the village, their improvised meal being a welcome respite from the trials of their journey until they reached Harry Potter. As they sat side by side, sharing bread and cheese under the setting sun's light, they couldn't help but marvel at the simple joys that once seemed so out of their reach. The meadow around them was a vibrant green, with dandelions scattered around that disintegrated at the slightest breeze, the roses and fruits of the season on some trees were among the leaves and also the forest floor, the birds resonated in their nests, and the bushes sheltered them from being seen by any curious onlookers. Not to mention the clean and fresh breeze, Sirius felt at home again, and Damond allowed himself to sleep for a few hours before being awakened by a Sirius again hungry and a little less thirsty thanks to the good amount of water he drank from that small stream that flowed just seventy centimeters away.

For Sirius and Damon, this moment of fraternal affection was a testament to their resilience, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still light to be found. And as they watched the sun set below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the tranquil countryside, they knew that no matter the trials that lay ahead, they would face them together.

After their first few days on solid ground, Sirius and Damon found themselves at a crossroads of rocky paths and darker greens where the shadows of evening began to lengthen into a dimly lit blue filled with stars, and the whisper of the wind brought with it the fresh scent of the countryside, surely that path leading them to the forbidden forest. Near the grand Hogwarts castle, which could be seen in the distance as imposing and beautiful as in the days when the name of Sirius's group echoed on every corner, "The Marauders" or "Prongs, Remus, Padfoot, and... Peter," those names that had been buried in the beyond of Sirius's memory. That indestructible castle that took Sirius's breath away more and more each time. They had shared the first stage of their journey back, but now they faced individual decisions that could define the course of their path together.

The air was filled with palpable tension as they exchanged meaningful glances, the blue and black merging into silent questions of waiting and pain. Sirius, burdened by his past where he had been abandoned, betrayed, and wounded, looked at Damond with fear and wide eyes, together with the uncertainty of the future weighing on his shoulders. Black struggled to maintain a stoic expression of utter boredom on his pale face, but flashes of anxiety shone in his light bluish-gray eyes. Damond, for his part, showed a steadfast determination mixed with a shadow of doubt and his well-known, to Sirius, protection that always pointed towards Sirius in moments when they had to separate even if it was minimally like now. He was aware of the challenges they would face in their search because each would have to find what they had come to find after so much crying and suffering in those rotten bars in the great prison of demons, called Azkaban. Damond took a deep breath and placed the provisions bag on a tense Sirius who looked at him with furrowed eyebrows and a tense jaw.

"What do you plan to do now, Sirius? You know... You know that I have to search for her, damn it. Then I will go to you, you know... right?" Damond affirmed and asked at the same time, breaking the earthy silence with his firm but concerned voice. It was evident that the newly found freedom was uncharted territory for both of them, an empty glass that was so thin that with the slightest movement of wind or water inside it would break definitively. Their previous peaceful and colorful days turned today into a complex panorama of possibilities and dangers.

Sirius contemplated Damond's question for a long moment where the tall red-haired man felt he was going to growl with impatience if he didn't receive an answer at that moment, his mind spinning with the options and risks that lay before him if Sirius said he needed him by his side, because Damond knew deep down that he would not refuse to put his search aside and be the support that his friend might or might not need at this time. Sirius moved a couple of his stiff black curls behind his ear gruffly. "I think I'll look for a safe place to hide for a while," he finally responded, his tone calm but determined. "There's a hideout I know well, it won't be far and... and well, with the perfect don bag," Sirius looked at him ugly for a second, which partly relieved Damond's guilt for having to leave him. "And well, besides being safe, I won't have to go out for food in days. But, what about you? What do you plan to do? Apart from looking for her."

Damond frowned, lost in his own thoughts. "I need to find some people who I know will help me, of course if they don't require their throats sunk in my hands at dawn for having betrayed me that day..." Sirius trembled slightly at Damond's hostile and deep tone, feeling only a little pity for those poor souls who had dared to betray a martyr who by fate's twists and turns ended up in the clutches of dementors. "Maybe I'll also go to some contacts who can help me or maybe I'll try to get some money," he explained, his voice firm but filled with determination. "It's not easy to start over after being in Azkaban, but I have to try, especially if I find her, Padfoot."
Sirius nodded understandingly and hugged his devilishly thin-waisted friend, acknowledging Damond's bravery in facing the challenge of going after that woman despite all the damage done and still, after all, going and trying to give her his help. "I understand, Dai. Go and do what you need to do. I'll manage on my own for now."

They bid farewell with another hug, even more laden than the previous one, where Sirius's feet didn't touch the ground beneath him and his face was crushed between the shoulders of his strong friend, the comforting warmth of their friendship serving as a beacon of hope amidst the darkness surrounding them, warming and tickling their souls. Damond placed a hand on Sirius's lower back, conveying a message of silent solidarity. "See you in three days, Padfoot. Don't leave that place or I'll tear your legs off when you manage to turn into a dog if I don't find you. And don't worry." Damond messed up his friend's dirty hair amid hoarse laughter. "You know I'll be fine."

Sirius nodded simply, although, a shadow of intense concern persisted in his gaze still hidden and now suffocated in Damond's broad chest. "Dai... Just please, take care of yourself. Man. I'll be waiting for you."

With that last remark, they parted ways, each immersed in their own thoughts and emotions as they ventured into the unknown path that lay before them, each going in a different direction, aware that if they looked back again, they would regret it and never part ways again, but they had to fulfill the promises they made when they still felt alive and full... So they denied their own desires and walked with more determination, Sirius let slight tremors of fear shake his body as he continued to deepen now into the green forbidden forest. As the sun set on the horizon, tinting the sky with golden and pink hues again, Sirius delved into his reflections, wondering what destiny had in store for him, what little Harry would think of him... Maybe would he resemble his father a lot? That idea thrilled him, to see a mini Prongs with his personality or maybe would he resemble his mother more? Lily was the wave in those times, like a fire flower, like a phoenix among many simple and white lilies. Would Harry be like James or would he have Lily's cordial and mature personality, or would he be a confusing super mixture of both? Would he kill him instead of listening to him when he stood in front of the boy? Sirius felt terribly overwhelmed. And clinging to the hope of a future where freedom and peace could finally be his again, he refused to sink into despair again as he hugged himself feeling small and completely alone, again. Black tried to steer his mind to a happier light but failed.

Nothing of his happiness was with him at the moment, so with only Damond probably staying away... Sirius wanted to go to the prison again. He was so confused and hurt. Was it his fault his little brother died? Would Prongs hate him for letting him die and not taking care of Harry? Did Moony still love him? Did Mary still go to her usual place to smoke and eat donuts?

These questions never had a simple answer for him.

As Sirius ventured deeper and deeper into the forest, memories. The damned and cruel memories began to attack him again like a seed planted in his head and still growing, the weight of the specters of people he saw in every corner of the forest almost becoming unbearable to see, and at times he wanted to scream Damond's name to come back for him, fearing that his sanity was again giving him hallucinations, but instead of that, he just let himself fall to the ground at times and sobbed like a child hitting the ground while biting the fabric of his ragged coat forcefully, wrapping himself in an atmosphere of deep sadness and guilt screaming to the wind begging for forgiveness that would never be given. Every twisted tree and every shadow that lengthened under the dying light of the sun evoked images of the past, of the stupid and ridiculous past, provoking a whirlwind of emotions that threatened to drown him in the abyss of those thoughts.

⪼⪼

"Come on, James, don't be such a chicken, jump! Jump!" shouted a sixteen-year-old Sirius with his dark hair waving in the wind and a mischievous smile lighting up his face, impossible not to notice among the beautiful white flowers of the forest. His gray eyes, sparkling with a mix of mischief and determination, seemed to contain a universe of secrets and adventures waiting to be discovered. "Oh, shut it, Padfoot, I'll jump when my damn butt itches!" responded a cheerful fifteen-year-old James Potter with unruly ebony hair, who was now on the edge of a tall gray rock almost crumbling amidst the gentle currents of the cool blue river. At his side and a little further back was a chubby Peter Pettigrew who looked at them with adoration, and beyond him, Lily Evans, the lovely redhead of their group, who watched them with reproach and a subtle smile full of joy. All the Marauders were there in the depths of the forest, taking turns to take a dip in the refreshing water as the river below them was deep and icy cold, always challenging each other to jump in and submerge for at least ten full minutes. Obviously, they never succeeded, but it was their way of having fun together without anyone feeling excluded for liking different activities than the ones they usually did together.

Lily and Marlene, a petite blonde with black obsidian eyes and a huge feline smile, would emerge from the cold river water with much hunger and would produce thousands of sandwiches and sweets made by a sweet house-elf and some chocolates that reminded her of someone specific whenever she devoured them alone. Remus would join them after finishing rereading one of his favorite books called "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee. Moony would eat some chocolates that Mary would give him after messing up his already messy brown hair, and then a content Remus would go lie back under the tree of white and red flowers. Sirius, a little blushy and lost in how perfect his boyfriend was, would timidly watch from a distance with so much affection that Mary's sweets would envy him, for Moony was a boy whose presence anywhere he went radiated always a unique blend of mystery, seriousness, and tenderness at the same time that certainly captivated all those around him or who had the fortune to know him. Remus, currently reclined against the tree of unknown providence, with his soft brown hair, observed the distant mountains of the forest, losing himself in his own thoughts and being ignorant or perhaps not, of the lost look of a short Sirius Black who at fifteen already wanted to give his boyfriend of only two years a ring. Sirius Orion Black couldn't help but fall for Remus John Lupin because in every universe, in every star or moonlit night, they reunited, whether in the form of constellations of a love as sweet and pure as light, or in the form of some hidden flower, intertwined with each other and hidden from any human who wanted to trample them. Remus was so beautiful in Sirius's eyes.

The softness of his tan skin still left Sirius's hands tingling from a distance as he remembered again and for the third time that day the physical characteristics of his boyfriend. Sirius would think about that skin again and smile at the thought that it was speckled with tiny and almost imperceptible brown dots that no one but him, James, and Peter knew about. There were also those moles under the lip and beside the edge of the wolfman's jaw painted in long or short scars of an extra pale brown like a striped kitten, also Moony had a small incipient beard of light brown color, which only served to highlight his manly and attractive appearance. And his lips... barely curved in a shy but warm smile, they invited to get lost in them, in the promise of sweetness and comfort they seemed to offer, colored in a peachy pink hue, which shone when they were moistened between Sirius's warm lips, and then turned into a beautiful and maddening red that brought the raven-haired lover to his knees every time they devoured each other in kisses in the Gryffindor common room.

But what captivated Remus the most for Sirius was his calm and serene presence, which radiated a sense of security and protection. Like a great silent and vigilant wolf, always attentive to the dangers lurking in the darkness while surrounding you with his large furry body, protecting you from all the bad in the world.

Moony's voice was so sweet, deep, and melodious, it had the power to calm internal storms and awaken dormant emotions. Every word that came out of his lips seemed to be imbued with wisdom and compassion, as if he had lived a thousand lives and knew the deepest secrets of the universe.

But the most captivating thing about Remus was his heart, so big and generous that it seemed to encompass the entire universe. His love for those he considered his family was unconditional and eternal, a burning fire that never went out, even in the darkest moments. In his brown eyes, shone the light of a pure and innocent soul, capable of healing deep wounds and guiding through the densest darkness. He was the most sensible and mature Marauder of the group. Who, now, lay in front of them watching with some disapproval the nonsense they were committing between splashes and gurgles of water while rolling his beautiful eyes with boredom and slight amusement. For better or for worse, he was the one who planned these outings. Although, deep down Remus only did it so that his smiling ebony-curled boyfriend would smile just like he was doing now, and Remus only watched him as a faithful believer of his beloved star.

"Hey Padfoot, we gotta go, we need to get back to classes!" Remus would shout from a distance with a slight laugh, seeing how grumpy his cute boyfriend had become after losing to Lily Evans in a short race to see who reached the shore first. And also, Remus would smile slightly enchanted to see how Sirius's white cheeks would turn a deep red when, playing with him, he would wrap one of his tan arms around the wetter of the two, Remus would tell him to stop acting like a Virgin with him, and both would laugh embarrassed by it and Remus's cruel joke about Sirius's shyness. Both would then be called by the others already dressed in the group, both would share a tender Eskimo kiss and quickly join the group. Knowing that after reaching the castle, they would end up taking a shower with them naked and hot inside it, making love as they both liked until Sirius simply sobbed on his shoulder with his thighs trembling between the brown man's hands whispering to him to go to sleep or he would die and Remus would now really end up in Azkaban, and not because of his lycanthropy. Remus would take him to the Gryffindor dormitories after affectionately calling him a total drama queen, he would dress him and kiss him all over his face and body while Sirius let out hoarse giggles, taking him by the waist. Then Sirius would push him onto the bed and they would do it again just because they could and because Sirius dressed in his large sweaters covered in his scent and with his curls wet from the water was an image that instantly became pure Viagra for Remus, and Sirius, who was a young man with a sexual appetite for his boyfriend bigger than Albus Dumbledore's belly after devouring three honey and cream tarts. Then both amidst a tangle of naked skins and soft kisses with sweet whispers, they would murmur to each other the funniest parts of the day, Remus would laugh out loud when he heard Sirius exposing poor James who had peed out of fear in the river when he brushed against a branch there. Sirius would admire him delighted and snuggle closer again, eager to get more of his moon.

"I love you, Moony, I'm sure I'll never stop..." Sirius would whisper, planting sweet kisses around his boy's mouth. Remus, with a smile that wouldn't fit on his face, would shed a few tears feeling so loved and would tell him that he didn't deserve it. Both would end up falling asleep in each other's warm arms. Hoping to wake up tomorrow and have a new day full of fun and love.

⪻⪻

Sirius, with his trembling lips, smiled with a wounded expression at the beautiful memory, and sobbed deeply when his chest tightened horribly. His lips tasted the salty tears of his torment, and without fear, he ran with all his strength, seeing the river of his memories at a short distance and plunging into it without hesitation, with anger and frustration. Swimming in the river, he tried to reach the depths again, but once more, just like in his memories, he couldn't do it. So, he just stayed there, floating with his prison clothes clinging to his body and his coat sinking into the dreaded river.

Sirius looked once again at the sun, which now no longer seemed warmer than that rosy smile on his Moony's face in his memories. Moony, Remus, moon, love—all those nicknames belonging to one person who must now have a happy life without him in it. The whispers of the wind through the branches seemed to carry echoes of James and Lily's laughter on their first dates, where Mary and the other boys sitting on the green grass of the forest would tease them, and he and Peter would pave the way with magic roses or prepare picnics for the enamored couple to feel romantic without the professors ruining the mood.

The leafless trees in a dark green shade reminded Black of past conversations between small kisses and a scent of chocolate, smoke, and old books that, for a moment, he thought he had smelled around the forest and near the river... Where even now his lamentable figure floated, totally gone, with tears that wouldn't stop falling down his reddened cheeks, almost like one of those patients in the St. Mungo's asylum who had no awareness of anything and only saw the white walls of the place, hoping to find something to hold on to in their heads. And Sirius wanted to curse himself and mock himself at the same time when he remembered that once, in his arrogant innocence, he and his parents, Regulus, Bella, and Narcissa, in their ignorance, had mocked them and their alleged madness.

Oh, the cruelty of the mocking fate.

Now he was like one of them, broken, with his sanity out of reach, living on memories and echoes of voices that were no longer in this world. And Sirius, facing the late revelation that he was nothing more than a Black to the magical world and his former friends and almost non-existent family, screamed so heartbreakingly that the forest became silent in an instant, perhaps respecting the pain of an innocent wizard who had lost everything just for a vote of confidence that he still repudiated to this day. Sirius screamed, and he screamed until his throat burned. His lips trembled, and he hyperventilated, beside himself.

Aware that he still had something to fulfill before finally being able to surrender to his obvious destiny, he swam to the shore, where he dragged himself onto the grass, curling up into a bony and small ball to embrace himself while whispering that it wasn't his fault that Prongs died, that it wasn't his fault to be a Black, that he wasn't a Black, that it wasn't his fault that his little brother died, that it wasn't his fault that Harry grew up without parents, that none of this or Remus's loneliness was his fault. But he couldn't hear himself, so he hit and scratched himself while the crimson red of his blood merged entirely with his previous wounds, and he cursed the day of his birth, the day his parents got married, and the disgusting day when Wabulrga thought it was a good idea to spare his life.

After minutes of self-loathing and continuous headache, now also of skin, Sirius Black emerged from the river, walking so slowly that he almost reached the Shrieking Shack by nightfall, each lush corner reminding him of his warmer, brighter, and happier times when he, the love of his life, and his brothers had roamed these same forests and homely house because although before and now it still seemed like an abandoned dump to them, it once meant a home. Nestled in its old, musty walls were memories free of worries and responsibilities, planning pranks, or simply hanging out and getting sentimental on rare occasions when their lives became even more complicated or when the war had fully erupted.

But now, those laughs echoed like a distant memory in his mind, filled with painful disdain for what once was and would never be again.

With every step, the feeling of loneliness became more overwhelming, embedded in the sensitive chest of the once self-proclaimed invincible Black, enveloping his heart with a layer of ice threatening to freeze it completely. He clung to himself tightly, seeking solace in his own cold and lonely embrace, while memories continued to mercilessly assail him, each one more painful than the last, and he only, for once, wished they would be erased from his mind. He wanted to throw himself many times against one of the cliffs he knew surrounded Hogwarts and were close to his destination, but his heart pulled in a straight line towards Harry.

He couldn't leave without Harry, without his godson knowing the truth, he had to know the truth. He had to.

The memories of his normal days at Hogwarts, believe it or not, were the sharpest and most heartbreaking for Sirius. Every tree, every path, reminded him of a hollow and empty echo that laughed at him because everyone he ever loved died by a fate he offered his hand to end, a cruel mockery of what was once the joy of his youth was the heavy weight that wouldn't let him move forward.

As he advanced through the lush forest with the sound of birds around him in the sky, a sense of bewilderment strangely took hold of him. For what sense was there in moving forward when everything he loved had been taken from him? How could he find any kind of peace in a world that had taken away everything that mattered to him? Was it truly his fault all the pain that had spread? The forest around him seemed a maze of familiar shadows, and the scent of someone who had tattooed themselves on his skin before Sirius even realized it danced among them like a hidden path visible only to his nose. The twisted, green, and slightly noisy trees and their elongated shadows reflected Sirius's internal torment. Each step was torture for his body as well, he was no longer strong. He wasn't really old, but he was bony, with a beard full of dirt and disgusting things he didn't want to know about, some rotten teeth, others not, his hair was completely tattered and stiff. And don't even mention his eyes, they were no longer something to be proud of because they carried his inner madness, his sadness, and the black bags under his cheeks that only confirmed once again that he was completely lost. Each breath was a struggle against the agony consuming him from within. But still, he pressed on, his heart pulling, driven by an inner strength that refused to surrender to the darkness surrounding him, almost hitting him to follow that invisible thread and not give up like a coward.

For a moment.

And just for a moment, he believed that invisible thread was James, being as always the sanity of his mind pushing him like a soul without a body behind him, possibly laughing at his vagabond appearance and jumping around him with a Lily challenging him. Sirius imagined for a moment, James old and obedient like a little puppy to his elderly redhead lady who would surely be baking cookies for Harry and his wife. And he chuckled hoarsely, then simply his heart burned and he laughed with more joy openly imagining him as a version of his father Fleamont Potter but more wrinkled, muscular, and with a smile that even the sun would envy.

"Keep guiding me, Prongsie... Because I'm completely lost." Sirius whispered weakly, dragging his feet through the earth, water dripping from his tattered clothes.

The pain of his loss was almost unbearable, but in his heart still burned a small flame of hope with the face of a young man with emerald green eyes, black hair, and a scar in the shape of a curious lightning bolt, a dim but persevering light that guided him forward, towards a future where he would disguise himself as the sun just to light Harry's way as his father did with him when they were kids and Sirius's world was just black.

Under the gentle moonlight filtering through the windows, Sirius found himself enveloped in a wave of warm feelings as he entered the nearly destroyed house. Sirius was sure that Padfoot would explore the Shrieking Shack better if he could gather strength and transform into his animagus form again. Each room seemed to whisper stories of his past again, and he no longer fought to stop them, only accepting them back where they had always belonged. Besides, his heart was so empty that he happily accepted living on the images of his past, of Prongs, Lily, Mary, of Moony. Sirius smiled to himself with rosy cheeks.

In the kitchen, he could see them both cooking together, with Remus gracefully moving between the stoves while Sirius tried to follow his rhythm clumsily, with laughter and jokes filling the air. The aroma of home-cooked meals still lingered in the air, reminding him of the flavors of his youth and the warmth of their shared love. But now, that memory was tinged with sadness, a raw nostalgia that cut through his soul and that the bony black-haired man wished to erase.

In the living room, he saw them both cuddled together in front of the fireplace, sharing confidences and dreams for their future together. The dancing flames in his mind cast dancing shadows on the walls, creating an atmosphere of intimacy and complicity that seemed to seal the kisses and the love they promised to each other in that house. But now. The living room was empty, filled with a deafening silence that resonated in his chest with every beat of his lonely heart.

But it was in the bedroom where the memories were most vivid and palpable. The rumpled sheets and sunken pillows told the story of nights of making love until they both were satiated with their shared hunger for each other and the tenderness of nights where they surrendered to each other without reservations or inhibitions, not having sex but simply cuddling together and kissing until they couldn't feel their lips whispering tender secrets and others not so much. The soft murmur of their words of love still resonated in the air, reminding him of the sweet sound of his old and young voice and the comforting warmth of his embrace over his Moony.

Every corner of the house was imbued with their scents now almost gone on every wall or floor of the place, from the worn walls to the furniture worn by time. Although the pain of his departure still weighed heavily on his heart, he was also filled with gratitude for the precious moments they had shared together in that place, moments he would never forget or abandon ever again, even in the midst of darkness. He could feel peaceful for a few seconds.

There, in the darkness of the night, Sirius surrendered to sleep, wishing with all his being that when he woke up, he would find that his entire life until now had been just a bad dream and that upon opening his eyes, he would be back in his apartment with a letter from James and Lily inviting them to dinner while his serene fiancé kept him warm between his strong and tan arms, both sharing matching sweaters and mugs of hot chocolate in both hands just because Lupin was craving it. Sirius would hide his curly head in his boyfriend's neck, smelling his perfume and body scent. Remus would hug and bite one of his white shoulders while his hands roamed his thighs and hips, and after having breakfast with short morning kisses and some dirty sex on the countertop of their kitchen, he would be surrounded again by his loved ones, by his godson still being a chubby and crying baby. Having back in his life everything he had lost years ago.

And so, in the Shrieking Shack, Sirius fell asleep, trapped in dreams of love that now lay only in the most painful fragments of his broken memory. Embraced with a vacant smile on his bony and old face.

(Si llore escribiendolo. 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻)