First Year
The first few weeks at Hogwarts were strange, but manageable. Different house tables, different schedules, but Hyacinth and Sirius still saw each other often. In the corridors between classes, at the edges of the Great Hall before meals.
One afternoon, as Hyacinth left Potions with a few Slytherins, she spotted Sirius exiting Transfiguration with James and Peter. Instinctively, her gaze sought his, searching for that unspoken understanding they had always shared.
He looked up at her just as James nudged him with an easy grin, saying something that made Sirius smirk. But when their eyes met, his expression flickered with brief hesitation, a hint of familiarity.
Then he turned away.
Hyacinth’s fingers curled around the edge of her sleeve. She wouldn’t let it bother her. Not yet.
-
The Hogwarts library was vast and quiet, the smell of parchment and ink filling the high-ceilinged space. Hyacinth sat at one of the long wooden tables, pouring over her Potions textbook when Sirius suddenly slid into the seat across from her, a crooked grin on his face.
“What’s this? Actual studying?” He propped his chin on his hand, amusement dancing in his gray eyes.
Hyacinth barely looked up. “I take my studies seriously.”
Sirius scoffed. “Of course you do, Slytherin.”
Hyacinth finally glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “You say that like it’s an insult.”
Sirius smirked but said nothing. Instead, he reached into his bag and pulled out his own book.
For a few minutes, they sat in comfortable silence, flipping through pages. It was the first time things felt normal since the Sorting.
Hyacinth felt the heaviness on heart lift just slightly. She missed Sirius.
-
Hyacinth sat at her usual station, grinding ingredients with the precision expected of a Black. Across the room, Sirius slouched next to James, barely paying attention as he leaned in to whisper something.
Hyacinth glanced at him, suppressing a scowl. He was always whispering to James now.
She turned back to her cauldron, stirring counterclockwise exactly four times, as the book instructed. Slughorn’s voice droned on about proper potion consistency when a sudden gasp from the Hufflepuff table drew her attention.
A cauldron was floating—levitating just behind Slughorn’s back.
At first, no one said anything, eyes flicking between each other in silent amusement. The cauldron wobbled, dipping slightly whenever the professor moved. Hyacinth’s stomach clenched.
Sirius and James.
Sure enough, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the two of them hunched over, struggling to keep their laughter in check. James muttered something under his breath, and the cauldron bobbed up and down. Hyacinth bit her tongue, watching Slughorn continue his lecture, blissfully unaware.
She should have ignored it. It wasn’t her problem. But a part of her—the part that still remembered when Sirius sat beside her in Grimmauld, whispering their own mischief—felt something ugly stir in her chest.
Then Slughorn turned.
The cauldron clunked back onto the desk with a loud clang, sending a puff of purple smoke into the air. Slughorn spun around, and Sirius and James collapsed into each other, laughing breathlessly.
Hyacinth exhaled slowly, gripping her quill tightly.
Sirius had always loved trouble—but it was different now. Before, it had been the two of them and Regulus, sneaking through Grimmauld Place, giggling behind bookshelves, stealing pastries from the kitchens. Now, it was him and James, laughing over ridiculous pranks, completely unbothered by the distance growing between them.
She turned back to her potion, pretending not to care.
-
It happened at breakfast.
Hyacinth was sitting at the Slytherin table, calmly spreading marmalade over toast while conversations buzzed around her. Across the hall, at the Gryffindor table, she heard a voice—loud, laughing.
“I mean, let’s be real,” a Gryffindor boy said, his voice carrying. “All the worst Dark wizards came from Slytherin, didn’t they?”
A few chuckles followed, and Peter Pettigrew, lounging next to Sirius, shrugged with an easy smirk. “Seems that way.”
Hyacinth’s hand clenched around her fork.
She turned her gaze toward Sirius, waiting for him to contradict them, to say something. It was quite rude, and a large generalization.
He didn’t.
He just kept eating.
That was the moment Hyacinth felt something settle in her stomach—an uncomfortable, unfamiliar weight.
-
The dueling club had been going well—until now.
Hyacinth stood across from a Gryffindor boy, wand raised, as the professor announced the start of their practice duel.
“Don’t go easy on her, or she might hex you in your sleep,” the Gryffindor taunted with a smirk.
Hyacinth arched an eyebrow. “I don’t need to hex you in your sleep. I can do it right now.”
The spell she cast was precise, controlled. A disarming spell that sent the boy’s wand clattering to the ground. She lowered her wand, chin lifted in quiet victory.
The Gryffindor boy scoffs clearly frustrated he was beaten by a Slytherin, and even worse a girl. He taunts Hyacinth“What, planning to practice on muggleborns next?”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Sirius watching. Waiting.
For what? To laugh with the Gryffindors? To tell them she’s not like them?
Instead, he just turned away. Hyacinth’s grip tightened around her wand.
-
Hyacinth wasn’t sure what exactly had happened, but judging by the crowd of stranded students, something terrible.
It was between classes, and she had been on her way to the library when she heard the commotion. Students stood at the edge of one of the moving staircases, arguing amongst themselves, wands drawn. Some were stuck on the middle steps, gripping the railing like their lives depended on it.
Hyacinth pushed her way through the crowd. What now?
Then she saw them.
Sirius and James stood off to the side, arms crossed, trying and failing to look innocent as they watched the staircase spin in a continuous, endless loop. Hyacinth’s stomach sank.
"You two," she said sharply, stepping toward them.
Sirius turned, his familiar smirk tugging at his lips. "Ah, hello, dear cousin. Lovely day, isn’t it?" Hyacinth almost softened at the familiar words.
But then, James snickered.
Hyacinth exhaled through her nose, voice low. "What. Did. You. Do?"
James leaned casually against the wall. "Well, technically, we just made the staircase more efficient. Never stops moving now. Saves time."
Hyacinth stared at them, unamused. "People are stranded."
Sirius shrugged. "Nothing permanent. We think."
Hyacinth pinched the bridge of her nose. "You two are so reckless."
Sirius grinned, but something in his expression flickered, for a moment. An old habit, a recognition of the way she used to say those words with laughter, not irritation. She turned away before he could see the frustration creeping into her face.
-
It started subtly.
Hyacinth had been walking toward the Great Hall when she noticed a commotion at the Slytherin table. A fourth-year Slytherin, the type who carried himself with more arrogance than skill, was standing stiffly near his seat.
And his robes were slowly coming undone.
Hyacinth stopped in her tracks.
At first, it wasn’t noticeable, just a slight dulling of the fabric, but carerfully, thread by thread, his outer cloak was vanishing before the entire Hall. The moment he noticed, his face turned an alarming shade of red.
Sirius and James were doubled over in laughter, Peter wheezing beside them. Remus had an amused look on his face.
Hyacinth felt irritation prick at her skin. Why does he act like an idiot now? The Slytherin scrambled to cover himself, fleeing the Hall as students erupted into a mix of cheers and gasps.
Sirius caught her staring.
For a moment, their eyes met.
He held her gaze for half a heartbeat—long enough for something unspoken to settle between them. But then James clapped him on the back, and just like that, the moment was gone.
Hyacinth exhaled sharply and turned away.
-
The courtyard was empty, save for the dying evening light casting long shadows across the stone.
“Sirius,” Hyacinth called, catching up to him as he walked toward the castle.
He turned, and for a second, she thought she saw hesitation in his face. But it was gone in a blink.
“You’re ignoring me.”
Sirius crossed his arms. “I’ve been busy.”
Hyacinth scoffed. “Busy pretending you don’t know me?”
Sirius let out a dry chuckle. “Maybe I don’t. Maybe I don’t know who you are anymore.”
Hyacinth inhaled sharply, “How can you say that? We are like brother and sister, and now what? You are abandoning me, your family so you can go pull pranks with James and Peter?”
She reached up, fingers curling around the silver chain at her neck, and pulled out the locket that rested there.
"Semper Simul"
“Does this not mean anything to you? You promised me” she whispered.
Sirius’s jaw clenched. He glanced at the locket, but he didn’t pull out his own. Did he even still wear it? He just shook his head.
“Things are different now, Hyacinth.” His voice was quiet.
Then he walked away. Hyacinth stood there, the cold metal of the locket pressing into her palm, her heartbeat loud in her ears.
-
That night, in the dimly lit Slytherin dormitory, Hyacinth sat at her desk, parchment spread in front of her. She tapped her quill against the table, staring at the blank page, before finally beginning to write:
Reggie,
Hogwarts is not what we imagined.
I thought Sirius and I would be the same here. I thought we would be us. But he’s pulling away. He sits with Gryffindors and listens to them talk badly about not just Slytherin house, but House Black. And he just lets them. He doesn’t defend me. He doesn’t defend us. I want to think he doesn’t have a choice, that if he were to speak out too much, his own Gryffindor roommates would torment him.
He won’t even acknowledge our necklace- our promise.
I don’t know what changed. Maybe I don’t know him anymore.
Write soon, Reg. Please.
Semper Simul, Cinth
She folded the parchment, sealing it with a careful press of wax.
As she lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, she couldn’t shake the feeling that, somehow, she had already lost Sirius.
-
Hyacinth was heading toward the courtyard when she felt a tug at her sleeve.
She turned, startled, only to see Sirius already passing by, voice low and casual. "Don’t go that way."
Hyacinth frowned. "Why not?"
He didn’t stop walking, didn’t turn back. "Just listen to me."
Hyacinth hesitated. She should ignore him. Should pretend she didn’t hear.
But she did notice a small group of older Raveclaws trying to act casual, and when the sun hit them just right, she spotted a slivery line of magic swirling just as you turn the corridor.
she quietly took another route.
-
The Great Hall had been cleared out for dueling practice, the long tables pushed aside to make room for the raised dueling platform. Students gathered eagerly, wands in hand. Hyacinth found herself across from Sirius.
Their eyes met. They had dueled countless times as children, with wands that weren’t their own back at Grimmauld, in hidden corridors, in between lessons. But now, it felt different.
“Ready?” the instructor called.
Neither of them moved right away. Then, Sirius cast first—Expelliarmus. It was too easy to dodge. Hyacinth flicked her wand, countering with a precise deflecting spell, her movements refined.
She could have gone further. So could he. But neither of them did.
Every spell sent was measured. Just off-center. Just slow enough to counter easily. They weren’t trying to win.
They were trying not to hurt each other. And when the duel ended—an instructor stepping in to call a draw—Hyacinth let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Sirius smirked. “Still as sharp as ever.”
She tucked her wand away. “You’re getting sloppy.”
And for a moment, just a moment, everything felt like it used to.
-
His head ached, but the fever had broken. He was in the hospital wing, he could hear the soft chatter of students milling outside the hall.
With a groggy exhale Sirius turned his head and froze. On the nightstand beside him sat a small glass jar, the lid neatly wrapped in a deep green ribbon. Inside, tiny peppermint pearls gleamed in the dim light.
Sirius stared at it.
No note. No name. But he knew.