October 31st 1981
Chapter 1: October 31st 1981
Sirius Black
Sirius stands at the door of the Potter’s, his heart pounding as the promise he made over a year ago rings through his head. He isn’t meant to be here. His mere presence at the Potter’s puts a year worth of time, hard work, and so much precious life at risk.
Still, he can’t help but feel as though it’s worth risking it to stitch everything back together. Sirius, in his school years, once heard someone say that pulling something—or someone—together takes ten times as much time as it does for something to fall apart.
Now, he can’t remember who it was; so much has happened between now and then. Or perhaps he read it in a book? It doesn’t matter. What he does know was that things had been falling apart for a long while.
Years.
Every day when Sirius opens his eyes and looks at the bleak world around him it feels like his heart is lodged in his throat. And everytime he thinks to himself that he would give anything—do anything—to have the world be as colourful as it was only just four years ago. Despite the constant reminds of how fucked everything is now there is still a naive, childish part of him that falls asleep hoping that when he wakes up everything would be as it once was.
Every morning is a jut in the heart for Sirius. A pain he has grown used to but just can't seem to ignore completely.
In his last years at Hogwarts he knew that his world was changing drastically. He wasn’t stupid. He knew war meant no good. Unlike others who saw war as the perfect opportunity to showcase their heroics, Sirius knew that it meant sacrifice, loss, and irreversible change. Sirius knew all this from books and lessons and stories, but to live it was something else entirely. Living without his friends who were the only people he felt loved by has changed something in him.
Sirius’ no longer the rebellious, witty, lively boy he had once been. The constant disorientation he endures is not just because of the world's transformation, but also his own.
One thing that hasn’t changed in him is his devotion towards his friends—no, his family.
A little over a year ago, a light was born.
On the 31st of July 1980, a boy with hair as dark as his fathers, and eyes as beautiful as his mothers, was born. And his name is Harry Potter.
The rest of the story is no secret. That little boy, whose only fault was his birth date, was marked for death. So, in order to protect him, Harry Potter and his parents disappeared. No one, not even their closest friends had been told where they were. But Sirius is fucking tired of hiding, waiting for a miracle that will fix everything. He refuses to close his eyes with false hopes again. So, he has broken his promise to stay away from his family and is now standing at their door.
Sirius raises his shaky hand to the door and knocks,
once,
twice,
and waits.