chapter i // history
From a young age, Sirius had loved reading. He had picked up the skill premature to any of his peers. While it was a lesson brought to him by his parents, it was taught by a kind witch by the name of Esmeralda. With her crinkled grin, petite figure, and wrinkle-ridden curious eyes, she knew in an instant how intelligent he was. “Esmie” as Sirius had called her, taught him everything he needed to know about navigating the world of books.
Perhaps it was the kind and positive memories surrounding his experience with libraries, but either way, ever since, he had loved them.
Sirius was at the mere age of 3 when they started, getting stories read to him, and working on sounding out each letter. Esmie always chose the funniest of worst to entertain his budding brilliance. “Animagus” for A, “Bludger” for B, “Comet” for C… He admired the way words rolled off his tongue in an instant. He asked her for a new word each day.
When Sirius was 7, he was 300 pages in a single day. It made it difficult to find a new book for his daily lessons. He only had a mere hour with her a day, and it was constantly the quickest hour of the day.
By the time he was 10, Walburga had been toying with the idea of letting Esmeralda go. Sirius was advanced beyond his years in the field of literature.
Walburga knew how much Sirius looked forward to his time with her. She had become a true motherly figure in his life.
Her final straw came one Tuesday when Sirius was expected to look his best for the upcoming company of his father’s associates. It was 5 minutes until they would be at the Black House, and Sirius had been locked in his bedroom as usual, but was not answering Walburga’s shouts for his appearance. She opened his bedroom door without warning, to which Sirius had slammed the book shut, sliding it under a nearby pillow.
Needless to say, Walburga was infuriated with her son. She sent him to change and prepare himself as quickly as possible, and foolishly, left the book within proximity of his mother’s clutches.
“How dare you encourage my son to pursue such an atrocity? You are hereby BANISHED from my household, if I find out you have attempted to contact or visit my son again, I will be taking things to a MUCH farther extent.”
And in this moment of eavesdropping, Sirius knew he would never see Esmie again. She left his mother without any argument. Sirius wondered if she wanted to fight for him. But that was silly, she was just a teacher. Sirius would miss her for weeks prior. Life went on.
He ran away at 16. He never read as much as he used to. He was an openly gay man, as he had once told Esmeralda. His mother had blamed Esmeralda for his sexuality. Walburga claimed that she never would have even exposed her sons to “anything like that,” nevertheless let them think it was okay. But Sirius knew he was gay. He could not take the resentment of the people he lived with any longer. They were never his family.
By the time he was 21, he was still living with the Potters, his childhood best friend’s family. They had made him feel as at home as his reading lessons as a child.
“Oy! It says it’s going to be a library! James, did you see this??” Sirius was overjoyed about a new library being built just around the corner of the Potter house.
“Grab me a cookbook once it opens, dear?” Euphemia Potter joked from the kitchen. Though Sirius knew she was kidding, he intended to get her a book all the same. Perhaps she would find a new and improved recipe even if it didn’t beat her usual skills and standards.
It was an old restaurant, being renovated into a library. He had seen it in a newspaper article. From the blueprint idea sample, it was going to expand the roofs and walls to make its previous life irrelevant. No one would even know or remember the lot as a restaurant. All he had to do was wait approximately 2 months. Great.
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Time had flown. Sirius was thrilled, the library had opened yesterday! He wanted to look as “himself” as possible. He thought it to be almost comical if he would dress himself as such. SO, he did. He was sure nobody in a small town library would expect a 5 '6 man with lengthy dark hair, thick eyeliner on his waterline, in ripped jeans that were most definitely two sizes too tight, rock band T-shirts, and a classic leather jacket. He knew this look was unusual and punky for a library, but that's exactly what he wanted to test. He liked to put himself in the public eye to see who would yell a slur at him, versus who would wink at him. He had gotten quite a mix from the public of London.
He was crossing the street with a half-finished cigarette between his lips. He looked at the door. Tall and wooden, the building looked magnificent. Sometimes, he really loved the Wizarding World. He knew this library was open to muggles here and there, but they could never be mixed because of the charms on the building. The steps were made of marble and everything about the building reminded Sirius of a Greek temple.
Though his boots were made of patent leather, the sound of his boots on the marble squeaked a bit. He almost reached down to make sure the boots were still clean, which was frankly a bit odd considering his usually unorganized tendencies. They were as spiff as the day he bought them. Slightly creased? Yes. Dirty? Absolutely not.
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The library was exactly what he had expected and more. The aroma of coffee and dust lingered peacefully. The rows of shelves surpassed the ceilings. Such a great thing about magic, the ceiling could be anything, space, a sunny day, even dribbling rain. The tops of the shelves did not end in the wizards’ eyes. The center of the library displayed a granite fireplace, slightly diminishing given the cool winds outside. Books floated all around, some sliding in and out of shelves, a few falling to the floor occasionally. Tween witches and wizards scattered around the library, trying to get the books into the air, and back onto their spots of shelves. Dead ahead sat a sumptuous counter with three books that looked as if they had been around for centuries. It must have held records of checked out books.
A directory of the library was nowhere to be seen. He was genuinely only here to explore and possibly find a cookbook. He could ask someone but noone around him seemed like they worked at or owned the library. He would find someone.