Sirius Black
He saw it coming.
He did.
But, obviously, it still shocked him when it actually happened.
All these threats and all these beatings—but it still shocked Sirius Black when he knew for sure that he was never coming back home. Well—Grimmauld Place never felt like Sirius’ true home, but it was nonetheless the place where he grew up, and formed most, if not all, of his memories with his brother.
Though, Sirius wouldn’t miss Grimmauld Place.
He wouldn’t.
But, after that night, he still felt like he’d now left part of himself behind.
He left pain, torture, pressure, and high expectations behind, and looked forward to…better. Sirius knew he would become head over heels in love with living with James and his parents, and he had no doubt that they’d quickly become his new family. However, needless to say that, by that point, the Potters already were Sirius’ family. Maybe not by blood, but certainly by love.
Of course, leaving Grimmauld and all the things that went with it didn’t necessarily relieve Sirius of all things dark, or negative. It was neither a guaranteed contract for happiness, nor a fresh new start. Rather, it was an abrupt shift in his life—one that young Sirius couldn’t quite have guessed he would go through. It was the small satisfactions of not receiving any more howlers from Walburga, or the now-permanent excitements of going home for Christmas or summer at the Potters. It was the liberty of hanging anything he wanted on his walls and not getting backlash for it, or dressing as his heart desired. It was all those things, and—well—no more Cruciatus curse, or tortures from his tormentedly insane family members.
It was all those things.
All things—good and bad.
Though, the only real ‘bad’ thing Sirius would leave behind—a thing, a person that he would lose from leaving Grimmauld—was Regulus.
Damn Regulus Black.
“Come with me.”
His last, proper conversation with his brother was filled with such words. However, Regulus was reluctant—more than Sirius had expected.
“I can’t.”
It’s not like he properly anticipated his brother to follow him—because, realistically, he shouldn’t have. Though, there was still that tiny spark in Sirius—a spark of hope that Regulus Black would remain his brother even after he left Grimmauld. The spark was faint, pale, and faded with every instant that passed, but it was still alive in Sirius.
It was mere, but it was there. And that was what mattered.
Some say the spark never died, even after Sirius and Regulus both died. Though, others would be more convinced that it did die, and that Sirius, one day, lost all hopes that his brother would come back to him. And, perhaps that scenario is more realistic.
But—again—maybe the spark never ended up dying.
Just maybe.
I believe it.
Do you?