BROKEN CROWN ━━ ❨ sirius black. ❩

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ✧───fifteen.

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❨ chapter fifteen. ❩
❛ the calm before ❜

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~ 1 Month Later ~

    SIRIUS CAREFULLY SURVEYED his bedroom at the Potter's. The wardrobe stood empty, the desk recently decluttered, and the bed cleanly stripped of all bedding. Two trunks were stationed nearest the door, an empty owl cage balanced on top of one, a velvet traveling cloak draped over the other. The rest of the room had been stripped of all his personal belongings, and there was a bare, lonely feeling in the guest room that had until recently been his.

    Now that they had finished at Hogwarts, Sirius could no longer think of a reason to impose upon the Potter's hospitality any more. They had suggested, almost vehemently, that their home was always open to him just as it was to James, and that there was no need for him to be so formal; their words had warmed Sirius up considerably. All the same, he did not think it wise to linger in their house any further, especially now that he was of age and could live by himself.

    Still, it was odd, leaving his room at the Potter's; it had been his refuge when he'd run away from his own home nearly two years ago, and he would never not be grateful for it. In a strange way, it felt like he was leaving home again, albeit without feeling like he was carrying a stone or two in his chest.

    Though he would never reveal it, Sirius was pleased when James suggested they look for a place together. We'll end up crashing at the same place anyway, he'd said, why bother pretending otherwise. And so, after a couple weeks of searching and viewing flats around Diagon Alley, Wimborne, and a few other wizarding settlements, Sirius and James had found a sort of quaint, mostly cramped flat in Upper Flagley. With two bedrooms, a common area, and something resembling a kitchenette, it was hardly anything impressive. But it was theirs, and the windows offered stunning views of the hills surrounding the village, and they had years ahead of them to find a better place.

    With a long suffering sigh, he turned his attention to the bed, which was strewn with piles of discarded newspapers, letters, and spell books. Most of them were ready to be discarded, but there was still a small pile of newspapers and parchments he'd yet to go through. Reaching for it, Sirius began sifting through the lot. He had balled up a few letters from Marlene and tossed aside some empty envelopes when a stray page from the Daily Prophet caught his eye. A large photograph covered a quarter of the page and followed by a short piece of text: