❞ 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐫
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Margaret 'Maggie' Potter, unlike her older brother and every single girl in school, despises the cocky, self-absorbed Sirius Black.
Sirius Black himself has never been very fond of t...
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THERE is something eerie about losing someone you love. At first, you don't quite understand it, you feel it's surreal because how can someone you were sure to always have, become nothing more than a memory? Vaporized into time?
So you deny it, and feel that at any given moment that person will appear out of nowhere, knocking on your front door. But when precisely, he doesn't come knocking on your door, or his brilliant smirk doesn't appear on the other side of the broken piece of mirror, pain and loss wash over you like a cold chill that rocks you out of your bones.
When Sirius first lost his brother, two years ago, he was shattered and full of regret. He felt like he had lost precious time by acting proud and unbothered, never really acting by how he really felt. Losing the opportunity to mend back his broken relationship with Regulus. Back then, however, he had his friends. He had James and Remus, and hell, even Peter. And with them, he would never be lonely, with them he had a reason to be happy, a reason to keep on living.
But now, with James gone and Remus somewhere only Merlin knows, he had no reason to keep on moving further. Sirius had been caught in a limbo between the dead and the living, so desperate to fall into a deep sleep and stop feeling.
So what could he have possibly done to deserve this? He didn't want to be trapped inside this house. No. He felt selfish while holding baby Harry because why had he, Sirius the damned, gotten to live but neither Lily nor James could? Who exactly chose people's fates? Who exactly decided their ends?
Sirius didn't want to be here because he didn't feel worthy enough.
Godrick, he had spent half of his life smoking cigarettes and sleeping with women, playing pranks on first-years, and slacking most of the time. In a way, he felt that this was his price to pay for all those moments. This was his torture. And it sure as hell felt like that whenever he shared quick glances with Margaret Potter, whose eyes were so ice cold it would knock him out of breath.
And she hated him, Sirius was sure of it. She despised him with all her being. She watched him through disgusted eyes and had to bite her lower lip in order to prevent all curses from slipping out. And Sirius who had grown immune to everything, wanted to hear her shout, wanted her to slap him hard across the face and scream insanities at him. In a way it helped him cope with the pain, to numb away his thoughts.
That's how the bickering began once more.
"Sirius, could you not leave your shoes in the middle of the hall? I almost fell!" He heard Margaret complain, an open book right above his face, Sirius' long figure rested on the couch and his feet on the coffee table.
