Vivicendium ➝ Sirius Black/OC

Ad Meliora

Welcome to the first installment of Vivicendium! The majority of this story will focus on the Marauder days, but will eventually encompass Sirius's imprisonment, his escape, and his reinduction into society. The main plot of Vivicendium will cover Voldemort's initial rise to power and the blood division. This first chapter is set fifteen years ahead, when Sirius has escaped Azkaban. We will then move backwards in time to Vivian and Sirius's seventh year at Hogwarts, and build the story from there.

Disclaimer, even though the term 'fanfiction' is a disclaimer in itself: I do not own Harry Potter.

Warning: This is a very slow burn story.  

Also warning: This story is Rated M for foul language and sexual innuendos.

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Chapter One | Ad Meliora

[Better things]

Number 12 Grimmauld Place is exactly as he remembers it to be: dark and depressing. As a boy, Sirius hated this place. His parent's strict prejudices had been nothing short of stifling when the atmosphere of this once-grand house had been at its zenith. These aspects of it haven't changed in the least. Years of misuse and isolation have made the entire place even more dismal. Dust layers every surface, so thick and stagnant that the very air is heavy with the scent of desolation. His parents, too, have left their mark. They may not have a physical presence here within these dreary walls, but every room is filled with memories better left to the wayside. If that isn't enough, his mother's screeching voice hasn't changed at all; it has merely been transferred to a new medium that is still just as loud and as harrowing as he remembers it to be. In short, as a man, Sirius still hates this place.

At least it's better than his eight-by-eight square foot cell. Better than the hard, cold stone floor that served as both bed and chair. Better than the excruciating feeling of having the last traces of his happiness sucked out of him, leaving him as little more than a husk of his former self. Better than the desperately long nights with only the rats for company, resigned to the fact that he is paying for another man's crime, that his name and his reputation are sullied beyond repair, and that every person he had loved in the life he'd lived before thinks that he is the most vicious, deplorable traitor to ever walk the earth.

It is better, especially now.

"I'm hoping Harry will take this room," he says, sending Remus a sidelong glance as they pause in front of an empty bedroom on the third floor. It needs a lot of work, of course. The entire house does. A renovation is necessary, but it's nothing a little magic can't fix.

Sirius shrugs and, as he turns to the next bedroom at the end of the hall, adds, "If he wants to stay with me once my name is cleared, that is. I mentioned it to him, but we didn't have the chance to talk about it."

No, because then time had run out, and he had to escape with Buckbeak before the alarm had sounded and the dementors were sent after him. Harry and his friends had to return to school, and Sirius had to go his own way. Nearly two years on the run has done a number on him, but he can't complain. Living in the wilderness, with only the fresh air and Buckbeak for company hasn't been easy, but it was better than his Azkaban cell. It was better than this, too, if he's being honest. Moving into Number 12 Grimmauld Place was Dumbledore's idea. It's the only safe house he could think of that would successfully keep the hordes of Ministry Aurors away. Dumbledore had been of great use, ensuring that additional wards had been placed on it, but the place had already come equipped with complicated safety measures – his father had made the place impenetrable when he was still alive – so it had been the obvious, if not least appealing, option.