Harry Potter Oneshots ✨🏳️‍🌈

Moony's Arms

Original Author: peanut_in_the_goal on ao3 I'm actually obsessed w this! All credit to the author!

Sirius turned away from the door, his door. Just on the other side lay his bedroom. The one that was painted an ugly green, with posters upon posters up on the wall. Stick charms in place, keeping them there. He had pictures of his friends hanging there too. James, Peter, Remus, all of them laughing, arms slung over each other's shoulders.

He hated leaving it, but it had to say. He never thought he'd leave this place, as much as he hated it, it was his home. At least somewhat a home. The only place he knew.

Not like Hogwarts, where people loved him, they laughed with him, celebrated after quidditch games together. They grew up together, they're growing up together.

And it hits him that he's just a kid because it's so easy to forget that sometimes. He's sixteen, and he's leaving this home for good. He hated it here, since he was 8 and understood what the word family meant he hated it.

Home has always meant a person for Sirius, not a place. Home used to be Grimmauld Place, here with his parents and his little brother, they were their own little family. And it had worked, for a while. But the illusion of safety and love had quickly faded into something else entirely.

The next time he picked a home, it was at Hogwarts. As soon as he got on the train with that messy-haired boy who had glasses that magnified his eyes, he knew this was where he wanted to be. There wasn't the need to prove himself to his parents, he didn't have to sit up straight at the table or isolate himself in his room.

He was at Hogwarts with his friends and his found family. That was the best feeling in the world.

He shouldered his bag, his trunk was shrunk and safely stored inside. He was finally getting out, the thought brought a smile to his face. He started down the stairs, the last time he'd be walking these steps, last time he'd be in this miserable hell of a house.

House, not home.

His footsteps sounded louder as he padded down the steps, reaching the landing. His wrist still throbbed from his run in with his father earlier that day. His ribs were sore too, and he could feel his ankle swelling under his sock. But that wasn't going to stop him.

His vision was blurred and unfocused as he reached the landing, moving as quietly as he could from then on as to not wake Kreature. He almost made it to the door, hand outstretched, but he paused. Did he really want to do this? Did he want to leave his baby brother here?

He curses himself for stopping, because he knows how hard it was going to be to get going again.

He couldn't leave without saying goodbye, but he also knows he won't leave if he sees his brother's face again. He doesn't really have a choice, does he? Sirius' head snaps around when he hears a creek at the top of the stairs.

He panics, ready to fling himself out the door and run if it's his parents. But when he turns to look, he sees a pair of the same eyes looking back at him.

"Regulus..." He whispers his name, and he hopes it's not going to be the last time he says it. That this isn't going to be the last time they see each other, looking at each other, or even talking. He doesn't want it to be the last time before starting his brother down on the war field.

He's not going to hurt him then either, he can't. He still sees his baby brother, the one that promised to follow him anywhere, the one who said he wanted to be a Gryffindor. Just like his big brother.

And now, looking him up and down, he's grown up. The kid who used to be afraid of the monsters under his bed now sneers at him across the hall, the one who keeps his head down while his "friends" curse the mudbloods.