To Build a Home - SIRIUS BLACK

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟑

WHAT A FEELING
◦ ━━━━━━━ ◦ ❁ ◦ ━━━━━━━ ◦

DECEMBER, 1976; Six years ago.

The fire in the chimney brought a warm light to the Gryffindor common area, and fifth-year- Maggie —who was still pretty flustered— felt herself slowly beginning to calm down as she sat down in one of the couches. She breathed in and she breathed out. The snow outside made a plop plop sound as it collided against the tall window in the tower, and besides that, the only other sound present in the room was Margaret's own hard beating heart.

Just a few more days until winter break, Margaret thought. She was counting the days to get the devil out of here, rightfully, considering all that had just gone down. The blue-eyed witch sighed shakily.

Margaret could still feel the adrenaline present in her fingertips and toes, and she was glad to be all alone in the common room for once. She had come back late, very late in fact, and had had to make a run from Filch's cursed cat, Mrs Norris.

Never in her life would she ever do something as stupid as this again. Her brother was the one that roamed the halls of the school at night, who was both trouble and mischief, but not her. She would never ever do anything like it again.

Anyhow, it's not like she had a reason to do it any longer, Margaret thought and felt herself get mad all over again.

Now that she was finally alone and her only witnesses were the moon and the falling snow, Margaret allowed a few tears to fall. The young brunette brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Her uniform was all wrinkled and her nails chipped, but for now, she would not care. She would allow herself just this moment of weakness, because she knew that afterwards she would have to brush any trace of sadness off her face and climb up for bed, where her friends were surely already asleep. Margaret Potter was known for being pure composure, not a crying mess.

She should have known better, yet she insisted on it and now what? Maggie thought, now she had a broken heart.

What hurt her the most wasn't the infidelity, or the lies, or the betrayal; what hurt Margaret the most was her own foolishness. Foolish, stupid girl. She had been used, mocked and the reputation she had been building for years, a reputation she had accomplished despite her own brother's popularity, had now been jeopardised.

At this thought she cried a little harder. In the end, despite her efforts, she would always be seen as little Maggie Potter, James Potter's little sister, naïve and childish. And to think that Thomas could help her case, Godrick what stupidity! Maybe she was really naïve.

The reason behind Margaret's sour mood could simply be put as boy drama. For the past two months she had begun to date Thomas Armstrong, a sixth-year Ravenclaw that was known for both his good looks and accomplishments in all skills. Thomas was the perfect example of perfection: excellent grades, excellent reputation, excellent ability in Quidditch. Until he wasn't so perfect anymore when Maggie found him kissing a Hufflepuff girl in a cabinet in the middle of the night.

Margaret never before would have roamed the halls of the school past bedtime, but her and Thomas had established this little tactic as their rendezvous. And although the blue eyed witch would never have bet on it, she had actually fallen for the boy.

Tonight, Maggie had waited patiently for everyone to go to bed like she did every other time before slipping out of the Gryffindor wing and on to look for her boyfriend. The rest is history.

She cried and wondered: why? Was it because she wasn't pretty enough? Was it because she was younger? Was it because of some other reason that was not fixable? Margaret's lips quivered at every new potential explanation.