MINOR EDITS IN PROGRESS - The Forgotten Heir | Sirius Black (Marauders Era)

Chapter 8: Sirius Black's Obsession

The sky over Hogwarts was a deep, inky blue, sprinkled with stars that seemed to blink in and out of existence as clouds drifted lazily by. The Black Lake lay still, mirroring the heavens above, its surface occasionally disturbed by the ripples of some unseen creature below. The castle itself was cloaked in the hush of late evening, with only the faint sounds of distant laughter and the occasional hoot of an owl breaking the silence.

Sirius Black tossed and turned in his bed in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory, his face contorted in a grimace. His usual confidence and charm were replaced by a vulnerable expression, hinting at the trauma he rarely allowed anyone to see.

"You're nothing, Sirius," his mother's voice echoed in his mind, dripping with contempt. "You disgrace the noble house of Black. How dare you defy me! How dare you show such weakness!"

A young Sirius, perhaps ten or eleven, stood trembling before her, his heart pounding as he fought back tears. His mother, Walburga Black, loomed over him like a dark specter, her eyes filled with fury. She held her wand aloft, its tip glowing as she advanced toward him.

"Please, Mother, I didn't mean to—" he stammered, his voice cracking with fear.

"Silence!" she roared, and with a flick of her wand, she sent him crashing against the wall. "You will learn to obey! You will learn to be a proper Black, or you will suffer!"

Sirius woke with a start, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he bolted upright in bed. His heart raced, and for a moment, he was disoriented, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to him like a heavy fog. But then he remembered—he was at Hogwarts, his sanctuary from the horrors of his childhood.

He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky sigh. His mother's voice, her presence, still haunted him, the scars from her abuse etched into him in ways he rarely allowed himself to acknowledge.

But Sirius was skilled at hiding his pain. Over the years, he had learned to bury his trauma beneath layers of charm, bravado, and reckless behavior. It was easier to pretend nothing could touch him than to confront the darkness that lurked within.

By morning, he was back to his usual self, his trademark grin firmly in place as he joined his friends for breakfast in the Great Hall. He laughed and joked with James, Remus, and Peter, but his thoughts kept drifting to a certain Slytherin girl who had been occupying his mind more than he cared to admit.

Velora.

It had been over a month since their date, yet he couldn't shake her from his thoughts. The way she had looked at him, her green eyes filled with a quiet intensity and mystery, left an impression he found impossible to ignore. He hated the power she seemed to have over him, the way she made him feel exposed.

Usually, Sirius was the one in control, leaving others pining after him. But with Velora, things were different. She was the one who had walked away, leaving him to wrestle with his own emotions, and it frustrated him to no end.

So, he did what he always did when something scared him—he ran from it. He sought out distractions, hoping he could forget her, even if only for a little while.

Today, he found his distraction in a pretty Hufflepuff girl named Clarissa. She sat by the Black Lake, her blonde hair shining in the afternoon sun, a book open in her lap. She looked up as Sirius approached, a shy smile on her lips.

"Mind if I join you?" Sirius asked, flashing his most charming grin.

Clarissa blushed, closing her book as she nodded. "Of course not, Sirius."

He settled beside her, leaning in close. "What are you reading?"

"Just some Herbology," she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Professor Sprout gave us an essay on Venomous Tentacula."