❛ 𝗪𝗘'𝗟𝗟 𝗕𝗘 𝗔 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘 ❜
❪ ·˚ ༘ °˖✧˚ * ೃ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ ˚₊༉ ❫
in which mavis black was known all around hogwarts, but mostly for her name. after losing both her parents on one fateful night, she has many questions about who she is and i...
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FINE LINE - MEMORIES
Rain lashed fiercely against the windows of Mavis' bedroom. The young Black stood in the dim light of her room, looking at the box of her fathers memories. The low growl of thunder echoed in the distance, rolling ominously through the night.
Mavis stood before a Pensieve, her fingers trembling slightly as they hovered above the swirling, silvery surface. The cool light from the enchanted basin illuminated the darkened room, casting eerie reflections on the walls of her bedroom. Her father's memories spun lazily beneath her touch, waiting to pull her in.
She hesitated. Seeing her fathers memories of her as a child wasn't something she had ever thought she'd want, but now, with her father gone, the need to feel close to him again was overwhelming. He had been her father, yes, but also something more, something untouchable. She wanted to know how he had seen her, to see herself through his eyes - when the world was simpler, before everything had changed.
Taking a deep breath, Mavis leaned forward, letting her face dip into the cool liquid. The world around her shifted and blurred, and when it cleared, she found herself standing in a sunlit room. The curtains fluttered in the soft breeze, casting a warm glow over everything. Mavis blinked, adjusting to the new scene, and there they were - her parents. Her mother and father, laughing softly as they stood beside a cradle.
Her mother, delicate and graceful, with a soft smile that mirrored Mavis' own, leaned over the edge of the cradle, gently rocking it with one hand. Her father stood beside her, looking younger, happier, and far more carefree than Mavis had ever seen him in later years. His face was lit with a wide grin as he gazed down at the baby in the cradle - her, just a few months old. He reached down and lifted the small bundle into his arms, cradling her close to his chest. Mavis could hear her baby self gurgling happily, her tiny fingers grasping at her father's long hair.
"She has your eyes," Anastasia said softly, glancing at her husband with a look of deep affection.
"That stubborn little pout is also definitely mine," Sirius said, his voice, usually brimming with energy and wit, was soft and full of wonder, as though the tiny life in his arms had brought a peace he hadn't known before.
Her mother chuckled, reaching out to gently brush Mavis' younger self's cheek. "She's perfect, Sirius," she whispered, her voice filled with the kind of warmth that only a mother could have. "Every bit of her."
Sirius nodded, his eyes softening as he looked down at Mavis, rocking her gently in his arms. "She's going to cause so much trouble, I can feel it already," he joked, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. "Just like her father."
Her mother raised an eyebrow, pretending to be serious. "She's going to be brilliant, Sirius. Maybe she'll even keep you in line."
They both laughed, a sound so full of love and joy that it made Mavis's chest ache. She could feel the weight of their happiness in that moment, a happiness that was whole, untainted by the darkness that would come later. She watched as her father lowered himself onto a sofa, cradling the baby Mavis in his arms while her mother sat beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder.
