A collection of not so short, short stories featuring your favourite characters and some characters you might not know much about.
Slow updates in progress.
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED
As the title suggests, this is volume 1 and volume 2 should soon be un...
Those of you that follow me already know why this update is late so I'm not going to explain it again~
But MY GOD - my phone decided that it wanted to break down today. It's not even turning on or charging and I've managed to figure out that there's an issue with the charging port AND the power button. Looks like it's time to get a new phone - it broke down on the bus to uni. MEGA UNHELPFUL!
Also, from now on I'm not going to respond to messages or comments that practically demand an update from me. Hopefully you guys understand that if I haven't updated for a while then there must be a reason. (And honestly it's only been a few days since my last update)
Anyway, here it is - hopefully it's worth all the struggle it took to post it
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Everything had gone wrong. Within a matter of hours my dearest friend had lost her husband, perished in the face of hatred, and her orphaned son had been pulled out of my waiting arms to be shipped off to his maternal aunt's home. Almost a month later and it was still all the Daily Prophet could write of. The untimely demise of the Potters was overshadowed by the fall of the darkest wizard in existence and the betrayal from the most unlikely person. But Sirius hadn't betrayed them and I knew that for a fact.
No one was willing to listen to me. They had shackled him up and sent him off to Azkaban to repent for a crime he hadn't committed. Godric, if only I knew who the Potters had changed their secret keeper to. If I knew their identity then I would have hunted down the traitor myself.
It was in the moments were my lust for the blood of the traitor got to me, that I suddenly remembered Lily's eyes - Harry's eyes, and all I could wonder was whether my godson was coping, whether he was being treated well. Although, from the way Lily had described her childhood with her sister I doubted it. The possibility of Harry facing neglect at the hands of his aunt made me want to fight for him in a way I'd never fought for something before. But very few people were willing to take on Dumbledore - after all, it had been his decision to overlook the precautionary last will and treatment created by the Potters in case the worst happened, and to ship Harry off to 4 Privet Drive.
No one was willing to face off against Dumbledore. Except, maybe the man sitting across the breakfast table; he had until his retirement been the most formidable member of the wizengamot. Regardless of Dumbledore's appointment as the chief warlock. My father was busy reading this morning's issue of the Daily Prophet to notice the way I glared at the front cover; a horrendous image of Sirius decked out in the prisoner's uniform. Mother rose from the table when an owl appeared at the window, delivering the morning correspondence and I took the chance to switch seats, sliding into the seat next to the him.
"Dad?" I called out tentatively, waiting for him to peek out from behind the newspaper.
And he did, folding down the corner slightly. "What is it?"
