Me Talking About My Grades And Future ▶ 🔘──────── 00:00:01 Me Talking About Regulus

sirius black

marauders: we’re just so cool and rebellious

marauders: spend hours upon hours in the library meticulously studying hogwarts, sketching maps, researching magic way beyond their age level 

 marauders: skool sux get rekt filch

"What's this?" Lily asked aloud, picking up the folded piece of parchment from the floor. It was blank on both sides. She tried prodding it with her wand, but nothing happened.

"Specialis Revelio!" she whipered.

Again, nothing happened.

Frustrated, Lily tried speaking to it instead. "My name is Lily Evans."

At once, jet black writing began spreading across the map. Lily squinted to try and make out the words.

Mr. Moony would like to ask Lily if she could put the map down now before things get crazy.

Mr. Padfoot would like to tell Lily not to put the map down because he's quite looking forward to Mr. Prongs pooping his pants.

Mr. Moony would like to tell Mr. Padfoot to be quiet.

Mr. Wormtail would like to tell Lily that her hair looks nice today and would also like to ask if Mr. Prongs is doing okay.

Mr. Prongs is not doing okay.

Mr. Padfoot would like to ask Lily if she could find this piece of parchment more often.

Mr. Prongs would like to say that Mr. Padfoot is an arse and would also like to ask Lily if she has ever had feelings for a lad named James Potter.

Mr. Mooony would like to slam his head against the wall.

What is going on? Lily wondered as more writing appeared on the surface of the map.

Mr. Wormtail still thinks that Lily should put this parchment down and walk away.

Mr. Prongs does not want Lily to put this down as he's still waiting for an answer about that whole James Potter thing.

Mr. Padfoot is having the time of his life.

Mr. Padfoot would also like to add that this James fellow seems like an awful human being that smells like dung. Or, at least, that's Mr. Padfoot's impression.

Mr. Prongs would like to tell Mr. Padfoot to SHUT UP.

Mr. Moony apologizes to Lily.

Mr. Prongs would like to say that James Potter is in fact a wonderful bloke and Mr. Prongs has heard that James would make a wonderful boyfriend.

Mr. Padfoot thinks Mr. Prongs is good at being subtle.

Mr. Prongs thinks Mr. Padfoot should go shove his head up his abnormally large arse.

Ok, this is literally one of the cutest pictures that I have ever seen in my entire life.

Because This Probably Happened

Sirius: *holding up a lion cub*

Lily: What are you doing?

James: Teaching Harry about the circle of life.

Lily: Please tell me you did not Transfigure our son into a lion.

Sirius & James: ...

Happy Valentine’s Day from James and Lily :)

Sirius Black Narrating his First Quidditch Match

"Welcome to the 187th annual Quidditch match!" Sirius roared into the microphone over the general din.

"Oh, I regret this already," Professor McGonagall mumbled under her breath. She turned to face Sirius. "Mr. Black, we do not number our Quidditch matches that way."

"Well, we should," Sirius responded quickly. "It would be much easier to keep track of them."

"I think that the system that we are using now is working just fine," Professor McGonagall responded dryly.

With a nod and a wink, Sirius said, "Ah, I see. You want to keep things traditional. Got it. Change is hard."

Professor McGonagall looked up at the sky as if sending a quick prayer to any gods that may be looking down from above. "Mr. Black, when I told you that you could fill in for Mr. Harper as the Quidditch Commentator, you promised me that you would behave yourself."

"Did I?" Sirius asked innocently.

After receiving a glare from Professor McGonagall, Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yes, Professor, I promise."

Fully aware of the fact that she would soon come to regret this, Professor McGonagall nodded her head once, indicating that Sirius could start the commentary for the match.

Feeling eager, Sirius immediately belted out, "Good morning, Hogwarts!"

"It's two in the afternoon," Professor McGonagall interrupted.

Ignoring her, Sirius continued, "Welcome to our first game of the season."

"This is our fourth game," Professor McGonagall corrected.

Again, Sirius pretended not to hear her. Gesturing to one end of the pitch, he said into the microphone, "On one side, we have the chivalrous, the talented, and very courageous GRYFFINDORS!"

Cheers erupted from the crowd as the Gryffindor Qudditch team flew out on their brooms into the stadium.

"On the other side, we have the brilliant, the creative, and the stone cold RAVENCLAWS!"

The audience cheered for the Ravenclaw team as well.

"Let the battle BEGIN!"

"It's — it's not a battle," Professor McGonagall said through clenched teeth.

"And the balls have been let out," Sirius said, watching the two bludgers fly into the air. His dark eyes trailed the tiny golden ball that was weaving between them. "Watch out for those two black balls. They look like they mean business."

The coach stepped onto the field, quietly lecturing the players to play a nice, clean game. A few seconds later, the quaffle was thrown in the air.

"And the quootle has been set free!"

"It's the quaffle," Professor McGonagall enunciated, her fists balled.

"And now we've got Kelly from Ravenclaw, who has got a hold of the quootle and is racing away on her broom."

"Mr. Black, it's called the quaffle," Professor McGonagall reminded him for the second time.

"Kelly's passing the quootle to Rick. Then back to her. Then back to him. Then back to — whoa. Anyone else feeling a little dizzy here? Surely there's gotta be a better way than to just — WHOA! Rick threw the ball and made it through that circle thing. To bad for those Gryffindors, 'cause it looks like the Ravenclaws have just gotten themselves 15 points."

"No," said Professor McGonagall, willing herself not to strangle Sirius. "It's 10 points. Only 10."

"Yeah, but I thought their cool maneuvering deserved a couple of extra points."

"That's not how the game works," Professor McGonagall said sharply. "You told me that you understood the rules of the game, Mr. Black. Are you telling me that you have no idea what you are doing?"

Sirius scoffed. "Of course I know what I'm doing. I live in a dorm with James. Do you honestly believe that he wouldn't lecture all of us about the rules of Qudditch? Speaking of which..." Sirius trailed off and waved frantically at one of the scarlet-robed players racing on a broom around the field. "HI, JAMES! HEY! LOOK AT ME!"

James waved his arm at Sirius in a dismissive 'go away' motion before seizing the quaffle and shooting it into the goal.

Sirius was clearly not pleased that his friend was ignoring him. "So rude. You'd think that he would take one small moment to say hello. But no. Instead he puts all his attention on the dang quootle. Shows what he thinks is most important."

"Ten points to Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall said into the microphone as the crowd cheered, elated that Gryffindor had made its first goal.

"Oh no. After that rude treatment he just gave me? I say we take 10 points away from Gryffindor. Start them negative," Sirius insisted.

Rolling her eyes, Professor McGonagall said, "You can't just take away points from teams."

"Sure I can."

"No, I assure you that you can't."

"Well, fine," Sirius answered huffily. "Then I'll just give Ravenclaw an additional 20 points."

"You can't do that either," Professor McGonagall said, pausing as the Ravenclaws scored a second time. "We can give Ravenclaw ten more points because they just scored, but that's it."

"Ugh, fine," Sirius said, waving his hand indifferently.

Professor McGonagall sighed, massaging her temples.

"And Roger picks up the quootle and passes it to Kelly," Sirius continued. He paused for a moment to add, "And if Roger can afford the new Thunderbird 3000 broomstick, he can certainly pay back the four galleons that he owes me."

"Mr. Black — " Professor McGonagall started.

Sirius interrupted her. "I'm just adding a little zing to the commentary, Professor. No harm done. Kelly passes the quootle to Kevin, who throws it to Rick, then — INTERCEPTED BY MARLENE! Mmm — I wouldn't mind going out with her. Have you seen her play? Stone-cold, yes, but gorgeous. Damn, she is looking fine out there — "

"Mr. Black, stop objectifying female players."

"Would it make you feel better if I objectified the male players as well?" Sirius asked sweetly. Without waiting for an answer, he plowed on, "Marlene passes to Gerry of Gryffindor, who is looking scrumptious in that Quidditch uniform. Can I hear a heck yeah from the audience of you agree?"

Sirius looked extremely pleased with himself when a sizable chunk of the audience yelled back, "Heck Yeah!"

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes.

Sirius grinned. "I just wanted to let you all know that the Gryffindor captain James Potter is single and ready to mingle if your name is Lily Evans — "

"I'm warning you — " Professor McGonagall threatened.

"Gerry passes it back to Marlene, who goes in for the steal, and — YES! She made Gryffindor's second goal!"

The Gryffindor fans went wild, stomping their feet and clapping, while the Ravenclaws looked surly.

"Ah, where is the quootle," Sirius continued restlessly, searching the field. "All right, there it is, and — WHOA! That black ball almost knocked Aidan off his broom! Isn't anyone going to do something about that?"

"That's the bludger, Mr. Black," Professor McGonagall explained impatiently. "It's supposed to do that."

"The blooder?" Sirius asked.

"The bludger," she corrected.

"Blugger?"

"BLUD-GER. And ten points to Ravenclaw for their third goal. The score is now 30 for Ravenclaw and 20 for Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall said into the microphone.

Snapping his fingers together, Sirius said, "I know the ball that you're talking about. The blooger. Very nasty ball, most likely created by a group of Slytherins hell-bent on making children suffer."

"Mr. Black — "

"I'm just saying," Sirius answered matter-of-factly. "If those bloogers weren't so aggressive, Aidan wouldn't be running away from one!"

"He's not running away," Professor McGonagall said, tugging on the microphone. "He's seen the Snitch!"

Sirius tugged the microphone back. "The snatch? Hey everyone! Stop what you're doing! Aidan's gonna get the snatch!"

"The Snitch!" McGonagall yelled into the microphone, feeling exasperated.

"He's gonna get it! Any second now. He's weaving and bobbing and doing much better than Steven with the ugly face."

"Mr. Black, please don't insult the other players," Professor McGonagall said tersely, sitting on the edge of her chair.

"Well, it's true," Sirius answered unapologetically. "His face looked like it caved in on itself. HEY! Do you think that he got hit in the face by a blooger as a child? Repeatedly?"

"Get back to the match," Professor McGonagall called out.

"Right," Sirius continued. "We're all rooting for Aidan to get the ball, 'cause his face is slightly less off-putting. In fact, I think he's going to get the ball... now. No, wait.... now. Riiight now! Okay, okay. 1-2-3... NOW!"

"Mr. Black, stop this nonsense!" Professor McGonagall ordered him.

"He's reaching.... he's reaching.... and... YES! AIDAN GOT THE SNATCH! WAHOO! 10,000 POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR!" Sirius yelled as the crowd went wild.

"150!" McGonagall yelled, changing the score. "Gryffindor wins, 160 to 30!"

"Yeah, Gryffindor!" Sirius bellowed, punching his fist into the air and knocking McGonagall's hat off by accident. "Bet you Ravenclaws wish you'd stayed in bed this morning, huh?"

"All right, that's enough. Hand me the microphone," Professor McGonagall said sharply.

Sirius leaned into the microphone one last time. "S-Dog out!"

Mrs. Potter: I have to ground you. I am grounding you. You are grounded.

James: What about my job at the Quality Quidditch Supplies?

Mrs. Potter: Okay, fine. Other than work. And no owl.

James: My owl is sick.

Mrs. Potter: Then no wand.

James: I need my wand for school. Mrs. Potter: Then, no... uh... *glances at Sirius* No Sirius.

Sirius: What?! No Sirius?!

Mrs. Potter: NO SIRIUS!

Sirius : Dear santa, I've been good this year.

Sirius : Most of the year...

Sirius : Once in a while...

Sirius :

Sirius : Nevermind, I'll buy my own stuff.

james potter