Latest Posts by medasavagepotter - Page 2

Trying to find Fanfic Author St Mean

Ok soooo if anyone wants a james potter fanfic from the Marauders era: James Potter Chronicles Year 1(-5 is posted yet)

But Mr. St Mean if you are on Tumblr I would request you to continue rhe fanfic....

And, others, I would like to urge you to read it. Its so underrated!!! Its canon n yk no slashes but still sorry to atyd readers but after reading this I really couldnt understand why atyd is more famous than jpc its way better!!!!

Dogs Are Afraid of Thunder (and so is Padfoot)

Series: Padfoot & Prongs

Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Relationship: Sirius Black & James Potter

Characters: James Potter, Sirius Black

Summary: Dogs are scared of thunder, so what about Padfoot? James learns the answer to that question one stormy night.

Keep reading

i can never figure out Tumblr i mean how do u even open a task box

I m thirteen but dumb!!

We are so sammmmeee except for the zodiac I am an Aries😈

And welll I am also a part fish in a landlocked city !

I speak 4 languages🙈

I recently read "Home is wherever you are" its so cute u should write more harry and sirius

i hit a couple milestones on tumblr and ao3 in the last few days and it’s very,,,,,overwhelming lol so instead of losing my shit over that, i’ll do a lil introduction (that i’ve never done, i think 🤔)

hello! welcome to my page <3

i’m padfootastic everywhere, but i go by penny online!

i’m an adult and though i’ve not posted anything too risqué yet, there’s always the possibility i might so uh, keep that in mind pls?

this is a no terf zone. we don’t support that kind of hateful rhetoric here.

ask box + inbox are always open! i love talking, even if im a bit terrible at the actual communication bit itself, so drop by whenever u like. prompts are always welcome too 💜

my favorite characters are—no surprise, i’m sure—sirius, james, and harry! the sirius & harry dynamic is my favorite thing to write about. prongsfoot in any capacity, but especially qpp, is the love of my life <3

i’m a scorpio (so uh, heavy projection on sirius sometimes. beware)

i love oceans and beaches and lakes and swimming pools. i think i’m part-fish, actually. which makes it even more sad that i’m in a land locked city :(

i’m trilingual! english is teeeeeechnically my third language, so that often bleeds into my writing as well. ignore any weird issues & metaphors & SPaG errors pls n thx 🙈

my posts are always tag-heavy because i love adding commentary to everything!!! it’s so much fun!! adds flavor and spice!!

My Works

foundations of decay - gen. ongoing wip! set post-gof, ft. independent, smart harry taking charge of his life. sirius & harry bonding.

glimpses of us - collection of all my tumblr drabbles/oneshots. featuring harry, sirius, james, next gen kids, random OCs.

(everything on tumblr’s under ‘pen’s writing’ and ‘tumblr works’)

since a list of everything would be tedious and take too long—i deal mainly in oneshots 🙃—i’ll just link my favourites!!

a home for you (for me) - 6.2k. Gen. A nebulous universe where qpp James & Sirius coparent Harry who wants to become Harry Potter-Black.

shovel talk - 2.4k. Background Jily. Sirius gives Lily Evans a shovel talk : )

i fall to pieces (when i’m with you) - 6.5k. Prongsfoot. James makes Sirius’ blush, that’s it. The whole fic is just that.

go easy on me (i was still a child) - Gen, 13.8k. Postwar, Sirius-returns-from-the-veil and discovers already Harry has a tattoo when he tries to take him for what he believes is his godson’s first- cue feels and emotions and tears.

i won’t ever let go of you - Gen. 8.4k. Set in OoTP. Molly says the wrong thing to Sirius and protective!harry erupts. Lots of bonding and affection.

home is wherever you are - Gen. 3.5k. Set in OoTP. Sirius’ scent—cigarettes; clove and tobacco and smoke—has always reminded Harry of safety & home.

it’s always been you - Gen. Set in OoTP. Sirius finally stands up for himself when Molly accuses him of treating Harry like James.

where you go, i’m going - Gen/QPP. 3.2k. Prongsfoot!!! and tattoos!! Outsider Remus POV into the close knit bond between James & Sirius.

Sirius Black: The Godfather - Gen. 7.7k. Mostly pre-canon/canon compliant. Background Jily but mainly focusing on s&h. a series of one shots highlighting the godson-godfather bond. (the first time i delved deep into my fav duo!)

okay, i’ll stop here 😭 but! i have a lot of assorted one shots on my ao3 so check it out if any of this sounds interesting. my motto for writing is ‘read what u wanna see in the world’ hence why everything is so…self-indulgent.

thank u for being here!! i appreciate everyone who reads/interacts so much i can not put it in words :”)

The brothers Black

It's late. He should go to sleep. He has Harry to look after now, he should set a better example.

The said teen is sitting on the floor beside him, and for a moment Sirius is caught in the nostalgia of just how much Harry reminds him of himself.

It's a bad thing, really. He wasn't the best guy around. Hell, Sirius thinks he was probably a menace to even think about. Harry, Harry is better. Sirius remembers picking up the newborn Harry Potter in his hands and hugging him. Sirius remembers closing his eyes and apologising to the ghost of a dead Regulus because Sirius had never hugged his baby brother as much as he deserved.

Sirius puts off his cigarette and runs a hand down his face. Fuck.

Reggie.

Beside him, Harry looks at him with worried eyes. "We don't have to continue, Sirius," he says, perceptive boy. "I can leave—"

"Not necessary, kid," he says, pulling out the last of photos from the shoe box. Harry shuffles closer, almost cuddling him. Sirius quietly points out the people he never got to see grow older. Marlene, her puns and her affinity for everything yellow. Pandora, her heart and her necessity to constantly have chocolates on her person. Dorcas, her loud army boots and bright sundresses.

The last photo in his hand doesn't belong in the shoebox.

It's Reggie and him, Sirius has his brother in his arms and his lips pressed to Reggie's head, eyes closed tight. But it's Sirius, he knows this moment.

Three weeks before Sirius started Hogwarts, Reggie was sure that Hogwarts would steal his brother from him.

(Didn't it?)

Poor boy had been promising to be the best brother in the world, begging Sirius to keep loving him.

Sirius doesn't know when tears blurred his eyes but the ache in his chest comes back full force at his brother's innocent face, still red because of crying and eyes scrunched up close behind Sirius' hand. Sirius was supposed to protect him. Keep his eyes closed, never show him the blood and death that was carved into their fate.

"Regulus." Harry breathes beside Sirius and even the boy sounds pained. He leans further into Sirius and Sirius. Sirius is a greedy man. He takes the opportunity with desperation and puts his arm around Harry's shoulder, pulls him in.

(Everyone he touches will turn out dead. But Harry can't be dead, no, that's his boy, that's his child, he can't, no, not his boy—)

As they've done with every other picture, Sirius turned the photo behind to read who clicked it and when, even if he remembers the dates like they're tattooed on his spine.

But the back of the photo isn't only that. It reads,

Dearest Siri,

I don't know how to tell you how sorry I am. For the first time in my life, words fail me. I've failed everything you've ever tried to teach me— all in for a blind wish that was always impossible.

I've heard your silence, I've heard your screams and it seems that it's all I can remember. I am your shadow, no matter how much mother and father try to force the fact to be false. I want your presence, brother. I do not know how to exist without you. It is the only demand I can still make from fate— for even fate will have to pry you from my dead hands.

You are my brother. You are an ache in my chest and nowadays, I only ever breathe to feel this ache. The letters you've written to me are in my room, you will know where. The letters I've never sent you will be there. Burn them, Siri. I am going down a path of betrayal— towards you, towards our name, towards James, towards the Dark Lord as well. Of all the betrayals I've committed, my biggest regret will be not seeing you before I walk towards death.

Remember me, Siri. Let me stay alive with you. Let me take a part of you as I die.

Yours,

RA Reggie.

Clicked by Andromeda, 18/8/71

Panic burns through Sirius and he's heaving— choking on his tears and sobs and gasps.

His brother. His baby brother. He clutches the photo tighter and cradles it to his heart and wails. Regulus.

The ache in his chest blooms anew and Sirius wants to claw at his chest and find that piece of Regulus that's always lived beside Sirius' heart. Brother. My brother. My only brother. My little brother.

Regulus. Regulus. Reggie. Reggie. Reggie. Baby. Reg. Ree. Reg. Reggie.

Sirius slams his fist on the floor and he welcomes the pain that comes with it, his sobs almost cover the thuds his fist is making and he doesn't want to live. His brother. An open wound in his chest, his brother. Sirius wants to burn himself alive, like Reggie wanted to burn those letters.

"My brother." He wails, not sure if anyone will understand what he's saying but he doesn't expect them to, no one will ever understand just what his brother is, was.

There's a hand on his shoulder and Sirius heaves again. He has failed everyone he cared for, and he failed his blood the most. His boy, his brave Reggie.

Harry doesn't speak but keeps his hold on Sirius' elbow and Sirius wishes he would choke him or plunge his hand in Sirius' chest and drag his heart out— Reggie died with a wish to see Sirius, his poor brother, his baby, his Reggie— he doesn't want to live knowing how Reggie suffered and sobbed.

Because even if his brother is dead, Sirius is alive and thus, so is Reggie. Sirius can feel the sobs that must have wrecked Reggie, he can hear all the whimpers Reggie had to subside because he couldn't wake Mother and he can feel all the bile in his throat that his brother must have thrown up during one of his panic episodes.

And now, Harry rises up on his knees and holds Sirius— as Sirius was holding Reggie in that photo. As Harry's hand covers his eyes, Sirius feels the darkness that must have been the last thing Reggie saw.

if i cry you cry with me too

The brothers Black

It's late. He should go to sleep. He has Harry to look after now, he should set a better example.

The said teen is sitting on the floor beside him, and for a moment Sirius is caught in the nostalgia of just how much Harry reminds him of himself.

It's a bad thing, really. He wasn't the best guy around. Hell, Sirius thinks he was probably a menace to even think about. Harry, Harry is better. Sirius remembers picking up the newborn Harry Potter in his hands and hugging him. Sirius remembers closing his eyes and apologising to the ghost of a dead Regulus because Sirius had never hugged his baby brother as much as he deserved.

Sirius puts off his cigarette and runs a hand down his face. Fuck.

Reggie.

Beside him, Harry looks at him with worried eyes. "We don't have to continue, Sirius," he says, perceptive boy. "I can leave—"

"Not necessary, kid," he says, pulling out the last of photos from the shoe box. Harry shuffles closer, almost cuddling him. Sirius quietly points out the people he never got to see grow older. Marlene, her puns and her affinity for everything yellow. Pandora, her heart and her necessity to constantly have chocolates on her person. Dorcas, her loud army boots and bright sundresses.

The last photo in his hand doesn't belong in the shoebox.

It's Reggie and him, Sirius has his brother in his arms and his lips pressed to Reggie's head, eyes closed tight. But it's Sirius, he knows this moment.

Three weeks before Sirius started Hogwarts, Reggie was sure that Hogwarts would steal his brother from him.

(Didn't it?)

Poor boy had been promising to be the best brother in the world, begging Sirius to keep loving him.

Sirius doesn't know when tears blurred his eyes but the ache in his chest comes back full force at his brother's innocent face, still red because of crying and eyes scrunched up close behind Sirius' hand. Sirius was supposed to protect him. Keep his eyes closed, never show him the blood and death that was carved into their fate.

"Regulus." Harry breathes beside Sirius and even the boy sounds pained. He leans further into Sirius and Sirius. Sirius is a greedy man. He takes the opportunity with desperation and puts his arm around Harry's shoulder, pulls him in.

(Everyone he touches will turn out dead. But Harry can't be dead, no, that's his boy, that's his child, he can't, no, not his boy—)

As they've done with every other picture, Sirius turned the photo behind to read who clicked it and when, even if he remembers the dates like they're tattooed on his spine.

But the back of the photo isn't only that. It reads,

Dearest Siri,

I don't know how to tell you how sorry I am. For the first time in my life, words fail me. I've failed everything you've ever tried to teach me— all in for a blind wish that was always impossible.

I've heard your silence, I've heard your screams and it seems that it's all I can remember. I am your shadow, no matter how much mother and father try to force the fact to be false. I want your presence, brother. I do not know how to exist without you. It is the only demand I can still make from fate— for even fate will have to pry you from my dead hands.

You are my brother. You are an ache in my chest and nowadays, I only ever breathe to feel this ache. The letters you've written to me are in my room, you will know where. The letters I've never sent you will be there. Burn them, Siri. I am going down a path of betrayal— towards you, towards our name, towards James, towards the Dark Lord as well. Of all the betrayals I've committed, my biggest regret will be not seeing you before I walk towards death.

Remember me, Siri. Let me stay alive with you. Let me take a part of you as I die.

Yours,

RA Reggie.

Clicked by Andromeda, 18/8/71

Panic burns through Sirius and he's heaving— choking on his tears and sobs and gasps.

His brother. His baby brother. He clutches the photo tighter and cradles it to his heart and wails. Regulus.

The ache in his chest blooms anew and Sirius wants to claw at his chest and find that piece of Regulus that's always lived beside Sirius' heart. Brother. My brother. My only brother. My little brother.

Regulus. Regulus. Reggie. Reggie. Reggie. Baby. Reg. Ree. Reg. Reggie.

Sirius slams his fist on the floor and he welcomes the pain that comes with it, his sobs almost cover the thuds his fist is making and he doesn't want to live. His brother. An open wound in his chest, his brother. Sirius wants to burn himself alive, like Reggie wanted to burn those letters.

"My brother." He wails, not sure if anyone will understand what he's saying but he doesn't expect them to, no one will ever understand just what his brother is, was.

There's a hand on his shoulder and Sirius heaves again. He has failed everyone he cared for, and he failed his blood the most. His boy, his brave Reggie.

Harry doesn't speak but keeps his hold on Sirius' elbow and Sirius wishes he would choke him or plunge his hand in Sirius' chest and drag his heart out— Reggie died with a wish to see Sirius, his poor brother, his baby, his Reggie— he doesn't want to live knowing how Reggie suffered and sobbed.

Because even if his brother is dead, Sirius is alive and thus, so is Reggie. Sirius can feel the sobs that must have wrecked Reggie, he can hear all the whimpers Reggie had to subside because he couldn't wake Mother and he can feel all the bile in his throat that his brother must have thrown up during one of his panic episodes.

And now, Harry rises up on his knees and holds Sirius— as Sirius was holding Reggie in that photo. As Harry's hand covers his eyes, Sirius feels the darkness that must have been the last thing Reggie saw.

Lily's temper once they find and reseat her

Poor Lily

Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.

Remus: Shit.

Sirius: Wait, three?

Cop: Yeah?

James: OH MY GOD LILY FELL OFF!!!

dude do tag me!

I just saw this on pintrest and everyone should know about this

(Not mine btw)

Anything for marshmallows, and chocolates and chips and s ' mores!

sirius and regulus are eavesdropping on their parents while they’re discussing politics, and are texting each other whatever they hear.

sirius: did she just say that voldy’s going to enforce a marshmallow?

regulus: a martial law, you gormless git.

Lucky you! I mean I have a few friends best ones at that but none like _that_

My fav dynamic in marauders is the complete and slightly unhealthy codependency James and Sirius have on each other

Like I’m positive when they left hogwarts instead of living with their partners they just owned a seperate house where they could live together

Sure they stayed with their partners sometimes but other times they just needed to be alone together

love this

posting an untitled drabble saved in my drafts about Sirius calling Harry by his name most of the time in their little cottage and Harry being very 🥰 about it — words: 305 summary: He didn't have a name, not really. It was boy and child and idiot and freak.

Harry didn't quite know his name before kindergarten. When he'd heard his name called out for attendance, he'd felt as if he was a stranger happening across treasure. An imposter. Harry Potter—that wasn't his name. He didn't have a name, not really. It was boy and child and idiot and freak.

He cradled it in his hands and twisted his tongue around that name in the dark of his cupboard, stitched it to his mind and imagined frequently how his parents—Mr and Mrs Potter—would have named him. Harry. Maybe they'd sifted through name-books before deciding on Harry, or maybe it was recommended to them by a neighbour, or maybe it was an ancestral name. Whichever it was, this was his now; Harry Potter was his name, and it was the only thing that really belonged to him that had never been the Dursley's before.

Harry doesn't know why it feels so different now, hearing his name all the time in Sirius' cottage. Even though he hears it at Hogwarts too, but it's different in the way it's Potter or Harry followed by an awed Potter, or a stern Mr Potter—and it's not like how this is.

It's not pronounced with so much affection and warmth in long corridors, the way Sirius says it, eyes crinkled and a smile dimpling his cheeks, and Sirius says it so much around Harry:

Calls him from downstairs, "Harry, love—!" Wishes him, "Good morning, Harry!" "Harry, pass me the turmeric, please?" "What would you like for dinner, Harry?" To sleep, "Good night, Harry."

I love you, Harry.

It's always Harry, spoken in that rich, quiet voice of his, coated in love and soaked in warmth and Harry notices and his heart flutters and squeezes. He smiles every time and can't help but love it and Sirius.

*screams* silently cuz yk sitting with a very anti harry potter family

Something He Never Got To Say Before

for @impishtubist 's prompt here ; it's not wolfstar raising Harry, but close! hope you like it ! words: 955 summary: Harry wants to call Sirius ‘dad’. [Set in the summer after PoA, Peter’s caught, Sirius is free and raising Harry the best he can.]

It frustrates Harry how it fits so perfectly. Sirius is spelled soft and warm on his tongue but dad—it’s tender and something Harry’s never got to say before and homey and it makes his cheek hurt with a smile. Harry loves how it sounds.

But he isn’t meant for it.

Harry stares at the words.

Oh, and I’m sure my dad will~

That’s where they end, the curved end of the l smudged into a waving, blotted line; Harry’s quill had jerked with the realisation of what he’d written.

Dad.

He stares, biting his lip, heart starting to pound in his chest. Sirius, he means. But.

Sirius isn't his dad. Harry doesn't have a dad.

It shouldn't hurt as much as it does.

Sirius changed his whole life. He bought Harry a home, now gives him a life that is a thousand times less miserable and more exciting than his previous one—it is love filled and brimming with smiles and soft touches (instead of shrieking and pan-throwing and knee-scraping heart-wrenching hurt) and Sirius buys him candies and ice creams (the very best ones) and takes him to carnivals and teaches him about Holi and Diwali and tells him stories about his parents. Sirius ruffles his hair and watches the telly with him and tells Harry: I love you, kid.

You're the best, Harry.

It's enough. It should be.

It is, in a way. Harry is more than grateful, beyond it really, for all that Sirius has done—he’s done so much for him in a mere twenty days than the Dursleys ever did for him in all of Harry’s thirteen years.

And yet, he finds himself wanting more.

His lips taste of blood as he scrapes back his chair to throw the crumpled parchment into the bin.

-

He is four (but he doesn't know it then) when he, looking at Petunia's long pale hair and Dudley's very blue eyes (handsome, Petunia always says), asks: “Are you my mum?”

It's a question that's been troubling him, after that Incident at the grocer's, whizzing around in his mind and buzzing right next to his ears and crawling over his fingers ever since.

Petunia turns with a crack of her neck, her face pinching and scrunching. “Where did you get that idea from?”

“That woman at the—”

“I am not,” she cuts in, sharply. Then she shudders. “I'm not your mother and never will be, you understand? I would never want you as my son, you freak of a child.”

Harry fights back tears.

“Who is, then?” he whispers.

“You don't have a mother, you idiot.”

One of the words he learns that day is orphan.

-

It frustrates Harry how it fits so perfectly. Sirius is spelled soft and warm on his tongue but dad—it’s tender and something Harry’s never got to say before and homey and it makes his cheek hurt with a smile. Harry loves how it sounds.

But he isn’t meant for it. It’s how it is. Like how he will never have his parents back. How the sky is blue. It’s how it will be.

Yet. There’s a childish part of Harry that hopes so badly, hopes with all of his snitch-sized heart and rule-defying soul that Sirius accepts him and calls him ‘son’ and —

Maybe he should write a letter to Hermione. Or Ron. They’re good at family stuff, especially Ron. Harry wonders what his best friend would say if he asked: ‘Mate, what do you do when you feel like calling your godfather ‘dad’?

He probably wouldn’t know, nor Hermione, Harry thinks, chewing his morsel for far longer than he should, staring at his plate.

The thing is, the real thing that is behind it all, that Sirius is really, when you think of it for a good while, the perfect picture for the word ‘dad’. He’s the synonym of dad, really, and Harry’s sure that if he said it to whoever wrote dictionaries, the writer would most definitely agree and immediately jot it down next to ‘dad’ and congratulate him immensely for the insight. (In his mind, he looks like Cornelius Fudge.)

And that is why, when Sirius asks Harry in his gentle voice, eyes grey and kind, if something is wrong (because Harry has been quiet throughout dinner and Sirius is sure the curry tastes alright and there’s nothing wrong Sirius has said and he’s wracking his brain if today is a date kids should be morose on but he can’t handle Harry looking so sadly at his plate, like it’s broken his heart or something) that Harry blurts, “Can I call you dad?”

Sirius blinks.

His spoon clatters on the plate.

Harry’s mouth parts as he realises what he’s said and he inhales a sharp, stuttering breath.

Way to go there, Potter. “Er—I mean…”

He doesn’t know what he means except what he said and he knows that he shouldn’t have said it and there’s an expression (shock? surprise? dread?) drenching Sirius’ face and he needs to look away and down at his plate.

Shame burns in his throat, flaming his face and his heart twists.

Harry says, “I meant…” He has no idea what he can say that would rectify this situation. He stares at his orange-red curry, imagining his face is as red as it.

“Oh, Harry…” Sirius say, voice sounding... strange. He clears his throat. “I—of course you can. If you want to.”

Harry looks up so quickly his vision greys a little. “I can?”

“Yeah, you can.” Sirius’ hand flies to his smooth hair to smoothen it.

“Oh.”

He can’t believe it. Sirius smiles; a smile that makes him think of his parents’ wedding photos, that makes Harry believe in everything, including this.

Harry’s face splits into a wide wide grin. “Um, thank you… Dad!”

Sirius’ smile wobbles. “Come here, kid.” Sirius gets up and raises his arms, inviting Harry for a hug. Harry rushes forward, chair screeching, heart soaring in delight, and burrows himself in the tight hold of his godfather, and—dad.

Hello, I’m sliding in to rec some harry-sirius fics! I hope you feel better <3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15185291/chapters/35216588 (their other stuff is rly nice too!)

https://archiveofourown.org/series/2423029 (shameless self rec; it’s a series but most fics fit the criteria, i’d say)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5004910

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33064150/chapters/82075771

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035257 (the bond of family series is reaaaaally good imo)

i hope you like these, i have some more in my bookmarks, if you’d like more 🙈

hi hi thank you! five!! you're great! i'm going to devour them now for the rest of the evening <3

i think he would heal harry before the reprimand

“are you trying to make me angry?”

The question comes out as more of a demand, but Harry is surprised to hear Sirius’ voice as soft and firm instead of the loud and angry tone he would have expected with such a statement.

Regardless, it’s enough to render Harry silent and send his gaze to his shoes, which are dirty and splattered with stray flecks of blood.

“You don’t take curses for me,” Sirius states plainly, akin to saying the sky is blue or Blast-Ended Skrewts are dangerous. His eyes are steel as they flicker down to the side of Harry’s t-shirt, which is slowly turning crimson. “You don’t jump in front of any spell headed for me. I don’t care if it’s Avada Kedavra or Felix Felicis in some sort of miraculous charm form. You. Don’t. Do. That. Do you hear me?” Each word comes out short and punches Harry straight in the gut.

Harry can only nod wordlessly, his eyes fixed to the floor. Sirius takes a step closer and gently forces Harry’s chin upwards with his forefinger. 

“I protect you remember?” Sirius says softly. “That’s the gift I was lucky to receive when your parents made me your godfather. I look out for you. Not the other way around. You got it?”

Harry nods again, his own eyes burning as he looks into Sirius’ own grey ones. Behind the frustration, Harry realizes, he can only see pure love. 

Sirius sighs and releases Harry’s chin, instead slinging his arm around Harry’s shoulders.

“C’mon. Let’s get that side checked out.” 

to me too... I was crying rivers and canals and my friends were just at me and saying "Hey what happened?" And the MFs cried over cedrics death😑

Fuck this shit

Sirius is explicitly, canonically, the closest Harry has to a parent.

Here’s why:

Sirius is his godfather. He was appointed as his godfather in the middle of a war. He is his rightful guardian and is literally the only one with actual legal authority when it comes to Harry.

(He is also the only one Harry actually regards as as a parental figure, which is why it confuses the heck out of me when people make it out to be some kind of competition. There is no competition. There is no list of candidates to choose from. Sirius is the only adult Harry actually thinks of as a parent to him. He is literally the only legitimate candidate.) 

The first thing he did after seeing that Lily and James were murdered was try and take custody of Harry. He argued against giving him to the Dursleys. He wanted to take responsibility for his godson right from the get-go. His first priority was always Harry.

He single-handedly breaks out of Azkaban, a feat no one has ever accomplished or will ever accomplish in history, literally risking his soul, because he wants to protect Harry.

He travels all the way to Privet Drive just to catch a glimpse of Harry. A glimpse. 

He comes to watch Harry play Quidditch just cause. 

He sees that Harry’s broom is broken and sends him a motherfucking Firebolt as 13 years’ worth of birthday presents from his godfather, shut up, i’m not crying

His first instinct when they meet (other than killing the piece of scum that is Wormtail) is to shield Harry. He gets furious at Wormtail for even looking at Harry, he relives some of the worst moments of his life to try and give Harry and the others some context on the situation, he respects and listens to Harry when he requests them to not kill Wormtail.

He asked Harry if he wants to live with him at his first available opportunity, fully understanding if Harry would prefer otherwise, but being so fucking happy when Harry says yes. They don’t even make it to the end of the tunnel before he asks him that!

(This is the moment where Harry officially starts thinking of him as family, btw, to the extent to which it becomes the happiest moment of his life so far.)

He somehow realizes that Harry isn’t allowed in Hogsmeade and signs the form for him.

He sent Harry a gorgeous birthday cake while being on the run.

He has been writing letters to Harry over the summer, getting to know him, inquiring about Harry’s daily life, and it’s gotten to a point where Harry feels comfortable low-key bitching about Dudley’s diet habits to him. 

He also keeps reminding Harry to call on him if he needs help in anything.

When Harry’s scar hurt, and he wishes that he had a parent to confess to, he immediately feels stupid for not thinking of Sirius sooner. At this point, he has known Remus for a year, he has stayed at the Weasleys’ house, and he regularly visits Hagrid, and yet the first and only person he thinks of is Sirius. Sirius is the only adult he actually regards as a parental figure in his life.

When Sirius receives the letter, he flies back into the country, crouches in caves, lives on rats, and risks recapture, all so he could be closer to Harry.

The entire fireplace scene. The thought of talking to Sirius is the only thing getting Harry through the worst two weeks of his life. And the moment he sees him, the entire fucking dam shatters, and he pours out all his emotions to Sirius, from his terror at what he’s going to face to more trivial worries like his sudden unpopularity and the lack of support from Ron. This is the first time he has actually let himself vent to an adult like this, the first time he actually wants to vent to an adult. And Sirius listens patiently to him blow off steam with an expression so full of concern, and would have solved all his worries by telling him how to get past the dragon had they not been interrupted.

But people will still claim that (*insert any other adult*) somehow knows Harry better than Sirius. Lmao. 

While Mrs. Weasley was believing  Rita Skeeter’s articles on how Harry weeps over his dead parents and sending Hermione immature passive-aggressive Easter Eggs, Sirius was listening to Harry’s actual feelings regarding this whole mess, but no, by all means, keep arguing that she is somehow more of a mother to him than Sirius is a father.

Sirius also informs Harry about the various current and historical contexts + his personal suspicions regarding this whole mess, to try and let him have a more comprehensive view on the whole situation so he can be on his guard.

His first reaction at actually explaining things in-depth to the Trio was to say “you’re too young, you won’t understand”. But after they ask him to tell them more, he does, and he does it in a very articulate way that gives both us and them proper clarity on how things were back then.

He keeps reminding Harry to stay cautious and to be on his guard, reprimands him when for being out-of-bounds past curfew, and makes him promise to remain within the castle and to not venture out. This is totally someone who is careless and irresponsible when it comes to his godson’s safety, amirite? 

He gives Harry good practical advice, telling him to try and practice useful hexes and jinxes, which we know are extremely useful to Harry both for the task and for his life later on.

He sends Harry daily letters before the last task, and then gives him an adorable good-luck paw print. Aww.

He apparently made arrangements with Dumbledore to meet Harry after the third task.

He immediately argues for Harry to sleep after he emerges from the graveyard.

He stays behind Harry, with his hand on Harry’s shoulder, as Harry recounts what happened to him.

He stays with Harry through the night in the hospital wing and is pissed as fuck at Fudge for doubting Harry’s credibility. 

He sets off to alert the other Order members, but reassures Harry that they will meet again very, very soon, realizing that Harry didn’t want him to go.

He has, once again, been sending Harry letters over the summer, and is 1) the only one who is understanding for how hard his situation must be, and 2) the only one reminding him not to act out and encouraging caution.

He sends Harry a letter immediately after Arthur informs them of what happened, which says, “STAY INSIDE THE HOUSE NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO”. This is totally someone who is brashand irresponsible, right?

He is the single adult who actively wants Harry to have a general idea of what has been happening, both with the Order and Voldemort, because he correctly recognizes that Harry has been frustrated while being at his aunt and uncle’s the whole summer, and that Harry has been through enough to deserve to know what is happening. This is good.  Giving Harry general information is 100% in Harry’s best interests, because Harry likes being respected, likes being aware of what is going on, and feels unrested and worried when he’s kept out of the loop. Dumbledore acknowledges at the end of the book that he should have told Harry everything and should not have left him in the dark.

He is also the single adult who shows even the slightest, mildest inclination to tell Harry anything about the prophecy, which Dumbledore once again admits he should have done right from the start.

It takes a special kind of mental gymnastics to feel furious on Harry’s behalf that no adult kept him informed on what was going on, and then say that Sirius, the only adult who did want to keep him informed on what was going on, was brash and irresponsible for having those opinions. 

He answers Harry’s questions regarding his family, even though you can tell talking about them is clearly affecting him.

He reassures Harry about the trial when he realizes that Harry is upset, and then once again reassures him and gets him to smile on the morning before it.

He wants to accompany Harry to the trial because he wants to get out of his depression-inducing house for moral support.

He shuts himself up in the room rather than burden Harry with his problems and his unwanted thoughts.

He tries to give Harry a farewell-hug as a dog. Awww.

He shows up at the Gryffindor fireplace to reassure Harry about his letter and to answer the Trio’s questions on Umbridge and Hagrid, and reminds Harry to not go around asking too many questions. He also lashes out with the “you’re aren’t as much like your father than I thought line”, which I have always seen as a petty, immature guilt-trip that is a direct parallel to Remus also using James to try and guilt-trip Harry in DH. And while it definitely doesn’t change the fact that it’s a shitty thing to say to your godson, I wish more people would realize that this is the one and only time he actually screws up when he comes to Harry. He has never spoken to Harry like this before and never will again. It is completely ridiculous to define his relationship with Harry on his single and only bad moment as a godfather.

He shows up at the Gryffindor fireplace and supports the idea of the D.A because “there is someone outside school wanting to kill us all and the Ministry isn’t teaching you anything, so I think learning to defend yourselves is a very good idea!” Which I 100% agree with. The D.A is a good idea, the fandom and the text both agree with it. Which makes them criticizing Sirius for having the exact same opinion as them even more confusing. Because the fact is, he gives us his reasons for approving of it, and they are all valid reasons. Nothing from what he says at all indicates that he is living through them or egging them on the way Hermione says he is, which makes it perfectly reasonable for me to completely disregard her view on it.

When Arthur is attacked, he is absolutely wonderful, keeping the kids from doing anything stupid, trying to make them understand the situation at hand, keeping his temper even after Fred lashes out, and staying with them through the night, reassuring them that they will know what happens because their mother is there with Arthur. And yet the only thing the fandom seems to remember from this scene is that he had been drinking.

When Harry tells him that he felt Voldemort rising in him, he tries and fails to convince Harry that it’s nothing, telling him to sleep, and immediately informs Dumbledore of what Harry told him.

He is determined that Harry and the others have a good Christmas at Grimmauld Place, and spends all his time decorating the house to ensure that.

He insists on remaining in the room during Snape’s conversation with Harry.

He tells Snape to stop giving Harry orders in Harry’s own godfather’s house.

He tries to argue for Dumbledore teaching Harry Occlumency instead of Snape.

He warns Snape not to give Harry a hard time during Occlumency, and then gets furious when Snape insults both Harry and Harry’s dead father as a response.

He gives Harry a mirror to let him know if Snape is acting like an ass.

He is literally the only adult to correctly realize that Snape teaching Harry Occlumency was a disastrously terrible idea, something that Dumbledore admits he should have realized right from the get-go.

He tries and succeeds in giving Harry proper context after SWM and reassuring him that his father was a good guy, which allows Harry to have a more balanced view on his father while also comforting Harry.

He refuses to stay hidden in Grimmauld Place after learning that Harry was in danger, because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he did. He risks his freedom, his life, his soul, all to protect Harry.

He is the first one to realize that Harry is in danger from Dolohuv and rams into Dolohuv to keep him away from Harry.

He tells Harry to grab his friend + the prophecy and get out of the Depatment of Mysteries.

He very specifically calls Harry by his own damn name.

He leaves everything he owns to Harry, including his house and his money.

He gives Harry all his love as a ghost, reassuring him that death is not painful and telling him that they will always be a part of him.

HE IS CANONICALLY THE CLOSEST HARRY HAS TO A PARENT AND THE ONLY ADULT HARRY ACTUALLY REGARDS AS A PARENTAL FIGURE TO HIM

LISTEN TO HARRY ON THIS

Idk y hes stealing Molly's lines but I do know i love this

“have you gone from me?”

Sirius voice is soft, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of Harry’s pale face as he lets out a groan. The boy’s thin limbs twitch from the lingering effects of the Cruciatus.

“No, I’m here,” Harry mutters. “Fuck. This hurts like hell. No wonder they call it an Unforgiveable. I sure as hell won’t be forgiving Bellatrix any time soon.”

Sirius doesn’t crack a smile. “I’m gonna call Pomfrey. The potion shouldn’t be letting you feel anything.”

“No wait,” says Harry through gritted teeth. “I think that’s the last of it.” Indeed, as soon as he’s done speaking, his arms and legs still.

Sirius lets out a sigh of relief. “You hurting anywhere else?”

“No. I think Pomfrey gave me enough to knock out an threstral.”

Sirius’ lips twitch. “Then should I be concerned that you’re still conscious?”

“Nah. I’m always an anomaly when it comes to healing.” Despite his words, Harry’s head starts to loll to the side and his breathing begins to slow. Sirius reaches for his hand and intertwines their fingers.

“I don’t like seeing you hurt,” Sirius says quietly. Harry cracks one eye open.

“I’d be concerned if you did,” he responds. 

Sirius’ face darkens. “Next time I see her, she’s dead.” 

“Good,” Harry breathes, the word barely intelligible as he drifts into unconsciousness.

“Have you gone from me?” Sirius whispers, eyes locked on the still face of his child. There’s no response. Sirius leans forward and kisses his forehead. He rises up out of his chair, untangling his fingers from Harry’s now-lax hand, and moves towards the door.

“Not my kid, you bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he strides out of the hospital wing, wand in his hand.

i am gonna die if this fic doesnt end up being posted

not-six-sentence it's-not-sunday

seeing this on my dash and i haven’t been tagged but i like it, so here, have a snippet from a fic where Sirius finds out about Harry’s abuse at the Dursleys post-PoA.....

“Look, Harry... are you uncomfortable with me asking questions?”

“No, it’s - okay.”

“You don’t seem so, love.” The endearment slips out of Sirius casually, without a second thought, and it takes him a moment to realize why Harry’s looking at Sirius with slightly widened eyes. He tilts his head. “Are you okay with that?”

“With what...?” Harry’s voice is a little high.

“Endearments.”

Harry swallows, shrugs. “Yeah, I guess... I’ve never had it before.”

Sirius’ chest knots. “Never?”

“Yeah. But, I like it.”

He exhales a tight coil of breath. “Alright, love.”

can someone tag me the name of this fic pls?

picturing harry and sirius bonding moments right now because i’m having a terrible time and i need to distract myself from real life bullshit

- cooking together. sirius learnt some from effie yeaaaaaaars ago but time + azkaban has effectively taken him back to square one. harry, who grew up having to cook for the dursleys and act as sous chef for petunia all the time, is very proficient. he’s got all the basics down pat (bc efficiency was—necessary when cooking for vernon and dudley) and now that he can, he’s not afraid of experimenting and trying things out. harry teaching sirius little tips and tricks, both of them spending hours in the kitchen just getting to know each other in a way they hadn’t been able to so far.

- sirius and harry going out into the muggle world. it’s an act of rediscovery for both of them. harry, who’d never been allowed to go out, and sirius, who’s last excursion was with james before azkaban the potters had gone into hiding. they do all the cringy tourist shit like going on the london eye, taking a photo in front of the buckingham palace, wearing trashy ‘l<3nd<3n’ t-shirts, the whole deal. eating greasy fish and chips, and waffles on a stick, and everything in between.

- harry taking padfoot out for a walk (bc sometimes sirius needs to just,,,unwind), playing fetch and jumping into fountains. padfoot chasing pigeons and harry laughing his head off. laying down, exhausted, on the grass, harry fully draped over padfoot’s back.

- stargazing. sirius pointing to different stars, connecting it to people, and telling harry about funny, mildly concerning, black family history that operated as nighttime stories for anyone who grew up in that household. it’s all gruesome tales about murder and betrayal and illegal magic usage and dark magics. harry is so concerned for his godfather like ‘wtf how did u turn out ok??’ and sirius is just like ‘are u absolutely sure about that 🤭’

anyway. i just want slice-of-life bonding to make up for 12 years of separation. sirius getting to know his godson as a teen/young adult instead of the babbling toddler he was used to. harry basically getting to know him for the first time. not having to worry about shit like the war and voldy and dementors, just having fun and living their best lives.

no thoughts just james potter, quidditch whiz, worried out of his mind chasing after his toddler who’s riding a baby broomstick— while his wife laughs at him in the background

(sirius, somewhere on his order mission: *cackling his head off*)

“are you sure?”

Sirius pauses in front of the stove, pointing his wand at the flame to lower its intensity before turning to face Harry, who’s looking quite nervous. “You know, you’ve asked me that question so many times that I’m beginning to wonder whether you want to me to come to the match.”

Harry flushes. ‘I do want you there! I mean it. It’s just that, if you’re busy or have better things to do, it’s okay if you don’t want to come. Actually, I’m sure you have better things to do, you’ve only just been freed, and you probably want to.. I dunno,. go to the shops or something or-” 

“Can I cut in before your rambling cuts off your oxygen?” Sirius interjects gently. He glances back at the stew bubbling on the stove before returning his gaze to Harry. 

Harry gives him a sheepish smile. “I suppose so.”

Sirius laughs. “Thank you for your graciousness, Your Majesty. Now, it is precisely because I’ve just been freed that I want to come to your match more than anything. I’d much rather support you as a human in the stands as opposed to a dog by the forest. It’s a much better view, you see.” He gives the contents of the pot a quick stir before returning his focus to Harry, his tone turning a bit more serious. “I know we’re new at this. This you and me being a family thing. But I want you to know that I’ll be at all of your games because I want to be there, and I want to cheer you on. I’ve missed out on a lot of your life, and I really don’t plan on voluntarily skiving out on any more. I’m proud of you and want to see you be excellent. And trounce the Slytherins while you’re at it. Got it?”

Harry lets out a small sigh. “Okay. But if you ever have anything better to do, I won’t be mad or anything.”

“I’ll never have anything better to do,” Sirius promises. “You’re quite a brilliant player, mate. There’s not much better entertainment than that. I’d die of boredom if I didn’t come to your matches. You’re even better than your dad was.”

Harry blushes at the praise, but also straightens up a bit with pride. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely,” Sirius assures. “Now come over here and have a taste of this stew. It’s my secret recipe, and I swear you’ll love it.”

To throw up confetti! Again!

(wrote this for all the sirius + harry fans who were having rough days yesterday ((more than one??? y'all good??)). have some fluff? maybe? i don't even know anymore.)

-

"Budge over," Sirius said as he sat down on the edge of his godson's bed, Harry currently laying in it with a hooded sweatshirt pulled over his head in the dead of summer, and as far as Sirius knew, this had been the outfit of choice for a few days now.

Since Harry had come home from a date and retreated to his bedroom, some melancholic record playing loud enough to signal to Remus and Sirius that something terrible had happened.

The first night Harry had cried.

The second night Harry had shouted at the both of them.

The third night Harry had decided the silent treatment was the best course of action and he was going to stay in his bedroom no matter how many times Sirius offered to buy him anything under the sun or Remus tempted with heartbreak dessert.

"I don't want to talk, Sirius," Harry mumbled, scooting over a minuscule amount to allow his godfather to join him in bed. Sirius took the space though, moving so he could lean against Harry's headboard, one arsecheek on the bed, the other hanging half off.

"Okay, you don't have to," Sirius said, clasping his hands together and resting them on his stomach. "Thought you might like some company though."

"Why would you think that?" He asked roughly, rolling to his side to avoid eye contact or interaction.

"Because you're sad. Because I raised you and know that when you get hurt, you want someone to stay with you. Like when you fell off your bike down that hill?" Harry twisted his neck slightly so he could look at Sirius, "Went too fast...fell so hard. I don't think I've ever ran so quickly in my life to get to you."

"I was fine though...nothing was broken."

"Oh no, but your knees had some bad scrapes on them, a few bruises. I didn't know having something physically broken was the threshold for injury."

"I just mean it wasn't that bad."

"At nine it was. And the whole day you just wanted to be around one of us. Slept in our bed too."

"I'm not nine," Harry muttered, though he moved so he could mimic Sirius's position, sitting up slightly and folding his hands over his stomach, Harry's pointy elbow touching Sirius's.

"You're not, I don't even wish you were anymore, you were a little hellion."

"What? No, I wasn't."

"You used to hang upside down off the third floor, do you remember that? Climb over the railings and hook your feet in and just drop. I'm actually shocked I'm still alive after witnessing that a few times."

Harry cracked a small smile, "Well that was the fun part..."

"Mhmm, I know it was. See? Nothing but trouble," Sirius nudged Harry with this shoulder, noticing that his godson had moved closer to Sirius as he spoke, their elbows overlapping. "But...thing is, even if you had fallen off the railing, or the banister collapsed and you came with it. We'd bandage you up, figure it out, fix the railing. It gets a bit harder when the hurt isn't physical. Nothing's broken, not really, right now and yet..."

"Fucking sucks."

"Broken hearts really fucking suck," Sirius responded, nodding.

"It...just sucks to feel like he didn't want me anymore. What do I do about that?" Harry asked and looked up to Sirius, their shoulders now pressed together. Sirius took a chance, moving one of his arms off his stomach and wrapping it around Harry.

Harry didn't pull away or fidget under the touch. Not a single eye roll.

"You...sit here, and you listen to all the sad music," Sirius started, deciding to leave out the moment in time where he thought he was going to charm Harry's record player off after hearing "I Had a King" for the 30th time, "and you...let someone sit with you until it doesn't hurt so much. Scrapped knees heal, so do hearts."

"You sure?"

"Well the alternative is you being heartbroken for the rest of your life and never leaving your bedroom and I'm okay with that too," Sirius said, "I'll still hang out with you. I'll grow a long white beard sitting here with you."

Harry put his head on Sirius's chest, and Sirius's hand went to the back of Harry's head, resting on messy black hair. "I...I don't think it'll be that long. You know?"

"Yeah."

(wrote this for all the sirius + harry fans who were having rough days yesterday ((more than one??? y'all good??)). have some fluff? maybe? i don't even know anymore.)

-

"Budge over," Sirius said as he sat down on the edge of his godson's bed, Harry currently laying in it with a hooded sweatshirt pulled over his head in the dead of summer, and as far as Sirius knew, this had been the outfit of choice for a few days now.

Since Harry had come home from a date and retreated to his bedroom, some melancholic record playing loud enough to signal to Remus and Sirius that something terrible had happened.

The first night Harry had cried.

The second night Harry had shouted at the both of them.

The third night Harry had decided the silent treatment was the best course of action and he was going to stay in his bedroom no matter how many times Sirius offered to buy him anything under the sun or Remus tempted with heartbreak dessert.

"I don't want to talk, Sirius," Harry mumbled, scooting over a minuscule amount to allow his godfather to join him in bed. Sirius took the space though, moving so he could lean against Harry's headboard, one arsecheek on the bed, the other hanging half off.

"Okay, you don't have to," Sirius said, clasping his hands together and resting them on his stomach. "Thought you might like some company though."

"Why would you think that?" He asked roughly, rolling to his side to avoid eye contact or interaction.

"Because you're sad. Because I raised you and know that when you get hurt, you want someone to stay with you. Like when you fell off your bike down that hill?" Harry twisted his neck slightly so he could look at Sirius, "Went too fast...fell so hard. I don't think I've ever ran so quickly in my life to get to you."

"I was fine though...nothing was broken."

"Oh no, but your knees had some bad scrapes on them, a few bruises. I didn't know having something physically broken was the threshold for injury."

"I just mean it wasn't that bad."

"At nine it was. And the whole day you just wanted to be around one of us. Slept in our bed too."

"I'm not nine," Harry muttered, though he moved so he could mimic Sirius's position, sitting up slightly and folding his hands over his stomach, Harry's pointy elbow touching Sirius's.

"You're not, I don't even wish you were anymore, you were a little hellion."

"What? No, I wasn't."

"You used to hang upside down off the third floor, do you remember that? Climb over the railings and hook your feet in and just drop. I'm actually shocked I'm still alive after witnessing that a few times."

Harry cracked a small smile, "Well that was the fun part..."

"Mhmm, I know it was. See? Nothing but trouble," Sirius nudged Harry with this shoulder, noticing that his godson had moved closer to Sirius as he spoke, their elbows overlapping. "But...thing is, even if you had fallen off the railing, or the banister collapsed and you came with it. We'd bandage you up, figure it out, fix the railing. It gets a bit harder when the hurt isn't physical. Nothing's broken, not really, right now and yet..."

"Fucking sucks."

"Broken hearts really fucking suck," Sirius responded, nodding.

"It...just sucks to feel like he didn't want me anymore. What do I do about that?" Harry asked and looked up to Sirius, their shoulders now pressed together. Sirius took a chance, moving one of his arms off his stomach and wrapping it around Harry.

Harry didn't pull away or fidget under the touch. Not a single eye roll.

"You...sit here, and you listen to all the sad music," Sirius started, deciding to leave out the moment in time where he thought he was going to charm Harry's record player off after hearing "I Had a King" for the 30th time, "and you...let someone sit with you until it doesn't hurt so much. Scrapped knees heal, so do hearts."

"You sure?"

"Well the alternative is you being heartbroken for the rest of your life and never leaving your bedroom and I'm okay with that too," Sirius said, "I'll still hang out with you. I'll grow a long white beard sitting here with you."

Harry put his head on Sirius's chest, and Sirius's hand went to the back of Harry's head, resting on messy black hair. "I...I don't think it'll be that long. You know?"

"Yeah."

why don’t we talk about muslim kids in hogwarts during ramadan? imagine waking up at 3 every morning and walking down for suhoor, to find the house elves have prepared a feast for them. imagine the kids having an extended curfew, so they can go and eat iftar at 10, where the house elves once again provide a ten course meal, topped with dates and traditional delicacies from around the world. imagine the kids being allowed to go into the kitchens in the middle of the night if they were still in the mood to eat. imagine the kids being allowed to leave class to do their prayers, and spending lunch times to read the quran. we need to talk more about muslim kids in hogwarts.

aww

Remus lupin- tell me a character/ship from harry and a situation I will write a short paragraph for them, and how they would react

regulus black meeting the potters for the first time properly after he ran away with sirius (lets pretend he ran away and got away from that toxic abusive household?)

Okay okay okay!

So.

Regulus was hidden behind sirius, not that sirius was trying to protect him from the potters, just that regulus was worried about how they would react. sirius rung the doorbell and Regulus jumped slightly.  miss Potter opened the door with a welcoming smile, regulus doesn’t think she noticed him yet. She brought sirius in for a hug.

Regulus stood still while they hugged, scared to move and for this reality to fall away. Miss potter looked over sirius’s shoulder at that point, and noticed him standing there.

“Who’s this sirius?”

“Regulus, my brother” he started simply, “I was hoping you may be able to help us both for a while, until we find a place of our own. I couldnt leave him behind”

“Oh sirius, of course that’s alright! More than! You, and your brother are both welcome here” she held sirius at arms length, before reaching out for younger black, and pulling him into a warm hug.

“Oh” regulus squeaked out, the first thing he had said since leaving the house. “Thank you miss potter”

Regulus felt like for once, he was home.

You cut onion in my eyes!

Sirius being a super protective older brother.

Sirius having near daily panic attacks after regulus had refused to come with him when he ran away to james’.

Sirius acting like he hates his brother but theres always a twinge of sadness in his eyes whenever hes brought up. Something that only the mauraders can see. Something that they know means sirius still loves his brother and has hope for him.

Sirius having constant dreams about regulus. About what his family does to regulus now that sirius is gone.

Dreams that scarily mimic the way sirius was treated.

Sirius finding out about regulus becoming a death eater and having multiple panic attacks daily.

Sirius muttering in his sleep about “regulus is gonna die”

Sirius never knowing that regulus came around even after his death.

Sirius having more consistent panic attacks after his brothers death. Something he hadnt experienced since he was in school.

Sirius knowing that the one thing the dementors would be able to take from him is his memories of regulus. Memories from when they were still friends.

Sirius being paranoid that those memories would be corrupted by the dementors.

Sirius turning into a dog the mere second that regulus crosses his mind.

Sirius hearing talk about regulus from death eaters in azkaban.

Sirius being flooded with emotion as soon as he gets out of azkaban knowing that he can finally think about regulus.

Regulus immediatley tackling sirius in a hug as soon as he comes to the after life.

Regulus have a panic attack chanting “im sorry” still hugging sirius.

Regulus, calming down, finally being able to explain.

“IM SORRY OK?? BECAUSE YOU WERE SO RIGHT. so so right. I shouldve listened to you siri”.

Sirius only being able to hold regulus so tightly because neither of them were ones for expressing emotions.

Regulus knowing that this meant that sirius wasnt mad.

Regulus still crying, this time happy tears, because sirius wasnt mad! Sirius forgives him!

Sirius knowing he was never truly mad at regulus because he knew what his family was like. He understood wanting his mothers approval even if he did spend his entire life trying to make her as disappointed as possible.

Eeeeee!!!! So cute!!! Eeeeeeeee!! I crazy, eeeee!!! But who cares?! Eeeee!!!!!..

What do u think james would have been like as a father

Oh boy, here we go.

Anon, this might be my favourite ask ever. Ever, do you hear me? So take a seat because this is going to be a long one.

It goes without saying that he would have been incredible, yes, but in what way?

(Under the cut because it got too long)

I don't think Harry was planned, purely because of the war. If it hadn't been for that, I think he would have still wanted to be a dad, without a doubt, and a young one at that: being raised by elderly parents probably made him realise that he was luckier than his parents, because they never got to see him grow up, grow old. Little did he know...

James adored being a young dad. He loved the fun bits and the ugly bits. Harry helped him become the man he was destined to be. In the 15 months they shared together (don't worry I'll answer your question in a moment), James was forced to learn some hard truths and make tough decisions. I've always seen him as someone who had a 'black and white' mindset when it comes to right or wrong: it was simple for him, and he couldn't really understand why people did bad things when they knew they were wrong. Well, he knew why, but it only started making sense when he became a father, because suddenly he realised how much he had underestimated the privilege of being able to choose. Having a kid during a war took a toll on him and changed him, because now he was forced to decide whether he was a father first or a soldier. And it was a choice he had to make every day.

He also had to choose what kind of father he was going to be. The kind who comes back from a mission and drinks himself into oblivion, or the one who goes straight to his wife and son and despite being bone-tired and with muscles that ache at every step, he's there for them with a smile on his face. And don't get me wrong, I do believe he did get drunk and felt utterly defeated sometimes. He could have done that and he knew no one would have judged him for it, but he couldn't let the bad days outnumber the good ones.

Let's pretend nothing bad happened on Halloween 1981, and that Voldemort died and everyone got their happy ending:

James is the kind of dad who has long conversations with his babbling two year old, where he pretends to talk about politics and books and Quidditch without using baby voices.

He does use baby voices sometimes, though. Mainly when Harry won't eat his peas or when James has to change his nappy (honestly I hope wizards use them, otherwise the poor babies just have to sit in their poop until someone vanishes it). He does impressions of all his Hogwarts professors, but Harry's favourite is Filch, he laughs so much he makes James laugh too.

He sings 'Beautiful Boy' when Harry can't fall asleep, a smile painted on his face, and when Harry's brows start to relax he whispers the rest of the lyrics, brushing his hair until his eyes close and his breath becomes even (credits to this post for the headcanon).

He's an extremely concerned toddler parent, because Harry learns to run first and walk second. The little boy hates hats, and he always comes back from his walks with his hair all tangled and with leaves in it (yes, Harry dives into leaf piles before his parents can stop him). James, heartbroken, takes a bottle of Sleekeazy's and pours the product on Harry's hair, apologising the whole time.

He watches him play and talk to his toys for Merlin knows how long, hypnotised by his brilliant son.

When Harry accidentally makes Sirius' pancake float towards his plate, James picks up his son and starts dancing with him around the kitchen, singing a made up song that Sirius will mock him for every time he has the chance. By noon, James has not only decided he's going to throw a party in honour of Harry's first accidental magic, he's also decided the menu and planned every activity. He invites Fabian and Gideon and asks to bring their nephews too because the more the merrier, and that's how Ron becomes Harry's best friend.

I also thinks James would absolutely love to have a big family, so in my headcanon Harry has at least a couple of siblings. Imagine being surrounded by all those Potters... A dream for some (James) a nightmare for others (probably Petunia, who is straight up horrified the one time she pays them a visit).

James teaches Harry to fly, reads him stories every night and they even have movie nights every Wednesday, even the day after a full moon, where James falls asleep on the sofa as they watch Star Wars, and Harry goes out like a light shortly after him, head on his chest, drooling on James' shirt.

But most of all, James listens. He truly listens. He makes sure Harry never doubts his worth. He's the kind of dad who isn't afraid to show his emotions, and probably cries as Harry boards the Hogwarts Express for the first time.

When Harry gets in trouble at school for the first time, James realises that lecturing him is not that different from when he had to give out detentions as Head Boy... Except that it is, because when James has to tell him that it's wrong to put Padfoot's hairs in Malfoy's potion, Harry asks him why, and he tilts his head exactly like Lily does when she challenges him, and this kid has her eyes and James' knowing smile, but he's also clever in a way James and Lily are not, and James doesn't know what to do with this information.

Honestly, I have so many more headcanons and if I had to write all of them this post would never see the light of day, so I'll stop here and maybe I'll make a part two, who knows.

In conclusion, this James isn't a perfect dad, but he's a wonderful one. He might be too strict sometimes, and other times too lenient; he might disagree with Harry on some things, and they might fight and raise their voices. But James does everything in his power not to make Harry go to sleep angry or sad, and if it does happen, he makes sure to wake him up with a kiss on his forehead and a hug. Or maybe lots of hugs, because James is a very affectionate dad. With his parents in his life, Harry doesn't doubt for one moment that he's not worthy of being loved.

The last part its plain cute! I have nothing else to say!

Harry growing his hair long because since he was a child, that was the only thing he could control: his hair was wild and free and Aunt Petunia could not cut it.

He liked his hair, it was thick and dark and he had control over it. So he decides to grow it out.

But Harry was never really good at planning ahead. By third year, it reaches his shoulders and he shyly takes Hermione to the side to ask her about proper hair care. Hermione frets about using conditioner (Harry does) and actually brushing it (Harry doesn’t) but she can only give him vague tips because while Harry’s hair is a mess of unruly locks, Hermione’s curls are tight and messy in a completely different way.

Hermione eventually comes back to him after some thorough research at the library and a round of questions to all the other girls and is able to handle Harry a neatly written list of products that would help keep his hair healthy.

When Harry stumbles into the dormitory with new bottles, Ron raises his eyebrow and asks him if he’s finally decided to take care of that bird nest. Harry nods and Ron smiles before asking him if he’d let Ron brush it. ‘You always look like you’d rather eat a pile of Hippogriff dung,’ Ron reasons and Harry barely hears it because his mind is going haywire. He asks Ron if he knows anything about hair care anyways and Ron laughs, reminding him of Ginny and that’s the day Harry finds out his best friend can tie up a mean french braid.

He thought that letting people touch his hair would be dreadful. Harry was so sure he would hate every second of it, but instead he finds it quite delightful. When Ron’s fingers run through his locks and when Hermione rests a hand on the back of Harry’s head, he can’t help but feel calm and content. It gets presumably bad when the feeling of contentment is replaced by a proper backflip inside his chest as Ron fixes one of Harry’s bangs behind his ear. Harry tries not to think about it.

When he meets Sirius for the first time, he has long hair too. It is nothing like his, Harry thinks. Sirius’ hair is worn and thin and damaged by years of neglect and malnutrition, but the way it falls over his shoulder feels like a telltale of what it once used to be. Glorious.

It takes a while for Sirius’ hair to start looking healthy again. When Harry used his bathroom at Grimmauld Place he finds the shower supplied with the same products he would keep in the Gryffindor Tower’s lavatories and he feels warm. Maybe he could ask Sirius about his hair routine.

One day during a summer Harry is spending at Grimmauld Place, Ron galaxies away, he makes his way to the armchair Sirius is sitting on in the living room. Brush in hand, he shyly asks Sirius if he would like to fix his hair up for him a bit and Sirius smirks before saying he can do much more than that. That’s the day Harry starts considering braiding hair flawlessly might just be a Pure-blood thing.

I mean imagine him saying to lucius "I am good at escaping... right under people's _noses_" and lucius telling that to voldy and voldy legit crying😂

happy birthday to harry james potter here’s some reasons why he always has been and always will be one of my favorite characters in all of fiction:

was treated like garbage his entire childhood and still has an inexhaustible capacity for love and forgiveness

u can talk shit abt him but if u talk shit abt his friends he’ll launch a brutal verbal tirade against u

god tier sense of humor. sarcasm level 100 never misses

bravest boy on earth??? this kid found out he had to DIE to get rid of some crazy ass evil dictator and literally walked stone cold to his own death to save everyone else??

let’s not forget he liked his lightning scar at first before he found out what it rly was :( he thought it was cool :(

unheard of emotional maturity for a teenager. instantly understood that ron was insecure abt being the youngest boy in his family and not having a lot of money and always tried to find ways to make him feel better abt it

had cute lil daydreams abt being the triwizard champion before he got forced into it for real

UNmatched bisexual energy, literally always sizing everyone up and declaring them attractive or monstrous, no in between

so so humble abt his talents and abilities yes but also SO arrogant abt his moral code. he said my moral compass is the correct one and i will follow that and ur rules and laws can truly eat my ass and honestly that’s so sexy of him

animals always like him 😔

literally BORN to wield power and not abuse it. boy destroyed the elder wand bc he liked his old one better

drinks his respect women juice every morning and every night before bed rmr when he got so righteously offended that hermione suggested he thought the prince couldn’t be a woman bc he didn’t think a woman could be that smart

also rmr when he choked out mundungus for stealing shit from grimmauld djebfjnwbfne

literally so stubborn that the imperius curse barely works on him lmaoooo

successfully used crucio to defend mcgonagall’s honor like?? ok king go off!!

just the best boy in the whole world. that’s all

Personal headcanon:

Sirius was Harry's dogfather (according to harry) and well... Sirius being Sirius never corrected him sooo when they met and sirius told him firsthand that he was Harry's godfather a memory surfaced in both of their brains and they both looked at each other

"You know when you were little you used to-"

"-call you my dogfather?"

"Well, yeah - how'd you remember that?"

And harry justs shrugs

I need a fanfic about this if you know any do tell me in the comments or reblogs or whatever

Sooo umm... how about a part two (before of die off of cuteness)?

"i need your help"

The question has been posed a few times by Harry to Sirius over the years, but this is the first time Sirius looks up at him and smiles in response.

Harry is standing in the doorway of Sirius' study with a scowl on his face and a piece of silk held between his fingertips like it's a bug.

"Oh?" Sirius shuts the Ministry of Magic Legal Handbook Version 26.0 that he's been frantically flipping through for the past hours out of fear he's forgotten something and stands up.

"I don't know how to tie a tie," Harry explains. He takes a few steps into the room and tosses the fabric at Sirius, who easily catches it.

Sirius smirks. "How were you planning on surviving Hogwarts next year? Part of the uniform, you know."

Harry shrugs. "I figure you'd teach me a charm or something."

Sirius lets out a bark of laughter. "Last time I tried spell to tie a tie it nearly strangled me, so unfortunately we're gonna do this the Muggle way. Come over here."

Harry stands in front of Sirius as his godfather winds the tie around his shoulders, patiently guiding him through the twining of fabric until the tie sits neatly tied around Harry's neck.

Sirius takes a step back to look at his handiwork and nods, satisfied. "There. What do you think?"

Harry looks at his reflection in the large ornate mirror hung across the back wall of the study. "Better than being strangled, I suppose."

Sirius grins and knocks his fist gently against Harry's chin. "You know, you didn't have to wear a tie. It'll only be the two of us and the Wizenmagot official"

"Remus isn't coming?"

Sirius shakes his head. "No, not allowed."

Harry frowns and opens his mouth, but then closes it without saying anything.

Sirius gives him a knowing look. "It's bullshit, but it's the laws. But like I said, you didn't have to wear a tie. The Wizenmagot official's going to perform the ceremony regardless of how fancy you look."

Harry shrugs. "It's an important day for me."

Sirius can't help but smile. "Not everyday you get adopted. You sure you're not having any last minute doubts?"

Harry shakes his head emphatically. "No, never." He makes a noise, as if he's going to add something, and then hesitates. Sirius waits patiently. "Do you think my dad would be mad? That I'm, you know, getting a new dad?"

Sirius' heart stutters as Harry voices the same question he's asked himself for the past five years. He wraps his arm around Harry's shoulder and draws him close, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Absolutely not. I think your dad would want you to be happy, no matter what. And he wouldn't have made me your godfather if he didn't want me taking care of you. Does this-" he gestures between their two bodies. "-make you happy?"

Harry nods into Sirius' chest. "Yeah."

"Good. Me too. I think your dad would be happy too."

They stand in silence for a moment before Harry speaks up. "Thanks. For adopting me."

Sirius presses his face into Harry's hair and smiles. "Nothing to thank me for kiddo. It's my absolute joy to be your dad."

A few moments pass by before Sirius speaks up again. "We should probably get going though. Wizenmagot official might die of old age if we get there too late."

James: do you want to go around the world bro?

Sirius: yeah bro

James: same bro *goes around Sirius*

Sirius: why did you go around me bro?

James: because you are my world bro

Sirius: bro