“dear sirius” and “dear harry” [not required reading but may be fun] helped push this process but the real seed was planted because of @greyeyedmonster-18‘s Dear Prongs,… Love Always, Padfoot [for the general letter bit] and The Best Worst Thing to Have Ever Happened [Part 5] [for the parenting books bit]. read those first pls (and all her other stuff) or i’ll fight you. right now. square up i dare u.
Your kid can really be a nuisance sometimes you know? I leave him alone for two minutes, TWO, and he manages to turn his hair blue, summon his toy broomstick through the couch (yes, through), and make the decision to wear his oatmeal instead of eat it. And I prepared it on the stove (the Muggle way) like Lily used to! Just like she swore he liked it. I knew she was always pulling my leg.
If you were this insufferable when you were one and half then I truly feel sorry for your poor mother.
Although I must admit, your son is pretty adorable. Don’t know where he got it from (probably from his godfather. Heard he’s quite a handsome bloke). It certainly makes up for the times he turns into a little demon.
I wish you were here to see it. That way you’d be the one tearing your hair out while I made your job harder.
Miss you everyday.
Love,
Sirius
Dear James,
Snape.
As a Potions teacher.
SNAPE.
AS A POTIONS TEACHER.
AS HARRY’S POTIONS TEACHER.
Is it too late to become certified as a homeschooling teacher? Also none of the parenting books described a situation like this (save your jokes about me reading parenting books. I was nervous alright?) so what the fuck do I do?!
My head may explode soon. Knowing how freaky Snivellus is, he’ll probably use my brain guts for potions ingredients, the little slimeball.
Love,
Sirius
Dear James,
I think you may have passed on a bit more of yourself to Harry than Lily would have liked. Going after an alchemist’s immortality stone? Slaying basiliks? Battling dragons? Your kid’s got an adventure streak a mile wide. At least we were a bit tame- only snuck through some secret passages and spent nights with a werewolf as illegal Animagi. At least, tame compared to Harry
I remember one time you asked me if the worry you had for Harry would ever go away. At the time, I was sure it would. The extent of your worries seemed limited to whether or not Harry would crash his toy broomstick into the cat or accidentally get under the Invisibility Cloak. One day he would grow into his own person responsible for his own actions, then you wouldn’t need to worry much anymore.
But what the hell did I know? As much as Harry felt like my kid then, it’s nothing compared to how it feels now. To tell you the complete truth (which we always did, no matter what), the worry never goes away. It somehow gets worse. Because now I’m worried that there’s somehow residual basilisk venom stuck in his veins or that dragon fire will burn him to a crisp, not to mention the fact that there’s a prophecy that may or may not have doomed him to his death.
Sometimes I think that if you were here, you’d be handling this a lot better than I am.
Love,
Sirius
Dear James,
The worry gets a lot worse when your son has a target on his back and the entire Ministry, not to mention an evil wizard, is after him.
He’s got words carved into the back of his hand. I know you’ve seen me at my worst, but I assure you that I have never wanted to kill someone more than when Harry told me about that woman and what she had done to him.
Some days, deep down, I’m glad you’re not here to see what Harry’s gone through because I know it would break your heart. I always feel horrible for thinking that, but I can’t help it.
Love,
Sirius
Dear James,
Congratulations! You’re officially a grandfather to a beautiful boy: James Sirius.
I am not at all sore that you got the first name and I got the middle.
Sneaky bastard, you aren’t even here! I raised Harry, and he’s pretty great (all thanks to me).
Miss you more than ever.
Love,
Sirius
an um. snippet. from me. for the first time since. july :-)
• An Oxford comma walks into a bar, where it spends the evening watching the television, getting drunk, and smoking cigars.
• A dangling participle walks into a bar. Enjoying a cocktail and chatting with the bartender, the evening passes pleasantly.
• A bar was walked into by the passive voice.
• An oxymoron walked into a bar, and the silence was deafening.
• Two quotation marks walk into a “bar.”
• A malapropism walks into a bar, looking for all intensive purposes like a wolf in cheap clothing, muttering epitaphs and casting dispersions on his magnificent other, who takes him for granite.
• Hyperbole totally rips into this insane bar and absolutely destroys everything.
• A question mark walks into a bar?
• A non sequitur walks into a bar. In a strong wind, even turkeys can fly.
• Papyrus and Comic Sans walk into a bar. The bartender says, "Get out -- we don't serve your type."
• A mixed metaphor walks into a bar, seeing the handwriting on the wall but hoping to nip it in the bud.
• A comma splice walks into a bar, it has a drink and then leaves.
• Three intransitive verbs walk into a bar. They sit. They converse. They depart.
• A synonym strolls into a tavern.
• At the end of the day, a cliché walks into a bar -- fresh as a daisy, cute as a button, and sharp as a tack.
• A run-on sentence walks into a bar it starts flirting. With a cute little sentence fragment.
• Falling slowly, softly falling, the chiasmus collapses to the bar floor.
• A figure of speech literally walks into a bar and ends up getting figuratively hammered.
• An allusion walks into a bar, despite the fact that alcohol is its Achilles heel.
• The subjunctive would have walked into a bar, had it only known.
• A misplaced modifier walks into a bar owned by a man with a glass eye named Ralph.
• The past, present, and future walked into a bar. It was tense.
• A dyslexic walks into a bra.
• A verb walks into a bar, sees a beautiful noun, and suggests they conjugate. The noun declines.
• A simile walks into a bar, as parched as a desert.
• A gerund and an infinitive walk into a bar, drinking to forget.
• A hyphenated word and a non-hyphenated word walk into a bar and the bartender nearly chokes on the irony
- Jill Thomas Doyle
as a fellow bi indian this actually means so much to me!!!!!! i have heard abt this "western influence" so much that there was a time i was afraid to even admit i was bi, even to myself. so, thank you :)
actually yknow what shoutout to indian lgbt kids. to indian lesbian kids, to indian gay kids, to indian bi kids, to indian trans kids, to indian nonbinary kids, to indian ace and aro kids. you’re not under “western influence,” i promise you, there have been lgbt people throughout our history, you’re wonderful and perfect and you deserve the world. ilysm.
any recs??? plzzzzzzz-
I want a Sirius-raises-Harry-after-POA AU that’s past Sirius/James/Lily (past because they’re still dead whoops). Give me that good, good angst where Sirius suddenly is raising the child he barely knows, the child that he’d had with partners who are long dead that he hasn’t even had a chance to properly grieve yet 😭
A very specific Sirius Black rec post for @v-a-l 😘
Always - Sirius (and Lily) being badasses in an AU where James and Harry died that night.
Stealing Harry - A classic Wolfstar raising Harry fic. Might be a bit too shippy for your tastes but I do love Sirius in this.
Contrariwise - This fic has me howling every time I read it. Sirius is so good and so in-character.
Dead Men Don't Bleed - Sirius & Harry centric, and an absolutely excellent fic.
The Unforgivables - I hate Snape but this has excellent Sirius (and Harry) characterization that I have a feeling you would like.
A Life More Ordinary - Another classic Wolfstar raising Harry fic with excellent Sirius characterization.
before the door of hell lamps burned - a very long Sirius-centric AU. His characterization is excellent here.
The Many Lives of Sirius Black - Sirius is so good in this series, especially Stronger At The Broken Places. Highly competent, badass, and in-character.
awwwwwwwwh mannnn!!!!!!!
typical morning at the Potter household
omggggggg!!!!! i want thesee-
— august, tathève simonyan
[text ID: promises made by june / had rotten / by the time august came. / i’ve mistaken silence with nothingness / and unlearning it asks for courage / i know not how to muster. / this half-empty glass of orange juice, / ever-present on its throne of dust, / on this wooden table, / holds more promise than i ever will. / i, a personified you, for this is not a wall but a mirror / [personified] / i, i mean you, i mean [redacted] / you eat the sun and with your burnt tongue / try to sing songs / not about pain. / don’t you? / in july / [i] you tried to stretch the rare / moments of happiness but our feet / always seemed to stay out of the / blanket / uncovered. / how do i love something without / fully succumbing to it? / you thought you had to die for you to live, didn’t you? / you thought there’s always a spring after a winter / you didn’t think that / this vivaldian symphony hadn’t been written for bodies like ours, . did you? / in july / you didn’t know that loneliness is a crowded town / yet / it’s always been bestowed upon you / to lock the gates / and turn off the lights / every night, / did you? / june made promises it knew it couldn’t keep. / but i shall be wiser / in august.]
wooooooooooooooooooooooow
This is so beautiful and took a lot of patience!!! ✊