Warnings: mentions abusive family, gif isn’t mine, credit to original owner
Another night ending in screaming, broken glass, bloody hands, and slamming doors. Nothing unusual, but painful all the same. The breaking point’s drawing near, he’s sure of it. But for now, he’ll continue to take it day by day.
He presses a tissue to the open cuts on his hands, trying to to stop the bleeding. It soaks through, turning the tissue scarlet. The red color reminds him of home, his real home, the home where his biological family wasn’t and where his real family was. His parents could force him to call them his mother and father, but they were not his family, they never were.
They hated him, their hatred only growing stronger when they found out he’d been sorted into Gryffindor, not Slytherin like everyone else in the family tree. But he didn’t care, he loved being in Gryffindor and all the friends he’s made there so far.
Thinking of everyone in Gryffindor Tower brings up his best friend, a cocky son of a bitch by the name of James Potter. He and James had immediately become best friends on their first day at Hogwarts over six years ago. Now about to enter their seventh year at the magical institution, they were still just as close, probably even closer than they were then.
He and James exchanged owls every other day or so. But he never gave any insight to James as to the horrors he lived with on a daily basis. He didn’t want to bother him with it. Knowing James, he’d kick down the door and hex every person that got in the way of his rescue mission.
Then his thoughts travel to the other two Marauders, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to see his three friends right now when his world seemed to start crumbling to its weak foundation.
Unable to take the agony any longer, he turned on the spot and appeared on the Potters’ doorstep. Rapping his knuckles softly against the wooden door, he notices his blood stained hand leaves a splatter of scarlet on the white paint. He clenches his jaw, knowing he’s already inflicted damage to what could be his safe haven.
The door slowly swings open, revealing a sleepy Mrs. Potter dressed in a red flannel robe and fuzzy house slippers. “Sirius?” she asks surprised to see the grey eyes boy at this hour of the night.
“H-hello,” he stumbles through his words, his eyes never leaving his shoes.
She reaches out and pulls him through the doorway into the house. “Get in here, you’re soaking wet and covered in blood,” she gasps. He hadn’t even noticed it was raining, he had been to lost in his own despair.
Mrs. Potter leads Sirius through the house and over to the kitchen sink. She grabs a towel and starts to clean the wounds covering his hands.
“Aunt Euphemia, what was all that noise?” a quiet female voice asks. A (Y/H/C) haired girl descends the stairs in a oversized maroon hoodie and grey shorts. You rub your eyes as comes into the kitchen, but widen them when you see Sirius.
Mrs. Potter looks over Sirius’ shoulder at the confused girl. “(Y/N), love, go back to sleep. It’s nothing to worry about,” she says hurriedly. She turns back to Sirius’ injuries.
The raven haired boy raises an eyebrow at his best friend’s mother. “James’ cousin,” she answers his quizzical look. Sirius nods in response, wondering why James had never mentioned his cousin before.
You enter the kitchen and notices the blood splattered across Sirius’ pale skin. “Oh, he’s hurt!” you exclaim. “Let me help, Aunt Euphemia, I’m studying to be a healer.”
Mrs. Potter steps out of the way, letting you take over. You pull your wand out from where you were keeping it in the waistband of your shorts. You take Sirius’ hands in one of your own and begin to mutter healing spells. He watches as his wounds start to close up immediately, surprised at how quickly James’ cousin is able to heal them.
Once you finish, Sirius admires your handiwork. The only things that remain are thin white scars stretching like branches of a tree across his slender fingers and down towards the top of his hand.
You grimace. “If I had been able to get to you faster, I probably could’ve prevented the scarring. Sorry about that,” you admit, glancing from his hands to his stormy eyes.
Sirius can’t help but smile. “It’s quite alright, darling,” he replies, hopping down from where he was sitting on the counter. It isn’t until now that you realize how much taller he is than you.
He heads up the stairs towards James’ room. “G'night!” he calls over his shoulder as he reaches the landing.
“Goodnight Sirius,” Mrs. Potter responds, heading back towards the master bedroom on the first floor. You follow up the stairs, unable to get the mysterious dark haired boy out of your mind.
Shortly after “The Sherrinford Incident” life has gone back to normal in Baker Street. With one exception: Sherlock is avoiding Molly Hooper much to John’s frustration, Mrs Hudson’s despair and Mycroft’s amusement. Will the stubborn Detective get his head out of his arse and finally acknowledge a truth he’s been hiding far too long?
The Triumphant Return of the Avonlea Town Christmas Pageant
Anne is thrown into the depths of despair when Mr. Phillips announces that the Christmas Pageant has been cancelled for good. With hard work, determination, and a little bit (or rather, a huge heap) of enthusiasm, Anne and her friends pull together a show to celebrate the holiday with the rest of Avonlea - just in time for someone who had been missing (and missed) to return home.
Scorpius hanging out at Albus's house and Ginny is being all motherly makes Scorp emotional :(
Sorry it took me so long, but I hope you enjoy!
It takes its toll on him in random moments. Sometimes Scorp will be fine, and then the death of his mother will come and hit him in the face like a bludger. Most of the time, it is at night when he goes home to visit his father, and Scorp resigned himself to the fact that he’d never have a mother again.
He sits in the Potter kitchen, poking at a plate of eggs, when he feels the telltale signs of an impending attack. Tears form in his eyes without his consent, and he takes a shaky breath, hoping that he can get it over with before anyone notices.
“Scorpius?” a voice asks suddenly. “Are you all right, darling?”
Mrs. Potter’s tone is soft, quiet, but not pitying, which Scorp is grateful for. If he has inherited anything from his father, it’s his pride.
Initially, he intends to nod his head, that yes, of course, he is all right, but his mind is out of his control and he finds himself shaking his head with a despairing, “No, Mrs. Potter, I’m not. I’m a boy without a mum.”
She says nothing after that, only comes up behind him and rubs his back gently before nudging at his shoulder to get off the stool he sits on. Forgetting his eggs, he follows her silent motions dutifully, and Mrs. Potter envelopes him in a gentle but fierce hug.
It lasts a long time, but Scorp doesn’t mind. He buries his face into her soft stomach and breathes the comforting smell of a mother who cares, a scent he’s not smelled for ages.
“Scorpius Malfoy,” Ginny Potter says after a while, kissing the flurry of platinum white hair atop the boy’s head, “you will always find a mother here.”
(And I can’t NOT mention Malcolm, who is not lacking in either rage or despair – or suffering* – but Peter’s explosive physical performance of him, is, well, kind of a whole other Bafta winning thing.)
*that’s he’s mostly brought on himself, don’t get me wrong