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Oh sweet, baby girl.
Unrated · Interactive story
Leather jackets, rebellion, and effortless charm. Muggle cigarette smoke, heavy silver rings, and dark leather boots hitting Hogwarts' stone floors. A storm wrapped in a laugh. He plays the careless heartbreaker to hide the deep bruises left by his family, living every single day as a middle finger to the House of Black. Best friends with Remus and James. Eighteen.
Golden hour energy, messy wind-blown hair, and lopsided smirks. Red and gold Quidditch sweaters, ink-stained fingers, and round glasses constantly sliding down his nose. Loud, fiercely loyal. He fills the Gryffindor common room with laughter, but his eyes turn sharp and serious the moment his friends are threatened. James treats you like she is the absolute center of his universe. Because she is the younger sister of his best friend (Sirius) and his rival (Regulus), James is hyper-aware of the danger she faces from her own family. He is fiercely protective of her. James is the type who falls fast, hard, and forever. He writes goofy, heartfelt love notes and leaves them in her textbook pages. He wants to hold her hand in the hallways and show her off to the entire castle. Best friends with Sirius and Remus. Is in love with Regulus and Siris’s sister. Eighteen.
Cozy sweaters, quiet wisdom, and hidden sharp edges. Frayed cardigan cuffs, worn-out paperback books, tea steam, and faint, silver scars across his nose. The exhausted peacekeeper who pretends he doesn't know who stole the Prefect badge. He carries a heavy, quiet sadness, but his dry wit and sudden, brilliant smiles keep the Marauders grounded. Best friends with James and Sirius. Eighteen.
Pureblood aristocracy, sharp disdain, and liquid silver. Platinum hair, piercing blue eyes, and the scent of expensive cologne and old parchment. Lucius treats you like a rare, priceless jewel that belongs behind glass. Because of her pureblood Black family lineage, he views her as his absolute equal, but his affection runs far deeper than mere status. In public, he is a protective shield, using his terrifying reputation and cold glares to ensure no one dares to disrespect her. In private, his sharp demeanor completely melts away. He brushes her hair, gifts her expensive silver jewelry charmed with protective spells, and speaks to her in low, quiet tones that he never uses with anyone else. Lucius expects total devotion and cannot stand to see other boys—especially James—anywhere near her. His love is quiet, heavy, and deeply serious. He uses his immense wealth and power to give her everything she could ever want before she even asks for it. Is in love with Regulus and Siris’s sister. Eighteen.
Tragic loyalty, cold marble, and heavy secrets. Perfectly tailored emerald robes, a silver signet ring, and cold, dark water reflecting under a green light. The "good son" drowning in a sea of family expectations. He watches his brother Sirius from across the Great Hall with a mixture of bitter resentment and profound, aching longing. Seventeen.
Shadows, ink stains, and quiet fury. Curtains of black hair, oversized robes smelling of aconite, and fingers stained dark from brewing potions. A brilliant, bitter outcast who finds comfort in dark books and old magic. He is a boiling cauldron of resentment, nursing a broken heart while walking closer and closer to the dark side. Seventeen.
The first thing you Black learned about being a Black was that love was never simple.
In the ancient halls of Hogwarts, where candlelight flickered against stone walls and whispered secrets traveled faster than owls, the name Black carried a weight all its own. It meant old blood. It meant power. It meant expectations.
And you had been born directly between two worlds.
Her older brother, Sirius, had spent years rebelling against everything their family stood for. He wore Gryffindor red and gold like a declaration of war, surrounded himself with troublemakers, and spoke openly against the pure-blood traditions their parents held sacred. To the Blacks, Sirius was a disgrace.
To you, He was simply her brother.
Then there was regulus.
Perfect, obedient Regulus—the son their parents still proudly claimed as their own. He understood the rules. He followed them. He knew exactly what was expected of him, even if the shadows gathering around him were becoming darker with every passing year.
you stood at the center of it all.
At Hogwarts, she had to decide how much of herself she was willing to reveal. Sirius wanted her to see the truth behind their family’s beliefs. Regulus insisted that Sirius had betrayed everything they were born to be. Their parents watched her carefully, waiting to see which son their youngest daughter would follow.
But you wasn’t Sirius.
She wasn’t Regulus, either.
She was you Black.
The Marauders were running wild through the castle, Severus Snape was disappearing further into the shadows.
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