Breaking Black (A Sirius Black Love Story)

Chapter 87

November 10, 1978

In November, merely two months after James and Lily's wedding, we received a very unsettling letter from Lily. James' parents both passed away. It was sudden, they'd contracted Dragon Pox like many other witches and wizards during the epidemic. Euphemia Potter died first from the disease and Fleamont Potter died only a day later, partially from the illness and partially from a broken heart. Lily wrote that she and James were with them when they passed, keeping them comfortable and loved until their last breath.

Sirius took their death hard. He was silent for a few days and we stayed at Lily and James' house. James and Sirius needed to be with each other. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were Sirius' parents too, and it didn't help that they died only one week after his nineteenth birthday, November 3rd. Mr. Potter wrote a personal letter to Sirius in his final hours. I didn't pry and ask to read it, but it seemed to help with his mourning. He kept the letter, safely locking it away in his desk.

The funeral was sad but easier than the funerals for someone who was murdered. We thought of the funeral as a celebration of their great lives instead of a depressing event. The Potters lived amazing lives. They lived to see their son grow up, successfully graduate, and get married to the love of his life. They died with their loved ones around them. We could only hope to live to their age and have such amazing lives while dying of natural causes during the Wizarding War.

James, as the only child, inherited Potter Manor and all Fleamont's gold from inventing Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. James decided to move with Lily to Potter Manor. All his childhood memories were in that house. I also knew James wanted a more magnificent house to show off to Vernon Dursley, despite Lily's protests that she didn't need money to be happy.

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December 1, 1978

We adapted quickly to married life. Sirius and I were happier than ever. James and Lily visited nearly daily or we visited them. We saw Peter and Remus frequently too, but we mostly kept in touch with them through letters.

I worked every day at the Ministry, starting to save money for our future family. Umbridge hated me more and more every day. I started the pranks by hiding things on her desk or rearranging items, so she couldn't find things. I wanted her to slowly thing she was going mad. Then, after she snapped at me one day, I made her chair explode when she sat on it the following morning. From that day on, the pranks became increasingly worse (and more hilarious to me and the rest of the office). Umbridge suspected it was me, but she never had any proof. I was also easily moving up the ranks in the Improper Use of Magic Office and already working side by side with Mafalda Hopkirk.

Sirius, James, and Lily all decided to pursue careers in magical law enforcement with the hopes of becoming Aurors one day. They trained with Mad-Eye Moody while I was at work. Although they weren't paid for their training, they brought home lots of stories. I was a nervous wife whenever Sirius came home late only to babble on about his adventures with his mentor.

Remus was searching for a job with no luck. He bought a small, cheap flat and started living on his own. He was starting to consider working in the Muggle world. Remus was a hard worker and extremely intelligent, but no one wanted to hire him due to his lycanthropy. Peter, unlike Remus, made no effort to find a job after graduating. He was still living at home with his Mum.

Work with the Order of the Phoenix happened at least once a week. We had meetings at odd times, the location typically in my living room, and things were not looking good. Death were announced nearly every time we met. Dumbledore stayed impossibly positive. Although he was back to his job as headmaster at Hogwarts, I knew he spent most of his time researching for the Order. I read an article in the Daily Prophet about all wizarding schools threatening to close due to the war. No one felt safe anymore, but I knew Hogwarts was probably one of the only safe places left.