FINE LINE, sirius black

By aurorasandsadprosee

356K 12.8K 5.8K

we'll be fine we'll be alright sirius black x fem!oc marauder's era cover: "the lovers" from the rider-waite... More

𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞
𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞
𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐱
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭
𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐧
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧
𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐨
𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐱
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭
𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐨
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐱
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞
↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐨
𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

↳ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

5.8K 237 8
By aurorasandsadprosee



Late January 1978

Potter Manor


               It was a rare moment of peace.

Fleamont and Euphemia had gone to sleep early and the healer had said that Thea could take a break. 

She had a run a bath for herself an hour ago, but she couldn't bring herself to leave. 

Her father had tinkered with the faucets in the house, making the bath water always warm.

She moved her hand back and forth in the water, listening to the sound it made as her hands picked up some drops, causing them to fall the short distance back into the bath.

She felt her hands and feet becoming pruney from the water. The wrinkles of skin that she could flatten with a press and enhance with the squeeze. 

She smelled the lavender bath salts that she had put in as they rose with the steam. 

She heard her voice in her head as she hummed the tune of Swan Song by Franz Schubert, her voice slightly distorted as the voice in our head sounds oh so different from the one we speak with. 

She felt the water caress her naked body, making it feel like silk and weightless. If she relaxed her muscles, she was sure she'd float to the top.

But at the same time, she felt it pressing on her chest, making it slightly hard to breath. 

She could only hear her humming and the swishing water.

The rest was silence. 

She wasn't used to the silence that enveloped the Potter Manor. 

It took away a bit of the soul, because a big part of what made the Manor, the Manor, is that there was always something going on.

Whether it be James practicing quidditch or Euphemia cooking or Fleamont explaining the types of the flowers that he kept in his botanical garden. 

There was always the breath of life.

Now, slowly, but surely, Thea felt air leaving the house. 

She felt it gasping, fading, succumbing to the inevitable end of what once was. 




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