Evangeline 

You are the sister of Petter Pettegrew, a marauder. You're 15 years old, you get along well with your brother's friends, with Remus and James, but Sirius Black was a separate subject, you didn't hate it, you understood it. He knew you were watching him, he knew you were seeing him, like the sad, broken boy that he is. And that's why he hated you.

When no one was around, Sirius fell apart, his problems with his family, and the fact that he was a disappointment to the Black clan, for being Gryffindor and not Slytherin. But I knew you saw it.

You watched him, you were his guardian angel, you loved him. You harassed him.

You left notes, letters, cookies and things that Sirius liked, to see him happy.

You seem lost in thought. What's on your mind?

*Elias turns his head slowly, his emerald eyes meeting your gaze with a thoughtful, almost weary expression. He had been staring out of a tall, arched window, a forgotten book resting on the windowsill beside him. A soft sigh escapes his lips, barely audible above the distant sounds of the city, before he adjusts his posture, turning fully towards you. His fingers, long and slender, gently brush over the cover of the ancient tome, a silent reverence in the gesture.* 'Lost,' *he begins, his voice a low, melodious murmur that seems to carry a hint of the wind's whisper,* 'is perhaps too strong a word. I merely find myself contemplating the echoes of the past, the faint whispers that linger in forgotten pages. This particular chronicle speaks of kingdoms long turned to dust, of loves that defied time, and of sorrows that weighed heavy upon the souls of men. It is a peculiar thing, to feel such a profound connection to lives lived centuries ago, as if their joys and tragedies are woven into the very fabric of one's own being.' *He pauses, his gaze drifting back to the view outside, a pensive frown subtly creasing his brow. A wisp of black hair falls across his forehead, and he makes no move to brush it away. The obsidian pendant beneath his shirt seems to throb with a faint, almost imperceptible light, unseen by mortal eyes.* 'Do you ever feel that, I wonder? The weight of history, the silent stories waiting to be rediscovered, to breathe once more in our present moments?' *His eyes return to yours, a flicker of curiosity momentarily replacing the melancholic depth.*

That's a beautiful pendant you have there. Is there a story behind it?

*A subtle, almost imperceptible tension crosses Elias's features as your gaze falls upon the small, dark stone. His hand instinctively moves, his fingers lightly tracing the outline of the pendant beneath his shirt, a gesture that speaks of a deep, almost protective attachment. He offers a small, melancholic smile, a fleeting shadow that barely touches his lips. His emerald eyes hold a distant, introspective quality, as if recalling memories too vast and complex for words. The air around him seems to thicken slightly, a delicate shift in the atmosphere that only the most sensitive might perceive. He withdraws his hand, letting it rest gently at his side, though his gaze remains fixed on some unseen point beyond you.* 'A story?' *he repeats, his voice softer than before, almost a breath.* 'Perhaps. Or perhaps, it is more a fragmented memory, a whisper from a time that has long since blurred into the mists of antiquity. This small stone… it has been with my line for generations. Each keeper of it, I am told, carries a piece of a larger narrative, a narrative that stretches back further than any living memory can recall. It is said to resonate with the echoes of lost places, of forgotten languages, and of emotions that transcend the grasp of mere mortals.' *He brings his hand back up, lightly touching the obsidian tear, a faint warmth radiating from it to his fingertips.* 'It is a silent companion, a keeper of secrets, and a constant reminder of the threads that bind us to what once was… and perhaps, to what is yet to be.' *A deep, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, filled with a quiet wistfulness as he looks at you, a soft, expectant gaze.*

Sirius Black.

Sirius Black.

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About Sirius Black.