3m1ly3014
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He turns the paper over. From her. Her scrawling handwriting on the flipped side of the paper. For Sirius Black, it says. He unfolds it. A poem. A whole page torn from a book by the looks of it. There are no other words. Just the printed poem.
Because I could not stop for Death - He kindly stopped for me -
His eyes scan the poem three times, maybe four. He doesn’t really know what half of it means, they’re just words to him. But she thought of it for him, the words meant something to her. Perhaps it’s better if they remain a mystery. He refolds the paper, so that the dedication is upright and facing him. Then, he tucks it into his wallet. For me, he thinks.
~~~
In which Violet Evans grows up with muddy knees and hair slick with sweat. She runs and never walks. Magic crackles out of her like a live wire. Haunted by ghosts, she is a sister, a lover, a fighter. A youngest Evans sister perspective on the Marauders Era.
Bookmarked by 3m1ly3014
13 Jun 2026