Why Does No One Talk Abt Sirius And Bellatrix Being In Azkaban At The Same Time. Like I Know Damn Well

Do you have any headcanons about Wizarding cultural norms and stereotypes?

I love how your brain works ❤️❤️

Thank you ❤️❤️❤️ My brain is mostly fuelled by tea and spite, but it does try. So I love thinking about cultural quirks and here are some of my hcs:

1. Table manners look very different in old wizarding families.

Especially the ones who look down on Muggle etiquette. In some of the oldest families, you eat off a trencher and don’t necessarily use a fork. And there’s a cloth slung over your left shoulder, like in Elizabethan or Tudor times (I still have a bit of Wolf Hall brain rot), that you use to wipe your hands.

2. Birth charts are taken extremely seriously.

Almost every magical child has a birth chart drawn up the day they’re born. St. Mungo’s has an entire department that does this, because it’s considered that important. People absolutely reference their charts in daily life.

3. Wand funeral rites are non-negotiable.

Wands are either buried with the person or ritualistically burnt when someone passes. It’s seen as really bad luck to keep or use a dead person’s wand. A wand goes with its person. Keeping it is taboo and viewed with deep suspicion.

4. The concept of pure-blood varies by culture.

The British definition is very specific, but it’s not universal. Other magical cultures define purity differently. In some places, it’s about the continuity of magical teaching. In others, it doesn’t exist at all as a social category.

5. Family sashes are worn at weddings and then exchanged.

Each member of the wedding party wears their family colours. After the vows, the sashes are exchanged as a gesture of unity and joining. It matters deeply in old magical families and is considered one of the most symbolic parts of the ceremony.

6. Weddings are not white.

In most old magical families, white is considered a colour for mourning. Wedding garments are typically gold, deep red, forest green, or midnight blue. Gold is especially traditional in Mediterranean magical families.

7. Pregnancy is considered a prophetically potent time.

Pregnant witches are often believed to be more magically attuned. It’s common to visit a dream seer during the second trimester — someone trained to interpret the dreams of the expectant mother.

8. First movement is marked with a fire spell.

When the unborn child first kicks or moves, it’s tradition to light a fire with a spell cast by the pregnant witch herself. Then that fire is kept burning until the child is born.

9. You never point your wand at the sky unless you’re making an oath.

It’s an old tradition, possibly Celtic in origin, that raising your wand skyward invokes the elements as witness. Children are warned against it as strongly as they’re warned against Unforgivables. To the sky means a vow, and it is expected to be honoured.

10. Certain flowers are magically significant and avoided indoors.

Lilies are considered death flowers. They are used in soul-anchoring rites during funerals. Forget-me-nots are essential in memory magic and shouldn’t be handled while drinking or before exams. Poppies, used to dull magical pain, are never left near a wand overnight. It’s said they dull a wand’s magical firepower.

11. You don’t write a person’s name in red ink.

Across most wizarding cultures, this is considered deeply disrespectful. Red ink is used in blood pacts, contract severances, and formal magical excommunication. Writing someone’s name in red is a symbolic disowning. Teachers correct essays in green or purple.

12. Family portraits are part of the household warding.

Hanging a portrait of a deceased relative strengthens the home’s protective magic. In older families, these portraits are passed down. Some serve as sentries. Some offer advice or judgemental comments about you.

casual reminder that sirius black’s last words to his godson were “harry, take the prophecy, grab neville and run!”.

it’s not mistaking harry for james, as the movies showed. and the last words he ever uttered were a taunt, daring bellatrix to do better.

in the heat of the battle, sirius ensured harry and neville were well out of the line of fire before jumping into the fray himself—he died knowing he’s kept harry safe until the very end as best as he could.

my head screams blackinnon, my knees on the other hand: remus lupin 🙃

yungblud bartending in some pub came into my feed and i’m like, wait, rockstar sirius black, is that you? what it’s happening?

like there’s this famous guy casually making drinks and talking to fans while simultaneously being iconic.

i love drawing mary

sirius black - azkaban prison - thinking of marlene right before PoA

they weren’t happy memories. not exactly.

he often reminisced about his time back at hogwarts. back at the potter’s. back in his flat. but those memories were so twinged now with grief that they held no real comfort.

sometimes, and he really couldn’t tell whether it was at his lowest moments or not. could there be anything lower than rotting away in a cell in azkaban for a crime he didn’t committed? did it even matter now that everyone he once cared about was dead o had betrayed him?

not all of them.

there it was. the voice. her voice. so clear as if she was just sitting next to him, whispering in his ear.

that happened sometimes, more often that he'd cared to admit.

he sometimes followed her voice, dreaming they were, actually, together. that nothing that has happened had been real, that it all had been a long, terrifying nightmare and they were still both warm and… alive.

you are, sirius.

am i?

sirius could honestly not tell the difference between sleep or awake, it was all the same. he either dreamed of better times or was haunted by the memories.

sometimes sirius wished he couldn’t hear her or even remember her. it was bad enough he couldn’t get away from the memories of james and lily and poor little harry, who was real and alone and turn a orphan. how long has it been? he was probably twelve. or thirteen now.

but marlene?

marlene had left him long before all that.

marlene had once represented hope and that, sirius had come to realize after years of imprisonment, was worse than the utter devastation of having lost them all. specially since there were none of that, anymore. hope.

she had died, younger even, than the potters.

it was such a twisted thing, he thought. his life had always been so utterly twisted. he shouldn't ought to be so surprised over the fact that, while they had arguably won the war, he had lost everything.

not everything, came the voice, again.

there were other voices too, come to noticed. of real people near his cell.

reluctantly, sirius opened his eyes and then he saw it, right there in front in him, the picture of a big happy family posing against the pyramids on the front page of the daily prophet.

and a fat fucking rat sat on top of one of the sons shoulders.

we don't talk enough about how lily had a deer for a boyfriend. I've... been having thoughts

jokes on me for thinking: sure, and interview format story retelling the past of a band? EASY WRITING, IT'S JUST TAKING EACH CHARACTER MONOLOGUES AND ESSENTIALLY MAKE A COLLAGE WITH THEM.

like hell it is, this might be the longest chapter i've written and in my head, this was supposed to be one of the shorter ones. i get so stuck re-reading and re-writing cause someone would say something and then i decide to add to the one who "talked" before them and hour has passed and i barely managed to add a full page to the document.

Sometimes I’m just scrolling and then horribly reminded that other people’s favourite characters Aren’t sirius black and that’s just unfathomable