`` NAME: Sirius Orion Black
`` NICKNAMES: Padfoot, Snuffles
`` SEX: Male
`` BIRTHDATE: October 22, 1959
`` BLOOD: Pureblood
`` HOUSE: Gryffindor
`` AFFILIATION/OCCUPATION: First and foremost: the Marauders. Soon to be: the Order of the Phoenix.
`` WAND: 12.5”, Oak, Dragon’s heartstring. Rigid, but sturdy.
`` SEXUALITY: Girls, girls, girls.
But after enough firewhiskey…
`` HAIR: Black. Sirius’s hair is something worthy of note. It achieves a perfect, careless elegance that implies beauty without effort. Though he typically wears it on the longer side, its length has been attributed to his moods; at better times, Sirius sports shorter, neater styles, while the length increases proportionately with his stress levels. Currently, those dashing locks are just sufficiently overgrown to drape over his eyes, pool over his collar, and ruffle lightly in the breeze.
`` EYES: Grey and, in the words of JK Rowling “fathomless.” Sounds lovely, eh?
`` FACE: However much he has tried to deny his origins, Sirius has inherited many Black family traits—among them, their aristocratic bearing. His features are neither too harsh nor too soft, evocative of an old line of pampered nobility. With his handsomeness comes the frequent expression of haughty superiority. Despite a prankster’s inner nature, he looks as if everything should be beneath him, as if he has already deigned everything and everyone unworthy of his time. The effect, however, is betimes ruined by his boyish smile—shattering the illusion of severity.
`` BODY TYPE: His body is built of lean, braided muscle, bound about a tall frame. At just above six feet, Sirius is the tallest of the quartet. But, unlike James, he lacks the streamlined, flyer’s body. He has always been only decent on a broom—explaining, perhaps, the aerial enhancements on his muggle motorbike. Instead, Sirius’s musculature is slightly bulkier, thicker and with more gravity, but not yet awkward or oversized.
`` SKIN TONE: Tan. Through his rejection and eventual abandonment of his childhood home, Sirius has spent a great deal of time outdoors. As such, he boasts an even, sunkissed tan that he will later lose in Azkaban—but that is momentarily irrelevant. Currently, he enjoys a smooth, bronze coloration that makes it seem as if he has just stepped off the beach.
`` DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Though he has lately taken an interest in tattoos and scribbled endless designs in the margins of his textbook, Sirius has yet to actually acquire one. Like the other Marauders, he bears the odd evidence of their monthly activities—a small, raised scar on his back. A pale line etched into his side. A scab still peeling on his right leg.
- His friends
- His girlfriends
- Muggle technology (though not to the extent of Arthur Weasley)
- The outdoors
- Good jokes
- Firewhiskey and Burning Brandy
- DADA and transfiguration
- The Sex Pistols, Cauldron, and The Velvet Underground
- James’s penchant for showing off (sometimes)
- Wormtail’s obsessive fawning when James shows off
`` AMORTENTIA: He smells a fragrant blend of motor oil and fresh air—a scent that feels instantly like freedom.
`` HOBBIES: Outside of school, Sirius can be found often tinkering with his bike or a discarded engine, or other muggle mechanics. At Hogwarts, he is deprived of his motorcycle, though he does keep track of muggle sports (football, boxing) and muggle politics through a weekly subscription to The Guardian. Sirius is frequently the mastermind behind the quartet’s antics within the castle, but what time he doesn’t spend procrastinating on his homework, plotting pranks, and carousing with his friends, he spends toying with his guitar or roaming the school grounds.
`` HABITS: A restless person at heart, Sirius tends to fiddle with things when sitting or standing idle. He wads up scraps of parchment or worries quills until they begin to lose feathers. It’s an unfortunate habit that leaves him frequently missing quills or important notes from professors. After his discovery of punk rock, Sirius has also developed a habit of drumming his fingers to the beat of unheard melodies, tapping against his desk during classes when he has stopped paying attention.
`` SECRETS: Sirius isn’t a man of many secrets; generally, he prefers to be an open book. But, like anyone, he has a few thoughts that he would rather not have exposed. For as much as he teases Remus for his studiousness, Sirius quietly admires Moony for his ability to abstain from their more raucous activities—for not needing the attention that Sirius and James so readily attract. And, though Sirius truly does revile his brother for his cowardice and submission to the family dogma, he worries that Regulus may throw his lot in with the death eaters, and find himself in over his head. And finally, Sirius and James have been so inseparable at Hogwarts that individuals often comment on how they should be brothers—a fact that Sirius has often quietly wished was true.
`` BOGGART: Sirius’s boggart takes the shape of death eaters—a small cluster hooded and cloaked. As they raise their wands, they unmask, and he realizes that they are his closest friends. Predictably, though, this makes the boggart easy to defeat. The moment Sirius casts the “rididikulus spell,” death-eater Remus starts undergoing his lupine transformation and bursts awkwardly from the robes, Peter stumbles into James and sends the three of them tumbling in a clumsy mass of limbs, fur, and torn robes.
`` DEMENTOR: Somewhere within the chilling, pervasive feel of misery, Sirius experiences flashbacks to a family outing at age five. From a child perspective, he sees his father, wand outstretched, dangling a muggle upside down in the air. He hears his mother’s jarring, shrieking voice tearing through the darkness, edging him on. Dark gashes appear across the muggle’s face, pooling blood into his eyes. That the blood flows up his face rather than down seems strangely eerie, as if punctuating the twisted nature of this moment. The poor suspended man struggles to scream, but has been magically silenced, mouth agape, face purpled and swollen, veins bulging at his neck. It is the memory that Sirius marks forever as the moment he realized his family’s despicable nature—that their venomous blood flowed through his veins, and worse, that they expected him to carry on their legacy.
`` PATRONUS: A large, bear-like dog. He summons it through any recollection of their full moon activities, channeling the feel of wild adrenaline and camaraderie. Infallibly, he recalls wrestling with a werewolf and rampaging through the decrepit halls of the shrieking shack.
`` PERSONALITY: Many years from now, Dumbledore will tell Harry, “Sirius was a brave, clever, and energetic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger.” Though Dumbledore had the tact to only highlight Sirius’s better characteristics, his legendary insight prevails. Sirius values loyalty and courage above all else—though the latter prejudice causes him to spurn those he determines cowardly.
Sirius owes much of his success in school to his inherent intelligence, as diligence has never been among his better traits. Though Sirius is perfectly capable of applying himself to his pursuits (becoming an animagi for instance), he bores easily and dismisses anything that does not hold his interest. A constant seeker of adventure, he has a tendency to plunge headfirst into mischief, but has the good fortune of friends willing to bail him back out.
Emotionally, Sirius is a man who operates in extremes. He loves wholly and unreservedly and with an endless fervor. That intensity, however, also applies to the way in which he hates. His festering dislike of his family and all pure-blood supremacists has only grown over time and his enmity never seems to dwindle.
`` BIRTHPLACE: London, England
`` IMMEDIATE FAMILY: Orion Black (Father), Wallburga Black (Mother), Regulus Arcturus Black (Brother)
`` OTHER IMPORTANT FAMILY MEMBERS: Andromeda, Bellatrix, and Narcissa Black (Cousins), Phineas Nigellus Black (Grandfather), Arthur Weasley (Second cousin, once removed), and Alphard Black (Generous Uncle)
`` HISTORY: The white sheep of the Black family, Sirius has always stood out. In a clan of staunchly supremacist pure-bloods, Sirius spent his youth provoking and enduring their wrath. He put permanent sticking charms on Gryffindor banners and glossy magazine prints of motorcycles and muggle bikini models, plastering them about his room. In fact, he was the first member of his family to be sorted into Gryffindor, widening the divide between Sirius and generations of Slytherins.
At school, he befriended James Potter, Remus Lupin, and their tagalong Peter Pettigrew fairly quickly, and made fast enemies with Severus Snape. In their fifth year, Sirius, James, and Peter finally succeeded in becoming unregistered animagi in order to accompany Remus during his monthly transformations. Also that year, they created the Marauder’s Map—a brilliant tool in their magical mischief.
Outside of school, Sirius’s relations with his family continued to fray. He began spending increasing amounts of time away from 12 Grimmauld Place, discovering the joy of muggle music. Following the rise of punk rock, Sirius attended numerous concerts near the London area, he frequented bars and cafes, and let his bike take him away for days at a time. There is one photo, captured by a muggle photographer, of Sirius sitting on a curb in Northern Ireland, a frosted mug of Guinness in his hand, watching a women’s march for peace. Finally, at the age of sixteen, Sirius finally abandoned his childhood home, whereupon his mother scorched him off the family tree. At the time (most likely the summer before this roleplay), he was welcomed into the Potter household and experienced a heartening redefinition of the word “family.”
`` ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
A blue stream of light jetted past Sirius’s head and he ducked, watching the hex burn through the wallpaper as he dragged his trunk down the narrow stairwell. Ignoring the murmurings of “blood-traitor” and “worthless” that issued from the portraits, he descended stair after stair, letting the trunk clatter against the steps, gouging deep grooves into the ancient, inlaid wood.
“You! Are no longer my son! I don’t have a son!” His mother’s voice bellowed from above, rattling against the walls. He could hear her heavy footfalls creak against the floorboards and she continued, fury smearing her words together until they were hardly comprehensible. Between the low growls he heard “… don’t know how I ever gave birth to… ungrateful little… raised him like…”
Before he reached the door, Sirius heard “Incendio!” and knew that he was being purged from the family tree. In his mind, he could see the burst of flames issue from her wand like an exhaled breath, flaring briefly atop his portrait before it consumed his image and name. Burning people from the family tree was more spiteful than simply wiping them away. Instead of pretending as if they didn’t exist, instead of simply erasing, it left an angry smear of black soot and charred wood—like a rotting memory.
“You little—” Just as Sirius reached the door, his mother rounded the corner, bursting forth with her wand outstretched. A nasty curse skimmed by his head, singeing his hair as it passed. The stray attack hit the door behind him, cleaving a gap in oak slab, showering the room with splinters. In a flash, Sirius drew his wand, gripped white-knuckled in his hand.
“You pathetic little ingrate. Do you think you have the balls for that? To curse your own mother? Well go on then you little blood-traitor,” She sneered at him, eyes narrowed, holding her wand at the defensive.
“As of today,” Sirius muttered, “You are not my mother…” With his wand still pointed at her chest, he yanked the door open behind him and kicked his trunk out, hearing it clatter onto the cement step. Ducking out, he heard her shriek You’re damn right I’m not, as he shoved the door back into place.
Hoisting his trunk up with both hands, Sirius heaved it to his bike, which stood readily propped onto its kickstand. He bound the trunk to the back with coarse lengths of rope and then mounted the seat. As he started the ignition, Sirius managed a faint smile, feeling the engine rumble to life beneath him, and staring at the full fuel gauge as if it were a promise of endless potential.
From within 12 Grimmauld Place, he could hear the sound of glass shattering and wood splitting. His mother was now, no doubt, venting her anger out on Kreacher or Regulus, if the coward had gathered enough courage to venture out of his room. With a rueful, final glance at his childhood home, Sirius shook his head and turned towards the main road.