MOCKINGJAY REFERENCE - Tumblr Posts

The sky above the cemetery was heavy, like a low blanket of gray clouds, soaked with eternal cold. There was almost no wind, only a faint breeze touching the branches of the old trees. Between the moss-covered graves there were narrow paths through the wet grass and leaves. Time seemed to have stopped here: there was silence everywhere, broken only by the rustling of leaves underfoot and the occasional cawing of crows perched on the stone angels who had long since stopped guarding their people. The tombstones stretched away, stretching along the low fence, almost blending in with the grayness of the surrounding world.

"Regulus Black, heir of the great and ancient house of Black."

The stone was smooth, as if polished by the wind and rain itself.

No date, no epitaph. Just a name, like a label on something that no longer mattered to the world. The stove seemed too simple for a name that carried the weight of an ancient lineage, a name that was meant to be remembered through the ages. And yet here it was - lonely, silent, like Regulus himself, gone into oblivion before he could leave a trace.

Only the faint floral scent of flowers, still fresh, broke the sense of abandonment, as a reminder that someone still remembered, still came to visit

Barty, who visited this cemetery more often than his own home, bent down slightly to stroke the headstone

Barty's touch was gentle, as if in that silent moment between the dead and the living he felt Regulus' presence more vividly than ever. He knelt before the grave, his knees sinking into the raw ground, but he didn't care. The cold seeped through his clothes, but it made him feel even closer to Regulus.

"You killed me, Regulus."

Barty whispered, his voice barely audible over the stillness.

"You killed me and now I'm dead. I wish you'd let me lie with you, but you're not there, are you? You're not there. Tell me what I should do, my love. Tell me how I'm supposed to wake up knowing you're so far away."

"I followed you everywhere, you know? I'd do anything for you. And I did, didn't I? Why you disappeared so soon, why you didn't let me come with you."

"I can't let you go," Barty whispered, his voice breaking. "I've tried, but I can't. I lost everything that mattered because of you, and I'd lose it all again if it meant I could have you back. If only for a moment."

Tears blurred his vision, but he brushed them away.

Barty lifted his head from the headstone, wiping the wetness from his eyes with the back of his hand. He stared at the grave for a long time, lost in thought, until something caught his eye-a movement just to the side, where the headstones cast long, dark shadows in the gray light.

There, ridiculously close to Regulus's grave, laid a black, ugly dog. How had he not noticed it at the first glance? His fur was piled up, slick with rain and mud, and he blended into the darkness of the graveyard as if he belonged there. The dog was very still, its body pressed protectively against the stone, as if guarding the place where Regulus lay.

It looked at Barty with its gray eyes.

Gray, gray, gray, gray, Regulus had gray eyes

"'Go away, mutt" He muttered. " Go on, get out of here."

The dog didn't even move, but continued to stare at Barty, burning a hole in him with his sharp gaze.

Barty's heart raced at the sight of the dog's eyes, piercing, almost humane gray eyes that sent a chill down his spine. He took a step back, his breath catching in his throat.

"I said get out of here!" Barty's voice was louder now, filled with frustration.

The dog shifted slightly but made no move to leave.

"Get away from him!" he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. "If you're so damn hungry go find another grave, there's no one here, you hear me. It's fucking empty. This grave is empty. Get the fuck outta here. You ain't even gonna find no bones to chew on, you little shit, you hear me? Fuck you, go lie on another grave, there are plenty of them."

Low growl cut through Barty's rage like a knife, piercing him to the core. The sound was deep and harsh and guttural, with an almost primal hostility. The dog's eyes, unblinking and intense, seemed to narrow as it met Barty's fury face to face.

Barty's hands clenched into fists, knuckles white.

The dog bared his teeth, the growl turned to an even louder angry bark , and Barty stepped back involuntarily. A wave of frustration and helplessness swept over him, an overpowering feeling that even in this place he could not find peace.

With a shuddering breath, Barty turned away, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his emotions. “Fine,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, hoarse and broken. “Stay here if you want".

He took one last look at the dog, who had settled back to the ground, his gaze still fixed on him, but no longer so defiantly. Barty walked slowly away.

The dog stayed perfectly still for a long moment, its body pressed close to the headstone as though it sought some warmth from the cold stone.

The scent of roses, carried by a faint breeze, mingled with the earthy odor of damp cemetery ground. His ears twitched at the sound of distant footsteps, but he remained still, his attention fixed on the grave.

"Sirius, please, let's go home."

A voice called out to him from behind.