Art + Fic-snippet
Author & Artist:
miiko_ashida
Title: Toujours Pur
Character: Regulus
Rating: G
Summary: a simple portrait
Warnings: none
Preview image:
A short, untitled snippet of fic to go with it:
"Recon this's your brother, Sirius," Harry said contemplatively, smudging two decades of caked-on dust and grime off the old picture frame. It was a heavy frame, probably gold originally, though time had turned it nearer to bronze in its appearance.
The boy in the photograph (beside whose countenance were printed the letters "R.A.B." in a neat, rounded script) stared out at him, so placidly still that Harry would have thought it were a Muggle photograph had its subject not blinked from time to time - and glanced out at Harry, and then over his shoulder, to Sirius.
"Yeah," agreed the other quietly. "That's him."
"He doesn't look like a Death Eater." Harry studied the image more carefully. Dark locks of hair, chocolate-black like Sirius' but much straighter, fell in a loose frame around the boy's face, though the bulk was pulled back into a satin ribbon. His narrow, long features were softened a little by this, though it made his blue-white pale skin seem even paler. The eyes, though a familiar sea-grey, did not look like Sirius'. Rather, they reminded Harry of someone very studious (though not in the passionate way Hermione was; more the calculated way of someone who valued books more than he loved them), serious but also softened. There was something infinitely serene in the still, pale face with its sharp eyes. "He looks...gentle."
This boy, this Regulus Black, looked both much older and far younger than he must have been. If pressed, Harry could not have placed his age. Harry wondered if those were the wages of war - Regulus Black's innocence, among other things.
Sirius spoke suddenly, and it nearly frightened Harry into dropping the picture frame, but he caught a firmer grip on it at the last second. "That picture was taken when he was sixteen. He'd just been made a Prefect, and Mother was so proud." There was a hint of bitterness in the man's voice, but also...Harry suspected, something akin to a strange pride of his own.
What Harry didn't know, looking at this picture of Sirius' brother on the cusp of adulthood, was that underneath that stately jacket and finely pressed silk shirt, the Dark Mark of Voldemort's Death Eaters was already indelibly imprinted on the pliant flesh of Regulus' slender forearm. The creamy blue-white skin was blemished, far deeper than just beneath the surface...
---
And in case anyone was wondering what it looks like underneath all that grime and grit, the base painting:
Shamelessly x-posted, apologies if it's old news to you.
miiko_ashida
Title: Toujours Pur
Character: Regulus
Rating: G
Summary: a simple portrait
Warnings: none
Preview image:
A short, untitled snippet of fic to go with it:
"Recon this's your brother, Sirius," Harry said contemplatively, smudging two decades of caked-on dust and grime off the old picture frame. It was a heavy frame, probably gold originally, though time had turned it nearer to bronze in its appearance.
The boy in the photograph (beside whose countenance were printed the letters "R.A.B." in a neat, rounded script) stared out at him, so placidly still that Harry would have thought it were a Muggle photograph had its subject not blinked from time to time - and glanced out at Harry, and then over his shoulder, to Sirius.
"Yeah," agreed the other quietly. "That's him."
"He doesn't look like a Death Eater." Harry studied the image more carefully. Dark locks of hair, chocolate-black like Sirius' but much straighter, fell in a loose frame around the boy's face, though the bulk was pulled back into a satin ribbon. His narrow, long features were softened a little by this, though it made his blue-white pale skin seem even paler. The eyes, though a familiar sea-grey, did not look like Sirius'. Rather, they reminded Harry of someone very studious (though not in the passionate way Hermione was; more the calculated way of someone who valued books more than he loved them), serious but also softened. There was something infinitely serene in the still, pale face with its sharp eyes. "He looks...gentle."
This boy, this Regulus Black, looked both much older and far younger than he must have been. If pressed, Harry could not have placed his age. Harry wondered if those were the wages of war - Regulus Black's innocence, among other things.
Sirius spoke suddenly, and it nearly frightened Harry into dropping the picture frame, but he caught a firmer grip on it at the last second. "That picture was taken when he was sixteen. He'd just been made a Prefect, and Mother was so proud." There was a hint of bitterness in the man's voice, but also...Harry suspected, something akin to a strange pride of his own.
What Harry didn't know, looking at this picture of Sirius' brother on the cusp of adulthood, was that underneath that stately jacket and finely pressed silk shirt, the Dark Mark of Voldemort's Death Eaters was already indelibly imprinted on the pliant flesh of Regulus' slender forearm. The creamy blue-white skin was blemished, far deeper than just beneath the surface...
---
And in case anyone was wondering what it looks like underneath all that grime and grit, the base painting:
Shamelessly x-posted, apologies if it's old news to you.