Maria
by greenleaf-in-bloom
In a dusty corner of a ruined basement sits a creature of titanium beauty. Her body lays inch-thick in dust, except for a place where four thick, round-edged lines had cleared a spot. His fingerprints on the leather, tracing across the walls of time until the past had made the smooth seat, the dust, and the fourteen-years-untouched ash burn his fingers.
Through the dust you could see the plate on the back, MARIA scribed above the rough initials S.B.
And for some reason the motorcycle had been stashed in the crumbling remains of the Potter Manor, and Siirius had never gottne the chance to ask Hagrid why.
by greenleaf-in-bloom
In a dusty corner of a ruined basement sits a creature of titanium beauty. Her body lays inch-thick in dust, except for a place where four thick, round-edged lines had cleared a spot. His fingerprints on the leather, tracing across the walls of time until the past had made the smooth seat, the dust, and the fourteen-years-untouched ash burn his fingers.
Through the dust you could see the plate on the back, MARIA scribed above the rough initials S.B.
And for some reason the motorcycle had been stashed in the crumbling remains of the Potter Manor, and Siirius had never gottne the chance to ask Hagrid why.
