33 Chapter 32: Are you Sirius?

'The Black ancestral home is such a peaceful place.' Magnus sighed, finding comfort in his hot chocolate after yet another failed bestial transformation.

"Sirius Orion Black! " shouted an infuriated Andromeda, her nose biologically, artificially and very much magically red. "You better bring your sorry mutt arse here on the double!"

'Said absolutely no one, ever' The young man closed his eyes in a mix of amusement, exasperation and intrigue.

"Or what?" barked the self-proclaimed proud owner of said 'sorry mutt arse'.

Magnus too curious for his own good spared him a look and once more regretted it deeply, it was the Boku no Pico incident all over again, though fortunately much less dramatic.

His Occlumency shields were yet again made critical, when he saw the thirteen meters tall cardboard castle whose absurd height and scientifically improbable structural integrity were the result of many a spell only an immature, bored albeit very gifted man-child could come up with.

Or a Marauder, as Sirius would say.

"I'll make that's what!" The ordinarily calm and gentle woman brandished her wand, ready to throw some of her more imaginative hexes at that unruly cousin of hers.

"Hohoho." Sirius appeared from the top of the carton citadel, clad in a conjured king's attire. All in red and gold, for foolishness like his were too glorious for their credited to be hoarded. Generous as he was, the fully unprepared father honoured his noble house of Gryffindor, Godric would be so proud. "You and what army?"

"What in oblivion are you doing?" Mocked his son "Looking to seduce Santa Claus's fangirls? "

"You wish! Let me tell you son, It's Santa Claus who dresses like me to pick up birds!" The older white Black man educated his uncultured progenitor, he would've taught him better but sadly his Azkabanesque situation got in the way. That and his ignorance of the hardly-anymore child's birth. "Wouldn't touch a fangirl though, those chicks are crazy."

"Preach, father."Magnus could only agree, so do Bob, Chris, Tobi, Fruit, Uncle Sheo, Johnny, Corn and just about any more or less decent existence with the exception of Gilderoy Lockhart.

But the fledgling mind-flayer enthusiast doesn't matter, rumours say that he got in a torrid relationship with a scatophile vampire barman.

His consent is just about as pronounced as his naturally curly blond hairs, his many heroic exploits, his skills in Defence against the Dark Arts, his ability to orgasm without fantasising about himself or his family's pride in him; inexistent.

At least Molly Weasley still likes him, Ron must envy him greatly.

"Stop ignoring me!" A fully red faced Andromeda objected, punctuating her words with a rather strong bludgeoning charm aimed at Fort Noel's mighty gates; which resisted perfectly.

"Ha!" Barked the acting Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black "You suck!"

What ensued was a long, visually impressing, linguistically primitive, magically powerful and all around absurd battle of epic proportions.

"I told you not to show him those muggle 'cartoons'." Were the first words of the ever stern Professor McGonagall, as avoided the onslaught of charms and hexes on her way out of the Fireplace.

"Morning Professor!" Shouted Sirius in the middle of two laughing charms, before abruptly ducking behind his walls when Andromeda's tickling curse threatened to end his reign.

"Good morning Sirius." She chose not comment on the situation, now that her hopes of his maturation were as gone as the joys, shames and worries that flooded her mind all thorough his trial and liberation.

"It was you who told us to spend time 'bonding'." Magnus reminded her "And you said drinking, jousting and hunting death eaters were a no go. Naturally, i thought watching some muggle shows would be a good and harmless way to have fun."

As soon as he finished his words, a blueish spell hit Andromeda right in the face. Her cousin had always been the superior duelist, after all. And an outstanding jokester, though she might steal his place with her new looks.

"I'll admit that the watching the Simpsons was a bad idea." Said Magnus, watching his aunt brimming with anger. Her face pale like snow mixed with radioactive wastes, her hair a sickly blue and styled in one of the most embarrassing shapes known to man. With her already red and round nose, courtesy of Sirius's initial prank, she looked....

"Hey! Hey! hahaha" Blurted the silliest dog capable of speech since Scooby-doo's retcon."You're rocking the Krusty look, cousin."

"Are you serious?" She asked, her one deathly cold. Only realising her mistake when she saw her cousin's fearful yet excited face.

"You're god damn right."

Needless to say, Sirius regretted that one prank for a long time. Magnus somehow managed to get some work done. Minerva yet again agreed to dine with them, on the condition that Andromeda would cook.

Which ended rallying the whole Black clan for a merry dinner, celebrating the value of forgiveness, kinship and not murdering authors after prolonged absences.

"Andy, my lovely cousin. I've been a good boy, haven't I?." Wailed Sirius "Could perhaps think about eventually you undoing this spell, pretty please?"

"Dad" called Magnus, who was reviewing yet another tome on Animagi.

"Yes, son." the hurt dog answered.

"She left two hours ago." he flipped a page.

"..."

"Oh"

"Oh, indeed."

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Hey guys! It's me, Sheo Who Goes Missing!

It's been quite some time, since i've disappeared from the face of Nirn in order to fight the accursed Grey march..*cough* exams*cough*. I ended up leaving and not coming back, disappointing many of you and most of all disappointing myself as a Creator of Crazy Cheesy Content.

You would be right to blame me, insult me and curse me. You can do it, but be wary, i WILL cry if you do it. In the Daedric way, which involve turning people into fish sticks and then CHIMing all over you poor souls before going full Amaranth and creating a new dream.

Now madness aside, I am here, aren't I? (or Am I?) So will i continue Eagle Soars? My best work until now, something i love deeply and made me grew from a horribly shitty writer into a reasonably shitty writer.

Long Answer: Yes.

Short answer: It's complicated, reading it again has shown me all my mistakes. All the flaws in my work, all the plot holes, the poorly written characters and pathetic dialogues, the weakness of my storytelling and subpar planning which certainly would , had i continued on that path, lead me into a trap less apparent than freaking Astolofo.

Magnus has a silly name, no personality and is overall an arsehole with illusions of grandeur. Fleur appeared twice and she's more developed than him! Making him a Black was the result of careful planning, how it managed to turn into such a bad idea i will never know.

His interactions with Sirius, which i obviously didn't post, were either more awkward than Hiccup or more messed up than Boku fucking Pico. Hell, Dumbledore got a boner!

And he's fucking dead!

Magnus was either a too good, not good enough or good at so many things that he ended up sucking big times at every one of them. The characters were all evil, because Magnus and I are both paranoid messes with misanthropic streak so big we could befriend Kurama!

And he's fucking dead!

What you didn't notice? He hate people so much that he only gets along with a cat lady, his reasonably crazy aunt and could only fall in love with a non-human Veela.

That dude had issues.

But that's alright, issues are alright. Bad magic could be fixed. Bad dialogue could be practised. Sexual tension relieved. Dumbledore castrated. Boruto is not canon.

What is very much not alright, however, and could never be fixed is the reason for my decision.

Eagle Soars is boring.

It's a hassle to read, even if it's better than the murder soup we serve here at Webnovel, it is not something worth showing to you guys. I cannot, and will not accept such a lacklustre performance.

You mortals don't deserve to waste your precious, limited time on a work of subpar quality. You deserve to waste it on a work of moderate quality!

It will be hard, and will demand much practise. But I am confident in my ability to produce quality content for you, my precious Nordic meatballs.

This story needs a rewrite, and a rewrite it shall have, but let us enjoy the moment before any great change is made.

Now the question is; Are YOU crazy enough to follow me on this doom-driven adventure prisoner? Knowing how unreliable of a narrator I am?

You are? Than let us go, Haskill! bring me my ink finger!

Let us start the Phase 1 of the Cheese Father Initiative!