Harry Potter Folly

_**Folly**_

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The three of them had just been outside, playing in the garden as they so often did. Isla sat on the little marble bench kept beside the roses; her hands were in her lap, her complexion clear and her ever-attentive eyes watching them. She, at nine, was too old for children's games, but she enjoyed the sun and fresh air just as much as her brothers. And so, often accompanied them out to mind them as they tossed their toy ball around and ran about yelling like little savages instead of little gentlemen.

If their mother was not so busy inside their home with Elladora, she would have scolded them all. Isla for not disapproving, Sirius for setting a bad example for Phineas, and Phineas for staining his knees with dirt and grass. But she wasn't, so, instead, Isla smiled kindly at them and watched with unjudging eyes as the boys threw their ball higher, and higher, and higher; until the toy was just brushing the branches of the tree canopies above. After some time, the ball got caught in those same leaves and branches, causing little Phineas to stamp his foot and cry, "My ball!"

A grin on his face, Sirius leaned over and hooked an arm around his brother's neck and drew him close. He said, "Do not worry, Phineas! I will get it down for us!"

"How so, brother?" Isla inquired, her voice now sharp. They did not have a wand and she worried for what her brother might have in mind–his plans were notoriously poor.

He waved a hand as if to lessen the criticalness of Isla's words. "Do not worry, sister! I shall just climb up and shake the branches!" he said.

"Please, Sirius, do not do it!" fretted Isla as she stood up from the bench. "The trees are tall, but thin, and you will fall! Just let me get Mother–"

"No!" the boy snapped. "She will only tell us it serves us right for it to have gotten stuck in the tree and make us come in for tea!"

Isla thinned her lips in displeasure. "What is wrong with that, Sirius? If she does not get it down now, Father will do it when he returns home from work!"

Phineas, six, and just a tad too young to follow such complexities, questioned, "Sirius is not getting my ball?"

"–Yes–"

"–No–"

They gave their answer with such willfulness, both believing they were right. But, after a fierce glaring contest, Sirius ran to the tree, already pulling himself up its slender body.

Rushing forward, Isla gave her brother's dangling foot a tug. "Sirius!" she complained. "Stop this instant!"

But he didn't. Laughing at her, he looked down and yelled, "Make me!"

No matter how she may have wanted to do just that, Isla's age and dress kept her firmly on the ground. "Please, Sirius!" she begged as Sirius leaned forward to get a hold of a branch to pull himself higher. "Come down!" she shouted.

Again, her brother did not listen to her and, instead, called to his younger brother, "Phineas, get beneath the ball, would you? That way when it falls you can catch it!"

"Okay!" he happily agreed, already scampering to the spot, arms stretched up in anticipation and mouth shaped into a happy, a closed-lip smile.

Wobbling a bit, Sirius pushed forward to snag the branch he and his brother's ball rested on. "Just a little–" he muttered to himself as his fingers barely brushed the base of the branch. He looked up and then down, seemingly considering if he should go higher or go down altogether.

Twisting her fingers, Isla pleaded with the boy one last time, "Come down! I will go in and take Mother's wand so we can levitate it down! Please, Sirius, _please_!"

The boy, so very high up, just shook his head and flashed a determined grimace. "No!" he shouted back. "I am here and I am going to do it!" Letting go of the branch with one hand, he propelled himself out, fingers just grazing the underside of the ball when–

"SIRIUS!"

The boy gave a short cry, but he was tumbling too fast, hands waving and eyes bulging. Then, in sudden, quick succession, there were a series of cracks. Now on the grassy ground, lay the crumpled body Sirius; Phineas beside him, eyes large and splattered with his brother's blood.

Rushing forward, Isla touched Sirius. "S-Sirius!" she wailed.

He did not move, his eyes open and gazing skyward.

Taking off her shawl,Isla covered her brother's face with it and began to weep as Phineas stayed standing, motionless and silent.

"G-Go get-t M-M-M-Mother!" hiccuped Isla as she worked at rearranging her younger brother so he did not look so much like a broken plaything.

The little boy did nothing.

"_Phineas!" s_he shrieked at him. When he failed to respond even to that, she lifted her gaze up to see that her brother was unnaturally still. It was as if he was under an immobulus charm.

Getting up, she paid the fact her fingers were now coated in blood little mind as she gave the boy a shake. "Phineas?" she whispered. He moved along with the motion, but nothing else. Biting her lip, Isla took his hand and lead him to the bench she previously occupied and pushed him down.

"Stay there," she ordered before running to their home.

A few minutes later, screeching came from inside and then, their mother was beneath the trees, ripping back the shawl Isla had so sweetly laid over her brother's face. She covered her eyes and began to bawl.

Shortly after, Isla returned and put a hand on Phineas's shoulder. He reached up and touched it as their mother continued to wail over the body of her first-born son and their brother. Nothing would be the same.

It had been folly on Sirius's part to think a tree so slim could support his growing weight and now, he'd paid for it with the most precious commodity of all:

_Life._

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**Because I just learned Sirius I died when he was eight? I considered writing murder, but that seemed too...dramatic. I think simple childhood danger was a better choice. Because even with all that magic, he didn't have the time to stop himself from hitting the ground and dying and neither did his siblings.**

**Thank you guys a ton for reading, please review!**

**EDITED: 2/23/16**


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Harry Potter, Family, Tragedy