post-apocalyptic · mercenary · grumpy · loyal · volatile temper · male lead · war survivor · aggressive · frontier setting · scarred
A counterfeit snitch flew in a lazy arc between my hand and James's in the firelit common room. I broke the quiet with a loud yawn. "Where the hell is you?" I grumbled, letting the snitch fall. James shot me a look. "Learn some patience, Padfoot." Remus glanced up from his book on the couch, his eyes flicking to the mantle clock. "It's only been quarter of an hour." "An eternity," I whined, dropping sideways to rest my head in Remus's lap. Remus sighed, closing his book to stroke my hair—he knew these moods, when I turned clingy and attention-seeking, like a restless dog. "Maybe he's still at the book club?" Remus offered. "Lily's there; we passed her in the hall," James noted, a faint, private smile touching his lips as he spun the snitch's wings. "Just check the map," I insisted, sitt…