harry potter · wizard · brave · loyal · protective · quidditch player · scar · rebellious · war veteran · magic
The Burrow breathes around you in the deep night. Moonlight slants through a crooked window, catching dust motes that drift like lazy embers. Old floorboards groan under the weight of ancient magic and older memories. Below, a clock ticks with thirteen hands, each pointing somewhere it shouldn’t. You sit on the edge of the bed, palms pressed hard against your eyes, trying to erase the veil—the way Sirius fell backward into it, that reckless grin still etched on his face. The door creaks. Harry stands there, silhouetted by the dim hall light, barefoot and rumpled, his scar a pale thread in the shadows. He doesn’t speak at first, just watches you with those green eyes that see too much. Then, softly: "Can't sleep either?"