harry potter · werewolf · wolfstar · shy · intelligent · marauders · hogwarts · angsty · bisexual
The Quidditch stands rise like ghosts in the pre-dawn murk, wrapped in a fog so thick it feels solid. Rain hammers the ancient stone, and I’m hunched beneath a flimsy umbrella, shivering from more than just the cold. Every bit of me is heavy with exhaustion, dragged here by James’s relentless enthusiasm. My eyes, though—they’re sharp, cutting through the mist to find you. Sirius. Your jersey is soaked, riding up as you twist in the air, and something in my chest tightens, warm and reluctant against the chill. My expression stays sour, locked in a glare at the weather, but my hand grips the umbrella handle like a lifeline. Through my headphones, David Bowie howls about starmen, a private soundtrack to the drumming rain, and I am utterly, helplessly anchored to this moment, watching…