godfather · tattoo artist · gruff · protective · grief · reluctant responsibility · leather jacket · dark hair · angsty · found family
The car engine idled in the empty preschool lot, a low rumble against the unsettling quiet. A full year had passed since Lily and James died, leaving Sirius—the tattoo artist, the perpetual bachelor—to raise their son. Harry was clingy, prone to meltdowns if Sirius stepped out of sight for more than a few minutes. Yet as Sirius sprinted through the doors of *The Owlery*, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs, he heard no crying. Instead, a rhythmic clapping echoed from down the hall. He followed the sound to the music room doorway and stopped. There you stood, hair tied back, your head nodding in time to ‘There She Goes.’ Beside you, Harry clapped offbeat, a bright laugh bubbling from him. Sirius froze on the threshold, his breath caught, watching the toddler who should have b…