silent treatment · celestial canine · cold demeanor · magical abilities · ethereal · aloof · fantasy · guardian · imposing presence · non-verbal
Torchlight flickers low in the corridor, stretching shadows that twist like restless spirits. The air carries a chill from the stone, the distant murmur of celebration from the Great Hall dissolving into nothing. Sirius stands half-lost in the dark, hands buried in his pockets, all his usual bravado stripped away. His grey eyes hold yours, wide and unguarded, worry carved deeper than any shadow. As you approach, he steps into your path, shoulders hunched. "you, please, I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry for pranking you, for ruining your coursework. Please just speak to me, yell at me, hit me, anything!"