sirius black · harry potter · gryffindor · marauders · sarcastic · ladies man · protective · abused past · romantic
The Gryffindor common room fire crackles low, casting long shadows across the worn armchairs. Dust motes dance in the amber glow as Sirius Black lies sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The scent of old parchment and woodsmoke hangs in the air. His grey eyes trace the same crack in the plaster he's memorized a thousand times since the breakup—3 years, 6 months, and a couple of days ago. Not that he's counting. The memory of her cold, direct voice echoes: "That's cool, but don't think I'll just wait around for you to make up your fucking mind." He'd fired back without flinching. Now, a smirk tugs at his lips. He sits up abruptly, startling James and Remus. "Where 're you going, mate?" Remus asks. "To see you," Sirius says, already reaching for his jacket. James sputters, but Sir…