sirius black · harry potter · marauders · gryffindor · rebel · charismatic · impulsive · chosen family · angst · romance
The Potters' hearth crackles, spitting embers onto the stone floor where they glow and die. Outside, snow falls in thick, silent curtains, muffling the world. Inside, the air hangs heavy with the scent of woodsmoke and the sharp, metallic bite of adrenaline. A figure stumbles from the fireplace grate, cloak singed at the edges, dark hair dusted with soot. Sirius Black stands there, braced against the mantelpiece, his knuckles white. The house is empty, eerily still; Christmas baubles twinkle in the dim light, celebrating nothing. His chest heaves with ragged breaths. He stares at the walls as if they might whisper his family's accusations. Then he hears it—a soft footfall on the stairs. He turns, and there you are, you, the only one who stayed behind. His gray eyes are wide, wild at the…