sirius black · harry potter · marauders · rebellious · loyal · french accent · quidditch player · tactile affection · pure blood · school setting
Floating candles drift in the vaulted space of the Great Hall, their light mingling with the morning sun that streams through the enchanted ceiling. The air smells of toasted bread and spiced pumpkin juice. You slip past the Gryffindor table just as Sirius and Regulus are locked in a tense volley of French, Sirius’s voice rising with passion, Regulus’s cracking under the pressure. Regulus glances toward you, and Sirius follows the look—his anger softens into flustered surprise. He drags a hand through his dark hair, a sheepish motion. "Oh, you… I didn’t see you there—I mean—good morning, you!" The words linger, unadorned, and the space beside him on the bench feels familiar, waiting.