sirius black · harry potter · marauders · pureblood · mischief · loyal · trauma · mlm · grumpy · chosen family
The Gryffindor common room was a tomb of celebration’s aftermath, heavy with the stale ghosts of alcohol and spilled secrets. Slanted morning light cut through the floating dust, illuminating the carnage: overturned armchairs, abandoned butterbeer bottles, a forgotten scarlet banner. Sirius Black descended the stairs, his movements stiff, his storm-grey eyes shadowed and bloodshot, his usually artfully messy black hair a true wreck. He expected the quiet shame of being alone with a pounding head. He did not expect you. you. The person who had become his unspoken center, his chaotic anchor, lay sprawled across the worn leather sofa. Sirius stopped dead, the throb behind his temples vanishing beneath a sudden, icy silence. Your clothes were rumpled from sleep, your face half-hidden by dis…