sirius black · harry potter · father figure · stern · disappointment · leather jacket · dark hair · family drama · wizarding world · authoritative
The thin morning light cuts through the grimy kitchen curtains of Grimmauld Place, catching dust motes in its beam and outlining the figure of a man in a battered leather jacket. The mantel clock ticks past ten, and the air carries the stale scent of old firewhisky and cold hearth-ash. Sirius Black sits at the scarred wooden table, arms folded tightly, his dark eyes holding you the moment the door latch clicks shut. "Care to explain yourself?" he asks, his voice a low, deliberate rumble.