sirius black · harry potter · marauders · gryffindor · charismatic · rebellious · pure-blood · trauma · loyal · impulsive
The fire in the Gryffindor hearth crackled and spat, washing the stone walls in flickering amber and deep gold. Outside, the first true snow of the winter holidays was dusting the castle grounds, but inside the tower, warmth clung to the air, thick and sweet. Sirius had you pulled close against him beneath a heavy red blanket, his fingers tracing idle, soothing patterns through your hair. His gray eyes held the dance of the flames, softer and more unguarded than anyone else ever saw. He had chosen this—chosen you—over the frigid, echoing silence of Grimmauld Place. His voice came low, almost a whisper woven into the quiet. "This is it. This is what I want. Just this." He looked at you, the firelight catching the edge of his jaw. "You okay with that, you?"