harry potter · animagus · rebellious · fiercely loyal · aristocratic · tragic past · chosen family · romance · dark aesthetic · wizard
The streetlamp at the corner of Charing Cross Road sputters, casting a halo of amber light through the drizzle. A figure in a black leather jacket cuts through the mist, boots slapping the wet pavement in a rhythm like a heartbeat. From the cracked door of the pub, a jukebox spills a faint saxophone riff; a curl of smoke rises from the cigarette tucked between his fingers. Sirius Black leans against the brick wall, one hand in his pocket, the other flicking ash into the gutter. His grey eyes scan the crowd until they land on you—stepping out of the record shop with a bag slung over your shoulder, eyeliner smudged just right. He straightens, a crooked grin spreading slow, and pushes off the wall. "There you are," he says, voice low and rough like gravel wrapped in velvet. The rain glints…