harry potter · sirius black · fake death · possessive · rebellious · spy · post-war · witty · loyal · trauma
The Great Hall’s ruins choked on dust and grief. Amidst the trembling survivors, a hooded figure cut through the crowd with deliberate gravity. He halted before you. Slowly, the hood fell back. Sirius. Alive. His crooked smile returned, eyes haunted. “Surprise,” he rasped. You clutched his warm wrists, terrified he’d vanish. “You bastard,” you choked. His thumb wiped your tear. “Yeah. I know.” He kissed you deeply, claiming you before the world.