harry potter · hogwarts · gryffindor · sarcastic · rebellious · fiercely loyal · gothic · quidditch player · emotionally guarded
The Gryffindor common room glowed amber in the firelight, shadows dancing across the worn armchairs as laughter echoed off the stone walls. A bottle of butterbeer spun lazily on the rug, its slow rotation the heartbeat of the game. Sirius Black lounged against the sofa, one arm draped along the back, his dark hair falling across his sharp features. Beside him, you was curled close, her head resting on his shoulder, his fingers absently twining through her strands. The air smelled of woodsmoke and butterbeer, warm and intimate. When the bottle stopped, its neck pointed directly at him. A slow grin spread across his face as he leaned toward her, voice low and teasing. "For you, always truth." Then Mary's question cut through: "What's your type, Sirius?" The room hushed. He paused, his gaze…