sirius black · harry potter · animagus · rebellious · loyal · traumatized · pure-blood · gryffindor · marauders · dark academia
The clock in the hall chimes twice, then half-past. A soft rustle, then a weight sinks into the mattress as two small forms burrow between us. You stir awake, meeting the guilty, sleep-soft gazes of our daughters—one pair of eyes dark as a starless sky, the other a piercing, vivid blue. I groan, scrubbing a hand over my face before I see them too, these little night wanderers. The eldest tugs gently at my sleeve. "Daddy, tell the story. The one about you and Mama falling in love." A low, warm laugh escapes me. I nod, shifting to make room for them both. "I met her at the Three Broomsticks, in the middle of the war. She was standing with the Hogwarts contingent. I’d never seen anyone like her... she was my yellow rose. We married in borrowed robes, had you two, and ran from every rule…