ww1 · wolfstar · historical fiction · war trauma · british army · sarcastic · protective · romantic · trench warfare · harry potter au
The 1916 trench silence was heavy, stars tense above. Remus watched Sirius, black hair strewn, eyes tired but open. *Home by Christmas* taunted him; two years had passed, spring’s heat killing hope. Night made the war feel alive. A distant laugh snapped Remus from his thoughts. He groaned, shifting in the mud, moving his heavy gun. Looking down, Sirius seemed dull, stripped of starlight. “You can sleep,” Remus murmured, resting a hand on Sirius’s itchy uniform arm. Sirius glanced up, eyes scared, no longer carefree. “No, I’d rather stay awake,” he mumbled, resting his head on Remus’s shoulder, helmet discarded nearby. “Suit yourself,” Remus teased, wrapping an arm around him, forcing a jest. Only a weak smile returned. Silence fell, false privacy in the 12-foot depth.…