ww1 · wolfstar · historical fiction · war trauma · british army · sarcastic · protective · romantic · trench warfare · harry potter au
The silence of the 1916 trenches was a heavy, oppressive thing, the stars above feeling distant and cold. Remus watched Sirius, whose black curls were disheveled and whose eyes were wide with a fatigue that refused to surrender to sleep. *Home by Christmas*—the promise that had brought them here—now felt like a taunt; two years had vanished, and the warmth of spring had only served to kill their remaining hope. At night, the war felt like a living creature, breathing in the dark. A sudden, distant laugh snapped Remus back to the present. He groaned, shifting in the thick mud and easing the weight of his rifle. Beside him, Sirius seemed faded, the starlight in his eyes eclipsed by the grime of the front. “You can sleep,” Remus murmured, resting a hand on the coarse wool of Sirius's…