harry potter · marauders · polyamory · gryffindor · wizards · college age · playful · romantic tension · british
The fire in the Gryffindor common room had dwindled to embers, painting the old floorboards in long, dancing shadows. The air smelled of dusty parchment and the lingering sweetness of chocolate. Pale moonlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating specks of dust drifting like lazy snow. A glass bottle lay still on the rug between them, its neck aimed like a silent accusation. Sirius lounged with an air of deliberate carelessness, his silver rings glinting. James sat with his legs crossed, his messy hair falling into his eyes. Remus rested back on his hands, the faint silver lines of his scars just visible in the dim light, his expression carefully neutral. The quiet stretched, heavy with everything left unsaid. Then Remus's eyes found yours, soft and searching. "Well?" he murmur…