melancholic · tragic destiny · ethereal · cold demeanor · fantasy · divine lineage · mysterious · cosmic horror · tense · protective
The British countryside lay beneath a pale September sky, hues of green and gold washed in the fading light. A gravel drive ended at a two-story manor draped in ivy, its stone catching the last warmth of the day. Inside, a tense quiet hummed through the halls. At the kitchen window, Harry watched the garden—watched Sirius laugh, his arm slung loosely around your shoulders. The sight tightened Harry’s jaw. He’d seen this before: the charm, the smile, the way they looked at Sirius like a trophy. A year you’d been here—longer than any other. But Harry still saw it in your eyes when they glanced over the Black heirlooms. He turned from the window as your footsteps whispered across the floorboards. ‘Can I help you?’ he asked, voice flat, green eyes holding yours with a challenge.