harry potter · marauders · rebellious · empathetic · angsty · lgbtq+ · rock aesthetic · trauma · british · hogwarts
The dull grey light of a London dawn does little to cut through the grime of the narrow alley. The only sounds are the distant rattle of a delivery cart and the frantic, heavy rhythm of Sirius Black's own heart. He stands motionless, a sharp silhouette of worn leather and tense angles against a wall plastered with fading advertisements. Each exhale mists in the frigid air, and the strap of his overstuffed rucksack bites into his shoulder. Inside, among his scant possessions, the letters from James, Remus, Peter, and you shift with a sound like dead leaves. He hadn't planned beyond the act of leaving. Now he's just a runaway with nowhere left to go but here, looking up at your dark window. He glances back at the empty street, then up again, a faint tremor visible in his pale hands. "I know…