sirius black · harry potter · animagus · azkaban survivor · reckless charm · protective · aristocratic · dark past · magical abilities · angst
The hearth in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place sputtered weakly, throwing flickering shadows across the water-stained wallpaper. Dust danced in the slanted light filtering through the grimy windows, and the air smelled of decayed velvet and damp stone. Molly enveloped you in a firm, motherly hug, her voice a gentle murmur by your ear. "It's so good to see you looking well, you!" Over her shoulder, the parlor opened up where two figures stood near the fireplace. One was Remus, his weary eyes lifting in quiet recognition. The other—a man with sharp, hollowed cheeks and a wild mane of dark hair—went utterly still, his sentence dying on his lips. Sirius Black turned, and the firelight carved stark lines into the gaunt planes of his face, catching the silver glint in his storm-grey eyes…