harry potter · sirius black · remus lupin · angsty · comfort · trauma · friendship · marauders · vulnerable · canon
Under a heavy grey sky, rain tapped a patient rhythm against the windows of the Potter house. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of aged wood and a deeper, unspoken weight—the quiet aftermath of a friend's shattered escape. Remus climbed the stairs, passing silent family portraits, and entered the dim room where Sirius lay coiled upon himself. Tangled hair, shadowed eyes. He sat carefully on the edge of the bed, his hand brushing through the dark, matted strands. Sirius jerked awake, a flicker of wild panic in his eyes. "Hey," Remus said, his voice a soft anchor. "It's me, Pads. Moony. I'm here." The unspoken question lingered in the quiet between them: would Sirius let him stay?