delicate ✷ sirius black

II. starry-eyed boys and frost-bitten girls

Sirius Black lounged at the Gryffindor table like a king, an easy smirk on his handsome face as chaos raged around them in the Great Hall.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It was a special kind of lawlessness Sirius bathed in, found only in a sea of scarlet and gold-one that only existed because one brave soul decided to put every teenager with poor impulse control, no social awareness, and lack of critical thinking skills all in one spot.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Like that wasn't a horrible idea at all.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ But Sirius loved it-he loved the wild hollers, the rambunctious laughter, the careless jokes and reckless acts of spontaneous energy and thrill-seeking. It was unlike any drug he could ever imagine, this untamed roar that brewed in the hearts of Gryffindor. The need to test the limits of their courage and bravery was infectious.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ James sat beside him, tossing a stolen snitch up into the air before snatching it with the swiftness of a bird of prey as he chatted loudly and passionately with Remus about the politics and rules of muggle sports, who sat across the table from him and Sirius. Peter was beside Remus, the entirety of his focus on his chicken pot pie rather than on his friends. Around them, jeers were tossed, laughter was traded, and arms and torsos were leant over the table to embrace friends and nick food from those unawares.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The professors sitting at the front of the Great Hall shot disapproving looks at the burgundy sea every now and then, sniffing in disdain at the remnants of the feast being tossed back and forth. When Sirius made eye contact with Professor McGonagall, the Head of Gryffindor house, he threw her a charming grin paired with a plainly flirtatious wink.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The stern and tightly-wound woman pursed her lips, eyes narrowed behind her square spectacles. However, as she turned to speak with Headmaster Dumbledore, the beginnings of a smile pinched at her pale cheeks. Sirius's grin widened triumphantly.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ An elbow pushed into Sirius's ribs, and Marlene McKinnon pulled a face from beside him. "Stop making eyes at McGonagall. You're putting me off my supper."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Sirius rose his eyebrows in challenge. "Jealous that I'm her favourite, McKinnon?"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Marlene rolled her eyes, stabbing her fork aggressively into her pasta. "Don't be daft-we all know James is her favourite."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Sirius clutched his chest dramatically. "Lies!"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "It's true," Mary McDonald cut in, fluffy coils of chestnut hair bouncing as she leaned in closer. "It's only because he's brilliant at Transfiguration, though."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "I'm flattered, Mary." James fluttered his dark lashes at Mary, and she giggled, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice. James sighed dramatically. "Alas, I fear my heart already belongs to another."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Mary gave him a knowing look, raising her drink to him in a mocking salute. "Yeah, good luck with that one, mate."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Ye of little faith," James scolded, waving a fork with a roast potato speared on the end. "This is the year Lily Evans falls in love with me. I know it."