Whispers of the Dove / R.L & S.B

🌼~°20°~🌼

<<<<Willow>>>

The flight from Hogwarts to London was grueling, every wingbeat reminding me of how far I had to go and what was at stake. But I couldn't risk anyone detecting me. I knew my father's tricks all too well, like the back of my hand. I understood the depths of his cunning, the lengths he'd go to pull me back under his control, to make me his puppet once more. The idea that he might have changed was laughable—closer to a zero percent chance than I cared to test.

As my dove form fluttered through the cold night, the stars above seemed to watch over me, a silent audience to my escape. The night sky felt vast, endless, and for the first time in years, freedom felt tangible—almost within my grasp. But I wasn't ready to let go of the fear just yet. It had kept me alive this long.

I desperately hoped the boys had found my apartment safely. The thought of Sirius and Remus navigating the chaos of London gave me some solace, even as anxiety bubbled beneath the surface. They'd given me two days to meet them there, and as I flew past the glowing hands of Big Ben, I realized I had only two hours left until that deadline.

The closer I got, the more I thought about my apartment. It wasn't just a refuge—it was a fortress, charmed with layers upon layers of protective spells. Only those I trusted and who harbored no ill intentions could enter. Unlike many wizarding accommodations, it wasn't hidden from Muggles. In fact, its very visibility was its greatest strength. No one would suspect a witch like me would choose to live in plain sight.

As the city unfolded below me, the hum of its life carried upward, grounding me in the reality of my choices. This wasn't just a hiding spot; it was a symbol of my defiance, of carving out a life on my terms. Tonight, that life would intersect with Sirius and Remus.

I only hoped I was ready for what came next.

Flying up to the living room window, I first saw what appeared to be an empty room. Warm light filled the space, with decor reminiscent of a cozy grandmother's house—floral patterns and vintage charm. It was so familiar yet distant, like a forgotten memory. Then I blinked, and the enchantments on my protection spell kicked in, revealing the true room behind the glass. The interior held a rustic cottage style: soft beige tones, lush greenery scattered in pots and hanging baskets, and a warm, inviting charm. Except now, the space was draped in darkness, the lights turned off.

My gaze shifted, and I froze. On the couch, curled up together, were Remus and Sirius. They seemed to be asleep, but Sirius shifted restlessly, his face contorted even in slumber. A pang ran through me—a feeling I didn't want to name. Jealousy? No, it wasn't that. It was something deeper, an ache, a longing, a hurt I couldn't place. Watching them together, so close and at ease, twisted something inside me.

I stared for a moment longer, gathering courage before I tapped on the window. Being a bird had its advantages, but making noise was not one of them. I pecked softly against the glass a few times until I saw Sirius stir. Remus remained out cold, undisturbed by the soft rapping. Sirius blinked groggily, confusion clouding his face as he looked my way. When our eyes met, relief washed over his features. He scrambled off the couch, nearly tripping in his haste, and opened the window.

"Thank Merlin you're here," he said, his voice laced with genuine relief. Behind him, Remus finally stirred, his sleepy mumbling barely audible. "Willow?" he asked, still half-asleep.

With a deep breath, I shifted back into my human form, my jumper and loose trousers clinging to me uncomfortably after two days of travel. I felt grimy, and the awkwardness of standing in my living room with these two men hit me like a Bludger. What was I thinking? I'd never lived with anyone other than my father before—what did I even know about sharing space with others?