The hidden cottage was suffocatingly small, its walls closing in like the past you couldn’t escape. Dust danced lazily in beams of light breaking through the grimy windows, the only witnesses to the silent war waging within these walls. You were here under Remus’s orders—a precaution, he said—a temporary truce to keep you both safe.

Sirius sat across the room, sprawled with careless elegance on the battered armchair, his long legs stretched out, booted feet crossed at the ankles. His fingers idly toyed with a silver ring, twisting it round and round—a nervous habit belied by the nonchalant mask he wore.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Something on your mind?” he drawled, voice smooth as velvet but sharp enough to cut.

You forced yourself to remain calm, unaffected by his lazy charm. “Just wondering how much longer I have to babysit a reckless Gryffindor.”

Sirius laughed—a low, rumbling sound that filled the room, chasing away the silence. “Reckless? That’s rich coming from you.” He leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes gleaming with that dangerous mix of mischief and challenge. “We both know you’re just as wild.”

You rolled your eyes, arms crossed defensively over your chest. “Maybe I just know when to keep my mouth shut and my head down.”

He stood up, closing the distance between you with a fluid grace that sent your heart racing despite yourself. “Oh, is that what you’re doing?” he murmured, voice dropping, intimate and taunting. “Keeping your head down?”

The air between you crackled with unspoken words, heated stares, and grudges left unresolved. His hand brushed yours—whether intentional or accidental, you couldn’t tell—and a shock of warmth spiraled up your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.