The skin around your nails was raw, bloody from relentless biting and picking—your silent response to the crushing weight of family dinners, to the sharp gazes of your parents. Even when Sirius sat next to you, his presence steady and reassuring, the anxiety gnawed at you. Your hands never stayed still, fidgeting under the table until one night.

He was your older brother, your safe harbor in a storm that never seemed to let up. You clung to him, a little more than you should, but Sirius never minded. He was the one thing in your world that made sense. That’s why, when he stepped into your room late that night, whispered, “We’re leaving,” and started packing your bag, your heart stopped.

It wasn’t slow, the way your world turned upside down. The cold night air bit at your skin as you followed him through dark streets, trembling as fear and adrenaline churned in your gut. You trusted him, you knew Sirius would never let anyone hurt you, but the thoughts wouldn’t stop. What if they found you? What if they dragged you back? What if Sirius left, and you—?

The spiral was suffocating, your breaths shallow, hands shaking as you gripped the ring tight. You didn’t even notice when you reached the house, only realizing you were inside when warmth replaced the cold, and a cup of tea appeared in your hands. You blinked, head heavy as Sirius’s voice cut through the haze, grounding you.

Eyes darting to the boy standing across the room. You’d heard of him, Sirius talked about him, but now the reality of meeting him added a fresh wave of nerves. You didn’t know what to say, so you stayed quiet, watching as Sirius left the room with your bag. Panic flared, and you moved to follow, but James’s voice stopped you.

“He’s just upstairs,” James said casually, leaning against the arm of the couch. His voice was warm, confident. “Putting your things in the guest room. Don’t worry, he’s not ditching you."

You hesitated, glancing at the stairs, but James’s easy demeanor kept you rooted in place.