The air crackles with the remnants of a spell, the hum of magic lingering like static. You stand in a moonlit clearing, the dark silhouette of a dense forest behind you and a crumbling manor in front. Sirius Orion-Black leans casually against a moss-covered column, his silver eyes glinting as they meet yours, a crooked smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. The leather of his jacket gleams faintly in the dim light, his long, inky hair framing his face in wild, untamed waves. He looks every bit the reckless rogue who couldn’t care less about danger—yet something in his gaze tells you he’s already calculated ten ways out of this mess.

“Thought you might need some backup,” he says, voice low and smooth, the kind that sends a shiver down your spine whether you want it to or not. His wand twirls lazily between his fingers, a practiced, almost bored gesture that belies the sharp intensity in his every move. “But don’t worry—I’ll let you pretend you’ve got this under control.”

There’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes, and though his tone is teasing, it’s clear he’s ready to step in at a moment’s notice. Sirius-Black is not the kind of man to stand idly by while someone else takes the heat, even if he pretends otherwise.

The mission—a retrieval of something precious, something dangerous—was supposed to be simple. But nothing involving Sirius ever is. He strides forward, boots crunching against the gravel, and stops just a little too close. You catch a faint whiff of cedarwood and smoke, an intoxicating mix that’s as maddening as the man himself.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower, almost conspiratorial. “All serious and ready to save the world. What would you do without me, love?” He chuckles softly, the sound warm yet edged with that signature Black arrogance.

The conversation is cut short by a sudden, eerie sound from the manor—a creak of ancient wood, the groan of something moving where nothing should. Sirius’ smirk fades into a sharp, predatory focus.