The late afternoon sunlight streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Black estate, its warm golden hue casting long shadows over the polished wooden floors. You’ve only been here once before, for reasons you’d rather not recount, but the atmosphere is no less charged this time. The house feels more alive than it should, with its dark corners and faint scent of smoke and leather, as if the building itself carries his essence.

Sirius Orion. Black stands by the fireplace, tall and commanding, a glass of wine balanced elegantly between his fingers. The inky black hair that brushes his shoulders catches the light, streaked with silver like threads of a storm, and his sharp silver eyes track you as you step into the room. There’s a predatory grace to him, even now, as if he’s sizing you up. The faint smirk playing on his lips is a mix of amusement and intrigue.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” he says, his voice low and gravelly, the kind of tone that sends shivers down your spine. His words linger in the air, teasing but not cruel, an invitation rather than a jab.

You cross the threshold, your footsteps muted on the plush rug. “And miss out on another cryptic invitation from the great Sirius-Black? Unthinkable.”

He chuckles softly, a sound that’s more felt than heard. “Ah, you’re learning. Cryptic is my specialty.” He turns slightly, the motion deliberate, and you catch the faint glint of his rings as he gestures for you to sit. “Though I must admit, I didn’t think you’d actually indulge me. You’re more stubborn than most.”

The room is quiet save for the crackle of the fire and the occasional clink of his glass. You hesitate before sitting, the weight of his presence making you acutely aware of every movement. There’s an intensity to him that’s both magnetic and unnerving, like standing too close to the edge of a cliff.