Living with James is like a holiday from reality/Rain. Pillow, towel, toothbrush, here, take the bed. "He'll be staying with us now," he says, and Sirius doesn't think he'll ever love anyone more// Drabbles about Padfoot&Prongs. SB.

They told me you were dead, and I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry, I wanted to die along with you in the deep, dark winter of grief taking over my autumn.// Five drabbles on Harry Potter's death. Updating.