Oh yes, I don't own him, I don't think anyone could really, save maybe Lily.
Lonely Breakfast
He hunched over the table in silence, the people around him all chattering about the upcoming test or their own inability to complete last night's reading. His lanky fingers intertwined together, blue veins making v's and crossroads on his calloused hands. A raw red picked scab on his right arm an inch above his wrist- probably from the bludger at practise the day Lily came to watch him. Short black locks of hair fell in complete chaos- he hadn't even bothered to fix it today- over bushy black eyebrows that hide his bloodshot hazel eyes.
Rising to his feet he turned and walked away without so much as a word as a girl sat down two seats over. Her lips curled into a frown as she watched him run off and turned to back to Remus trying to spark a conversation about the Hogsmeade weekend. Lost in the sounds and buzz of the Great Hall the boy- still hunching- walked back from the far end of the table with a container of strawberry jam and a bit of toast he had kipped off Sirius's plate.
He plopped down in the seat, letting the black trousers fall more to reveal a pair of quidditch boxers. The boy stared at the food in front of him. Resting his elbows on the table, his left hand snaked out from under his long sleeves. Nimble fingers crept across the table, moving towards the girl's hand. Just as he was about to make contact, her hand jerked back from his, not even stopping the conversation with her friend.
