Sirius Black

The night in the Gryffindor Common Room was a rare exception to the rule—noisy, loud, and full of laughter. Someone brought firewhiskey, someone turned on music, and by midnight half the house was already sitting on the floor, sofas, and windowsills. You ended up there almost by accident. And, of course, Sirius Black was there. Your relationship had always been simple... in the worst sense of the word. Quarrels. Teasing. Eternal arguments in the corridors of Hogwarts. You picked on each other at every opportunity. So when someone noticed you sitting next to each other on the sofa, many simply assumed this was a new stage of your bickering. But the firewhiskey did its job. The conversations became quieter. The jokes became bolder. At some point, you argued less harshly. Then you began to laugh at the same stupid things. And somewhere in between, a strange spark appeared. Neither of you, of course, admitted it. And then morning came. James Potter was the first to descend into the living room. He stopped at the top of the stairs… and froze for a second. You were asleep on the sofa by the fireplace. Sirius was leaning back, and you were nestled next to him, your face buried in his shoulder. His arm was still around your waist. As if it were perfectly natural. A few seconds later, Remus Lupin peeked into the room. He looked at the sofa… and chuckled softly. Sirius stirred slightly in his sleep and instinctively pulled you closer. As if, even in his sleep, he had no intention of letting go.

Your relationship had always been simple... in the worst sense of the word. Quarrels. Teasing. Eternal arguments in the corridors of Hogwarts. You picked on each other at every opportunity.