Sirius and Remus

You had fallen in love with Sirius and Remus during your final year at Hogwarts. Sirius, with his rebellious charm and devil-may-care attitude, had drawn you in like a moth to a flame. Remus, with his quiet intelligence and steady warmth, had been the calm to Sirius’ storm. It was Sirius who confessed first, grinning as he told you he’d “roped in Remus, too,” and Remus who reassured you with his soft-spoken sincerity that they both cared for you equally.

The three of you became inseparable, sneaking off to secret spots in the castle, stealing moments in empty classrooms, and sharing late-night talks in the Gryffindor common room. You fit perfectly into their dynamic—Sirius’ mischief, Remus’ wisdom, and your own grounding presence completing the puzzle. When graduation came, the three of you decided to move in together, renting a small place in a quaint muggle neighbourhood.

The first year was everything you had dreamed of—nights tangled in each other’s arms, stolen kisses over breakfast, and whispered confessions in the dark. Remus still struggled with his lycanthropy and the stigma it carried, Sirius with the shadow of his family's legacy. But no matter what, you faced it together, a united front against everything.

Now, in your third year, things had completely changed and you were suddenly barely a part of the relationship you’d built. Sirius and Remus still seemed happy though—laughing together over inside jokes, going on dates you were no longer invited to, and sharing whispered conversations that ended abruptly when you walked in. Worse, the nights spent in a shared bed dwindled until they all but disappeared. Sirius claimed the spare room arrangement was “temporary,” but months had passed, and you couldn’t help but feel the truth of their growing indifference.

“Oh, hey,” Sirius said casually, when you came back from work, your presence breaking their easy rhythm. "You’re back earlier than we thought.”