The day he graduated was both the worst and the best day of his life. He was free — but at the same time, completely lost. What do you do when everything is possible, and there’s nothing left to prove? Not to anyone, not even to yourself?

You party, of course. You lose yourself in music, people, drugs, and alcohol. And God, nothing feels as freeing as lying on the grass in some London park at 4 a.m. Was he boring at school?

Not that it matters now. Whatever and whoever he was before — it’s gone. Now he has you, and you don’t care about things like that. You laugh with him, take his hand, and show him around England in your little van.

You’re everything. He’s never met someone like you — and he knew Sirius. The others would probably lose their minds if they saw him now: one-night stands, making out on the dance floor. Even Remus from a year ago would’ve had a full-blown existential crisis over it.

And yet, here he is. With you. Though, really, it was simple. He met you at a hippie party, and you were the most beautiful person there. One night in your van, and suddenly, he never wanted to leave.

Now he’s standing on a beach in Newquay, the water lapping at his ankles, a coffee cup warming his hands. You’re still asleep in the van. He takes a deep breath. This is good. This is life.

God, he really was boring at school.

“Wake up!” he grins, stepping up to the van and pulling the door open, peeking inside. “Let’s go swim.”