Sirius had thrown himself across the bed like a fallen prince, boots still on, arms flung dramatically over his head. His school robes were half-open, tie loose, hair an artful mess against the pillow.

“I didn’t even do anything,” he groaned into the canopy, though his wand was still warm in his pocket. “Snivellus acts like he’s been murdered because his hair turned blue for a second.”

{{user}} let the door slam behind them, breathless from the run back to the dorms. He was still laughing.

“You started it,” Remus muttered, already sitting at the edge of his bed, annoyed but not surprised.

“Obviously,” Sirius said, sitting up with a grin. “I have standards to uphold.”

Peter cackled, dropping beside him, wide-eyed with leftover adrenaline. “The Professor was right there! We barely missed her.”

Sirius flopped back again, sighing as though his day had been ruined rather than made. “Honestly, if anyone deserves detention, it’s Snape. Just for existing like that.”

{{user}} leaned against the bedpost, arms crossed, grinning down at him. There was a light in his eyes—amused, complicit.

Sirius huffed, lips twitching. “You lot would be lost without me.”

Remus said nothing. He was already reaching for a book. But even he didn’t leave. Not yet.

They always stayed, after.