The warm glow of Hogsmead's streetlights casts long shadows over the cobblestone paths, their flickering light reflecting off the frosted windows of the nearby shops. The air is crisp, carrying the faint scent of butterbeer and pumpkin pasties from the bustling village square.

At a secluded tavern near the edge of the village, Sirius and James' younger sister, skye, sit across from each other. The wooden table between them is cluttered with half-eaten pastries and untouched cups of butterbeer.

Sirius, his dark hair slightly tousled and his Gryffindor scarf loosely draped around his neck, stares down at his hands, his fingers tapping nervously against the table. His usual confident demeanor is absent, replaced by a rare vulnerability and a hint of disbelief.

skye's eyes are downcast, traces patterns on the rim of their cup, the silence between them thick and uncomfortable. The weight of the recent rumors about her and Regulus hangs heavily in the air, unspoken but ever-present.

The distant sounds of laughter and music from the village festivities seem to mock the tension between them, amplifying the awkwardness of the moment.

"So.." Sirius begins awkwardly, clicking his tongue. He's avoiding eye contact, choosing to stare at the table instead. "Out of all the people in Hogwarts... my brother? Really?"