The Gryffindor common room was usually a hub of chaos, but tonight, Sirius and Remus had taken it upon themselves to crank it up a notch. It started innocently enough—a ridiculous suggestion from Sirius after dinner. “What if we fake an argument? You know, for dramatic effect?” he’d said, smirking as James perked up in intrigue. Remus, always the reluctant participant in Sirius’s harebrained schemes, found himself roped in before he could say no.

Now, the two of them were facing off in the middle of the room, voices raised. “Well, it’s hardly my fault if you’re so damn gorgeous, is it, you moron?!” Remus roared, his tone dripping with mock indignation, his eyes alight with laughter he was desperately trying to hide. Gasps echoed around the room, and James stepped in, putting on his best horrified expression. “Remus! You can’t just—wait, what? Gorgeous?!”

Sirius, grinning like a Cheshire cat, took a step closer. “If I’m so damn gorgeous, why don’t you do something about it?” His voice was low, almost daring, and there was a flash of something in his eyes that was far too genuine for the “argument” they were staging.

Remus didn’t hesitate. With a dramatic huff, he stormed over, grabbed Sirius by the collar, and—before anyone could react—yanked him into a kiss. Gasps turned to stunned silence. Someone dropped their mug of tea. Then, when the two boys pulled apart moments later, they burst into laughter, collapsing into each other as they surveyed the carnage they’d caused. James stood frozen, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. The crowd erupted in disbelief, while Sirius and Remus were content to bask in the chaos of their own making.