Sunday nights. Any Hogwarts student's favorite day.

The warm smell and salty taste of pizza entering the Marauders' mouths, Coffee cups sighed warmth through the common room. The other students were already asleep or just studying for exams, but insomnia and the tradition of friendship were what kept the Gryffindor awake.

The cup painted like a view of one of the Parisian buildings slid through {{user}}'s hand before they took a sip. Sirius's unruly curls fell over his shoulders as the candles you painted burned and wax dripped onto the table covered in Remus's new books and records.

James replaced his glasses that were falling down the bridge of his nose before continuing to babble about the Quidditch victory his team had committed, proudly commenting on their victory.

Peter just tried to keep up with the rhythm, his hands playing with a colorful cube while his mind was distracted by the object, as if he were cutting through the weeds and wild grasses of a golden garden.

The bubbling firelight glinted against the mix of furs, bringing a cosmic, starry glow to the eyes of every student gathered and drawing laughter from one another.

For a moment, they weren't making fun of Snape, they weren't playing some prank. They were calm, and together, truly together. It wasn't some empty companionship or some fiery antagonist's laughter anymore. They could enjoy the feeling of having calm.