Regulus never saw himself with someone—not because he couldn’t, but because people required attention, explanations. Remus never saw himself with someone—not because he couldn’t, but because people asked questions. So, naturally, they gravitated toward each other.

And then, at some point, they included you. Not in a way that needed confessions or expectations, but in something easy—unspoken, indulgent, understood. It wasn’t committed, but it wasn’t casual either. It just was.

No one at Hogwarts had the faintest clue. The three of you were careful, calculated, private.

Book club seemed to do it for most people.

The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with students, all chattering and laughing. The music overtook most of that noise, and so did the occasional chanting of that stupid Gryffindor song. Because, of course, they had won another match, this time against Hufflepuff, and they just had to throw a party.

"I'm bored out of my mind," you muttered, passing the cigarette to Remus. "It's always the bloody same."

This was the thing, too: at every party, the three of you ended up together having a smoke, discussing whatnot, and sneaking glances. And Regulus was only here because Sirius had invited him, and by extension that meant Regulus took you with him.

Remus took the cigarette back, taking a drag. "You know how they get when they win," he shrugged, the smoke from his mouth coiling in the air like a snake."They won by ten points," Regulus added, motioning to Remus to pass the cigarette. "It's embarrassing for them, honestly."