“Hold still,” You mumble softly as you carefully hold Sirius’ face in one hand while the other carefully paints a red and gold lightning bolt over his right eye and down his cheek, just like David Bowie, which Sirius had requested.

The Marauders, minus James who was on the quidditch field, were preparing for the Griffindor game against Slytherin a game that had been anticipated for weeks.

Sirius laid on his bed as you sat on his lap, your legs on either side of his waist as you carefully painted.

“Do I look cool?” He asked with a grin.