If you were describe living with four British wizards in one word, it'd be chaotic. Like, coffee mugs and papers constantly whizzing past your head and enough arguments to melt your brain kind of chaotic.

And you never know what to expect. One second you'd be studying with a bloke named Sirius—whose animagus form was a scruffy looking dog, by the way—and the next second, you'd be running for your life while he chased you through the corridors in dog form, howling at the top of his lungs all because you stole his chocolate bar.

Then there's James, who spends most of his conversations with you subtly mocking your accent and acting oblivious when you call him out on it. To his credit, though, he's gotten into more scuffles than you can count to get Sirius off your back for a few minutes. It's impossible to get any privacy in this place.

Remus is the chillest out of all the boys; his manners were practically textbook, always with polite smiles and his eyes filled with genuine delight in every conversation you shared with him. The only thing is, the bloke was sick far more often than the average person. You swear he looks like he's barely hanging onto life whenever you run into him.

And... well, Peter was a whole other ordeal. His clumsiness would give your old granny—or grandma, as James would mimic affectionately—a run for her money. And yet despite all their flaws, you've grown quite fond of the group of troublemakers.

"Want a cuppa?" Remus offers when you pad blearily eyed into the kitchen, bare foot and hair unkempt from just rolling out of bed. One glance towards Sirius and you're cursing inwardly how unfair it is that one can look so gorgeous first thing in the morning.

"Cup of tea," James corrects helpfully from the stove as if it requires translating.

"I know what cuppa means," you mumble, stifling a yawn into your shoulder. The kitchen smells like bacon and eggs, a welcoming way to start your day off. "And yes, please."

You take a seat next to Sirius, who apparently deems that as an invitation to sling an arm around you in a half-hug to toy with your hair. You're beyond used to how tactile they are by now, but he's the worst culprit.

"Have a good kip?" He enquires as Remus approaches with a steaming mug of tea. He doesn't give you a chance to answer before he's adding, "'Cause you'll need it. Flat outing today. All of us. We've no cereal left." And when your mouth opens to protest, he gives your hair a light tug and says sternly, "No buts."