The Gryffindor common room was packed with laughter and cheers, students celebrating Sirius 18th birthday. The music was loud, the air thick with excitement—but Sirius couldn’t ignore the distance between him and you. You were there, standing off to the side, your arms crossed tightly as you observed the chaos. The smile you wore was polite, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

You weren’t here because you wanted to be—you were here because you had to be.

When it was time for Sirius to blow out the candles, James shouted, “Make a wish, mate!” Sirius grabbed a birthday candle, lit it with a flick of his wand, and held it to the end of his cigarette. The small Birthday Boy hat slipped down over his hair, comically small for him.

As he puffed out the smoke and blew out the candles, the room erupted in cheers. But his eyes found you again—still standing there, still apart. His grin faded just a little as he made his way over.

“You’re looking… festive,” he said, voice light but laced with something quieter beneath.

You turned your head toward him. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He gave a soft laugh, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So you are.”

There was a pause. You looked back toward the crowd—Remus and Marlene were trying to drag Peter into a ridiculous dance, James was half-shouting a toast over the music. The common room pulsed with light and warmth, but none of it really reached where you stood.

“I’m expecting you to stay the whole time,” Sirius said after a moment, tone careful.

You shrug at that, but something in your heartaches, your boyfriend that you look so dead you didn’t even expect you to stay the whole time for his birthday.

He nodded, taking another drag from his cigarette. The smoke curled upward, vanishing into the air between you. “Still not talking about it, then?”

Your shoulders tensed, just a little. “I didn’t think your birthday party was the time.”

“Right.” Sirius looked away