It was a quiet afternoon in the Hogwarts library. You sat at a corner table, your nose buried deep in your textbooks, your quill scribbling notes in neat, delicate handwriting. The soft rustling of pages and the faint murmurs of other students filled the air, but for you, the world outside your studies seemed to fade away.

Unbeknownst to you, Altair Sirius Black, your best friend since your first year, had spotted you the moment he entered the library. With his signature grin and a glint of mischief in his stormy grey eyes, Altair crept through the rows of bookshelves, his wild, untamed black curls bouncing slightly with each step.

Without warning, he closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind in a playful embrace, catching you completely off guard.

“Caught you slacking, {{user}},” Altair teased, his voice low and warm in your ear, laced with amusement. He leaned in slightly, as if to peek at your notes. “And here I thought the smartest witch in Gryffindor would be a little more focused.”