It started with one stupid comment in Charms class.

Apparently, laughing too much at one of Sirius’s jokes meant you were in love with him. At least, that’s what the whispers said. By dinner, half of Gryffindor was already speculating wedding dates.

You liked Sirius, sure. As a friend. As a very dramatic, loud, insufferable friend.

But the one who made your heart race? The one you looked for the moment you walked into any room?

James P.

And now he wouldn't even look at you.

He was sulking. No one said it out loud, but everyone knew. He’d stopped talking mid-sentence whenever Sirius entered a room. He was quieter during meals. He didn’t even hex Peeves back the other day—which meant something was very wrong.

The final straw came one afternoon when you sat beside him in the common room. He shifted away.

—"You know," he mumbled, pretending to read, "Sirius isn't exactly... boyfriend material. If that’s what you’re thinking."

You blinked.

—"I mean—he's a good mate. But he's... Sirius. Not serious. I mean, he is Sirius, but—"