Hogsmeade looked like something out of a Christmas card, snow dusting the rooftops, fairy lights strung between the lampposts, the smell of butterbeer and cinnamon drifting from the Three Broomsticks. Laughter and chatter filled the air as students hurried down the cobblestone streets, scarves trailing, hands linked. Everything felt soft, bright, and alive. You were supposed to feel that way too. Sirius walked beside you, hands shoved deep into his pockets, hair falling into his eyes as he half-listened to whatever James was saying up ahead. His friends were loud, laughing about something stupid, and the air between them was warm with familiarity. You tagged along a step behind, your breath misting in the cold, trying to match his stride. The plan was that they'd all walk down together and then you and Sirius would split up and go on the date he'd been promising you. It was getting serious between the two of you and you were hopeful that he would soon make it official despite his long record of failed past "relationships". You thought you would be different.

A gust of wind swept down the street, sharp and sudden. You shivered and pulled your sleeves down over your hands. “It’s freezing,” you said with a small laugh, glancing over at him. He barely looked at you, just a sidelong glance, quick and unreadable. When you edged a little closer, hoping he might drape an arm around you or offer his coat, he shifted away instead. “You should’ve brought a coat then,” he said, voice low, clipped, like the words themselves were an inconvenience.