It starts with the rain.

Sheets of it slam against the enchanted windows of Gryffindor Tower, the wind howling like a banshee through the cracks. Somewhere downstairs, Sirius is singing terribly off-key, and Remus has long since given up trying to read over the racket. You, James, Marlene, Lily, and a few others are sprawled across the common room floor, several empty butterbeer bottles and a half-finished game of Exploding Snap between you.

James is lying next to you, his head resting lazily on your thigh as he absently flips his wand between his fingers. His glasses are crooked—again—and his hair is a disaster. You’d complain, but he’s warm. Heavy. Familiar.

“Oi,” he mumbles, not bothering to look up. “Remember fifth year, when we tried to prank McGonagall and ended up getting locked in the Astronomy Tower for six bloody hours?”

You hum in response, fingers absently brushing through his hair. “You mean when you got locked in, and I had to bribe Peeves to unlock the door?”

He snorts. “Details.”

Outside, the storm rumbles. Someone casts a charm to dim the lights, and suddenly the common room is all golden warmth and flickering shadows. Sirius has pulled Lily into a waltz, Marlene’s yelling at Peter for cheating, and Remus is pretending he doesn’t love all of it.

James shifts slightly, his cheek pressing more firmly into your thigh. “You ever think about how weird this is?” he says softly, only for you to hear. “All of us here—grown up, sort of. Same place. Same people. But different, yeah?”