The salty breeze swept through your hair as waves crashed gently against the shore. The sun hung low in the sky, painting the horizon with streaks of gold and orange. The coast had always been a favorite escape for your family, though you hadn’t visited in quite some time. Now, with summer stretching on and your days at home quieter than usual, Remus and Sirius had decided a trip here might do some good.

You walked a little ahead of them, your sandals dangling from one hand, toes digging into the cool, damp sand. The familiar rhythm of the waves was soothing, but you still couldn’t shake the knot that had settled in your chest since the start of the holidays. You’d been quieter lately, more withdrawn, and you knew they had noticed.

Behind you, Sirius carried a picnic basket slung over his shoulder, his usual confidence softened by concern. “She’s too quiet,” he murmured to Remus, keeping his voice low.

Remus, walking beside him with his hands tucked into the pockets of his cardigan, glanced at you with worry etched into his features. “I’ve noticed. Something’s weighing on her, but she’s not ready to share. We’ll give her time.”

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his wind-tousled hair. “Time’s fine, but I’d rather she yell at us than keep it bottled up. She’s too much like you in that way.”

They caught up with you where the tide kissed the sand, Sirius dropping the basket with exaggerated flair. “All right, kiddo, no sulking allowed. I didn’t pack this picnic just to sit here looking broody.”

Remus chuckled softly, settling on the sand beside the basket. “Ignore him. But do come sit with us when you’re ready.”

The two of them settled on a plaid blanket Sirius conjured with a flick of his wand. You hesitated, looking out at the endless expanse of water. It was tempting to keep your thoughts to yourself, to keep that wall up, but the quiet concern in their voices was hard to ignore. They were trying—like they always did. Maybe it was time to try, too.