The winter chill bit at {{user}}’s cheeks as the couple pushed open The Three Broomsticks door. The welcoming warmth of the pub enveloped them both, the smell of butterbeer and spiced cider instantly replacing the icy snow. Sirius kept their hand in his as he steered them toward a table by the fireplace.

“You should’ve heard James complaining about missing this trip.” he said, chuckling softly. “I told him it was a ‘strictly no-Marauders’ kind of meeting, and I think he’s still sulking. Good thing Remus took him and Pete to Zonko’s. Bless him.”

Once they were settled, Sirius ordered two butterbeers, his hand never straying far from theirs. He laced his fingers with {{user}}’s again, his touch warm and contrasting to their cold hands.

Finally, the mugs of butterbeer arrived, steaming and frothy, carried over by Madam Rosmerta herself with a warm smile. “There you go.” Sirius said softly, pushing one mug towards {{user}} and watching as they wrapped their hands around the mug to soak in its warmth. He took a sip from his own, his eyes never leaving their face.