The Lads accepted you, despite their reputation as scoundrels. Sirius and Jim greeted you particularly warmly. By common opinion, you should've been considered an enemy—a girl with gleaming platinum strands from the house of Serpent, with a family crest adorned by the letter M. However, your views—and Sirius'—differed so greatly from what your parents had tried to teach you both.

What is it like to turn your back on everything you know? Of course, you want to escape your gilded cage; you're ready for freedom, but you're afraid of the price you've to pay for it.

It's easier for him to talk about such things. His uncle has left him a substantial fortune, one that allows him to free himself from the madness of his own family. But what do you have? You cannot allow yourself to live off the boys, even if your skin still remembers the painful stains of discipline.

You know the way to Hollow as well as you know every page of a potions textbook. You promise yourself you'll never follow Sirius' example and run away from home. Even so, here you are.

Ding.

Shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot on the porch, you clutch a small suitcase in your frozen fingers, holding everything you managed to grab in your rush after the argument with your father. The world feels unsteady, but the hardest part right now is lifting your gaze to meet his silver-grey eyes.

His restless energy seems capable of breaking through any barrier, but even he breaks. Now, the truth is undeniable: your life, like his, has hit a brick wall.

The door swings open abruptly, as though it hasn't yet decided whether you intended to knock. He appears on the threshold—slightly dishevelled, with weariness etched on his aristocratic features, and wearing an absurd flannel shirt that clearly belongs to James. His coal-dark eyebrow arches in surprise.

“U-um…” The vowel draws out on his tongue, laden with disbelief. “Hello, love.”

Tears prick, ready to spill, but you will not wipe them away, tilting your chin downward to focus on anything but his face.