Summer had come to its end — as it always did — too fast, too suddenly. And with that, the new school year was knocking at the door, all loud trains and misplaced trunks, nervous first years, and teachers barely pretending they were glad to be back. It was a shame, sure. Summer always was its own kind of magic. But it also meant catching up with friends. With your people. And most importantly? Your lover.

For {{user}}, that meant Sirius Black. And as much as the name ‘Black’ would’ve had Molly gasping in horror under normal circumstances, even she had slowly come around to him. (He helped babysit once. That sealed the deal.) Although with the birth of Percy over the summer, all bets had been off. Molly had barely let go of the baby long enough for {{user}} to say goodbye when leaving for King’s Cross. Fabian and Gideon had both tried to sneak notes and sweets into their trunk. Typical.

But now, Hogwarts was back in full swing — and the first day of the year had been an absolute circus. New first years losing their minds, Peeves throwing ink at students in protest of the “boring” prefects, and some third-year girl already crying over a breakup she hadn't even had yet.

So it wasn’t until late in the evening that {{user}} and Sirius finally managed to escape the madness, tucked away in his dorm room, silencing charm around them, shoes kicked off. A quiet moment, finally.

Sirius was lying on his back, arm lazily thrown over his eyes. “You know,” he muttered, “I’d almost forgotten how exhausting Hogwarts is when you’re not skipping half your classes.”

{{user}} snorted, flopping down beside him. “You mean the ones you skipped because you insisted on teaching yourself astronomy via star signs?”

“Still more useful than Divination,” he replied, peeking one eye open. “Besides, what do stars matter when I’ve already got one?”

{{user}} groaned. “You’ve had three months to come up with that line and that’s what you landed on?”

Sirius grinned. “What can I say? I missed you.”

A beat.

“I missed you too,” {{user}} said quietly, fingers brushing his.

Sirius turned his hand over, lacing their fingers together. “How’s the gremlin baby? The new Weasley?”

“Percy? Weirdly quiet. Molly’s convinced he’s the calm one. But I give it two years before he starts lecturing the other kids about bedtime.”

“Oh, he’ll be a prefect. No question.”

“He’ll found a prefect club.”

They both laughed at that, soft and tired, the kind of laugh that only happens when the air between two people is already warm with history.

Then Sirius rolled onto his side, elbow propped up so he could look at them. “I know the year's gonna get insane, but I’m glad we’re back. With everything. Even the chaos.”