𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄 ☆ Sirius Black ✔️ *slowly editing*

CH 6 - Hogsmeade

I don't even argue when Snape insists we meet Friday night to finish our assignment. The alternative is giving up my Sunday to sit in the library, and there's no way I'm sacrificing my chance to sleep in.

The evening goes about as well as expected: an hour of pointless bickering, followed by another of nitpicking each other's work. Eventually, we manage to throw together a conclusion that's... good enough to avoid another round of arguing.

By the time I sneak back into Gryffindor Tower, it's well past midnight. I barely make it up the stairs before crashing, so when Marlene and Dorcas start yelling at each other the next morning, my patience is nonexistent.

"Will you two shut up!" I groan, my voice muffled by my pillow. My head feels like it's stuffed with cotton, and the sharp voices slicing through the dormitory are doing nothing to help.

"Oh, she's awake!" Marlene announces brightly.

"Barely," I grumble.

A door slams, and I flinch. "What is wrong with you people?"

"Dorcas and Magnus are fighting. Again," Marlene says, ignoring my misery as she plops onto the edge of my bed. "She's convinced you've been snogging him behind her back. I've been defending you."

I lift my head just enough to squint at her. "Can't you defend me after I've had coffee? Or, I don't know, another eight hours of sleep?"

"Oh, don't be such a baby." She yanks the duvet off me in one swift motion, and I let out a sharp yelp as the cold air hits.

"Marlene!" I whine, curling up to preserve what little warmth I have left.

"No beauty sleep for you," she declares. "It's nearly eight, and if you want breakfast before Hogsmeade, you need to get moving."

I roll onto my back and fix her with my best glare. The prospect of spending the day with three of the Marauders almost makes me want to stay in bed. "Are you still going with Gareth, or did you finally see sense?"

"Of course I'm still going with Gareth," she replies. "Up. Now."

Resigned, I shuffle off to the bathroom, muttering under my breath. "Bloody tyrant..."

"I heard that!" She calls after me.

The cold bathroom tiles underfoot do a better job of waking me up than the lukewarm shower that follows. By the time I return to the dorm, Marlene has turned it into a war zone of discarded clothes. Jumpers, dresses, and skirts are strewn everywhere as she debates her outfit.

"What about this?" she asks, holding up a knee-length dress and a pair of brown leather boots.

I pause, taking in the rare sight of Marlene actually putting effort into her appearance. Normally, she just throws on whatever's clean.

"Oh, you fancy him," I tease, crossing my arms.

"Don't be ridiculous," she snaps, though her flushed cheeks betray her.

"Oh, you so do," I insist, grinning.

She throws a pillow at me, which I catch effortlessly. "Shut up."

"For what it's worth," I say, tossing the pillow back onto the bed, "the outfit's perfect. He won't be able to take his eyes off you."

She hesitates, glancing at herself in the mirror. "You reckon?"

"I reckon."

She smiles faintly, and I turn to rummage through my own trunk. After a moment of shuffling through folded clothes and the odd sock that's gone astray, I settle on a comfortable pair of jeans, a lightweight jumper and trainers. I throw on a suede coat, wrap a scarf around my neck and tuck a pair of gloves into my pocket.