𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄 ☆ Sirius Black ✔️ *slowly editing*

n i n e

If there is one thing that unites all houses (well, except Slytherin, of course, they rarely see eye to eye on anything), it is the unanimous belief that Gryffindor knows how to throw the most memorable parties.

The festivities typically kick off right after the match, but it is after the younger students retire to their dorms that the real party commences. As the common room gradually clears out, the Marauders emerge, bearing bottles of firewhiskey, wine, mead, and an assortment of snacks.

As for music, that is my domain. I've charmed a Muggle record player to fill the room with a playlist of popular Muggle and Wizarding tunes. I took over the role of a dj after Peter insisted on playing the same album by The Clapping Frogs for an entire party last year, so no one dares to dispute the decision.

I settle into a chair by the fireplace, observing the party around me with a glass of wine in hand. On the floor beside me, Marlene engages in a lively game of Exploding Snap with Remus, Peter, and Mary McDonald, who is friends with Dorcas and insists on me not playing. The quartet downs a shot every time a card detonates, and they are already quite inebriated.

In a quiet corner, Lily and James share an intimate moment, Lily's fiery red hair, the only visible trace from my vantage.

Another exploding card jolts me from my thoughts, prompting me to take another sip of my wine.

"Bottoms up!" Marlene proclaims, downing a shot of firewhiskey. Her face twists in distaste as the liquor meets her tongue.

I feel a pair of eyes on me and glance up to find Flynn Park, a seventh-year, staring at me from across the room. I quickly avert my gaze and let out a sigh. Suddenly, the room feels suffocating, my skin prickling with discomfort. I need to escape.

"I need some fresh air," I tell Marlene, rising from my seat.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Marlene inquires, concern in her eyes. I shake my head and make my way toward the portrait hole, snagging a bottle of firewhiskey and hoping Flynn won't follow.

Once out of the common room, my breathing gradually steadies. The empty corridors provide solace; no judgment, no animosity, and no one eyeing me up and down.

When I've walked far enough from the common room to be certain no one has trailed me, I uncork the bottle and raise it to my lips. As the potent liquor courses down my throat, I wince and let out a small cough.

"Not used to the taste, I see," a voice remarks.

I turn towards the sound, finding Sirius seated by a window, moonlight illuminating his features as he cradles a handrolled joint.

"I doubt anyone drinks this for the taste," I reply, my face still contorted in reaction to the whiskey.

Sirius grins and extends his hand, reaching for the bottle. I walk up to him and hand him the bottle, but instead of retracting my hand, I gesture towards the joint.

"I didn't take you for a smoker," he remarks with a smirk. I accept the joint, give it an examination, then bring it to my lips and take a cautious inhale.

"Good Godric, it's worse than the whiskey," I cough as the smoke envelops me.

Sirius bursts into a hearty, howling laugh.

"Why is this so popular? It's foul!" I grimace and hand him back the joint.

"It relaxes you. Try taking smaller inhales next time," he advises, gently placing it to his lips and inhaling slowly.

I gulp. Every instinct urges me to leave, but instead, I take a seat on the windowsill beside him. "So, what brings you out here? I thought being inside was more your scene."