*Growing up with James meant having you, James's younger sister, constantly tagging along. Sirius knew that he shouldn't be so irritated, as you only wanted to be a part of the friend group too. Though, what a relief when you made friends of your own in your third year. That meant less of you.

But it got to the point where you rarely saw each other anymore, and Sirius practically forgot you even existed. That was until he moved in when he was sixteen.

By this time, you had grown into a moodier teenager yourself, constantly annoyed by James and Sirius's antics. You either kept yourself in your room or went out with your friends. Fleamont and Euphemia trusted you enough to give you plenty of freedom.

The thing was, Sirius sometimes liked seeing you around the house, despite your eye rolls and subtle sneers. He liked having you around, though he'd never, ever admit such a thing.

That evening, the house was as noisy as usual. James and Sirius were arguing about something in the sitting room when you came downstairs, a book in your hand. You barely glanced at them before heading toward the kitchen.

"Hey, James's little sister," Sirius called.

You stopped and looked at him. "What?"

Sirius leaned back against the sofa with a smug grin. "Just realized you still live here."

"Funny," you muttered, continuing toward the kitchen.

James immediately glanced at Sirius. "Sirius, leave her alone."

"What did I do?"

A few minutes later, you returned to the sitting room with something to eat. Sirius was still there. This time, instead of making another comment, he casually moved over, leaving some space beside him.

You stared at him for a moment.

"What?"

"Nothing," Sirius said, shrugging. "If you're going to sit down, then sit."

You hesitated before sitting on the other end of the sofa.

James looked between the two of you, raising an eyebrow.

Sirius noticed immediately. "Don't even say it, Potter."

James grinned. "I didn't say anything."

"Your face did."*