23 dates

Regulus jolted awake, drenched in sweat, his heart thudding uncomfortably against his chest. The air in his room felt thick, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that clung to him. He glanced at the clock—2:45 AM. The room was dim, and his phone lay just within reach on the bedside table.

With a slow, reluctant motion, Regulus unlocked his phone. A message from Alfie appeared, sent two hours earlier. Regulus squinted at the screen, rubbing his eyes before reading it aloud to himself.

“Hey, Regulus. Random question, but do you ever feel like you’re stuck in one place, like no matter how much you move, you’re just… not going anywhere?”

Regulus stared at the words for a moment. It wasn’t exactly the conversation he expected after a couple of brief exchanges with Alfie. But he wasn’t sure what to say. Maybe he wasn’t ready for this kind of vulnerability, especially in the middle of a sleepless night. He tossed the phone back onto the bed with a sigh, shaking his head.

He slipped out of bed and padded down the hall, his feet cold against the wooden floor. The house was silent, unnervingly still. When he stepped into the kitchen, he was surprised to see James sitting at the counter, shirtless, a slice of leftover pizza in hand. James glanced up, taking a bite of pizza, and then shrugged.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” James asked, his voice casual, though his eyes were slightly tired, betraying the sleeplessness in his voice.

Regulus paused in the doorway for a moment, the faint glow from the fridge casting shadows across James’s bare skin. “Just getting water,” Regulus muttered, his voice low and somewhat distant as he moved toward the fridge.

James gave a nonchalant shrug, leaning back in his seat, the pizza in his hand barely leaving his mouth. “Yeah, insomnia’s been kicking in again,” he said with a soft, tired chuckle. “Seems like it’s just one of those nights.”

Regulus didn’t say anything for a moment, only pulling out the bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap and took a long drink, feeling the coolness soothe his dry throat. His gaze drifted to the window, the stillness of the night hanging in the air, and he let the silence stretch between them for a moment.

Regulus glanced out the kitchen window, staring blankly at the empty street. The night air was cool, the quiet of the house almost too still. He reached for his water, feeling a little more awake now, but the lingering restlessness in his mind was still there.

James, sitting across from him with a slice of pizza, gave him a casual glance. “You want a slice?” he asked, lifting the pizza box closer to Regulus. “Got plenty.”

Regulus eyed the slice, his brow raising slightly. “Not poisoned again, is it?”

James smirked, taking a bite of his own pizza. “If you’re expecting me to pretend to die for your amusement again, you’re going to be disappointed.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back a smirk. “Well, it’s your fault. You’ve set the bar pretty high.”

James just shrugged, clearly unfazed. “Guess you’ll have to trust me this time, huh?”

Regulus took a step back, leaning against the counter as he glanced at the pizza but didn’t take it. “You’re lucky I’m not starving,” he said, his tone light.

James chuckled. “You sure? This is the finest leftover pizza in the land. Don’t let your hunger be the one to miss out.”

Regulus couldn’t help but laugh, but he shook his head, deciding not to get sucked in. “I’ll pass”.

“Your loss,” James said with a grin, finishing off his slice and tossing the rest of the pizza back in the box. “If you change your mind, it’ll still be here.”

Regulus gave a small nod and turned to head toward the stairs, feeling the weight of his tired limbs again. “Good night, James,” he said, his voice a little softer than usual.

“Night, Regulus,” James replied, his eyes following Regulus as he made his way to the stairs. Then, with a quiet chuckle, he added, “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

Regulus paused, glancing over his shoulder. He couldn’t quite place the shift in tone, but it made him pause for a second. With a small, nonchalant smile and continued upstairs.

Regulus sat back against the headboard of his bed, his legs stretched out in front of him, phone in hand. The glow of the screen illuminated his face, casting shadows across his sharp features as he stared at the message from Alfie. He hadn’t replied yet, and for once, he wasn’t sure what to say. The words seemed to fall flat as he mentally sorted through the options, none of them quite right.

Just then, the sound of the door creaked open, and Barty sauntered in, all effortless swagger. His hair was a dark, tousled mess, the kind of look that said he’d spent too much time at a party and not enough time worrying about it. His dark eyes gleamed with mischief as he dropped himself onto the bed beside Regulus, sprawling out like he owned the place.

“Still not replying, huh?” Barty’s voice was laced with a teasing edge as he slung an arm casually over Regulus’s legs, leaning back on his hands.

Regulus rolled his eyes, his thumb hovering over the screen of his phone. “I haven’t replied yet.”

Barty chuckled, his lips curling into a half-smile that always seemed like he knew something you didn’t. “Shocker. You’re practically addicted to these dating apps, and yet, you can’t send a single message. What’s the hold-up?”

Before Regulus could answer, Evan slipped into the room, his movements graceful and quiet, as though he had every intention of making himself at home in Regulus’s space. His pale blond hair fell into his eyes in that lazy, deliberately messy way, and his quiet demeanor made him seem like he was above the chaos Barty was always creating. But his smile, soft and knowing, suggested otherwise as he dropped down onto the bed, squishing himself between Barty and Regulus.

“For someone who spends more time on dating apps than he does on actual dates,” Evan said, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back on his elbow, “you really don’t put much effort in, do you?”

Regulus’s eyes narrowed, and without missing a beat, he grabbed his pillow and hurled it at Evan, catching him square in the chest. Evan let out a mock gasp, then grabbed the pillow, hugging it dramatically. “Oh, cruel! I only speak the truth, Regulus.”

Barty snorted beside him. “Honestly, I don’t know how you do it, Reg. You go on these dates, you get these messages, and yet you do absolutely nothing about it. Are you secretly a hermit or just… allergic to fun?”

Regulus leaned back into the headboard, his gaze flicking between them both. “I’m just not in the mood for small talk, okay?”

Evan gave a short laugh. “Small talk? With Alfie? Are you sure that’s not you running away from the attention?” His grin widened, his tone full of mischief. “I thought you’d be all over a guy who calls himself ‘blonde hair, big muscles, and a love for good food.’ That’s your dream man right there.”

Regulus rolled his eyes and began typing back, his fingers pausing before he hit send. “He asked me a really random question,” he muttered to himself, almost as if talking to the phone itself. “Said, ‘Hey, Regulus. Random question, but do you ever feel like you’re stuck in one place, like no matter how much you move, you’re just… not going anywhere?’”

Barty raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A random question? That’s… something. Is that supposed to be a deep, philosophical pick-up line or just a weird way of making conversation?”

“I don’t know,” Regulus said, scrunching his face slightly, trying to process the oddity of it all. “It’s… weird. Right?”

Evan propped himself up with one arm, his expression cool but filled with humor. “Weird? Yeah, I’d say so. But also, you don’t get many of those types of messages, do you?” He leaned in a bit, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “It’s actually kind of refreshing. The guy’s clearly got a different approach.”

Barty, now sitting up slightly, shot a knowing look at Regulus. “Oh, I see what’s happening here. You’re getting flustered by the thought of an actual intellectual conversation, aren’t you?” He nudged Regulus’s side with his elbow. “It’s not just all pizza and gym selfies for once. Alfie’s got depth. Look at you.”

Regulus threw a half-hearted glare at Barty, who was clearly enjoying every second of his discomfort. “I’m not flustered. It’s just… it’s a strange question.”

Evan, who had been quietly observing the back and forth, suddenly spoke up. “You’re overthinking this. The guy’s clearly trying to be different, standing out from all the other ‘hey, you’re hot’ types. So… what’s your plan?”

Regulus groaned, throwing himself back against the bed in frustration. “I don’t know! He’s… he’s fine, I guess. But this whole thing feels like an exercise in awkwardness.”

Barty flopped down beside Regulus, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. “It’s okay, Reg. We get it. You’re scared of commitment. Scared of a real connection. Just admit it.”

Regulus raised his head to give Barty a deadpan stare. “I’m not scared of anything.”

Evan snorted, shaking his head. “Clearly, you’re scared of putting any effort in. But hey, we’ve all got our hang-ups.” He paused before adding, “At least answer him. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Regulus sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. I’ll reply.” He tapped at the screen, his fingers slow as he crafted his response.

Barty leaned in, peering over Regulus’s shoulder. “No way,” he said with a grin, “don’t do the ‘I don’t really know, I feel fine, thanks for asking’ thing. Make it interesting. Tell him you’re too busy dealing with existential dread.”

Regulus shot him an exasperated look. “Shut up.”

Evan raised the pillow again, gently smacking Regulus’s shoulder with it. “Alright, alright, we’ll let you off easy. But don’t come crying to us when you let a guy like Alfie slip away.

Regulus groaned, grabbing the pillow from Evan and launching it at him. “Can you two leave me alone!” he snapped, flopping back against the bed, arms spread wide in exasperation. His patience was wearing thin. First, they’d been teasing him about Alfie, and now they were just relentless.

Evan ducked effortlessly, the pillow missing him by a hair. “Aw, come on, Reg,” he teased, grinning widely. “You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little intrigued by this Alfie guy. You’ve been staring at that message for hours.”

Barty, who had been leaning lazily against the dresser, suddenly moved with the quickness of someone who was up to no good. With a smirk, he reached for Regulus’s phone on the bedside table. “You know,” he said, pulling it out of reach just as Regulus tried to grab it back, “I think we need to help you with this response. You’re clearly overthinking it.”

“No, I’m really not,” Regulus muttered, trying to sit up. “Give me my phone back.”

“Not yet,” Barty said, holding the phone just out of his reach and tapping the screen a few times. “We’re going to compose the perfect message, and you’re going to send it to Alfie.”

Evan, now standing with his arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. “We’re not writing something lame, are we? Please tell me we’re not going with something like ‘sorry, I’m not emotionally available right now.’ Because that’s a huge red flag, Reg.”

Regulus let out a deep sigh, rolling his eyes. “Can I please have my phone back?” he asked, sounding almost like a child asking for his favorite toy.

But Barty was having none of it. He swiped through Alfie’s previous message with the kind of focus you’d expect from someone deciding the fate of an entire kingdom. “Hmm,” Barty hummed, squinting at the phone. “This guy’s into deep questions, huh? Let’s make it dramatic. Really reel him in.”

“No! No drama!” Regulus shot up from the bed, trying to reach for his phone, but Barty held it just out of his grasp, laughing as he stepped back a few paces. “You’re overthinking it!” Regulus said again, this time more desperately. “I’ll just… I’ll just reply with something normal, alright? Something simple.”

Evan, ever the instigator, grinned devilishly. “What about something like, ‘Alfie, are you asking me if I feel stuck because you want me to feel stuck with you?’” He burst out laughing at the suggestion, throwing his head back, the sound echoing in the room. “That’s bound to get a response.”

Regulus groaned, collapsing back on the bed with a huff. “I’m not sending that. Please stop!”

But Barty, who had started pacing around the room like a general preparing for battle, nodded solemnly as though he had just come up with a brilliant idea. “No, no, Evan’s onto something. What about, ‘I do feel stuck… but only in this conversation with you right now, Alfie.’”

“Barty, please!” Regulus begged, now practically crawling on the bed as he reached out for his phone once more. But Barty was too quick for him. He held it higher, his arm stretched out like a playful tease, just beyond Regulus’s fingertips.

Evan, by now thoroughly enjoying the chaos, sidestepped to join in, holding the phone between them. “I’m just saying, the guy’s clearly trying to get you to open up, Reg. You’re like an onion. Layers, lots of layers. Maybe it’s time you peeled one back for him.”

Regulus’s cheeks flushed slightly as he flopped back against the pillows. “I don’t want to open up to him. I don’t even know him.” He let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “I just want to reply and get it over with.”

Barty dramatically slapped a hand over his heart. “Regulus, mate, you’re breaking my heart. You’re going to let a man like Alfie get away without a proper conversation? Come on, you’ve got to send something to make him think.”

Evan stepped forward, the smirk never leaving his face. “I’d love to see you send something clever and keep it cool. Don’t overthink it.”

“I’m begging you,” Regulus groaned, hands in the air in surrender. “I’ll never go on another date again if you just give me the phone back. Please!”

But Barty was relentless. “Oh, we’re not done here yet. You’ve got to keep the mystery alive, Reg,” he said, walking in a slow circle around the bed. “Maybe something cryptic like, ‘I’ve been stuck before, but that was in traffic. This? This is a whole new level.’”

Evan doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach. “Oh my god, yes! That’s gold. Let’s make Alfie think you’re on a whole other plane of existence.”

Regulus had finally had enough. With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he launched himself off the bed, making one final attempt at reaching the phone. He grabbed Barty’s wrist and tugged, pulling him towards the bed. The two of them tumbled, Barty laughing like a maniac while Regulus tried to wrestle the phone away.

In the scuffle, Barty managed to twist his body just enough to keep the phone out of Regulus’s reach, even as he was pinned half into the mattress by a very determined and increasingly furious Regulus. His arm shot up again, holding the phone just out of reach while laughing like this was the best entertainment he’d had all week.

“Get off me, I’m trying to craft a moment of brilliance!” Barty wheezed, kicking his legs dramatically like a child throwing a tantrum at the supermarket, except he was clearly delighted.

“You’re crafting a disaster,” Regulus snapped, lunging again. “This is sabotage. Give me my phone!”

“No can do, sweetheart,” Barty said smugly, thumbing at the screen with exaggerated care. “‘I’ve been stuck before, but that was in traffic—this is a whole new level.’ It’s gold. He’ll love it.”

Evan, now fully curled up in a beanbag chair across the room like he was watching reality TV, raised his drink in salute. “He’s not wrong. It’s unhinged in a sexy, intriguing way.”

“Unhinged is not the brand I’m going for!” Regulus shouted, grabbing a pillow and smacking Barty in the chest with it.

Barty barely flinched. “Babe, let us work. You’re too emotionally involved.”

“I am emotionally involved!” Regulus growled. “It’s my phone. My conversation. My social life you’re turning into a bad rom-com.”

Evan shrugged, completely unbothered. “You’re welcome.”

Regulus turned to glare at him. “You’re worse than him.”

“Obviously,” Evan said cheerfully. “But at least I’m fun.”

Barty continued adjusting the text like it was a piece of performance art. “We need the perfect punctuation. Should we go with a period, or maybe an ellipsis? Give it that dramatic, broody flair.”

“Ellipsis,” Evan said without hesitation. “Let him spiral.”

Regulus let out a long, guttural groan and flopped back onto the mattress, limbs splayed like a man experiencing a personal tragedy. “I hate you both.”

“No you don’t,” Evan said.

“I do,” Regulus muttered into the duvet. “Deeply. Profoundly. To the core of my being.”

“Should we add a follow-up text?” Barty mused. “‘Also, I once got stuck in a lift for three hours and had an existential crisis. Thinking of you.’”

Evan howled with laughter. “YES. Regulus, let us text for you forever.”

“I will never date again,” Regulus mumbled, not even lifting his head. “I’m going to become a recluse. Move to the woods. Change my name.”

“I’ll come visit,” Barty offered. “Bring snacks.”

Evan leaned over the edge of the bed. “Alright, alright, back to the message. You want us to tone it down? We can be subtle. What about something like, ‘I don’t feel stuck. I just don’t know what I’m doing.’ Real vulnerable, real open.”

Regulus slowly sat up, face pale like he’d seen a ghost. “Don’t you dare type that. I would rather eat glass than look emotionally available right now.”

Barty grinned like he was auditioning for a villain role. “So we agree: traffic metaphor wins.”

“No!” Regulus cried, scrambling to reach for the phone again. But Barty twisted away and leapt off the bed, doing a lap around the room like a quarterback in slow motion, phone held aloft.

“He’s chasing me!” Barty called gleefully. “I’m being hunted by love and desperation!”

“Give it back!” Regulus was breathless, eyes wild. “Barty, I’m serious. If you send that—”

“Send what?” Barty stopped dramatically, thumbs hovering over the screen. “This?”

“Don’t.” Regulus held up both hands. “Barty. Don’t be stupid. Just give it back.”

There was a pause. For a second, it seemed like Barty might actually cave.

And then—

Tap.

A single, silent press of the thumb.

Message sent.

Regulus froze.

Evan stared at the phone like it had just delivered a divine prophecy.

Barty exhaled, serene. “It is done.”

Regulus blinked. “You didn’t.”

“He did,” Evan confirmed, already sliding the phone into the pocket of his hoodie and stepping backward like he’d just secured the crown jewels. “And it was beautiful.”

“You actual psychopaths,” Regulus hissed, launching himself toward Evan now. “Give me my phone! I’m deleting it—I’m throwing it in a lake—I’m—!”

“Too late,” Barty said from the bed, arms behind his head like a man at peace. “It’s in the digital ether now. Alfie is out there… reading… thinking… wondering.”

“I’m going to fake my death,” Regulus muttered, pacing like a man possessed. “New phone, new identity. I’ll tell my mum I died in a freak texting accident.”

“You’ll thank us when he’s obsessed with you,” Evan said, clearly trying not to laugh. “This is how legends are made.”

Regulus stopped and turned to face them both. “I hate you.”

Barty blew him a kiss. “And yet, you let us in your house.”

Evan winked. “You love us.”

“I’m blocking you both,” Regulus said flatly. “On everything.”

The phone dinged.

Just once—soft, almost innocent.

But to Regulus, it sounded like a warning siren. His head snapped toward the screen where Alfie’s name had popped up in bold. A message. Already.

“Oh no,” he breathed, frozen in place.

Evan practically lunged for it. “No way. He replied? That fast?”

Regulus snatched the phone off the bed before either of them could get their hands on it again. He held it like it might burn him. “Don’t look at me. Don’t even breathe near me. I need a second.”

Barty flopped dramatically onto the floor, arms spread. “He’s spiralling. The spiral has begun.”

Regulus didn’t open the message. He just stared at it, heart thudding in his chest like it was trying to claw its way out. “What if he thinks I’m insane? What if he replies with a laughing emoji? Or worse, just says ‘lol’?”

Evan snorted. “God, ‘lol’ is emotional death.”

Before Regulus could respond, there was a knock on the door. Three quick taps.

Then a voice, casual and way too amused:

“Hey, uh… is everything okay in there, or are you being murdered?”

The room went dead silent.

Barty and Evan froze mid-sentence, mid-movement, mid-everything.

Regulus closed his eyes like he was praying for strength. “Yes, James, I’m fine.”

A beat of silence.

Then Barty leaned over and whispered, “Who the hell is that?”

Regulus sighed, still not looking up from the unread message. “My brother’s annoying friend.”

From the other side of the door, without missing a beat:

“I’m still here, by the way.”

Regulus groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

Evan grinned like a kid caught with a slingshot. “Ohhh, that’s James. Voice sounds hot.”

“Shut up,” Regulus muttered.

Regulus didn’t even need to look at the door to know James was smiling. That infuriating, smug, ever-so-slightly amused smile that somehow managed to crawl under his skin without even trying.

He could feel it.

Then came James’s voice again, still lingering just outside:

“See ya. I’m heading out.”

Another pause.

A beat too long to be casual.

And then footsteps, retreating down the hall.

Regulus exhaled slowly, staring at the now-muted screen in his lap like it was a ticking bomb.

Barty sat up on his elbows. “That was definitely flirting.”

Regulus threw the pillow at him again.

James shuffled down the cobbled street, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. The cold air bit at his cheeks, but it did little to wake him up. Lately, nothing seemed to wake him up—not coffee, not fresh air, and definitely not sleep.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a full night of rest. It had started off small—just a few hours lost here and there. But now? Now it was every night. Lying wide awake in bed, watching the hours tick by, his mind refusing to shut off. Thoughts of everything and nothing swirled together in a jumbled mess, the silence of the night only making it worse.

And then there was Remus.

James had invited him out to the cafe, mostly to get away from the dark corners of his mind for a while. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a decent conversation with someone that didn’t involve the uncomfortable weight of his own thoughts pressing down on him. Remus was an easy friend to be around—no judgment, just a steady presence. If anyone could make him forget the restlessness gnawing at his insides, it was Remus.

The cafe appeared in the distance, warm light spilling out onto the street like an invitation. James pushed open the door, the bell above jingling softly as he stepped inside. The scent of coffee and pastries hit him immediately, calming him more than he expected.

Remus was sitting in the far corner, one leg crossed over the other, a book in his lap. His usual look of quiet concentration softened into something warmer when he spotted James.

“Hey, you made it,” Remus said, setting the book aside and standing up to greet him.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” James replied, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His tiredness didn’t seem so crushing with Remus around, though he could still feel it lurking beneath the surface.

He slid into the seat across from Remus, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “You’re looking good for someone who had to drag me out of bed,” James joked, trying to shake off the exhaustion that had settled into his bones.

Remus chuckled, but there was something in his eyes that James couldn’t quite place. “You’ve been doing okay, right? You don’t look like you’ve slept.

James waved a hand dismissively, though his stomach tightened. “I’m fine. Just… late nights. You know how it is.”

Remus raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. James was thankful for that. Instead, Remus reached for the menu and started to scan it, letting the conversation slide back into more familiar territory. 

James stared at the menu, but he wasn’t really reading it. His fingers traced the edge of the laminated paper absently, his thoughts elsewhere. He could feel Remus’s eyes on him, like they were weighing him down, probing for something more than just the surface-level conversation they’d been having.

James didn’t look up, but he could sense Remus’s unease. “Go on, Rem,” he said, his voice light but lacking his usual energy. “What do you want to ask about Sirius?”

Remus was quiet for a beat too long, and when he spoke, his words were carefully chosen, like he’d been rehearsing them in his head. “Has he said anything about me?”

James froze for a second, his finger stopping mid-drift across the menu. He hadn’t been prepared for the question, not that he should have been surprised. The air between them had been thick with unspoken things for a while now, but hearing Remus actually ask about it… it felt different.

James didn’t answer immediately. He swallowed, trying to push past the knot in his throat. Instead, he focused on the menu in front of him, trying to mask the discomfort that was beginning to creep up.

“Not much,” he finally said, but it sounded flat to his own ears. “He hasn’t really said anything… about anything, really. You know Sirius. He likes to shut down when he doesn’t know how to handle something.” He felt his stomach twist, the guilt creeping in. “It’s like he’s pretending it never happened. Like he’s just ignoring the whole thing.”

Remus nodded slowly, his gaze still locked on James as if he were trying to figure out if James was lying or just saying the words he thought Remus wanted to hear.

“I don’t know what to do, James,” Remus said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that felt heavier than any joke or distraction James might try to offer. “I’m not going to force him to talk to me, but… It’s not easy pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.”

James’s heart tightened at the honesty in Remus’s voice. He hated seeing him like this—vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to. Normally, Remus was the one who kept everything together, the one with all the answers. To see him cracking at the edges made James realize just how much this was affecting him too.

“I get it,” James said softly, finally looking up at him. “Sirius is… well, Sirius. Stubborn. He won’t admit he’s wrong until he’s absolutely backed into a corner, and even then, it’s a stretch. But I know he’s not doing this to hurt you. He just doesn’t know how to handle it.

Remus let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I just want things to go back to normal,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “But it doesn’t feel like it ever will.”

James leaned back in his chair, feeling the shift in the conversation like a weight pulling the air down between them. He could see it—the way Remus was trying to hold onto something that didn’t seem to exist anymore. He had always been the type to bury things deep and pretend they weren’t there, but this time, it wasn’t working.

“I’m sorry, Remus,” James said, his voice low, almost apologetic. “I wish I could do more to help you fix it. But I think you both need time. Sirius just… he needs time.”

Remus looked at him then, a small, almost defeated smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “Time,” he repeated, as if testing the word. “I guess you’re right. Maybe I just need to wait until he’s ready to talk.”

James reached across the table, his hand settling gently on top of Remus’s. It wasn’t anything dramatic, but there was a softness to the gesture, an unspoken understanding. “Rem,” he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of years of friendship, “give him time. Everyone knows you two will figure it out. That guy loves you to pieces.”

Remus let out a quiet, almost incredulous laugh. “James, whoever the lucky guy is to date you, I can’t fucking wait to meet them,” he teased, shaking his head slightly as he met James’s gaze.

James rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m more focused on you and Sirius first,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Once you two are sorted, then I’ll wait for my true love.”