Breakfast
James and Peter were already half-dressed, talking loudly between themselves. Peter was struggling with his tie, muttering as he tried to fix it, while James was rambling about Quidditch, his voice bright and confident.
Sirius kept his back turned, moving quickly. His scars weren’t something he wanted anyone to see.
James, oblivious, continued. “So, obviously, Gryffindor’s been in a rough spot the last couple of years, but that’s only because they haven’t had me yet. I’m telling you, Sirius, we’re going to have the best team in years.”
Sirius smirked. “Bold claim, Potter. You any good, or just full of yourself?”
James gasped dramatically. “How dare you. I am fantastic, thank you very much.”
Peter snorted. “He’s actually not bad. We used to practice loads back home.”
It was clear they were good friend and had known eachother for a long time.
Sirius wasn't quite sure how he fit into that dynamic.
Sirius nodded, half-listening as he fastened the last button on his shirt. By the time he turned around, he was fully dressed, and neither James nor Peter had noticed anything. Good.
Remus emerged from the bathroom, already dressed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He still hadn’t quite warmed up to Sirius, and Sirius knew why. The Black name meant something to people. It carried weight, the kind of weight that made people wary. They made their way down to the Great Hall, where the long tables were already filled with food. The smell of fresh bread, sizzling bacon, and warm syrup filled the air.
Sirius spotted the platter of French toast immediately and didn’t hesitate to load up his plate, drizzling it generously with syrup.
James, on the other hand, grabbed a bowl of porridge and proceeded to dump a truly offensive amount of sugar into it.
Sirius stared, horrified. “That’s criminal.”
James grinned. “This is the proper way to eat it.”
Peter frowned. “That’s just sugar with a bit of porridge in it.”
“Exactly,” James said proudly.
Sirius rolled his eyes, taking a bite of his French toast. The taste was warm, sweet, and comforting, one of the few things that still reminded him of home in a good way.
The four of them ate in relative silence for a few minutes before Remus set his fork down and looked at Sirius. “Where are you from? Your accent... it's not completely English.”
Sirius blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “What?”
“Your accent,” Remus repeated. “It’s slight, but it’s there.”
Sirius hesitated, then shrugged. “French. English is my second language.”
James, mid-bite, nearly choked on his porridge. “Wait, what?”
Peter looked equally surprised. “You don’t sound that French.”
Sirius smirked. “I’m good at hiding it.”
James squinted at him. “Say something in French, then.”
Sirius thought for a moment, then smirked. "Tu mets trop de sucre dans ton porridge, Potter."
James frowned. “That better have been a compliment.”
Sirius just grinned and took another bite of his toast.
Remus, who seemed a little more relaxed now, tilted his head. “So, half French and half English?”
"No, fully french but my parents made me learn English when I was really young so most people dont notice the accent". Sirius explained
He turned to the others. “What about you lot?”
James perked up. “I’m half Latino! My mum’s from Mexico.”
Remus looked up in surprise. “Really?”
James nodded. “Yeah, but we live here in England. I can’t speak any Spanish, though.”
James groaned. “I tried! But every time I started learning, Mum would switch to English.”
Remus nodded. “That happens a lot. It’s harder to learn when no one speaks it around you.”
James sighed dramatically. “Finally! Someone who understands my struggles.”
Peter, who had been quiet, perked up. “I don’t have anything interesting like that. I’m just from the same village as James.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow. “So you guys have been friends for a while then?”
James grinned. “Oh yeah. Pete and I have been partners in crime for ages.”
Peter nodded. “We used to sneak out and explore all the time.”
Sirius smirked. “And yet, neither of you can tie a tie properly.”
Peter scowled. “Shut up, Black.”
Sirius turned back to Remus. “And you, Remus?”
Remus hesitated for a moment. “Wales.”
James, curious as ever, asked, “Do you speak Welsh?”
Remus looked slightly uncomfortable but nodded. “Not fluently. I know a few phrases.”
James looked delighted. “Say something, then!”
Remus sighed but muttered a phrase in Welsh under his breath. It had a soft, lyrical quality, and Sirius found himself staring.
“That was beautiful,” he said before he could stop himself.
Remus shrugged. “It’s nothing special.”
Sirius smirked. “I think it sounds nice. You should speak more often.”
Remus didn’t respond, but Sirius swore he saw the hint of a smile.
James suddenly clapped his hands together. “Right! New rule. We all have to teach each other words from our languages.”
Sirius smirked. “Brilliant. I can insult you in French, and you won’t even know.”
Remus smirked. “Oh, I’ll know.”
Something about the way he said it made Sirius’s stomach twist in a way he didn’t fully understand, and he immediately looked back at his plate, suddenly very interested in finishing his breakfast.
The conversation drifted after that, moving onto Hogwarts, the castle’s secrets, and all the places they shouldn’t go but definitely would.
They weren’t exactly friends yet. Not really.
But maybe, they were getting there.