The Wishing Well
Sirius has only ever had one friend. Severus.
He's not handsome, in fact his hair is greasy from being unwashed and his skin is rather pale and his dark eyes are often being rolled caustically.
He's not friendly, in fact he's often impatient and snaps frequently, and sometimes when he's angry he says terrible things about wizards born without magic.
He's not gentle, in fact his hugs are jerky and far and few between, and last time he had to heal Sirius' scraped knee he didn't even give him fair warning before washing out the wound with a potion he had brewed, intending to sell. And then he had grumbled about wasting a potion.
He's not a pure blood, in fact his father is a muggle, and they both agree to hate the man because of the scars on Sev's back.
But when his eyes aren't rolling Sirius thinks they're rather nice to look at.
And he always apologises for what he says when he's angry.
And Sirius is honestly surprised that he bothered with the potion in the first place.
And Sirius is a squib, so they're even on that.
Sirius has only ever had one friend, and honestly? That's all he's ever needed to wish for. The well is abandoned without a second glance.