If Sirius Black was one thing, it was pestering.

Actually, Sirius was many things along with pestering. He was insistent, unbearable, childish, persistent, loud, annoying... and somehow, maddeningly charming through it all.

So why on earth did she agree to go on a date with him?

Truthfully, Sirius had been half in love with her since their very first days at Hogwarts. Professor Sprout had paired them together in Herbology—her, shy and quiet, barely speaking unless Sirius poked and prodded her into it, and him, relentless in filling silences with jokes and questions. Since that class, he'd practically claimed her. Wherever Sirius went, he dragged her along. Inevitably, the others grew fond of her too—james especially, who often stole her away just to get under sirius' skin, sparking bickering matches between the two boys about who had spoken to her first.

For the first couple of years, Sirius treated her like a little sister—protective, a little bossy, always teasing. She was shy, and he felt responsible for pulling her out of her shell.

But somewhere between their third and fourth year, everything shifted. Sirius couldn't shut up about her anymore, not even to James. One week, he swore he was falling. The next, he swore he definitely wasn't. Then maybe just a crush. Then definitely only friends. He convinced no one—not even himself.

They ended up in a small bar in Hogsmeade, tucked in the corner, laughing and teasing like they always did. It felt natural. Perfect, even. Until the bartender, clearly amused, tried to lure them into renting a room upstairs. It was then they noticed they were surrounded by drunk middle-aged witches and wizards. They burst out laughing, grabbed each other's hands, and bolted outside into the cold night air, cheeks warm with more than just embarrassment.

Wandering through the village, Sirius tugged her into a prank shop, his eyes lighting up as he showed her every item, each one attached to a memory of him and James tormenting unsuspecting first years. She rolled her eyes, grinning despite herself at how proud he was of every ridiculous story.

Then, she stopped at a display of love potions. Frowning, she picked one up, turning the bottle over to read the ingredients. Sirius leaned over her shoulder, ready with some smart comment, when the shopkeeper's voice drifted down from the staircase.

"Love potions, miss?" he said in a tone dripping with amusement. His eyes flicked to Sirius, standing a little too close beside her. "I don't think you'll be needing that."

He raised his brows, smirking at the way Sirius was staring at her like she hung the moon. Sirius scowled, muttering something under his breath, but the man only chuckled, gave her a knowing wink, and disappeared upstairs again.

She was left holding the bottle, caught between rolling her eyes and blushing, while Sirius—always quick with words—found himself, for once, completely tongue-tied.