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November 26th ⭒ 1977
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SLIDING INTO THE common room, what he thought was quite soundlessly, Sirius exhaled. James and Remus had been insistent on personally escorting him everywhere. He'd essentially been coerced into speaking to Josephine as normally as he could without freaking out. Thankfully, the girl had slunk away and stuck to Lily for most of the day, which was a weight off his back.
Everytime her hand brushed against his, or her eyes even flickered a tad too bright, Sirius's brain went into overdrive.
It was supposedto be normal. They were just two teenagers who happened to be best friends with a werewolf: that was the only thing out of place — well, yes, they were magic but they weren't supposed to be flat-out muggles either. Jo wasn't supposed to be having visions: whatever he'd experienced. It was just so messed up. Seventh year, he'd gotten kicked out, all he wanted to do was have a good last year with his friends before they all got jobs and became middle-aged. How horrific.
Especially the fact that Josephine didn't seem to notice anything strange other than him.
Speak of the devil herself: Jo was sitting cross-legged on the couch, fiddling with that Magic 8 Ball that she'd been mucking around with all year. James's eyes caught his with a moment of recognition, before hastily getting up. "Pads, where have you been?"
His tone was jovial, but the crease between his eyebrows suggested that James was something more than just pleased to see his best friend right now. With an almost exaggerated air, the Potter boy led him out of the common room and into the dorms. Frantically, he gestured. "Sirius, answer me. We're not stupid, you've gone completely nuts in the span of a few hours."
Sirius stuck his hands in his pockets, letting out a low whistle. "Just busy, James. You know how it is."
"I don't, Sirius. I don't. And don't give me that bullshit about hooking up, Pads, why're you so afraid of us all of a sudden?"
"I'm not afraid of you—" Sirius fumbled through the sentence, "I . . . just need some time."
"Why?" James, for once, seemed uncertain. Worry was etched across his face as he repeated the question, at a loss for other words while his tone softened from the harsh questioning before, "Sirius, why? You act all weird every time Jo tries to speak to you and maybe she doesn't act like she notices but she does."
