The finest chocolate from Honeydukes. Red envelopes. Muggle vinyl records.
Yes, every year, Sirius Black was showered with gifts by his many admirers. And, every year, each one of these admirers would be disappointed to see Sirius leave the large pile of gifts completely untouched.
This year was no different.
Into the Great Hall he walked, effortlessly graceful as usual.
Only this time, he sat next to a tall boy who was already sat at the Gryffindor table, a textbook open in front of him. This boy had none of the grace, elegance or sheer beauty that Sirius exuded from every pore. No, in contrast to Sirius Black, Remus Lupin was quite ordinary.
Remus went unnoticed by the school. Where Sirius had his many admirers, Remus had none.
And, as these admirers watched in shocked silence, Sirius placed a red envelope on top of the textbook. They saw a look in Sirius’s eyes that they all hoped to see directed to themselves: one of unadulterated love, affection and adoration.
Yes, Sirius Black had many admirers. But he didn’t care for them.
He had always and would always only have eyes for one person: Remus Lupin, the one boy that no one noticed, but who filled Sirius’s every waking thought.