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The pain is a dull thrum in your shoulders, a sharp twinge in your knees when you stand too quickly. It's bearable—just enough to make you wince, not enough to keep you confined to the house any longer. Especially not when James suggests brunch out on the town and Sirius offers to clear away the clouds with a flick of his wand.
You can't remember the last time you've walked this far, but neither of them seem to mind your slower pace. James offers his arm when the cobblestones become uneven, and Sirius snaps at pebbles like a deranged wolf, making you laugh despite yourself.
The café is nestled between two larger buildings, its façade an inviting blend of warm colours and large windows that let in an abundance of natural light. The door is heavy, crafted from timeworn oak that creaks in the most charming way when pushed open. You reach for it out of habit, forgetting for a moment that you're not alone.
Sirius beats you to it, his hand closing over the handle before you can touch it.
"Ah-ah." He swings the door open with a flourish and a bow so deep it's almost comical. “Don’t even think about it, love.”
You raise an eyebrow at him. "I'm perfectly capable of opening a door, Sirius."
"Indeed," he replies, his lips curving into a boyish grin that belies the gravity of his voice. "But then I wouldn't get to feel all smug about it."
James appears at your other side, looping an arm around your waist as if you're a ship he's guiding into port. "He's been planning that all morning," James confides, his hazel eyes sparkling with amusement. "Said something about 'exemplifying the perfect boyfriend role.' I didn't ask for specifics."
Sirius remains behind you, holding open the door with a flourish, as though he's just performed a feat worthy of Merlin himself. "That's one point for me, then."
"And one for me," James chimes in, pulling out a chair at the table by the window—the one with the best view and most comfortable seat, exactly how you like it. His smile is warm, infectious. “Look at that. Coordinated domestic brilliance.”
You roll your eyes at their theatrics, but the warmth in your chest has nothing to do with the tea you're about to drink. "You two do realise I'm not a princess, right?"
"Clearly you've got it wrong," Sirius says, pulling out a chair for James who's returned with the food, because of course he does. "You're the knight. We're the spoiled royal children."
James plants a soft kiss on your forehead as you sit down. "Spoiled and utterly devoted."
You sink into the chair, your body gratefully accepting the cushioned relief without having to pay immediately in pain. "I don't need pampering."
"We know," Sirius's voice is soft, almost too quiet to hear over the bustling café, but his hand finds yours across the table, fingers cool and grounding. "Consider it not pampering, but... caring."
James's hand covers both of yours, his thumb tracing soothing circles. "And let us have our fun. It's not often we get to play the gallant fools."
A chuckle escapes you despite yourself. "You're always fools."
Sirius grins widely, and James's laugh is loud enough that the people at the next table glance over.
And when the tea arrives, steaming and fragrant, you don't have to reach for the cup once.