She says goodbye to her friends, careful to not look too far around the Entrance Hall before she makes her way back up to Gryffindor Tower. The trek is slow in a dawdling kind of way—because Lily Evans has nowhere to be presently.

When she clambers through the portrait hole, she gives the room a brief survey, though she does not expect to find many students older than Second Years as the rest are likely all headed to Hogsmeade. She is surprised to find another Sixth Year still in the tower, lounging in the best armchair near the empty fireplace.

“Evans,” he greets when she draws closer.

She sighs before perching herself on the armchair across from his. “Black.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t know where else to go,” she answers with a shrug. To save from elaborating further, she turns the question back around to him. “Why aren’t you down in Hogsmeade?”

“Lost its charm.”

“Oh really?”

“When you can go there whenever you’d like, the idea of fighting through crowds of overexcited Third and Fourth Years loses its appeal very quickly.”

She nods slowly. “Where are your other brain cells?” She pretends she does not already know the answer to the whereabouts of one particular brain cells as Sirius grins at her.

“Infirmary, detention, date,” says Sirius, ticking off a finger with each word. “But… something tells me you already knew about the last one.”

Heat travels from her chest upward at these words, and Sirius’ knowing grin only grows. “I don’t know what you mean.”