The Gryffindor common room was alive with the soft hum of laughter and crackling flames, the warm hues of the firelight dancing against the stone walls. It was a comforting chaos, with students huddled together, sharing tales of summer or strategizing for the term ahead. Amidst the cozy din, Sorrel sat cross-legged in a well-worn armchair near the fire, cradling Mr. Sheaf as he purred contentedly.

She had just opened her box of sugar quills, ready to indulge in her favorite treat, when Cleo's voice rang out.

"There you are, Goldie! You came before me!" Cleo strode in, her dark hair framing her face, exuding her usual effortless confidence. Her sharp eyes softened the moment they landed on Sorrel.

Sorrel's face lit up like a spell had been cast. "Cleo!" she chirped, holding out her arms in a dramatic gesture. "You've been gone for ages! Mr. Sheaf and I were beginning to feel abandoned."

Cleo rolled her eyes fondly and ruffled Sorrel's hair as she sat down beside her. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"Mm, but you love me anyway," Sorrel teased, leaning against Cleo like a contented cat, mirroring her tiny companion who was leaning against her.

Their banter was interrupted by an amused drawl. "Well, well. What do we have here? A pair of Gryffinpuff misfits? How does a Hufflepuff get in anyway?"

Sorrel turned to see Sirius Black lounging against the arm of a nearby couch, his dark hair framing his mischievous grin. Beside him, James Potter had his hands stuffed into his pockets, his glasses glinting in the firelight, while Peter Pettigrew trailed slightly behind, nibbling on a treacle tart he'd smuggled from dinner.

Cleo smirked. "Misfits? Takes one to know one, Black."

Sirius feigned offense. "I'm wounded."

James stepped forward, his grin wide and boyish. "Cleo's told us about you," he said, addressing Sorrel. "You're the one who reads to her cat, right?"

Sorrel blinked, then smiled brightly. "Hello, James Potter! Guilty as charged. Do you want to meet him? Mr. Sheaf, say hello!"

The pure white kitten looked up with mismatched eyes, before stretching languidly and hopping onto James's lap. James looked utterly delighted.

"Blimey, he's adorable!" James said, stroking the kitten's fur.

Sirius leaned closer, scrutinizing Mr. Sheaf. "He's got the same eyes as you," he noted, glancing at Sorrel.

"That's why we're a perfect match," Sorrel said airily. "Don't you think? It's like fate said, 'Here's a little friend just for you!'"

Sirius laughed, and even Peter chuckled softly, though his attention was mostly on his tart.

It was Remus, sitting quietly in a chair by the window, who finally spoke. "He seems very... content with you all." His voice was soft, laced with the kind of thoughtfulness that always made people lean in to listen.

Sorrel turned toward him, her expression softening. "Oh, he's a social little thing, just like me. But don't worry, I've got enough love to go around," she said, her voice light and airy.

Cleo snorted. "Careful, Lupin. She'll smother you if you're not careful."

"I will not," Sorrel protested, though her mock outrage was undercut by the teasing glint in her eyes. "I'll only smother you if you look like you need it. And sometimes, everyone does."

Remus couldn't help the small, shy smile that tugged at his lips.

As the evening wore on, the group's laughter grew louder, the stories wilder, and the room cozier. Sorrel listened intently to James's dramatic Quidditch tales, gasped in mock horror at Sirius's pranks, and giggled as Peter eagerly offered her a chocolate frog.

Through it all, she stayed close to Cleo, who alternated between rolling her eyes and smiling indulgently at her clingy friend.

When the night drew to a close, and the group began to disperse, Sirius leaned back in his chair, watching Sorrel fondly. "You're alright, you know that?"

"Only alright?" Sorrel replied, pretending to pout.

Sirius grinned. "Fine. You're brilliant."

Cleo ruffled Sorrel's hair again, her tone softer this time. "Told you they'd like you."

"I think they're growing on me," Sorrel said, her voice dreamy as her gaze drifted to the firelight.

And somewhere in the corner of the room, Remus Lupin found himself quietly agreeing.