"I rather like your freckles, actually," Sirius tells him, giving him a bright grin. "You know what it was? I had the thought that I wanted to connect them all like constellations, and then you asked what I was looking at you for—" He clears his throat and pitches his voice higher. "What are you looking at, posh boy? So rude. And you were scowling. Thinking back, it was really cute, but what was I meant to say? Can I draw on your freckles? I did not have the range of emotional maturity to say that at eleven, so I said they were stupid instead."