Sirius Black did not like her.
He didn't like her when she was sorted into his house and squeezed onto the bench next to him, smiling proudly. He didn't like her when he had to rescue her from the Fat Lady because she couldn't remember the password. He didn't like her when she asked him to help her with her transfiguration essays.
He didn't like her when she sat next to someone else in second year charms. He didn't like her when she tried out for the Quidditch team and gave the other teams something to worry about. He didn't like her when she hugged him when they won the Quidditch cup.
He didn't like her when she started giggling over boys, and he especially didn't like her when she whispered because then he couldn't hear. He didn't like her when she wore tighter jeans on weekends. He didn't like her when she loved the same music as he did and wandered around singing it. He didn't like her when she got her first boyfriend, and he definitely didn't get an ache in his heart when he saw them holding hands in the corridor.
He didn't like her when her heart was broken, and he didn't die inside every time he heard her complain about the lack of nice boys in the school. He didn't like her when she started flirting with James and he didn't like her when she started talking to him more and more.
He didn't like her when she discovered makeup and he didn't like her when she pressed slightly closer to him when a group of them went to look at the Shrieking Shack. He didn't like her when they left Hogwarts and she worked down the road from him. He didn't like her when they started meeting for lunch, and he didn't like her when she started talking about her latest boyfriend. He didn't like her when she referred to him as her best friend, and he didn't like her when she got engaged. He really didn't like her at her wedding.
He had to rely on Moony to get him through the service, and he had to pinch himself because he wasn't crying. At the reception he hugged her, faked a smile and shook the groom's hand. He left early, dragging Moony to a bar, then a club, then another. He downed drink after shot after drink, trying to forget about how much he didn't like her. Eventually he pulled Moony closer, kissing him frantically, protesting when his friend pushed him away.
"I'm not her."
Then he did cry. He cried, because he did like her. Had always liked her. Couldn't imagine stopping liking her. Then he went home before he did more things he would regret in the morning.
Fin