Ohmaigahd… THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING! No, seriously. I love you all. I actually do. You didn't even see my happy dance when I opened my e-mail this morning, but it was pretty impressive. No, seriously. I actually did a little happy dance. So, this is for all of you who've reviewed again and again – (*sepulchral voice* you know who you are…) 'cause I know how you hate cliffies…
One more after this… TT^TT
I'm going to miss it. I really am. I shall have to write fluff to fill the void.
*kills tangent*
Enjoy :)

Why can't you see/that I'm starving for your love and I/need attention/or I'm gonna die?
–Tokio Hotel, Attention

Fifth year
May 19th

Well, he'd followed me. Which was a serious improvement on the flat refusal I thoroughly deserved. In fact, I was a bit too wrapped up in my little achievement – to the point that when he'd sat down opposite me, face guarded and wary, not giving anything away, I had absolutely no idea what to say to him. I couldn't believe how different he'd looked since my little revelation. Obviously, all that had changed was the way I was seeing him, but it was still a lot to get my head around. The way he'd always seemed to be made of a million and one different shades of gold had never been more than a passing curiosity before; now it was something I could have stared at for hours.

Well, I could hardly put it off any longer. I'd been sitting there with my mouth open in an unattractively fishy way, trying to find the words, for at least twice as long as is socially acceptable. I cleared my throat nervously. He looked at me like a condemned man waiting for the axe to drop, in a way that made me want to fling my arms around him and never let go. I'd known, really, when he'd walked away earlier, that I was never going to be able to just let him go. But, I reminded myself, I'd be lucky if he didn't shoot me down, after how I'd behaved.

'I, er, guess I'd better start with an apology.'

He'd opened his mouth, but I cut him off. 'I hadn't finished, Moon. So, um, I'm sorry. Really, really sorry, for screwing you over all those times.' Ugh, no, that sounded dirty, not at all what I was going for… Bloody hell, apologising is difficult, 'And…' come on, keep it together, all we need is a coherent sentence here, 'I think I'll be taking your advice about growing a pair and–'

The tiniest spark of hope flickered into being, somewhere behind his eyes. 'So–'

'Stop interrupting me!' I rolled my eyes, offering a smile that somehow managed to be sheepish and rueful and physically painful all at once (Well, you try to be simultaneously sheepish and rueful. Until then, I'd never even realised that cheek cramps were even possible). 'Anyway, I've been doing some thinking…'

He raised an eyebrow, but the blasé front did nothing to hide the fact that the poor boy's nerves were stretched tighter than a bowstring. 'Sirius Black, thinking? Something must be wrong.' He swallowed nervously, and I felt like someone had literally yanked a string tight around something in the middle of my chest. Well, that was interesting. I'd always thought of it as a pretty metaphor; I'd never really considered the idea that it really felt like that.

'Not… wrong, I wouldn't say. But something pretty major.'

Oh, Gods. He was holding his breath, bless him. He was actually holding his breath. It was quite literally all I could do not to throw myself at him then and there. It wasn't really helping that I could hardly breathe through all the unsaid stuff floating around.

'Anyway,' I continued. Self-restraint, self-restraint. 'You know the other day, when we were in the common room?'

'We spend a lot of time in the common room, Pad. You're going to need to be slightly more specific than that…' His voice caught very slightly. Oh, Gods. Now, that was getting perilously close to the line between you're-so-sweet-I'm-in-danger-of-entering-a-diabetic-coma and plain old sexy. He was still carefully neutral, so cautious – Although I couldn't have said I blamed him.

'You know, right after James'n'Lily got together? When we were trying to work out why it bothered us so much.'

'Oh, then. Got you.'

(Got me? If only you knew, Moon. If only you knew.)

My mouth was suddenly very dry. Was I… nervous? That was just plain wrong. 'Yeah, then. And I sort of… realised something.'

Sometime, I'm not sure when, we'd both stood up. We were so painfully close, my arms quite literally ached from the effort of keeping my hands to myself.

'And what was that?' he whispered, returning my gaze steadily. Gods, he was beautiful. Flawless, even, and all the more so because he didn't know it. I was suddenly reminded of the first time I'd laid eyes on him – a slight, pretty tawny boy, with big, fearful eyes. They were still the first thing you noticed about him – molten-caramel-coloured, with ridiculously long eyelashes for a boy. Outside, the sun sidled out from behind a cloud, gleaming softly on his hair. I squashed the sudden urge to run my fingers through it.

'I… I think…'

'Go on.'

Now or never, now or never. Jesus, how do people do this? It's terrifying. 'I think I–'

–I think I should try harder to finish my sentences in future. That one, for instance, got cut off. Before I even knew what happened, he'd kissed me, which sort of wiped my brain. It was a desperate, clumsy, bruising kiss, but it didn't matter – all that mattered was that it was him. His hands tangled in my hair, his heart beating too-fast against mine. Oh, Gods, did I really just say that? Shoot me, somebody, please.

When I finally pulled away to breathe, I was riding a huge wave of adrenaline. I wanted to laugh like a maniac, run around and around in circles, yell at the top of my lungs that he was mine all mine. Why in the name of Merlin's balls had I not done this sooner? The fact that it had seemed so terrifying, so wrong before now looked utterly ridiculous. Funny what realising you love someone to the point of distraction can do.

Thinking that obeying the instinct to act like hyperactive five-year-old could have been construed as slightly mentally unstable at best, I settled instead for saying, 'You sure? Really? After… er, everything?'

No! What?! Don't mind me, I'll just go right ahead and deconstruct my own argument.

He snorted. 'Well, despite the fact that you're a real dick when you're trying to figure yourself out, I've been praying for this to happen for years. So, yes, while you are eventually going to be the death of me one way or another – I'm sure.'

He dropped his head forwards to rest his forehead against mine, not moving away. This was… this was almost too easy. He was just the right height and everything. But one thing he'd said stood out against the crushing flood of dizzy, heady relief – for years.

'For years? Really?'

A wry little chuckle, deep in the back of his throat. Gods, he really was trying to kill me after all. There was no other explanation.

'Since I was about twelve, Pad.'

'Seriously?! And you never said anything?!'


Wow. Mind sufficiently blown for the day, thanks.

'Well,' he added, justifying, 'What would have done if I had said something? You hardly encouraged me to think it'd go over well.'

'Mm, fair enough. I s'pose.' I nudged playfully against him, making him look at me. 'Well, doesn't matter now, does it?'

'No,' he agreed, looking into my eyes in a way that I was fairly sure was slowly frying my brain. 'It doesn't.' He shook his head, on the verge of laughing. 'I don't believe this. I mean, it's you.'

I didn't quite know what to make of that – deathly insult or sincere compliment? Realistically, I decided to assume that being me wasn't a good thing. I groaned. 'Merlin's balls, don't even get me started on what an appalling human being I am...'

He smiled a razor-sharp smile. 'Well, if you're going to be torturing yourself over that, I guess I don't need to.'

Just for that, for that little reminder that he was still Moony, only mine, I leant back in to kiss him again, but this time, the instant we touched something just… connected.

We both reeled backwards with stereo shocked, choking noises.

Because, all of a sudden, that inexplicable gap in my memory had been filled in.

'You too?' he asked, voice and eyes equally, unhelpfully fathomless.

'Oh, yeah.'

'We… we didn't, did we?'

He now looked torn between horror and hysterical amusement.

'I think we did…'

'But why didn't we…?'

'…Remember?' Even in the middle of my little lightbulb moment, part of me was exulting in the fact that he'd just finished my fucking sentence. 'James and Peter,' he announced, eyes narrowing. 'Must've been. I thought they were acting funny…'

He stepped back, looking practically menacing (by which I mean sexy). 'When I get my hands on those two…'

'You hold 'em down, I'll hex 'em.'


We shook on it.

And, yes, alright, it was a weird ending to the only properly (ugh, cringe. Was I going to be like this from now on? If so, save yourselves and just kill me now, please)… romantic moment we'd ever had. But then again, this was us – God forbid that we should ever just be a normal couple. And maybe that was just what I needed.

So, er, what did you think? I'm still kind of new at this whole romance-writing thing... .