If you had asked Sirius Black when exactly it was that he had fallen in love with Emilia Simmons, he'd have looked at you for a minute, and then shouted out for the whole Gryffindor Common Room to hear that you'd gone barmy. If you'd asked Miss Simmons the same question, you may find yourself on your arse somewhere in Timbuktu. Because you see, neither were quite sure. Nor were they willing to admit that they were enemies-turned-friends, because seriously, who does that?
Perhaps, Sirius mused one night during detention, it was that day he'd boarded the Hogwarts Express in first year, and a little girl with the brightest blue eyes and the shiniest brown hair had skipped past him merrily, laughing like she'd just heard the best joke in the world. Or maybe it was that night in sixth year, the day of the Christmas ball, and Moony had come rushing down the staircase smiling like an idiot, followed by that same girl with the brightest blue eyes and shiniest brown hair.
Or, just maybe, it was the day she'd come back to school crying her pretty eyes out, with her hair cropped short messily and covered with mud and a group of Slytherins laughing behind her. And her dirty little face had peered up at him, her delicious lips stumbling apologies, and he'd thought, oh god, she's never looked more beautiful. Because she hadn't.
And the night Remus came back to the dorms, grinning the same way he had the day of the ball and telling them all, James, Sirius and Pete, that he'd finally kissed Emilia Simmons. And he'd never felt so jealous.
Perhaps, even, it was the way that even after so many years of him using lines on her that had had many a woman melting to a pool of goo at his feet, she still screamed and shouted that she hated him.
Hated him.
And every time, it had him hurting, because, oh god, they'd be so perfect together if she could only see it.
Maybe, he speculated a couple of years later at a rundown little pub in Godric's Hollow, it was just the way she was just... her. The way her scent, roses and peppermint, was still stained on his sheets, no matter how hard he'd tried to get it out. The sweet little kisses she'd allowed in the broom closets back at Hogwarts and the hungry, lustful ones she'd initiated years later. The ones that had always left him wanting more.
Or maybe, just maybe, he thought a mere year and a half later as he looked down at the little bundle of blankets in her arms, it was because of the little black haired, blue eyed girl. Little Vega Black.
A/N: It is shit, yes I know this. But I am bored. So yeah. *singsong voice* REVIEW!