Disclaimer: if I'd written Harry Potter, they wouldn't be bestsellers
I honestly don't know why I kissed him. Other than the fact that I loved him like no boy should ever love his best mate - male best mate. But I had done for a year or more at this stage so that was no excuse for slamming him up against a wall one night and kissing him fiercely, holding his face and touching his chest as he remained totally unresponsive. He may as well have been unconscious.
Until he pushed me away roughly and started roaring at me.
'What the fuck was that Sirius?'
I looked away, trying to calm my breathing and divert my blood flow from one particular part of my body that was getting embarrassing.
'I mean, we were just there, talking and shit and then you push me against a bloody wall and start groping me? What the fuck?'
I couldn't answer him. There was no answer. So I ran from him, transforming into the dog as I went so that I wouldn't be able to concentrate on such complex thoughts as these. As Padfoot I pelted through the streets of Hogsmeade until I reached the Shrieking Shack. There I transformed back and, sitting on the fence outside the old house, cried for hours.
Right well, so much for not being able to write unrequited love. If you have a heart, review. If you keep yourself alive out of spite alone (sorry) then…don't, I suppose.
