A/N: Found this when I logged onto my old Fiction Alley account and I thought it was good, so yeah. I went over it and changed it here and there, to make it slightly better than before. Enjoy your read. Oh and yeah, the title suckssss because I'm lame like that.

As I slowly opened my eyes, blinking at the bright square of light that had stirred my sleep, I felt something move drowsily next to me; mumbling and moaning a bit as it did so. Slowly forcing my body out of its slumber, I sat up, leaning slightly against the bed frame. Too tired to get up and pull the curtains over the window, I faced away from the glaring sun and looked down at the snoozing creature next to me, steadily holding on to my arm in its sleep. The dark, long hair was one big mess around its head, and the face was buried somewhere in the depths of the pillow.

I stared at him for a long while, breathing in every aspect of this very odd moment. Though I could clearly see his body rising and falling underneath the covers and feel the warmth emanating from his body, I couldn't believe any of it was real. The situation was so absurd, so completely improbable that I simply couldn't accept it as the truth. Everything had happened so fast that I actually found it hard to recall what had happened. The last few days, I'd had few opportunities to stop and think, to take in all the terrible and beautiful events that had taken place lately.

Lying there in bed, I carefully faltered to try to grasp the situation I had ended up in. It wasn't very easy, I might add.

How had I ended up here, back in this very same moment I had been in so many times before, but so very long ago? I considered the possibility of it all being a dream, but the weight of the body next to me upon the bed contradicted that theory. Dreams where weightless, weren't they? Surely, a dream was not warm with blood pumping beneath its skin; a dream did not breath with that slight whistle which you could hear if you only listened close enough.

Mixed feelings of anxiety and unbelievable happiness bubbled inside of me. For some reason I had a very strong urge to burst out in tears. I guess didn't know quite what to make of it all.

Was this it; was this the wind changing for me? Was it my turn this time to get a chance at happiness? And if so, was I going to take it? Could I handle it? All the years of solitude – were they coming to an end? I imagined it and the scene looked so beautiful in my mind. Finally brought back together with the love of my life and, this time around, nothing would hinder us from being together.

Of course, it wasn't that easy. It could never be that easy; there would always be so many things in the way. Perhaps that's why I was so afraid to believe he was really back; because I was afraid to lose him again, afraid that he would leave me heartbroken and scarred once more. I was painfully aware of how frail the years had made me, and a defeat like that would certainly have been the end of me.

As I laid there, I glanced back at that night when it all came crashing down against me – that confusing and terrifying and blissful night – and I couldn't help myself thinking that it was all strangely beautiful.

I remembered the illuminating feeling of realization upon seeing his name on the map; the cold sweat breaking out as I ran for the Whomping Willow; the warm feeling of anxiety in my stomach and the pounding of my weak heart as I entered the Shack. Most of all I remembered seeing him, for the first time in so many years, and how unprepared I was to see what I saw.

He looked horrible; dirt everywhere, and his once so smooth hair now tangled and torn, his emaciated face, the glimpse of madness in his dark eyes and the prison clothes hanging of his bony body like they had been handed down to him from someone twice his size. I remembered the expression on his face changing when he first caught sight of me, from furious to shock to relieved. For a second I had been certain that he was going to hex me with his stolen wand, expecting someone else, but then relief streamed over his face and he took me into his arms in such a warm embrace.

He was moving now, rubbing his face against the pillow and letting out small sounds of tiredness. I placed a hand on his head and gently stroked his hair. Slowly opening his eyes, he looked up at me, glimpsing over the pillow with weary eyes, mumbling what must've been a Good morning. We looked at each other for a couple of seconds, quiet and still.

How I had missed those eyes. So many tears had I spilled over my longing for this man.

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked in a hoarse voice.

I nodded; I couldn't bear to speak.

You're not supposed to be here, I thought to myself, still trying to fathom the fact that he lay beside me. A warmth spread across my heart as he huddled up in my arms, laying one arm around my waist and glancing up at me. As I touched the skin on his shoulder with my fingertips, I thought again about how incredibly improbable this all was. You broke out of Azkaban, for Merlin's sake. No one has ever done that. Ever. But you did.

Part of me wanted to believe that the reason he got out of that horrid place when no one else had ever been able to, was because he was driven by his love for me – I wanted to believe that it helped him bear through the endless nights and days in that hell of a place. Another part of me was just happy he was back, no matter how or why he had done it. The important thing was that he was here now – nothing beside that seemed to matter. I found it hard to grasp that outside of the walls of that bedroom, a whole world was turning, without any regard to the moment taking place inside these four walls. How could the world not see; how could it move on like nothing had happened?

To me – in this moment – this was everything.

He was everything.

"Moony?" he said, his eyes closed and his head against my stomach.

"Yes?"

"Do these things really happen – I mean in real life?"

I didn't answer. What was life? And what was real? And did it all even matter – as long as I was happy?

I closed my eyes and looked deep into my own chest. Feelings swam around in there like shoals of fish. Relief – finally knowing for certain that he was innocent, and that he was alive. Anxiety – what happens now? Were they going to lock him up again soon? Nervousness, because so much time had passed – how would we deal with all the time that we had lost? Affection and warmth – I had missed him so much. To finally see him again was more wonderful than anything I could ever have imagined.

But happiness?

I had to search deeper for that. Because there was so much else clouding my mind and my heart, the feeling of just being happy had crept deeper into me, gone into hiding for the moment. But I lured it out, and it was blissful.

As I once more opened my eyes, he was watching me. I smiled at him. I couldn't help myself.

He sat up next to mean and leaned in to place a kiss upon my mouth. We were still both a bit shy – after all we had only just met again after twelve years apart. But if I knew anything about Sirius, it was that with him, things would soon begin to feel right again, as if nothing had changed … our at least I hoped it would still be that way.

I silently thought to myself that if we just let time take its toll, the feelings in me and everything going on around us would soon calm down. I worry too much, as he had told me so many times when we were younger. Though everything that had taken place during those twelve years still ached in me sometimes, I could finally see an end to it now. I saw him as my savior; the one to finally and permanently bring me out of my misery.

"I've really missed you," he said calmly. I looked at him, smiling still, and then put my lips to his forehead, gently whispering, "I wish we could freeze this moment and stay here forever."

I threw a quick glance out the window. Different winds were blowing out there than in here, and the world remained oblivious of the tender emotions that were encircling the two of us just then. The sun was still shining; but it was no longer mocking me. It shone with a sweeter light now, like a promise of hope and of – dared I even think it – just being happy.

I smiled and kissed his forehead one more time.

"I'm so glad you're finally back," I said.

I could feel his lips against my naked shoulder, as he silently replied in a weak voice, "And I'm never leaving you again."