A/N: Hi everyone! I'm in a bad mood, and I wanted to write something sad and angsty, and wolfstar, and feels-y.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the pure perfection that is Harry Potter, it all belongs to the most amazing woman on the planet, Britain's own, J.K. Rowling. (But I think if I looked into the Mirror of Erised that's what I'd see. (That being me as the next J.K, that is))

It was just… there.

And really, you couldn't expect him to just ignore it, now could you?

Please, Sirius Black was a Marauder.

Marauders don't ignore this such as this.

It was just a regular day, everyone out on Order missions, no one left in his dreary house except Kreacher, who hated him as much as he.

As he trudged down to the kitchen, his mind ran over the past week's occurrences. Dumbledore had been around recently, asking if he could keep something hidden in the basement of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Of course, he complied; he would gladly do whatever to be of any help to the Order. He never did mention what it was he hid, though.

Curiosity got the better of him. Breakfast could wait, couldn't it?

He retraced his last few steps, and took the left corridor instead of the right. Soon, he was in front of the door that lead him to his unused - as of late - basement.

Pushing past various cobwebs and nearly choking on thick dust motes, he lit his wand and saw it.

Standing upright, gleaming almost, was a tall, ornate mirror.

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi," He read out, the words inscribed on the top of the golden frame.

He stared into the reflection, and it broke his heart in two.

There he was, standing and laughing, James and Lily ruffling Harry's hair next to him, Remus the other side with his arms around his torso, grinning his stupid smile, all faces alight with such happiness.

Harry just rolled his eyes, much like Lily used to, when James kissed his wife sweetly on the cheek. Like it was normal, like he had spent his whole life with them raising him and doing just that.

Remus' chin was resting in the crook of his neck, his arms still around him, but was watching the real him with such intensity, his pale blue eyes looking as though they were peering right into his soul.

Behind the group was every member of the Order – past and present. Marlene and Tom McKinnon were there, Marlene winking like she did, Tom dipping his ratty old hat; Fabian and Gideon were off in the corner laughing as Molly seemed to be yelling at them; ol' Benjy Fenwick was saluting him, his wonky teeth jutting out in the same ridiculous way they always used to; Moody was trying to get everyone in order – seemed pointless, really –; Frank and Alice were hugging Neville, watching him with wonder in their eyes…

Sirius was torn. He wanted to run, run away as fast as he could, tell Dumbledore to take the horrid thing away, ask him what the hell he was thinking for putting such an evil object in his house, if he wanted to send him over the brink and into insanity –

But he also wanted to stay. It was intoxicating, drugging. The image before him was perfect. Everything that should still be, everything that shouldn't have happened, was right in front of him. And it hurt. Because that's all it was. An image. A beautiful - mind-numbingly beautiful image. He longed to walk through the slightly cracked and molded glass, through it and into the world where this image was a reality.

Where James and Lily got their happily ever after with Harry, because they deserved it, he deserved it.

Where Molly got to keep her beloved younger brothers for those extra years, so Fred, George, Ron and Ginny actually got to meet them.

Where Frank and Alice never lost their minds, even though they were hardly sane in the first place, they were so in love with each other.

A world where he and Remus could be together, were they could finally be happy.

A/N: I gave myself an owie... in here *points to heart and breaks down sobbing*