A/N: Okay, peoples, this is my one-shot for ringing in the New Years! It's a SiriLu, and sweet, and I love it to death. I hope you like it. (:

Title: The Best New Year's Treat Ever

Full Summary: Sirius an Remus are rummaging in some old, broken down boxes, when they come across a long-forgotten scrapbook. In it, are hundreds of pictures. From past summers, Christmas parties, and unwanted Birthday parties. As they are laughing at old photographs, they come across one they didn't know even existed. It was taken at the New Year's Party of '80 . . . . .

S/N: (Story Note) Harry never became chosen one, Sirius never went to Azkaban. So, that explains some story points.

(*)

"Oi! Sirius, come here!" Remus calls. Obediently, I pad over to my boyfriend of two, faithful years. I plop down on the floor next to him, as he pulls himself upright out of a fairly large cardboard box. I Reached up and scare him by snaking my arms 'round his waist and dragging him down to my lap. "Yes, my fair darling?" I coo, and just laughs. "What?"

He shakes his head, replying, "Never mind; nothing important. What is is this large, leather-bound book I found digging through this dust." Now it's my turn to laugh. Remus doesn't realize he's actually kind of funny. I mean, I'm sure there's not that much dust in the box.

"But when is there a time that a large, leather-bound tome doesn't interest my dear Moony?"

He shrugs. "But this just seems, I dunno, different." And as soon as he cracks it open, I know he's right; for this is no ordinary book, it's a scrapbook. An old one, from the length of my hair. I mean, really, it's longer now.

"It is, Moony. Look, they're pictures. An old ones. They're from just after Hogwarts. Look, here's the one from my surprise party . . ." And Remus finishes the flashback for me.

"Yeah, and you completely destroyed the decorations, and made the whole thing uncomfortable, just sitting in the corner, grinning like a man locked in Azkaban." I shuddred. I somehow knew the feeling of it; like I lived Azkaban in another life.

"Well, I admit to being a little high that day, and I was probably suffering from insomnia . . ."

I would've rambled on, but Remus held up a hand. "Okay, enough excuses." He flipped the page, and on it was the picture taken at Harry's second Christmas, where he tore open all his gifts using MY wand. James was holding him, as he was squirming around. Lily was too his right, and Remus was too James' left. I was behind them all, giving Remus and Lily bunny ears, while giving the camera a wicked smile. Then, Lily and Remus would turn around to me and scold me, while James would fight with Harry.

"I remember that." Remus said, and I nodded, and moved him around a little on my lap. I switched my attention to the next picture, which was of Remus, on his birthday, and he's just shocked as the camera flashes his picture, all it does is blink over and over. "And that. Really, you didn't need to." Underneath it was a caption, saying, 1979. And that was all.

I flip the next page, and on it is a very humorous scene. I'm dragging Remus to the pond at the Potters, and James is hovering over Lily, trying to tug her over in front of the lense. She's shaking her head, refusing to go, and Remus is trying to resist, but I'm too strong. I recognize this as the summer just after Hogwarts.

"You know, this was a pretty hectic day."

I shake my head in disagreement. "No, it was relaxed. The hectic day was the summer after." Remus just shrugs. It doesn't really matter to him.

The next page shows a rather stupid picture, I have my arm around Remus, and a burger in the other. Remus just seems to radiated embarrassment as I bite into my burger. "That was taken out in the country. At one of those random burger joints. Remember? That was the road trip in 1978; we asserted out independence all over England." Remus nods eagerly in my arms.

And this is how we pass hours as we wait for James' party; flippin' through photos of us, laughing and crying, cheering and booing. Then we stumble over one-one that had no idea existed. It's a picture of Remus on my shoulders, and I'm cheering, and screaming inaudible shouts of joy. Remus seems elated, as he quietly stares off into nowhere, a dreamy look sprawled across his adorable features.

"I remember that," Remus whispers, almost too quiet to hear. "It was in 1980. The New Years party at the Potters. The one where I . . ." But I cover his mouth, deciding it's my turn to tell a tale; spin a story web that will keep him captivated.

"Let me," I say, and I clear my throat, and begin by saying, "It was any-other New Years party at the start. Just a day after I tried to get you to date me, again." I add emphasis on the word, and feel him slump in my lap. "But, being the good, nice guy I am, I didn't hold it against you when you declined. I merely looked at it as an opportunity to try again. Then, you wouldn't even admit your feelings for me. Anyway, we were partying, and having fun, and getting sloshed on Fire Whisky and Muggle liquor."

Remus interrupted me. "Um, I had Butterbeer."

I roll my eyes, even though he can't see me, and I add, "And boring ol' Remus wouldn't try anything but the same Butterbeer. Back to the mainstream flow. I was bugging you, of course, trying to find a way to get you to drink."

"Yeah," Remus interjected. "To try and con me into admitting my feelings!"

I nod. "Yes, but you wouldn't budge. So, I gave up, and I go and party with James. He would have been with Lily, but she was nursing baby Harry, and couldn't quite be in a public place. But you watched as James and I danced, and you got jealous."

"Nu-uh!" Remus heatedly inserts.

I wave it off, by mentioning, "Don't worry; Lily got jealous too. After the party, she scolded me for slow-dancing with her hubby. No need to defend yourself, Remus.

He turns in my arms, spewing, "I. Was. Not. Jealous." I raise my hands in defeat.

"Okay, okay, whatever the high-and-mighty Moony declares. Anyway, I need to finish my story. So, you came up to, three minuets before the New Year, mind you, and you say . . ."

I leave off, hoping Remus'll know it's his cue to take over. "I say," He begins. "Padfoot. You turn to me, and say,"

"Yesh, Moonshie?" I chuckle, because that night I had been so hosed I was running my words together.

"I stutter my words, spitting out finally, I . . . I have . . . Som . . Something to tell you."

I pick up the story from here. But, before I begin, I stand, and pull Remus with me, and grab his hands the way I did on that New Years night. "Two minuets before the New Year. Everybody turns to the huge clock James conjured up, and the music stops, and starts a slow song, and I begin to twirl us around." I spun around in slow circles, maneuvering around many-a-box. "I respond by sayin, 'Whas shat, Moonshie?"

Remus slowly stops us. "One and a half minuets left. I stutter out, 'Sirius . . . I . . . I . . . I really like you Sirius. I've just been turning you down because . . . Because. . ."

I interject, just like I did that magnificent night. "I lean in close. Forty-five seconds left. I say, "Moonsh, it doesn't matter too me. You finally caved in. And just as the people began to count down from twenty, I leaned in closer," And I do, I lean in, so close, I can feel his shaky breath on my lips. "And say, 'Are you sure, Moonsh?"

I leave off, and wait for his response His quick, shake if his head is all I need. I lean in, and kiss him softly, ending it by saying, "One." As if ending the old year. And, just after I say it, I hear the tell-tale chimes of Big Ben, and listen as he dongs twelve times. We were right on cue with the story. "Wow," I say in a mystified voice. "Amazing."

Remus nods, face slightly flushed, and spouts, "What about James? And his party?"

I shrug. "Who cares. I have a better idea."

"What's that?"

"This." Is all I say, and I lead him back to our cozy bedroom.

A/N: Scene! So, did you like? Was it fluffy enough. Was it cute? Was it perfect? Because I like this one-shot in particular. So, let me know what you thought of it. Please?