Summary: Sirius Black surely doesn't get feelings for girls. I mean, they're just good for a shag right? A look at the inner workings of Sirius' mind before, during and after Remus' challenge. If you haven't read "The Mating of the Wersh" it is highly recommended that you do.

This is part one of three for this fic.

Wonderful beta fuegodealmas, thank you!

I only own Gwen Prewett.


Sirius Black was irresistible to women. It was one of his natural talents, as he would often tell his fellow Marauders. The girls at Hogwarts, yes, even some Slytherins, blushed furiously if he glanced in their direction, and if he winked? Well, he didn't get the nickname 'Knicker Basket' at random.

Here he was in his seventh year, under a challenge by Remus Lupin not to snog, frisk, or shag a girl until Prongs got his act together and Lily Evans fell madly in love with him or some nonsense. Really, he did it because he felt that James needed a vote of confidence, though every passing day meant that he had gone another day without so much as a touch from the opposite sex.

It was really quite unfortunate as he was hoping to leave some kind of lasting impression among Hogwarts' female population. There were a few Ravenclaws who would give rather suggestive glances to him during classes, but he didn't seem to notice them.

Sirius was distracted by one Gwen Prewett. He was mystified and drawn to her by the fact that she wouldn't even think to give him the time of day. He'd give her a charming grin while passing through the hallways, but her eyes would always face straight ahead, not even acknowledging that he was there. Sometimes, if he was lucky, she would purse her lips, but that was rare.

He liked attention. He did, and knowing that one girl didn't give him attention made him uneasy. Maybe it was the fact that he had gone two days, seventeen hours and fifteen minutes since his last snog, but the added fact that Gwen wasn't at all taken by his charms unnerved him.

He didn't know what it was about him that put her off. Gwen got along well with Remus, and he remembered that she would occasionally interrupt their prank planning sessions for homework help. Peter managed to make her grin occasionally. James had several conversations with her about Quidditch. Sirius remained the only Marauder whose interaction with Gwen was limited to "Would you pass the pumpkin juice?"

Sirius knew that he wasn't put off by her. By his standards, ("What standards, Padfoot?" James would often joke), he ranked her quite high in the looks department, petite, nice legs, and mischievous eyes (at least until he spoke to her, they would then become cold and steely). The only thing that separated her from the other girls he had shagged was that she was a ginger, and perhaps she wasn't as busty as the blondes he normally went for. Nor, he admitted, nearly as stupid.

It was far more difficult to impress her with any sort of turn of phrase. It was irritating him now. Her less than enthused responses drove him mad. He didn't know why he even bothered with her, but something nagged at him to keep trying. He decided to try an entirely different tactic. Hers.

It seemed to work. She spoke to him first when he joined her in the library, though they were less than friendly words. Successive nights in the library, he found himself studying Gwen more than his Muggle Studies.

From the moment he saw her in the morning till before he went to bed (though the latter was far less innocent), Gwen Prewett was the only thing he thought about. He didn't understand it. Never before in his history with what Remus called 'the gentler sex' did he think of a girl this often, or in this way for that matter. Normally, it was The Colonel who did all the thinking.

He was almost disgusted with himself, and tried to move on, to find a new prospect for after the challenge. But, thanks to Gideon and Fabian, oddly enough, he found himself sitting next to her at the Three Broomsticks.

"God." She muttered under breath. She was looking at Dorcas who was batting her eyelashes at Gideon. "Hex me if I ever do that for a bloke."

"What was that?" Sirius couldn't help but smirk at the comment. "I think you'd rather hex yourself before doing something like that, Gwen."

"You know, Sirius, I think you're right." She replied. "Especially if it's you."

Sirius was surprised, not by what she said, but by the fact that there was amusement in her voice. Or perhaps he was just deranged by his fancy for her and imagined it.

"That hurts Gwen, right here." He said, his hand on his chest.

"Surprised it didn't bounce off of your enormously large ego." Gwen smirked.

"Shot number two." Sirius replied dramatically. "You're so cutting with your words, and your sarcasm."

"I wasn't being sarcastic." She deadpanned. She glanced over at Cassandra, and tried to eavesdrop into her conversation with Fabian. "She has no idea what he's talking about."

Sirius looked over at Cassandra who was nodding vehemently at Fabian's explanation of a particularly difficult curse. "You're so kind to your friends, Gwen." Gwen looked affronted at this. "I'm just saying, I've observed that."

"I-Its...it's only because they fancy my brothers." She sputtered. "It's...odd. One would have to be truly mad. And I am kind to my friends, Sirius."

He decided not to do any more personal attacks, at least for his safety. The table eventually got into a heated, and amusing, debate over England's languishing Quidditch team. The amusing bit came when Dorcas or Cassandra decided that they wanted to sound smart for their respective twin of choice. Gwen, at least, Sirius noted, knew what she was talking about when it came to Quidditch. And she could formulate her thoughts into quite intelligent arguments. It should have hurt his "enormously large ego" that she beat him several times with points that he couldn't argue, but for some reason it didn't.