It was September 1st. Anticipation hung as thick in the air as the smoke that came from the scarlet engine that was going to lead the young girl to a new life. She flicked the long, bronze-tinted brown hair away from her eyes, and that's when it happened. Her deep, almost violet-blue eyes met with a pair of sterling silver eyes that were startlingly close. Her mouth opened, but she found that she couldn't speak. The young boy watched her, his gaze surprisingly intense as it smoldered into hers. He seemed to be urging her to say something. His hand rose slightly, but then dropped limply back to his side. He gave her one last burning look, almost desperate, like he was begging her to speak. But she simply couldn't get the words past her throat that was suddenly full of smoke. Those beautiful sterling eyes dropped to the concrete floor as he walked away. Suddenly, Amara felt strangely empty, like she'd lost something precious. Her gaze burned into his back, now as desperate as his gaze had been. Turn around, turn around, she mentally begged him. But his retreating figure disappeared in the smoke, and Amara felt cold.

Three Years Later

Amara shivered, and she knew he'd entered the room. Ever since that day on Platform 9 ¾, she'd become acutely aware of his presence. She avoided his gaze, as she had since her first year. And he'd avoided hers. They hadn't spoken to each other, not once, not even when they'd been forced to sit next to each other.

To this day, Amara Longsworth couldn't honestly tell you why she couldn't and wouldn't speak to Sirius Black. But something had happened on September 1st. Something that had haunted her, terrified her, and exhilarated her. The sense of loss hadn't left her. Sometimes, she found herself wondering what would have happened if she'd spoken to him. And whenever she wondered that, she abruptly shut off those thoughts. They scared her, hurt her.

One thing she did know. Amara was terrified of the idea of talking to Sirius. She was nervous whenever she was around him, and she avoided him with all she had. But whenever she thought about it, the idea of a world without Sirius was infinitely more horrible. It would be bleak and cold. As cold as she felt every time she looked at him by accident and saw his merry, sterling eyes.

Three Years Later

She felt his smoldering eyes burning into her back. Anger suddenly flared irrationally inside of her. Hadn't they had an understanding? Don't look at each other, don't talk to each other. Avoid each other's eyes, and they could live in peace. At least, in a semblance of peace. Amara had long since reached the conclusion that if she was with Sirius, maybe she could truly be happy. But happiness was something to be afraid of, because with extreme happiness, can come extreme pain. Memories of her mother cowering in a corner, and a drunken father shouting hexes at the top of his lungs, rushed up, unbidden, burning their images into her mind. Tears welled up unbidden, threatening to spill.

She stood up, furiously brushing the liquid pain away from her eyes. Then, it all happened too quickly. She looked up, flicking her bronze-tinted hair away from her face, and her violet eyes met the sterling grey, almost silver, eyes of Sirius Black. She wasn't prepared for the awful feeling of being completely understood, something she'd never felt before. Something she wasn't sure she wanted to feel. She'd seen what love and understanding could do to people. It tore hearts and lives apart.

Amara tore her gaze from his, but the damage was done. Somehow, strangely, even though she hadn't spoken a single word to him in her entire life, she'd fallen irrevocably and unconditionally in love with Sirius Black.

Terror shook her slight frame, and she fled the Great Hall. She felt the hurt in his gaze as he watched her, but she couldn't think about that. All she could think about was her mother. She couldn't end up like her mother. Attached to a man who hurt her, but too in love to do anything. Love was dangerous, love was out of the question. Love was the one thing she so desperately wanted and needed. Love was the one thing she would never allow herself to have.

Five Years Later

Amara glanced around nervously. She was in an alleyway in London, her wand snapped clean in two from falling down on it. A Muggle man had seen her, and had found her attractive. He'd come after her, and she'd run. And now, these were the consequences. In a dark alley, with no substantial protection.

Her breath, heartbeat, and footsteps quickened as fear threatened to take over her system. Every little sound sounded like the man was right there, about to attack her. She glanced around frequently as she tried to loose him in the maze of alleys in London. Suddenly, she stifled a scream as something wooshed over head, blocking the faint light of the moon briefly. She stared hard at the sky, searching for whatever it was that had made the noise. But she couldn't see anything.

And then she really did scream, as a rough hand grabbed her throat and began pulling her into a niche. Amara fought wildly, and then suddenly, something happened. She would never be sure of what. She heard two voices, one snarling, "Don't move, girlie," the other barking out, "Don't touch her!" Then a flash of light, a grunt, and a low voice mumbling a curse.

Amara scanned the alleyway frantically for her savior, or possibly her newest enemy. She could only see a dark shadow. "Wh-who are you?" she asked, her voice quivering with fear.

"You know, I've waited eleven years to hear your voice," said the shadow in a deep, velvety, comforting voice. "How come you didn't speak to me that day?"

Instantly, Amara knew who it was. And the pain she thought she'd hidden deep in her heart suddenly resurfaced. She found she couldn't speak.

Sirius Black stepped into the moonlight, and it cast dark shadows across his angular, handsome features. His amazingly beautiful sterling eyes smoldered into hers, begging her wordlessly. "Why won't you speak, Amara?" he murmured in a hurt tone.

The hurt in his voice tore her apart. She couldn't bear to hear the pain, knowing she caused it. "I…" Her word caught in her throat, but she forced them out. "I'm afraid of you," she said quietly.

His eyes were gentle, tender, as he spoke. "Why? You should know that I would never, ever hurt you."

Amara looked down. She couldn't think straight when looking into those beautiful grey eyes. "You wouldn't mean to. But you would. Love…causes pain. If I let myself love you, you could hurt me. I don't want to risk getting torn apart."

Sirius took a step closer to her. She took a step back, only to find her back pressed against the wall. His voice was sweet, beseeching. "Amara, why would I hurt you? I couldn't hurt you." Something about the way he spoke made her look up at his eyes again. He sounded so…sincere. But then she was cautious again. Her father had been sincere, too. Still, she couldn't help but listen as he continued. "We were only eleven, but since that first day, on Platform 9 ¾, I couldn't stop thinking about you. And then again, in fourth year…I don't know how it happened, but suddenly, I found myself falling in love with you." His tone had changed, sounding almost bitter. "But then, you ran from me. You won't even look at me. I don't understand, Amara. What did I do?" Bitter had changed from unmistakable pain in a flash.

The razor blade in her heart tore a larger hole. "You didn't do anything…Sirius," and she winced. She shouldn't have said his name. It tasted so sweet, so right. "I can't love. I know what it does to people. My mother," and her voice turned very bitter, "loved my father. She loved him desperately, and she believed him when he told her he loved her. I suppose he thought he did. But he beat her. Every day she was with him, until one day…" Her voice grew very quiet, very husky. "He was so angry. He couldn't control his anger, his magic. She was just in the wrong place. Had she been standing to the left, the shattered glass would have missed the crucial spot." Tears were thick in her voice and eyes now. "But it buried itself deep into her jugular and her windpipe." They began to flow. "And after that, he couldn't take it. He took his own life. Right in front of me," she whispered, the memories haunting her.

She didn't know when he'd gotten there. No doubt that if Amara had known, she wouldn't have let him stand that close. But suddenly, she felt his warm, comforting arms around her, and seemingly of their own accord, her arms twined around his neck. "I will never do that to you," he whispered fiercely.

And for once in her life, she dared to trust. And his lips were on hers, and they were kissing, and under the light of the moon and the stars, Sirius and Amara held each other, loved each other, and understood one another.

And suddenly, understanding didn't seem like such an awful thing.