Fiona sat in the high-backed armchair by the fire, trying to ignore the creepy way the shadows danced about the dungeon of a common

Disclaimer: They're not mine. Remus' parents are characterized by me, but Remus' parents are technically J.K.'s. Fi's mine, but I'd rather own Remus…^-^ No 'fense intended toward McLellan…

A/N: You liked it, then? ^-^ *suppresses a rather huge grin* Great! See, I just hated looking back over those first few chapters. My writing style was awful--actually, my writing style was nonexistent. There was, like, no sentence structure, and it was all very basic and annoyingly simple-minded. So. I'm amusing myself with this, and I'm glad that at least a few people are reading it (all you guys following Fa should read this--it's a far better read than my earlier works, trust me). In reality, this is just another way of keeping my Remus obsession under control. *shrugs* Sorry. Can't help it.

Oh, and the second part of Fa is all about Fiona's past and such, so I sort of skipped ahead to the third part, leaving a little space in between for time to pass, mainly the second chapter of Fa. You'll get background scenes not mentioned in Fa (yay! *ahem*) and the fun part at the Hallowe'en ball…And Remus' dreaded dress robes come in handy, unexpectedly…^-^

Thanks for your reviews (and for humoring me on this…)! Namely, Loony Loopy Lupin, ~Aurora~, nayantara, the ever-faithful Ayleeandra, Kira, and Ebony. Thanks, guys! I love hearing from you!

Companion to Fa A Bhialainn Ann, Chapter 2

By Veralidaine

I hear you calling and you don't have to call so loud.

I see you falling and you don't have to walk so proud.

You can run all night but we can take you where-

You can shout out in anger

You can laugh like a fool

You can cry like an angel.

-Shawn Colvin

(I just thought that was a nice quote. So sue me.)

Remus' quill scratched quickly across the parchment, filling it with neat, efficient handwriting down to the measurement of nearly three feet. He'd been working for nearly four hours, but knew that however outrageously detailed it looked, it wasn't nearly enough to pass. Professor Blasphen insisted on a minimum of three-and-a-half pages on an essay, with tiny handwriting, like her own. The woman was a complete lunatic, really, Remus thought, scribbling down more nonsense about what, precisely, to add, exactly twenty minutes into brewing the Draft of Living Death. It was absolutely tedious, writing down all of this in enough detail to fill up over a yard of parchment. As Fiona had said earlier, when discussing Blasphen, "There's only so much you can say about adding a bunch of rot together with water in a big pot. 'S not that complicated." In reality, it was complicated, but the girl was quite frustrated with her potions grades, and nobody argued.

He smiled lightly as he thought of earlier that afternoon, when he'd been in the library working. That was when a very aggravated Fiona had bustled in, bag nearly bursting at the seams with thick volumes on Potions. She'd stacked them all quite unceremoniously on Madam Pince's desk, making the ancient, dusty woman glare at her from behind her ancient, dusty glasses. She'd been about to leave the library when she turned and saw him watching her. Rather embarrassed, Remus gave a small smile and went back to scribbling on his essay, which, at the time, reached only one-and-a-half feet long. Suddenly he looked up and saw, with an odd twisting sensation in his stomach, that she'd seated herself next to him and was glancing over his shoulder. "I'm not copying," she assured him, wide blue eyes locked on his. She grinned amicably. "I just wanted to see how far you'd gotten."

Remus shrugged and brought out the dreaded tape measure, whose only purpose, it seemed, was to discourage him. It was a wizarding tape measure, of course, and at the moment it read, I'd suggest you get a move on, speedy--isn't this due tomorrow? Grimacing at the tape, he glanced back up at Fiona, who was looking at the tape measure in interest. Then her eyes moved to his essay and she gave him a disbelieving look and snatched if off the table, looking it over. "How can you write that neatly?"

He shrugged again. "I just…do?"

"No, but really," she persisted, glancing over the top of the essay at him, one eyebrow peaked in a characteristically sarcastic way. "Lily's handwriting isn't even that neat. Gah, and you should see mine." She slapped his essay down on the table and searched through her bag, the sound of shuffling papers making Madam Pince eye her with extreme dislike. She pulled out her essay, which was more than a little frayed at the edges, and set it down on the table next to his. Her handwriting was loopy and a little bigger than his, and tended to wander freely instead of staying in neat lines. She giggled and turned to look at him. "See what I mean?"

He did, and he grinned, but he rather liked her handwriting, however messy it may have been. He raised his eyebrows, smiling at her. "You can't write straight in lines?"

"Well, what would be the fun in that?" She asked, grinning and brushing stray curls out of her face. All at once, something seemed to occur to her and the cheerful attitude stopped and she bit her lip, gathering up her things quickly. "I've really got to get back down to the commons…I've only got--" she grabbed the tape measure, stopping mid-sentence, and stretched it to the end of her writing. She sighed. "You need to learn not to procrastinate. Aw, how cute. It offers little lessons." She looked back up at him and his gaze was caught by hers again. "Well, Remus," she said, as cheerfully as she could, considering she had two-and-a-half more feet left to write, "Beannacht." And with that she stalked quickly out of the library, leaving Remus to puzzle over what on Earth she'd just said and rustling loose papers as she went, making Madam Pince glare at her back as she left.

That really had been the only time Remus had spoken to her since the incident in the Entrance Hall on September the first. They'd exchanged smiles in the halls on the way to class, and Lily often said she was doing well, if suffering a bit in Potions and Defense, but other than that, life went on as it normally did--full of homework, stress, and annoying third years trying to set off dungbombs in the corridors.

*

Remus sat, sprawled, in one of the red armchairs by the fire a few days later, unfolding a letter he'd just received by owl, potions essay crammed carelessly in his bag. The circled grade at the top was unsatisfactory, with tiny, sharp handwriting beneath it in red ink, stating that he had "left out far too much information and that his work was clearly done at the last minute, and therefore unacceptable and neglectful." And, apparently, his handwriting had been "illegible at times." He cringed, thinking about what Fiona must have gotten on hers.

The letter, as it turned out, was a response from his mother to the first letter he'd sent her. Apparently, she didn't care that he'd said he didn't need the dress robes. And she was well, and was glad he was well, and his father said hello. And he should get his Christmas shopping done early, during the next visit to Hogsmeade. And he should go to the Hallowe'en ball, of course.

Remus rolled his eyes, folding the letter carefully and placing it in his bag, pushing the crumpled Potions essay farther down into the mess of papers and quills with a crunching noise. He'd write her later. As of now, he was busy sprawling in an armchair by the fire and letting his mind wander, an activity that was rarely allowed what with homework, his prefect duties, and studying.

Sirius looked up from his Transfiguration essay on Animagus transformation (All four of the boys had been absolutely thrilled when given this topic--how easy could it get?) and raised one eyebrow. "You're done already?" Remus nodded tiredly, and Sirius scoffed. "Well," he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, "I suppose that's to be expected, you being the overachiever you are. You probably started this essay three days ago, when she assigned it, didn't you?"

Remus nodded, having worked with Peter on it yesterday (the boy had been given detention by Blasphen for this evening and wanted a head-start so he could have it done and not worry about it), and awaited the inevitable mocking he'd get for--God forbid--applying himself in school, but it never came. He glanced at Sirius to see what could possibly have interrupted his favorite subject for Remus-teasing, and discovered that Annelle had come down the stairs, in bright purple robes of velvet. She smirked at Sirius, who was staring at her with a confused look on his face. "What?"

"You're…purple."

Annelle snorted. "No, actually the robes are, Sirius. These are what I'm wearing to the Hallowe'en ball. I just wanted to go find Lily and get her opinion."

James perked up at the mention of Lily's name. He looked Annelle over with interest. "They look nice."

"Thanks, James." She smiled brightly at him and turned to Remus, eyebrows raised expectantly. "What d'you think?"

Remus shrugged, smiling. "I agree. They look nice." He didn't care that he was being redundant. He wasn't a fashion consultant, while James had to deal with Lily's constant worries that she might not look good in a certain color, or in a certain robe-style, or with a certain shade of eye shadow… It was all quite ridiculous, as Lily could make even the most hideous of dress robes look good simply by wearing them. James often told them, and in doing so gave Sirius even more material to tease him with, that she looked by far the best in green.

Annelle turned witheringly to Sirius. "I won't even ask you."

"Excuse me," Sirius said pompously, making James chuckle, "but I believe that I, by far, have the most expertise in judging women's clothing."

"Really, Sirius?" Remus asked, grinning. "Tell us, do you model?"

"Yes, all the time," Sirius shot back without even hesitating. "I particularly like the shoes."

That got everyone laughing, even the confused firsties at the table in the corner. Annelle, still giggling, turned to Sirius, calming down a bit. "Okay, then. What d'you think of them, O Great Fashion Consultant?"

Sirius got up with a humorously calculating look on his face and walked around Annelle, looking at her from every angle, eyebrows raised. This went on for a few minutes, Annelle looking torn between amusement, blushing, and annoyance. Finally, Sirius stopped in front of her, stroking his chin comically. "Well…" he said slowly, "I suppose they're nice enough."

"Nice enough," Annelle repeated blankly.

"Yes. I wouldn't want to wear them, mind," he said, ignoring James' snort of laughter. "But they look acceptable on you."

"Acceptable," Annelle repeated again, one eyebrow raised dangerously.

"Yes. I wouldn't mind going to the dance with someone wearing them. I wouldn't be embarrassed or whatnot."

"You wouldn't."

Remus almost laughed out loud at Annelle's seeming lack of articulation. She was either really expectant, or really angry. Or both.

"No," Sirius said casually, flipping his hair out of his face and giving her one of his too-confident grins. "I wouldn't."

"Really." She just stared rather blankly at him, obviously trying to decipher what he was getting at--if anything at all.

"Really."

Annelle scoffed, shaking her head at him, and said loftily, "I'm going to go find Lily." She jumped out of the portrait hole, closing it gently behind her. Remus turned to glance at Sirius, and grinned. His friend was still standing there, arms crossed, looking pensively at the spot where Annelle had just disappeared out into the corridor.

Sirius cocked his head thougtfully. "Me, too," he said, crossing the room in three long strides to the portrait hole and stepping outside, closing it behind him. Then it opened again, and his grinning face reappeared, long enough to say, "She fancies me," before he closed it again.

James snorted. "Oh, and he doesn't fancy her a bit, does he?" he laughed, grinning at Remus.

Remus shrugged. "Well, maybe if he's not insulted her too much he'll have a date to the dance."

One eyebrow raised sardonically, James nodded. "Yep." He turned to Remus. "Do you have a date?"

Remus sighed theatrically. "No." He glanced at James mildly. "Why? I never do; why the sudden interest?"

James shrugged, picking at a loose thread in the squashy scarlet armchair he was currently draped over. He knew about Remus' once-a-month problems, and it made dating a touchy subject. And James didn't want to fight. After a moment: "Maybe you could ask Fiona."

A blush crept into Remus' cheeks, unbidden. The thought had fleetingly crossed his mind, that day in the library after she'd left, but had quickly been stamped out. "She's probably already got a date. Besides, it would be awkward."

"How?" James asked interestedly, staring at him over the tops of his glasses.

Remus shrugged and opened his mouth, decided against it, and closed it, shrugging again. Then: "She wouldn't want to go with me, and then once she'd turned me down, she'd never want to even just be friends again. You know."

"Well, I thought the same thing about Lily," James said quietly, shrugging. "Sometimes you've got to take a chance. Be reckless."

"Be reckless? Ah, James, what are you, a character from a bad romance novel?" Remus shook his head, a disgusted look on his face. "I'm not going with anyone."

"Why?"

Remus glared at him, not harshly, but a glare, just the same. "You know perfectly well why."

James rolled his eyes incredulously, obviously nearing the end of his patience. That's just fine, thought Remus. Then he'll stop pestering me. James grimaced. "The full moon," he muttered, glancing around the common room to make sure no one was eavesdropping, "is not for another two weeks. You're being dense."

"No, it's not for another two weeks," Remus agreed, annoyed, "but if she should catch on? I can't date people, James, it just won't work out." He glared. "Don't get me wrong," he added after a moment, "I'd love to go to the dance with someone--then people would stop pestering me about my love life--"

"Or lack thereof."

Remus glared. "Yes, well. But the idea of shredding my girlfriend to bits as a wolf is far from appetizing." He swallowed hard, willing the unbidden image of an attack on a girl who looked rather like Fiona McLellan out of his mind. He shuddered. "I just…I can't."

James' facial expression softened a bit. "Okay," he said, displaying one of the traits that made him as good a friend as he was--willingness to drop a sore subject before it escalated into a full-fledged row. "Sorry, Moony."

Remus sighed. "'S alright. I'm just…" He shrugged uncomfortably, not saying anything, and James nodded.

"Yeah. I know."

*

Damn dress robes. Remus examined them with distaste, glancing around the dormitory. James (always the spirited Gryffindor) was going to wear bright red velvet robes, Sirius was currently picking lint out of black robes (his mother had picked them out, he said disgustedly, and ignored his requests for tie-dye or neon orange), and Peter was trying to extract gold material from his tightly-packed trunk. Remus sighed resignedly and pulled the dark blue velvet from his neatly organized trunk, heading for the bathrooms.

Once changed, he examined his reflection in the mirror. It was a few days until the full moon, and so he was nervous enough as it was. He looked relatively healthy, though, and the lines under his eyes were a little less noticeable. He frowned, and his reflection frowned darkly back, hating the cycle he went through. He never got a chance to just be a normal sixteen-year-old, and every time he glanced in the mirror was an unpleasant reminder of it.

He sighed yet again and headed back out into the dormitory, smiling slightly as he saw James attempting unsuccessfully to get his hair to stay down. He was standing in front of the only full-length mirror they had in their dormitory, looking distressed at his uncooperative hair, which absolutely refused to stay down in the back. Peter had pulled on his gold dress robes and obviously thought he looked quite good in them. Remus grinned, grabbing a brush and joining the group in front of the mirror, trying to at least make his hair somewhat presentable. It still wouldn't lie flat.

The four of them finally went down to the Great Hall, Annelle calling down the girls' staircase to them that she'd be down in a moment and to go ahead. Upon entering the Hall, Remus was struck anew by the wonder of the live bats, the decorations, the huge Jack-O-Lanterns with flickering grins plastered across their bumpy surfaces. True, he'd seen it all before, five times (well, four--the full moon had fallen directly on Hallowe'en in his third year), but it was still a treat to see it decorated so festively. Candles flickered as the cloud of bats swooped lower, beating leathery wings and shrieking in high-pitched squeaks. Remus ducked, narrowly missing being clipped on the head by a particularly disoriented and frantically squeaking member of the group.

It was after several minutes of tense waiting (for James) before Lily and Fiona appeared on the other side of the hall through the Slytherins' doors. Lily had a hand firmly around a seemingly reluctant Fiona's wrist, and several heads turned in their direction--Lily's lips were a bright cherry red and her robes an emerald green that set off her eyes quite nicely. Fiona, grumbling vaguely about something, scarcely disguised her amazement at the hall's decoration as Lily dragged her over to the group. As Lily let go of her wrist to go give James a quick hug, Fiona rubbed it gently, raising her eyebrows warily. Suddenly, Sirius grabbed her hand and, bowing, put on a very posh accent and said, "Fi!" with laughable enthusiasm. Fi looked amused as he kissed her hand ceremoniously. "How simply splendid to see you here!"

James wound an arm around Lily's shoulders and grinned at Fi. "Hello again!" he said brightly. "You know, we never get time to talk after Care of Magical Creatures. Kettleburn keeps us 'til the last minute!"

Remus agreed. Professor Kettleburn, with all his missing limbs and various magical-creature-induced handicaps, had absolutely no sympathy for the students, and therefore he let them out late, not listening to the protests of those who had Divination next, and therefore had to literally run to the North Tower. Fiona nodded, obviously thinking the same thing as Remus. "Yeah, I know. Maybe we should make time to do homework in the library or something."

Remus watched as she turned and noticed him, blue eyes smiling into his. "Hullo, Remus."

"Hi," he said mildly, intensely aware of his stomach doing flip-flops. It annoyed him quite thoroughly. He glanced around, curious, and before he could stop himself, had blurted out, "What, you don't have a date?" which caught James' attention immediately. He gave Remus an I Told You So look and returned to his conversation with Lily.

"'Fraid not," Fi said, and then glared at Lily, who was looking extremely amused for whatever reason. She was grinning enigmatically at them all while Fi looked extraordinarily wearied. She raised an eyebrow and Lily shrugged and grinned at her, mouthing, "I won't…Don't worry."

This, of course, confused Remus, and apparently James, too, for he glanced curiously at Lily and asked, "What's up?"

"Nothing," Lily muttered in the same knowledgeable tone, catching Fiona's eye and offering an impish grin.

That was when Peter, never to be left out, tentatively strode forward, glancing at Fi curiously. He smiled nervously and held out a pudgy hand. "Uhm…Hullo, I'm Peter," he said, as Fi took his hand.

She shook it politely, smiling back. "I'm Fi. Good to meet you."

Peter smiled nervously--he always was nervous when meeting new people, much less girls--and, catching Remus' eye and smiling, headed off to talk to Becky Scott, a blonde Hufflepuff girl he somewhat fancied. Remus smiled back and turned his attention back to their little group. Sirius was bobbing up on tiptoe, trying to see over the colorfully-robed crowd. "Where's Annelle?"

James caught Remus' eye and the both of them suppressed laughter. James still couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "I dunno, Padfoot. Did you arrange to meet her?" Fiona looked confused at the nickname, but no one really wanted to get into an explanation of that, so it went on ignored. Fi didn't seem too hurt by it.

"Maybe," Sirius muttered vaguely, in the same mysterious tone Lily had used earlier. Then his face brightened: "Ah! There she is!"

Annelle, wearing the promised purple robes, was waiting across the hall, looking extremely pleased with herself. Lily giggled and muttered, shaking her head, "She only was late to make him squirm."

"And it worked, didn't it?" James grinned as the band on the stage started playing, and music echoed off the vaulted ceiling, tonight clear enough to see the stars quite brightly, as well as the nearly-full moon. Remus shivered involuntarily.

"I guess." Lily sighed one of those classically female, "Oh, isn't this romantic?" sighs, and Remus rolled his eyes. Lily just grinned, though, oblivious. "Ooh, the music's starting! D'you want to dance?"

James grinned back at her, amused. "Aren't I supposed to be the one to ask you?"

"New rules," Lily said brightly. "Women's rights and such. C'mon!" She grabbed James without any protest and led him out onto the floor, starting to dance to the rather slow, even waltz that was issuing from the band's platform. Sirius and Annelle, who had found each other, were tangoing across the floor exuberantly, knocking teachers and students alike out of their way as they hooted and giggled. They neared one of the tables, and Annelle reached over suddenly and grabbed a flower from one of the vases, clipping it between her teeth as she returned to dancing and making Remus chuckle.

His attention was brought back from the dance floor, though, as Fiona sighed. "Well, I guess I'll go sit down, then."

He turned to look at her. She was staring at Lily and James, a faint smile playing at her lips. She was in light blue robes of a satiny sort of material, and had let her hair down freely, which he hadn't seen since that first meeting on the Express. He mentally kicked himself as he realized he'd been keeping track--she wore her hair tied back loosely most of the time. He swallowed. She's going to go sit down, you moron--do something! Now!

He flailed around for something to say to her. Finally: "Why? Go ask someone to dance!" He smiled, somewhat nervously, and tried to keep his voice mild. "You heard Lily—women's rights and such." Oh, that was brilliant. You certainly have a way with words, Lupin.

Fiona shook her head violently, her hair whipping around her face in loose curls. "No, I…" She shrugged noncommittally. "I couldn't."

"Sure you could!" What, exactly, his subconscious was working at, he wasn't sure.

"No, I..." Fiona shrugged nervously. "I can't, really."

"Why not?" He crossed his arms, smiling at her in what he knew must be a way that annoyed her immensely. Heck, it annoyed him.

She looked down at her feet, curls falling in her face, obscuring it from view. There went the stomach-acrobatics. "I can't dance," she intoned, sounding rather muffled.

"Sorry, didn't catch that." Now, of course, he was just being a prat, but an idea had got into his head, and that was always dangerous…

"I can't dance!" she shouted, over the music, shaking her hair out of her face and looking extremely flustered.

"Oh." Now that he was confronted with it, he knew he either had to apologize for being so very annoying, or…be reckless. Part of him wanted to apologize, but seeing Fiona glance out at the occupants of the dance floor changed his mind, and before he could even really think about what he was doing-- "Well, that can be remedied. Fi, d'you want to dance?" He mentally promised to punish his subconscious thoroughly later. The sensible part of his mind seemed to have gone off to the punchbowl without him.

She looked at him incredulously, obviously unsure of whether or not he was joking. It occurred to him that she probably had about as much self-confidence as Peter. She looked down at her feet again, going a little red in the face. "I can't..."

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for it and-- "Yes, you can! C'mon!" He grabbed her wrist gently and pulled her out onto the dance floor.

"No, Remus!"

He ignored her protests, and chuckled at her excuses.

"No, I...My ankles are weak, and...My knees don't work properly, and...Oh, this is silly, but..." She finally gave up as he came to their destination at the other end of the hall, out of Sirius and Annelle's tango path. Looking up at him warily, blue eyes wide, she bit her lower lip, obviously quite nervous.

He stared for a second at her before he caught himself and, assuming his Professor Lupin voice (as Sirius had dubbed it, quite willingly), smiled reassuringly at her. "Now, one hand goes on my shoulder," he said, and she did as she was told. "And you hold my hand with the other." He settled his hand on her waist, going a little red in the face and extremely grateful that it probably wouldn't show up in the candle lighting. He noticed uncertainly that she'd turned a bit pink as well, but it showed up more vividly on her pale face.

"Right," he directed. "Now, your feet go sort of opposite mine, okay?" He delved back in his mind to learning the steps. His mother had insisted that he learn to dance, but he'd never thought he'd need to use the knowledge. "It's a three-step." He led her in the first few steps: "One-two-three, one-two-three..."

She was a bit shaky, at first, and certainly unsure of herself. She tripped a few times, but gradually got the pattern down and, more importantly, refrained from stepping on him. She was quite a bit shorter than he was even without ducking her head to watch her feet, and he chuckled, listening to her voice quietly counting out the steps. He grinned down at her, one eyebrow raised. "It's not a test, you know," he said quietly, and she nodded, still vaguely counting. "Some of it's making it up as you go along."

She looked up at him, tripping in the process, and pursed her lips. "I'm not creative enough."

He was insistent. "Oh, come on," he said, making her smile lightly as she continued to count. "You've honestly never danced before?"

"Well…" She looked up, forgetting to count for a bit. "We have parties, sometimes, at home." She smiled. "Mostly, I play the music, along with my Da, and everyone else dances." She glanced up at him before quickly focusing on one of the huge Jack-O-Lanterns across the room, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks. "I think…I danced once, with Da, but they had to practically drag me away from my flute." She trailed off, mind obviously far away. Probably with mine, Remus thought amusedly. At the punch bowl.

He glanced at her feet. While she'd sunk into her reverie, her feet had adapted to the rhythm, and she was now dancing without counting or, indeed, concentrating. He grinned. "I probably oughtn't say anything, but you're dancing, Fi."

She glanced, astounded, at her feet, and then back up at him, grinning. She looked positively amazed that she was dancing correctly, and as soon as she realized it, she tripped, quite violently. Automatically, he reached out an arm and caught her before she fell, making her blush and mutter a soft, "thank you." He realized that his stomach was twisting around quite a bit, and he decided it was necessary to take a break and sit down. She followed him off the floor to the punch bowl (where he intended to recover the sensible part of his mind so he wouldn't do something really stupid, like attempt to kiss her or something else equally unrealistic). She seemed a bit flushed, and mostly kept quiet. He grinned. "There. Now you know how to dance." He had to make it sound like he was merely instructing her, and that the tingling in his stomach was nonexistent. "So, why don't you go ask someone?"

Her jaw dropped and she looked at him, wide-eyed. "Are you kidding?" she asked, in a high-pitched voice, crossing her arms. "That was exhausting! D'you have any idea at'all how much work I put into that, just then?" She laughed. "I'm not nearly coordinated enough for that sort of thing! D'you honestly expect me to go ask to do it again? I mean--"

He couldn't help it. He was chuckling. She was responding to the simple idea as if he'd told her he thought it would be fun to go live in the Forbidden Forest.

"What's so amusing?"

He shrugged, grinning. "You are," he said, hoping she wasn't offended. "You honestly haven't ever done this before, have you? Other than with your father, I mean."

She put her hands on her hips, opening her mouth and flailing about for a good retort to that. She shook her finger at him, on the verge of saying something, but thought better of it, dropping her hands to her sides. "No," she managed after a moment, grinning at her own inability to articulate.

He smiled at her quietly, reassured by her grin. He hoped she hadn't been absolutely miserable, dancing with him. "Well, you'll simply have to practice, then," he suggested, shrugging.

"'Practice?'" Fiona repeated, hands flying to her hips again. "Hmph. I've got another month-and-a-half before I need to worry about the Yule Ball." She added proudly, "Which I may not even go to."

"You're not going?" he asked suddenly, a feeling remarkably like panic rising in his throat. This was stupid; why should he care? Just because it was the first time he'd actually had fun at a Hallowe'en ball…

"Did I say that?" she said, eyebrows raised.

"No, but you implied it. Will you please come?" Oh, bugger. Now she's going to ask--

"Why?" Fiona asked, somewhat bitterly, and he knew where this was headed. "So I can trip over myself?"

"No, so I'll have someone to dance with." He grinned nervously. "Other than Peter." Lame.

She gave him a skeptical look, dropping her hands to her sides. "You…actually want to dance with me again?" she asked quietly. She looked absolutely shocked, and the faintest of color was rising in her cheeks again. She shook her head, trying to regain dignity. "Remus, I worry for your sanity."

He raised his eyebrows, smiling quietly. "I would love to dance with you again," he said, hoping it wouldn't scare her off. "Will you please come next time?"

She just looked confused, eyes locked on his, and he felt the sensible part of his mind fly away again. He sighed. "You're going to make this hard for me, aren't you?"

"What?" she muttered, still completely mystified.

He sighed again, swallowing hard. "D'you…want to go to the Yule Ball with me?" He watched her carefully, eyes on her face.

She didn't really react, at first. Whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn't that. She stared at him in disbelief, and he was worried she'd say no. A smile twitched at her lips and she nodded, shakily. "I…Yes," she said, making him sigh with relief. "Yes, I'll go. With you." She stared at him vaguely for a moment. "Uh-huh," she added dazedly, making him hide a grin. She gave him a tiny smile and, following the group of first years who were retiring early for the evening, waved vaguely, leaving the hall.

He waited until she couldn't see, and then grinned right out, suppressing a cheer and hoping that nobody noticed his red face. Who'd've thought? James was right. Huh.

And across the hall, wearing plain, black robes, Severus Snape eyed Remus in a dangerously calculating way.

A/N: Erm…I hope that was about as good as the last one (which I actually liked better, and am wondering if I should have just left it alone. But I couldn't, because I'm just having way too much fun…Next we have tutoring, Snape being a slimy git (oh, now there's a change of pace…), and some sulking in the Gryffindor Dormitory, as well as some James and Lily teasing. And several Sirius events. ^-^ Bad pun, I know. Could I help myself? (Has anybody else noticed that if you say the word "serious" you automatically think "sirius?" Or is it just me, being the HP nutcase I am?)