Sirius could not believe he was in this room again. It was sheer, dumb luck and a very sick twist of fate—whose neck he was sorely tempted to wring, along with that of one interfering, self-righteous, imposing Lily Evans. Much to Sirius' utter exasperation, she had decided that Tuesday morning was the precise moment she would take a leaf out of James's book, and what a leaf she chose: she had abducted Sirius, promptly shoved, pushed, and manhandled him into this empty room, and slammed the door in his face.

"Fuck, Evans!" Sirius yelled, trying to sidestep Lily's swatting hands. "I'll tell him when the moment is right!"

"What, are you trying to be romantic now, Black?" Lily asked cheerfully, shoving Sirius toward the half-open door into an empty room across the hall. "Romance is overrated. We live in a capitalist, opportunistic world, Sirius. Every man for himself. Early bird gets the worm. Besides, we don't have the patience to wait for your right moment to turn the proverbial corner, but if it makes you feel better, I, Lily Evans, declare this The Right Moment for the carrying out of all romantic endeavors the world over."

"I defy capitalism," Sirius protested blankly, stumbling as he grabbed onto the doorframe and dug the heels of his shoes into the floor to counter the force with which Lily was ramming his back, "My beliefs are Marxist."

"Go," Lily panted, "Inside. Trust me."

Sirius stared incredulously at her at this notion and she paused to stare back.

"No. Never. Are you done acting like a freak?" Sirius asked, still staring disbelievingly at her.

Lily put her hands on her hips, face darkening. "I'm not a freak." Then, suddenly, her expression brightened. "What if I told you that if you don't tell Remus before either of you walk out of that room, I will?"

Sirius's jaw dropped. "You wouldn't."

"Yes," Lily said, taking advantage of his shock and pushing him inside, causing him to stumble backward and fall on the floor. "I think I would. Seeing you in pain is what I live for."

She shot him a joyful grin before slamming the door in his face.

This was how Sirius found himself sprawled on the cold floor of an empty classroom with a throbbing tailbone and an impending migraine. The situation couldn't get worse.

"What was that all about?" A voice asked conversationally.

Or it could.

Sirius stared at the slight, tawny-haired boy sitting cross-legged against the wall, fiddling with an errant pine needle. He blinked curious amber eyes at Sirius, a small smile playing across his lips.

Sirius closed his eyes, head swimming with thoughts as an invisible hammer rammed at his skull. "How'd you get here?"

"Same as you," Remus said, tracing his pine needle across the floor in front of him, chin resting on the hand propped up on his thigh. He watched Sirius carefully, and Sirius sighed, wondering how in the world he came to be a sprawling mess of wild hair and rumpled shirt in a deserted classroom while Remus sat cross-legged in front of him with his shirt neatly tucked in like the little angel he was.

"I will kill," Sirius said, gritting his teeth, "Lily Evans."

"I'm sure she has a good reason for what she did," Remus reasoned.

"She's mental," Sirius said flatly, glaring at his knee. "She's lost her marbles. Off her rocker. Wholly and effectively driven to insanity."

Remus didn't say anything but continued twirling the needle between his pale, slender fingers.

"I'm going to kill her," Sirius repeated, still glowering at his knee.

Remus sighed. "This is getting repetitive. How about we just walk out and find her and ask her what this is about? I'm sure she'll tell us if we ask nicely."

Remus tossed the needle aside, clambering to his feet. Sirius was up in a flash, blocking Remus' pathway and causing him to start in surprise.

"We can't go outside," Sirius told him.

"Actually," Remus said slowly, eyeing Sirius, "I think we can. She hasn't locked the door, you know."

Remus attempted to sidestep Sirius. Sirius followed the movement and blocked him, attempting to tower over him. Remus frowned at him and tried to sidestep him again and suddenly, Sirius had him against the cold stone, hands buried in the front of Remus' shirt and knee pinned to the wall between his knees. They stared at each other, Remus in wide-eyed consternation and Sirius in slight panic, wondering how he was supposed to get himself out of this mess and trying not to let Remus's proximity mess with his train of frantic thought. There was a long silence.

"You can't go out there," Sirius told him simply.

Remus opened his mouth.

"No,"

"Er, Padfoot—"

"—Hush," Sirius told him, "let me think."

There was a short silence.

Remus blinked.

"Padfoot ... erm, you have an … erm. Problem."

"What?"

"It's. Erm. Down there. Below. Your erm … ah …"

Remus squirmed slightly and a sudden spasm in his lower gut made Sirius very distinctly aware of his problem.

He stared at Remus, and Remus stared back, and both of them stood thus, with Remus pinned to the wall and Sirius staring quite disconcertingly at him.

"That's not mine," Sirius said abruptly.

Remus blinked again. "Beg your pardon?"

"That's not my problem."

Remus stared at him in bewilderment.

"It's a canary!" Sirius shouted, causing Remus to start and clutch at the wall behind him.

"A canary."

"Yes. Yellow. And cute. And they fly."

"In your pants."

"That is correct, Moony. A canary. Like the one James had."

"The one you killed?"

"I didn't kill it."

"You threw it out the window."

"It's a fucking bird, it was supposed to fly."

"Why did you stuff a bird down your pants."

"I didn't. It went there all by itself," Sirius said automatically.

Remus blinked. Sirius reckoned that Remus blinked far more frequently than was humanly necessary, in fact, perhaps he should cease fluttering those eyelashes altogether and glue his eyelids shut, an activity that Sirius would very readily participate in, so that those smoldering amber eyes would stop looking straight into Sirius' soul like that…

"What can I say, Moony," Sirius said cheerfully, trying to drown out the obnoxious, rather lecherous voice gurgling in the back of his mind, "I am gorgeous and irresistible and All Who Cast Their Eyes Upon Me dive right into my pants, and let me tell you, that occurrence does not limit itself to mammals. I speak here of birds, such as the canary that is currently nestled in the area of my groin, as well as fish and frogs and insects and especially mammals, quite specifically humans but also canines, like wolves. I mean, of course, dogs as well, but that's assumed since I'm a dog so the next closest thing would be a wolf. Not to imply anything, I'm simply demonstrating the extent to which my charms can … charm."

"Of course," Remus replied to placate Sirius, as his mind whirred in bewilderment to make sense of the jargon of words that had been spewed at him.

"Of course," Sirius parroted, "So in a way, you happen to be correct. I do have a problem. It is rather big. And I require your assistance to remove it."

Remus fixed Sirius with his best prefect look. It was stern and piercing and Sirius had to make sure he wasn't drooling. "I refuse, point blank, to help you remove an imaginary bird from inside of your pants."

"But it'll maim me! My bits Moony, you wouldn't want anything to happen to my bits!" Sirius cried, sounding—and feeling—quite mad.

"That's rather presumptuous of you," Remus pointed out. "And it's a canary, not a chainsaw. Nothing will happen to your precious bits." He paused thoughtfully for a minute, and then added, "I imagine."

"What's a chainsaw?' Sirius asked, suddenly curious. "And you just complimented my bits."

"It's a muggle construction device. Large, electric blade. And I did not."

"Weird. I must get one. And yes, you did. You called them 'precious'."

"You will most definitely not go anywhere near a chainsaw. Nor will Prongs. He's only just fitted a muzzle on his reckless instincts, and I forbid you from giving him any ideas, or you have the wrath of Lily Evans to answer to."

"You're avoiding the topic."

"Au contraire, I think I just addressed it very directly. Notice the mild threat I managed to thread in."

"Do you really think my bits are precious? I'm touched, Moony."

"I think you should get rid of your imaginary canary."

"That rhymes."

"I … yes, alright, it does."

"Imaginary canary. It has a nice ring to it."

"Hm."

There was silence as Sirius considered his newfound source of linguistic entertainment, and Remus passed the time pinned between a mentally engrossed Sirius and the wall by observing the room in general, and in spite of the smothering nature of their arrangement, it was a rather pleasant kind of silence.

Until Remus started.

"Padfoot," he breathed, hands subconsciously grasping Sirius' elbows tightly as his eyes remained fixed on a spot on the ceiling behind Sirius' head. "Look!"

Sirius doubted he could peel his eyes away from Remus' face without sufficient motive, which, in due time, presented itself in the form of his insatiable curiosity, and his head swiveled as far as it could to heed the insistent tugging of his shirt and Remus' command to "look". It was worth it when he found out what he was supposed to be looking at, and he let out an exclamation of mirth.

"Merlin's balls, those are Peter's wank socks!"

The expression on Remus's face shifted from awe to slight distaste as his nose scrunched up in a way that gave Sirius the insane urge to tweak it. "Gods, that's what they are?"

"Why do you think Peter was looking for them for three months?" Sirius snorted in amusement.

"I thought … he liked Pooh, I suppose …"

"You could say that," Sirius chortled. Remus groaned at the insinuation and leaned his head back onto the wall with a soft thump.

"Pooh happens to be the beacon of hope and love for children the world over. He is an upstanding, rotund, lovable bear who enjoys eating honey. Please spare him the disgrace of being the brunt of your depraved, sexual innuendos."

Sirius had his head buried in the crook of Remus's neck and his hands were clutching Remus's shirt as his shoulders shook with silent laughter. Remus felt a muffled vibration on his skin and he sighed. "I can't hear you, Padfoot."

Sirius lifted his head, snorting with laughing. "Peter is kinky."

Remus felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips in response to Sirius's infectious mirth. "I thought that was you."

Sirius, still grinning, leaned forward. "Would you like to find out?"

"I know it for a fact. You have a canary in your pants. I don't find the need to elaborate."

"An imaginary canary."

"Hm."

Sirius cocked his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "You think Pooh gay or bi?"

"I … what?" Remus stared at him.

"Come now," Sirius said dismissively, "You can't possibly say you never considered the possibility that Pooh is gay."

"This is ... I ... never considered it …"

"Come off it," Sirius scoffed, "He carries around a flower basket and says, 'Oh bother' on a regular basis. He's queer!"

"It's a honey pot, Sirius!" Remus said in exasperation.

"His name is Pooh! I mean, he's three-fourths there already just with his name!"

"Your name is a homophone, Sirius, what does the irony of that tell you?"

"That my mother was fucking smashed when she named me. Anyway, back to the point."

"The point?"

Sirius leaned forward, a silly, lopsided grin on his face. Remus' eyes grew wide, amber orbs fixed on Sirius' stormy grey ones.

"You didn't answer the question," Sirius said conversationally, their noses almost touching, "What do you think? Is Pooh gay?"

Remus wasn't blinking now, and this bolstered Sirius's spirits greatly, having taken it as a personal victory after all that previous eye-batting. It was the most ridiculous conversation in the world, but at this point, the roles could be reversed and Remus could be reciting Hogwarts, A History from memory and Sirius's heart would still be racing three hundred miles an hour.

"Erm," Remus cleared his throat, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed deliberately. Sirius watched its progress. "Erm, I wouldn't know. I suppose you should ask Peter."

"Pooh's depraved, methinks," Sirius continued, eyes glinting devilishly, "Allowing the likes of Peter in his pants … oops, he doesn't wear those, does he?"

Sirius dropped one hand from where it was fisting Remus's shirt and his fingertips skimmed Remus's bony hip near the waistband of his pants. Remus inhaled sharply.

"Padfoot," he said, voice seemingly calm, but Sirius immediately noted the slight crack in it and this, coupled with the fact that Remus hadn't yet hexed his balls to join Peter's socks, encouraged Sirius to allow himself a tiny ray of hope.

"You do realize," Remus continued quietly, amber eyes fixed on a spot somewhere on Sirius's shoulder, "that amid all this, the image of Peter engaged in depraved activities with a yellow bear is a rather monumental turn-off."

Sirius's heart was thumping wildly. The voice of logic, admittedly the minority of his brain functions, had suddenly taken over as all other stations were abandoned, the voices of bravery and instructive response to stimulus having jumped off a cliff in panic. It was now rejecting all the suggestions from his brain that implied the possibility that Remus, in any way, was responding positively to Sirius' advances.

They were still nose-to-nose, Sirius' brain buzzing with contradictions and Remus' eyes wide open and staring unreadably at Sirius' face and Remus' fringe brushing against Sirius' forehead. Later, Sirius concluded that it was the sudden bombardment of stimuli that finally triggered the voice of impulse, which, in a desperate attempt to save Sirius' brain from spontaneous combustion, had screamed, "Fuck it!" and grabbed the controls of Sirius' physical movements. And in that unforgettable moment of utter lunacy and complete abandon, he did what he had sworn he would never, ever attempt.

"Let me fix that," Sirius said blandly, and promptly closed the last inch between him and Remus.

His brain exploded from the sensory overload and his nerves were completely fried by the sudden hitch in voltage from his catapulting heart, but he couldn't care less, because he was snogging Remus, and Remus was snogging Sirius back just as fervently (!), and there was tongue involved, and they had just finished talking about Peter's wanking habits and Pooh's sexual orientation and canaries in pants. And amid all the mind-blowing snogging, Sirius suddenly had to break off because he was simply laughing too hard at the sheer insanity of it all.

He was still clutching Remus' shirt and Remus was laughing helplessly back in exhilaration and Sirius couldn't recall the last time he felt this euphoric.

"Why are you laughing? Am I that bad a kisser?" Remus hiccupped, clutching at Sirius' arms to support himself.

"No, no, it's just," Sirius snorted in mirth, inhaling a nose-full of Remus' hair, "it's just, this was ridiculous, I hadn't planned it this way ... hell, I hadn't planned it at all, but it was ... absolutely insane, but it's, I dunno, it's ... fucking brilliant, you know?"

The sides of Remus' eyes were crinkled in a happy way and his mouth was twisted in a lopsided grin. "Yes, it is."

Sirius grinned back, cocking his head. "So, you're, er, okay with this then?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes. Would you prefer me not to be?"

"No, I'm just surprised that you're not ... surprised ..."

"I can act surprised if you like."

"Oh well, it's nice of you to offer."

"Perhaps it wasn't the best way for Lily to go about it," Remus mumbled, playing with the collar of Sirius' shirt, "But can you say you regret it, with the way things are turning out?"

"No, don't be stupid," Sirius said, smiling at the earnest, slightly unsure expression on Remus' face. He cocked his head again, eyebrows furrowed, "Are you really okay with this though? Because, you know, it's alright if you're not ... well I mean. That would suck, but I'll live, I guess, if you don't want to..."

Remus raised an eyebrow as Sirius spoke, eyes sparkling in amusement as he allowed himself a small smile. He interrupted Sirius by tugging on his hair impatiently to pull his face closer.

The thorough snogging Sirius consequently received was all the confirmation he needed.

"They're doing it," Lily said, breathlessly.

Peter and James looked up from their game of exploding snap, Peter frozen midway with his hand hovering above a stack of cards and James' fringe smoking slightly. They stared at Lily, who had burst unexpectedly into the boys' dormitory and was now looking like Christmas had come early.

James wrinkled his nose. "Urgh Lily, why would you walk into something like that?"

"I don't mean it like that," Lily said impatiently, her excitement bringing her to the balls of her feet, "I mean that they're snogging. Each other. Rather enthusiastically."

Not liking the slightly hazy, lustful look in Lily's eyes, James demanded, "But how?"

"I locked them in the room together," Lily told him, eyes shining with pride.

James gazed at her in adoration. "You're absolutely wicked, darling."

"Why thank you, James," Lily shot him a fond look. And then she laughed happily, tackling him in a hug that knocked his glasses off and made him laugh as well.

"It's about time," he grinned down at his girlfriend. "They've been making eyes at each other for ages."

"I know," Lily beamed. "We should have a celebration. Does Sirius still hate me? I'll go ask him."

Without another word, Lily flew out of the dormitory in a whirlwind, leaving Peter in utter bewilderment, staring at a rather upbeat James who was humming to himself as he reshuffled the cards.

"What happened?" Peter asked faintly.

"Funny you should ask," James told him, bobbing his head to an invisible beat, "Wonderful things are happening today. Finally."

"Everyone's been acting so weird," Peter said in flat consternation, "The world has gone mental."

James regarded Peter. He thought about the past week or two, about the sheer ridiculousness of the happenings around him and the insane set of conversations he had had and things he had done to achieve the most unexpected, rather wonderful result at the end of it all. He smiled.

"Peter my lad," James said cheerfully, clasping his shoulder in a firm grip. "I have no idea what you're talking about."