I wasn't happy with her because I didn't love her, I realized, watching the star trail faintly across the sky. That star was my feeling for her; it was my so-called love. It was small and insignificant and weak: beautiful only because it was rare, wonderful only because it was fleeting. And in its dying splendor we found bliss, followed by darkness and confusion, just like the barren inky blanket of the sky.

Sirius' eyes were far more magical than anything a spell could weave, more enchanting than even the most advanced charm. They were amber pools, rimmed with deep gold and set below heavy dark lashes, and they contrasted strikingly with his delicate, aristocratic cheekbones. For this very reason, Remus found it hard to acknowledge his friend's anger; he was drawn into his eyes and he couldn't bring himself to focus on anything else. When he was angry, Remus noticed, they seemed to dance with passion like light rippling under water. When he smiled, they rivaled the sun itself. However, Sirius was far from smiling at the moment and Remus knew he had to calm him down.

"I know, I know. We were planning on completing the Map last night. Yes – God damn it Sirius, I understand!"

"I'm just saying, it was a really irresponsible thing to do. You could have gotten into serious trouble!" Sirius said indignantly.

Remus glanced at him, an inquisitive look in his eyes. A wry smile couldn't stop itself from unfolding on his face; Sirius noticed it and struggled not to smile himself. Finally, laughter broke through the barrier of his lips.

"Okay, fine," he admitted. "I've just been waiting for a chance to call you irresponsible for a change since, like, third year." With this comment, the angry tension between the two melted.

Remus nodded slowly, glad Sirius wasn't really mad.

Sirius added carefully, "I hope you were having, erm, fun with her though."

"Actually, we broke up," Remus said offhandedly.

"What?" his friend was shocked into silence; his eyes widened and he opened his mouth, then closed it rather quickly. Finally, he regained his voice. "Why?" he asked, his voice full of doubt.

Remus shrugged. "I don't know. I just, kind of realized that I didn't love her after all."

Sirius looked at him like he was the most stupid creature to ever crawl out of the womb. "You didn't love her? Okay, um, that's fine. But that doesn't mean you have to break up! She was hot!"

"Some things are more important than physical appearance, you shallow prat."

"Yeah, but only like two." Seeing Lupin's expression, he hastily added, "Wow, just kidding. I understand, it's just… strange."

Lupin nodded again. He's really withdrawn for some reason, Sirius noted. I mean, more than usual. "Anything wrong, mate?"

"No… just thinking."

The sun set, blanketing the world in a faint golden glow. I watched clouds drift aimlessly through the sky, pale silver mists casting the world in shadow, and understood that the most beautiful things are those that bring darkness with them. As I gazed out upon the grounds, lost in thought, the branches of a shadowy willow tree became Sirius' feathery dark hair and the pink of the sky turned into his full lips.

It was then that I had the most tragic yet fulfilling realization of my life: I loved him. I loved everything about him. It was remarkable and mysterious how I hadn't recognized this before: how could I not have realized my heart fluttered every time he smiled? How could I not have known, when I felt part of myself weep every time he shrugged and smiled after telling a joke? When sadness settled over me like a stifling cloak every few weeks, how could I not have recognized it was because I knew that I would never have him, never be able to even admit my feelings? It was shameful, I knew, to love him, and he would never be able to accept me as a friend when I needed him for so much more. I felt a pang of loneliness as I realized that James and Peter would also be unnerved and perhaps disgusted by my tainted love. Love tainted by friendship, friendship tainted by love. I would never be able to tell him.

Glancing out the window again, I felt the same emptiness that gripped me last night. However, knowing the explanation for my desolation was far worse than my former naïve and unknowing state. Knowing you want something that you can attempt to attain and doing nothing is a shameful and deeply upsetting condition, and it was how I would have to live my life until I died, I was sure of that.

I watched, transfixed, as a shooting star arced gracefully across the sky. Despite my emptiness, this time I knew exactly what I wished for.