I lay down on the mattress, but I can't close my eyes because I'm too nervous and excited about the morn to come. The Boy's Dormitory is more quiet than usual since those who snore (like James) are vacationing with their families. It takes several moments for my brain to finally stop working and, just when I'm about to drift off into slumber, I hear the floorboards near my four-poster creak. None of the boys in this room have any pets that need to catch the ground; however, half of them do have owls, including me.

So my ears strain to hear the noise again – it is too dark for me to see. All the candles have been blown out and tonight is the new moon, which sheds no light through the windows. My vision becomes accustomed to the fact that the room is dark and its times like these that I'm glad I happen to be a werewolf. My senses seem to heighten every year, but my ears and eyes are the most effective and noticeable changes.

Sirius is sleeping so I immediately rule him out. After several moments of staying intently still, I realize that it must have been nothing. I submerge into dreamland, half my body waiting to spring up as soon as the sun rises.

I see Sirius get out of bed and I watch as he walks toward me not so silently because he steps on a book, which yelps at being mistreated in such a way. This is why I love Hogwarts – just when you think it can't get any stranger or more bizarre, it surprises you. I feel the prankster beside me, yet I know that it's not morning because the curtains would be casting a red glow over the area. They're not. So I wonder why he is doing this and then, I don't really care about the reasons.

He nears me and I can feel his hot breath against my ear. He licks me with a long slobbery tongue and I make a face and I would have made a sound too if, at that moment, he had not clapped a hand over my mouth. He grins that grin of his at me; the kind that causes my knees to grow weak. Luckily, I'm not standing. His face slides close to my own and the butterflies in my stomach squirm around.

"Remus," He speaks quietly, "scoot over."

"What for?" I ask.

I catch his gray orbs twinkle with a mischievous glint as he rolls them, but he doesn't answer me. He simply pokes me in the ribs and I do as he says. I feel his strong muscular body depress my bed even farther and I worry, for a moment, that it might not hold us. He snuggles up against me and I shiver at being this close to him. I have to stem my desire to wrap my arms around him.

I'm curious though because this is the first time that he has ever shown me such feelings; the first time that our relationship might be something more than just friends. I raise my brows at Sirius, another question forming on my lips, but he presses a finger onto them and shakes his head. The two of us are silent for what feels like a lifetime.

Finally, he says, "I had a nightmare."

I tilt my head and look at him oddly. I have seen Sirius have them before – that moment, when I brushed his ebony locks away from his eyes – comes back to me now. On the other hand, it's been a while since I've had one of my own… or at least the ones that I used to have. The past no longer haunts me because I know I can't change it; I am a werewolf and I've come to accept that. But now the dreams, most of which Sirius stars in, are either about things I dare not tell or so horrible that I cringe.

Suddenly, my heart sinks. This is why he's sharing my bed tonight. Not because he has more than friendly feelings for me, but because he has had a nightmare. I get the sensation that I might break or cry right there with him beside me, but I quell this desire. He closes his eyes and his breath slows; the sound of his steady-beating pulse lures me back to sleep.

I wake up. Had that been a dream? Biting into my lip, almost afraid of what I may see, I open my amber gaze. It wasn't. Sirius is still beside me, slumbering deeply. This time, the curtains are casting a red glow across the room and that can only mean one thing: It's finally morning. I don't want to move though; I want to savor this moment even if he's only there because of a nightmare.

I feel like I'm about to cry… I am crying. Sniffling, I quickly try to wipe the tears away from my face. If he gets up, I wouldn't know what to say to him; I wouldn't know how to explain. However, I suppose that he might know; after all, I had told him that I liked him and the fact that we haven't progressed any hurts me. This pain in me is worse than all the transformations I've ever been through added together.

My shoulders are shaking with the silent sobs and, trying not to wake Sirius, I slide out of my bed. As I look at him, I feel a brief smile touching my face despite the tears that are still rolling down it. How can he do this to me? Sighing, I walk into the bathroom and turn on the tap for two reasons; the first is to mask this sadness coming off of me and the second is so that I can wash once I'm finished. I'm angry with myself. I shouldn't be feeling this way, especially around one of my best friends.

"It's useless." I say to my reflection firmly. "He'll never change."

Yet, no matter how many times I tell myself this, it always fails. Everyday, my feelings for him grow even when I feel like he's trying to push me away. I can't rid Sirius from my mind despite the fact that it hurts me to think about him as such. Shaking my head, I sigh and cover my face with my hands. Why does he do this to me? He must know how much I'm suffering from his reaction.

Ooo0ooO

I sit in the Common Room, my fingers are jittering with impatience, but I wait for Sirius before opening up my presents. Finally, he comes down, a grin planted on his face, and he jumps the rest of the stairs. My eyes are drawn to his half-naked form; he's only wearing the bottom part of his pajamas, which was something I didn't notice when he snuck into my four-poster last night.

"Hey, Remus! You should have woke me up, mate."

He is cheery; so cheery that it makes me sick inside. He kneels down next to the lavishly decorated tree with its singing ornaments and starts picking out the boxes that are labeled with his name on the tag. I haven't moved and I feel as though I've been paralyzed. I was so excited and nervous about today before I went to sleep, but now I want it to disappear. I wish I could melt into this chair.

"Remus? Hello, Christmas! Presents!" Sirius waves one at me.

I speak, trying desperately to keep my voice normal and level, "Why don't you open up yours first, Sirius?"

He grins that historical grin of his. It still makes me quiver in the knees and causes the bugs to flutter more around in my gut; however, at the same time, I want to strike it off of his face. I can't remember what I had gotten him for the Holiday – if anything. He shows me each object that had been hidden underneath the wrapper paper and shoved miraculously into a box, but I don't see them. I can't identify them.

Whenever he turns around to grab another one, I feel the tears coming back to prick my vision. Through years of knowing him, Sirius always saves mine for last and he finally comes across it (so I had gotten him something, after all). He peels the paper off the box more carefully this time, trying not to rip it, and I can't help watching him. This time, I can tell what it is and I remember buying it at Diagon Alley months ago when school was first starting.

A journal. It's not much, but none of the Marauders really expect me to get them anything good because my finical status is poor at best. His face lights up and he seems even more boyish than usual. Suddenly, he swoops me up in a hug that I fear might break something in my thin body.

Sirius says, "I'm going to use this… I used to have one, you know."

I didn't know this so I only smile and nod, barely managing to stutter out a 'you're welcome, Padfoot.' He lets me go and a part of me wishes he had stayed there longer, with his arms clinging to me. But it is a feeble wish because I've realized now that he will be nothing to me except a friend.

"Remus…? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I lie and turn away from him.

"Hey," He laughs as he pokes me, "no getting depressed now. It's your turn. Open up mine first!"

Sighing, I walk over to the tree and pick up the one that's from Sirius, almost stumbling with the weight of it. I wonder what the Hell my friend has gotten me this year so I open it; my body feeling both joyous and frightened. Knowing him, it could be anything; however, James is the one who sends gag-gifts not Sirius. This thought brings me relief and I finally unwrap a huge book.

It wasn't even in a box – it was just hidden by metallic paper. 'The Collective Works of William Shakespeare,' reads the title. Smiling, I turn the pages to my favorite play that Shakespeare wrote: Hamlet. I look up at Sirius, who's grinning like a maniac, and I have no idea how to properly thank him. Being half-Muggle, I've read most of Shakespeare's work, though many of his plays and sonnets and ballads are all in separate volumes that are peeling at the edges.

"Thanks, Sirius." I say.

"No problem. And guess what… I got you something else."

I feel slightly uncomfortable at this news. Sirius has bought me a book – a very expensive one – and two pairs of gloves for my bear hands. I wonder how much money he's already spent on me; money that I know I will never be able to pay back. Then again, I know that his Uncle (who has passed away recently) left him a large fortune. Still, I'm not used to such attention.

"Okay. What is it?"

I begin looking for another present that's from Sirius and he starts laughing; that strange sound that makes me think his Animagus has bonded with him. He manages to say, "It's not under the tree." Then he corrects himself, "Or it could be… depends where you want it, I guess."

"What is it?" I ask again.

"If I told you it wouldn't be a surprise."

This unnerves me even more. I dislike surprises, especially ones that I know are coming from the Marauders; however, I also know that they would never trick or humiliate me like they do with the Slytherins. Ignoring my other presents, I stand up with a curious brow raised. The prankster takes a step near me, his gray eyes glinting from the flickering fire in the grate.

Suddenly, I know what he wants to give me. Part of me thinks, 'Please, let it be what I think it is,' while the other part thinks, 'Don't let it be that. I can't handle it if it is.' Sirius is close; so close that I can almost feel him against me even though he's not touching me. His thumb forces me to raise my head and my gaze meets him. I can see his orbs dart uncertainly and, despite everything that he has done to me, I nod just slightly.

It gives him silent permission and his lips press against mine. It feels different now that we're not under the mistletoe; it doesn't seem as mandatory as it was then. The touch is soft and gentle and delicious; I don't want it to stop. I wish we could stand like this for hours on end, but he pulls away and smiles.

"Sirius… I…"

He cuts me off, "Remus, I don't want to hurt you anymore. Please, tell me what you want."

It almost sounds as though he knows that I was crying earlier, but I clearly remember him being asleep. My brain is reeling as I try to decide what to say to him; however, the truth is, I have no idea what I want anymore. Half of me wants us to be together like this; the other half – the one that wanted to strike that grin from my friend's face – doesn't want anything to do with it. So I shake my head and shrug helplessly.

"What do you want?" I ask.

"I want you to be happy."

"I dunno if we can be together…" I say softly, "I really don't, Sirius."

He sighs, "I'm willing to try it."

That word again. Try. Pushing him farther away from me, though it breaks my heart even more, I finally snap. I slap Sirius right across the face and I see his stunned expression through my tears. I can't… I can't… I run away from him and I don't hear any shouts that he might make. I exit the Common Room and race blindly through the halls, trying to get away from him.

But I can't.