((Rating changed to 'M' for this chapter, just to be safe. Also, thanks for the reviews on the past few chapters, I really appreciate them!))

Chapter 11

The library offered the perfect atmosphere on a day like today. One could be completely alone with one's thoughts, regardless of the company. The librarian would not put up with any amount of noise at all. Not even a whisper could be emitted without reaching her ear, and sometimes I found myself wondering if maybe she was part hawk. So it was here, I decided, that would be best to spend the evening.

Sirius sat across the table from me, his attention completely focused on some book that had been already resting upon the table when we got there. Strands of ebony fell and veiled his face from my view, but I could tell that whatever it was he was reading completely entranced him. I could have gotten up and left and he probably wouldn't have noticed.

I looked down at the books sprawled open on the table before me. I had research to do for Transfiguration and so far my parchment was blank. I couldn't keep myself interested in any of the texts I had chosen and I doubted whether that had anything to do with the books themselves. It had more to do with the enigma seated across from me. Beneath the table his hand was resting upon my knee. I could feel every slight movement of his long, narrow fingers. Everything he did was very deliberate, and I was curious to know where exactly he was going with this. We were in the library, the options really were limited. Besides, just kissing Sirius seemed to have made him uneasy, this was probably just another platonic gesture I was looking into far too much.

I wanted to continue interrogating him, considering he had put a quick end to my questions earlier. Falling back into his silence certainly stifled his ability to answer any of them. Convenient that his voice seemed to come and go at his leisure. I couldn't hold it against him, however. He had every right to his privacy, and considering I had invaded it, I shouldn't be complaining about what he disclosed to me. The one thing I did know for certain bothered me. Sirius would be leaving in a week. Who knew when I'd see him again after that? The emptiness in my stomach gave way to butterflies.

As if reading my thoughts, Sirius' hand reminded me of its presence by shifting upwards to rest on my thigh. An uncomfortable heat began emanating from the spot almost immediately. I shot him a warning glance, but his face was still hidden beneath strands of silky hair as he read. I started re-reading one of the books resting beside me, focusing with as much of my attention as I could manage.

Sirius's hand crept upwards still. I could feel my face burning and I was sure I now held some resemblance to a tomato. Certain areas of my trousers were becoming… increasingly restricting. I thought I might die of embarrassment soon enough. Unfortunately, I did not. I was certainly alive, in some parts more than others.

Then without warning the strong hand was massaging my swollen bulge through the course fabric of my pants. His fingers worked with surprising skill, and it was all I could do to keep from gasping for breath. Making any noise would draw unwanted attention, and now was not the best possible time. I could feel myself throbbing, a carnal longing pulsating through every inch of my body. A series of small explosions tingled my senses and I felt the familiar trembling that warned me I was about to reach my climax. A rebellious groan rose from my throat and I could feel the librarian's angry faze fall on me. Reluctantly I batted Sirius' hand away from my arousal, feeling rather unsatisfied. I cursed under my breath at the poor timing of it all. Looking over at Sirius, I swore I could see a small smirk gracing his face, which was by now almost as red as mine. We both continue our reading silently.

The commonroom was filled with people and held the busy, chaotic atmosphere typical of a Friday night. First years were gathered in groups across the room, playing games and laughing amongst themselves. Most of the older students were taking advantage of the spare time to finish homework so they'd be free of the burden for the remainder of the weekend. It was hard to believe I had only a week left to enjoy being here amongst these people.

Remus was upstairs taking a shower. It was an unusually long shower; he'd been in there since we returned from the library. I grinned inwardly. There had been a sadistic pleasure in teasing him. If it wasn't for the obligatory silence, I was sure he'd have been yelling at me. I hadn't meant to do it, though. It seemed I had lost my ability to hold anything back in his company. He was comforting and reassuring.

James cleared his throat and I looked up at him, having been pre-occupied with my thoughts as I gazed off at nothing. Peter sat at his side, fidgeting awkwardly. He shifted in his seat as my gaze fell upon him, looking incredibly guilty of something. Peter always looked that way. It made it easy to project blame upon him, no matter how ridiculously unlikely the situation. Perhaps that was the real reason we all kept him around for so long.

"So are you still planning to try out for the house team this year?" James asked, his voice void of emotion. He had probably been waiting to ask me this for some time now; as the way he was staring at me was too intense for the question to have been a random one. I should've guessed that this would be on his mind; Quidditch was James' passion. If it weren't for Quidditch, he probably wouldn't be forcing himself to talk to me. Unfortunately, I'd have to disappoint him again. I'd forgotten about tryouts completely. Of course I wouldn't be able to try out for the team. My heart sank.

"I guess not…" he muttered, moving to get up out of his seat. He looked fuming, but at the same time defeated. I guessed that he had been hoping Quidditch would initiate some degree of reconcile between us. That's the way he went about things, hoping they'd work out on their own eventually.

"I'm leaving, James" I said, my voice just above a whisper. I didn't want the attention of anyone else in the commonroom. He turned to look at me, startled, obviously confused about what I had meant.

"I'm going home," I clarified.

James stood silently, pondering one thing or another. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head, causing him a strained look. "I thought you hated them, Padfoot…" His tone was suspicious, inquisitive, careful. I merely shrugged as a response. If any one of my friends knew anything about the terrors awaiting me at home, it was James. He'd know I couldn't possibly have chosen to go home, I trusted him to realize this. I need him to.

He frowned and furrowed his brows. "…Okay, well, goodnight." James made his way across the room and up to the dorms, a nervous Peter scurrying after him.

Telling him that caused my stomach to twist. I hadn't really thought on it in a while, and now I was unpleasantly reminded. I wished I were going home to James' house instead. It felt much more like home there than it ever had at Grimmauld Place. A fear embedded itself deep within my bones, then. The more I thought about it, the less I wanted to return to that place.