I pick up one of your thin, pale hands-so elegant. But then, that always was how you appeared: as such an immaculate lady-like woman. Of course, people never could tell just how wrong they were until it was too late. Until they'd already been captured by you, and then, even when they realized the truth, they couldn't go if they wanted to. Most of them dealt with this by calling themselves the domineerant, when they knew that in reality, you were full well the one holding them ruthlessly in your mental prison. They all hated it, knowing that you had them tethered to you like a dog on a chain, never able to make it past the image of you-everyone, that is, except me.

"Sirius! Sirius come look what we've made!" you shouted.

It was the Black family's annual summer picnic, used by most as an opportunity to complain about other family members or to discuss the infamous planned Black marriages to other wealthy, pureblood families. However, with me at eight, and you at five, we were oblivious to the more unappealing aspects of this gathering, and only concerned ourselves with the issues of where to stake our claim for the best spot in the woods to play in before other, less favored cousins got to it.

I quickly pulled out of my mother's hand and willingly ran after you. Trying hard to keep up with you (I'd never admit that even though you were younger than me, you could always run faster), you led me into the woods where I saw a large fort made of pine boughs centered around a large fallen oak. You jumped up and down, clapping your hands; it was clear that you were very proud of your creation, as was I.

From behind it, Narcissa appeared (at three, just two years younger than you). Though she had always been rather tentative to dirty her hands, it seemed that she had let loose and contributed a great deal to this.

"We've even made separate rooms inside, like a house," she added, shaking her flaxen blonde hair out of her eyes.

I followed the two inside the fort, and saw how large it was, compared to how it appeared from the outside. Pine branches had been moved aside at random intervals for windows, and let a good deal of light inside. Logs had been used as dividers for rooms; there were five of them. It was tall enough to stand up in, and the rooms were all wide enough for all three of us to down side to side in. I was impressed.

"Wow," mused, "How long did it take you to build this?"

You looked lofty as she replied, "Two hours," matter-of-factly. "Now we can play house!" squealed Narcissa, who had obviously been waiting for this since they'd begun.

"You and Bella can be the mommy and daddy," she continued, "but you have to get married first. Then I can be the daughter." I looked uncomfortably over at you, not sure how you would react to being married (however pretend, at our young age any sort of play marriage was a temporary legal binding), though knowing I wouldn't protest. However, you looked overjoyed at the prospect. You never were one for tact or consideration of standard, or you would have scrunched up your nose and refused to take a step closer to me.

There always was that between us: you never compromised yourself. Your eyes (oh, those eyes, still even then) sparkled with anticipation, and you bounced up and down on the balls of your feet.

"Ooh, let's, Sirius! Let's get married!"

"Alright," I readily agreed, "but we have to have a good place."

So we poked around in the brush, not wanting to stray too far from our "house" for fear of losing the glorious creation. Soon, you called us over to a little spot you'd found beneath the long branches of a weeping willow. Underneath, the ground was dominated by a purple wildflower that seemed to part for us like the Red Sea for Moses as we made our way to the trunk.

"Now, 'Cissa, you can be our witness," you instructed, your obviously extensive knowledge of marriage coming in handy. "You stand over there, and, here, take some of these flowers. You'll be the bridesmaid, too."

I stood awkwardly to the side as you took charge (didn't you always?) and organized the whole thing. When you finally seemed satisfied, you took me by the hand and led me to the tree, where you took my other hand in yours as well.

"'Cissa, I guess you'll have to be the minister, too. Just ask us questions."

Narcissa looked terrified, afraid to spoil our wedding by doing something wrong. "What are your favorite colors?" she finally settled on.

You rolled your eyes, "No, 'Cissa!" you hissed, "Something that we can answer with 'I do'!

Her eyes grew wide as she wracked her mind for something suitable. After a moment, her body relaxed, and she seemed to silently sigh with relief. "Do you love Sirius?" she asked.

I stiffened at this, wondering what your answer would be. I needn't have worried- even then you were a hopelessly passionate romantic. You smiled widely and grabbed my hand, a look of rapture in your eyes.

"I do!" you proclaimed ceremoniously.

A wave of ecstasy ran up my spine, twisting my stomach into delighted knots. I barely knew the definition of love at that point, but to know that you felt something about me, however childish it may have been, was enough to satisfy me.

"Sirius, do you love Bella?" I was tempted to jump about and proclaim to the world that I loved you with all my heart, but I contained myself and managed to answer coolly, "I do," with much less enthusiasm.

That didn't seem to bother you. You were so overcome by the wave of adrenaline and excitement, always so excitable, always a fan of the ornate and lavish party.

"Um…" Now 'Cissa was stuck.

"Say something about our family," you hissed.

"Do you promise to be a good mommy and a good wife?" she asked.

"I do!" you squealed, the thrill of the moment overtaking you in a fit of giggles.

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife!" 'Cissa finished, seeming relieved, but happy.

You weren't satisfied. Your joy turned to a governing tone. "Narcissa Black, you've forgotten the most important part of the ceremony! The kiss!"

Narcissa's hand flew to her mouth, "Oh no, I'm sorry!"

She gathered herself, and announced in a formal fashion, "Sirius, you may now kiss the bride!"

You smiled, closed your eyes, and leaned towards me. I was frozen as your full, scarlet lips moved closer and closer to mine. At the last minute, as I feared you would fall forward, I caught you with my own lips.

In that moment, the first time your lips met mine, the world seemed to disappear, as cliché as it may sound. Life was perfect, there was no tainted past, no uncertain future, just then and the present was perfect. You broke away from the chaste kiss at exactly the right moment, and grinned, the dimples on your cheeks glowing.

As the day went on, we played "house" and "zoo" and "school" and "store" and all the other games we could devise, taking on multiple roles. But even as I portrayed a student, a cashier, a wild animal, I still thought of us as husband and wife. The bond that was now considered, by me, official between us was growing stronger. Little did I know that stronger, closer, powerful was the very essence of what you wanted that bond to be like. Though subconsciously, at your young age, your heart already knew what it wanted, and your mind was perfecting the plan. It was that day, I believe, that I first really did think that I was in love with you.

Of course, it was not true love, so much as an outpouring of all the suppressed feeling I had never had a chance to bestow upon anyone in my childhood. They went towards you, because you were the only one who I could ever feel anything about. Maybe not love, but I could at least feel towards you. And every time after that, the bond grew and grew, not mutually, but all I knew was that I was drawn to you, by a horrible net of no escape.