CB: Huge hugs to:

Dawn Aurilain, Roz, Black Crystall Draygon, cindered-hope, Johnny-Depp-luv, empath89, yaoi-is-gay-13, KeyvieSnape, Blinkelf, TrinityTheSheDevil, Pazza, Lhune, sbxrl4eva, The Fallen Caryatid, Wyall Jared, Anon, Shadow Cat17, juxtaposed, Lyth Taeraneth, Poicale, Lover not a fighter, Obviously Oblivious, Lunaris, Flame Solo, XxDecadencexX, alana chantelune, Dragon Pearl1, Queen of the Paperclips, the-only-innocent, SiriusMoonPuppy, Naitriab, Avain, LBx, YukiDragon, Plushii, XxMercuryTearsxX, Cornelius Terrible, shadowbird, Titou Moony, LuminescentWings0127 and JuliTina.

Also, a huge amount of thanks to Nuria for being an amazing 'plot beta'. Our thrashings out of the finer points of this thing really helped me, so thanks!

'The aim of education should be to teach us rather how to think, than what to think –

Rather to improve our minds, so as to enable us to think for ourselves,

Than to load the memory with thoughts of other men.'

- Bill Beattie

"You," James said accusingly as Sirius staggered back into the dormitory, hair wind-blown and tangled, "are out to seduce him, aren't you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Sirius's face was the perfect picture of innocence as he casually slipped the violin case under his bed, unwilling to have James or Peter question him about it.

"Don't lie, we saw you this afternoon!" James folded his arms.

"Well, I didn't," Peter corrected, "but James insisted he saw the two of you…er…"

"Kissing!" James scowled. "Why on earth were you kissing?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sirius repeated, smoothing back his hair and reaching over to pull some pyjamas out of his school trunk. "You must have been mistaken, Jamie. I mean, if you honestly think I'd kiss Professor Lupin…" He pulled a face and began to unbutton his shirt. "Honestly, you need your head examined."

"Well if you didn't kiss him, and you're not out to seduce him, how on earth are you going to get him fired?" James ignored Peter's disapproving huff and began shoving his scattered schoolbooks under his bed, deliberately not looking at his best friend.

"That is none of your business, Potter. I refuse to give away trade secrets." Sirius adopted a haughty expression, even as he began to take off his trousers, and sniffed disapprovingly as James muttered something that was – no doubt – unflattering, under his breath. "Besides, if I tell you, you'll just thwart my wicked plans, and then I'll lose my fifty galleons." He smiled serenely as James cursed, louder this time, and kicked at a stray ball of crumpled parchment.

Peter frowned and said nothing as he watched the other two blithely commenting on the destruction of an honest man's career. Biting his lip, he forcibly swallowed the sharp reprimand that had been about to burst from his throat, knowing it would do no good. The two dark haired boys, he had learnt, were stubbornly independent, and whilst they wouldn't ignore his protest, they wouldn't exactly listen to it either. One of the harsh facts of life was that James Potter and Sirius Black moulded the world to suit them.

"At the risk of sounding like a jealous husband in a cheesy 1950's movie," James was saying, pushing his glasses impatiently up his nose, "just where were you this evening?"

Sirius shrugged evasively, clambering into his bed and pulling the thick duvet up to his chin. "Nowhere interesting."

"You were with Lupin, weren't you!" Not a question, merely an accusation.

"No." Sirius smiled, safe in the knowledge that, for once, he was telling the truth.

"Se-ear…"

"Ja-ames…"

James huffed and jumped into his own bed, sticking his tongue out childishly at Sirius. "Fine, be that way, Black, but just remember, I'll be watching you…" He grinned, a sinister light in his eyes as Sirius mock-shivered, before his bed curtains were drawn shut with a decisive swish. A moment later, Peter, too, was in bed, and the candles in the dormitory had been blown out, sending the room into soft darkness.

Sirius lay on his back breathing slowly, evenly through his mouth. From far away, muffled through thick stone, he could hear the sound of other Gryffindors still in the common room. The wind whispered softly outside the window and he rolled over, burying his face in the pillow, a drowsy haze already beginning to creep over him.

I wish I had time to do that more often, he thought, remembering the music the violin had created as he had stood on top of the tower. It's not often I just get time to myself. He smiled, then, knowing he wasn't really a solitary creature – far from it, in fact – but that sometimes he did simply enjoy the peace and quiet when James and Peter were not around. When he could simply be.

A lone wolf, he thought with a touch of irony, sighing contentedly as he wiggled his toes, curling them into the mattress. I wonder if it's a throwback to my traumatised childhood. He snorted quietly, and heard an answering snore from James's side of the room. Must be, he decided, rolling over onto his back again, his thoughts jumping. Wonder what happened to Andromeda, in the end. He shivered, burying still further under the covers as he remembered the day his cousin had walked out – the shrieks as his mother burnt her name off the family tree, curses colouring the air. I think I'd rather face a thousand detentions than see that happening to me.

In the bed across from him, Peter began to snore and the soft rhythmic sound slowly began to lull him to sleep.

AaAaAaAa

There were several things in life that Severus Snape hated. He hated the smell of freshly cut grass (it sent him into a fit of sneezing); the taste of sausages; having to dissect small creatures, sometimes, for potions and he hated school robes.

He also hated Sirius Black.

It wasn't just one aspect of the other boy – he hated everything about him. He hated the way Sirius always achieved top marks in everything, without even trying; became infuriated because Sirius caused so much trouble and still escaped without any consequences. He hated his personality, his looks, and he hated the fact that in many ways, their characters were so similar. Sirius Black, Snape often reflected, was like another, more handsome version of himself.

And he hated that most of all.

At the moment, Sirius was sitting at the desk in front of Snape's, his head bowed over his work, quill scratching industriously against parchment. Next to him, Potter was staring blankly out of the window, chin propped on his hand, brown eyes glazed with boredom. Out of the corner of his eye, Snape could see Lily Evans frowning disapprovingly at the two boys, and Peter Pettigrew gazing worriedly at McGonagall, who was writing notes on the blackboard, dictating as she did so.

Sirius jumped as she tapped the board to emphasise a point, and hurriedly stuffed the parchment he had been writing on in his pocket. Snape frowned – this was not typical Black behaviour. Normally, the arrogant boy would simply ignore the professor completely, even if he was planning something disruptive.

He was up to something.

Snape narrowed his eyes, his expression grim. Well, whatever it was, he was sure the resulting punishment would do little to deter Black or his cronies – in fact, Severus had long suspected it actually encouraged them.

He remembered the first time he had met Sirius.

He'd been eleven – Hogwarts was becoming an exciting reality, and his mother had taken him to Diagon Alley, intent on purchasing his school robes early. They'd met the Blacks down a side alley, away from the bustle of the main street. Mr Black had been a tall, commanding figure, his quiet nature at odds with his severe face. Mrs Black had been a short, slender woman, her face pretty in a sharp, angular way.

His mother had paused, smiled, and begun to talk to them – a normal enough occurrence and he had ignored the conversation with a child's disinterest until he had heard the words 'Hogwarts' and 'my son'.

Turning back from his study of the brickwork to his left, he had caught sight of a pale, slender boy standing silently behind the Blacks. A sulky expression was settled across his pale, aristocratic features, but Snape thought he was probably the prettiest eleven year old he had ever seen. The boy had sneered at him, one dark, swooping eyebrow raised in an expression of disdain, and despite his handsome face, Severus knew he wouldn't like the boy at all.

"Sirius," Mrs Black had said, gripping her son's shoulder, "Severus will be going to Hogwarts too. Make sure you are friends with him when you're in Slytherin."

When, not, if.

Sirius had scowled, pushing his already long hair away from his face. Not replying, he turned away from his parents, fingernails scratching the dirty bricks under his hand as he stared bored, down the alley.

Later, the two families met again in Madame Malkin's, and this time Sirius smiled at him. It wasn't a particularly nice smile, and Snape realised with a sinking feeling that whatever Sirius was about to do, it was likely that the blame would land squarely on his shoulders.

He was still tensed when the Dungbombs went off.

Thinking on the incident, he couldn't remember much, just the shouting and coughing as the smell and the smoke drove people towards the door, hands pressed over their noses and mouths. Mrs Black had shouted at Sirius, her voice rising in a shriek that made people turn their heads, pausing to stare. The most vivid piece of memory, though, was the way Sirius had simply stared up at her, grey eyes burningly cold in his face, wearing an expression that, to most, would have been unreadable. Severus, however, could quite easily understand what was flickering behind that stony façade.

It was defiance.

AaAaAaAa

"Advance and parry…thrust…lunge…no, no, no! What do you think you're doing, boy? I'm running a fencing class, not a knitting club! If you can't use your blade properly, you can get out of my classroom right now!"

Sirius sighed and decided not to point out that the 'classroom' was actually the huge hall of the Black's summerhouse. Hammington would probably box his ears – he'd been told to use 'any method he wanted' by Mrs Black – then make him repeat the exercise anyway.

"As a Black, you will be expected to learn all the traditional pastimes of this family," his mother had said, her grey eyes hard over the breakfast table some three weeks ago. "I've hired you a fencing instructor." She sipped her tea, before setting the cup down on the delicate porcelain saucer with a decisive click. "It's a noble sport and one that I'm sure you'll warm to with your…violent tendencies."

"But I don't want –"

"You're instructor will be here in half an hour." She had cut him off deliberately. "I suggest you go and get changed."

Which was why he was standing here, watching Hammington (and wasn't that just the most ridiculous name he's ever heard?) demonstrate the same movement he had not three minutes ago.

"En garde," Hammington snapped, and he leapt to the defensive position, muscles obeying without his brain even absorbing the words. "Good, Black, you're getting better. Your reaction time's much quicker." He nodded, almost approvingly and Sirius felt himself flush with pleasure. "Another couple of weeks and you might be ready to be pitted against someone else."

"Really?"

Hammington nodded again. "Yes, I have another pupil, just about your age, you've heard of him – of course you have." He shook his head but didn't comment further, tapping the tip of his foil lightly against the polished wood floor. "Come on now. Advance! Parry! Thrust! Lunge!"

AaAaAaAa

A traditional education – that was what his mother had wanted him to have. Sirius frowned as he doodled on yet another scrap piece of parchment. The snobbery implicated in that one sentence alone was enough to set his flesh crawling – yet the aristocratic grooming was part of him – was him – in a perverse kind of way. The elegant table manners; the polite conversation and witty anecdotes; the unthinking acceptance of being waited on hand and foot – all part of him.

He sighed and scratched another little stick figure onto the parchment.

And yet…he actually liked being a snob. He enjoyed the social attention and the delicate spun beauty of the upper class world. His fencing lessons had been but a part of the advantage he was given in life. He could do anything he wanted and not have to face the consequences.

"Sirius Black!"

Sirius jumped and looked up from his doodle-covered piece of parchment. Professor McGonagall was standing in front of his desk, hands on hips, her nostrils flaring as she stared at him, fury written across her face.

"That is the third time I have had to call your name, now would you be so kind as to pay attention! Or am I going to have to keep you in this evening to copy down everything you appear to have missed in today's lesson?" She tapped her foot.

"Sorry, I'll pay attention."

James waited until she had stalked away, before nudging him in the ribs. "Thinking of a certain someone?" he hissed, eyes gleaming mockingly behind his glasses.

"Yeah, you," Sirius mouthed back, sarcastically.

"Not darling Professor Luuuupin then?" James pouted his lips and made quiet kissing noises as McGonagall turned her attention back to the blackboard.

To Sirius's right, Peter frowned.

"What, favour Lupin over you, Jamie? Never!" Sirius blew him a kiss and heard Lily giggle quietly, her red head bending hurriedly over her work as McGonagall looked up, sharply.

"One more word out of you, Potter, and I'll make you stay behind as well."

James scowled, but shut up.

Sirius sighed and glanced at the hourglass measuring the time left until the lesson ended. Five more minutes. Five minutes and he had Defence Against the Dark Arts.

He grinned and bent over his scrap of parchment again.

AaAaAaAa

Remus took a deep breath, his hand on the doorknob.

You're already five minutes late, he reminded himself, just go in, will you?

Through the door he could hear the babble of voices as the students passed the time, waiting for their professor to show up. A girl shrieked then fell silent to a chorus of 'shush!' and a boy laughed. There was the thump of a desk being moved and then, over the din, Remus heard Sirius's voice, clear through the thick wood.

"Shut up, will you? Some of us are trying to sleep!"

This was met with several good-natured jeers and the rough sound of James Potter's laugh.

Enough was enough, he had to go in.

Taking a deep breath, and feeling as though this was his first time teaching a class, Remus pushed open the door.

Immediately the room fell silent, and he smiled as he pushed his battered briefcase onto the desk. "Good afternoon, everyone. Sorry I'm late, I had to speak to Professor Dumbledore about something." Keeping his eyes fixed firmly on his briefcase, he undid the clasps with steady fingers. "If you would all open your textbooks to page ninety three, we will begin to cover dark creatures today." Only when he heard the sound of rustling pages did he dare to open his eyes.

Sirius was sitting right at the very front, grey eyes fixed on his face. Remus met his gaze and flushed, before looking away.

"Today's topic is vampires," he continued, picking up a piece of chalk and beginning to write on the board. "Can anybody tell me –without looking at the book – one of the most common places we can find one?"

"The Slytherin common room!" someone shouted, earning a gale of laughter from the rest of the class.

Remus smiled at the board, unwilling to show his own amusement. "No, I'm afraid your fellow students don't harbour vampires. Anyone else like to try?"

"In small villages, usually on the edge of moors, and most often in colder countries." The low voice cut through the quiet hum of conversation that had broken out after the initial comment, making the room fall silent.

Remus froze, swallowed, then turned around, an approving smile plastered on his face, the chalk still raised – almost defensively. "Very good, Mr Black. Five points to Gryffindor."

Sirius smiled, eyes lazy under lowered lashes, and Remus had to tell himself firmly that it was not a 'come hither' type of look. "Thank you, Professor Lupin." Tucking his hair behind his ear, Sirius leant back in his seat, tie loose. Behind him, James was shaking his head, an expression of resignation gracing his features and Remus, darting a glance at the rest of the class, saw surprise written across several faces.

"Right." The young teacher cleared his throat and turned back to the blackboard. "Let's start with the survival properties, shall we? A vampire needs blood to survive. It does not, however, require human blood, neither is it destroyed in sunlight. A vampire can, in fact, survive a substantial amount of natural light before sustaining even minor burns. It does, however, usually hunt at night because humans and other creatures are more vulnerable after sundown."

One of the girls at the back of the class raised her hand, looking faintly embarrassed. "Excuse me, Professor Lupin, but why are we more vulnerable when it's dark? Surely it shouldn't make a difference whether it's light or not…"

"You'd think so," Remus replied, smiling, "but our eyesight is not as good, and we tend to become more nervous when it's dark. Vampires are attracted to fear, so our discomfort sends out a signal to them."

In front of him Sirius shifted, bored and picked up his quill.

"That leads me on nicely to ways of combating a vampire." Remus turned back to the blackboard. "Firstly, it is important not to show fear. You show fear and you show your weakness. A vampire will pick up on that immediately and see it as an open signal to attack. Secondly, you must remember that whilst vampires possess no magical power themselves, they are still susceptible to spells, just like muggles. Your best chance if you meet a vampire is to have your wand ready. At the risk of sounding like an old friend of mine, constant vigilance is essential, particularly when dealing with dark creatures."

He paused chalk coming to a halt as he turned around again, the lesson flowing more easily now as he noted – with some relief – that Sirius was sitting quietly, not even meeting his eyes. "A simple stunning charm will usually knock them out," he continued, smiling as he watched the class scribble on pieces of parchment, "or…" he paused as Sirius looked up.

He did not look bored, as Remus had –stupidly – assumed. Rather, he was smirking. It was the kind of smirk that said 'I know something you don't, but you're going to find out what that something is very soon'. Remus swallowed, gaze locked with Sirius's. "Yes…anyway, a stunning charm," he continued, eyes slightly wide. "Once they're…ah…stunned, it's usually a good idea to finish them off immediately."

Sirius blinked, slowly, eyelashes dark smudges against the curve of his cheekbones.

Remus swallowed. Hard.

"Usually, tying them up is the, er, best way to disable them completely. That way, they can't attack or escape if they come around to early." One or two of the students looked at him, curiously, and he forced himself to look away from Sirius and up towards the back of the classroom. "The idea of a stake through the heart is not a bad one," he continued, rather desperately, aware of Sirius watching him. "In fact, there's a lot of merit to it. However, most of us don't tend to carry stakes around in our pockets."

This prompted quiet titters from the class, and Remus sighed, relieved, as he continued to look towards the back. "You're best hope, therefore, would be to immediately report the vampire to the ministry. However, I'm not here to teach you how to contact them, I'm here to teach you what to do if something goes wrong." Remus cleared his throat, ready to continue and made the mistake of glancing back towards the front of the class.

Sirius was still watching him, running his quill absent-mindedly over his lower lip.

Remus felt the breath leave his lungs and his face begin to flush as the student held his gaze, a small, challenging smile curling the corner of his lip. The silence in the classroom lengthened, until Lily coughed politely, shattering the moment abruptly.

"Yes, anyway…" Remus tore his eyes away from Sirius again and looked at Peter, who was sitting next to James. "The easiest way is to…ah…choke it." He waited for the murmurs of disgust to die down before continuing, "It's easiest if you know the correct way to go about it. If you kill a vampire, the ministry certainly won't charge you, so I'm allowed to teach you this – purely in self-defence, of course. I need a helper, Mr P – " He was half pointing towards Peter, when Sirius stood up, abruptly.

"Allow me, Professor." Eyes full of mischief, he faced Remus. "I'm sure it's easier for me to do it than Peter – I look more vampire-ish, don't you think?"

"No at all." Remus licked his lips, nervously. "Very well, thank you for volunteering, Mr Black."

"Where do you want me to stand?" Sirius was still staring at him, back to the class, one eyebrow raised.

"Right, er, there." Gripping the robe-covered shoulders, Remus manoeuvred the taller boy until he was standing facing towards the front, back straight, hair falling over his shoulders. Absently Remus realised that Sirius should have had his ridiculously long hair tied back, but decided against bringing it up. He also realised that Sirius was taller than him, and in order to demonstrate the choking position, he was going to have to reach over, which would bring him a lot closer to the boy than he had anticipated.

"Make sure your fingers are tensed," his voice was surprisingly steady. "If they're lax, you won't be able to dig them in – not to put too fine a point on it." Carefully he reached forwards, grasping Sirius's hair in one hand and pushing it over the student's shoulder. "Sorry, Mr Black, but your hair is going to get in the way otherwise," he murmured into Sirius's ear, and was surprised when Sirius shivered slightly.

"That's ok, Professor." Not more than a murmur, for his ears alone, and Remus could have sworn that Sirius was smiling down at the floor.

"Place your fingers on either side of the windpipe…" And here it was, he was going to have to touch Sirius.

Rainwater and the feel of a warm, wet mouth against his own…

Remus drew his breath in sharply, fingers sliding carefully, hesitantly across smooth, warm skin. Sirius tilted his head back slightly, and the shocked teacher realised he could feel tendons shifting, even as he moved closer, thumbs coming to rest either side of his pupil's windpipe. Carefully, he took a step forwards, raising himself up slightly onto the balls of his feet so that he could see clearly.

"Once your hands are in this position," he continued, trying to ignore the way he was pressed against Sirius's back and the feel of a strong pulse fluttering under his fingers, "you simply dig your thumbs in. it effectively cuts off the air supply and, more importantly, the Vampire's ability to drink blood. As long as you maintain that pressure, no matter how hard the creature struggles, it cannot swallow, and therefore consume your blood." He smiled, weakly at the class and shivered as he felt Sirius hum, low in his throat.

Dragging his hands away, he stepped back and nodded. "Thank you, Mr Black, you can sit down now."

Sirius turned and smiled at him. "Not a problem, Professor." Then, to Remus's shock, he stepped nearer, expression intent. "Can I speak to you after class?" His voice was low, husky, intended for nobody else's ears.

"No, I don't think –" Remus began, already anticipating trouble.

"I'll see you this evening, then," Sirius licked his lips, then turned and sauntered back to his seat, hips swaying slightly in a manner that made Remus's mouth turn dry.

He couldn't concentrate for the rest of the lesson.

AaAaAaAa

"Who," said James as he dug through Sirius's school bag in a vain attempt to find a Transfiguration textbook, "is 'RL'?"

"Hmm?" Sirius, sprawled casually in one of the Gryffindor armchairs, looked up from his book.

"'RL'." James straightened and brandished a crumpled piece of parchment – the same one Sirius had been doodling on in McGonagall's lesson. "Is there some girl that we don't know about, Sear?"

"Nope." Sirius turned his attention back to his book.

"Then who is it?"

"Nobody you need to worry your messy head over, Potter." Sirius turned a page and glanced casually at the clock on the mantelpiece.

"I think I should." James peered at the parchment, pushing his glasses up his nose as he did so. "You've written their initials all over this thing. See?" He brandished it at Peter, who simply waved him away irritably. "RL in the corner, RL in the middle of the page, RL with a nice little star design around it…" James broke off and squinted closer. "Hey, those are actually rather good stars, if I do say so myself, Sirius." He sniffed disapprovingly as his friend paid no attention to him. "Must be a pretty nice girl," he muttered.

"It's not a girl," Sirius said blandly, shutting the book with a snap.

"Then who is it?" James cried, exasperated.

Sirius shrugged and stretched. "As I said, no one you need to concern yourself over." Striding across the room he grabbed the parchment and stuffed it back into the bag. "Now stop digging through my stuff, will you?"

"Ok, ok! I was only looking for a textbook." James sighed and flopped down in the vacant chair next to Peter. "You might try telling us things occasionally, Sear."

"I'm engaged to Snape."

"Eurgh, Sirius, I had just eaten!"

"You said to tell you something," Sirius grinned.

"I meant something that was true and wouldn't involve me throwing up my dinner," James complained, as Peter shook his head in disgust and turned back to his sketchbook. Rolling his eyes, the dark haired boy propped his feet up on the table. "And where are you off to at this hour, anyway?"

"None of your business."

"Is it to meet this 'RL'?" James grinned and fluttered his eyelashes. "Oooh, having a secret affair, Siri, how dashing."

"Shut it before I shut it for you," Sirius grumbled, good naturedly, making for the portrait hole.

"Yeah, whatever Romeo," James waved a hand after him. "Fly! Fly to thy Juliet!" He laughed as Sirius's string of obscenities was cut off by the click of the portrait hole and the loud admonitions of the Fat Lady.

"So, where do you think he's really off to?" Peter asked, putting his pencil down.

"No idea, mate, but as fellow mischief makers, it is our sworn duty to follow him." James leapt to his feet, one hand outstretched, pointing. "To the mischief machine, my good chum!"

"You mean the invisibility cloak?"

"…Yeah."

Peter sighed. "I should never have let you watch television," he said, mournfully.

AaAaAaAa

Remus was quietly marking essays in his office when the knock at the door sounded. Sighing, he put his quill down and rubbed his forehead, aware of the headache building in his temples.

"Yes, come in."

Having expected to see McGonagall or Flitwick, it came as something of a shock when Sirius pushed open the door, then shut it swiftly behind himself, leaning against it with crossed arms. His expression was calm, if slightly defiant, and his hair was still loose, falling around his face and over his shoulders. His school robe had been abandoned, as had his tie, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing the pale column of his throat.

"What do you want, Sirius?" Remus carefully sorted the essays into a pile, refusing to look at the student after that first, stunned glance. "If it's more help with schoolwork, I'm afraid I'm terribly busy at the moment, so you'll have to come back another time."

"It's not that." Sirius was still leaning against the door, watching him, gaze heavy.

"Then what is it?" Standing up, Remus picked up a book from his desk and moved across to the bookshelf. He had just put it back in its correct place when a warm hand covered his own, pressing it against the leather spine, and an arm wrapped around his waist.

"I came to see you." Sirius' lips were soft against the nape of his neck, his body warm at Remus's back, and, the werewolf realised as his stomach jumped, his hair was brushing his cheek. "I said I would, didn't I? I thought you could use the company."

Remus shivered as hot breath blew over his skin. "We can't do this, Sirius. Saturday was a stupid mistake."

"Was it?" The smile in Sirius's voice was evident as the arm wrapped around Remus's waist tightened, the hand sliding spread-fingered across the werewolf's hip. "You kissed me back, Professor, deny it all you want, but your first reaction was your most honest."

Remus was frozen, torn between wanting to push Sirius away and pull him closer. 'I must look ridiculous,' he thought, 'standing here like this – one hand in the air like an idiot. I'm an adult, I should have control of the situation.' Behind him, Sirius sighed, pressing closer, mouth placing a gentle kiss against the skin of the werewolf's neck.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Sirius, this is a mistake." Remus drew a deep breath as the kisses trailed slowly upwards. "I'm your teacher, stop right now."

"No." Sirius's other hand dropped, to slide across Remus's belly as he planted a final kiss, then swung Remus around to face him. "Couldn't stop thinking about you," he repeated.

"Be that as it may…" Remus began, and was cut off as Sirius kissed him.

Heat flared in his body, pooling low in his stomach as Sirius moaned, shifting closer. Rough-gentle fingers combed through his hair and Remus found his eyes had closed. A warm tongue played along the seam of his lips, begging for entrance and, without thinking, he opened his mouth. His hands, which had been resting loosely at his sides, flew up, cupping the sides of Sirius's face as teeth gently nibbled his lower lip. The kiss was soft, delicate, almost pleading, and it was certainly not something Remus would have expected from the likes of Sirius Black.

There was a sigh – was it him or Sirius? He wondered dizzily – and he found himself pushed back against the bookcase, the weight of Sirius's body driving the air from his lungs as the kiss turned into something fiercer, more possessive. Tongues tangled and Sirius whimpered into his mouth as Remus gripped the other man's head, pulling him sharply, tugging him closer.

Fire raced through Remus's veins at the whimper and he growled, teeth finding and twisting Sirius's lower lip, not gentle – not any more. If he had expected his student to yelp in surprise and back away, perhaps suitable chastened, he would have been wrong. Sirius simply made a noise, low in his throat, half groan, half something purely animalistic, and pressed closer still, one arm wrapping around Remus's neck as his leg shifted, moving until he was practically climbing Remus, the other hand buried in the front of the teacher's soft black robe.

Remus broke away from the kiss, panting harshly. "And that, Mr Black, is why you are leaving. Now."

"I'm not leaving." Sirius' eyes were glittering, desire darkening them as he stared at Remus, licking his lips.

Remus growled and shoved him backwards, control barely there and lust confusing his normally ordered mind. He could, however, hang onto one thought. "I am your teacher. When they find out…"

"If," Sirius corrected him, jumping up to perch on the edge of the desk, knees apart as he held out his arms. "If they find out, Remus. And they're not going to." His expression was the one he had worn during class, Remus realised, and it was, without a doubt, an invitation.

"You're crazy, Black." The whisper was harsh, and Sirius threw back his head, laughing, arms still outstretched.

"Of course I am." He smiled and leant back a little. "Crazy as they come."

"Crazy…" But Remus had taken a step forwards, then another and Sirius grabbed his hands tugging him closer until he was wedged between trouser-clad legs, lips bare centimetres from the other's.

"So, Remus, changed your mind?" Sirius's breath was coming in short, sharp pants as he shifted on the edge of the desk, wrapping his legs around Remus, hands gripping the teacher's shoulders.

"No." Remus's eyes were blazing as he stared at Sirius. "You're trouble, Black, everyone knows that. What do you want from me? What could I possibly have that you need?" He snarled, lips inching nearer, until he was leaning fully against Sirius, half pressing him back into the desk. "Why me?"

And Sirius laughed, pulling him that final few centimetres.

Papers scattered everywhere, falling from the desk like a startled flock of birds as Sirius tumbled backwards onto the table, tugging Remus with him. The inkpot fell off of its stand, crashing to the floor with the tinkling sound of broken glass and the pile of books that had been perched precariously on one end toppled over with a dull thud, their leather covers slapping against the stone floor.

Remus saw none of this – heard nothing except the low moan that bubbled from between Sirius' lips. The taller boy was writhing beneath him, keening into his mouth as Remus trailed careful fingers down the side of his neck and across the swoop of his collarbone.

"Oh…oh gods…" Sirius had torn his mouth away from Remus's, pulling back so that he could look up into the teacher's face. Remus was half lying on him, and through the layer of clothing, he could feel the tempting brush of another body, hard length rubbing against hard length. He had one brief moment to wonder where the quiet, shy teacher he had known had gone, before Remus's lips descended on his throat, teeth gently scraping skin before there was the sensation of wet, open-mouthed kisses.

'Meant for this to be the other way around…' Sirius thought dizzily as he felt slender fingers scrabble at his shirt for a moment before tearing open the buttons. A wet tongue trailed across the hollow of his throat as Remus undid the last part of his shirt, half pushing it off of his shoulder. 'Who…oh…who knew he would be this good?' He moaned, unashamedly, and bucked his hips as Remus paused, worrying a nipple.

The teacher whimpered, distracted by Sirius's reaction, and shifted back up for another kiss.

'Shouldn't be doing this…' Remus thought, even as Sirius hissed, writhing against him, his taller body sprawled across the desk. 'Shouldn't be…' He sighed as Sirius' legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back, pressing him closer. 'But…it's Sirius…' This last thought with a kind of awe and he paused, drawing back to look at his student.

Flushed, his hair pooling on the desk, his white shirt half hanging off and his erection pressing against his trousers, Sirius looked like the epitome of sex. Writhing, his hands were already reaching out again for Remus, hungry for contact. As he was pulled close, Remus was surprised to feel quick, clever fingers pushing his robe off of his shoulders and beginning to unbutton his shirt.

Underneath him, Sirius moaned; a low, hungry sound as his hands discovered warm skin…

It took Remus a moment to realise someone was pounding on the door, and yet another moment to place the voice that was inquiring politely through the thick wood, to be that of little Professor Flitwick. Shoving Sirius away abruptly, he ignored the taller man's moan of protest and began frantically buttoning his shirt and straightening his robes. Indicating for Sirius to do the same, he cleared his throat and glanced quickly at his reflection in the office window.

His hair and clothing were rumpled and his face was flushed, but apart from that, nothing appeared too suspect. Sirius, on the other hand, was still fighting with his shirt, and Remus jumped as Flitwick knocked again.

"Remus, are you alright?"

"Yes…yes…just a minute!" Raking a hand through his hair, Remus shot one last glance to make sure Sirius looked at least marginally presentable, and flung open the door.

"Oh!" Flitwick beamed up at him. "Awfully sorry to disturb you, Remus, but I heard the most awful crash coming from your office, followed by the most horrific sounds and I wondered whether you were injured or something."

"Ah, no." Remus smiled, still slightly dazed. "Mr Black and I were just, um, sorting out a Boggart that had got itself trapped in my old packing case. Since Sirius said he needed the practice, I agreed to let him help me get rid of it."

"I see, I see." Flitwick peered around Remus, eyes wide. "Made an awful mess, didn't it?"

"What? Oh, yes. That. Well, er…"

"I'm afraid of whirlwinds," Sirius broke in, smoothing his hair and tucking it behind his ears. "Professor Lupin's office suffered because of it." He grinned, tightly.

"Well, sorry to disturb you then, Professor." Flitwick squeaked. "I'll leave you to it, eh?"

"Actually," Remus broke in quickly, "We had finished. Would you mind escorting Mr Black back to his dormitory, Professor? I don't want him to get into trouble on my account."

"But – " Sirius began, then sighed. "Oh, fine."

AaAaAaAa

Once Flitwick had deposited him in front of the Fat Lady, Sirius sank to the floor, resting his chin on his knees.

He hadn't meant for the situation to get so out of hand. He'd only meant to irritate Lupin a little, yet when he'd kissed him… he shivered. And that hadn't been all, either. When he'd stood at the front of the class, he'd been burning – he'd wanted the teacher to touch him. Then there was the parchment…

'What the hell's wrong with me?' he wondered. 'I didn't feel like this yesterday. Hell, I didn't feel like this, this morning!' He scowled, and the Fat Lady coughed, politely.

"Are you going in or not, dear?" She enquired.

Shrugging, Sirius climbed to his feet, gave the password and pushed open the portrait door. As he shut it, his gaze met the accusing glare of James Potter, who was sitting in an armchair, clearly waiting for him. In one hand he had held the invisibility cloak, in the other, a crumpled piece of parchment. Peter was standing behind James, his expression half guilty, half angry, as he stared at the floor.

"You," James said quietly, "have a lot of explaining to do."

To Be Continued…
CB:
And once again, my apologies for waiting so long for this chapter. I've been so drowned in work recently, this is the first opportunity I've had to write.