A few notes: First of all, this is NOT Molly Prewett/Weasley, just for the record. This is an original character with the same first name. Secondly, this is a short follow up to a longer story of mine entitled You Like Me too Much. It isn't really what I would call an epilogue. But it's worth a read. Also, it is newly revised and hopefully a lot better than before.


Molly glanced at the clock— twelve AM. He would probably be asleep by now.

Molly St. Clair walked over to her refrigerator. She opened it and moaned. Practically empty. She would have to recruit either her mother or her best friend, Lily, to help her shop tomorrow. Molly yawned. She had only just gotten back from work, and she was exhausted. She had been finishing an article that was due tomorrow. Molly was a reporter for the Daily Prophet, and she loved it. She was an honest reporter. The only times she needed to lie was if it was to protect the Order of the Phoenix, the secret society that Dumbledore had started. Molly had joined the Order as soon as Dumbledore had let her, right after she graduated Hogwarts.

'Well,' thought Molly, 'asleep or not, I'm going over there.'

She closed her eyes and apparated to her boyfriend's house. She landed on a large, warm mass, which yelped and sat up.

"What the Hell?" said a muffled voice. Molly saw the hand of Sirius Black reach out from under the covers to his wand, which lay on his bedside locker. "You'll have to take me alive!" he said, still sounding groggy.

Molly giggled. "Sirius?" she said. "Oh, I'm sorry! Are you OK?"

"Molly? Bloody Hell."

"I'm really sorry, Sirius. You know I suck ay apparating into dark bedrooms. I don't know why it's bedrooms, but—"

"Molly," Sirius said, barely able to open his grey eyes.

"Yes?"

"Get off of me."

"Oh, right," Molly said, sliding off her boyfriend. "Sorry," she added, as she lifted herself off the bed and stood up. "So, don't mind me. Just go back to sleep, there. I'll help myself."

"I can't, now," he said, sitting up and running his hands through his long shaggy hair. It was the middle of summer, and it was sweltering hot out side. He tugged at his sweaty shirt.

"That sweat ring around your neck is nice," she said. "Very flattering."

He glared at her. "Here, you can have it," he mumbled, as he lifted the shirt off and threw it at her.

"Ew!" she squealed as she dodged it. She did, however, feel her stomach flutter. You would think that, for the millionth time, seeing him shirtless or even kissing him would become a normal feeling. But it didn't. She still got that wonderful feeling of butterflies in the stomach. She was in love.

"What's up?" he asked groggily. "Everything ok?"

"I'm lonely," she pouted. "And I have no food," she added.

"Ah. The infamous My-Fridge-Is-Empty excuse."

"I'm serious," Molly said, sitting on the edge of his bed. "I have some salami and I had a few pop tarts." She crept towards him. "And I knew you wouldn't be without food here." Molly flashed him a smile.

He stared at her and ran his hands through his hair again. "Thank you. That means a lot."

"But, think of it this way!" Molly exclaimed. "Of all the places with food, I chose yours!"

"I'm honored," he said, and laid back down.

"Aw, now you're guilting me." She frowned. "That's not nice."

Molly briefly left the room and entered his small little kitchen. She opened the fridge and, for a moment, was blinded by the small light bulb within it. "Aha," she whispered. "Pudding cups."

After her feast of chocolate pudding, she walked back into the bedroom to find Sirius strewn across his bed, his face buried in a pillow. 'Of course he's asleep,' she thought, and sighed. She tiptoed over to his face and kissed him gently on the lips.

"You taste like pudding," he mumbled almost incoherently.

She smiled. "You're still awake." She walked over to the drawers and pulled out a pair of boxers and a big t-shirt belonging to Sirius. "Don't look," she said as she began to change.

Of course, it being Sirius's nature, he looked. "I've seen you in less than that, Molly—" he said, grinning.

Molly reached around for something— anything solid— and threw it at him.

"Ow! What was that?"

"It may have been a slipper," she said, and used the diversion to pull down her jeans and pull up the boxers. She pulled on the white t-shirt and climbed into his bed. "I love you," she said to him.

"You threw a slipper at me."

She smiled and moved closer to him, as close as she possibly could. The amount of love she felt for the man next to her was overwhelming, and truthfully, it scared the Hell out of her.

"I love you too, I guess," sighed Sirius, teasing her.

Molly smiled again, and said into his chest, "I'm glad."


Please review this. Even if you hated it. I would love to hear your opinion.