Disclaimer: Fuck you!

I was sitting in class being a good student, as always. I sit attentively and am always respectful of my teachers, even though I already know everything they could ever teach me because I've read every book in the Hogwarts library, including most of the ones in the restricted section. I am able to enter the restricted section because I have an invisibility cloak and am an Animagus.

I became an Animagus in my fourth year. My mother died when I was nine and my father is abusive, so that summer Professor Dumbledore had given me permission to stay at school. I decided I wanted to become an Animagus after reading about them in a book in the library. Then I spent all summer working out how to do it and finally, one week before term was to start up again, I managed it. I can turn into swift white mare, a powerful white tiger, a large white dragon, and a small white mouse. That's right, I can turn into four different animals.

Professor McGonagall was teaching us how to transfigure our desks into pigs. I already knew how, and of course, as soon as I did it, she said, "Excellent work, Casilee, as always! Twenty points to Gryffindor!"

Sirius Black was looking at me sidelong. "Damn," he observed. Then he winked at me.

I smiled politely, shook back my mane of chestnut waves, and turned away. I would never allow Sirius Black's charm to work on me.

Behind me, Crystal Bouvier, an obnoxious bitch who's totally fake and always wears a layer of thick, repugnant makeup, sighed. I was pretty sure Sirius had gotten with her in the past, but apparently one hookup hadn't been enough for that girl. Sirius, however, ignored her; I knew that he was still staring at me.

During Arithmancy, Professor Plutarch announced that we were going to be placed in pairs to work on a project.

I sighed. I had a hunch where this was going.

"Abbot and Atkins!" he shouted.

I groaned. Alphabetical order. Crap.

Sure enough, "Black and Casilee!" was Professor Plutarch's next pairing.

Sirius leered at me, and I smiled back politely, even though I was distraught.

I, partners with Sirius Black? This was exactly what I needed just now: an excuse to spend even more time with him. It was bad enough that we were in all of the same classes, bad enough that I had spent half of my childhood with him.

Hmm?

Oh yes, I forgot to mention that!

When I was younger, my mother used to drag me to tea at the Black household. I had a feeling my mother never really liked the Blacks, but attended Mrs. Black's afternoon tea parties out of obligation to my father, the bastard.

I can't even remember the first time I saw Sirius; when we were babies we napped together, when we were toddlers we sat on the floor and fought over each other's toys. Then, when I was nine, my mother died. I never found out why, though I suspect my father had a lot to do with it.

Or maybe she was just ill. I don't know, and I've chosen not to dwell on it.

At my mother's funeral, I stood in a black dress with a large bow, my hair hanging in large curls – my grandmother's doing – over my shoulders. I had a black ribbon in my hair. I was crying silently as my mother's casket was lowered into the cold, frozen earth. My father stood next to me, utterly ignoring me. He did not cry; if anything, he looked vindictive.

The bastard.

Soon I couldn't take it anymore and turned on my heel, running away across the cold moor. Nobody came after me; I assume they figured I was mad with grief. And maybe I was.

Later, at the funeral feast in our great, dank hall, I slipped away into a side corridor. I had just sunk down against the wall when a boy entered behind me.

Sirius.

I looked up at him, tears in my eyes.

"I was wondering where you went," he said sincerely, coming over to sit beside me against the wall.

I sniffed.

We sat in pleasant silence for a few moments. I felt calmer, having him there. Then he hesitated a moment, and put his arm around my shoulders. At this, I burst into tears. I cried myself out on the lapels of his black robe.

"It's okay, Muriel," he chirped in his sweet, nine-year-old boy voice. "I'll always be your friend!"

I smiled wanly. "I know, Sirius!"

We stood up then.

"I don't want to go back to the feast," I confessed. "A feast for a funeral… it's terrible."

He nodded knowingly. "Let's climb up on the battlements!" he suggested.

This had been an activity we had done long ago, when we were perhaps five, at a tea party my mother had hosted. Then our mothers had caught us and made us swear never to climb up on the battlements again.

"You could slip and fall to your death, Muriel!" I remember my mother had said.

It felt almost insensitive to betray my mother's wishes at this point, but then I felt a new sense of confidence take hold.

For I could manage. I missed my mother dearly, but I knew that she would have wanted me to be happy. She had told me two days before her mysterious death, "All I want is for you to be happy, Muriel! Remember that!"

Perhaps she knew she was soon to die. I had no way of knowing, and still don't.

Sirius and I skipped down the hallway and up several staircases until we burst out onto the roof of my family's manor. Beyond the garden was the empty moor. My mother had once maintained a lush garden of flowers and trees, but now it was winter, and she was gone, and the surrounding yard was dull and frozen.

Sirius and I clambered onto the battlements. It was a bit slippery, and suddenly he grabbed my hand as one of his feet gave way. I laughed, the first time I had laughed since my mother's death, and he grinned back as he pulled himself up onto a higher peak.

We sat atop the battlements for a long time, huddled against the biting cold, and I was reassured by the knowledge that I would always have Sirius to comfort me.

Psh, as if!

When we started Hogwarts, he was nice to me for about two weeks, and then promptly started to ignore me. He had his own friends and his own troubles. I knew his family was bothering him and I wished I could have been there to help him, as he had once helped me. By the end of our first year, however, I had stopped trying. We drifted farther and farther apart.

Then, in about fourth year, the year I suddenly grew and matured and became, in the opinion of the male population of Hogwarts, "drop-dead gorgeous," he suddenly decided that he liked me again – or perhaps he had all along, but had been too shy to show it. But by this point, I had seen the manifestation of his ego and blatant womanizing. No way was I getting involved in that. He was no longer the sweet nine-year-old who had comforted me at my mother's funeral, and I knew it.

He worked his way through other girls in our year and in years below and above. Indeed, he worked his way through most of the girls in the school within a give-or-take two-year age range. But always, always, he came back to me when he had just broken up with a new girl, and tried to talk to me.

"Muriel!" he began. "Let's date!"

"No, thanks," I said.

When that didn't work, he tried a more subtle approach.

"Muriel, we used to be the best of friends! What happened?"

"You did," I replied the first time, and turned away.

Then he grew just plain desperate.

"Muriel, I'm in love with you!" Alas, he always laughed after saying this, so I was never sure how sincere he actually was.

I smiled sadly. "Oh, if only, Sirius. If only."

He never understood why I said that. I wasn't sure either, though I think it might have been a gentler version of saying the blunt truth:

"Sirius, you don't know how to love!"

That accusation would have hurt him too deeply, however, and so I always refrained.

And now Sirius Black and I are partners for this stupid project. I can't say I'm looking forward to the constant, obligatory attention.

Groan.

Reviews:

lavizsla – thank you for reviewing.

Tobias Potter – thank you; I hope so, too!

Nocturnal007 – Thanks for reviewing. I'm glad it caught your interest.

Review, please :)