Hello my lovelies!

I'm so, so glad most people liked the last chapter! Oh, you have no idea how happy I am about that. SO HAPPY.

This chapter is kind of a collection of happy snippets from several perspectives. I have however saved something special for the next chapter and hopefully you all like it.

ALSO. It still baffles me that so many people follow this story. (I am freaking out slightly that FTT is two reviews away from 1k...how did this happen? How?! I am endlessly grateful for all of you.)

Please leave a review and let me know what you think ;)

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.

Saturday, February 14th, 1976

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Hogsmeade Weekend

"Remind me why I'm blindfolded again?" Remus grumbled, scrunching up his nose as he slowly walked forward—Hermione's hand was on his lower back, gently guiding him towards his surprise.

"Because I have a surprise for you," Hermione said, leaning upwards and nipping the bottom of his earlobe. Remus growled lowly in response, twisting and moving to grab her but she jumped just out of his reach—laughing gaily before slipping her hand into his and tugging him around the bend behind her.

A radiant grin lit up her face once she realised that they had reached their destination: the Room of Requirement. The stone wall looked unassuming as per usual—Hermione stopped Remus in his tracks before he kept going and slammed directly into the hard surface (he was already feeling particularly horrid because of the Full Moon tomorrow, and she didn't want to add bruising his pretty face to his list of ailments).

Hermione closed her eyes and imagined a large oak door, strong and sturdy, slight cracks in it as the wood tried to bend after years and years; her eyes snapped open and the massive, ornate door was right there before her—elaborate metal members wove across the wood holding it all in place.

Hermione faced her boyfriend with a happy smile, biting her lip, "you can take off your blindfold now," Hermione instructed.

The corner of Remus's lips curled upwards, and his long fingers made quick work of the black piece of fabric—easily unknotting it and slipping it from in front of his eyes. Remus toyed with the blindfold between his fingers, cocking his head at his girlfriend and raising an eyebrow.

"Thought we'd stay away from all the loud noises today and have a quiet day in. Happy Valentine's Day, my sweet Moon," Hermione explained as she stepped into him, plucking the blindfold from his hand and she deftly wrapped her arms around his neck.

Remus grinned crookedly, his arms encircling her waist as he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her lips, "you know...I think I'm feeling better."

"Is that so?" Hermione smiled gently, she tightened her grip on him, her hazel eyes boring into his, "prove it."

A wicked grin spread across the werewolf's features and there was a mischievous promise in his eye as he bent down just enough to pick her up around the back of her thighs and throw her over his shoulder.

"Remus Lupin!"

The wizard in question ignored his witch and made his way for the door and to the comforts that awaited them inside—he planned on making sure Hermione knew just how much she meant to him, all day long.

The echoes of their laughter rebounded and twirled down the corridors on the Seventh Floor, the only thing that was left to indicate that they'd been there at all was a tiny pool of black fabric.

James Potter has a stupid face, Lily thought mentally, vaguely registering that her date was talking, but for some reason she found herself peeking just over his shoulder to where James and Mary were snuggled together in a booth towards the back of the Three Broomsticks—there was a lovely bouquet of Marigolds laying on the table that the boy had gifted his Hufflepuff girlfriend.

Lily didn't know why her eye twitched when they began snogging and heavily petting each other in their dark, cozy little booth. It was outrageous, downright indecent. Shoving his tongue down her throat in public.

Lily tried to pay attention to her own date—David Miller, a kind Sixth Year Hufflepuff that oozed consideration, with dreamy brown eyes and messy, short hazelnut curls and when he smiled dimples imprinted themselves in his slightly round cheeks. He was quite a bit taller than her, lean with large hands that she had let slip under her blouse a couple times (they'd been seeing each other for a few months now, and he'd blushed when he asked permission to do it).

Lily didn't know what was wrong with her: David was a gentlemen, he was sweet—which was evident by the arrangement of blood red Roses and snowy Carnations he'd given her when they met outside the pub a couple hours ago. (Lily was absently fiddling with the petals on one of the Carnations as she firmly fixed her gaze on David, her vision blurring as her eyesight slipped out of focus.)

David liked her, he liked her alot. Yet, yet, she couldn't stop staring at Potter's stupid face. Well, what she could see, cause the Auburn hair of his girlfriend was partially obscuring her view from here.

Lily desperately tried to focus on David, nodding and adding whatever she could to the conversation. Until she couldn't it anymore, and she needed, something, anything to distract her: so she abruptly leaned across the table—feeling her flowers bend slightly under the weight of her upper body—and crushed her mouth against David's. He didn't kiss her back at first, still a bit shocked, but then he was kissing her softly—treating her like one of the delicate flowers he'd gifted her with.

She wasn't going to think about James Potter or his stupid face anymore. She especially wasn't going to think about how for a split second it was her in that booth with him and not Mary.

"It's quite cold isn't it?" Mary murmured as she and James stepped out of the warm cocoon the Three Broomsticks had enveloped them in, into the frigid cold.

"The fog is a lot thicker now then when we got here too," James commented absently, wrapping an arm around Mary.

A soft smile touched her lips as she looked up at her boyfriend—his gaze however was locked on something a little ways away on the path back to the Castle. Mary followed James's line of sight and the crimson red hair stuck out like a sore thumb amongst their hazy surroundings.

The girl in question had just laced her hand through her date's.

David Miller. He's nice, he bakes nice chocolate chip cookies, Mary mused, pursing her lips.

Mary glanced back at James, and what she saw made her clutch her Marigolds to her just that much tighter. James was looking at Lily with an enchanted, goofy look on his face, eyes wistfully following her movements.

Mary swallowed thickly. James loves her, this she knows, but there's a connection between the two lions that is undeniable.

"James," Mary said.

James's head snapped toward her, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled—just like that, the hearth in her heart is lit ablaze once more, it really will hurt when she has to let him go. "Yes, honey?"

"Do you want to go for a stroll before we head back to the Castle?"

James hugged her closer to him, "I'd love that."

Mary giggled as her lion pressed a chaste kiss to her temple, and she buried her nose in her Marigolds, letting their sweet smell engulf her senses.

It would hurt, but for now she would enjoy her beautiful lion whilst she could.

Peter sighed heavily.

The clouds were a never-ending monotonous grey that shrouded most of the sunlight from peeking through: it was a bleak and grey day—it was almost as if the sky had burrowed into his mind and was reflecting his emotions perfectly.

In the distance he could make out the blurred edges of the first buildings on the outskirts of Hogsmeade through the thick fog that had rolled in. He shoved his cold fingers into his jacket pocket and squinted ahead of him only to see some of the wix milling about.

Peter kicked a pebble out of his way just as heavy footsteps came pounding on the path behind him, and loud laughter pealed out of multiple mouths; he glanced over his shoulder just in time to catch sight of two Third year girls sprint past him.

He watched them run towards the village with a wistful expression on his face. They were still so innocent and naive. His bitterness of being dateless and alone today crept in and shrouded him in darkness. (Normally it was a massive group of them, and they would break off into pairs or smaller groups at some point, and Draco ordinarily asked Peter to go with him to Hogsmeade early—then they would meet the others or Draco would go in search of his Slytherin girlfriend.)

The cold fog sliced through his jacket and stabbed directly into his chest. His mind travelled to darker places, to his Father's words during Christmas break, to his Mother's jarring and wet cough that echoed throughout the house and followed him wherever he went.

Peter was so wrapped up in his dark thoughts that he didn't notice the two witches in front of him—which is why he crashed right into the mocha skinned witch, who rather adeptly caught herself and stopped them both from tumbling to the ground.

"Bloody hell! Watch where you're going, mate—" Kira started, blue eyes sparking with annoyance before she realised who had slammed into her.

"Pete! Why do you look like someone pissed in your butterbeer?" Kira asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

Peter's eyes widened as he noted how close they were and how they were still touching, so he quickly stepped back from the witch—the warmth that exploded from her skin broke through the cold draped around him and suddenly it didn't seem so bad anymore. "S-S-Sorry. I was wrapped up in my thoughts and wasn't watching where I was going," he blurted out in a mad rush, raising his hands in surrender.

Kira's frown melted in a bright smile, and she glanced to her right at Nancy—Nancy's dead straight strawberry blonde hair had grown out the last few years and was brushing the middle of her back, even though she constantly commented on how she wanted to chop it all off, and her melted caramel coloured eyes were flicking between Kira and Peter before a small smile graced her delicate features.

"We were just on our way to Honeydukes and then to the Three Broomsticks, you want to join us?" Nancy asked kindly, stepping towards Peter and placing a slender hand on his shoulder.

Peter blinked blankly for a few moments before he processed the petite girl's offer, and when it finally passed through the grinding gears in his head, his mouth moved without any prompting and out came, "I'd love to!" He winced internally afterwards at how eager it sounded, and he averted his eyes.

That was until Kira ducked her head down and met his eye, "well then let's go then!"

Peter soon found himself being pulled along by two warm and jubilant witches, both excited to get out of the cold and to stock up on sweets before enjoying a beverage at the Leaky. Their excitement was infectious, and he almost forgot about the dark rain cloud trailing behind him overhead. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad day after all.

Sunshine.

Despite the less than pleasant weather, Sirius didn't notice it one bit because he was too enraptured with the witch snuggled into his side.

Riley had insisted that instead of spending time in Hogsmeade, that they meander around the village, but after leaving the Castle they had gotten sidetracked and ended up out by the Black Lake.

They found a log to situate themselves on, and they'd been here for hours, bundled together for warmth—in between jokes, soft kisses and mirthful conversations time had passed all too easily. At point Riley gathered Sirius's hands in hers and breathed heavily on them, her hot breath warming his appendages.

"How'd you get this?" Riley asked quietly, voice barely above a whisper—his hands were grasped in hers and she was rubbing a thin, jagged scar on the top of his hand with her thumb.

Sirius stiffened, his gaze lowering to his hand, his Mother's shrill scream echoing in his memories. To be fair she hadn't meant to cut him: she had paused in cutting her roast up, sharp eye turning on him as she jabbed the knife at him threateningly. It was one of the nights Orion hadn't been home and Regulus was sleeping over at their grandfather's house—Pollux Black. It also didn't help that she was highly inebriated that night.

"Accident," Sirius supplied softly.

Riley's big eyes flicked back up to his face—he still wasn't looking at her—and she squeezed his hands tightly, "okay."

Sirius took a deep, shuddering breath before his eyes finally raised to meet hers: Sirius Black bared his soul to the petite girl—she was a soothing balm for the broken boy.

Riley didn't say anything else before closing the distance between them and pressing her lips to his, silently speaking volumes.

Riley Paddington understood him in ways he wasn't sure even James did, and whilst it frightened the fuck out of him, it was strangely comforting at the same time. In that moment it was if their souls were singing gently to each other, entwining, and this intangible length of thick rope was slithering around them and tying them together.

It was almost as if they were meant to be.