A/N: I wanted so badly to get an update out before the New Year, and I've just about made it! A few of you are getting antsy for some real Cheryl and Sirius action, and, frankly, so am I... So in the spirit of that, I really hope this chapter gives you at least a little bit of what we've been waiting for (to help make up for the time it's taken me to post it, also)

I really hope all of you had a fantastic Christmas if you celebrated it, and are doing as well as possible given the circumstances! The world is so strange and scary right now. Hopefully this update gives you the same sort of momentary escape as it gave me writing it.

Happy New Year guys! Let's hope it brings positivity.

BlackElectric x

Mr Wolf

There's a famous kid's game called 'What's the time, Mr Wolf'?

You have to sneak up to the person playing as the 'wolf' while he has his back to you, but as soon as he turns around, you freeze in place so he doesn't spot you edging closer towards him.

I couldn't help but think it was a half-decent analogy for Sirius and I.

Every time we shared a moment it was as if he managed to get an inch closer to me than before, until I finally realised what was happening and bolted my emotional gate on him.

And then he would do something so completely unexpected that it would make my gate gradually unlock, and he would get even closer, and then the same thing would happen all over again.

I knew one day there would be no way to lock him out, because he'd already be on my side of it. But that idea made me way too anxious to linger on.

Besides, it almost seemed like he was enjoying treating me like one of the boys. Slapping my back and calling me buddy. Please.

Trying to silence my inner nagging voices, I rolled over onto my side in bed and closed my eyes against the moonlight peeking in through the crack in the curtains.

.o.

As I walked to Defence Against the Dark Arts the next day, I could only vaguely hear Marlene's voice chattering in the background at my side.

My stomach was tying itself in knots imagining what it would be like to see Jesse again after the last time we'd seen one another at the train station; the unfortunate setting of our break up.

Even though he'd sent me a surprisingly lovely Christmas card, it was one thing to communicate with him in writing, and another thing entirely coming face to face with him.

"Ooh, I wonder if Mison will be teaching us today!"

Marlene's voice finally managed to grab my attention.

"Oh wow, I completely forgot," I replied. He had said he'd be coming back after the holidays, he just hadn't specified a date.

"Hope he is back," she continued, "Can't wait to see him. Professor Shahrivar is alright and all, but I miss my boy."

I breathed a laugh at her referring to our mid-thirties DADA Professor as her 'boy'.

As soon as we set foot in the classroom, we both took a few quick, long steps so we could see who was sitting at the Professor's desk.

What we found there was actually a little surprising.

Both the temporary substitute, Professor Shahrivar and Professor Mison were stood together, poring over a text book and talking in conspiratorial voices.

Shahrivar was wearing another one of her patterned silky scarves with her long dark hair tumbling over it in waves. Mison leaned closer into her and said something under his breath, and she let out a sing-song laugh, her eyes closing with the force of it.

"They're flirting..." Marlene said, clocking what I'd seen for myself. A slow grin had started to appear on her face, quickly replaced by a scrunched up look of confusion, "I don't get it, if Mison's back why is she still here anyway?"

"She's probably filling him in on what he's missed while he's been away," I said.

Marlene blew a snort through her nose. "Oh I bet she is."

As Shahrivar responded to him, Mison's mouth pulled upwards in a wide smile that showed off the faint dimples in his cheeks, and I was unspeakably happy to see how well he looked in comparison to when he'd been lying half-dead in the hospital wing.

The skin around his eyes was still slightly darker than it used to be, but it was easy to see he was already back to his normal weight, and his hair and clothes were both immaculate; almost like he was over-compensating for the dirt and grease he'd had to put up with for the two months he'd had to spend in the makeshift dungeon.

"Never seen Mison flirt before," Marlene observed, leading the way to our seats and talking far too loudly. "He's a bit of a smooth operator underneath all of that shirt starch, isn't he?"

"Mmm," I replied distractedly, scanning the room for Jesse.

Well he wasn't sat in our usual seat that was for sure.

Swinging myself into the empty table for two, I continued to peer around me while Marlene dropped down next to me.

With no more Professor Military and his seating plan, we were officially free to sit wherever we pleased now. And it seemed that it pleased Jesse to sit anywhere except for next to me.

After glancing all the way around the classroom, I finally spotted him next to Elliot, a loudmouth Gryffindor who was currently talking at him animatedly.

Elliot hadn't seemed to notice Jesse's disinterest, which was hidden behind his mildly polite expression as he listened to what was no doubt drivel, but I had got to know his face extremely well by now.

I could tell he probably would've liked to have pinched a peg on Elliot's lips to get him to shut up, if he hadn't been far too nice to even consider that of course.

As if he sensed me watching him, Jesse's dark brown gaze met mine across the classroom, and he became still for a moment.

Knowing I had to do something, I made a huge effort to smile. I wasn't sure if I imagined his stare soften slightly, but still all he gave me in return was a nod. Short and curt, like the kind you'd give a stranger when you passed them in the street.

Not at all like the way you'd greet someone whose mouth you knew the ins and outs of.

Once Professor Shahrivar had finished explaining what she'd taught us in Mison's absence and left him to get on with it, the rest of the lesson felt like he'd never been away.

The topic was resisting the Imperius curse, and it felt a little too on the nose to be coincidence, considering what had happened with Ant.

Obviously we weren't allowed to cast the actual curse itself, but Mison taught us some equally strong, but perfectly safe and legal alternatives to use in place of it for us to practise with.

Marlene was irritatingly excellent at resisting a lot of my attempts at attack, and I found I really had to put the effort in to get past her magic.

I knew it would take me a bit of practice to master, just like most of the other spells I'd learnt over the years, but hey, persistance is almost as good as real talent, right?

.o.

"Did you have a nice Christmas, Cheryl?" Professor Mison asked as I passed his desk to leave once the lesson was over.

He peered up at me briefly over the top of gathering his belongings together and putting them into his ever so slightly weathered satchel. He'd had it since we were in first year at least.

"It was good, thanks," I replied, hesitating before adding tentatively, "You're looking a lot better..."

He swung the filled bag over his arm and smiled wryly.

"That's very nice of you to say. I'm feeling a lot better, I'm please to report. Well, as much as I possibly could be, of course, considering the circumstances. The recurring nightmares are something I could very much do without..."

He looked like he hadn't meant to share quite that much, and picked up his coat briskly.

"Anyway, off you go," he gestured with it, "Don't want to get locked in the classroom now, do you?"

He gave me a dimpled grin and I did as he had said, joining the queue of students waiting to leave.

Once the door was opened we all shuffled out in a long line.

I looked behind me, trying to spot where Marlene had got to, but found a pair of eyes looking directly back at me.

Jesse quickly turned his head away, pretending to be looking at something in the other direction. I hadn't realised he was right behind me in the line.

Not wanting to make things more awkward, I copied him, moving my head back to the front.

For the next 30 seconds that it took us all to funnel out of the door, all I could focus on was his presence behind me; wondering whether I should've tried to speak to him.

The thought chewed on my conscience, and as soon as we broke free of the classroom I made the on-the-spot decision to turn back around.

"Thank you for the Christmas card," I blurted out, causing him to look at me with wide eyes. "It was cute, with the cat on the front and-"

"-Yes, well you sent me one," he shrugged, cutting me off.

"I know that," I said, a little less certain, "But you still didn't have to do it. I appreciated it."

Jesse's expression had become unreadable.

"You are welcome," he replied eventually, "but really if you want to thank anyone you should save it for my mother. She is the one who bought the card and said I should send one back. She thought it impolite to ignore you."

You were going to ignore me? I didn't say the words out loud, but they formed in a bubble in my head.

"Right, well thanks to your mum then I guess," I said, giving an unconvincing attempt at a chuckle.

Feeling a lump in my throat, I gave him a half hearted wave, "Anyway, I'll see you later."

Unable to stand there with him any longer, I rushed away to find Marlene.

.o.

"Can you imagine what it must be like to have your limbs torn off by the creatures you care for, and still want to stay in the job?"

James was peering thoughtfully at Professor Kettleburn's wooden arm and legs while Lily, Sirius, me and the rest of the class all followed our Care Of Magical Creatures teacher towards the outdoor clearing he had prepared for our lesson.

When he reached the long, overflowing apparatus table that he'd already set up out there, Kettleburn stopped. The cages and random animal-related equipment arranged on top all looked incongruous against the wet moss, dirt and grass that surrounded the workstation.

"And it's like he doesn't even care," James continued even after poor old Kettleburn had started the lesson, completely oblivious to Potter's scrutiny. "It's like he sees being ripped apart as an unavoidable side-effect of the job or something. If that was me I'd have retired years ago. Go and spend the rest of my time with whatever was left of me."

"Bit grim," I noted, giving him a frown.

"Yes, that's horrid, James," Lily said, clicking her tongue, "Stop being so gross."

"What?" he said, pausing next to the table for two that Lily and I had stopped at, "I'm just pointing out that if I lost an eye to a rampant swarms of Billywigs, I probably wouldn't carry on using them in my classes. Not live ones, anyway," he added thoughtfully.

He rapped at the side of the metal cage that was sat on our desk, filled with two huge sapphire blue insects. Without warning, one of them burst forwards as if it had been flicked from behind, trying its utmost to sting his fingers through the bars, its backside bobbing backwards and forwards with surprising aggression.

It was a miracle he managed to pull his hand back in time.

"Nasty little blighters," Sirius said, looking at the billywig distastefully.

The boys moved towards their own table at the back and Lily and I set about making a list of the creature's attributes.

"Right, well I suppose the first thing we can list is its poisonous stinger," she said. "A nice obvious one. Then there's its bright blue colour; designed to warn off enemies."

"Ok..." I said, quickly scribbling it down. "Number 3 could be the speed it can fly," I suggested, "Too quick for Muggles to spot."

"Yes," Lily agreed. "Good one. No 4?"

We both peered at it for inspiration; it had already reverted to a docile state, looking as innocuous as a baby lamb.

Lily put her face as close to the creature as she dared and wrinkled her nose.

"Gah! No 4... smells like a Dungbomb," she pretended to write on her parchment.

I gave a snort. "Really?" Not satisfied to take her word for it, I made the mistake of bending over to stick my nose right next to it.

"Ugh! Oh Merlin, it's disgusting!" I waved my hand in front of my face to try and dispel it from my nostrils.

Lily laughed. "Well I did try to warn you!"

One of the Billywig's blackcurrant eyes moved as if to look at us, unimpressed by our appraisal.

"Did he still look unwell?" Lily asked while we were in the middle of thinking of a tenth, and final, Billywig attribute. "And how about his weight, has he managed to build himself back up?"

It took me a second to realise that she was talking about Mison.

"I mean, from what I could tell he looks better," I shrugged, "he's not covered in his own filth for a start."

"Merlin, Cheryl, with descriptions like that you were born to be a poet laureate."

"Bathing in its own faeces," I stated.

Lily gave me a second glance.

"I'm sorry?"

"Number ten," I said, lifting the quill from the parchment with a flourish. "It bathes in its own dung."

"Ah," she nodded. "Good thinking."

.oOo.

Why Merlin, why do I get myself in these situations? Please use your divine all-knowing power to shed some light on the horror show that is my life.

It had all been going so well, at the start.

Dinner had gone surprisingly smoothly for instance; I had even managed to stop myself from looking at Sirius for the entire time we were sat down, which was a record for me at that point.

It was only when Lily happened to overhear me moaning to Dorcas about our Transfiguration homework that it all tipped spectacularly on its head.

"You do realise you're sitting within reach of some of the best possible people to help you with that?" she said, holding her spoon aloft with layers of custard and treacle tart on top.

She nodded at Potter. "James is always helping me with my Transfiguration homework. He's almost as good as Professor McGonagall herself. I bet you wouldn't mind helping Cheryl with whatever she's stuck on?"

Either she didn't see or didn't care that there was a look of pure dread on her boyfriend's face at the out-of-control steam train coming his way. It was almost possible to see the exact moment that he realised there was no way for him to say no without upsetting his girlfriend.

"I've got some free time after dinner," a different voice offered from next to him. James, Lily and I all raised our eyebrows at Sirius in unison.

"Huh?" I said aloud.

He seemed to find my expression amusing. "I'm offering to help you in your time of need," he clarified. "This is usually the part where you say thank you."

"No – no it's fine," I stammered, "I'll probably figure it out eventually anyway. I don't want to-"

"Chel, you were only just telling me how you'd never be able to work it out in a million years," Dorcas said, bemused by my sudden turnaround.

"That's settled then," Sirius said, looking from her back to me. "You can call me Professor Black. In fact, I'd insist on it," he added with an exaggerated wink.

I could tell he was repressing a smirk, but I couldn't understand what he was possibly getting out of it. He hated tutoring other students, which was part of the reason the teaching staff had stopped bothering asking him to do it, despite his unbelievable - and irritating- natural propensity to excel at almost every subject.

I shook my arms out now, like a boxer readying themself for a match. For some reason I had found myself going along with the idea of 'Professor Black' and had now arrived at the library, at our agreed time of 8-o-clock on the dot, ready to meet the self-proclaimed pedagog himself.

Walking past the high-rise shelves filled to the roof with ancient books, I had just strolled past Madam Pince busy refilling one of them with previously borrowed books, her wand waving and sending each one to its rightful place with her expert precision, when I spotted him sat at one of the tables waiting for me.

"You have got to be kidding me..." I said aloud, examining his choice in outfit.

"Shhhh!" Madam Pince stopped her work immediately to glare at me, the books she had been shelving now suspended in mid-air as if they were all judging me as well.

Muttering a half-hearted apology, I continued over to where Sirius was sat, his nose firmly in a book. When I got closer I could see from the text on the front that it was upside down, and I knew immediately he was doing it for comedic effect.

"Good evening, Miss Morland," he greeted me in a weirdly clipped voice before I could say anything, placing his upside-down hardback in front of him. "Let me start by commending your punctuality, if there's one thing Professor Black despises, it's tardiness. And in addition to this-"

"What are you wearing?" I asked, unable to resist cutting him off.

Sirius's 'Professor McGonagall' impression fractured, and I could see how pleased he was with himself as he got to his feet.

"What do you think?" he asked, now completely out of character and spinning around in a full 360 degrees to give me a better view of what I could only call a costume.

My stare went from the mortarboard on top of his head down to his floor length black robes, then back up to the monocle he was wearing on one eye, a gold chain dangling from it.

He un-squinted his eyelid and let the lens fall into his hand.

"What? Don't pretend you're not impressed," he said.

Raising his monocle again, he began moving it back and forth to examine me like Sherlock Holmes inspecting a clue, his eye getting bigger and smaller in a way that was actually pretty funny. "I can see every detail on your face," he said.

I slapped his hand away.

"Why are you dressed like that?" I demanded, wondering why there weren't more people staring at him for being completely weird.

"I'm your tutor?" he said obviously. "And I have been reliably informed that this is what tutors wear."

"By who?"

"Prongs," he shrugged. "Now, take a seat," he said, resuming the clipped accent that was spookily reminscent of our Transfiguration tutor. "Professor Black does not tolerate insubordinance."

I shook my head at the way he had taken to speaking in third person, he was enjoying this way too much.

Letting out a short gust of air, I went to sit in the closest chair and watched him sit down opposite, making a show of majestically throwing his robes up into the air so as not to sit on them.

"You are really loving this, aren't you?" I asked him.

He gave me a withering look through his monocle. "Professor Black does not partake in frivolities. He undertakes everything he does with the utmost Siriusness."

Lifting the mortarboard from his head, he plopped it down onto mine at what I was sure was a jaunty angle.

"Life is dull enough, Cheryl, don't you think?" he asked, surveying his handiwork with an upturned mouth. "Now loosen up and have some fun with me. Who knows? You might actually learn something."

Reaching for a book, he slammed it down on the desk in front of me.

"Page 64," he instructed.

"Fine," I replied reluctantly, "but you're taking the monocle off," I said, pulling it from his eye before he could argue.

Alright, so I'll admit that having Sirius as a tutor wasn't really as bad as I was expecting it to be. After the initial foolishness, he actually took his role quite seriously. For him, anyway.

And he was surprisingly patient with me whenever I needed to question him on anything, which was extremely often as it turned out.

I stopped making notes to re-read the sentence I'd been copying from A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration. It had made no sense to me whatsoever.

"Sirius, what does 'You must approach this conjuring spell with full velocity' mean? Am I supposed to do it while running or something?"

Sirius laughed. "I'm almost 100% positive it does not mean that."

Moving to sit next to me, he inclined his body so he could see which part my finger was pointing to.

"Ah, see, by velocity they likely mean force," he said, thankfully speaking lower and softer than before with the awareness that he was right next to my ear. "As in, mental force."

"So I have to be mentally forceful?" I asked, my speech unintentionally mirroring his.

"Precisely. Think you're up to that, Morland? Being forceful?"

I swallowed. The way he'd said forceful sounded like it was an unspoken invite for me to handcuff him to a bed or something. The thought circled around my head once before I was able to push it away.

"Of course," I replied.

His lips curved upwards and he maintained the lack of distance between us.

"Guess I'd better write it down then," I said putting my right arm down like a wall under the pretence of making notes.

He craned his neck to check the large, round clock hung on the far wall behind us.

"Merlin, we've been at this 3 hours. I know how much you adore my company but it might be time to call it a night."

I turned to double check; sure he must've read it wrong. "Wow, that went quick..."

He grunted in agreement. "Who would've thought non-practical studying could be so much fun."

I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic so I got up from my seat and started to pile all the books that we'd used, ready to put them back.

"Don't worry about those, I'll take them."

I furrowed my brow at him. "Are you sure?"

Putting the mortarboard back on his head at an angle, he used his wand in a way that was reminiscent of Madam Pince. In an instant all of the books on the table had flown back to their proper shelves.

"I'm positive," he said. "Shall we?"

Starting to follow him out to the exit, I was stopped when the tip of my toe caught against something hard and heavy.

'Transformation through the Ages' lay at my feet. I'd forgotten I'd put it down there out of the way because it'd been taking up too much desk space.

"You go on ahead," I told him, "We missed one."

He paused before inclining his head in agreement. "Alright, see you when I see you."

Not wanting to use the same levitation technique as Sirius and Pince in case the ginormous tome accidentally clunked an unsuspecting student across the head, I checked the labelling on each high storey row until I saw the one that matched the code on the spine of the book.

I was able to spot the chasm of a gap it had come from almost immediately, and had just slotted it in when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

Swivelling around, I was shocked to find Sirius standing there. We stared at one another for a second, his stupid cap still slanted on his head.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, more shocked that I hadn't heard him approach. "I thought you were leaving."

"I forgot something," he replied.

Barely giving me chance to process what he'd said, I felt his large hands grip securely onto my waist.

With the weight of his body pressed against me, I stumbled backwards against the bookshelf, and when it forced me to come to a stop I felt him lean down towards me, the heat of his breath against my mouth, so close now, all I would have to do was tilt my head ever so slightly and our lips would touch.

He was waiting I realised, for me to make the final move. My heart was thrumming in my chest, it didn't feel real, but I was almost positive it wasn't another one of my dreams. Even so, I felt the urge to pinch myself.

"This is a mistake," I muttered, looking everywhere except for his eyes.

"Does it feel like a mistake to you?" he asked in a low voice, his hands flexing on my hips.

I forced myself to look up directly into the intensity of his gaze, taking a moment to study the colour to escape the feeling of overwhelm that threatened to descend on me. A ring of darker charcoal hugged his pupil, with a starburst of lighter silvery grey surrounding it. They were so completely unique to him. And they were watching me back, slightly narrowed and scrutinizing me as if to try and read my mind. If they could have, they would've seen it was in tumult. I was glad they couldn't.

It felt like the silence between us extended beyond time itself, but more than likely was no more than a couple of seconds.

"No," I answered finally, my voice surprising even me.

Sirius looked confused for a second, as if he was trying to remember the question. When it did, it was obvious, the realisation dawning slowly on his face.

With what was clearly a resounding green light, he started to carefully lower his face towards mine, glancing up from my lips to my eyes every so often, as if to check for any sign I'd changed my mind.

When our lips finally met I felt dizzy, disorientated, and oddly too-aware of certain aspects of my surroundings, while the rest of it felt unreachable. I closed my eyes. One of the things that stood out was his scent. Not only could I smell his aftershave, which I felt like I could easily pick out from an entire building away it had become that familiar to me, but also something else. The scent of his mouth, difficult to describe but almost like it had been designed specifically to intoxicate me; slightly sweet, but not in a sickly way – it tasted almost good enough to eat.

Much to both our surprise, I deepened the kiss, not able to get enough of the taste and smooth textures of him - his tongue and lips, so different to the slight roughness of his hands still on my waist, or the sleekness of his hair which had curtained around his face. I developed a sudden urge to touch other parts of him, every part of him, just to see how they compared. My torso and limbs were pushing and pulling us closer, and I could feel Sirius's grip tightening on me in return, becoming more urgent, the front of his body pressing me against the wall.

One of the overhanging books from the shelf that had been edging its way towards the precipice finally succumbed to gravity and fell to the floor, splaying its pages. I only vaguely registered it, and if Sirius cared then he didn't show it.

His hand started to move downwards, slowly hitching up the hem of my skirt.