I woke up on the cold, bare floorboards of the Shrieking Shack surprisingly warm. My limbs ached with new scars and bruises; red welts rising already on my thin forearm, and I felt a bruise on the hip I was lying on.

My head thumped with a promising migraine and I managed to notice it was not yet morning.

And suddenly, I felt the hand around my waist. Dread filled me with adrenaline. A hand… James' hand? Peter's hand? Oh God, please not Sirius' hand.

I scrambled to my feet, trying to gather my wits about me as I prepared to survey what could only be the body of one of my best friends, hopelessly mangled by the werewolf.

Forcing myself to open my eyes, I saw Sirius' body lying peacefully on the floor, and before I had time to faint, his eyes met my gaze, and he yawned.

Relief flooding through me, I dropped to my knees and kissed his forehead, without realizing what I was doing until too late. I reeled backwards and, overbalancing, fell onto my backside. Smooth.

He shot me a quizzical look. "What did you do that for?"

Already blushing, I mumbled something about thinking he was dead, the words sounding childish as they tumbled out of my mouth.

"You thought I was dead," repeated Sirius slowly," So you kissed me. Strange thing to do, Moony."

I felt myself maddening - at Sirius, for his positive disregard to his own safety, but mainly at myself for getting into this situation. What was I doing, kissing him? Idiot.

I stood up and began pacing angrily, trying to satisfy my immediate compulsion to run. "Well, what were you playing at, sleeping in here? I'm supposed to be alone!" And with the last word, I kicked the wall. "What the hell did you think you were doing?"

Sirius surveyed me from the floor. "Just thought you could use some company, is all, Moony," he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to go to sleep with a werewolf.

I suppose what I was thinking registered on my face, for he hastily added, "You'd already transformed back. You just looked really… I don't know. Alone." His tone was apologetic, as if he'd disturbed me.

"Sirius, there's absolutely no fucking reason to stay! What if I'd hurt you? … What if I killed you?" I said quietly, the image of Sirius' still body replaying in my mind.

There was a pause. I couldn't look at him.

"Sorry, Moony."

"Sirius! I don't understand - how can you just apologise and expect me to be okay with the fact that I could easily have killed you?" I began to scream at him.

Sirius' voice rose to match mine. "Yeah, that's right, you're always telling us that we're putting ourselves in danger, being friends with you! I wanted to prove you wrong! And I did. I'm alive, aren't I? And besides… It felt good! Good, damn it!"

I barely had time to absorb these words when I heard Sirius getting up and, moments later, his footsteps receding down the corridor.

I ran onto the landing, and watched as he stormed out. As he shut the door, he looked up at me, hurt burning in his eyes.

A feeling of sickness was flowing through me, but also a little triumph.

I'd slept with Sirius Black.