Christmas was always a wonderful time at Hogwarts. It had a - for lack of a better word - magical quality. At least, it was better than being constantly reminded of what a disgrace to the Black family name he was. Sirius was glad of this; he had never been proud of his surname, nor the heritage that came with it.
Sirius lay in a deep sleep, as were his friends. None would be easily awaken in their current state. Sirius' mind was swept into dreamland as he slipped further and further into unconsciousness. And he wasn't alone.
He could see a figure in front of him - a girl - but she had her back turned. His eyes traced her gentle, perfect curves and flowing auburn locks. He was desperate to reach out and touch her, but she may disappear. In the low light of the enchanted candles, it was hard to tell if she was even really there.
"Sirius," she breathed. Surely he couldn't have imagined that?
And she knew that he was here; she could feel his presence. She turned slowly to face him. Sirius was rooted to the spot, as if someone had just shouted the Stickfast Hex at him. Slowly, the girl glanced up - she was quite a bit shorter than him - and he could see the candlelight dancing in her glistening emerald eyes. But she wasn't looking at him, her eyes were drawn to the spot above them.
"Mistletoe..." she whispered, with a slighty amused smirk spreading across her lips. Her beautiful, rose-coloured, soft lips...
The thought shocked him awake. Sirius glanced at the bed to his right; James Potter was still asleep and snoring soundly, or was that Peter?
Either way, Sirius refused to let his mind wander to the week before...and his stolen kiss from Lily Evans that now haunted his dreams. He laid on his back, staring into thin air.
'James is your best friend,' he repeated to himself, as the sound of snoring grew louder.