I sat there on a the wooden bench in the yard, right in front of Harry's house and smiled slightly while himself and our fathers poked around at the barbeque for a good hour.

Eventually, my Mum stood up and turned it on, much to Lily's disappointment. Apparently watching your husband fail epically never got old.

Harry shrugged and walked over, sitting beside me with a can of Butterbeer in his hand. He took my empty one away and passed me the new one, while smiling to himself.

"Poisoned it?" I asked, smirking.

He shrugged "Give me some credit. If I'd of poisoned it I wouldn't be laughing. I don't give stuff away that easily."

I rolled my eyes at him and he winked. "What are you smiling at then?"

He grinned "You're wearing a dress."

I glanced down at the white cotton number I had on, and nodded "Looks like it."

"You never wear dresses."

"Sorry, Potter, I didn't realise you knew every single item of clothing in my wardrobe."

"Actually, I do. You never close your wardrobe doors so on the rare occasion the curtains aren't bound together then I get a great view of your clothes - and your underwear." He added as an afterthought.

Three years ago I would have knocked him unconscious, but I just sat there, ignoring him, waiting. You see, the thing about living so close to somebody for so long is that you pick up what they do, say and even think. You learn how you can shock them, irritate them and make them smile. It comes without any effort after a while, because every time you speak to them you learn something new about their mannerisms.

Predictably, Harry grinned. "I wish I could see you in that white bra with the pink flowers..."

I smiled "You know something Potter?"

"What?"

"You don't have to wish."

I watched as his face went through various emotional states – unsure, thoughtful, shocked, astonished and then impressed. "Really?"

I grinned, opening my mouth, before closing it again, smiling and saying softly "No."

He ran a hand through his raven hair absently as disappointment creased in his forehead. "Shame..."

I laughed lightly, opening the can and taking a sip "Not really."

"You're so ungrateful; you don't even say thank you." He muttered, putting his feet up on the small flowerbed that lilies of every colour were climbing out of.

"Coming from the most selfish person this side of Mars, you have some nerve."

He grinned, "That's why everybody loves me."

I mimed being sick before going to stand up, but he pulled me back down with one hand. He failed to remove his hand from its position on my leg and I had to do it for him, a tad more forcefully than was absolutely necessary.

He winked "I don't mean it, Gin. I know you're not really a sex object."

I raised my eyebrows, shocked that he was actually being so sincere for a change.

"Yeah, I mean it." He muttered, standing up as the Weird Sisters started up out of my Dad's radio. He reached out and took my hand, pulling me through various members of my family and their close friends.

I don't know why I didn't stop him as we ducked between the arms of Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin. I don't know why I didn't shake his hand away, or why, when we were in the narrow gap between our windows where no one could see and he pulled me very close and mumbled "Dance with me?" I didn't recoil. Instead, a series of Goosebumps erupted all over my body.

We must've danced for a long time, his body close to mine as the Weird Sisters blasted away. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours; it could have been days. When the music stopped the narrow strip of sky above our heads was as pink as the lilies climbing the walls around us. The breeze continued to sway as I dropped his hands and smiled.

"You've improved since we were six. I'll give you that."

He hit my arm lightly "The tree was in the way then, I didn't mean for you to be sent flying through my kitchen window."

I winced; "Not a great Christmas."

He shook his head. "We've had better."

"Actually, we've never had a good Christmas. There have been better Christmases I'm sorry I'm such an arse all the time."

I smiled slightly, knowing how much effort that must have taken. "I think I need to sit down..."

He laughed softly "Seriously; I don't mean for you to hate me."

"I know. You can't help being an arrogant sod."

He hit me again, on my hip this time "Come on they'll be wondering where we are..."

I nodded and followed him out, along the path I knew so well.

"Ron!" He shouted, and my brother ignored him. "Oi! Weasley!"

I smirked slightly as nine heads turned to face him and he got all confused, before running over to the Weasley he actually wanted to talk to. A very small part of me wanted to run after him, but I was distracted by a strong hand landing on my shoulder.

"All right, Gin?" A voice I hadn't heard for a while asked.

I turned around and threw my arms around Sirius Black, possibly my favourite of the three original Marauders.

"Where've you been? Hang on..." His eyes traced the space between myself and his only godchild, before he let out a barking laugh "You and Harry?"

I kicked him hard in the shin "Shut the bloody hell up would you? No, not me and...Harry."

"You just said his name."

"Well done Einstein."

"Who?"

"Doesn't matter..."

He shrugged and lead me over to the garden pond, pulling a hip-flask out of his robe. "Have some of this; you look like you bloody well need it."

I took it off him, my painted fingernails grazing over the emblem of the black family crest. Sirius saw and swore under his breath. I sighed, taking a swig and then patted him on the back. Whatever it was stung my throat but I was more interested in the look on his face.

"You all right?" I asked slowly, after the fire in my throat had subsided.

"Yeah I'm fine. I don't need my family; I have yours. Anyway; you and Harry?"

"I've just answered that."

"Oh right, so how long has it been going on?"

"Sirius!"

He hit my arm playfully and wondered off, leaving me with the hip-flask and my thoughts.

...

That night I undressed in the bathroom and sat on my bed in my pyjamas, reading a book I'd been set over the holidays. The words suddenly began to squirm all over the page as I felt a pair of eyes on the back of my neck. I didn't have to be a genius to know that they would be emerald, and probably amused.

I turned around to see Harry, leaning against the wardrobe at the back of his room, less than ten feet away. He was smiling, but not in the cocky arrogant way he normally shared with us all, this time it was a sincere smile; the one he had when he looked at his parents, the one he had when Remus had told him a few weeks ago he wanted to make him a godfather to their baby, the smile that came from his mother...that very few people had ever seen.

He caught my eye and changed his expression, wondering over to his beside cabinet. "I meant what I said before. I really am sorry that you hate me." He didn't have to say it loud, many years of communicating (mainly arguing) like this had taught us that we could probably still hear each other through the windows, if they were closed, on a calm evening.

I smiled dryly "And I'm sorry you're such a jerk."

A flash of amusement passed over his face, telling me he knew I was only half joking "Night Night, Gin."

"Night...Harry."

He winked, before sitting on the bed that was less than four feet away and closing the curtains. I put my book on the bedside cabinet and fell back onto my pillows, not even caring that my own curtains were, for a change, still wide open.

X

Any good? I know Harry's an arse, but I think he probably would be with James Potter bringing him up.

Review it!