A/N: Hey guys, thank you for the ongoing support, I really appreciate it! Please review and leave some love, hate, suggestions, questions, whatever! Words from you guys always motivate me to write and update. I hope you all continue sticking to this story. Happy reading, you guys! xx Sam

James and I walk out of the library as our free period comes to an end. Still talking, we almost don't notice Lily, which is a shocker considering James, making her way towards us, wearing a befuddled expression.

"Hey Lily," I greet her, on behalf of James as well who is too distracted by the redhead's pursed lips to manage speech.

"Yeah, hey Rem. I was actually gonna talk to James," she says cautiously.

I snort in unison with James, who seems to be choking on nothing. I clap him on the back, chuckling at his reaction.

Lily raises an eyebrow and smirks. "I'm messing with you. You okay there, Potter?"

James, being James, instantly recovers and shoots her charming smile. "Yeah, now that you're here," he punctuates with a wink.

She scoffs, but with a smile playing on the corners of her lips. "Right. Well, anyway, Black was asking for you. Both of you, actually."

A lump in my throat forms and I start to stammer. "W-what? Why?"

Eyeing me suspiciously, she shrugs. "Beats me, I ran into him just a moment ago, panicking about where to find you. He said something about how James told him you were gonna be at the library with Remus because I was there so when he saw that I wasn't in the library, he stalked off, muttering angrily to himself and… I don't know he seemed a bit off his rocker to be honest."

Merlin, could James not have thought of a better excuse as to why we ditched him this free period? But then again, it was hard to be convincing when conjuring up a reason as to why James Potter would spare his vacant time in the library.

James sighs. "You know how much of a drama queen he is."

Lily grins and looks pointedly at him. "Yeah, almost as bad as you. Well, anyway, I'm heading to Divination. See you later."

She passes us and continues down the hallway as James gawks at her, his eyes fixated on the scarlet locks swishing after her.

"Damn, Remus, I swear, someday..."

"You're desperate," I say before he can finish his sentence, rolling my eyes. I tug on his sleeves until he continues walking alongside me.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I haven't gotten any action in a long time, unlike some people I know," he retorts with a mocking smile on his face.

"Shut it, Prongs," I warn, glaring at him.

"So cranky. You really should avoid hangovers on the days prior to the full moon, my furry little friend."

I scowl at him once more, causing him to laugh.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, Moony. Just teasing." We stop at the intersections of two corridors as students whose classes have just finished start filling up the hallways. He points to the left, hitching his bag strap higher onto his shoulder. "I'm gonna go meet Peter for Ancient Runes. What have you got next?"

I pale as the realisation dawns on me. "Muggle Studies. With Sirius."

James shoots me a sympathetic smile. "It'll be okay, mate. Tell me what happens later, yeah?"

I nod grimly. "Sure," I mutter.

He gives me a reassuring pat on the shoulder and heads in the other direction. When he reaches the stairs, he starts up them in a hurry, probably hoping to run into Lily on the way.

By the time I reach the first floor hallway, I pause. Over the heads of the younger students crowding the hallway, I see Sirius waiting outside the classroom. He's got one foot hitched up against the wall he's leaning back on, with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Classic Sirius Black stance. As he sees me, he looks a bit off guard, but flashes me an uneasy smile and waves anyway.

I feel my heart rate pick up speed and my skin prickle as I walk towards him.

"Hey Remus," he says stiffly, albeit with a charmingly confused grin.

"Hey," I mutter, as we proceed into the classroom. The only ones here so far are two Hufflepuff girls and Alice, all of whom are already seated in the front row.

Sirius and I take our usual seats in the back corner of the room.

I clumsily set my bag down, retrieving my parchment and quill for notes. Yawning, as the sleepiness and fatigue of last night's events make themselves present again, I flip my copy of Conventions and Limitations of Non-magical Folk open in front of me and try to read the assigned chapter.

...The dependence of Muggles on Public Transport is something magical folk cannot relate to due to the presence of wizardry in the latter's community. Whereas wizards find travel an easy feat, Muggles who do not have their own private form of transportation or wish to spend less of their money on it, resort to a transport service that is made available to the general public. Most of these work around the schedule of-

I shut my book, frustrated. There was no way I can focus on this now, not when I can see Sirius casting weary glances at me in my peripheral vision, nor when the topic we're required to master is something I've grown up around, with a Muggle for a mother and everything.

I ignore the rest of the students filing in as my mind darts back to the first day of Sixth Year. I feel like kicking myself as I remember Sirius, who has always been surrounded by his family of pureblood maniacs, bouncing about, excited about taking Muggle Studies N.E.W.T. levels. Taking the class started off as something he could anger his mom about. Not only did he achieve his goal of sending his mother into a fit, but his fondness for the Muggle world grew. And I, who at the time was distracted by the elation in his voice and the beautiful light in his eyes when he talked about the class, agreed to take the N.E.W.T. levels with him when he started whining about not wanting to take it alone.

Groaning, both because of the memory and the returning headache from last night, I bury my face into my crossed arms on the table.

"Good morning, class!" a voice exclaims from the front of the classroom, loud enough to amplify the migraine, and I raise my head with a start.

Sirius, obviously having the same problem, mutters angrily under his breath and rubs his temples, glaring at Professor Quirrell.

The professor is fresh out of Hogwarts, having finished his studies only a few years ago. So because of his young age and as it is his first year of teaching, he is rather cheery all the time. This was of course, never a problem, until now, as Sirius and I flinch at his high, pitchy voice, stabbing at our headaches with every syllable.

"Fucking hell," Sirius sighs, as he opens his book. He glues his eyes to the paragraphs, underlining and jotting down messy notes on the margins in accordance with whatever Quirrell is saying, although still cringing at the pain in his head.

I feel tempted to just ask him about last night. How much does he remember? What did it mean? What do we do about it now? Are we just going to forget it ever happened? The thoughts keep circling my mind, badgering me endlessly. But before I can speak, I see the look of concentration of his face. The same expression he gets when he and James stay up all night plotting pranks. Eyes relaxed, but fixated and eyebrows slightly lifted as he absentmindedly chews on the inside of his right cheek.

Not wanting to disrupt the trance I rarely see in him during classes, much less during hangovers, I just sigh and lean back on my chair.

Why am I in such a rush to talk about it when, surely, it doesn't mean anything? We've got nothing to define and nothing to clarify except for the fact that it was one hell of a drunken mistake. As much as I loved it – really, really loved it – I need to hear him tell me that it held no truth or explanation, before wishful thinking drowns me in its merciless pit.

From the corner of my eye, I see his face light up at the mention of motorcycles and its uses and I suppress a smile. I spend the next hour pretending to listen about cabs and Muggle bus stations and pretending that my thoughts aren't focused on the spot where our knees are barely touching under the table.

"In eight inches of parchment, state examples of how Muggle vehicles comply with The Third Law of Motion when in action."

As Professor Quirell dismisses us, I jot down our homework assignment hurriedly into my notebook as Sirius awkwardly hovers over me, waiting for me to finish. I close my notebook, stashing it into my bag with my quill and book, and stand to face Sirius. Seeing that we are the only ones left in the room, I feel uneasy.

"So," I start, a feigned casual tone in my voice, "Lets head down to lunch?"

He gives me a tight smile. "Yeah, let's go."

I return his smile and head to the door, then stop when I hear a thud and notice that he isn't next to me. Turning around, I see Sirius crouched on the floor with quills, books, parchments and his thick green notebook scattered on the floor. I rush over, kneeling in front of him as he clumsily tries to stack his books, not voicing my bewilderment at his unusual neglect of just using magic to fix the mess. I gather his quills in a bunch and hand them to him, failing at keeping my cheeks from burning as our fingers barely brush.

The bag next to him catches my eye and I spot a huge rip. I grab it as he busies himself with collecting the rolls of parchment sprawled on the floor. Taking out my wand, I point at the hacked bag with a circling motion. "Reparo."

Sirius glances at his mended bag and looks at me before starting to pack his quills and parchments into it. "Thanks," he offers.

"No problem." I reach over to his surprisingly large stack of books, quickly scanning the titles. Not being able to resist a smile, I look up at him. "Since when did you do extra reading?"

Sirius eyes me and breaks into a snicker. "I'm almost offended at how shocked you seem."

"Can you blame me?" I counter playfully, beaming at him. He smiles back at me, and at that moment everything seemed back in place.

But that moment ended as the now-familiar tension revisits us.

Sirius must feel this too as he clears his throat. "So, ah, we should get going to the Great Hall now, yeah?"

"Yeah." I grab half of his books, and drop them into my own bag, handing the rest to him. "I'll carry the others for you, you seem hassled with the extra weight. Besides, I have a free period after lunch while you lot are at Care of Magical Creatures. I'll leave these on your bed while I'm at the dorm."

"Yeah, okay," he says, standing up and extending his hand to me.

Reluctantly, I take it and push myself off from the floor.

"Ah, thanks."

With a strained smile, he just nods.

We spend too much time worrying about what to say next so that it takes us several more seconds to break apart after we realize he is still holding my hand.