A/N: I will be continuing the Sirius POV for the next few chapters, like I said. This is a short chapter, I know, but I just want to get you more familiar with the inner workings of my characterization of the oblivious, emotional, mysterious boy. This isn't an important chapter to the progress of the story, but it tells you more about the characters and their relationships basically.

By late afternoon on Christmas day, I am sprawled on my bed, among torn gift wrappers and various presents lost among the sheets. I have nothing to do and the weight of it is pulling me down, permanently attaching me to my four-poster.

I usually spend this day with Regulus, but this year I can't. Thanks to my lovely mother's request.

The dormitory is empty and all I can hear is the winter breeze whistling through the cracks of our window and the faint melody of merry caroling from afar. Which means that even Remus isn't here for me to attempt hanging out with. Last time I checked, he was down at the Common Room, laughing and whispering over hot chocolate with Evans.

I know those two have always been close, that fact has saved me and James from her wrath countless times throughout the years. But lately, it seems like you can hardly drag them away from each other. Especially for the past few days with Frank and Alice home for the holidays and Ashwood starting to worry about his O.W.L.S., reminding me very much of Remus. (Honestly, if there are still months to spare, I don't why you would have to worry about it.)

Thoughts of Moony make me feel even more deflated. I miss him so much. It's just been hard to face him after that stupid kiss.

I flinch at the memory.

I've never had the best tolerance for Firewhiskey, but I still can't grasp the idea of what I did and how it felt. It was wrong beyond all reason and I honestly have no idea what was in those particularly bottles that made the alcohol strong enough for me to do that? To Moony? The memory starts flooding in clearer, too vivid for comfort, before I can help it. His soft lips tasted like Firewhiskey and chocolate. His hands were calloused but steady and warm. His hair was soft, in light brown silky locks.

I shake my head, snapping out of it. It was barking mad. It's stupid that I was drunk enough to forget what thought had possessed me to snog the daylights out of him but I can still remember how his green eyes gleamed brighter in the light of the roaring fireplace.

Alcohol can seriously make anyone do – and think – anything.

Sighing at my overworked brain, I get up and walk over to my trunk once more. I sit cross-legged and come face to face with the remaining objects on my trunk. Remus and Regulus' presents.

Picking up one of the neatly wrapped boxes gingerly, I see a familiar handwriting on the card attached it. Remus.

I pluck the card away from the packaging and start to read.

Padfoot,

I am caught off guard with the nickname, but I continue anyway.

Padfoot,

Merry Christmas, mate. I hope you're having a blast and that everything is going well (I cringe at the overcompensating politeness I sense in his words). I also hope you know that whatever happens, I'm here if you ever need – or want – to talk. Thanks for another great year.

- Moony

P.S. I hope you like the gift. I don't know why I keep encouraging your fascination for these. Before I know it, you'll be getting an actual one!(…Please don't)

Chuckling weakly, I fold up the card and keep it in the pocket of my jeans. The message was a lot, and meant a lot, taking into account our situation. I notice that he was trying to make it seem nonchalant but I know him more than that. I know that he's trying to say that whatever is happening between us won't invalidate the fact that he's here for me. And for that, I am extremely glad.

Smiling sadly, I tear away the paper of the package to reveal a sleek miniature model of a gorgeous motorcycle. A black and red Triumph Bonneville T120.

My jaw drops as I run my fingers through the sleek surface, the shine gleaming in the fading sunlight from the window.

"Merlin, Remus…" I mutter to myself as I turn it around in my hands, my eyes practically watering in adoration.

This is the model I've been pining over. The page with it in the book he gave me weeks ago has been dog-eared with the details in the caption underlined twice. He probably saw me gaping at it repeatedly. Trust Remus to pay attention to the little things.

Grinning, I place the model of the epitome of all that is beautiful gingerly atop my trunk.

My smile falters, however, when I see the package from Regulus. Without anything else delaying me anymore, I take it in my hands and rip away the paper to reveal a Slytherin scarf and an envelope. I laugh to myself and throw the scarf on my bed, wondering if he has opened the huge Gryffindor banner I sent him yet.

I open the envelope, and take out a letter.

Taking a deep breath, as if about to take a dive, I unfold it and start reading

Sirius,

Merry Christmas, brother. I hope you're having a wonderful time…Or at least a better time than I'm having. It doesn't feel like the holidays here, unless you are willing to count mother's nagging and father's drunken screams as festive. The place is gloomy as ever, and it's worse without you here. I really wish I was allowed to stay at Hogwarts but according to our lovely mother, I am not to be "contaminated by your foolish and unbecoming ways". The usual rubbish, really.

I really miss you, brother, and I hope you're okay. Being out of the household will be great for you. You're too good for this rotten family, anyway, you know I believe that (regardless of the Slytherin scarf I gave you… What did you send me this time? A scarlet and gold sweater?)

Love,
Regulus

P.S. You left these in your room, I just saw them now when Kreacher was cleaning out your room for the hundredth time. I convinced him to give them to me before he showed them mother.

I raise my eyebrows in curiosity, trying my best to ignore the needles of pain poking at my heart induced by the letter. Left what in my room?

I tip out the envelope and a bunch of pictures, muggle pictures at that, of me and my friends. I look at them fondly, feeling a rush of emotion. I take out my wand from my pocket and magic the photos onto my wall right above my headboard. They stick among the countless other photos I've taken, band posters, magazine cut outs, and a Gryffindor banner that matches the one I sent to Regulus.

Looking down at the watch Mr. and Mrs. Potter, probably the best parents ever, sent me for my birthday, I see that I have to be down for the Christmas feast - hardly a feast since there are barely any people left in the castle because of all the kids wanted home due to the war - in a while. I groan and head to the bathroom to get ready.