One Night Can Change Everything

The cool Fall breeze makes the Shrieking Shack creak as it shifts slightly from side to side. I am on the harsh wooden floor, covered in blood and cuts, my shirt torn to shreds beside me. It stings when I breathe, yet I can't stop myself from gasping for air as if I had been holding my breath for years. My vision is blurred by tears of pain, but I can slightly see my surroundings; the floorboards have claw marks from my transformation, there are patches of dried blood on the floor and walls. A torn-up couch sits in the corner, as well as a dusty, and most likely out of tune, grand piano. I also notice the silhouette of a person entering the shack: Sirius.

"Hey, Moons. How are you?" His voice is soothing and peaceful, yet somber and pitiful. I feel as though some of my pain has lifted just by hearing his voice, although I know it didn't really. He seems to lighten the mood of a room just by walking into it. I laugh a little at the question with what little energy I have left.

"Oh, you know. Stuff like scratching my skin raw for three days straight. It was loads of fun. You should try it some time."

"Sorry." He said, sounding embarrassed. "Stupid question."

He walks towards me and sits on the bit of floor a few inches away from me. His greasy black hair is tied in a messy bun with his wand stuck through the bottom, to hold it together, I presume. He has several piercings on his ear and one on his nose I don't quite remember. He is wearing one of the rock shirts with rips around the top and bottom I bought for him from the muggle world with the arm holes cutting halfway down his sides; this one is an album cover for AC/DC. He has black, severely ripped jeans on with a silver chain going through two of the belt loops and hanging down part of his thigh, and black shoes with many buckles attached. Beautiful, I think.

"I took these from the Hospital Wing" he says. He takes out several tiny, packaged squares that look like shrunken tissues. "They are supposed to heal wounds pretty quick, no matter how bad they are, and I figured I could get here faster than Madam Pomfrey, so I took them and started walking." He unpackages one of the tiny-healing-tissue squares, beckons toward my bloody arm, and gets to work. As he wipes my cuts with the healing tissue, I notice they turn to scars. No more blood and no more open wounds.

I look at Sirius. He seems content and happy; his breaths slow and even; his silver eyes glistening in the faint light of the sun behind rain clouds. The cool wind sends a chill up my spine, and I shiver. I wonder how Sirius could be in a tank top. When he finishes cleaning up my arms and legs, he starts on my chest. I feel my face go red. Why do I feel a twinge of embarrassment? It is nothing, I tell myself. I have changed in the dorm in front of him forever! It must be the wind against my chest, or something like that. Once he finishes with a big slice on my chest, he slides his fingers up and down it, seeming to check to see if it still feels like an open wound. I suddenly feel craved for the warmth of his touch and shiver when his fingers leave.

"Almost done" he says, quiet, but loud enough for me to hear him. I wonder if he announced that because of my shiver. "All I need to do is fix up your face, and you'll be good to go." Once he unpackages another one of the healing-squares, he brings his hand up to heal my face, but can't reach it.

"I see someone hasn't grown."

"Oh, shut up."

He shifts his body so that one of his knees is on either side of my stretched-out legs, and his places his hand next to my thigh. Oh, I think. I try to keep my face from turning red so he wouldn't notice. There is only one cut, but a large one; it goes across my face from my cheek to my eyebrow. I close my eyes from instinct to make sure nothing gets in my them. He does one short wipe across the cut, and it is no longer bleeding, just a scar. I feel something on my arm; something that seems to be moving in patterns. I open my eyes to see Sirius marking the areas around my newly scarred cuts with stars, mostly the constellation Sirius, but the rest just being tiny and easy stars.

"W-what are you doing?"

"What does it look like, idiot?" Sirius says with a smirk. "I'm marking my territory."

He stops, apparently noticing what he has just said. Sirius looks up and our eyes finally meet. His beautiful silver eyes seem to know my deepest, darkest secrets. He seemed to look down at my lips, but they darted back up. I really want to kiss you right now, part of my mind says. The other part of my brain was saying, what? You know he doesn't like you that way. Stop it now, but I wasn't listening. All I wanted to do was press my lips to his. My heart was beating faster, and my hands were starting to shake. Would I kiss him? Or would it be a forgotten dream? Before I could finish my thought, my questions were answered. My lips lead the way to his and pressed themselves to Sirius'.

It is a warm and longing feeling, like one that he has been craving for his whole lifetime. His lips are soft and cold, kind of like an ice cube. The kiss starts soft, like he is afraid I will break, but then it deepens with time and comfort. His hands somehow end up on my waist as the kiss grows longer, and mine on his neck. All time seems to be forgotten and our surroundings disappear. Just us. Two best friends kissing in the Shrieking Shack. As we come up for air, I hear the floorboards creak. Sirius seems to hear it too, because he turns his head towards the noise, as do I. It must have just been the creaking of the shack as it is moved by the cool morning wind. As our heads turn back towards each other, now noticing my hand on his neck and his on my waist, there is a familiar voice that drifts out.

"I KNEW IT!" James' voice erupts from behind the piano. He stands up, still in his Gryffindor pajamas. "THERE WAS NO DAMN WAY IN HELL THAT YOU TWO DIDN'T FANCY EACH OTHER! I KNEW IT! WORMTAIL OWES ME 10 GALLEONS!" He runs away, cackling and whispering, "Yes! Yes!"

I feel my face go red. Did I really just do that? Did I really just make out with my best friend in the Shrieking Shack after I have transformed back from a werewolf? I turn my head to a shifting movement in my lap to see Sirius get up with a terrified expression.

"I-I've got to, er, go do some homework."

The happiness I felt just a moment ago has drained from my body. I just lost my best friend.