Disclaimer: I do not own harry potter, i am not j.k. rowling, etc...

A/N: This certainly isn't my best writing, but I've grown rather attached to some of the later chapters, and they needed something before them. Also, I don't write much for this fandom, so please tell me what you think.

Chapter One

It began past midnight, every night; you were Marauders, after all, and any time earlier simply would not do. You would sit in the kitchen, on either side of the grimy wooden table, and talk, and talk like you would never stop.

Sometimes, your shoulder would gently pass his as you entered the room, your foot would brush against his under the table, you would subconsciously touch a hand or arm in a way that was not quite platonic. Though Sirius made no effort to encourage this, he never drew away, and you wanted to shout, "Do you remember? Don't you remember?" but you never did, because you already knew the answer.

Once, in the middle of August, you went to his room to tell him that Harry would be coming soon; it was just past noon, but he was still asleep, in true Marauder fashion. You'd sighed, shaken him, slapped him across the face, shouted, "Padfoot!" – to no avail. Finally resorting to drenching him in ice-cold water from your wand, you had caused him to jump suddenly awake, and stare at you as though seeing a ghost. Vacantly, he had asked, "Who're you?" blurring his words slightly.

"It's me," you said, confused. "Remus. Moony. Sirius, are you alright?"

"Moony?" he had asked, still blank for a long moment, then embarrassed, as though he could not imagine forgetting you.

He shrugged, like nothing had happened. "What is it?"

You looked him up and down, searching for clues as for anything wrong. There were scratch marks across his hands, where Harry's owl had pecked him, but his eyes were brighter than usual, and his lips… You quickly looked away, before you broke the number one rule you had made for yourself, since it had first become clear that Sirius had no interest in you the way he used to: you may NOT check out Sirius Black.

"I'm going to get Harry, now," you told him, "on Dumbledore's orders." You had added, knowing he would ask, "And he says you can't come."

Rolling his eyes, not noticing how antsy you had become, he said, "It sort of makes me feel like I'm back at school again, you know? All these 'Dumbledore's orders' and 'Dumbledore says' – like school again, without the pranks."

You couldn't help but to grin at that, your unease almost gone. "We could always prank Molly," you suggest mildly.

He got that plotting look, then, the look that took all the haunting of Azkaban away, and you decided that it must have been a trick of the light, that kept him from recognizing you.