Happy Christmas, Moony

By Queen Smithy


Sodding bloody full moon. Fucking stupid full moon. It's always a dreadful time for me, a sixteen-year-old werewolf, but why did it have to be tonight of all nights - Christmas eve?

Padfoot and Prongs wanted to sneak into Hogsmeade tonight and get pissed in the Three Broomsticks. I told them to go without me, but they won't. They won't come out to the Shack either; the snow's almost a foot deep, even in the forest, and Prongs could stumble and injure himself. Tonight, Christmas Eve, I am alone.

I spend my transformed time lying on the bed, gazing out of the window at the still falling snow flakes. It makes my mood no better. I wonder what my friends are doing, and can picture them sitting in front of a roaring fire, drinking cocoa, laughing and joking. I know they'll be missing me - we're close, the four of us - but at least they've got each other.

Mostly I imagine Sirius sitting there, flames casting long shadows across his face, highlighting his good cheekbones and chiselled jaw, his floppy black hair falling over his deep, dark eyes. It seems I've longed for him forever, loved him since we met. I wish I could gaze upon his face now. If I could, I say to myself, I'd finally tell him how I feel. I try to make a deal with reality: let me be with him now and I'll tell him the one secret I've managed to keep from him. But reality isn't interested. It leaves me to my pain and loneliness.

I'm not sure what holds me back from letting Sirius now my feelings for him. Maybe I'm scared of losing him. The only person I've told - the only thing I've told - is my diary. Somehow, I can write down my thoughts easier than I can write them. I've told those blank pages things I would blush to hear on anyone's lips. Things I want to do to Sirius, even more things I'd have him do to me. Everything I've ever thought about him, affectionate, longing, downright X-rated, is written down in this small, black book. It is the one place where I can record the truth.

I wonder briefly if I put it back in my trunk before I left, then sleep takes me for an hour or so.

At sunrise, I become human again. Once I have recovered some of my strength, I stagger back to the castle, and head straight for the Hospital wing. Here, I am force-fed many foul potions and left alone once again. The pain lingers. I am cold and bored and have never been lonelier.

Happy fucking Christmas.

Then the door of the Hospital wing opens and someone slips in. It is Sirius, I sense that immediately. I sit up sharply, wince in pain, and lie back. Sirius doesn't speak. He is holding my diary and I know he's read it. He's a marauder, he could never have resisted a diary left lying around. My heart sinks.

"Sirius, I -" I begin.

He presses a finger to my lips. I can't read his expression. I can smell sweat on him, even in this freezing weather; he's been worrying about this all night. He's going to reject me, I tell myself. Worst case scenario, he'll stop our friendship here and now, never want to be anywhere near me again. I shudder at this thought. I'd kill myself if he did that. I can't live without him.

Still Sirius says nothing. Then, slowly, he hoists himself onto my bed, gazing deep into my eyes. He moves his leg over my body, and moves closer to me. I lift my chin and close my eyes as he catches my lips in his. His tongue brushes my lower lip, softly, and I open my mouth invitingly, not caring if I seem over-eager. It doesn't bother him either, and he deepens the kiss. I nestle back into the pillow, drawing him back with me, and he presses his body close to mine. He's warm and soft and strong and *Sirius*.

At once I feel content again. I feel as if I was never alone and never will be, ever. Sirius always has this effect on me.

He breaks the kiss slowly. His lips linger over mine as if a magnetic force holds them together. I wrap my arms around his middle to stop him from moving away entirely, so he kisses me again, once on my lips, then across my cheek, a trail of kisses leading to my ear. He nibbles the lobe. The pain is just as pleasurable as the kisses. Then he releases my flesh and whispers into my ear.

"Happy Christmas, Moony."


A/N: Based on books by J.K. Rowling.

Yes, I know I sounded like someone foreign trying really hard to write in English. I'm not too good at this style. Forgive me?

And, of course, HAPPY CHRISTMAS to everyone!