Harry Potter and all related works belong to J.K. Rowling and all affiliated companies, not me.


Lily and I were to stay at Dorcas's house for two more days, in order for Dorcas to spend time with her family and relatives, many of which were visiting from out of town. Professor Dumbledore thought it best for us to accompany Dorcas on the train ride back to Hogwarts.

He didn't say why, but Lily and I both knew, without even saying it aloud, that it was for something like 'offering emotional support' to Dorcas.

Dumbledore was a considerate man, and nowadays I feel badly for all the sneaking around and prank-pulling that me, James, Peter and Remus did in our time here.

Though he slipped up by smiling at some of our pranks when he thought nobody else was looking.

Anyway Dorcas and her family lived in a moderately sized, comfortable and cozy house. She gave Lily and me each a guest room to stay in for the two days.

The room held a small bedside table, a wooden cabinet of drawers (unpacking was never in the cards for me, though), and a bed.

A bed which I most thoroughly flopped upon and pondered hopelessly about Dorcas.

I had had many girlfriends, many flings, a whole lot of snogs (which, of course, explains why I'm such a gifted kisser—and I am being modest here), and too many interactions with girls to count, basically.

But, God. None of them were like Dorcas. None of them could come close to Dorcas. They couldn't touch the experience of kissing her with a ten-foot broomstick. If there are ten foot broomsticks—

(Actually I think I read in an edition of Quidditch Weekly how they were making a new line of broomsticks for giants—maybe they were ten feet long?)

The point is she kept returning to my thoughts, again and again and again and again…

Especially the kiss.


We ate dinner that night, all of us—Dorcas, Lily, Tom (Dorcas's father), Juliana (Dorcas's sister), and I.

Particularly sad was the four chairs that encircled the small wooden table. Dorcas, Tom and Juliana all took their seats as if everything was perfectly normal, perfectly alright, as if nothing had changed.

But there was one empty chair belonging to somebody who would never return. I think I could see that realization written on each of their faces.

Dorcas insisted upon retrieving a different chair from the sitting room.

The dinner was silent and evidently Tom wasn't the usual resident cook—the potatoes were hard and nearly raw (though, considering the last time James and I attempted to make potatoes we ended up nearly burning the Potters' whole kitchen down, his attempt doesn't seem too bad in comparison), the meat was overcooked and he seemed to have forgotten vegetables of any sort (not that I minded).

As we chewed on our food in silence, my and Lily's eyes connected in silent acknowledgement that we were intruding upon family grief that we would possibly never be able to imagine, to even fathom.

I honestly don't even know where to start with this. I'll do my best but…

Dinner ended without one word being exchanged.

Lily, in her typical 'politeness-is-the-world's-greatest-trait-possible' fashion, thanked Tom for the dinner as we scraped our plates.

"It was terrible, wasn't it," he sighed, placing his dish into the sink.

Lily fended that one off with a, "No, it was really very good."

He turned to me—he was my height (I was nearly six feet—this obviously bore no resemblance to Dorcas, who was, indeed, not even five feet) and said quietly, sort of gruffly, "She's lying. Can't cook to save my life."

I shrugged noncommittally. "Better than me," I acknowledged. "Last time I tried to cook … I think it was half of the table we burnt down?"

Tom laughed. He had eyes like Dorcas, I noticed—constantly sparkling with appreciation of tiny moments and words. Both daughter and father had the exact, clear shade of blue eyes.

Lily attempted to purse her lips disapprovingly but failed. "It was you and James, wasn't it," she said resignedly, and Lily, Dorcas, Tom and I all laughed.

"Indeed it was." I said, fondly remembering.

Dorcas, Lily and I continued our conversation as we made our way up to Meadowes's staircase. Dorcas and I went into our own rooms, while Lily went off to keep Juliana occupied.

This…this is where it gets slightly difficult to explain. It's…

In short, I lay around my room for awhile, pondering.

Dorcas was easily the most confusing girl in perhaps the whole world. Which other female would kiss me while crying, of all things, then not acknowledge that it'd happened in the first place?

I'd immediately had to break away and ask if she was okay, because obviously she was crying, not like I could just let her sit there and sob. She hadn't managed to answer when Lily dragged her away firmly by the hand, presumably leading her towards the nearest girl's bathroom so they could conduct a 'girl talk'.

Well, not too depressed to be left out of that—too much of this emotional stuff isn't good for a man's brain. Don't ask me why—it just isn't, and that's a fact of life.

These thoughts seemed to be taking over my brain.

It was utterly terrible—I was thinking so much I was practically turning into Remus.

Anyway. After finding a particular joy in the pastime of counting the number of times I heard Lily emit a LOUD laugh at whatever Juliana's antics were, I decided to get up, and do something to take my mind of this silly 'thinking' business.

I got up and idly wandered down the hallway—when I heard—

My body visibly tensed and my heart sped up as I heart the sound of muffled sobs from Dorcas's room. After staring at the door for a few seconds, I pushed the door open, knocking as I went.

Dorcas, in a light pink bra and underwear, stood, clutching something in her hand, crying and attempting to muffle the sounds with a sweater over her mouth. Seeing me, she began to cry even harder. Her blue, large eyes were full of pain and her hair was down and she was utterly totally and completely gorgeous.

I'm afraid I may have stared for a second or two longer than I should have.

I quickly shut the door, as the sobbing resumed.

What the hell do I do? I wondered to myself, as Dorcas continued sobbing even louder, penetrating the wooden door. My hand was on the doorknob, and my heart was beating quite loudly, a persistent drum against my chest.

"Oh—shit. Dorcas, I'm sorry." I said.

The sobs continued, though it sounded as if she was (unsuccessfully) attempting to force words out which were choked by the sobs.

I didn't know whether to go or to stay. I'm sure I looked like a fool, standing there by the doorway for what seemed like an eternity.

I felt worse than ever—had I made her cry harder? It seemed so, although it still seemed as if she was attempting to speak.

"D'you...d'you want me to leave?" I inquired uncertainly through the doorway.

I listened closely as she evidently attempting to control her crying. "N—n—" she burst into another wave of crying, when after a minute she began to struggle with words again. "C---c—come i—n—"

I slowly turned the doorknob, heart beating quickly.

Keep your eyes up, I chided myself silently. Look at her face. Not her body—

She looked so upset and—

Her eyes had lost their sparkle. They were tired and blue, without their usual glimmer. She sat on her bed now, beckoning me sadly.

I felt like some sort of big footed giant as I made my way towards her. Her skin was so pale, her frame so small yet so exquisite. She looked fragile and beautiful and I wasn't sure that a person this small could take so much pain.

I wasn't aware of how a person could look so beautiful, if tragically so, while they were bawling their eyes out.

She cried and laid her head on my shoulder and I put my hand on her back, which was bare and I felt the silk of her strap under my finger. Her skin was so smooth and I tried not to focus on the feel of her skin and silk under my hand as she cried unrelentingly, occasionally pausing but bursting into tears again periodically.

We didn't talk at all, until I ventured to ask a question. She had taken a small break from crying. "Would you, er, like some, er, clothes or tissues?"

She nodded, large tear-filled blue eyes looking up at me.

I made my way over to her chest of drawers. It was wooden, and similar to the one in the room I was staying in. I also noticed the light rose hue of Dorcas's walls and her room in general, which I had neglected it noting because of the pressing matter at hand—Dorcas crying.

I opened the drawer, pulled uncertainly out a pair of plaid sweatpants and a large white t-shirt, and a took box of tissues that laid on her dresser.

Bringing the supplies back to Dorcas's bed, where she was still crying, though quieter than before, I still felt the pulse of panic in my heart.

"Here," I said, holding the white t-shirt that looked as if it could swallow Dorcas's small frame whole, "erm—hold up your arms, I guess—"

She giggled slightly, through her tears, as she did so. She was a child then, and I could see how she might have been as one.

I slipped the t-shirt over her, and it went down to about her knees. It looked as if she was swimming in the fabric.

"Erm—and the pants," I said, holding them outstretched, feeling rather foolish as Dorcas giggled, standing up, "um—one leg in—"

Dorcas attempted to place one slender leg into the pajama pants, but soon lost her balance. I gripped her waist and steadied her, as she, still giggling, managed to put her other leg in the corresponding leg of the pants, and flopped back onto the bed, taking me with her.

She sat in my lap as I dabbed hesitantly at her face with a tissue.

"There." I pronounced, throwing the last tissue to the ground.

"Thanks." Dorcas said, in an oddly clear, though fragile and somewhat tender voice.

"It's alright—just a tissue—"

"No—" she said, in the same tone "for everything."

"Really, y'know, it's alright, glad to do it, it's not such a big—"

But before I knew it, Dorcas had turned around and I was fell on my back onto her bed and she was on top of me and we were kissing, kissing hard and deep and long and passionate, kissing this beautiful girl with the sparkling eyes like there was no tomorrow.


I lay on my bed. Thinking had failed me. Laying down like a lump of coal was my favored new pastime. You know, clearing your mind and all that Buddhist stuff. Meditating. Although my hair is so alarmingly gorgeous, shaving it all off would be like…a tragedy to society. And orange robes…okay, so scratch the Buddhism plan.

Anyway. I was just innocently sitting there when I heard a knock on my door.

"Sirius?"

It was Lily.

"Come in." I said rather miserably.

She obliged, sitting on the edge of my bed while I was still sprawled desperately across it. She had a slight smirking smile playing across her lips, one that she was evidently trying to conceal (but not doing a very good job at).

"What do you want?" I asked tragically.

For some reason Lily laughed at my statement. I frowned but let it pass—I was too emotionally 'wrung out' (wow, how metaphorical I was being) to object.

"Are you done yet?" I said rather grumpily. Lily nodded, green eyes shining.

I remembered the set of clear blue eyes that sparkled, and shone as well, and—

Thus went the Buddhism/ meditating /non-thinking /lump of coal plan.

"So. Erm…" she was still trying not to laugh, "…Dorcas told me…about…it…."

She did not have to explain what 'it' was.

"She did?" I asked.

Lily nodded, and could mask her giggles no longer. She burst into a fit of them.

I sat up now. This was ridiculous, totally incomprehensible—what the hell was Lily doing? Here I was, in the middle of emotional turmoil, and all Lily could do was giggle at me?

"What the hell is so funny?" I demanded. "I hear her crying, walk in, she's wearing only a flipping bra and underwear, I go back outside, she tells me I can come in, she sobs on my shoulder for awhile, I get her tissues and clothes and then we snog on her bed and then she starts crying. Again." I said.

Lily looked to be actually crying (I couldn't take much more of this crying business) from the hilariousness of my story—I couldn't see the humor in it. At all. What were Dorcas and I, and, most importantly, why in the name of Merlin did she have to choose the time we were snogging to bawl her heart out?

"Lily!" I said petulantly. She stopped giggling (and good she had—it had been nearly an eternity) and wiped a tear (from her incomprehensible spell of laughter) from the corner of her eye.

It took a minute more for her to fully recover.

"Sorry," she said, still grinning, "sorry. It's just…well…"

"Well what?" I asked.

"…you looked so…so…"

I waited patiently, as lumps of coal do.

"…confused. And it's just so…"

Remember the Buddhism, the non-anger, the orange robes, the … I said to myself, in order to remain calm through Lily's agonizingly slow, drawn out sentences.

"…well, you've got to admit it's funny, isn't it, looking back?"

"It is NOT funny. The only two times we've snogged, she's ended up crying!"

Lily still grinned and her eyes still sparkled, but at least she'd ceased laughing.

"…even this hasn't happened to James and I…" she murmured under her breath.

"No need to rub it in." I sighed. "Explanation of the female mind would be appreciated at this point."

"So…" she began, a bit more seriously, her red hair glinting, "Dorcas is very confused right now."

I let her continue without remarking, though it was admittedly difficult.

"Her mother just died, obviously. And she likes you, but she's thinking that maybe she's just snogging you to take her mind of her mother. And she's also thinking that maybe she shouldn't be snogging you right now, because she should be just thinking about her mother and she thinks it's not really proper to snog during mourning time for your own family. And she's worried about her sister. And her Dad. And every time she snogs you all these thoughts get triggered and she gets worried and stressed out and sad and so then she starts crying. Oh, and she thinks you think she's acting like a baby, what with crying so much."

"Lily."

"Yes?"

"The female mind. Just…what?"


The train ride back to Hogwarts was pretty much uneventful. Dorcas's head rested in my lap as she laid long-ways across the seat.

Lily just smiled.

For some unknowable reason (honestly, I don't remember how), we got onto the topic of what our dear teachers wore to bed.

I'd handed out the butterbeer and chocolate as usual, and Dorcas was stealing sips from my bottle periodically.

Not that I minded. But anyway.

"Professor McGonagall—what do you think?" Dorcas offered, reaching up with a smile and taking yet another small sip of my butterbeer.

"Long, green velvet nightgown—long-sleeved, with a matching bun-holder-in."

"Bun-holder-in?" Lily questioned, with a snort, spraying butterbeer a short distance.

"That's what it's called, isn't it?" I asked, slightly confused.

"Normally a hair-tie," Lily said, "but, you know. Wasn't expecting you to have known."

"It would have been weirder if he had known." Dorcas said.

"Too true. Anyway, what about Pince?" I questioned.

"Matching pink bra and underwear set—never know what she gets up to with Filch." Lily said.

Dorcas and I both blushed something awful. We simultaneously turned our gazes to the floor pointedly.

Lily, for a second, didn't realize the significance of what she'd said.

Then her eyes turned wide, for a second, and she sprayed some more butterbeer out of her nose, saying, "Oh—Dorcas, your—you wore—pink br--you—Sirius, y—"

And she promptly threw herself into a fit of laughter.

Dorcas's cheeks were decidedly pink as she looked up at me, and we both joined in the laughter uproariously. My sides hurt and Dorcas's giggles were silent she was laughing so hard.

After awhile, we had all calmed down (at least a bit).

"Oh, I'm sorry, you two, I had no idea—you both looked so guilty, and—"

"Lily," I said, sighing dramatically, "it's okay. You know you've had similar experiences with dear Jamesiepoo."

Lily's cheeks flamed with color. "That's not fair." She argued. "James isn't even here to defend my bra color!"

"It's not your bra we're talking about," I said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "we're discussing James's purple one!"

A/N: Hehe. I just had to do that. The last line I mean.

Soooo……I'm sorry if this chapter was slightly depressing. Yes. But I do hope you enjoyed all the Sirius/Dorcas. I'm certainly enjoying them. What did you guys think? Inquiring minds (namely me) would like to know.

Now, onto the predicted length of this story. You know, when I began, I didn't really know—at all—where I was going with this. I thought it would be a one-shot but obviously my fingers had other ideas. So…this will probably be six chapters. Unless some plot idea takes over in my head, yeah, it'll be six.

So. Reviews. Um…okay. I'm really not trying to sound ungrateful or bratty or whiny or anything. But. I have Love is a Funny Thing (my main chaptered story—which, by the way, is nearly done--), and I'm going to be having school work. And a lot of it. So—can you guys please review, so I can kind of estimate how many people actually read it? I know this story is not as popular as my other fics. It's just—if you want me to be motivated, honestly, reviews are the key. I can't know if you like something or not if you don't tell me. So please review because I don't know if you like this or thing it's a piece of worthless fanfiction. Plus I'm having a really crappy day. Again, sorry for being bratty/whiny. Just, please. Review. Thank you so much.

Aaaaanyway—onto reviews. You guys are wonderful:

Sunny (a.k.a Sunsun18): Thank you so much. Yes. I don't think Lily's really jealous of the whole Sirius/Dorcas thing, but…maybe very slightly. She kind of envies their…intensity, I guess. I don't know. Sorry, I'm not making very much sense.

Rebel Rose: Heehee. Love your jokes, as always! I'm glad you liked the story too.

Crazy turtle: I'm glad you like this story. Hmmm. You can get betas on a site I know called Perfect Imagination but I don't think the link will show up here. Sorry. Hmmm. Interesting question that you ask—this story will be around—maybe—the longest, 6 chapters. Longer than I previously expected.

JadeGreen14: Thank youuuu! And now I know who you are from livejournal, hehe!

AllIWannaDo: Awww, thanks! I try to keep them in character—it's how I imagined them, at least. Yes, it is rather sad, the whole James/Lily with Sirius just kind of looking on from the sidelines. As you rightly said, though, now he has Dorcas.

Shadowydreamer: Thank you so much!