Disclaimer: To my dismay, the characters except Sapphire aren't mine.

PMS: Pre Moon Sickness

Minerva's Note: For this tale I took some of my favourite lines from a few of my other fics so you lot could enjoy them. Most of it is original for this fic, though.

The prologue and epilogue are from Remus' point of view. Each chapter in between is told from a different character's perspective. I shall not tell you whose! Each new chapter I drop VERY OBVIOUS clues to enable you to perceive who is telling the chappie to you. Yes, you, sitting right there.

By the way, I know that Remus is not actually colourblind, yet the fact that he is in this story is significant to the plot. I got the idea for this from the splendid Close Your Eyes by PsyRae. Enjoy!


We were in The Three Broomsticks. I'd rather not be here. There's a Defense Against the Dark Arts exam that I should be studying for, though when I pointed this out to my cohorts they stated that DADA was my best subject and it would be unfair to the other students if I studied too much. Ridiculous. Of course, they always conducted themselves in that mannerism. I would not adore them if they didn't. After all, only such ludicrous individuals would be willing to disobey the law simply to accompany me during my monthly incidents, which coincidentally is in three days. They were more than I'd ever dreamed of.

Still I want more. Selfish, I know. Everyone insists how patient and virtuous I am. I'm not worthy of such compliments, not when I'm so selfish. For years I was content to be liked, however, in recent months I decided I want to be loved also. I should be happy with what I have. Perhaps I could be blissful enough if the individual that I love was not invariably so near.

Yes, it is true love. Believe me. How am I certain? I cannot be glad when he's not; therefore I would sacrifice everything to make him so. I do make sacrifices. I do it constantly. I'm doing it right now.

He's over at the bar chatting up some large breasted girl, and am I attempting to ruin it for him out of envy? Nope. Innocent, kind bookworms don't do things like that.

"Where's your paper bag!" he exclaims in alarm.

"Huh?" She looks over at him as if she has just noticed him; however, I speculate it is a charade. Girls always notice when Sirius Orion Black is in the vicinity. I cannot blame them. It draws my attention as well.

"The paper bag to put over your head," he clarifies.

"Excuse me?" Maybe I was inaccurate. Maybe he is not hitting on her.

"You must hide your loveliness. It's dangerous for somebody like you to be out with all of these horny and randy people around. Don't worry, I'll protect you." And maybe McGonagall doesn't shag Dumbledore in the Hospital Wing closet every Tuesday night. Right.

She giggles, "You look like someone who knows how to have fun."

"And you look a lot like my next girlfriend."

Her giggling increases. I detest her already. "Here." She hands him a piece of parchment that must have her address on it because she requests, "Owl me." Mercifully, she departs and I exhale in relief.

I should not be grateful yet. Sirius beckons a young lady with immaculately manicured nails and a short skirt over, and the gesture is so arousing that my breath catches in my throat. She sits adjacent to Sirius. My heart plummets through my stomach. Could this be a dreadful chocolate-induced nightmare? No, I am plagued with cleverness and know when things are real. "I made you come with one finger. Imagine what I could do with the whole hand."

"Whatever. Did you want something?"

He inquires, "I'm sorry, if I offended you; I just wondered if were you talking to me from over there? I couldn't hear you." Oh Merlin, he's applying this line? I've heard him use it on several previous occasions that presently it is unoriginal. He is creative enough to do better. He is creative enough to hatch devious plots with our mutual comrade James Potter. Often they were disrespectful to our classmates, yet this year James has ceased somewhat. Sirius finds it less enjoyable without his 'partner in crime,' as he calls him, thus he seldom partakes in such infamous activities anymore. This pleases me, however, I cannot deny that instances when Sirius does elect to misbehave something about it is appealing. Bloody hell, everything about the boy is appealing! I can never utter that aloud. Not only is swearing discourteous, but no one is aware that I'm gay. Having lycanthropy causes me to be an abomination as it is; I do not need another abnormality on top of it. Fortunately, none of my mates question my lack of dating. They presume it is a result of my condition and I allow them to believe that.

She peers at him with curiosity from under thick eyelashes. "No, I wasn't."

"Well, then please start." See what I mean?

Beaming flirtatiously, she queries, "What would you like to talk about."

"You. Let's start with your ambitions, your dreams, your name…"

"Name's Tanya, and I really don't know anything that I want out of life yet." Unsure of herself? Uh-oh that means Sirius undoubtedly intends to use his more indiscreet phrases.

"Didn't anybody tell you that your life-long dream was to sleep with me? I thought you knew!"

Now she began giggling too. "You're awful."

"Awfully charming."

"True. You never told me your name."


"Oh, Sirius!" She moaned. He blinked at her, his captivating grey eyes bemused. I love that his eyes are grey because it's a hue that even a colourblind lycanthrope can see. "What? I'm pratising for later." Fantastic. She's a whore! Wait, did I think that? I refrain from judging people as often as possible, for I do not wish to be unjustly stereotyped. It must be the wolf's fault. I become wearier and more easily agitated impending transformation since I have PMS: Pre Moon Sickness.

I cannot bear to regard the sensuous boy any longer when his romantic attentions are not directed at me and never will be. Who would have fervor for a bookish homosexual teenage werewolf?

Peter is undertaking the effort of picking up a girl. It is a sight that swiftly moves me from jealousy to sympathy. On account of the notion that there are four Marauders he possesses a 'four strikes and I'm out' rule as opposed to the typical three. Consequently, four females are going to be momentarily tortured tonight and my buxom friend shall probably obtain four bruises.

"Do you know the difference between sex and conversation?"


"Wanna get out of here and talk?"

Slap. Strike one.

He indicates his forefinger and middle finger. "Why should a woman masturbate with these two fingers?"

"I don't know."

"'Cause they're mine."

Punch. Strike two.

"Do you have any English in you?"


"I'm English. Would you like some?"

Smack. Strike three.

"Do you like to sleep?"


"Me too! We should try it together sometime."

Oh my gosh, this one is going to reply! "Maybe we should."


"Yep 'cause you're tall, dark and handsome. When it's dark you're handsome." She stalks off, irritated.

He shouts after her, "Know how they say skin is the largest organ? Not in my case!"

Strike four. He's out. Are you surprised? Didn't think so.

James propels Peter over to our table. "For Merlin's sake, spare Moony's virgin ears." He grins as he places one of the Butterbeers he went to retrieve in front of me.

"Thank you," I murmur affably, sensing a blush creep down my neck. I am indeed the sole inexperienced Marauder; I already explained my reasoning behind it, yet it is unnecessary for them to remind me of that information. Wondering about Peter's experience? Ah, well, he and this dame got drunk one evening…

"Prongs, you've gotta help me," pleads Peter. "None of these chicks fancy me." I cannot imagine why. I'd assist him, though my powers can only be used for good.

"I can't show you how it's done, Wormtail. I'm not gonna fool around anymore, remember? I've decided to wait for Evans to come around."

He mutters, 'Then you won't 'cum around' anytime soon."


"Sorry, I just want your help." His confidence in James is endearing, yet I am under the impression that he should do some things for himself on occasion. "Can't you just tell me what to do?"

After taking a hearty swig of his beverage he sighs, "All right. First, don't ask 'Are you Natasha, my contact?' She'll never believe you're a spy. Secondly, don't say, 'I'm from the F.B.I. – the Fine Body Investigators – and I'm going to have to ask you to assume the position.' That only works for Americans. Third and most importantly, don't tell the bird, 'I have a magic watch that can talk to me. It's saying something now,' put your watch to your ear and add, 'It says you're not wearing any knickers. Is that true? No? Oh…That's 'cause my watch is an hour fast.'"

"I already learned what NOT to do the hard way. What should I do?"

James whispers a suggestion into the smaller boy's ear to ensure that no nearby girls overhear. I witness him go up to the bar and smash an ice cube. He spins around to face the closest damsel. "Now that I've broken the ice will you talk to me?" To my stupefaction she does. I would not ever respond to such a flimsy line. Unless Sirius proclaimed it. Anything he did would work. Who am I fooling? Sirius has shagged more persons than he can count since he was too wasted on alcohol to recollect half of them. Naturally, I've counted. 23. Yes, 23 by the age of seventeen and every solitary one of them were girls. He has not let up on the flirting, however, he has restrained himself from making love lately. I've been curious as to why that might be.

"Dammit, earth to Moony!" James waves his hand in front of my face distracting my thoughts.

Not 'James to Moony'? Okay then. "Yes, Dammit-earth?"

"You ought to pick up a girl. With your quiet charm it wouldn't be hard."

I shake my head.

"Why not?"

"You know why not." At least you think you do.

"But it's fun; you'd see that if you gave it a try. Resistance is useless. Come to the Dark Side."

I chuckle softly. "Why would I join this Dark Side?"

"We have beer!" He finishes off his drink.

Ere I can answer such a ludicrous remark Peter and Sirius return appearing triumphant. "What's up?" greets Sirius. His voice is quite sexxxy and hott (I must include the Americans' unnecessary consonants.).

"Not much. Remus still refuses to seduce a babe," supplies James bluntly.

Sirius grins and I swear my heart literally stops for a moment. "Don't pressure innocent little Moony today. It's that time of the month."

Peter declares, "He won't throw himself at girls because he's already got a hot one."

Without invitation, James reaches over to my unfinished mug of bubbly liquid and sips it. "How is Sapphire, anyway?"

The attractive features of my love interest darken at the mention of my Ravenclaw acquaintance's name. I have yet to discover why he dislikes her.

"She's fine, and I don't 'have' her. We're just friends."

None of them look like they believe me. If only they knew.