"Follow me," Professor Carlisle ordered, sweeping into the classroom with a flick of her black robes. Cassie and Sirius obeyed, too floored to do much else. Cassie was acutely aware of the scrolls hidden up the sleeves of her jumper, and her heart hammered as they reentered the office. Professor Carlisle waved her wand and the door snapped closed behind them, causing the two to jump as she sat behind her desk, eyeing them with her frosty gaze.

"Sit," she said, and they did, neither saying a word as she glanced over her desk, many of the loose papers in disarray from the lack of time to put them in their proper place once more. Her red lips curled up in a smile, and Cassie's knee jerked.

"I am going to ask you two once more: What were you doing in my office?" she said. Both remained silent still.

Professor Carlisle sighed, her features creasing in annoyance. "I am not blind or foolish, if that was what you were hoping I'd be tonight. Your friend Mr. Lupin tried his best to keep me occupied, but I'm afraid his plan didn't last quite as long as you had wished. I also had the pleasure of running into Mr. Potter and Mr. Filch on the way here; another part of your ill-advised plan of distraction, I reckon. I'm not sure where Mr. Pettigrew fits into this, but I'm fairly certain I've never heard a more unconvincing owl in my life. So, I will ask again: What were you doing in my office?"

Cassie opened her mouth; to say what, she had no idea, but Sirius beat her to it.

"Cassie, we need to tell her," he said. She gaped. "We can't lie about this. If we're honest, maybe she'll let us off easy."

"Sirius, are you insane?" she hissed. "We can't tell her anything!"

"Tell me what?" Professor Carlisle looked back and forth between them, unable to mask her eagerness. "What were you doing?"

"Sirius," Cassie pleaded, but she knew it was over. He was going to tell her. He was going to make it out to be her fault, and she knew Carlisle would never believe her over him. Lily's voice echoed at her from months ago: "You're running around with troublemakers who will place the blame on you as soon as you get caught!" But Sirius wouldn't do that to her.

Would he?

Sirius took a deep breath and faced Professor Carlisle with a grimace.

"We broke in because we were looking for a place to snog," he said, with the air of someone admitting his deepest, darkest secret. Cassie froze, heat rising to her face despite their predicament. She only listened in rapt horror as he went on.

"Cassie wanted to keep our relationship a secret for the time being, so I suggested we come up here, since no one would ever bother looking for us in the Defense classroom," he said, casting his eyes to the floor shamefully. "It was nice, for a while, until we, er, you know..."

He gestured vaguely, and both Cassie and the professor stared at him in bewilderment.

"Well, er, things got heated, if you know what I mean, and we got this idea about the desk in your office..." He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck, and Cassie suddenly wanted nothing more than to throttle him, her face blazing and her stomach churning.

Professor Carlisle appeared to be struggling with herself.

"Mr. Black," she said, her voice cold and clipped, and Sirius winced at her tone, "are you trying to tell me that you and Miss Alderfair...fornicated atop my desk?"

"Well, I wouldn't say we went that far..." he hedged. "Pete drew the short stick, you see; he was our lookout for the night, but I couldn't tell you what the others were doing. We stopped when we heard the hoot."

Cassie let out a noise that was somewhere between a whimper and a groan.

Professor Carlisle stared at him, her bony face white and taut, her lips pressed firmly together. For a wild second, Cassie thought the professor might hex him, but slowly, she turned to Cassie, her grey eyes containing a harsh warning.

"Miss Alderfair," said the professor, "is this true?"

Cassie looked to Sirius for a brief second, feeling faint, but he gave her an imperceptible nod. She swallowed, looking back to Professor Carlisle.

"Yes," she said, the word coming out strangled. "It's true, Professor."

Professor Carlisle slammed her palm flat on the top of her desk, causing Cassie and Sirius to flinch in their seats.

"Lies," she hissed. "You two were in here searching for something! What was it? What were you looking for? What do you two know?"

Her eyes widened, and Cassie's heart leapt to her throat when she pressed down on the serpent paperweight, reveling the tiny silver key that she had replaced there not even five minutes ago.

Cassie looked to Sirius frantically, but he wasn't paying attention to her, instead watching Carlisle with a strange grin on his face. She had no time to ponder on this, however, as Professor Carlisle unlocked her bottom drawer, opened it, and froze.

There was a horrible, swelling silence, the tension in the room growing unbearable as Cassie squirmed in her seat, her mind running through the possibilities of their consequences: Would she march them to Professor Dumbledore and let the Headmaster expel them? Would she torture them? If she was a Death Eater, Cassie wouldn't put the idea past her... But why was she just sitting there, not saying anything?

"Get out," she said finally.

Cassie stared. "W-what?" she said, but Professor Carlisle looked up at her, her expression thunderous.

"Get out," she repeated, her tone seeming to drop the temperature in the room by several degrees.

Cassie continued to stare, but Sirius was already on his feet, tugging at her arm. "Cassie, c'mon, let's go."

She reluctantly allowed Sirius to haul her to her feet, but she held Professor Carlisle's gaze for as long as she could, even as Sirius ushered her out the door. The professor's stare was colder than anything she had ever experienced, and was filled with a black loathing that made the hair on her arms stand straight up before she was whisked out of sight.

Sirius slipped his hand into her own as they descended the stairs into the classroom, but she hardly noticed as he led her out the door and started down the corridor, heading back in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

They didn't speak the whole way there, Cassie's mind still reeling. It wasn't until they reached the dozing portrait of the Fat Lady that Cassie stopped, letting her hand fall out of Sirius's grasp limply.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" she asked, staring at Sirius as he turned to face her. He looked as cool as ever, and...smug? "Sirius, did you do something?"

"Besides save our skins?" he said, smirking. "First rule of being a Marauder, love: Always have a backup plan, and always cover your tracks."

"But...how?" she said weakly.

He pulled out his wand from his pocket, twirling it casually in his hands with that same smirk still stuck to his face. "Simple charm, really. I used the Gemini Spell to make copies of the scrolls before you took them. To Carlisle, not a thing was out of place in that drawer."

Cassie shook her head, uncomprehending. "All right, but why did she just let us go? We didn't even get detention!"

Sirius's smirk turned into a fully-fledged, arrogant grin.

"I also may or may not have dropped a note in there I wrote beforehand that said I'd go to Dumbledore over concerns about her 'fascination with the Dark Arts' if she tried to punish us," he said, shrugging. "And I put emphasis on the Dark Arts part, trust me."

"Sirius Black," she said, slightly awed, "you just might be the most brilliant wizard I have ever known."

He grinned again, though she wondered if his cheeks were slightly pink. "You woo me with your words, Cassie Alderfair. Should we celebrate our close shave with death by actually fornicating atop a teacher's desk?"

Cassie blanched, embarrassment crashing into her like a tidal wave.

"If you ever breathe a word of that to anyone, I swear by Morgana and Merlin and every other sacred wizard on this earth that I will kill you in the most agonizing manner possible," she said, ignoring her burning face and Sirius's stupid smirk. "I'm serious, Sirius!"

"You should see the look on your face," he said, letting out a bark of laughter. "Good Godric, Cassie, I'm not going to tell anyone, I swear! I'm quite done being Hogwarts' topic of gossip for the time being."

"That's a first," she quipped. "I thought you loved being the center of attention?"

"I do," he agreed, gesturing her after him as they walked toward the Fat Lady, "but I know how much you hate it, and I don't want you to go through any more shit than you already have."

"Oh," she said, blinking. "Er, thanks, Sirius. That's very...considerate of you."

He turned slightly, giving her a half-smirk that made her stomach do that odd swoop again.

"I guess you could say you inspired me to turn over a new leaf," he said. "As much as I hate to admit it, you bring out the good in me, Princess. Even though it detracts slightly from my image as the bad boy of Hogwarts."

She laughed. "Trust me, Sirius, nothing could ever change that."

"Maybe," he said, shrugging. "Except you."

The words surprised her, and she stopped walking to cast him a weird look. Upon noticing that she was no longer beside him, he stopped too, turning to look at her with a quizzical brow raised. "What?"

"Just you," she said simply.

He gazed back at her, his eyes unreadable and that half-smirk still on his face, and her stomach gave another jolt as he continued to stare at her. The corridor was beginning to feel too small, and she shuffled her feet awkwardly as he took a hesitant step toward her, watching her carefully as if afraid she would try to run away.

She stood her ground, however, as he came closer, until he was standing right in front of her—so close that she could smell his aftershave and something else she couldn't quite place, though she knew it was distinctly him. She lifted her head to meet his eyes, shocked at his face's proximity to hers, but in the dim light of the corridor it was hard to make out any details except the muted grey of his irises, and her heart gave a nervous flutter.

His hand reached up, and ever so slowly, he pushed back her hair from her face, his fingertips brushing her cheekbone and making every nerve in her body tingle from the faint touch. She said nothing, only continuing to gaze at him as he leaned forward slightly, his hand moving to the nape of her neck.

"Are you two going to stand out here all night or are you going to give me the password?" the Fat Lady said grouchily from behind them, and Cassie and Sirius jerked apart, whatever brief spell they had been under now broken.

"Er, sorry," Cassie said, running a hand through her hair while Sirius coughed beside her. "Quid agis."

"Exhausted, at this rate," the Fat Lady huffed before swinging forward and permitting them entrance. They clambered through the portrait hole, emerging into the common room before being bowled over by Peter.

"You're alive!" he squeaked, bouncing from foot to foot as if he really needed to use the loo. "I thought you were in for as soon as she ran into you!"

"Yeah, thanks, Pete, for doing anything to stop her," Sirius said, and the blond boy shrank under his piercing gaze.

"It's not Peter's fault, Sirius," Cassie said, feeling a spike of pity go through her at Peter's wilted frame. "I was the one who kept us in there after he had warned us; getting caught is on me."

"Wait," Remus said, standing up from where he had been perched on the arm of one of the chairs by the fireplace and startling Cassie; she hadn't realized he was there. James, however, was nowhere to be seen. "You two got caught? What happened?"

Cassie grimaced, but she relayed the tale of their narrow escape to the two boys, carefully omitting the lie Sirius had made up to Carlisle about why they had been in there, though she couldn't help throwing a glare at him when she noticed the wide smirk on his face.

"Sirius, that was genius," Remus said, sounding grudgingly impressed. The other boy gave a small bow, and Remus turned to her. "So, you have the papers, then?"

Cassie nodded, extracting the two scrolls she had taken from her sleeves, and they all moved to a table by the window. Faint moonlight shone through the high window, lending the table an eerie atmosphere as she placed the scrolls in the center.

"We should wait for James," Remus said. "He'll want to see this, too."

The four of them sat in silence for half an hour in the empty common room, listening to the popping of lone embers in the fireplace. Peter had begun to chew on his fingernails, lost in thought, and Sirius had his elbows and chin on the table next to him, staring intently at the scrolls as if he could read what was inside them. Remus gazed out the window, his eyes tracking the moon's path through the sky, and Cassie sat with her heels on her chair, her arms wrapped around her knees as the minutes dragged.

Finally, at around three o'clock in the morning, the portrait hole swung open, revealing the lanky form of James as he stumbled into the common room, still wearing nothing but his boxers and socks.

"I'm flattered you all stayed up for me," he said cheerfully. "Let me change into something more modest and I'll be back."

Several minutes later he returned, taking the remaining seat between Cassie and Remus. "So, what'd I miss?"

"Nothing too special," Cassie said before anyone else could speak. She untangled her limbs and sat up straight in her seat. "What about you?"

James grinned. "Same here. Filch couldn't disprove my terrible sleepwalking habits, so I was let off with a warning. Poor chum; he looked like I'd shaved off all of Mrs. Norris's fur when he realized he couldn't punish me."

"At least the sacrifice of your dignity was worth it; we got what we were looking for." She gestured to the scrolls, and James rubbed his hands together eagerly.

"All right, then," he said. "Let's see it."

Cassie plucked one of the scrolls from the center and tugged it open, rolling it flat against the table with her palm and revealing the list of the Four Founders she had seen so long ago. It still looked the same: Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff's names both had the word 'FOUND' written next to them in big letters, Rowena Ravenclaw's name was still inked with a question mark, and Godric Gryffindor's name was still bolded, as if the professor had retraced the letters with her quill several times over.

"Well, you weren't kidding," James said, peering closely at the parchment. "Any idea what this means?"

"Not even one," she said sourly. She had hoped that with Will's extra clues the list would be easier to decipher, but she was no closer to understanding it than before.

"We'll come back to it," Remus said, sensing her frustration. "Maybe the other scroll can help us."

Cassie pried open the second scroll, her eyebrows shooting up when at least fifteen inches of parchment unfurled in her hands, the bottom edge just barely brushing her knees.

"Merlin, what is that?" James asked. "That's longer than all the essays I've written combined."

Cassie's eyes roved over the parchment, first taking in the miniscule black writing inked out in uniform lines before reading the title and letting out a gasp.

"I don't believe it," she said, laying the parchment flat so everyone else could see. "It's Miranda's story!"

"The Gauntlet of Gryffindor?" Remus asked, and she nodded.

"And it's in modern English," James said, looking up from his perusal of the paper. "We don't need to translate it."

"Well, go on, then," Sirius said impatiently. "Let's read it and figure out what the bloody hell Will wants."

"No," Cassie said, suddenly seized by a protective desire. "I think I want to read it by myself first."

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but Remus silenced him with a look. "That's fine, Cass. We understand. It's a big step."

"Does this mean I can sleep?" James asked.

"Go on to bed," she said, not taking her eyes off the paper. "We'll talk in the morning."

"You don't need to tell me twice," James said, getting to his feet. "'Night, Princess."

She bid them all goodnight, listening to their footsteps ascend the stairs and only looking up when she noticed Sirius still standing by the table, watching her.

Heat flooded her face once more when she recalled what had happened outside of the portrait hole earlier, her heartbeat quickening, and she wondered if she had imagined the whole thing: how close he had been to her, the smell of him, the way his hand had moved along her skin, those silver eyes boring into her as he had leaned in, and possibly the most startling revelation of all, that perhaps she wouldn't have minded if his lips had indeed met hers...

"You should get some sleep, Sirius," she said, looking back to the parchment and hoping he hadn't noticed whatever emotions she felt playing out across her face.

"You should, too," he said quietly.

"In a bit," was her only reply, and when she didn't say more, he turned for the stairs.

"'Night, Cassie."

"'Night, Sirius."

She watched him retreat up the boys' staircase, her gaze lingering far longer than was necessary. Her mind taunted her with all that had happened earlier, remembering his offer to fornicate atop a teacher's desk, and though she knew it had been a joke, heat quite unlike the one staining her cheeks pink swept through her, making her bite her lip.

Not allowing her thoughts to wander further and quashing down whatever she was experiencing, she turned back to the issue at hand, smoothing out the parchment so the candlelight caught the words better, and began to read.

The Gauntlet of Gryffindor

In a dark and enchanted wood, there lived a sprightly and cunning creature. This creature could take many forms: forms meant to frighten, forms meant to cheer, forms meant to do most anything. What his true form was, no one could ever tell, but those who encountered him gave him the name Gwarwyn-a-throt, or simply 'Thief'.

Gwarwyn-a-throt was known by many a traveler as a mischievous spirit often found guarding the entrance of the wood atop a well, demanding payment in exchange for the travelers' safe passage, for he knew all the creatures of the wood and could speak to them, and could persuade them to hunt elsewhere until the travelers were gone.

Coins were of no value to the Thief; he preferred the gift of trinkets above all, and so it was with heavy hearts that travelers paid tribute with their fine gold rings and precious family heirlooms, their exquisite silver jewelry and shiny delicate baubles. Those who tried to retrieve their trinkets when they reached the end of the wood never succeeded; Gwarwyn-a-throt was much too clever for them, and thrice cursed them before sending them on their way. Those travelers were usually found only weeks later, dead after some unnatural incident, and Gwarwyn-a-throt's power only grew.

One misty evening, a lone rider appeared on the road leading into the wood. He was tall and proud, his hair fair and fine, and his countenance one of sternness, but also gentleness. Godric Gryffindor was his name, and to many people was his name known. A chivalrous man, a brave warrior, and a wise wizard was he, eloquent of mouth and skilled of magic. Alone in his house in the wood, Gwarwyn-a-throt sensed the rider approach, and the Thief became gleeful, for he knew of Godric, and surmised that he would pay a fetching trinket to pass through the wood unharmed.

When Godric reached the mouth of the wood, Gwarwyn-a-throt appeared to him on the rim of his well, gangly and wily with a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Hail, Godric Gryffindor!" cried the Thief, his voice croaking and cackling. "What brings you to my wood?"

"I seek passage through here," replied Godric, straight and proud. "Yet I have heard of you, Thief, and your price to pass in peace, but you will receive no payment from me."

"And why is that?" asked the Thief.

"Because I am Godric Gryffindor, wielder of the Sword and Gauntlet of Gryffindor, and my own power will help me pass through the wood," boasted Godric.

Gwarwyn-a-throt's eyes only gleamed, but said, "O! mighty Gryffindor's Sword and Gauntlet! I have heard of their great power, and wish to strike a bargain with thee!"

"There will be no bargains," said Godric. "Now, go back to your home and allow me to be on my way!"

"Very well," said the Thief, snapping his spindly fingers. "If mighty Gryffindor will not pay in trinkets, then he shall pay in favors."

"What do you mean?" asked Godric.

"I am the Guardian of the Wood, and I say who shall pass and who shall not," said the Thief. "Payment will be made, even by those as mighty as thee."

"What favors do you mean?" said Godric. "Speak! As the Sun is growing ever dimmer."

"Three tasks for thee," said the Thief. "Complete them, and thou shall pass unhindered; fail, and my nasty critters will snatch you up!"

"And what are these tasks?" asked Godric, still astride his noble beast.

The Thief held up three gnarled fingers.

"Firstly, thou will fetch me firewood for my home—though only the wood from the lonely Ember Tree!

"Secondly, thou will catch my dinner for the night—but only from the grove in which the sprites play and the pixies dance!

"And thirdly, thou will defeat the evil jabberwock from the mountains. Then, and only then, will the mighty Gryffindor be allowed to pass through my wood unmaimed and unsullied!"

Godric, never one to deny a challenge, accepted the terms.

"But what, pray tell, do you receive once I have completed your tasks?" asked Godric. "Surely you, Thief, have some trickery up your sleeve?"

"No trickery, noble Gryffindor," answered the Thief. "And what do I receive, you ask? Why, what else do I need besides some firewood for my hearth and some supper to last me? And why must I resort to trickery to banish the nasty jabberwock?"

"I know your ways, Thief," said Godric. "There is always a price to pay."

"Then a price shall be named," responded the Thief. "Something of value of my choosing once your tasks have been completed; and in return for this unnamed trinket, I will allow you to pass through my wood unhindered for the rest of your days."

"I do not trust your bargains, Thief, but I will complete your tasks," said Godric. "Now, allow me to go forth so as I may do them."

And with that, Gwarwyn-a-throt gave a low bow and disappeared with a CRACK, and so Godric went and began his tasks.

Cassie halted in her reading abruptly when the story ended. She flipped the parchment over, but there was nothing else to read. The rest of the story was missing.

Frustration spiked through her, and she threw the scroll back onto the table with a scowl. Why was Will making everything so bloody difficult for her? She couldn't find a straight answer anywhere, and just when she thought she had something, it turned out to be useless.

She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms angrily, glaring out the window and to the sliver of moon peeking behind a cloud.

I'm not giving up so easily, Will, she thought vehemently. I'll find out your secrets, and when I do, you're going to regret ever keeping them from me.

When Cassie next opened her eyes, it was to find herself in pitch darkness. Gone was the Gryffindor common room and the chair she had previously been sitting in, to be replaced by a soft mattress and warm sheets. Faint moonlight drifted through a window across the room, with a rosy glow attached to it that marked the coming of the dawn.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, a shadow to her right moved, and she sat up, squinting through the gloom.

"Sirius?" she whispered, and the shadow jumped, letting out a soft curse that confirmed her suspicions. "What are you doing?"

"Making a bed," he replied, and it clicked that she was in his dormitory. The faint sounds of the other boys' breathing were now discernible once she focused, and she realized that she must be in Sirius's bed if he was making one on the floor.

"How did I get here?" she asked. The last thing she remembered was staring at the moon after she had finished reading Miranda's incomplete story.

"I went to check on you after an hour or so," he said, grunting when he sat down on the floor. "You had dozed off and I didn't want to wake you, so I carried you up here since the girls' dormitory was out of the question."

For some inexplicable reason, the explanation made her blush, and she was glad he couldn't see her face. "Oh. Well, thank you."

"You're welcome."

Silence fell upon the dormitory once more, and Cassie stared at the canopy above the bed, twisting her fingers in the soft downy duvet. Sleep tugged at her, begging her to close her eyes, but she suddenly felt far too wired to sink into the exhaustion she felt.

"Did you get the scrolls off the table?" she asked.

"Yeah, they're on the bedside next to you," Sirius replied from the floor.

"Good. Thanks." It was quiet again until Cassie blurted, "You didn't have to carry me up here, you know."

"I know." He sounded amused, which only increased her urge to babble.

"I would have been perfectly fine on one of the couches," she said, and he gave a light snort.

"I'll remember that the next time I find you drooling on the table," he said, and her face reddened in mortification.

"Well, you can remember that the next time you have to sleep on the floor," she retorted.

"Are you suggesting there are other places for me to sleep while you occupy my bed?"

"Don't say it like that."

"Say what?"

"Occupy my bed. It sounds weird."

"You're weird."

"Very mature, Black."

"Says the one who calls me a drama queen daily."

"Because that's true. Stating facts is the height of maturity, thank you very much."

"Why do you keep talking? Go to sleep."

Cassie turned her head to glare at him, even though he was hidden from her sight by the bed. "Just for that, I'm going to keep talking."

"I can always ignore you," he pointed out.

"Yes, but you won't," she said smugly.

"Oh?" She could hear the challenge in his voice, and she grinned to herself. "And why do you think that?"

"I just know it," she said. "You can never resist the temptation of getting the one-up on me."

He grumbled to himself, and her grin widened. "Since when do you know me so well, Alderfair?"

"It's a talent, I guess."

"A bloody annoying one," he replied, and she stifled a laugh.

Another silence stretched between them, one so long she thought he might have fallen asleep, but after several minutes she heard him shifting on the floor, muttering to himself. "Sodding floor. Why can't you be comfortable?"

"Having trouble?" she said.

"This is a lot more uncomfortable than I imagined," he admitted. "Could you toss me another pillow?"

"You could just sleep up here." The words were out of her mouth before she could process them, but when she did, she mentally slapped herself.

Her embarrassment only grew when he didn't immediately respond, and she debated feigning sleep until he said, "Are you sure?"

A chance—he was giving her a chance to laugh it off as a joke and deny him. Her jaw worked for a moment before she said, "Yes."

Alarm bells began to ring in her head as he heaved himself off the floor. She kept her eyes fixed on the canopy when the mattress dipped on her other side, his body sliding into the covers next to hers.

Why had she said yes? There was no way she would be sleeping now, not when another person was so close to her—not when he was so close to her. What was the matter with her?

"You all right?" She started at the sound of his voice so near, and she nodded quickly.

"I'm just tired," she said, hoping he couldn't feel her hammering heart through the mattress.

She sensed his gaze on her, but she stared adamantly up, not sure how she would react if she saw those silver eyes boring into her with so little space between them again. She could still feel the phantom touch of his lips on hers, and that same heat from earlier ignited her body with the memory of it.

"Cass."

"Hm?"

"You haven't taken a breath since I've laid down."

She inhaled exaggeratedly and sensed him roll his eyes.

"You're insufferable," he said.

She snickered. "I've been called worse, and mostly by you."

"You know I'm only joking when I say those things, yeah?" He rolled over on his side, propping his elbow up and resting his head in his hand. The alarm bells began clanging louder from his proximity and his beseeching gaze. "And all that stuff from before we were friends... Well, I'm sorry."

"I know," she said, her voice coming out in a wheeze. She chanced a glance at him and her heart stuttered when she saw the way he was looking at her.

Cassiopeia Marie Alderfair, if you don't get yourself together right now...

"Er, goodnight," she said, hastily turning on her other side so she was facing away from him and his stupid smirking face.

He chuckled softly behind her, and she burrowed deeper into the sheets to escape the sound, praying for sleep to come quickly. She had only been laying still for a few brief moments when suddenly she was flipped onto her back, her cry of protest quelled when she looked up and saw that face mere inches from hers. Her spine tingled when his knees locked her in place, his hands barring her from moving to either side.

"All right, Alderfair, out with it," he said.

"Out with what?" she whisper-shouted. "Get off me!"

"Not until we come to some sort of conclusion here," he said, and if she could have moved her arms, she would have thrown them up in exasperation.

"What in Godric's name are you talking about?" she hissed.

"You and me," he said. She glared up at him petulantly, which only caused him to grin faintly. "I think it's time we established our relationship."

"We're friends, you dolt, how many times do I have to say it?" she said. "Now, can I go back to sleep?"

"No," he said stubbornly. "C'mon, Cass, don't play dumb with me. Yeah, we're friends, but there's something else there. I know you felt it tonight, outside of the portrait hole."

Did that mean he had been meaning to snog her? Oh, Merlin...

"I think this is hardly the time to discuss this," she said, her throat oddly tight. "We're friends, Sirius."

"Are you going to deny it, then?" he demanded. "Y'know, a lot of people think I'm insensitive and all that other rubbish, but that doesn't mean I'm not perceptive. I can read people, Cassie, just as I can read you."

"And what do I say?" she challenged.

"That you don't want to admit you have feelings for me," he said, and she gaped before irritation swept through her.

"Get off me," she said coldly.

He didn't budge.

She clenched her fists, not having the patience to deal with this tonight, if ever. "Get. Off. Me."

To his credit, Sirius didn't back down, merely opting to gaze at her with an unreadable expression.

"What are you afraid of?" he asked her.

She pressed her mouth into a firm line, and something flickered in his stare before it was gone. Annoyance? Hurt? Confusion?

"Fine," he said, when it was clear she was not going to answer. "Suit yourself, Cassie. It's up to you now." He got up and sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm not going to interrogate an answer out of you. When you know, you know where to find me. I'm leaving this to you."

"Leaving what up to me?" she snapped, breaking her stubborn silence.

His eyes locked with hers once more, and this time, they weren't unreadable. She could see the emotion in them, and panic seized her once more when she saw it—the one thing she was refusing to let herself believe in, to have hope for.

"I don't know when it happened," he said, his voice a rushed whisper, as if he were trying to get it all out before she could stop him. "I don't know if it hit me all at once or if it was gradual, but I think I feel something for you, Cass, something more than what I have with the others. And I know you feel it too, which is why I'm not going to force you to say it now. Say it whenever you're ready, and I'll be there."

He turned his back and slithered to his makeshift bed on the floor again, leaving her in stunned silence.

Cassie lay awake for a long time afterward, watching the sun's rays bleed through the window as Sirius's words bled through her veins, and she thought to herself, with some distant, twisted humor, that her life just became more complicated than ever.