I was reading some Grey's Anatomy quotes looking for inspiration on 1977 when I came along one with Alex talking about first kisses and this just came out... so anyways. I really like it an... yeah! Review? Please?

Dorcas Meadowes kissed me three times in her life.

The first time we were six. I used to love going over to her place for "tea". Her mom would hug and kiss and play and let me touch the furniture, unlike my own museum of a house and my own ice queen of a mother. We would run around and break things and actually have fun.

Dorcas insisted on playing married. Insisted. You are the husband, I am the wife, she said. I made Reg our house elf.

She said we needed to kiss, because that was what married people did. I told her she was stupid. She called me mean and kissed me anyways. She tasted like strawberries.

It was sweet and innocent and so... six.

Regulus told mother about how much fun we had, about games we played and how simply perfect the Meadowes' was. We never went back. He always was ruining things for me.

The second time she kissed me we were in sixth year.

She was in Slytherin. I thought I hated her more than I hated anyone. She was beautiful, stunning even, and when she tried to talk to me, tried to pretend like we were friends and we had kissed when we were six, I ignored her on principle.

I may have kissed a lot of girls since that first one, but that didn't mean I didn't have standards. And no matter how beautiful she was, she was still a Slytherin, and I did not touch Slytherins.

I had heard about her parents. Everyone heard about her parents. It was all over the Prophet. Murdered. For once I went and sought her out. The map said she was in the fourth floor girl's loo.

She looked up when I walked in. Simple things like rules and signs that said girls on it didn't mean I was going to follow them. A scowl formed on her always smiling face. She told me where to go. I didn't move. She screamed at me to leave. I didn't move. She told me to bugger off, that I was sure rich, coming around here, trying to be her friend or whatever when I finally was smart enough to realize that she wasn't ever going to be a bloody death eater. Was I happy, she asked, if this made me glad that her family, a long line of Slytherins, finally got what they deserved? If I realized that it didn't mean she was evil, the fact that she wore green. Did my parents deaths finally managed to get that through your thick skull, she shouted. She was in front of me, screaming and yelling and crying and I didn't move. Her nose was running and her hair was greasy and she was swearing in ways that would have made a Marauder cringe. She hit me once and I didn't move. She hit me again and again, sobbing. When she finally stopped I pulled her into a hug, whispered apology after apology.

She finally stopped crying. She looked at me, looked into my eyes. She was still beautiful, snotty and greasy and everything. She kissed me hard and fast and before I had full registered what was going on and the taste of her salty tears it was over.

She muttered some sort of an apology and stumbled back looking at my shoes. But I could still feel my lips tingling and when she made to walk past me, to leave, I grabbed her back. I asked if she had somewhere to stay, considering there were death eaters sleeping next to her, maybe she could stay with me. She met my eyes and nodded, said something about Dumbledore putting her somewhere safe and that she could handle herself, thank-you-very-much. I let her arm go, and nodded, this time it was my turn to point my eyes at the ground as she stared at my face. She looked a little confused and thanked me awkwardly and muttered another apology again and walked out of the loo.

The third time she kissed me was when I was twenty.

The Order had gotten together for an impromptu Christmas Party. We were laughing and joking and singing and drinking. I was drink, drank, drunk. She was wearing green again. She always wore green, defending her house and her colour at any instant if need arose. She was leaving the kitchen at the same time I was entering. She smiled warmly at me and wished me a Happy Christmas. I smiled at her and said the same. She was walking away when James stopped her with a smile. You're under the mistletoe he laughed. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Please, Potter she sighed. I've already kissed Black too much in this life time. I grinned my famous Black grin at her. She smiled despite herself, I could tell she didn't want to. She kissed me at James insistence, but this time I was ready for it, this time I knew what I was doing.

When our lips finally touched, I could feel it everywhere. It was a kiss so hot and so deep I didn't want to come up for air. I couldn't pull away, I couldn't cheat this kiss. She tasted like fire whiskey, not strawberries and youth or tears and sorrow. It was only when she pulled away that I remembered we were in a public place. Whoa.

I think Peter had to change his pants after witnessing that kiss.

She laughed nervously and ran a hand through her tousled hair. I hardly remembered touching it and my hand itched toward it again. She edged past me into the living room, and I moved past her into the kitchen. James followed me in. What was that? He asked, laughing. I didn't know and told him as much. But holy. He agreed.

I went out for a smoke a couple hours later. Lily's disapproving stare following me. Smoking kills, she yelled after me. We've discussed it before, I yelled back, the chances of lung cancer being my cause of death was almost a statistical anomaly.

Dorcas was outside, jacket wrapped tightly around her while she puffed away in the cold. I asked for a light, she complied. We stood silently for a minute, smoking. I didn't know what she was thinking, but my mind was running a mile a minute.

Your place or mine?

She asked me as she put out her smoke with her shoe. I grinned my grin, about to answer, when Gideon Prewett yelled out at us from the door. Attack. We needed to go.

The next day I kissed Dorcas Meadowes and I was still twenty. She was beautiful and her hair was clean and her lips were red. Her clothes had been picked out by Lily and Marlene and her shoes probably cost more than my apartment. She lay perfectly still in her oak casket as I kissed her forehead. For a moment I waited for her to wake up. And then the moment passed and I sat down.

When I was thirty six I heard a girl laugh behind I veil and I met those red lips straight on.

That little button right there, says reviews, makes my day... no big, love you.. I know this is pathetic but pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee........ haha.