This is SO UNBELIEVABLY LATE. Dear god, I should have rocks with needles taped to them thrown at my forehead or something equally distressing. I've been suffering through SUCH a terrible writer's block, honestly, and I can't promise that this chapter will be any good, if at all. I've written and rewritten this stupid thing on at least seven separate sheaves of paper, I've tried three different angles to write it from, I've worded and reworded everything… There is no winning with this thing and hopefully this won't suck half as much as I expect it to. I'm sorryyyyyy. I really wanted to update before 2008, but my muse is busy being mauled in the corner of my mind and it wouldn't get up and work properly.

Sirius had not expected it to be this difficult. Two weeks had passed since their 'incident' in the 3rd floor bathroom and, since then, the dark-haired Marauder had been trying to take things as slowly and smoothly as possible. It honestly wasn't as if he didn't understand Remus' needs- he had to study for a few hours every day and get a fair amount of sleep and sometimes he would tutor a few first years- and Sirius respected that, or, at least, as much as he possibly could. It was just, and he was as ashamed to think it as he was to admit it to himself, he felt restless. Of course, his restlessness certainly didn't mean that he was bored of Moony or that he had a wandering eye, but he has needs, needs that drawn curtains, his right hand and a few very good mental images could not possibly begin to sate.

The surprisingly loud tap of a quill's tip against the back of Remus' history course-book temporarily derailed his train of thought and, almost groggily, Sirius unplanted his face from the worn mahogany table, his line of sight swinging up to include his friend. Well, he was more than a friend now and Remus had the lovebites across his shoulders and lower neck to prove it, but 'boyfriend' sounded too… teenage-girly and Sirius wouldn't stand for that. He wasn't dating one of those pretty-but-dim Hufflepuffs after all, he was dating the exclusive and elusive, beautifully clever Remus Lupin and he definitely outranked any buxom blonde that could possibly sashay up to him now.

Remus was sucking on the end of his quill thoughtfully and Sirius, for the hundredth time that day, found himself wishing that he would be treated like one of Remus' precious quills…

"You're staring, Padfoot,"

Remus' voice was soft and obviously amused as he leaned over his sheaf of parchment and continued to write, neat, spindly cursive flowing obediently after the feather's tip. Sirius, who was determined to keep the werewolf from getting the best of him, smirked a little and pulled himself up from the table, cracking his knuckles and wrists before sauntering casually over to the other Marauder's side of the table.

"Sirius, I'm nearly done…"

But, at the press of lips against his neck, his pen froze in the middle of a loopy, cursive 'j', the bottom blotting slightly before he pulled it off the parchment. Of course, blotted j's and 'just-a-minutes' were of no importance to the Animagus who, as he had yet to be rebuked for his move, had only just started to suck teasingly on the back of a certain Mr. Lupin's neck.

"I've only- mmm- another sentence or so to finii- Merlin, if you leave a mark..!"

Sirius knew only too well that threats from Moony- especially when they were directed at him- were just that, threats, and he didn't really hesitate at all in sucking a little harder, his fingers playing at the front buttons of Remus' shirt. After all, Sirius had never, not in all their years of Marauder-ship, had any qualms with blatantly teasing the werewolf when he was trying to get things done, so why on earth would he stop now?

If there was one thing that Sirius had learned since that fateful Sunday, it was that Remus, no matter how furiously he denied it, was incredibly responsive to even the slightest touch. If he ran a finger over the other teen's neck, he would try to stifle a shiver, if he trailed his tongue along the shell of one of Remus' ears, he would quell a quasi-annoyed groan, if he let his hand stray downwards to the werewolf's trousers… he would get shouted at and the contact for the day, unless Remus felt particularly forgiving, would end. He would be lying if he ever said that he wasn't fascinated with each and every reaction that he could milk out of the brunette and Sirius had made it his own personal goal to memorize every shudder, every toss of Remus' head and every low groan, moan or, if he was being too rough, growl.

"And, in conclusion, the cultivation of Streeler eggs for potential remedial use would be not only immoral, but incredibly dangerous as well. In short, the benefits simply would not outweigh the probable consequences of misuse and human greed."

Sirius' mouth reattached itself to Moony's neck as soon as his quill was placed down onto the worn table and Remus couldn't help but bite back a groan. "Sirius, I was thinking…"

The dark-haired Marauder grunted a little in response, to show that he was listening before letting his lips trail down to Remus' collarbone.

"You know, we haven't even had a date yet."

Sirius stopped, gray eyes flicking up from his spot against Moony's upper chest. Regretfully, he pulled back from his spot and straightened up before collapsing back into his chair, his legs thrown over one of the arms, his stare almost boring straight into Remus. In truth, he looked like a petulant child- much like how any young boy would look if he was asked to do something on a Saturday morning or had to go shopping with his mother.

"It's not as if I'm asking much… I just want a proper date, that's all."

Sirius was silent for a moment before he stretched a little in his seat and gave an almost inaudible sigh.

"Well, what would you define as 'proper'? We had one last weekend, you know."

"Last weekend consisted of hiding under a table at the Three Broomsticks for an hour after you threw a dungbomb at Snape and jinxed him into having horrifyingly large lips. And after that, we almost got caught snogging by that third year Hufflepuff."

"That's a date."

"The only thing that we did that we wouldn't have done normally was snog, Sirius. And Peter was there too- that's not a date. Being in your presence and making out afterwards doesn't constitute as a date, despite what your former flings might think." Remus was a little exasperated now and it showed as he treated his books and quills with an uncharacteristic roughness whilst packing up.

"You know, I'd take you down to Madame Puddifoot's for a steaming cup of blatant flamboyancy, but I don't think that you'd appreciate the sentiment."

Moony's eyebrows narrowed drastically and Sirius took that as his cue to stop talking as Remus put away his things, stored his quills in the pocket of his bag and rose to his feet. There was a small purple patch of skin on the back of his neck- hopefully the lycanthrope wouldn't notice it for a little while… However, Sirius was a little surprised when the other Marauder started to walk off, probably towards the common room. Hoping to salvage his dignity, Padfoot grabbed his sweater and ran to catch up to Remus, who was doing a poor job of hiding his obvious bad mood as he stormed down the halls.

"Moony, Moony, look. I didn't think that it was that big a deal to you, but…" He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the glare that Remus was shooting him and it took a moment for him to carry on. "Meet me in the common room at… say… nine thirty, tonight, okay? You've finished all your work and you don't have anyone to tutor or anything to study for, so you can't get out of it. Wear something warm and don't eat dinner, okay?"

And, with a small peck to Remus' lips, Sirius was off, striding down the halls in the opposite direction of the Gryffindor tower, leaving a very bewildered werewolf behind.

It was nine thirty-five and Sirius was late. Maybe he'd taken a little too long in the kitchens- maybe he could've been quicker with the setup and with making sure that Filch would stay away for the evening (he had set off a chain reaction of old exploding snap cards near the Ravenclaw common room and asked Nearly Headless Nick to hold him up if he tried to leave and resume his usual patrolling), but for now, he was climbing the stairs and heading down the hallway to mutter a quick "acromantula" at the Fat Lady's portrait before scrambling in. Of course, after tripping over a pile of books that a third year had carelessly left next to the entrance to the common room and dusting himself off, the clock had just hit nine forty. Padfoot had yet to change clothes, brush his teeth again and put on the 'caw-log-nay' that his slightly off Aunt Andromeda had given him for Christmas. But then again, that was the year before Sirius' mother sent a fairly threatening howler to her sister's house to tell her to stop trying to influence her children into associating with half-bloods and mudbloods through muggle gifts.

Remus was standing there by the stairs, watching Peter who was watching James dig through a book for flowery prose to put into his 'love haiku' to a certain redheaded prefect. In fact, Sirius, if he hadn't just fallen flat on his face in front of the person that he was due to be taking out on a date ten minutes ago, would've actually tried to sneak by him. That was, he would have tried if Peter hadn't snorted at his far from graceful entrance and if Remus hadn't rather obviously rolled his eyes at him before explaining to an otherwise occupied James that 'adorably condescending' had eight syllables in it and that it wasn't the most tactful thing that he could describe Lily as anyway.

"Five minutes, I swear," Padfoot was already heading up the stairs, his breath coming in short, gasping bursts from having run all the way to the common room from the kitchens. Remus didn't even have time to scoff fondly at him- he was already gone.

"Rem- why're you wearing a scarf? The fire's going."

However, Peter's question went unanswered as the werewolf held back a sigh and continued to stare blankly over James' shoulder.

"How about 'gorgeously cruel' for the first line?"

"Are we talking about Lily Evans or a ball-crushing dominatrix, Prongs? … Actually, fair play, go on."

"'Destroying my self-image' is seven syllables, right? She'd probably take that as a compliment… 'Fate's always a cruel mistress'?"

James paused for a moment, tapping his quill against the already heavily scribbled on piece of parchment impatiently.

"Merlin, you're so whipped- why not make the middle line 'I would love to lick your boots' and then the last line could be 'please don't step in shite'?"

Prongs jerked a little at the sound of Sirius' voice from under his chair, but after a small jolt of realization and a minor amount of digging around in his satchel, he excused himself from the table and left Peter, who was busy counting the tiles on the ceiling to keep Remus busy. Remus, at this point in time, was tugging on the ends of his scarf in a slightly nervous fashion and glancing up the stairs to the boys' dormitories, then to the clock and then back again. As soon as James was next to a window and suitably out of earshot, he pulled the mirror out of his sleeve and peered into it for a moment before working out that it was probably sitting on Sirius' bed.

"For your information, I am not whipped- I'm genuinely interested in wooing the ever-intangible Lily. And you're the one who just spent nearly two hours setting up a simple date- are you even dressed yet?"

A thump from the other side of the mirror and the sound of something spraying out of a bottle answered that question and, when something other than the canopy of Sirius' bed came into view in the mirror, it happened to be a very messy looking Padfoot who just so happened to be lying on the floor.

"Simple? You should've seen him- he was really annoyed at me and apparently last weekend's Hogsmeade trip didn't count!"

"You took Peter with you."

"It was still a date! But, I digress- how angry does he look?"

James, who had been sitting on a windowsill, his cheek pressed up against the frosty glass, turned his head to the side to try and inconspicuously figure out the lycanthrope's current mood.

"He doesn't look angry, he looks disappointed. Kinda like how you look whenever Remus won't let you borrow his history essays."

"Damn- I'll be down in a minute, literally."

And the mirror, due to James' sudden inability to see anything properly, was slid under his bed, effectively shutting off contact with his partner in crime. True to Sirius' word, within thirty seconds, he was sweeping down the spiral staircase and offering Remus an arm and a debonair smile. Remus, however, didn't look pleased at all, as he had effectively been waiting for almost twenty five minutes and he'd yet to eat at all this evening, so he politely kept his arms to himself, bid farewell to James and Peter and strode out of the common room, not even waiting for the dark-haired animagus who found himself nearly running in an attempt to keep up.

"And I'm whipped?"

The halls down to the first floor were incredibly cold despite the tapestries lining each wall and the thick rugs across the floors. Remus and Sirius only occasionally lapsed into quiet conversation until Remus would inevitably remember that he was supposed to be annoyed at the other Marauder and fall silent right in the middle of a sentence.

The werewolf didn't even move to look at the other Marauder properly until Sirius told him to stop right in front of the doors to the Great Hall and even then, Remus regarded him with a confused and still slightly affronted air about him.

"Why are we stopping?"

Sirius' lips twitched into a smug sort of grin as he stepped forward and took a hold of Remus' wrist, pulling him gently towards one of the smaller side doors and nudging it open with one shoulder. The entire hall was empty and unbearably quiet- completely dead in comparison to the usually teeming center of Hogwarts.

"Lumos,"

Sirius' wand was the only proper bobbing beacon of light in the entire hall and, as he led a rather perplexed Remus along between the Gryffindor and the Ravenclaw tables, he finally came to a stop, let go of the other's wrist and got on his knees to pull a large red and gold blanket out from underneath one of the benches. After unfolding it onto the Gryffindor table and exposing a small basket that had been wrapped in the middle, he clambered up onto the tabletop, moved the basket to one side and made a beckoning gesture with one finger.

Remus, for a moment, was very confused. This was the date- the supposed step up from hiding under a table at the Three Broomsticks? Oh, yes, now they were going to sit on one instead of beneath one- what a definite improvement. Sirius, however, having guessed that Remus would make his way up whenever he felt the need to, was busy unpacking the basket and spreading out the food next to the blanket, his wand propped up with a small box of chocolate frogs that he'd brought out just for the occasion. And, as soon as he had set out the food- the two bottles of butterbeer, the steak sandwiches that he knew Remus liked and a few little palm-sized Yorkshire puddings, he doused the light, patted the spot on the blanket next to him and lay on his back, waiting.

It took a moment, but, reluctantly, hoping that his shoes wouldn't mark up the table, the bench or the blanket, Remus stepped onto the bench and took an awkward seat next to the animagus, adjusting his scarf self-consciously and refusing to make eye-contact with the other Marauder.

"I don't see why we couldn't have done this in the common room."

Sirius had adjusted his position on the blanket, one leg resting on the other as he tilted his head to Moony's side and gave his friend a roguish sort of grin. "Well, lie next to me and look up."

This time, it didn't take half as much coaxing for Remus to take one of the puddings in hand and to stretch out next to Mr. Black, his eyes finally casting up to stare at the ceiling and the endless expanses of stars that it displayed so openly.

"The common room doesn't have the galaxy bewitched to the ceiling and, I can promise you this- the Astronomy Tower is at least fifty times colder."

Remus' pudding had stopped about two centimeters before his lips as he stared upwards in utter astonishment. He had always known a lot about stars and space, planets and the moon and he remembered being absolutely mystified by the enchanted rafters above the Great Hall when he first came to Hogwarts, but as the years wore on, he had almost forgotten that it was even bewitched in the first place. Thousands and thousands of stars were stretched out before them and, suddenly, Remus didn't mind the arm snaking around his shoulders, nor did he care about the argument that they had had earlier that day. The moon was a waning crescent this evening, he knew that without even having to glance heavenwards, but Sirius had, in a surprisingly thoughtful move, positioned their blanket so that Remus would have to deliberately crane his neck to see it.

The werewolf had never really been a fast eater- he preferred to take his time, to savor every bite, but he had to sit up to eat and drink so as to avoid sloshing butterbeer down his front and across his scarf. After all, he couldn't exactly look all the way up and have dinner at the same time. Sirius seemed to share the sentiment and, for the moment, they both ate in a comfortable silence, just sitting there on the Gryffindor table with their knees bumping constantly as they both tried to stay close so as to keep warm and to keep themselves from tumbling off of the table and onto the benches or the floor.

Remus finished his dinner before Sirius did and, after moving Sirius' wand to a more tactful sort of place (i.e.: his pocket), he took the packet of chocolate frogs and immediately flopped onto his back once more, the box resting on his lower stomach and occasionally twitching on his jumper.

Severus Snape was far from popular – that was a well-known fact. However, what many people did not know or, rather, chose not to acknowledge, was that he had something that many others did not. If one had asked three of the four Marauders what he had that they did not, they probably would have answered with 'virginity', 'a lack of personal hygiene' or 'female genitalia', but that was beside the point. Severus Snape had connections. He was always the first to know of anything monumental that happened within the castle. He had been the first student (apart from the Marauders) who had heard of the now-infamous permanent sticking charm fiasco, after all. So, he had been largely unsurprised when the Bloody Baron slipped through the dungeon walls and informed him of a certain pair of Marauders loitering aimlessly in the Great Hall.

It didn't take over two minutes for Severus to get his cloak and shoes on and as soon as he was dressed, he wasted no time in heading up from the dungeons to the Great Hall.

WOW. That took FOREVER. Seriously. FOREVERRRR. Good things to come in the next chapter though, I can tell you that much! Anywho, I'm hoping to update around 195-205 reviews, but we'll see how that goes, okay? I'm incredibly sorry for the delay, but real life stuff was trying to decapitate me and that's never constructive. Also, as I forgot to credit them earlier, thank you Lara and Jen for betaing for me. I love you guys so hard. Seriously.