Sirius groaned and squeezed his eyes even tighter together. Though they were already closed, the flood of light entering the hospital wing as curtains rattled open caused a dull throb to hammer in his temple. He let out another grunt as he felt a new weight shift the mattress as it settled down beside him.

“Good morning.”

Sirius’ eyes flew open at the voice, and almost like magic, there she was. Relief washed over him. It had been almost three days since he had been admitted to the hospital wing, and Sirius had yet to be tended by her again. He was beginning to think that the girl he had caught barely a glimpse of had been nothing more than a hallucination. But there she was.

“Do you remember me?” she asked, her eyes instinctively scanning over him to check wounds and bandages, completely unaware that she was under observation herself.

Lily was right, Sirius thought, amused at her quiet hums of approval and clicks of the tongue. She wasn’t beautiful. He now realized the aura of light surrounding her now as it had before, giving her an angelic resemblance, had been nothing more than the sunlight draping the whole infirmary. Her hair was tied up in a tight bun that revealed rather ordinary brown eyes and unremarkable features. Her face was clean and unpainted and her nails were short and practically shaped. Her pale skin appeared washed out against the whiteness of her training robes.

Not beautiful, he thought again, but there was…something.

“I’m not surprised,” she continued, lifting one of his bandaged arms and settling it into her lap. Slowly she began to meticulously unwrap the thin cloth. Careful, Sirius thought, so as not to cause him any more discomfort than necessary.

”You’ve had a rough couple of days, no doubt. Madame Pompfrey’s had me working mostly night shifts, so you’ve been asleep most of the time I’ve come to check on you. I’m �“”

”Miriam,” Sirius said. A smile spread across her face, and there it was. A rosy tint bloomed in her cheeks and her eyes twinkled, as if smiling all on their own. Suddenly her eyes didn’t seem as ordinary, her face so unremarkable. No, thought Sirius, amazed that for a moment he had thought her to be plain. Smiling down at him, Miriam looked utterly bewitching. Sirius had the unsettling idea that he would do anything to make her smile again. Slightly disconcerted, he shoved the thought to the back of his mind.

“That’s right,” Miriam said, pleased. But something twitched in her stomach as she realized he was looking at her rather intently. His eyes, dark and intense, never wavered from her face and stared, unabashedly. She couldn’t explain it, but she had the strangest sensation of being exposed and vulnerable. Heat rose to color her cheeks and she cursed her disloyal pale skin. Probably so used to making girls go weak with a look, she thought defiantly.

Ridiculously uncomfortable, Miriam sought to relax herself by doing what she did best: heal. His arm lying limply across her legs, she picked up a bottle and poured a drop of almond-smelling oil into her hand. Rubbing her palms together, she gently lifted his arm and began to massage her hands back and forth his arm, adding just the slightest amount of pressure, expertly kneading the sensitive skin.

“I wasn’t sure you knew who I was,” she said, he eyes concentrating on the scarred flesh.

“Of course I know who you are,” Sirius said. Rather than numbing, a subtle heat spread throughout his arm with each stroke, her fingers slick and smooth with the warm oil. “We’ve had dozens of classes together,” he said, not missing a beat. By God, her hands felt glorious against his tender skin. “You’re Lily’s friend. We have, ah, Divination together this term. ”

Miriam made a noncommittal humming noise in her throat. She turned the arm over and began to rub slow circles around his palm with her thumbs, concentrating on keeping the pressure light yet firm.

“At least you haven’t been lonely up here,” Miriam said. She glanced up from her lap to the arrangement of flowers, cards, and candies that had collected on the night tables surrounding the bed. “You seem to have quite a fan club. Madame Pompfrey said she had to shoo out gaggles of admirers each night.” She kept her voice light and teasing, and fluttered her eyes lashes exaggeratedly so he laughed. “What were you doing all the way out there, anyway?”

Distracted, Sirius clenched his free hand. It itched to brush away the rebellious tendril of hair that had fallen astray from her ruthless twist. In fact, it itched to free the whole bunch of it altogether and have it tumbling down into his hand.

“Are you alright?”

Annoyed with himself, Sirius wrenched his attention away from the stray lock.

“I just thought it was about time someone showed that bloody tree who’s boss, that’s all,” he said, shrugging.

“Mission accomplished,” Miriam agreed. “I’m sure that good for nothing tree learned a valuable lesson: Never mess with a rebel schoolboy unless you want to suffer the infuriated glares of indignant teenage girls.”

“You should be thanking me, you know,” Sirius said haughtily. Miriam’s jaw dropped. “If it weren’t for my bravery �“ (Miriam snorted) �“ you never would have had the opportunity to practice your magic on such a salacious subject.”

“Corpse is more like it,” said Miriam. Something clenched in her stomach as she remembered the lifeless mess that was wheeled into her care. Remembered the way her stomach had dropped when she had wiped away enough blood to recognize the mangled face. The shock of tears as they swelled in the back of her throat. How a massive weight she hadn’t even realized was there lifted when he had awoken and looked at her for the first time.

Miriam was aware the praise Madame Pompfrey was doling out about her to whoever would listen, and she wasn’t fool enough to believe that she didn’t deserve it; but nor was she hesitant to admit for a moment, at least to herself, that she hadn’t been positively terrified before, during, and after the operations. Miriam had never considered herself particularly brave, and she accepted that. However, despite the panic racing through her mind, the horrible churning her belly, her inability to breathe properly, Miriam’s hands as they repaired her schoolmate had remained steady as a rock.

Sirius frowned at the way the pinkness seemed to drain rapidly from her cheeks. As she massaged her way down again to his fingers, he curled them over one of her hands and held it there. The gesture was meant to comfort, but rather it surprised her enough to have her eyes jerk back to his.

“However,” he said, keeping his voice light, “I’m under the impression that it’s I who should be thanking you.”

“Your welcome.” Miriam found she very much wanted her hand back.

“And I want to make it up to you.”

“You really don’t have to �“”

“So,” he continued on, as though he hadn’t heard a word of her protest, “I’ve decided to take you to the Halloween ball with me as a way of showing my gratitude.” Sirius smiled grandly.

Miriam blinked. There was a gleam in her eye that Sirius couldn’t quite place before she cast them downwards to their joined hands. Probably rendered her speechless, he thought, and grinned even broader.

“Well,” she said finally, looking back to him, her eyes slightly narrowed, her smile slightly wicked. “I must admit, that is quite an offer. But I’m afraid I’ll have to say no.”

“Great,” said Sirius. “So I’ll pick you up at - wait, what? No?”

Miriam had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. The wide-eyed, blank expression on his face was almost to good to be true. As casually as possible she stood, freed her hand out of his weak grip, and moved to straighten some of the flower arrangements.

“That’s right. No thank you. You should get some rest now, there’s �“”

“Hold on just a second,” he said, unable to keep the stunned disbelief from his voice. He couldn’t think of a time when he had ever been so completely taken aback. “Why no? Why not?”

“Oh, please, “ she laughed, amused at the color rising to his face. “We both know I’m not your type. I’m sure you’d much rather be going to the ball with…” she lifted the tag from one of the more elaborate bouquets and read, “Margaret Hanson. She seems to be very fond of you, and she’s rather pretty. Why don’t you ask her?”

“I asked you,” growled Sirius, temper hinging at the edges.

“No,” said Miriam, her own temper rising. Sirius had only a moment to be fascinated by the way her eyes could so seamlessly shift from vacant and dull to twinkling amusement to something darker and stormy.

“No, you did not ask me. You told me. You told me that you would be taking me to the dance. So, why not? Well, I’ll give you three reasons why not. First of all, I’m not one of your blond fan club darlings who would swoon at the chance to be acknowledged by the dreamy Sirius Black. Others might take that as gratitude, but I don’t. Second of all, I don’t dance. And third,” she said, her eyebrows raising in what could be interpreted as a taunt, “neither do you.”

“I beg your pardon?” Sirius demanded, gritting his teeth in a futile attempt to keep his voice even. Despite her own anger, the Healer in Miriam was pleased to see the healthy color return to his disposition.

“If you think you’ll be in any condition to dance come Saturday,” she said, fussing casually with the flowers once more, “I’m afraid you’re sadly mistaken. Not even Madame Pompfrey’s good enough to have that leg supporting you by then.”

Now Sirius smiled.

“Is that a challenge?” He was beginning to like the direction this conversation was going.

“No. It’s a fact.”

Sirius considered for about half of a second.

“How about a bet, then? A friendly little wager, if you will.”

Miriam lifted an eyebrow suspiciously.

“What kind of a bet?”

“Simple,” he said. “If I can walk by Saturday night, you have to come to the dance with me. If I can’t, then you don’t. You can remain nice and cozy tucked away in your empty dormitory.” He shrugged. “It’s up to you.”

Miriam considered. It was absolutely impossible, she thought, that he would be crawling by Sunday even. Impossible. But just to be sure, she glanced back down at his leg. When she looked back up, her smile was just as smug and confident as his.

“Alright. Deal.”

She lifted the bottle of oil from his night table and began to walk towards the hospital office.

“Charms,” she called out behind her.

Sirius sat up, his brow furrowed.

“Excuse me?”

“Charms,” she said again. “We’ve never had a Divination class together.”

Satisfied, she walked cheerfully out of the infirmary to get a start on the mountain of paperwork awaiting her.