Disclaimer: All characters rightfully belong to J.K. Rowling – I am just borrowing them. ;-)
Sirius had heard everything - from the creaking of the front door opening to his mother's portrait's screeching. However with his mind being clouded by the firewhiskey, he remained where he was on the sofa in the upstairs parlor. Truth be told, he felt as if couldn't move because his mind was weighing him down.
The bad thoughts were to blame. On good days, he was able to push them away, and then he had to only deal with being locked away in this damned house, like a pathetic damsel in distress, hoping to escape. However, with every sip of the noxious liquid, he spiraled downward further and further. On this evening, the loss of his best friend was at the forefront of his mind. They had shared countless of brilliant memories together – there were even some from the visits Sirius had paid James when he and Lily had gone into hiding. However, a treacherous rat, who they both used to call a friend, had torn that to pieces and it was because of that rat Sirius had not truly fulfilled his role as Harry's godfather. Sirius felt his grip tighten around the bottle of whiskey. And just as he raised the bottle to his lips, with his mind continuing to wreak havoc, he heard movement behind him.
Turning his head, he could see Remus in his peripheral vision. "Good evening," he slurred, before repeating the words to himself in a muffled tone, amused by the irony.
Remus, who had only wanted to stop by for a moment, eyed his friend. Of all people, Remus understood the most what it was like to be trapped and isolated – the feeling of loneliness was like an old friend to him. However, seeing Sirius in such a state, Remus could not help but feel slightly irritated, knowing part of Sirius' misery was self-inflicted. Remus moved to the side of the sofa. "Why are you doing this to yourself?" he asked.
Sirius gave no response.
Sighing once more, Remus tried again, "You've had too much to drink and feeling bad for yourself is not going to help."
Remus's curtness seemed to reach Sirius because even in his drunken stupor, Sirius knew his friend was right. He stood from the couch but teetered where he stood. Before his knees could give out, Remus reached him and supported him with one arm. He turned him to the door, leading him to his bedroom. "Come on, Padfoot," Remus said, supporting his inebriated friend, "Let's get you to bed."
While climbing the many stairs was a struggle, Remus finally managed to get Sirius into his bedroom. Feeling satisfied, he stepped back as Sirius kicked off his shoes and climbed into his bed. "Are you going to tuck me in, Moony?" Sirius slurred in a taunting manner, as he haphazardly pulled a blanket over himself.
"You seem able enough to do that," he said, and then added, "And, you didn't answer my question from before."
Sirius was silent for a moment, making Remus believe he had forgotten the question so not wanting to press any further, Remus turned towards the door.
"I just wish things were different sometimes," Sirius whispered, suddenly but soberly.
Remus turned around, nearly surprised by his friend's response.
"If it had not been for me," Sirius continued, "Things would be different. I cannot help but ask myself what if I had been their Secret-Keeper? Or rather, what if I had just not gone after that rat? Surely, Harry would be better –"
"You cannot ask yourself those questions, Sirius," Remus sighed, "You'll make yourself go crazy."
Thoughts of James, as well of Lily and Harry, began swirling through Sirius' head again – his mind slowly wandered from the present as his eyes grew heavier. "I miss James," he spoke, his voice cracking as he said his best friend's name, "And it is just incredible how much Harry looks like him."
"Well, he is James' son," Remus wanted to say but Sirius had already drifted to sleep, his thoughts still with him as he began to dream. With a sigh, Remus strode to the doorway and stepped back into the hallway, closing the door gently behind him.
He wakes suddenly. And opening his eyes, Sirius is further surprised by the bright sunlight, which filers through the curtains in his otherwise dismal room. Despite the amount of alcohol he consumed the night before – a nearly empty bottle of firewhiskey sits on his bedside table as evidence – he feels okay. He throws his bed's covers off of him and swings his legs over the side of his bed. He stands and stretches, allowing his body to wake up.
There is a heavy knock on his bedroom. "Get up, Padfoot," a familiar voice, which he had not heard in a long time, exclaims on the other side of the door.
With his heart beating wildly in his chest, Sirius reaches the door and threw it open. "Finally!" James says, exasperatedly. Not believing his eyes, Sirius looks closely at his friend, noting that he looked the same as the time Sirius had last seen him despite the time that had passed. But before Sirius can question him about his appearance, James hands him some toast "Eat up, there's no time to lose!"
"What's going on?" Sirius asks.
"We're going for a ride," James explains, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. "I got a hold of some broomsticks – the weather is beautiful, and it will be like old times."
Sirius looks down at the toast in his hand, and tries giving it back. "I can't leave Grimmauld Place, though," he replies.
"We won't be gone long," James argues, a gleam of mischievousness twinkles in his eyes.
"Where's your sense of adventure anyway?"
Not wanting to let James down, a smile spreads across Sirius' face. "You're right," Sirius agrees. "Give me a moment."
"That's the spirit!" his friend grins before leaving him to get ready.
Soon, Sirius is moving quickly down the stairs of his childhood home – seemingly having finished his breakfast and gotten dressed quickly. He finds James, grinning lopsidedly, as he waits at the bottom, holding two broomsticks. He tosses one to Sirius before leading the way out the front door. Sirius hesitates a moment. Despite how long he had been waiting for a moment like this – a chance to get away – he never expected it, and even more, never expected it to be with his best friend. Pushing his thoughts of doubt from his mind, he moves forward and joins James on the sidewalk (neglecting to notice the lack of people, and general quietness of the street). James had been right about the weather – it was bright and warm, something Sirius had not felt since he was on the run as Snuffles. He mounts his broom, and with a quick glance towards his best friend, he kicks off.
"Where are we going?" Sirius calls to James, as they fly higher and higher.
"Where ever you want to go," James calls.
A determined look falls over Sirius' face as he urges his broomstick forward, wanting it to go faster. As if it reads Sirius's mind, the broom does not hesitate in allowing him to fly faster – further and further away from 12 Grimmauld Place. And with the increasing distance between him and that old, dark place, he feels lighter than and as free as ever. Nothing is there to hold him back now. And as he and James zoom over the housetops of London, he can not help but laugh for he has not been this happy in years.
Author's note: Well, here it is. My first ever Harry Potter-themed one shot! I have other stories in mind, however this came to me and I could not resist writing. For those confused, the last part was a dream sequence. I tried to make it as obvious as possible, but writing does have its limitations. I would love feedback (only constructive feedback, of course), so please feel free to review. :-)