Summary: They were four best friends, if not brothers, and four fighters, if not winners. Of the Marauders, in trials of love, life, and - inexplicably - blood. [Mild LJ.]

Author's Note: Um. Hi. So this is really old... Sorry if it's not too great. *winces* Still, opinions would be greatly appreciated. :)

Requiem in Red and Gold

(a Marauders tribute, of sorts)

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" friendship "

(1971-1972)

James stared at the brown-haired boy that had his nose buried in a book. Lupin was his name - or at least, that's what James remembered from the Sorting.

"Hi, Lupin," said James, flopping down onto a chair, trying to mimic a seventh year he had once seen. "What're you reading?"

The other boy barely looked up. "Defense textbook."

"Ah..." James glanced around the common room, feeling awkward. It was late, and anyone else that was around his age was already asleep - except for Lupin and Black. The latter had shoved himself in a corner and was scribbling in what appeared to be a sketchpad. Besides, James had been warned against talking to Sirius Black by the older students, and he didn't dare disobey them. So he went to talk to Lupin.

Or at least, he intended to talk to Lupin. The boy wasn't putting much effort into conversation.

"Is it... Er, is it interesting?"

Lupin's head snapped up, and he surveyed James with cool, calculating blue eyes. "What?"

"The, erm, the Defense text." James squirmed in his seat, staring at the fire. "Is it any good? I only flipped through it..."

Well, that was a lie. He hadn't picked up any of his schoolbooks yet this year.

Lupin's eyebrows shot up. "Um, it's good." He closed the book slowly, still eyeing James with wariness. "Uh... Why are you talking to me?" Then, his eyes widened, and he amended, "I mean, why're you talking to me of all people? Wouldn't you rather talk with someone else - ?"

James tilted his head to the side. "What, Lupin? Am I scary?"

Lupin flushed. "No." After a beat, he added, "My name's Remus, by the way."

"Well, Remus," James said, offering his hand in a business-like way - just like he had seen his father do on numerous occasions. "I'm James Potter. I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

Remus's lips twitched into a half-amused, half-apprehensive grin. "Right."

"You're late, Mister Potter." The woman who spoke was stern and crisp, with neat violet robes and a pointed hat. She could have been pretty, perhaps, if her mouth wasn't set in a thin line and her dark hair wasn't pulled into a tight bun. James recognized her as Professor McGonagall, the one who had led them into the Sorting the day before.

"Sorry, erm, Professor, ma'am," James panted, leaning against the doorframe. He could almost feel the suppressed mirth in his classmates, who were all staring at him. "I woke up late."

"I can tell," she remarked dryly. "Nevertheless - please do take a seat next to Mister Black."

James glanced over at Sirius, who eyed him for a moment, then grinned, approval shining in his gray eyes.

Ah, to hell with what other people thought.

Without a word of protest, James plonked down on the seat next to Sirius, making said boy's ink spill, but neither of them bothered to clean it up. McGonagall didn't bother telling them off, but her glare increased.

Sirius passed him a note that read in elegant, obviously trained handwriting:

What d'you think McGonagall would do if we planted Dungbombs under the tables?

James decided right then and there that he and Sirius would be the best of friends.

Peter Pettigrew was a small boy, who still retained his baby fat. His skin had a reddish tinge to it, and his eyes were watery. He was James's last roommate, and was all too eager to be friends with the outgoing James Potter.

"Hi, I'm James."

"P-Peter. Peter Pettigrew."

"Nice name."

"Yeah..."

"Wanna sit next to me in Charms? Sirius won't - he's trying to bully Remus into talking - so I was just wondering."

"Yeah! Yeah, sure. Of course. Will do."

"All right then. Bye, Peter."

"Bye!"

And that was that.

They didn't match, at first, not as famously and not as well as everyone thought. There were always opposites.

Remus and Peter were shy. James and Sirius were boisterous.

Remus and Peter studied and tried. James and Sirius got their high grades without any sort of effort.

Remus distanced himself from the world. Sirius was trying so hard to fit into it.

James was naturally popular. Peter was naturally... not.

Remus liked to read. James found it boring.

Peter had a liking for Herbology. Sirius killed any plant he came into contact with.

James and Remus - as surprising as it was - loved Quidditch. Peter and Sirius would rather stay firmly planted on the ground.

But different as they were, they had their similarities - Honeydukes chocolate, for one. Insulting and pranking the irascible Lily Evans was another, although Remus wasn't as obvious about it. Most of all, though, they needed each other.

Peter needed people who would stand up for him. James needed people - he hated being alone. Sirius needed an escape from his family, from his old life. Remus needed people who would accept him, and they did, when they figured out.

And the best part was, no one really understood their relationship - there were several incidents when people insisted that Remus and Sirius were a couple, or that James and Sirius were secret shag-buddies, or even that they only kept Peter around to look like saints - so it was almost like a secret.

Almost.

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" secrets? what secrets? "

(1972-1973)

"So." Sirius plopped down on the empty hospital bed beside him. James followed, collapsing onto the next empty bed, and Peter stood there timidly, leaning on the metal footing of the bed. "So."

He felt absolutely exhausted, and he didn't have time for his friends. Nevertheless, he began, "Hey, guys - " when it hit him.

What the hell were they doing here?

"Hi, Rem," Sirius greeted him, a grin stretching his features. "How're you doing?"

His throat was closing up - he couldn't really breathe - what the fuck were they doing here, they thought he was with his bloody sick mother - but he managed to smile back and say, "Just fine. You?"

James answered for Sirius: "Brilliant."

Peter shuffled and glanced at Remus wearily.

He felt his insides squirm and tumble and knot, and there was something like a sob building in his chest - they knew, oh, they knew, and why, why, why, why now, things were going so well, stupid - stupid - stupid - he had been too careless - "So... What're you doing here?" What's wrong with you, Lupin, don't cut to the heart of the matter - get them to stay a little longer - stall, stall, stall - let them stay, this is the last time you'll see them as your friends -

"Well... Generally, when your friend's hurt, you go and visit them." It was Peter who spoke now, his eyes crinkled just a bit at the edges.

"No, I mean..." Remus trailed off. What could he say? "I was wondering what you're doing here. I mean, why aren't you outside, screaming your heads off and burning my stuff and begging Dumbledore to kick me out? Better yet, why aren't you telling people to run for their lives because there's a werewolf among them?" No.

Sirius gave him a look that said, plainly, "You know why we're here. Stop fooling."

"I'm sorry," Remus began, staring determinedly at his hands. His eyes were burning, but he would not cry in front of them - no, he'd save that for when he was alone, when they had abandoned him. "I - I should've told you." Don't look at them, Lupin. "I m-mean, I'll - I'll just go, y'know, tell Dumbledore - I'll prob'ly be home by tomorrow - you really don't need to worry - "

"Remus, mate, you worry too much," Sirius informed him.

"What?"

"I mean, honestly, all this moaning and griping and melodrama - like a girl, you are."

"What are you - "

"You act like you thought we'd... I dunno, abandon you or something."

"You're not?"

"Rem, even though Evans insists we're emotionless prats, we're not going to ditch you for something as stupid as that."

Silence. Tense silence, shocked silence, still silence, until -

"You're the best mates a guy could ask for."

Sirius turned to James with a smirk. "See what I mean? The bloke's obviously a girl."

"Merlin. Merlin. What the fu - "

"Sirius." Remus gave his friend a leveled glare. "Don't finish that sentence. What's got you... well, what's got you like this?"

Sirius, being the dramatic one, was curled up in fetal position, rocking back and forth with his eyes squeezed shut, muttering profanities under his breath. Indeed, it was an odd sight, especially since Sirius was twelve - wait, no, thirteen, as he constantly reminded them.

"I saw Peter."

Remus set his book down and frowned. "You see Peter every day."

"No, no... I saw Peter. In a broom closet."

"What was he doing in there?" Remus blinked, for once the naïve one. "Did you and James lock him in again?"

"No, Remus." Sirius shuddered. "You're so daft sometimes. What do people usually do in broom closets?"

"What on earth are you - oh." Realization dawned on Remus's face. "Oh. But - but... Peter's twelve. What was he doing... doing that for?"

"I don't know," Sirius all-but hissed. "And he was with some older girl, too. Oh, my poor eyes..." He shook his head. "Then he has the nerve to say he wanted to keep it a secret. Merlin, Remus, like I wanted to know? I got out of there as fast as I could..."

Remus settled back in his chair, musing silently at how odd things turned out. Of the four of them, Peter was the first to venture into a broom closet.

Well, Peter was the first to venture into a broom closet for that intended purpose, anyhow.

"I think I'm in love, guys."

James made this particular statement on a rainy Saturday after breakfast.

"With who?" Remus asked.

"His broomstick," Sirius answered. "What else could he love?"

"Evans," James declared, falling backwards, onto his bed. "Lily Evans."

"You're not even supposed to notice girls yet," Peter quipped from his bed. "That's not love."

"Hypocrite," Sirius mumbled under his breath, but otherwise he agreed wholeheartedly. "But Pete's right. That's not love. That's obsession."

"It is not!" James protested. "Back me up, here, Rem."

Remus shrugged and pulled out a spare piece of parchment. No one had to ask what he was doing - homework. Flitwick, a usually kindhearted teacher, had assigned a vicious, million-foot-long essay for them to complete, and only Remus had the sense to start on it early. "Sorry, James," he answered, searching for his quill.

"What d'you mean, sorry?" James demanded. "I'm not obsessed! She's just - really - I dunno... Pretty."

"The world is ending," Sirius muttered as he brought out his sketchbook. "This is going to end badly, trust me."

"You are sort of obsessed with her," Remus began, timidly. "You insisted on pranking her all of first year - "

"I didn't," James denied at once. "You guys helped me, too."

"But you always got the idea, and always suggested her as a victim," Peter pointed out as he opened a box of fudge that his mother had sent him.

" - and you're always talking about her, and just this morning, you spilled your juice down your front because she smiled at you," Remus continued, as if no one had interrupted him.

"And she wasn't even smiling at you," Sirius added. "She was smiling at Mary MacDonald, who was behind you."

"I don't - I didn't - I'm not obsessed with her." James's voice wavered a little at the end.

Sirius sighed. "James, the first thing you said when you came in here was, 'I think I'm in love'. That's obsessed."

"Exactly," said Remus. He crossed out a few lines in his essay and scribbled down some notes - for future reference, to add later on in his paper - on his hand.

"But don't worry," Peter attempted to comfort the scowling James, "we already knew." He paused. "Actually, I'm pretty sure the entire Gryffindor House knows. Save for Evans, of course. She always just thinks that you're staring at her because you're planning something against her."

"Not helping," James groaned, burying his face in his pillow.

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" blood oath "

(1973-1974)

"Well, see, if we use the Invisibility Cloak to - wait. James, why do you have a knife?"

Sirius Black - who had just been explaining to a frazzled Remus Lupin the best way to prank the Slytherins next week - stared at his best friend with a somewhat horrified expression.

"James is going to kill us, isn't he?" Peter Pettigrew wailed dramatically, earning a snicker from Sirius. "Mate, I knew Evans's rejections were getting to you, but is this really necessary?"

An indignant-looking James Potter - who was, indeed, holding a knife - grumbled, "What? No. I'm not going to kill anyone..." Sirius snorted. "Well, boys, I have an idea."

Remus sighed. "Please spare me."

Sirius chucked a pillow at Remus's head, and the latter yelped before diving out of the way. "Shut up, Moony. You're so pessimistic."

"I'm not pessimistic, I'm realistic."

James cleared his throat. "We're friends, right?" Remus nodded immediately, a worried frown creasing his features. Peter started spluttering affirmations that yes, they were all the best friends Hogwarts could find. Sirius, who had been expecting plans for a prank, took the longest to respond, but answered, "Of course we are," with just as much fervor.

"Good," said James, appeased. "So, I was reading this book..."

Remus raised an eyebrow, and James flushed.

"O-kay," James muttered, still a bit pink, "so maybe I looked over this girl's shoulder while she was reading. Not a big difference. Anyways, there was something about blood oaths."

Peter winced at the mention of blood, not liking the turn the conversation was taking.

Sirius made an impatient noise in the back of his throat. "Get on with it - what about blood oaths?"

James shrugged his thin shoulders and muttered, "Well... I was thinking we could make a blood oath. Marauder's honor, and all that. You know, 'I solemnly swear...' and such?"

"James, mate, you're not making much sense."

"You know I'm no good at explaining things, Moony." The nickname they had developed for Remus - Moony - had come about exactly a week after James, Sirius, and Peter accepted their friend as a werewolf. So far, he was the only one with a nickname that stuck. James continued, "But, you know, we could make a blood oath."

"On what?" interjected Sirius.

"Well, we could promise to always be brothers," Peter suggested, and then flushed. "Well... I mean, brothers will always protect each other. They would die for each other, even. So, let's promise to always be brothers." James contemplated this for a moment, then nodded. It seemed good enough: The Marauders, brothers forever.

Remus, the voice of reason, said, "Why do a blood oath, though? We can always promise that, without all the blood. James, why do you need to be so theatrical?"

"I think it's a good idea." Sirius grinned, a bit of his dark fringe falling into his eyes. He pushed it away, but it fell back in place a moment later. "I mean, it makes it more... real? I don't know, but saying, 'I promise to be your brother forever' or some rubbish doesn't have the same effect as a blood oath or whatever James is suggesting."

"But... what about my... you know... condition?" Remus's normally placid voice was laced with boyish concern. "Won't the blood affect you guys?"

"Nonsense," said James, already holding the knife above his unmarked palm. "That's only if you're in wolf-form. I heard dad talking about it once, when I was little." James's father was a Healer at St. Mungo's, and often told his son about the rare diseases and conditions that were stumbled upon at the hospital.

"I suppose..."

"So it's settled, then?" James asked happily, looking at his friends for a sign of protest. When they said nothing, he went on, "Now, we just have to make one cut across our palm." Without any sign of fear, James pressed the knife to his skin. He winced when pulling it out, and Remus thought he saw James's eyes pool with tears, but the young Potter put up a brave façade.

"Your turn, Sirius," he muttered, his voice hoarse and pained. Peter watched with repulsion as crimson blood flowed from James's hand, dripping to his elbow.

Sirius cut his palm with the same amount of bravery as James, though he showed absolutely no sign of pain when the deed was done. Remus stared at the knife - which was stained with both Sirius's and James's blood - before closing his eyes and drawing the tip carefully across his scarred flesh.

It didn't hurt that much, the werewolf reasoned. But then again, Remus had a higher pain tolerance level due to his lycanthropy.

Peter was the last to go, and was too scared to cut himself, so Sirius did it for him. It seemed - from Peter's semi-relaxed expression - that the anxiety from waiting to be cut was worse than actually being cut.

"Now" - James lifted Sirius's cut hand and pressed their palms together; Remus watched in fascination as their combined blood fell to the floor, staining the carpet a darker red - "we just do that."

"Does it hurt?" Peter asked, wide-eyed.

Sirius shrugged, but he was staring at his palm as if it had never been there before. "It tingles a bit. I suppose the weird part is knowing that your blood is going out and someone else's blood is coming in."

"Here, Pete," James said, laughing slightly at Peter's horrorstruck expression. James smashed his palm against Peter's, and to Peter's surprise, it didn't hurt at all. Actually, his hand was going numb.

"Don't we need to say the promise?" Peter whispered, pulling his hand back. James shook his head.

"I'd imagine that we just need to be thinking it, or know why we're making the oath." The messy-haired boy shrugged noncommittally. "Come on, Remus, it'll be fine."

Sirius sensed Remus's hesitation and grinned. "Come on, Lupin, you're made of tougher stuff than that."

"But - "

"Stop worrying. Here..." Sirius pushed his hand onto Remus's bleeding one. "It's not so bad."

Once the entire oath had been finished - the last of it being Peter eagerly placing his hand against Sirius's - James showed the boys a cheeky grin and informed them, "And the best part is, we've gotta let it heal on its own, or else it won't work right."

With that said, James pulled four bottles of butterbeer from underneath his bed, causing Remus to frown.

"James, where...?"

James smirked. "Ah, saved it from Hogsmeade. No rules were broken, Moony." He popped the lid on his bottle. "And now, a toast!"

"A toast!" Sirius repeated with twice the vigor, opening his bottle easily. "To Marauders!" He clinked his glass against James's.

"To brothers!" James said in the same fashion, causing Remus and Peter to roll their eyes but grin.

"To brothers!" they echoed, tapping all four glasses together and laughing.

Minerva McGonagall knew that the self-proclaimed "Marauders" could be a bit dense at times. It was a fact she accepted. They were bright, perhaps, but hopelessly oblivious to logic - and not to mention easily distracted. There were times, however, when she wondered how, exactly, they managed to not fail their first year.

"Potter," she said, looking at aforementioned boy. He was seated in the second-to-last row next to Sirius Black, as per always, and he wasn't taking notes, as per always. Perhaps that was why it took her so long to notice the problem at hand. "You are a pureblood, correct?"

The other students began to mutter amongst themselves. Just a moment ago, they were discussing how to do partial-human transfigurations, and now she was asking about blood purity? What nonsense.

James Potter's eyebrows shot upwards to his hairline. "Um. Er, yes."

"Then - do correct me if I'm wrong - you have been surrounded by magic all your life?"

"Yes... I don't really - "

"Potter, do be quiet." McGonagall exhaled sharply. What she really needed was a nice, hot cup of tea and a relaxing day of no classes. Merlin, even over the weekends she was stuck grading papers... "And you all learned basic healing spells last year?"

"Well, no," a Hufflepuff boy from across the room squeaked. "That's fifth year curriculum."

Minerva frowned. They must have changed the lesson plans again. "Well, no matter - am I to believe that you have access to the Hospital Wing?"

"Yes..." James's frown deepened. "What are you - "

"For Merlin's sake, Potter," McGonagall all-but-yelled, "why on earth is your hand bleeding like there is no tomorrow?"

Red crept up from the boy's neck and spread throughout his cheeks. "Ah, um. I thought I bandaged that..."

"No," Sirius corrected, "you rushed to breakfast before we could bandage it. It's been bleeding like mad all day."

"And no one told me?"

"Well..."

"Boys," said McGonagall, who was trying hard to keep her temper in check. Those boys knew exactly how to irritate her. "Mr. Black, do escort Mr. Potter to the Hospital Wing..."

"I can't," Sirius grumbled stubbornly, holding his own hand up. Minerva saw that it was carefully bandaged, but a drip of bright red blood had escaped and was drying on the side of his arm. "It's... er... Well. We were trying this - ah - project... Just something extra for Charms - no harm done - but things went wrong, and, erm. Well... This is the result. We can't go to the Hospital Wing. It won't heal." Sirius looked around wildly, until his eyes settled on a familiar, scared-looking figure. "Madam Pomfrey tried to fix Pete, y'see... It didn't work."

Minerva highly doubted this, but she only sighed. "Of course, Mr. Black." Then, to ensure her power in the classroom more than anything else, she added, "Don't let it become a problem, understand?"

"Got it!" he chirped.

"Oh Merlin," mumbled the exasperated professor as she began to lecture, once again, on how turning one's arm into a snake is not an ingenious idea and should not be attempted.

The problem with secrets was that there could be no such thing with Lily Evans. She was curious. Too curious, according to Peter - adorably curious, according to James - bloody, annoyingly curious according to Sirius - and certainly, naturally curious according to Remus.

"What did you do to your hand, Remus?" she asked, looking at him in concern. He had been sitting in the common room, minding his own business with the rest of his friends, when the redhead stormed up. "It looks awful... I know a few spells, do you want me to try and fix it?"

"Leave him alone, Evans," Sirius said, not looking up from his sketchpad, where he was drawing furiously, not allowing anyone else to see his masterpieces. "It's none of your business."

Pink tinged Lily's cheeks. "Oh, and I suppose it's just something for a brilliant prank you and Potter are going to play, isn't it, Black? And you've gone and dragged Remus into it, as well..."

"Don't be such a harpy," Peter sniffed, leaning over to copy off James's Transfiguration paper. "Remus is fine."

Just as she opened her mouth to retort, James grinned at her and held out his now-bandaged hand. "You can heal me if you want, Evans."

Lily scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. "Forget it. Just - ugh, forget I said anything! You boys are such prats..." Her hair rippled out behind her as she stormed away, making the vague scent of cinnamon float over the boys.

Once she was gone, Sirius whistled lowly and James snickered. Remus simply rolled his eyes.

"Hey, mate, how long d'you think these scars will stay?" Sirius asked James a few weeks later. The cuts were beginning to heal, and thick, calloused stripes were forming across each boy's palm.

James wiggled his fingers and watched the scar shimmer in the sunlight. "Dunno. A few months?"

"Nah." Sirius unwrapped a chocolate frog and bit into it. "Longer, maybe."

"Hm... Seventh year, then?"

"Ah, sure. I still think longer..."

"Forever?"

"Yeah. Forever."

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" world record "

(1974-1975)

The climb to the Astronomy Tower was much more work than any of them were feeling up to that day.

"I feel like my arms are made of lead," Peter whined.

"I feel like I was attacked by a knife and then pounced on by two heavy, overweight boys," Remus hissed, glaring at James and Sirius, who could be easily mistaken for the living dead. It had been a full moon the previous night, and James and Sirius tackled Remus as soon as they saw that he wasn't broken beyond repair.

Huffing, Sirius rubbed at his eyes and grumbled, "I feel like I was hexed by an Evans." All four boys shuddered, knowing how awful (and creative) Lily was when it came to jinxing them.

"Honestly," said Remus, "I didn't ask you three to stay up all night worrying."

"Don't flatter yourself, Rem," Sirius snorted.

"Yeah," muttered James. "We spent the majority of the night planning pranks."

"And how many of these pranks are realistic?"

Peter grinned when he answered: "Not one. And they also did repeats. I think - and this was when Sirius had finished your supply of chocolate - they came up with something along the lines of making the Slytherins imitate various sex positions."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "That might actually work."

"Yes," James said, a hint of pride in his voice, "but we did that one last year. It was part of the whole end-of-the-year fiasco."

"Where was I when this happened?"

"You, my dear Moony," Sirius answered, "were imprisoned by the lovely Madam Pomfrey. I think she threatened to use a Bat Bogey Hex on us if we didn't leave you alone."

"Ah."

As they climbed the long, tedious route to Astronomy, Sirius was struck with an idea - which, in hindsight, wasn't all too brilliant, and should have been expected.

"Let's ditch."

"BLACK, POTTER, THIS IS THE TENTH TIME YOU'VE SKIPPED CLASS THIS MONTH, AND I WILL NOT STAND FOR - "

The four boys shifted awkwardly in their seats, throwing each other furtive glances as McGonagall ranted on and on. They had been expecting a lecture, maybe even a couple more detentions, but not all-out screaming.

" - AND YOU, LUPIN! I EXPECTED THIS FROM THESE THREE, BUT NEVER YOU - "

Remus sank down in his seat, his face cherry red. He could imagine the Prefect's badge - the one had had wanted for so long - floating away from him, waving goodbye. Oh, Merlin, why did he listen to James and Sirius...

McGonagall exhaled sharply, and the four boys could very well imagine steam floating out of her ears. Her cheeks were dully flushed in anger, and her eyes were narrowed into dangerous slits. "Now." She took a deep breath, as if preparing herself. "Explain."

Remus was prepared to grovel and apologize his arse off, but James beat him to it.

"We wanted to set a record, ma'am."

McGonagall stared at him, and after a long silence, she choked out, "What?"

"The record for missing classes, Professor," Sirius explained, giving her his trademark puppy-dog eyes. "We heard it was over one hundred in a year, so... We just wanted some fun, that's all."

She sighed. It was an aggravated, tortured sound. "All right then. Detention, all of you. Three weeks."

Once she had swept out of the room, muttering something about going prematurely gray, Sirius turned to James and beamed. "Great thinking, mate."

Remus's eyes widened. "There isn't a record?"

Sirius stared at him as if he were daft. "No, you idiot. There's a record for the number of detentions. If we told her that, she wouldn't dare assign us one, would she?"

Remus buried his face in his palms. McGonagall was right - staying around those two would make anyone go prematurely gray.

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" to the top of the mountain "

(1975-1976)

Sirius was first.

James stared in awe at the great, grim-like dog in front of him, which had Sirius's gray eyes, and was obviously trying to grin at him. Peter reached out a tentative hand and patted the dog on its massive head.

Remus was wide-eyed. "Sirius..."

The dog ran forwards, but it looked sort of awkward, and he was tilted to one side. When James blinked, Sirius was back on the floor, his face pale but elated. "Blimey, you wouldn't believe how hard it is to walk on four legs."

James laughed for the first time that night. "I can't believe you actually did it. I can't believe this. You're an Animagus - we're going to become Animagi. Merlin."

Dryly, Remus said, "You're also going to become convicts if anyone finds out."

"Lighten up, Moony," Sirius said, chucking a pillow at his friend. "Now let me try it again."

Sirius screwed up his face in a look of concentration, and after several seconds - in which James was struggling to contain his snorts of laughter at Sirius's expression - he melted into a big black dog once more. This time, he didn't bother to shift back, and instead leapt onto Remus's bed and curled up, as if it were asleep.

"My turn," James muttered, trying to concentrate like Sirius had. It had no effect - James stayed the same, although he felt so much more tired.

"You look like you're going to faint," Remus commented, shoving Sirius off his bed. "And you, mutt, need to stay off my bed." The dog whined, and the werewolf envisioned an indignant Sirius glaring at him.

"This is brilliant," Peter whispered, and the others only made slight noises of agreement, their minds reeling.

At the suggestion of Remus, Sirius began coaching James and Peter in their transformations.

"Just concentrate, build up all your magical energy," he advised, after James had gotten into a sour mood and Peter started to sulk. "And... Imagine escaping, leaving your old body, your old life behind."

And just like that, Peter transformed into a small, straw colored rat.

"I don't get it!" James had yelled, frustrated with this turn of events. It was embarrassing enough, being showed up by Sirius, but Peter, too? That was just unfair.

Remus, ever the philosophical one, said, "It's probably because you're the one that doesn't want to run away from your old self."

"What's that supposed to mean?" James had muttered crossly, scowling at the rat and dog, who were chasing each other around.

"It means," Remus elaborated, "that you're the happiest with yourself. You've got everything: a good family, a good life, friends - everything. Why would you want to leave that life?"

"I don't want to leave my life," James admitted. "But how come they got it so quickly?"

"Think about Sirius's home life. Who wouldn't want to run away from that?" When James didn't answer, he continued, "And Peter... Wouldn't he like to be a bit better? More talented... more magical? Hell, his parents thought he was a squib." Remus nodded at James. "You don't have anything like that, except... Well, except Lily. You'd want to be someone who's liked by Lily."

A slight smile tugged at James's lips. "Funny how she comes up in everything, isn't it?"

"Funny indeed."

James was in a state of euphoria. He transformed at any given opportunity, galloping this way and that, and nearly squashing Peter in his rat form. Remus didn't admonish him, but just shook his head and continued to read, like usual.

Sirius blinked twice. He thought back to the James he knew - dark hair, hazel eyes, way-too-tan-to-be-real skin - yes, nothing about James was pale, whatsoever.

How, then, did he turn out to be a bright white stag?

When he asked Remus this, the bookworm had answered with something along the lines of, "It represents his pure heart," with so much sarcasm that it really meant, "How should I know? Go ask that Parker kid in Hufflepuff, and he'll give you the soul-searching bullshit you're looking for."

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" darkness & despair "

(1976-1977)

The fight was brutal and bloody and - true to their attention-needing natures - public.

Except it wasn't really a fight - it was more like James beating Sirius into a pulp while Sirius was reduced to a sopping mess.

James drove his fist into Sirius's cheek, and the Gryffindors watched on in morbid fascination.

"You complete bastard - how could you - how do you think Remus will feel, when he hears about this? Exactly! I don't - how the hell could you do this, Sirius? - we trusted you, we all bloody trusted you!" Every fragment of jumbled words was accompanied by a punch, or a kick, or a sharp elbow to the gut.

"James, I don't think you should - " Peter's words were cut off when James glared at him, and the amount of hate and pain and betrayal in his eyes made the smaller boy stumble.

Sirius couldn't breathe, couldn't feel, all he could do was think -

I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry - how the hell could I - Remus will never speak to me again - James is probably going to kill me - Merlin, Merlin, I'm so, so sorry - I didn't know - I was angry, I couldn't think straight -

- but he didn't once beg for forgiveness. After all, James would forgive him. James never held grudges.

Right?

Lily intervened, eventually. She shoved James away from Sirius (she always had been strong, that one) and fixed him with her classic glare.

"What," she hissed, "is the meaning of this? There are children around, Potter! You can take your stupid fight to the dorms, but don't - "

"Evans." James's tone was cold, ice cold, trembling with barely suppressed rage. "Get - the fuck - away from me."

And that's when Sirius knew that everything had been shot to hell, because James never talked to Lily like that.

People glanced at him out of the corners of their eyes, some whispered, and most just blatantly said to his face: "Why'd you and James fight?"

And usually he'd say something along the lines of, "Fuck off," but he was learning to remain silent.

It was a hard, lonely month.

It had also been the first time he had to do his homework without Remus there to nag him, or James and Peter there to complain alongside him.

Somehow that made everything seem so much worse.

Lily Evans was pretty, in an in-your-face sort of way. Her hair was fire, her eyes emerald - it was hard not to notice her when she sashayed into a room, hopelessly oblivious to the lustful gazes of her peers, those shell-pink lips parted in a laugh.

That was the first time Sirius had noticed, though, and that's because he used to have James next to him, and there was an unspoken rule: Touch Lily and you're mincemeat.

What the hell, he thought. There weren't any boundaries anymore.

So Sirius went and did what he did best - twisting guilt and shame into vengeance and horrible malice.

He went and sat down next to the beautiful Lily, who was surprised but accepted him. Her pity was obvious, but he didn't mind so much.

It was satisfactory to look back at James's shocked face.

"You should really start talking to James again," Lily advised him, taking a bite out of her bread roll. It had been two months - two painfully long months - since the fight in the common room.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Since when has he been 'James'?"

"Since I realized that they're suffering from not talking to you. Just like you're suffering from not talking to them."

He snorted. "Honestly, woman, don't be so melodramatic. They're fine, I'm fine. Don't meddle." Please meddle. If you're going to do anything, meddle. Seduce James, beg Remus, bribe Peter - do something. Because Lily was always the best when it came to setting things up and making truces.

She could see the desperation on his featured, and she allowed herself to smirk. Sirius wasn't such an emotionless rock, after all. "I think you've got issues," she informed him.

"Oh, really?" he challenged. "Like what?"

"Well." She took a bite out of her chicken. "For starters, you haven't picked up that sketchbook of yours once since you fought with James."

Sirius blinked.

It was a wonder how she noticed these things.

In the end, Lily meddled.

She went to Remus - who was the most sensible, the most forgiving - and told him something along the lines of: "Sirius is beating himself up over whatever happened. Please forgive him... You know how stubborn he is, he's too prideful to come and say it himself, but he really needs you guys." Sirius was pretty sure that the actual speech was much more dramatic and heart-wrenching, because in the end Remus agreed and said that he'd talk to Sirius about it.

"You're a bloody idiot, Padfoot." Remus's expression was neutral, completely devoid of the teasing glint that Sirius was so used to.

"I know."

"Snape could have died."

"I know."

"Did you want that?"

"No... Just thought I'd give him a bit of a scare, and - "

"Well, whatever. Just don't let it happen again."

To Sirius's astonishment, that was the end of it. James and Peter looked rather relieved to accept him back into the group - apparently they were just waiting for Remus's approval - and life fell back into its normal routine.

Everything was normal except for Lily, who seemed to be hanging around the Marauders more often. That is, the Marauders - excluding James.

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" drawings "

(1977-1978)

The Hospital Wing was almost silent. The shallow breathing of injured students echoed across the vast room. Sirius Black, in his regular bed, stared at the ceiling. He had a strange feeling in his gut - and it had nothing to do with the strange potion James had fed him, which was the reason he was stuck in the Hospital Wing - almost like...

Almost like someone was doing something they really shouldn't.

James was completely confident, but Remus was fidgeting. "Are you sure we should do this? You know how sensitive he gets - "

"Hush, Moony, he's in the Hospital Wing. Wormtail's running off somewhere - he mentioned something about the kitchens - so no one will be there to squeal on us. This is totally foolproof."

"You know that Sirius doesn't like us looking through his sketchbooks..."

"And we're never going to get an opportunity like this again! Come on, it'll be fine."

Sighing, Remus reached under Sirius's bed, where Sirius kept his many sketchbooks. James had insisted on invading his best friend's privacy, and Remus's curiosity won out - he really did want to know what was in the sketchbooks.

"Okay," said Remus, pulling out a stack. "These are labeled by year. One for each Hogwarts year - oh, this has got to be the only place I've ever seen Sirius organized."

"Whatever," James muttered, taking the oldest one in his hands. "Here, let's look."

The book labeled First Year in Sirius's inexplicably elegant handwriting was filled with people - mostly James, Remus, and Peter. There was one or two of Lily, glaring, and a couple of the Black family crest. Deciding that there was nothing interesting, James handed Remus the first book to look through, and moved on to the second.

This one was a little better. There was one picture of Peter caught in a broom closet with that older girl. James grinned; this was probably the only way Sirius could get the image out of his mind. There were many landscapes - Hogwarts, Hagrid's hut against the Forbidden Forest, and the sun setting over a finely-detailed castle.

James's favorite, though, was the one of Lily and him, sitting on opposite ends of a couch, glaring at each other. At the bottom of the page was a note: Give to James whenever Lily finally says yes to him. It was obviously written later on, most likely in fourth year, when James asked Lily out for the first time. There was also one of a werewolf, but it was sketchy and lacked the refined details of the other pictures.

The third book had several pictures of Hogsmeade, from the interior of The Three Broomsticks to Zonko's, and - much to James's chagrin - a sketch of a bloody knife, the same one they used to make their blood oath.

The rest of the books were all generic - Sirius had taken to drawing the Gryffindor common room, especially the fireplace and his favorite chair. In the fifth book, he had included one picture of a dog, a stag, a rat, and a wolf all sitting together, but otherwise he drew weather. Sixth year held a darker spin on things. The drawings were abstract, from a single drop of water to shards of bloody, broken glass, and there weren't that many pictures, probably because of his two-month relapse. James shuddered and passed the book to Remus, picking up the final one.

On the first page was himself, Remus, and Peter, all grinning up at him. He would've guessed that it was taken by a muggle camera if he didn't look carefully for Sirius's quill marks. As he flipped through the book, he realized it had more of a "Through The Years" theme, and James took a liking to one of him and Lily, progressing their relationship - from first year, glaring at each other, to seventh year, holding hands, almost shyly.

The last picture was unfinished, and James couldn't tell what it was. On one edge of the paper was Hogwarts, on the other edge were the smiling faces of every Gryffindor in his year, and in the middle was a shape of some sort. James couldn't decipher it.

On the very bottom, Sirius had scribbled one word.

Remember.

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fin.