A/N: When your best friend falls in love, it sucks.

He found James sitting on the dry grass with his back against the trunk of the nearest tree. His shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tie stuffed in his trouser pocket, and square-frame glasses resting atop the bridge of his nose. He had two textbooks stacked next to him, and a scroll of parchment resting on his lap, yet he made no indications of working on the task at hand. Instead, his gaze focused on the webbing tide of the lake, and the crease between his eyebrows deepened as his mind wandered. Sirius' heart ached as he was hit with the sudden realization of how much he truly missed his friend. It was a weak feeling, a feeling he had been fighting off for almost three months now, but after spotting James' messy black hair, he couldn't stop his feet from moving toward the same tree and toward his closest brother.

Picking up the books and discarding them roughly near James' school bag, Sirius sat himself beside his oldest friend. Sirius sifted through his robe's pockets until he recovered an intact fag.

"Help a mate out, yeah?" Sirius held the cigarette between his lips as James lifted his wand and quietly spoke the incantation that lit smoke from the bud's head. Sirius nodded his thanks.

"Where've you been?" Sirius asked.

James pulled his legs up to his chest, bending his knees and resting his forearms across them. "With Lily," he answered, a small smile reaching his lips.

Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes and took a long drag from the cigarette. He more or less purposely blew the smoke in James' direction; the latter barely noticed.

"How's she?"

James' grin grew as he met his best friend's gaze. "Brilliant. Did I tell you know about how I was gonna ask her to move in with us?"

Only about 15 sodding times. "Oh. I forgot."

James arched an eyebrow but nodded in understanding. "Well, she said yes," he concluded, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

Stubbing out the cigarette, Sirius chucked the bud far ahead of him in the grass. "Brilliant," he mocked.

He was beginning to wonder why he had even come over to sit by James in the first place. Every conversation began and ended with mentions of Lily. Today Lily said… and When I was with Lily… Didn't James realize that he didn't bloody care? How many times could he produce a fake smile and nod overenthusiastically before he bloody snapped at the mention of bloody Lily Evans' bloody name?

Clearing his throat, Sirius began to stand up. "Well, mate, I'm off to—"

"Look, Padfoot," James interrupted, "I know you hate Lily, OK?" His voice shook slightly, and the twitch under his right eyebrow that normally only appeared the night before the full moon started to protrude from under his skin. "It's not much of a bloody secret, but for Merlin's sake, can you at least pretend to be happy for me?"

Sirius couldn't make himself look at James' expression. He already knew what it looked like: disappointed, hurt, angry, betrayed. "I don't hate Lily," Sirius spoke to the ground. "Don't be so fucking dramatic."

James scoffed and stretched his legs out in front of him. He readjusted his sleeves for a few moments before his wavering voice broke the silence once again. "You…you hate something! Every bloody time I mention her name, you get all pissy and look like I just told you morning breakfast was cancelled."

Sirius shot him a glare. "Piss off," he responded, choosing to insult his best mate rather than elaborate on the very accurate point he had just made.

Sirius did hate something: he hated that he had fallen in rank from James' priorities. With how many times James ditched the Marauders a week to be with Lily, it wasn't surprising that Sirius had taken to assuming that conclusion. But he wasn't about to admit that to James; he'd sound like a fucking girl, whining about his best mate who got a girlfriend, and now his old mates were left clawing at the ground, impatiently awaiting their pack leader's return. Sirius wasn't a bloody pansy.

Noting his friend's silence, James groaned in frustration and pulled roughly at his black hair. He summoned his bag and textbooks in front of him, and made a scene of packing up his belongings. "If you're going to bloody be that way, then fine," he spoke gruffly, "but I'm getting sick of it, Padfoot." Shooting a glance at his fellow Marauder, James' expression softened and he added in a pleading, almost expectant tone, "I just want to…understand what I, or she, did?" A sigh. "I…I miss you, Pads."

It was the lost light in James' hazel eyes that cracked Sirius' heart and finally caused him to cave.

"Prongs, I've known you for seven bloody years, and you've never taken on…" he chose his words carefully, "commitment like this. Such big changes. It took you, hell, more than two months to come 'round about—"

James shook his head violently. "Sirius, you don't think I know that? I don't exactly have a reputation for lasting in long-term relationships around here. But Lily—she's just—Padfoot, I just have this feeling that I need…" He moved his hands in frantic synchronization, searching for the perfect words.

"You don't think you're moving too fast?" Sirius pressed. "I mean, with asking her to move in?"

James stopped his searching, and instead gave Sirius a look of incredulity. "I love her, Sirius. At this point, nothing is moving too fast."

Sirius nodded, feeling agitation creep up in his throat. Don't you love us, too? "I know, Prongs."

"I want to protect her, Pads. I need to protect her. Everything about her—her feelings, her family, her sodding life—," his breath caught, "—like they're my own."

And before Sirius could stop it, before he could censor what he said next, because bloody hell, this was his best mate, he shouted, "Bloody hell, Prongs, what about us?"

James flinched. "Huh?"

"Us, James. Me, Wormtail—Moony? What about Moony?" Slowly Sirius could feel himself becoming hysterical. Why are you leaving US? Sirius continued before James opened his mouth. "You…you're the best at it. Protecting, I mean. Hell, you're the one who saved fucking Snape."

"Lily isn't replacing you lot, you know," he said, sounding offended.

And just as quickly as he had become hysterical, Sirius became hostile. "What if she doesn't want to be protected, mate? Ever think of that?" He scowled in James' direction. "She's a bloody fine witch if you ask me, more than capable of flicking her own wrist. She doesn't need you watching her arse more than you already do!"

"Fuck, Padfoot!" James shot up and grabbed Sirius' shirt collar, gritting his teeth. "Watch what you say, you bloody wanker," he threatened.

"It's true, James!" Sirius retaliated, feeling James' hot breath on his cheek. He tore away from James' stare before saying, "I guess it was just lucky for you when I fell in love."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" James spat.

It was now Sirius' turn to smile, as he thought of his partner. "Remus was already in our group; he's a Marauder, James. No one got affected. No one got placed second."

James relaxed his grip on Sirius' shirt, and let his head fall slightly in defeat. "Why can't Lily be a Marauder?" he asked, almost too quietly for Sirius to hear. "The Marauders—it's—we're family. Why are you so bloody against Lily being part of our family?" James said coldly.

Lost among conflicting emotions—thinking of Remus, of James and Lily, of the past and the future—he couldn't take it anymore. Sirius felt ill, his head woozy and his vision dizzy, as he sacrificed one last glance at James' torn expression, and, blinking back the tears with all his might, he retracted his right fist, and while imagining Remus in his mind, brought his punch barreling straight into James' gut. The victim collapsed and wheezed, releasing Sirius' collar finally, and fell to his knees.

"Pad…Padfoot…what the hell, mate?" James asked softly, his voice strained. But Sirius didn't hear him, because he was already halfway across the grounds, headed back to the castle, with salty tears streaming down his face and dripping off his chin.