Saving Sirius

by LittlePlumTree

Instead of going home, Sirius walked the darkened streets of central London, dragging from a cigarette and hugging his arms to his chest to fend off the cold, until he found another bar. This was it. This was Sirius' life. Until one day, it wasn't.

Sirius was sick to fucking death of bars. He was sick of working in them, sick of drinking in them, sick of the smell of them. He'd gotten his job as a barman in the dingy Muggle pub, he surmised, because he was handsome, and girls were more willing to hand over a few more pounds than the drink is worth if the person handing it to them is handsome. His fake ID said he was twenty two, a pretty far stretch from his actual seventeen, but dressed the way he was it wasn't a hard lie to sell. A quick Confundus charm hadn't gone amiss, either.

It had been a long shift. The music was boring, the customers were verging on the too-drunk side of drunk, and he was tired. He knew his black t-shirt had ridden up, exposing his stomach as he reached for a bottle on a shelf, and he was about to tug it down when he saw a girl at the other end of the bar eying the bare skin hungrily. He left the shirt. He liked the attention.

One of the greatest downfalls of the job, Sirius thought as he worked, was the boredom. In fact, Sirius found a good many things in life boring. His mind worked faster than most people he knew. He could read a situation in a second, knew which buttons to press to really wind someone up, and knew just the right words to, more often than not, get his way. The Slytherin in him was, when you were looking, not all that hard to find. Muggles were particularly boring, and Sirius hated being bored.

When his shift was over, he didn't go home. It wasn't 'home' anyway, but a tiny apartment above an open all hours Laundromat in Muggle London, and he hated it. The only good part about it was that it was his, and not his parents'. If it was, it would have been pulled out from under him like the proverbial rug, along with his savings account, his school fees, and his family name. He knew the Black family were all arseholes, but he'd assumed they were arseholes who would stick together.

As soon as he'd moved out, albeit not under the best of terms, he'd been on his own. James had offered, and he'd accepted, the spare room at his house, and his family were brilliant, warm, inviting, but Sirius felt wrong. It'd felt too… good. It wasn't his. After 4 months and the final term of their 6th year at Hogwarts, Sirius had moved out.

So no, instead of going home, Sirius walked the darkened streets of central London until he found another bar. He'd been to this one before, open later than the one he worked in, but otherwise just like the rest. He drank alone on a barstool until he couldn't quite see straight.

As he was walking out, a blond guy in a leather jacket shoulder-checked him, and Sirius didn't think twice before turning and shoving him right back. The guy turned and grinned, and Sirius thought, objectively, he wasn't bad looking.

"Looking for a fight, mate?" the guy said.

Sirius punched him square in the jaw.

He was kicked out, bloodied and bruised on his lip and eye, ribs aching and knuckles sore. He felt good. He'd heal them when he got home. Maybe.

The next day he slept until 2 in the afternoon, and then rolled out of bed and checked the fridge. It hadn't magically refilled since the day before. He glanced at his wand sitting uselessly on the bench top, and sighed, then poured himself a glass of water, which tasted slightly coppery but no more than usual, and tried to ignore his rumbling stomach. With nothing better to do he pulled on one of the cleaner t-shirts on his floor, a pair of jeans and his old Muggle combat boots, and went downstairs to the Laundromat. He hoisted himself up to sit on one of the dryers and watched the little TV in the corner, showing Muggles riding horses around a giant track. After a while, the announcer's voice and the bright colours of the riders' clothing were giving Sirius a mild headache. At 3, an old woman came in and eyed Sirius suspiciously before coming over and saying, "Young man, would you get off my dryer?"

Sirius slid off it and rolled his eyes. The races were getting boring anyway. He pulled a face at the old lady's back and wandered outside and along the tired, grey concrete of the London street. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared up, the sky cloudy and bored, seeming to stare down at him with a morbid kind of amusement. Sirius turned and went home.

At 5, he went to work. After a 6 hour shift he wandered aimlessly towards home, and then, realizing it was the last place he wanted to be, and feeling the familiar clench of his hungry stomach, he slipped into an alleyway. A few seconds later, a big black dog emerged and trotted off down the street.

In the early hours of tomorrow, the dog would return to the alley, hunger satisfied from the garbage cans and back doors of restaurants that filled the lonely city, and Sirius would walk slowly back to his apartment, stand under the luke-warm stream of water he didn't have the heart to call a shower, and then fall into bed.

This was it, this was Sirius' life. Until one day, it wasn't.

He was asleep when the gentle knock on the door came. It only half woke him, and he lay awake wondering why he'd woken before 1 in the afternoon.

The knock came again, and Sirius had no idea who the ever-loving fuck would be knocking on his door at, what, 10 in the morning?

He threw himself out of bed and scrubbed a hand over his face. Tugging on last night's jeans a third knock came at the door.

"Fuck, alright, I'm coming," Sirius growled, and he crossed the tiny room and threw open the door.

Leaning against the doorframe grinning at him was James.

Sirius tried to stay cross, he really did.

"Hello," James said, and Sirius just grabbed him in a strangling hug and yanked James through the door. "Steady on, anyone'd think you'd missed me?" James laughed hugging Sirius back, and Sirius didn't say anything. He had, of course.

James pulled away and squinted through his glasses at Sirius. "Mate, you look awful. Are you hungover?"

Sirius, who basically lived in a permanent state of hungover, shook his head. And winced a little.

"Got any food?" James asked, stepping into the tiny kitchen and yanking open a couple of cupboards.

Sirius let him hope for a few seconds and open a few more cupboards before he said, "No. Do you?"

James stopped opening cupboards and made a show of patting his pockets, then looked distressed. "I could've sworn I had a roast chicken in here somewhere?"

Sirius snorted.

"Well, do you have any tea?" James pulled open another cupboard and made a happy noise as he spotted a tin of tea leaves. He took them down and opened the jar. His nose wrinkled and he put the lid back on. "I don't think that's tea."

Sirius didn't say anything. Sighing, James looked around. Sirius didn't look at him, and James frowned. "What's wrong with your lip? Were you in a fight?"

"No," Sirius lied, and James raised his eyebrows.

"We're going shopping, come on."

James started towards the door, but Sirius said quietly, "No money."

James turned and looked at Sirius, and then he looked around the tiny apartment, and at the tin of not-tea, then back at Sirius, standing shirtless in his black jeans with his stupid long hair falling over his face, and the most ashamed expression on his face that James had ever seen, and James felt the sudden urge to cry.

He didn't, though.

He sat down on the faded sofa and it squeaked under him. He looked once more at the peeling wallpaper, the scuffed wooden floor, the dirty window and the door with 3 bolts and a chain.

"Sirius, can I stay with you?"

When James looked round, Sirius was eying him cautiously. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why? Because you're my mate and I want to spend time with you before we have to go back to school."

"You spend time with at school, Prongs, we live in the same room."

James grinned. "Great, so this won't be anything new then."

Sirius still didn't look convinced. "Your parents didn't throw you out too, did they?"

James threw his head back and laughed, "No, they didn't. Hey, or, you could move back into my place?"

Sirius was shaking his head before he'd even finished the sentence.

"No, you know I won't do that." James knew. Sirius was insufferably proud.

"Okay then, so I move in, I sleep on the couch, or I'll buy a mattress or something, and we split the rent, and the food, and I'll find a job. It'll be fun, mate, come on don't look so scared."

Sirius was still looking unsure, and James suddenly had a thought that hadn't crossed his mind.

"Oh, uh, unless you'd rather live alone. I don't wanna barge in on a good thing, I mean I thought you might be lonely, but I know sometimes it's good to have your own space."

Shaking his head again, Sirius let slip a half smile that reminded James of the Sirius that used to be, the one that would laugh easily and talk willingly and wouldn't hold out on James.

"James, how long have you known me?"

"A very fucking long time, Padfoot."

"So if you tell me this isn't just a plan to… I don't know, save me? This isn't just your way of giving me money and making sure I don't go off the deep end, then yeah. Welcome home."

James nodded, and opened his mouth, then shut it again. He wasn't going to lie. But he wasn't going to tell Sirius he was right, either. So he just leant his head back on the couch, and grinned at his friend.

"Great, then I'll get my stuff. Fancy a train ride?"

The train ride from Central London to James' family home wasn't a long one. James bought the tickets and ignored Sirius' protests that if they went tomorrow, he could pay for his own, and they boarded the train.

It was nowhere as fancy as the Hogwarts Express, and crammed with Muggles, and the boys had to stand. Sirius' hand kept creeping back to his pocket where his wand was tucked into the back of his shirt, and enjoying the feeling of having it on him. He'd given up taking it with him to work, or out of his flat at all. He didn't have a need for it, and he hadn't realized how much he'd missed it.

James was shifting his weight from one foot to the other and looking around the carriage, smiling at old ladies and moving over to let people pass. Sirius stared straight ahead, eyes glued to a poster on the side of the train that said 'Keep an eye on your bag'.

A woman with a perm and a shopping bag was also looking at the poster, and Sirius glanced at her, and then deliberately looked down at her bags and gave her a menacing grin. The lady got up and moved further along the carriage. Sirius could feel James looking at him, and he ignored it.

The train ground to a halt at their stop and the boys made their way to the door, James "excuse me"-ing his way along and Sirius just trailing in his wake. He caught the eye of perm-lady again, and she gave him a death glare that would rival his mother's. Sirius smiled his most disarming smile and jumped blithely down off the train.

"We walking then?" Sirius asked, and James nodded unhappily.

"If it were dark we could fly, but it won't be dark for a couple of hours, and I don't fancy hanging round the station."

They started walking along the gravel path away from the station, Sirius deliberately scuffing his feet and sending pebbles into the grass. When they reached the tarmac road James turned and drew his wand, giving it a slight flick that sent the stones on the grass back onto the path. Sirius growled.

"Sirius, your Padfoot is showing," James reprimanded, and Sirius just fumed silently.

After a second, he said, "Why do you always feel you have to clean up my messes?"

"Why do you always feel you have to make messes?" James shot back.

Sirius didn't know.

They walked for a few minutes in silence. Sirius broke it eventually.

"How's Lily?"

James smiled. "She's great. We're great. Well, she doesn't hate me, so yeah we're great."

Sirius bit back a smile. "Probably doesn't hurt that you're head boy next year."

James laughed, shaking his head. "You could have been, you know."

"What, with Lily?" Sirius looked at him, confused.

"Head boy. You could've been. You're clever enough, people like you, if you'd tried a little harder not to piss of the teachers-"

"Prongs, how many times do I have to tell you, I didn't want to be head boy. I don't want to stop pissing off the teachers, I don't especially want people to like me, and I don't overly yearn to be the pinnacle of aspiration for the young impressionable dears at Hogwarts. Believe me, I'm not cut out to be a leader."

James sighed. "You could lead, Sirius. I'd follow you."

A wry smile played over Sirius lips and he raised an eyebrow. "Good thing I'm not asking you to follow then, isn't it."

Unsure quite what he meant, James didn't say anything else. They were rounding the bend in the quiet road, with the weatherboard houses and red-roofed letter boxes, and coming up to the gateway into the wizarding world that would take them almost to the front door of the Potter house. They turned down a small side street that ended in a brick wall, and James drew his wand. He tapped the bricks, and they slid apart, and the boys stepped through, and immediately felt a sort of relief.

James looked sideways at Sirius, and could see on his face that he felt it too. The Wizarding world held a magic of its own that wasn't tangible, wasn't anything anyone could put their finger on, but they could all feel it. Sirius could feel it, having spent so long away from it, living in his dingy flat with his wand finding an almost permanent residence on his kitchen counter. The colours were brighter, the air cleaner, and Sirius felt a sort of bubble of joy in his chest that he was almost ashamed of. James just raised one corner of his mouth in a half-smile, and didn't say anything.

They crossed the street and walked for a couple of minutes down it, coming to a halt outside a tall, white-weather boarded house with a blue door. Sirius felt an ache. James started up the steps and he followed, trailing James into the house and breathing in deep the smell of, there was no other way to put it, wealth and comfort. James' family were purebloods, and while they didn't have the same pretentious exhibition of the fact that Sirius' family did, they didn't deny themselves the luxury of their status. Floors were laid with thick cream carpet, walls painted a tasteful deep red, the wooden stair rail gleaming as if just polished.

Mrs Potter, hearing the door, appeared in the archway to the living room and her face broke out in a smile. She was wearing her usual knew length dark skirt and cream blouse, hair pinned on top of her head, coming loose at the sides. Maybe Sirius was imagining it, but her face seemed more lined than he remembered. He'd never liked to entertain the thought that people got old. Sirius thought to himself that if he had the choice, he would never get old.

"Sirius!" Mrs Potter cried, and then frowned. "My, you look thin, and when was the last time you had a haircut?"

"Mum, don't start on him. Are you cooking dinner?" James interjected.

"Really James, think about something else other than your stomach for a change. So… are you moving back in, love?" This was directed at Sirius, who looked guiltily at James for help.

"Uh, Sirius, do you want a decent shower? The one in the flat looked fairly useless, so…"

Sirius jumped at the offer, and shot James a grateful smile. "Yeah, that'd be great, should I…" he motioned to the stairs and James nodded.

"Mum, I uh, want to talk to you about some stuff. Also, seriously, is dinner cooking? I'm a growing boy."

Mrs Potter sighed and turned, James following her back into the kitchen. Sirius took off up the stairs.

He knew the inside of this house almost better than his own, and ran his hand over the ornamental handrail-end shaped like a lion, and looked around. Nothing had changed in the few weeks he'd been gone. He opened the door to the bathroom and slipped inside, quickly yanking his t-shirt over his head and dropping it to the cool floor. He toed off his boots and wriggled out of his jeans, then turned the shower on and let the cold water fall over his hand until it ran warm.

Stepping under the steady flow of almost scalding water was, for Sirius, almost a religious experience. He'd been away from this house, he worked out, for almost a month.

He'd first moved in with James back in April, first week of the Easter holidays. He'd marched out the door of his family home and he hadn't looked back. He'd shown up on James' doorstep with a trunk and an expression as black as his name after that final fight with his parents, and the Potter's had welcomed him in.

Sirius remembered being surprised, so surprised, that anyone that wasn't his kin would want him around like the Potters had. James and Sirius had come as a double act since the first week of their first year, and it'd been that way ever since. Remus and Peter completed their close group, and Sirius tried to push the thought that he hadn't seen these two in very much too long, to the back of his mind.

The shower was cascading down his shoulders and washing away the feeling of dread that had been lingering in Sirius' bones since he'd moved out of this house. He'd known, then, like he knew now, that it was the right thing to do. He'd just been a little more optimistic of his chances back then.

Now that James would be with him, though, Sirius was gradually feeling better. He wasn't going to kid himself that it was solely because he'd missed James. That was a big part of it, but the idea that he wouldn't need to pay the whole rent, buy all the food, spend his time watching races on a dryer in the Laundromat, were what he was clinging to desperately, as though they'd slip away when he wasn't looking.

He stayed in the shower for at least 10 minutes. He knew it wouldn't run cold, but out of common courtesy he reluctantly turned it off. That should have been enough time for James to talk to his parents.

The towels on the heated rail next to the shower were soft and warm and huge, and Sirius wrapped himself in one and felt, suddenly, as though he was 6 years old again. He sat down on the edge of the bath and hugged himself in his fleecy cocoon, and squeezed his eyes shut.

He didn't deny the way he lived was a little fucked up. It wasn't healthy, it wasn't particularly sanity-inducing, but he sort of enjoyed it. At least, he thought he enjoyed it. Freedom and no rules and as much alcohol as he could drink, but it only went so far. It had been a long time since he'd hugged anyone, felt someone's hand in his, fallen asleep with his head on someone else's shoulder.

James' voice outside the door pulled Sirius out of himself. "Pads? You alright in there?"

"Yeah, fine, just… enjoying your towels."

There was a short silence. "That better not be a euphemism."

Sirius barked out a laugh and got up. "It's not, they really are great towels. How'd the talk go?"

"They've agreed, surprisingly. I mean, they're reluctant, but as long as we come here for dinner once a week they're fine with it."

Sirius grinned to himself. Dinner with the Potters once a week wasn't exactly a hardship.

"Brilliant," he replied, and James echoed it on the other side of the door.

"Yeah, brilliant."

Sirius could hear his smile.

He toweled himself down and dressed again, then leapt down the stairs two at a time. When he strolled through into the living room, Mrs Potter gave him a smile and shook her head. "I've missed that thundering noise every time you came down those stairs."

She patted one of the dining table seats, and Sirius looked warily at her, and the scissors that were un-subtly sitting on the dining table.

"Oh don't look like that, it's only a haircut."

"Mum, maybe Sirius doesn't want a haircut…"

"Nonsense, of course he does. Come on, dear."

Sirius really couldn't say no after that, so he let himself be propelled into the chair by James' mum, and watched with sadness as chunks of his hair fell to the floor. By the time she was done, Sirius felt almost bald. On closer inspection in the hall mirror, he found it wasn't as bad as he'd feared, but it was still very much shorter than before.

When he came back into the room, Mrs Potter was levitating the fallen hair into the bin. It looked like quite a lot.

"You could make a cat with that," James pointed out, and Sirius choked on a laugh.

"Please don't," he coughed.

They ended up staying for dinner, talking easily round the big dining room table. Mr Potter, a tall, regal looking man who's imposing image was let down only by his hair, which stood up in tufts no matter how he raked it down, talked about work at the ministry. Mrs Potter talked about the scandal in the inner circles of the pureblood families. The Blacks didn't come up, Sirius was pleased to note.

They asked Sirius where he was working. A bookstore, he told them. James hid a smirk in a mouthful of potato.

"Remus would like that," Mrs Potter said, and Sirius nodded politely. There isn't a lot Remus would like about his life, Sirius thought. That made him a little sad, actually.

Remus had always been Sirius' moral epitome. He was a good student, was always neat and tidy, was basically everything Sirius wasn't. And he had no idea why they had been drawn to each other, him to the quiet, sensitive 11 year old in the bed next to his, or why that shy little boy had followed him and James to class every day, watched the terrible pranks they played on their professors, and still let them copy his homework. Without Remus, he wouldn't have Padfoot. He missed Remus.

By the time dinner was over it was dark, and the Potters wouldn't hear of letting James and Sirius fly back to London.

"I'll take you in the morning," Mr Potter had insisted. "We can floo to Diagon Alley and cross to Muggle London there."

So that was that, and later Sirius sank into the mattress of the giant double bed in the guest room, wearing a pair of James' pajamas and feeling, for not the first time that day, tiny. He fell asleep curled into a ball on the far side of the big bed, and when Mrs Potter put her head around the door to check on him, she felt a lump in her throat to look at the tall, atrociously wild-minded boy, with the dark hair and the strong mind curled around himself, and she silently cursed anyone who'd ever be so stupid as to think that Sirius Black was in any way less vulnerable than anyone else.

The morning brought sun, with a restless wind and a sense of expectation. "A day for doing things," Mr Potter announced as he laced up his shoes. Sirius shoved his feet into his combat boots and grinned at Mrs Potter's look of distaste.

A shout from the stairwell above caused Sirius to jump aside as a trunk hurtled down the stairs, but Mrs Potter raised her wand carelessly and brought the trunk to an abrupt halt before it could crash down the final step. Sirius didn't want to guess at how many times she'd had to do that.

Looking up, they could see James grimacing over the bannister. "Sorry…"

After 3 hugs each from Mrs Potter, the boys and Mr Potter stepped into the floo and reemerged in Diagon Alley. Sirius grinned around him at the busy street, and felt a different sense of 'home.'

A witch with a cat perched on her shoulder shouldered past them, and the cat glared menacingly at Sirius. Sirius barked. The cat's look of shock, he decided, was the highlight of his day.

Mr Potter had set off at a jaunty pace along the street, the crowds seeming to part for his tall figure as he walked. Sirius watched in awe for a moment, and then he tried it. He promptly walked into a small witch with goggle-like glasses and bright blue hair. She opened her eyes very wide behind the lenses and raised her hands, wiggling her fingers downwards towards Sirius' head, without saying a word. Sirius looked around him awkwardly, and saw James laughing so hard he was having to hold on to a lamppost. The witch scurried off, and Sirius hurriedly turned to follow Mr Potter.

He was headed towards the imposing shape of Gringotts. The boys followed him up the grand steps and into the bank, suddenly quiet compared to Diagon Alley outside. Mr Potter headed towards one of the goblins and spoke quietly.

"We would like the change some money into Muggle currency," he said politely.

The goblin looked at him menacingly, but then held out a hand. Mr Potter gestured to James, who fumbled with a money bag in one of his pockets before tentatively handing it over. The goblin snatched it and jumped down from his desk and disappeared from view.

They waited in silence for a few minutes before the goblin came back and handed the money bag back to James. Mr Potter took it from him and checked the contents, and then thanked the goblin.

Sirius walked hurriedly out of the bank ahead of the Potters. It gave him the creeps.

"I don't know anything about Muggle money, Sirius," James confided. "How do you do it?"

Sirius didn't tell him he didn't know either, on the rare occasions he had to pay for something he just handed over a few notes and coins and let the person taking it work it out. "You'll get the hang of it."

They kept steady pace through Diagon Alley, reaching the crossing into Muggle London after a few minutes' walk. Mr Potter went first. He noticeably wrinkled his nose as the bland grey landscape of the city met his eyes.

"Never been fond of London," he sniffed. Sirius almost felt ashamed. He quite liked it.

He felt even more ashamed when the three of them stood together in the narrow doorway of his flat, and Mr Potter went quiet. Eventually, he shook his head, and then smiled at James. "I won't tell your mother."

He left soon after, leaving Sirius and James to sit dejectedly on the tiny sofa.

"So. What do you do all day?" James asked.

"I have work, and sometimes I go downstairs and watch the races on telly. And sometimes I go out, drink, have fun and the likes."

"Yeah, I mean it's the middle of the 70s, I've heard all the stories," James tried, but Sirius just huffed a laugh.

"Muggles are strange, James. You should hear their music. And if I'm honest, half the stuff they're ingesting is worse than magic."

James looked sideways at him. "You mean… Not that I know, but… like, drugs?"

"Yeah, mate. Drugs."

There was a short silence.

"But you've never done that, aye mate?"

"No," Sirius lied.

Sirius came straight home from work that night, unlike almost every other night he'd been in the city, to find James sprawled out on the sofa. The dim ceiling light was on but James was dead to the world. His wand lay on the floor beside him and Sirius picked it up and placed it on the small arm of the couch, and then flicked off the big light. Not that it was casting much of a glow to begin with, but the bare bulb made him feel naked and vulnerable in the dingy little flat.

He cast a Lumos and then set his own wand down on his bed, providing a little light to see by, and undressed. James didn't stir, so Sirius slipped into his bed, muttered "Nox," and then, "Night Prongs."

That night, it rained. Sirius flat, he had discovered a long time ago, leaked. He knew it was fixable, he just didn't have the motivation to find the right charm. Besides, the "drip, drip, drip" of the water hitting the floor was soothing.

James didn't think so, though, and half an hour after he woke to discover the leak, he was standing on the flat's only chair, wand pointed at the offending corner, and trying every charm he knew to close up the gap.

Sirius sighed. "Remus would know."

James nodded, and then the chair broke.

After a short, surprised pause, Sirius said quietly, "I liked that chair," and James almost cried with laughter.

He gathered up the pieces and put them in a pile beside the couch, and pointed his wand. "Repairo!" he tried, but the chair didn't repair-o. "Yeah, didn't think so. I'll find a better charm. Why did you like that chair anyway, it's ugly."

It was painted a sickly green with a high back and painted flowers on the seat. It was ugly. That was why Sirius liked it.

"What do you wanna do today?" Sirius asked.

"I want to find a job," James announced. Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"Where?"

"Anywhere. Maybe I'll make Remus proud and work in a bookstore."

Sirius snorted. "Good luck, mate. There isn't much going."

"Yeah, but not everyone else has my natural charm and good looks."

No, Sirius thought, thank god.

He looked out the dirty window into the street, puddles shining on its surface, but the sky was clearing. So they left the apartment and clattered down the wooden stairs to the sidewalk. They walked down the street, looking into store windows as they came to them. The first one they tried was a second hand television store.

"James, you don't even know how to turn a telly on."

James' expression didn't waver, and he flapped a hand and scoffed. "How hard can that be?"

Reasonably hard, James conceded, as they left the shop a few minutes later. As the hour wore on and still more and more shops turned down James' 'natural charm and good looks', Sirius was feeling both triumphant that he'd been right, and kind of sorry for his friend.

They admitted defeat around lunch time and turned to go home. Sirius paused at a crossing, but instead of crossing the road he turned left, dragging James by the sleeve after him. He had seen, and been instantly drawn to, something that was parked outside a tiny garage a little way along the road.

James hung back and watched as his friend walked as though in a trance towards a gleaming motorcycle, and ran his hands over the seat and the handle bars, transfixed. James coughed and Sirius snapped his head up to see a rotund man with a grizzly looking beard and a dirty white singlet coming towards him. Sirius withdrew his hands guiltily, but the man grinned toothily at him.

"Aye, now, it's alright, she's a beauty ain't she?"

Sirius nodded, swallowing. "Yours?"

The man chuckled and nodded. "For sale, though."

Sirius' eyes widened, and even James stepped a little closer.

"Aye, but she's broke. Won't go. I just polish her up so people take an interest, like. Ain't nothing too badly wrong, just can't get the parts, y'see."

Sirius nodded, again eyes trained on the sleek brown polish of the bike. He almost daren't ask.

"How- how much?"

The man eyed him carefully, took in the wide eyes and the hand still stroking the dark leather seat, and he said, "She's $2000 new…"

Sirius' whole face dropped. There was no way he could afford that, never in a million years, so he just nodded.

The man wasn't finished, though. "But like I said, I can't ge' the parts. She's useless without th' parts." He waited, holding Sirius' gaze. "You think you can get them?"

Sirius nodded surely. This man may have tried his best, but this man didn't carry a wand.

"You fell in love with 'er, soon as you saw 'er," the man said good-naturedly.

Sirius nodded, but then he grimaced, "To be honest, sir, no matter what you could offer me I'd find it hard to pay. I'm not too well off."

The man guffawed and shook his head. "Who is these days, lad? Do you have a job?"

"I work nights in a pub," Sirius said, and the man nodded.

"Noble work, young man, noble work. And how about yer days, what's fillin' them?"

Sirius shook his head, "Nothing. I mean, I usually sleep."

Again the man threw back his head and laughed, and then reached up a hand to rub at his jaw.

"What's yer name?"

"Sirius. Black- Sirius Black."

A grin curved the man's mouth upwards. "Black, Sirius Black, you come and work for me, and you pay off that bike when you can, and you can 'ave 'er for three hundred."

Sirius felt dizzy, he didn't know what to do.

He looked at James, who was just standing with his arms folded, grinning from ear to ear and shaking his head. Then he looked back at the man, and still not knowing what to say, he just held out his hand. The man took it, and shook it firmly.

"Th' name's Barney, and you can start tomorrow, Black Sirius Black."

Sirius practically skipped home, with James jogging to keep up as Sirius zigzagged his way along the sidewalk, shaking his head and grinning, and saying, "James, oh my god, James," over and over again.

James grinned at him and sighed. "We were meant to be finding me a job, how did you come away with another one?"

Sirius pulled a 'let-me-think' face, and then said, "Must be my natural charm and good looks." James punched him in the arm.

They stopped in a little fish n chip shop and James bought a bundle of hot chips, which they tore a hole in the packet of and pulled out one by one as they walked home. They were hot enough to scald the roofs of their mouths, so they ate slow. Sirius didn't mind. It was the best meal he'd had in weeks.

Pushing open the door to the little flat, Sirius glanced at the little clock ticking determinedly away above the sink and pushed his hair back from his forehead.

"I have to go to work tonight, do you wanna come and check out the bar? You don't have to stay, but there's a pool table, and a jukebox…" He realized how lame he was making it sound, but James was nodding agreement.

So when Sirius changed into one of his tighter white t-shirts and left the apartment that evening, James came with him.

The pub was open all day, but it only got busy later. Sirius took over the shift from a young girl with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, pouffed at the front and with a bow tied around the elastic. Sirius gave her a smile as he came in, and she sighed and threw the teatowel she'd been holding over her shoulder.

"Heya, Sirius."

"Alright, Nancy?"

"God, has it been dull today," the girl rolled her eyes, and James sat down at one of the little round tables near the bar, and watched as Sirius took the tea towel and wiped it down. The girl watched him work, and if James wasn't mistaken, her eyes strayed down to his behind at least twice. She caught him looking and instead of going red or pretending she hadn't been looking, she winked. James, surprised, grinned at her.

"Right, catch you tomorrow then," she said to Sirius, who nodded a vague,

"See ya, Nance."

James waited a minute after she left, and then got up and leant on the bar. "Mate, she was checking you out."

"I know," was Sirius' reply.

"Well, she's cute…" James tried, and Sirius just looked at him blankly.

"She's Muggle."

James sighed, and Sirius continued. "Besides, half the fun is when they don't like you back. You can vouch for that, can't you?" He grinned and James rolled his eyes.

He wandered around the little pub, taking in the wooden paneling of the walls and scuffed red carpet, and the tacky velvet curtains at the window. The tables were polished, though, and the jukebox had some good tracks, according to James' little knowledge of Muggle music, and it smelled like alcohol and age. He liked it.

By the time James had requested three songs on the jukebox and lost two games of pool, the bar was packed. James found it hard to move, and Sirius looked run off his feet, hair messy from having his hands run through it so often, so James nabbed a seat at the bar and asked him for whatever drink was the least trouble to make. Sirius handed him a beer.

"Is it usually this busy?" James asked him, and he nodded.

"'Round about. The crowd changes every night. Fridays are the worst, Mondays are usually pretty good. This is about a regular Tuesday."

"And you get Sundays off?"

"Yeah, Nancy does Sundays," Sirius replied as he deftly poured two mugs of beer and plonked them down on the bar and flicking the money into the till.

James waited another hour, people watching and chatting to Sirius when he could until the crowd was beginning to go down and he had finished his beer. Sirius was leaning on the bar counting some notes, and James yawned.

"What time are done here?" he asked, and Sirius pulled a face.

"10, so another hour or so. Go home, make some tea. Oh, wait we don't have any. Uh, make some water."

James huffed a laugh and nodded.

"See you at home then," and shoving his hands in his pockets he sauntered out of the bar.

'Home' Sirius thought. Yeah, it felt like it now.

As soon as James got in, he wrote a letter.

Sirius let himself into the dark flat a little after 10 to find James asleep, not on the couch, but in his bed. He snorted and toed off his shoes, crossed the living room into the little bedroom, then slipped into the bed by James' feet.

James shifted and then said sleepily, "Aren't we a bit old to top and tail, Pads?"

"Should have thought about that before you fell asleep in my bed", Sirius said, and gave his arm a kick just for good measure.

Sirius awoke to sun streaming through his window, and the feeling of a foot shoved hard up against his ribcage.

He groaned. "James, you've gotta get yourself a bed."

James yawned hugely and then hid his head under the pillow. Sirius's pillow.

Sirius clambered out of bed, making sure to shake it as much as possible, and went through into the tiny bathroom. He turned on the shower and the pipes groaned unhappily as the water drizzled through them. Sirius knew how they felt.

He leaned against the sink and let his mind wander to the motorcycle. That glorious motorcycle with the gleaming hazel-gold body and the leather seat. Soon, his motorcycle. He wondered how long it would take him to work off three hundred dollars. Depends on what Barney was willing to pay, he mused. He knew a little about mechanics, he'd read magazines and watched in awe the telly programs on race cars, and he knew he was clever. He'd pick it up.

He showered fast, reluctant to stand under the pathetic stream of water for longer than he needed to. He passed James on the way out, still sleeping, and he gave him a slap on the shoulder and said, "Off to the garage, home later."

He walked out into the street with, for a change, a sense of purpose, feet scuffing the concrete in his boots and eyes squinting against the morning sun. He found a dollar in his pocket and stopped at a little bakery he passed and bought a sandwich, which he finished just before rounding the corner of the street the garage was on. He tossed the paper bag onto the curb, and then feeling bad, turned around and subtly drew his wand.

"Evanesco," he muttered, and the paper bag disappeared.

He tucked his wand back into his jeans and pushed his hands into his pockets, suddenly a little nervous. The door of the garage was open, and Sirius could see a pair of legs sticking out from under a car near the back.

"Barney?" he called, and the legs shifted and Barney wiggled out from under the car.

"'Allo, Sirius, you're nice and early."

Sirius shrugged and gave him a wry smile. "The sooner I start working, the sooner she's mine," he said, longingly looking over to where the bike was resting on its stand near the far wall.

Barney nodded sagely. "True, lad, true. Now how many cars have you seen inside?"

They spent the morning tinkering, or in Sirius' case, taking things apart to see how they would fit back together. He took a break at lunch time and leant against the wall at the front of the garage, breathing in the smell of engine oil and glancing every few minutes at the bike still standing at the far side of the garage. He had a thought, and went back inside to where Barney was wiping his hands on an old cloth and looking down, pleased, into the bonnet of one of the cars.

"She was a tricky one, this 'un. Done now."

"Looks good," Sirius agreed, and then, "Barney, I wanted to ask, the bike, you won't sell her out from under me while I'm working it off will you?"

Barney squinted at him. "No, son, course not. I make an honest living, and I'm not a crook. Don' you worry 'bout that. I've promised her to you. And who knows, maybe when you've paid her off you'll stay on 'ere anyway. Work for money and all." He smiled wryly and Sirius felt better.

"Thanks, that's good to know. And, how long will it take me to work it off?"

Barney scratched his chin. "I was wonderin' tha' too. You any good at sums?"

Sirius nodded, and Barney crossed the room to a work bench and grabbed an old instruction manual and a pencil, and then handed them to Sirius.

"Now, I'll pay ye' $2.50 an hour." Sirius was silently pleased. It was more than he was getting at the bar. "And say's you work 7 hours a day, how much is tha' a day?"

Sirius scribbled on the back of the manual, and then replied, "$17.50."

"Right, an' 5 days a week, maybe 6 if you want ta come down on Saturdays…"

"Including Saturdays, that's $105 a week."

"Right then, you'll be the official owner in three weeks then."

Sirius felt giddy. Such a short amount of time for something so gorgeous.

"An you can work on 'er here if you like, during work hours if you wanna 'ave a tinker while we're quiet…"

Sirius was grinning now, nodding gratefully. He'd have to find some time when Barney wasn't around to fix up the parts by magic, but that wouldn't be too hard.

By the time he got home, he was smeared with engine oil and sweat and feeling happier than he had in weeks. James wrinkled his nose as he came through the door.

"Mate, did you go swimming in oil?"

Sirius flipped him off and went through into the bathroom.

"And what have you done all day?" Sirius yelled from the other room.

"This and that," James yelled back. "I got some food."

"How much food?"

"Loaf of bread and a bottle of milk!"

Sirius pulled a face. "Exciting…"

"Hey, don't see you going shopping, it's hard! There are a lot of things I didn't understand the point of, and- and a Muggle laughed at me!"

Sirius yanked his damp, greasy shirt over his head and chucked it on the floor, testing the water with one hand. Bloody freezing.

"Muggles always laugh at you James, I've told you, it's the glasses." He heard a huff from the other room and then James appeared in the doorway.

"Take it back and I'll make your shower warm."

Sirius snorted. "Can't, I've tried. The charm doesn't hold."

James just raised his eyebrows.

"Fine, I'm sorry Prongsie, they're lovely glasses. Truly smashing. Twice, if you step on them."

James didn't look impressed, but he drew his wand out of his back pocket and pointed it at the rusty shower head.

"Calefacius," he announced.

Sirius gingerly put a hand under the water and looked shocked when he felt it was warm, hot even.

"How?"

"Heating charm on the shower head. Make that red hot, the water will heat up on the way through."

Sirius was annoyed he hadn't thought of that. "Ta, Prongs."

He enjoyed his shower, standing under the water for a good ten minutes. James, straying into the kitchen for another piece of bread, turned as the bathroom door opened and a big black dog trotted out, soaking wet, tongue lolling out. He laughed, until the dog started to shake.

Water flew everywhere, spraying James and the rest of the room with water. The dog stopped shaking and looked at James for a second, tongue still hanging out, and James just shook his head. Turning back around and trotting into the bathroom, the dog morphed back into Sirius just as it made it through the door, leaving James with the image of Sirius' bare behind.

"Was that because you didn't think of the shower thing first, or because I only bought bread?" James called.

"Neither. I don't have any towels."

When Sirius left for work that night, James was just finishing the loaf of bread. He was toasting the last piece, stuck on the end of his wand, using Sirius' wand to light a flame just under it. It seemed he was burning his fingers more often than he was toasting the bread, but he seemed happy.

Nancy gave Sirius a smile as he let himself in, and he took the time to watch her as she finished drying the last of the glasses. She was pretty, he decided. Other people would agree she was pretty. Still, nothing special. Sirius decided his short attention span wouldn't do well to have someone pretty but not much else. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he had no idea if she was clever, or if she had a sense of humour, or if she could shut James up with just a look. Sirius knew only two people who could do that. One of those was Lily, and the other was Remus. Sirius lived in awe of that skill, but had never been able to attain it.

Besides, the idea of spending time with someone who would run a mile at the sight of him shifting form into that of a dog, sounded tedious. He didn't know for sure if Nancy was adverse to shape-shifting Wizards, but he had a pretty good idea. Honestly, she'd be dumb not to be.

For the first hour of his shift, the usual older men and saddened middle age business folk stopped in, drank their sorrows, and then headed home to a tv dinner and an early night. Sirius almost felt sick at the idea of living like that.

The second hour brought young people, girls in twirly dresses and young men in flared jeans and earrings. Sirius liked to see how many of the girls he could wink at and make blush without their young male counterparts noticing. Since most of the boys were more interested in themselves and the state of their hair, Sirius often quickly lost interest in that game. When they started drinking, it became too easy.

He caught the eye of a girl in a yellow dress, a daisy patterned head cloth around her hair. The bight dress was rather an assault on the eyes, and he thought if the girl's boyfriend, a tall, willowy guy with long hair and a peace-sign necklace, took offence at Sirius' gesture, Sirius could just say the dress had made his eyes water.

The next time he caught the girl's eye, he winked. The girl, as predicted, giggled and went pink.

Too easy, Sirius thought.

He picked up a glass, polishing it against a cloth, and then got the feeling he was being looked at. Nothing new there, he wore tight shirts for a reason, but he looked up at the far end of the bar and saw, not a girl inspecting his body, but another boy.

He was tall, slim, wearing tight jeans and a light coloured jean-jacket. Sirius quickly looked down at the glass he was polishing, fumbling slightly as he placed it back on the bar. He poured someone a drink and then glanced nonchalantly back to where the guy had been standing. The guy was still staring, and when Sirius caught his eye this time, the guy winked.

Sirius' eyes widened. The guy smirked. Sirius fled.

The door to the men's bathroom swung shut behind him and Sirius leant on the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror.

Maybe he should stop playing that game.

He pushed the door back open and came out into the dark hall, the light and noise of the pub hitting him again from a few meters away down the dim passage.

A figure was leaning on the wall by the door, and Sirius realized too late it was the guy from the bar. Too late to act like he wasn't quite done in the bathroom and hide back inside, Sirius looked at the floor and tried to walk casually past him, but the guy put a hand out and caught Sirius' upper arm. Sirius jerked in alarm, and the other man smiled.

"Sorry, love. Didn't mean to scare you." He ducked his head and gave Sirius a smile, and Sirius eyed him warily.

"Don't call me love," he managed, and the guy gave a soft laugh, stepping closer.

"I'll call you whatever you want me to call you," he said, voice low, hand coming to rest back on Sirius' shoulder. Sirius was scared now. He didn't know if he wanted to run or punch the guy. He shook his head instead.

"I- I don't, I mean, you're barking up the wrong tree here, mate, I'm not-"

The man cut him off with a laugh. Up close, Sirius could see he was a few years older than himself, the jean jacket hugging his torso, biceps visible when he flexed his arm to give Sirius' shoulder a squeeze.

"You sure?"

Sirius stared. "I… what? Course I'm sure!" Indignation started to turn into anger, and Sirius was about to follow through and actually punch the guy when he was suddenly pushed backwards to be held up against the wall, the other guy's body flush against his. Sirius, although he would never admit it, was terrified.

"For someone who's sure, you do seem awfully keen to assert your pull on the ladies." The words were whispered low in his ear, and Sirius panicked, shoving the guy away from him and taking off down the passageway back to the bar. A panicked glance at the clock showed him he had an hour left of his shift.

Hands shaking, Sirius poured another beer for a balding man in a floral shirt, and then rushed to fill the demand for drinks that had built up in the two minutes he'd been gone.

The guy hadn't followed him out of the hall, and Sirius didn't see him again.

Sirius slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning in the tiny bed. At half past one, he got up, shifted into Padfoot and trotted out into the lounge where James was sprawled on the couch. He jumped carefully up onto James feet, and James sat up blearily. "Pads?"

Sirius nosed at his hand and James smiled and lay back down.

"Night, Sirius."

The next day Sirius escaped to the garage again. On his lunch break, he walked to the little corner shop and bought a bottle of milk and a bag of crisps. In the afternoon, he organized the shelves of the workshop, and found the instruction manual for the bike.

Barney gave him a clap on the shoulder and a smile when he saw his work, and said, "Take the manual home. Might learn something."

He got home to find James was out, so he had a go at fixing the ugly chair, took a shower, and then left for the bar.

If I see that guy again, Sirius resolved, I'll just punch him.

He didn't, and the bar was much less busy than the night before. He poured drinks, he flirted with the girls, he wiped down the sticky bar and tried not to look at the clock too often. At around 8 o'clock he discovered they were out of vodka, so he flipped a tea towel over his shoulder and ducked into the back room to grab another bottle.

On his return, he found someone new sitting at the bar.

The tea towel was thrown to the floor, the vodka plonked down on the bench, and Sirius launched himself out from behind the bar and bodily threw his arms around the new arrival.

Remus.

Sirius let go of him after a while, grinning hugely. "Mate, how? Why are you here? When did you get here? Who told you where to go? James? It was James, wasn't it?"

Remus laughed. "He wrote to me when you moved out, asked if I'd heard from you. Which I hadn't. Two months, Sirius! Two months and I haven't heard hide nor hair from you! What have you been doing?"

Sirius smiled, a little guiltily, and gestured around himself. "Well… this. And I have a motorbike, you should see her, Remus, she's the most beautiful thing-"

"Hey! Can we get some drinks over here?"

He was interrupted by a prissy looking girl waving an empty glass in the air further down the bar, and Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Right back," he told Remus, and slipped back behind the bar.

He filled the girl's drink, being stingy on the alcohol and generous with the syrup, just because she was such a bitch.

Remus leant his elbows on the bar and watched as Sirius poured another beer, deftly cutting off the flow just before it spilled over, leaving the perfect amount of froth on the top and then placing it down on the bar and flicking the coins into the till. He nudged it closed with his hip and grinned at Remus.

"Anyway, like I was saying," he continued, taking a pound note from another customer and pouring 4 shots of tequila into their glasses one after another, without tilting the bottle back up, "I have a bike, well sort of. I'm working to pay her off in a garage down the block. And here at the bar, 6 days a week. Have you seen the flat?"

Remus nodded, watching Sirius wipe down the spillage from a rum and coke he'd just handed over and then drape the tea towel back over his shoulder. "Yeah, James met me at the station and took me there before I came here. I uh, left my bag up there too..."

Sirius stopped mid movement, and let out a bark of laughter. "That's brilliant, Remus, god! The Marauders back together! Well almost. Wait, Peter's not…"

Remus laughed, shaking his head. "No, sorry, James wrote to him but he's in Scotland with his folks. Back in a week, though. Might come down."

Sirius grinned, gazing at Remus. His hair was longer, and Sirius could see the beginnings of stubble around his jaw from where he hadn't shaved in a few days. Sirius had long ago perfected the charm for that, he'd have to show Remus sometime. Dark circles under his eyes were a tell-tale sign of the full moon a couple of nights ago, but he looked good. Happy. Like Sirius felt, looking at him.

"Refill?" he asked, taking Remus' empty glass. "On the house," he added.

Remus gave him a chastising look. "Should you be giving away alcohol?"

Sirius shrugged and poured him another one.

Remus was about to say something along the lines of, 'You'll lose your job,' but then he realized that actually, Sirius was good at this. Which really wasn't anything new, Sirius was good at most things, but Remus had never considered Sirius to have, well, the sticking power to see something through, especially a job.

Remus stayed 'til the end of Sirius' shift, sitting backwards on the stool and leaning back on the bar to watch as Sirius wiped tables and pulled curtains.

A short man, hair slightly greasy and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, let himself in and grunted a greeting at Sirius. He didn't pay any attention to Remus, instead emptying the cash register and running a finger along the top of the bar then inspecting the tip.

On his way out he slapped a couple of bills down on the table by Sirius, who nodded his thanks, but as soon as the man left the bar Sirius wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Owner," he told Remus unnecessarily. It had been obvious.

"Is he a good boss?" Remus asked, and Sirius shrugged.

"Hardly ever see him. Suits me fine."

They walked home through the darkened streets. Sirius was tired, and Remus didn't press him to talk, but as they paused outside the door to the flat, Sirius turned and gave Remus a smile. "I'm really glad you're here."

James was still up, sitting on the awful, but fixed, green chair, reading Sirius' motorbike manual.

"You fixed my ugly chair!"

James looked guilty. "Remus fixed your ugly chair."

Sirius slapped Remus on the shoulder and grinned. "I like my ugly chair."

A parcel of newspaper was sitting on the table, smelling distinctly of hot chips.

"Thought you might be hungry?" James rubbed the back of his neck, and the other two boys nodded eagerly.

Remus crossed the room to the little fridge and opened it, then looked disappointed and closed it again. He opened several cupboards before James said, "I did that too, they're all empty."

"Why haven't you gone shopping?"

Sirius, through a mouthful of chips, said, "James tried, but a Muggle laughed at him."

"What, isn't he used to that by now?" Remus grinned, and Sirius almost choked on his mouthful.

"Urf wherf er serfh!"

Remus raised his eyebrows. James rolled his eyes and supplied, "He said, 'that's what I said.'"

Sirius nodded happily, cramming some more chips in his mouth.

"Why do you only have one chair?" Remus asked, looking at James sitting on the ugly chair, and Sirius who was sitting on the edge of the table. The table didn't look happy with the arrangement.

Sirius shrugged. "There was only one here, and where are you meant to buy chairs?"

Remus just stared at him, and shook his head. "Tomorrow we are going food and necessity shopping."

"Are chairs really a necessity?" Sirius asked, and Remus looked around.

"Well I'm not going to eat my meals, when we get them that is, standing up."

He grabbed a handful of chips and looked around as if expecting a plate to magically appear. One didn't.

"I wish we were all better at conjuring."

The other two nodded, sadly.

Sirius nabbed the last few chips from the paper, and noticed Remus looking around the flat again.

"What now?" he asked.

"Nothing, it's just… where are we all going to sleep."

James stood up and kicked the chair back under the table, screwing up the paper from the chips and tossing it towards the bench. It missed and he left it.

"Me and Sirius can top and tail, and you can have the couch?"

Remus looked a little concerned, but he nodded. "Is that going to be a long term thing..?"

James was starting to look concerned too, probably at the idea of waking up to Sirius' feet in his face every morning. "Are beds expensive?"

Remus snorted. "Yes. Yes they are."

There was a silence. None of them felt like addressing any more of the problems that might occur with three of them now living in what was basically two rooms, neither with much going for them.

"Do you have a shower?" Remus asked, and Sirius brightened. That was something they did have.

"Yeah, through here. And if you cast a heating charm on the showerhead, you get as much hot water as you like." He saw James looking at him, and added, "That was James' idea."

Remus smiled and pushed himself off the bench where he'd been leaning. "I'll have a shower then."

"The charm is 'Calefacius'!" Sirius called after him.

"Pads, I'm thinking of heading round to see Lily day after next. It's only a short train ride and her parents say I can stay in the spare room so I don't have to get home in the dark, and you'll have Remus, so-"

"Yeah, course, go, that sounds brilliant," Sirius grinned at James. "And who says you have to stay in the spare room, if you know what I mean…"

James picked up the pillow off the bed and thumped Sirius with it, but he was smiling. "Get out, I want to get changed."

Sirius laughed, "What, suddenly coy Prongs? We shower together!"

"God Sirius, when you say it like that. It's a large room, and there are lots of other people in it… I'm not really making this better am I?"

Sirius laughed, hard. "Nope."

From the bathroom, Remus, hearing everything, grinned to himself.

To say they slept comfortably would be an exaggeration. Halfway through the night Sirius woke up to get a glass of water, and came back to find James had taken over the entire bed. He sighed and turned into Padfoot, and leapt up onto the bed to settle on James' feet. It worked well, and Sirius thought if they couldn't find an alternative he wouldn't mind sleeping as Padfoot more often than not.

In the morning, Remus poked his head through the door, saw them asleep, and snorted. Padfoot raised his head and whined at him. Remus smiled. "Didn't think we were allowed pets?"

Padfoot's tongue lolled out and he panted happily and jumped down off the bed, turning back into Sirius mid jump to leave him sprawling on the floor. "Graceful," Remus laughed. James slept peacefully on despite the thud Sirius had made.

"Do you wanna come see my bike?" Sirius asked as he and Remus stared longingly into the empty fridge. "We could get some food-"

"Definitely," Remus cut him off.

They stopped at the little bakery and got hot mince pies. "Do you think James will want one?" Remus asked, so they got one for James too.

"It'll be cold by the time you give it to him," Sirius pointed out, and Remus stopped to cast a subtle heat-retention charm on the bag.

They walked the few blocks to the garage and found it locked, so they waited, finishing their pies and leaning on the garage door.

Barney arrived after about 10 minutes and Sirius introduced Remus, and said he was just going to show him the bike. As they wove in and out of various car parts and benches, Remus looked a little worried he was going to touch something he shouldn't or get grease on his clothes, but he stood patiently while Sirius wheeled the bike out of its corner and pointed out all the things that he was particularly proud of. Remus, knowing nothing at all about cars or bikes or anything that had an engine, nodded and smiled and said, "Yes, she's very pretty," at all the right moments.

Then Barney called Sirius over to help him lift something, and Remus said he'd better head home and give James his breakfast.

The day went fast, with Sirius cleaning things and stripping things and wiring things and then unwiring them and then wiring them again. He took apart the engine of the bike that afternoon, and discovered the cam chain was broken. Barney looked over as Sirius swore, and nodded.

"Aye, she won't be easy to fix, lad. I've got a few contacts who might have the part…"

But Sirius knew this was fixable with the right spell. He needed one that would bind metal. Remus would know. He nodded anyway, "Thanks, Barney."

When he got home, he found James and Remus playing cards.

"Where did you get cards?" he asked.

"I brought them," said Remus, throwing down the ace of spades triumphantly. The ace of spades yelled, "Ouch!"

James grumpily put down the sighing three of clubs and said, "You should have brought wizard's chess, I would have beaten you at that."

Remus laughed, "Then why would I want to bring that?"

Sirius headed in the direction of the bathroom, shedding clothing as he walked. "Is that all you've done today?"

"Actually, I got a job," James said proudly.

Sirius stopped and turned, shirt half over his head. "Really? Where?"

"Well it's not a permanent sort of thing, but there's this old lady down the street whose son is away, and she needs someone to help her around the house."

Sirius snorted.

"Not like that, Sirius, come on, she's 80."

Remus smirked. James ignored them both.

"I'll just be carrying things, her shopping, gardening-"

"Do you have to help her shower?" Sirius cut in slyly.

"Ew, no, mate that's gross. I'm sure she can undress herself. I thought you'd be happy for me, it sounds ideal, her son is away for another 2 weeks."

"Sorry, Prongs, yeah it sounds great. Well done. How did you find out about it?"

Remus answered, "We were walking home from buying milk and she was struggling with her shopping bags, and James, like the gentleman he is-" Sirius snorted again but Remus continued, "-helped her with them and they got chatting."

Sirius looked hopefully at the kitchen. "Did you buy anything else but milk?"

"No, we were waiting for you so we could go proper shopping."

"What, at a supermarket? Look out James, there might be laughing Muggles."

James tossed the queen of hearts at him, and the queen screamed and then missed Sirius altogether to land on the couch.

"Hurry up and have your shower, we're going grocery shopping."

They left the flat and trailed out into the street, which was looking greyer and more like rain by the minute. The nearest supermarket was a couple of blocks away, and soon a sign announcing "Tesco" came into view.

Sirius pushed open the door and they went in, to be greeted by aisles and aisles of food. It was a little overwhelming.

"Have either of you two ever grocery shopped before?" Remus asked, and they shook their heads. Remus looked worried.

"Have you?" Sirius asked, and Remus looked unsure.

"A few times, with my mother."

"Lead the way then," James said, giving him a shove towards the fruit section. Remus snagged a basket off the top of the stack and wandered towards the bananas. The other two followed.

"Do we like fruit?" James asked, and the other two looked unsure.

"I like it at school. Is it the same?" Sirius asked, and then had a quick look around him before picking a grape off one of the bunches and popping it in his mouth. He made a 'so-so' face.

"Sirius, you can't…" but Remus gave up, as Sirius was already wandering off in the direction of the apples.

They bought a bag of apples and decided that was enough fruit, and potatoes, because they go with everything and, as Sirius put it, mashing them was fun.

The meat section had them all confused, as none of them had any idea how to cook it.

"It can't be that hard? Can't you just… I don't know, put it in the oven and it does stuff and then you eat it?" James asked.

"I don't think it does, I think you have to do stuff to it," Remus said, and they all stared at the various slabs of meat behind the glass of the butchery section.

Eventually, they bought a lot of ham, because you can eat that cold, and some sausages, because Remus said he knew how to cook those.

"Do you have a frying pan?" Remus asked, and Sirius shrugged. Remus sighed.

"We'll buy a frying pan."

The basket slowly filled with odds and ends of food the one or more of the boys thought they could turn into some sort of meal. Remus, the practical one, threw in toilet paper, soap, tea leaves, butter, milk and a few loaves of bread, and thought at least now they wouldn't starve. They may have to eat some interesting combinations of flavours, but there was always bread.

As they passed the aisle with soap and other soap-like things, James looked dolefully down it and said, "That's where the Muggle laughed at me." Sirius stopped and stepped back so he could look down the aisle.

"Why?"

James turned and went down it, and picked up a small box off one of the shelves.

"I'm not sure, I was just trying to find out what these are for."

Sirius sounded out the word on box. "Tam…pax."

He looked confusedly at Remus, who was trying to hold in a laugh.

"What? What are they? Did you read the back, James?"

"No, I put them away when the Muggle laughed…" He turned the box over and they read the back, scanning the tiny words until the found what they were used for. James choked on his own saliva and threw the box back onto the shelf and Sirius went very pale, staring at the display as if frozen in time.

Remus cackled, grabbing Sirius by the arm and following James out of the aisle.

Deciding they were well and truly done with grocery shopping, they paid for the food, splitting the bill 3 ways, and then headed home each clutching one of the brown paper bags.

"There's no Muggles around, can't we just levitate them?" Sirius complained, and Remus gave him a stern look.

"No. We mayn't have the trace on us anymore but it's still illegal to practice magic in public."

Sirius huffed and rolled his eyes.

James, in an effort to cheer Sirius up, suggested, "Let's go out tonight. After you finish work, Sirius, let's hit up another bar, have some fun."

"Won't Sirius be tired?" Remus asked, and Sirius glanced over, pleased the Remus seemed concerned.

"Nah, I'm fine, let's do it." Then something caught his eye from a shop window, and he paused. It was an old leather jacket, a bit worn and brown in some places but still, a proper leather jacket.

He started towards the door, and Remus and James looked at each other. James shrugged, and they followed him in.

The inside of the little second hand shop smelt of dust and forgotten things, and was very, very quiet. Sirius shoved his shopping bag at James, who clutched it to him with some difficulty until Remus put his bag down and took it from him.

Sirius was lifting the jacket off the display and shrugging it over his shoulders. It fit perfectly and he grinned at the other two.

"How do I look?"

"Very teenage rebel," Remus supplied, and James nodded.

"Perfect," Sirius replied.

He took it off and found the price tag. He frowned a little, and turned the tag over, then back again.

"What?" Remus asked, and Sirius held out the tag which said, '£2.70'.

"Why is it so cheap?" Remus asked, and James huffed a laugh.

"Maybe someone died in it?"

"Cool…" Sirius whispered.

Remus laughed and shook his head. "Sorry Sirius, I don't think that's it. Turn it over."

The back of the jacket had a tear in the leather, almost all the way across the lower back. It was a clean tear, and Remus said quietly, "You could mend that with the right spell."

Sirius' eyes lit up and he grinned.

He made his way to the counter at the back of the shop and rang the little bell, and a voice called, "Coming!"

He waited, and then hearing a soft laugh he turned to see Remus pull something off a hanger. Remus shrugged on a purple waistcoat that was slightly too big, hanging open to display the flower print on the lining.

"Here, and these," James laughed, and handed him a pair of round, tinted glasses.

Remus put them on and then struck a pose, one hand on his hip, the other stretched up, finger pointing to the sky.

"Flower power?" he grinned, and then sheepishly took the glasses off as an old lady came out from the back room.

Sirius tried to get his laughter under control as he paid for the jacket.

They headed back out into the street, Sirius proudly wearing his jacket and carrying his shopping bag again.

They came to the steps of the flat to find an owl perched on the handrail of the front steps, holding a letter in its beak. James reached for it, and the owl relinquished it with a small peck to James' thumb. James shot it a dirty look and it cocked his head at him.

Reading out loud, James began.

"Dear James, Sirius and Remus,

The weather in Scotland is terrible, and my parents are, as they put it, mighty sick of wet clothes, so we're coming home a few days early. I hope you are having fun in your house, Sirius, working in a bar sounds so cool, I can't wait to see it. James, how is Lily? And Remus, I hope you're not too worn out after the full last week.

If you'll still have me, I would really like to accept James' invitation of coming to stay. Let me know and I can take a train to Marylebone Station to meet you. I have a Muggle aunt who lives in London so I can stay with her if there is not enough room.

Hope you are all well, hoping to hear from you soon.

Yours faithfully (also wetly, Scotland is the pits),

Peter"

James looked up from the letter and grinned. "This is going to be brilliant."

Remus was looking doubtful. "Where are we all going to sleep?"

James' smile faded a little, and Sirius said, "Oh come on, cheer up, The Marauders together again! I'll sleep as Padfoot, takes up less room. James and Remus can have the bed, Peter can have the couch. Sorted! Come on, get inside, these bags are heavy and it's starting to rain."

They got inside and set the grocery bags down on the table, and Remus started to unpack them. Sirius glanced at the dusty clock on his wall, which ran half an hour slow and he hadn't bothered to fix, which told him he had an hour before he had to be at work.

"I have work in half an hour," he said, and slumped down onto the couch. Remus squinted at the clock.

"Is that clock right?" he asked, and Sirius shook his head.

James cast a Tempus to check the time and then took the clock down, moving the hand forward half an hour.

"I liked it slow." Sirius grumbled.

Remus and James shared a look, which Sirius ignored.

"Sirius, now you have us to help pay rent, why don't you cut back on the amount of nights you work at the pub?" James suggested.

Sirius hadn't thought of that.

"I could, I guess, but I'd have to find someone to cover for me…"

"Nancy would do it, I bet," James said, winking at Sirius.

"Who's Nancy?" Remus asked, more sharply than any of them were expecting. He quickly smoothed his features and tried to look only vaguely interested.

James looked at him sideways. "I was only kidding, just a girl Sirius takes over in the pub from. I think she's into him, is all."

Remus nodded, trying to look like like he hadn't actually wanted to know.

James looked confused.

Sirius' stomach was trying to digest itself.

In an attempt to move on from the awkward subject change, Remus cleared his throat and said, "Sirius, why don't you mend the jacket?"

Sirius shrugged. "What charm would I use?"

Crumpling and vanishing the last paper bag, Remus crossed the room and opened his bag and pulled out a book.

"How on earth did you fit that in there?" James said in wonderment.

"The bag's charmed to be bigger on the inside," Remus replied, and then flipped the book open. He turned a few pages and then ran a finger down the page to land on a spell, and then passed the book to Sirius.

"That one should work."

Sirius read the little blurb on mending and housework charms, ignoring the fact that this book was obviously written last century, as the opening sentence was, 'Possibly the most important charms a witch can know..." He snorted and shook his head.

"You mean 'Carcio'?"

Remus nodded. "You could try 'Reparo' but that one looks to be specifically for clothing."

Sirius tried 'Reparo', and the leather rejoined the whole way along, but when he gently gave it a tug, it reopened and was back to how it was before. However with 'Carcio', he could see the leather almost grow back together again, and although it only did a small section at a time it didn't come apart when he pulled it, even quite hard.

"Thanks, Rem," he said, concentrating on another section of the tear.

Remus smiled. "Don't call me Rem."

Work was long, and dull, and Sirius was glad when it was ten minutes til closing and James and Remus walked through the door. Sirius kicked the last few patrons out and locked up. The greasy-haired owner shuffled in just as they were locking the side door, and they waited while he emptied the till and then handed Sirius his pay for the night.

"Uh, Mr Calder, Sir, I was wondering if there is anyway I can cut back on my hours, if there was anyone else asking for a job who could take over a few nights a week?"

Mr Calder eyed him with disdain and huffed a sigh. "Always kids asking for jobs, sonny, if you're willing to give up a couple nights' pay a week then I won't have any trouble replacing you. How many do you want to be working?"

"I, uh…" Sirius glanced at James and Remus who shrugged and didn't say anything. "Maybe, 4 days on, 3 days off? I'm happy to keep Saturdays, up to you, Mr Calder."

The man scratched at his greasy head and nodded. "I'll let you know." Then he turned and headed away down the dark sidestreet.

Sirius watched him go and then looked at the other two.

"That was easy?"

"How much is rent a week anyway? And where does the landlord live?" James asked.

"It belongs to the people who own the Laundromat. They live down the street. They usually just come and knock on my door every Monday night. £18 a week."

James and Remus nodded, and then they set off down the street.

The bar they chose was more a nightclub than a bar. They went through the door, past the burly looking man with a beard, and into the darkened, hazy room. A disco ball hung from the ceiling, and the music was fast paced and loud. It was quite full for a weeknight, with boys twirling their partners around, a few of the older ones bringing back some rock n roll moves, and coloured lights swirled on the ceiling.

Sirius grinned and launched himself into the throng of people. James and Remus looked at each other. James shrugged, and they followed Sirius into the crowd.

Sirius had never considered dancing to be an activity of choice before he'd come to Muggle London. He'd been to this club before, which wasn't surprising, he'd been to most of them. He'd gotten drunk, of course, hooked up with a few girls, been punched in the mouth by the guy one of them had arrived with, and then left to wander home feeling no less restless and unsatisfied than he had when he'd walked into the club.

That was fairly summative of Sirius' life really. Before James had jumped in with his hero complex, that is. He had a compulsive need, Sirius thought, to save people. Especially him. He knew that was why James had moved in, but he couldn't deny that the past week had been the best he'd had in a long time. He also knew that James had rounded up the other two in the hope it would remind Sirius he wasn't alone. He knew he wasn't alone, and he was grateful, he supposed. But it was the principal of it that got to Sirius. He didn't need to be saved.

He broke away from the dancing crowd and headed towards the bar, and found Remus and James already there. James handed him a glass of… something. "What is it?" he yelled over the music, and James yelled back, "Rum and coke!"

He took a long sip and leant back on the bar. Remus brushed his elbow as he moved to stand next to him, and Sirius nudged him back. Suddenly a shout got their attention.

"James!"

They looked up to see a tall boy they recognized from school. James' face broke out in a grin. "Barry!"

'Barry' grinned back and came up to them, and James introduced him. "Uh, Sirius, Remus, this is Barry, he's a Hufflepuff Chaser. We trained together last term. Barry, this is Sirius, and Remus."

Barry smiled, "Yeah, I've seen you around at Hogwarts. What are you all doing at a Muggle club? Are your parents Muggles too?"

"Shall we move somewhere quieter? Who are you here with?"

Barry gestured over his shoulder to where a couple were laughing with a group by the bar further along.

"That's my brother and his girlfriend. Let's move over to the corner, shall we?"

They shifted to a newly vacated booth seat in the corner, and James and Barry chatted happily, with James explaining how it was they were in London. Eventually the conversation turned to Quidditch, and since neither Remus nor Sirius played, they excused themselves and went back to the bar.

"Another drink, Moony?" Sirius asked, and Remus nodded. Then a sly smile crossed Sirius' face.
"We should do shots."

Remus looked unsure. "I- I've never done shots before. What do they do?"

Get you real drunk, real fast, Sirius thought to himself, but he said, "Nothing much different, they don't taste as good but they make you feel great."

Remus rolled his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, fine, okay."

Sirius ordered two each and then instructed Remus on how to open his throat so he could down at all at once. Remus obediently did so, and swallowed the first shot. He coughed at the raw alcohol burned his throat and Sirius laughed, downing his.

"Come on, and the next one."

"Sirius, are you trying to get me drunk?"

Sirius feigned an innocent look. "What, no, why would I do that?"

Remus didn't answer, just threw the second shot down his throat and thudded the small glass down on the bar.

Sirius slapped him on the back and did the same. Then he grabbed Remus by the sleeve and yanked him out onto the dance floor.

It didn't take long for the alcohol to hit them, and soon they were red faced and grinning like idiots, jumped and twisting and grabbing each other to stay upright in the crush of people. Eventually Remus dragged Sirius' head towards him and yelled in his ear, "Am I meant to feel like I'm going to be sick?"

Sirius laughed his head off and then took Remus by the arm and led him towards the door to the small courtyard out the back. They burst through the open door giggling and leaning on each other, and then, seeing the tables were all taken, leant on the wall of the back of the club.

"Still feel like bein' sick?" Sirius drawled, and Remus shook his head. Then winced.

"Well, now I do."

"You'll be fine. Ooh look, people leavin', le's sit over there." He took Remus' arm again and Remus let himself be dragged to a small table in the corner, and plonked down in one of the seats. The ground was swimming, and he laughed as Sirius almost missed his chair and grabbed at Remus to steady himself. He sat down, on the chair this time, but his wand stabbed him in the leg as he did so, and he almost fell out of his chair trying to pull it out of his back pocket. Finally he managed, and placed the wand on the table.

"Sirius, there's two of you," Remus slurred, and Sirius pulled a silly face, to which Remus let out a snort and then reached out to touch. His fingers grazed Sirius' cheek and Remus smiled.

"Wind'll change," he murmured. Sirius was just staring at him, so he withdrew his hand.

"Why'd you get me this drunk, Pads? I've never been this drunk, shots are bad, very veeeeeery bad."

"Nah, it's fun, this is pretty much all I did before James moved in."

Remus looked at him. "Wasn't that sad?"

"Sad? Whadya mean?"

"Weren't you lonely?"

"No, there's tonnes of people here, look?" Sirius gestured around himself at the courtyard, which was actually a little less full than when they'd come in. It was getting late, Remus thought, although he actually had no idea how long they'd been here.

"See, lots of people." Sirius sounded a little unsure now, and Remus definitely did not want a drunk, upset Sirius on his hands.

"Yeah, yeah you're right, you wouldn't have been lonely," he quickly amended. "But you missed me right?"

Sirius grinned and leant across the little table to put a hand on Remus' arm. "Course I did, Moony, I missed you a lot. Whenever I din't know how to do something, I'd think, Rem would know."

"Don' call me Rem," Remus slurred, smiling, but he put a hand up to pat Sirius' hand on his arm.

"You should come out more, Rem, I know you like bein' clever and readin' all those books but some people might think you're boring and I don't want people thinking you're boring, because you're not, you're really interesting."

"Why do you worry about what people think?" Remus asked, deciding not to take offence at the sort-of insult. He was sure Sirius hadn't meant it to be one.

Sirius was quiet, avoiding Remus' eyes. "Shut up, Moony," he finally came back with, and Remus snorted.

"You aren't half an arse, Sirius."

Sirius grinned. "Yep, full arse, that's me. But you like it."

"Y'know asking me if I like arse is a wee bit gay, Sirius," Remus teased, but Sirius' whole face shut down on itself. Remus looked at him in alarm. The world was still spinning around him and he still felt a bit sick, and he had no idea what was wrong with that sentence to make Sirius react like that. Was that because he was drunk? If he was sober, he'd know what to do. I need a sobriety charm, he thought.

Sirius had leant back in his seat, rolling his wand between his fingers. Remus knew it shouldn't be out in view of Muggles but the courtyard has basically emptied, save a few girls smoking by the door. Remus reached out a hand to Sirius, and it was left hanging uselessly in mid-air.

"What's wrong, Sirius? I'm sorry, I know you're not gay, and I'd still love you if you were, it doesn't make a difference." Sirius looked up and met Remus' gaze.

"How do you know?"

"What?"

"How do you know I'm not gay?"

"Well, are you?"

"I don't know."

Remus was definitely not expecting that answer, and he needed to sober the fuck up, preferably right now. But his brain was hazy and the chair was rocking beneath him and Sirius was looking at him with such a scared, open expression that Remus just couldn't.

He got up and dragged his chair around the table to be next to Sirius and sat down in it. Not knowing what else to say, he dropped his head onto Sirius' shoulder and sighed.

"I know. And it's okay to not know, I think. You can be gay if you want. It would sure piss off your parents." That got a huff of laughter from Sirius, and then his hand came up to stroke through Remus' hair.

"Thanks, Rem."

And this time Remus didn't tell him off for the nickname.

James had searched through the mob of dancers to find no sign of his friends, so he finished his drink and headed towards the door to the courtyard. He politely moved past the few girls standing in the doorway smoking and chatting, and then saw Sirius and Remus sitting at one of the tables. Remus' head was on Sirius' shoulder, and Sirius was stroking his hair. James smiled and went back inside.