Snow had fallen thickly over the ground and branches of trees in winter's last hurrah before the onset of spring. When the wind blew, white puffs shook loose and dropped to the ground out of the trees. The sky was a mix of shades of gray clouds and electric blue sky. But Sirius and James were missing the seemingly magical mid-morning scenery, sleeping top to toe on a bare mattress with only a manky duvet covering them. And in reality, their position was closer to a pile of spaghetti, with their feet in each other's faces and sides pressed together due to lack of space. The common excuse was being unable to afford two beds, though both young men secretly knew that wasn't entirely true.

The first year of the rest of their adult lives would be drawing to a close that spring. Of course, the first thing the two fresh-faced graduates did was rent a flat, eager for independence and sporting matching haughty attitudes of being 'more mature than the average eighteen-year-old'. With bumbling success, they were surviving on their own, though Sirius had first assumed the refrigerator was a fancy closet and James had regrettably blown up the toilet twice, much to the chagrin and utter bafflement of their Muggle landlord. Still, the two best friends were happy. The world was their oyster.

Sirius woke first, as per usual, by James's pinky toe in his nose, as the other boy rolled over to hug him around the knees in his sleep. He'd always assumed James was dreaming of Lily Evans, lean and fiery, at least until the first time he unconsciously mumbled something that sounded a bit more like it began with S than L. Forcibly removing the offending foot from his face, Sirius tossed his friend's legs aside and sat up to work on his arms. At this point, James usually work up and did the rest of the work for him, or on rare occasions when he was feeling obnoxious, put his full weight on top of his bedmate.

On that particular morning, James did neither, but frowned in his sleep, and it took a full five minutes to rouse him. "Hey…Prongs…" A sharp poke to the temple. "Get your ass off me. Seriously. Both my legs are asleep."

James grunted and finally peeled his eyes open, squinting at Sirius in the cheerful morning light. "Peter is a fucking loon," he slurred, the faintest hint of panic in his tone.

"What?"

Rubbing his eyes with the heel of one hand, James felt around for his glasses, slightly more alert. "What?"

"You said something about Peter being crazy." Sirius reminded him, perplexed. Undoubtedly an unusual way to wake up.

There was a barely noticeable pause in James's search, and he chewed on the inside of his cheek. The creaking gears in his head were almost audible, trying to record the snatches of a vision that was quickly receding into a blank blur. "You don't believe in any of that dream divination crap, do you?"

"Not really." Sirius wiggled his toes and bounced his legs, trying to regain some circulation. "Why?"

Another pause while James made his decision to continue or not. He closed his eyes again briefly before perching the crooked glasses on this nose. They had gotten bent during an impromptu wrestling match three days ago. "Nothing, don't worry about it."

Sirius gazed at him, unsure of how to interpret the answer, but feeling the brief snag of worry in the pit of his stomach. Rather than dwell on a nameless fear, he leaned on his friend's back and wrapped both arms around his neck. "Whatever. Bacon and eggs? I feel like cooking something worth eating."

Laughing, James leaned back onto him and wrinkled his nose. Part of him wished he could say what was on his mind, and in his heart, shaken inside by the dream he couldn't quite remember. "God help us."