Sunlight slowly crept into the windows of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing early the next morning. Madam Pomfrey was off tending to a first-year boy who had broken his arm in an attempt to ride a broomstick. Meanwhile James, Sirius, and Peter sat gathered near Remus's bedside, waiting for him to wake up. The three had sat there every morning after the full moon as long as they had known of his condition.

Putting it lightly, being a werewolf sucked. Remus was always covered in fresh cuts and scratches the morning after one of his transformations, and unable to remember anything that had happened during them. To the three other boys sitting there in a cold silence, the previous night just seemed like a strange, unreal dream that they wished they could forget ever happened. Peter continued to sit there puzzled at why Sirius and James-Padfoot and Prongs-the school's most admired duo-practically brothers to one another-wouldn't even look at each other.

That morning in the Hospital Wing, everything seemed so familiar-so normal. This room was practically their second dormitory. They had all kinds of memories of talking, laughing, discussing Quidditch scores, plotting pranks-just about everything you could think of, they'd done in this very room. They had even at one point nicknamed it "The Marauder Suite," because of how much time they spent there.

Everything seemed so normal. Except it wasn't.

It wasn't normal because James Potter and Sirius Black were definitely a lot of things, but they were not the type to fight with each other. Sure they wouldn't think twice before picking fights with other people, but never between themselves. They had never really fought. Of course they had gotten into spats over which Quidditch teams were better since first year. They would occasionally get into a little pranking war here and there, much to the suffering of all the other inhabitants of the Gryffindor common room. But those were always in good fun. They were never genuinely angry. Today was different.

James repeatedly rolled his eyes and stared up at the ceiling as if there was something extremely annoying up there. He began tapping his foot noisily, evidently for the sheer purpose of getting on Sirius's nerves. Sirius let out a loud sigh in response.

"You know what, Sirius?" James asked abruptly, breaking the silence. "Why don't you just get out of here?" His tone implied that it was less of a question and more of a demand. But he looked up at Sirius, expecting him to say something in protest anyway.

"Fine," he muttered instead, getting up from his seat. "I will."

He didn't even bother to look back as he walked away though the long row of beds. He was out of the Hospital Wing and in the corridors of the school before he knew it. What he didn't know was what he was going to do now. It was a Sunday, so there wouldn't be any classes. He had loads of homework to finish, but he wasn't anywhere near that desperate. He had a perfectly good method of waiting until the very last minute and pulling an all-nighter, so why would he change that up now? Maybe, he figured, he'd head to the Gryffindor common room and find some form of entertainment there.

Sirius turned a corner and went down a few staircases, realizing how weird it was to be walking the halls alone. It was funny walking around the school as a single unit, rather than alongside all his friends. He passed the painting of the Fat Lady by reciting the password (which this week was "cattywampus"). Once he reached the common room, Sirius sat down on a couch near the fireplace. The common room was nearly empty at that time of day because most students had either gone off to Hogsmeade or were sitting near the lake outside. The entire room was quiet-much too quiet for his usual liking. His eyes wandered around the room to see no other students besides a couple of first years playing a game of Wizard Chess and two fifth year girls gossiping in the corner.

Then, he spotted a copy of The Daily Prophet hanging on one of the arms of the couch. For no reason other than the fact that he had nothing better to do, he picked it up and began reading it. He read in silence for all of thirty seconds before he heard a voice call his name:

"Black? Are you reading?"

I have got to be the stupidest person ever, Lily Evans thought to herself once those four words escaped from her mouth. Out of all the people in the world I could've initiated a conversation with, I had to choose Sirius Black! Sirius happened to be her worst enemy-James Potter's-best friend, therefore making him her second worst enemy. To Lily, Sirius was arrogant. He was conceited. He was loud and obnoxious. Yes, he had matured to some extent this year and taken it down a notch when it came to hexing random people just for the sake of it. But he still refused to stop with the tormenting of Severus Snape, the boy who used to be Lily's oldest friend. Lily and Severus had slowly drifted apart over the years, but that still didn't make her any fan of Sirius's-or James's-antics.

But the thing that disgusted her the most was the fact that James was clearly interested in her. He was always asking her out to Hogsmeade or some other place as if Lily would consider. Worse, James often gave Sirius the mission of asking her out for him. And if there was one way to put Lily Evans in a terrible mood, it was that. She normally made a general effort to avoid the two.

So it was easy to see why Lily heavily regretted asking Sirius a question. She braced herself for the most sarcastic, obnoxious reply in the history of sarcastic, obnoxious replies as he opened his mouth to speak. But instead came a halfhearted:

"Yeah. Problem?"

Now this, by Sirius's standards, was lame. He probably had a mental encyclopedia of comebacks, and was highly aware that the use of the words "Yeah. Problem?" had become obsolete after second year.

"Is it that you've finally taken it upon yourself to get a life outside of tormenting others?" she inquired.

At these words, images of the previous night flashed through his mind as Sirius angrily slammed his Daily Prophet down onto the couch.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius muttered through gritted teeth.

"Forget it," Lily sighed.

"Fine then!" Sirius said lamely and in the most un-Siriuslike tone possible. "I-I'll just get back to my reading."

Lily gave him a strange stare.

"Alright, out with it!" she demanded after a moment, realizing something was definitely up. "What sort of twisted plot is this apart of?"

"None," Sirius grumbled, genuinely hoping she would go away.

"If your goal is to mess with my mind, it's not working," said Lily, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"I'm not trying to do anything!" Sirius insisted.

"Rubbish!" Lily exclaimed, positive he was lying. After all, what else could it be?

"Look, you want to know so badly?" Sirius blurted out, standing up from the couch. His voice shook slightly. "It's James and I, alright? We-things happened-more things happened-and now he won't talk to me!"

"Oh, is that all?" Lily called after him as he began to run off. "You know, it's probably for the best! You two weren't exactly having the best influences on each other in the first place!"

But by the time she finished, Sirius was already gone. His Daily Prophet lay abandoned in the middle of the couch-apparently he hadn't cared about it so much after all. Lily shrugged at his strange behavior. What in the world could have possibly happened to tear the two apart? she wondered.

Knowing them, she figured, she probably didn't want to know.

Meanwhile, Sirius headed upstairs to the dormitories, wanting to be alone for the first time he could remember. The room, of which he and his three friends had always shared, contained four beds, each with nightstands beside them and cases for their things in front of them. It was easy to tell whose bed was whose just by looking at them:

James's bed, which he never bothered to make, had a scarlet and gold-Gryffindor colors-bedspread and a poster for Puddlemere United, his favorite Quidditch team. His Nimbus 2000 was leaning against his nightstand. Everyone knew the rules when it came to that broomstick-"You get one scratch on it and there will be drastic consequences." No one ever got 'one scratch on it' so they had yet to know what those drastic consequences actually were. In fact, they probably had all mentally questioned at some point whether even James himself knew.

Sirius sat on his own bed, which was right next to James's, naturally. His bed was unmade as well and also had a scarlet and gold bedspread. Above his bed he had hung a poster for the Chudley Cannons-his favorite Quidditch team, which happened to rival Puddlemere United. How he missed the days when rival Quidditch teams were among his biggest problems. Above that poster hung a large Gryffindor banner and the thing that really set his area apart: a few smaller pictures of brightly-colored motorbikes.

Remus's bed was right across from Sirius's. His bedspread was navy blue and he was the only one of the four who regularly made an effort to keep it neat. A large pile of books that looked like it could topple down at any moment sat on his nightstand. Most of the books, which he'd claimed he had borrowed for "a bit of light reading," were extremely thick. Next to that pile was a smaller pile of parchment, plus a couple of quills and a jar of ink. Lastly, a small flag that read, 'Go Gryffindor' hung above his bed.

Peter's bed, which was across from James's and next to Remus's, was probably the messiest of them all. His dull, gray bedspread hung halfway off the bed, and one pillow was on the floor. Upon noticing the trend in scarlet and gold amongst the room, he had one day hurriedly hung a Gryffindor scarf along the top of the bed's headboard. The chest at the foot of his bed was open, with clothes and other random things hanging out of it, some of them scattered across the floor nearby.

This entire room was a reminder of the countless memories the four friends had of laughing, plotting, pillow throwing, and heatedly discussing over their five and a half years at Hogwarts.

Sirius suddenly wished things could be normal again. He wished he'd kept his mouth shut.

Suddenly, the door burst open, making Sirius jump at the noise, and in walked the three other inhabitants of the dorm.

James's expression was burning with anger, yet he didn't say a word.

Remus looked much more sad than angry, which somehow was worse. He obviously knew the story by now and was carrying the weight of all the things that could've happened the previous night. He wouldn't look at Sirius, who after looking closely realized there were tears in his eyes.

Now Peter on the other hand was a follower. He did what the majority did. Because of his lack of observational skills, he did not know in detail why everyone was mad at Sirius, nor if they had good reason to be. All he knew was that everyone was mad at Sirius and if he intended to keep his spot in one of the most admired of gangs at Hogwarts, then the logical thing to do was decide to be mad at Sirius (or at the very least, pretend he was). So alas, there he stood with crossed arms and a disapproving facial expression.

Everyone please," Sirius started before anyone else could say anything. "I-I screwed up, okay?"

"You just think you can just use me, do you?" Remus asked quietly. "Use your friend the werewolf to kill off anyone who gets on your nerves?"

"Remus-"

"Is that all you think I-?"

"Look, I'm admitting it!" Sirius said, getting louder and louder. He slammed a pillow he'd been holding down onto his bed and stood up. "I screwed up! I screwed up! I'm a reckless idiot!"

"There's such a thing as screwing up beyond repair!"

"Well, what do you want me to say then?" Sirius demanded. "What do you suggest I do about it now? Remus, I get it! I understand!"

"If you're blowing it off like this, you obviously don't!" Remus shot back.

"We didn't exactly get off scot-free, you know!" James put in pointedly. "Do you think Snape's going to stay true to his word? We were supposed to be the only ones who knew! Whatever happened to that?"

"But-"

"Just stay out of our way, Black," James spat, pushing past Sirius, who winced at the sudden use of his last name. Then, he took Remus's hand and pulled him towards the door. "Maybe you are just like the rest of your family."

Peter quickly followed the two out of the room without a second's thought. The door slammed hard as they exited.

It was only then when Sirius felt truly alone.

It was only then when he started to feel the true weight of what he had done.

Sending Snape into the Willow's passageway for a laugh was the biggest mistake he had ever made. Ever.

It was worse than the time he set his cauldron on fire "by mistake" in Potions class. It was worse than the time he had tried to fly his broomstick upside down and in the process ended up injuring his knee right before the Quidditch finals. It was worse than the time he and his friends got a month's detention for playing a massive prank on a couple of Slytherins that had backfired horribly.

This time was the worst because this time, he had hurt the people that mattered to him most. The only people in the world that he could think of to keep his morale going during those long summers at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. The only people he had ever trusted and truly cared about. And what had he done to them? What had he done when he'd made his biggest mistake to their expense? He'd scrambled out of the Hospital Wing the first chance he got.

Some Gryffindor you are, he thought to himself. Maybe you are exactly like your family. Maybe you are just another Black.

He, Sirius Black, was finally sorry.

If only he were ready to say it aloud.

Thank you to all of you so far who have recognized this story's existence and taken the time to read it. More updates will come soon, I hope. :)