Warning: This chapter contains excessive swearing and drunken Marauders. The good stuff.

Chapter Four - Drunken Rants

They had eventually be banished from the room by a particularly bossy Healer, who had insisted that Remus needed rest. Remus, who looked as if he had aged considerably in the last few hours, hadn't done much to deny this, and so his four friends had left the hospital with promises to return the next day. Now they were sat in the small but cosy flat that James and Lily had just bought together.

Nobody said anything for a while. They sat on the scattered cushions around the floor - the new sofa wasn't arriving until the next day - drinking the cheap wine that James had bought from the Muggle off licence and smoking the cigarettes that Sirius had drew from his pocket. Eventually Lily let out a long yawn.

"I'm going to bed," She announced.

Peter rubbed his small, watery eyes. "And I think I'll take my leave," He agreed.

Lily turned to wrap a hand around James's cheek, kissing him softly on the mouth before standing to her feet. She playfully mussed Sirius's hair as she passed him, because she knew how much he hated having his hair messed up, and smiled at Peter before wandering off down the hall. Peter shook hands with James and Sirius before Disapparating with a pop.

"I'll leave if you want to go bed, too," Sirius offered. James shook his head.

"Lets finish this bottle first. Seems a shame to waste it," He said.

"A shame? It tastes like Goblin piss," Sirius said.

The two of them laughed as James sloppily poured out two more glasses. They sat in the comfortable silence that was only possible to enjoy once you had been close friends with somebody for a long amount of time. Sirius stared in to his wine glass, brow furrowed as he contemplated. He was wondering if to tell James about Remus's first attack. He knew that Remus had been dead against it, but surely circumstances were different now that it had happened again?

"Prongs I need to tell you something," Sirius said eventually.

"Oh?" James said.

"Yeah..." Sirius ran a hand through his tousled hair, "This thing with Moony, it's happened before."

"What do you mean?" James said, narrowing his eyes.

"He came to me about four nights ago, said he'd been jumped. He was in a right state. Obviously not as bad as he is now, but... Anyway he promised me not to say anything, so I didn't. But now it seems right that you know, too," Sirius explained.

James nodded seriously. "No, you're right. The more who know the better. We need to stop this happening again," He agreed.

"I've asked him to stay with me for a while," Sirius said.

"Yeah, that's probably the best idea," James sighed.

"Lily was right," Sirius said as an afterthought, "It is a horrible thing to have happened. Really fucking horrible. Who would want to hurt our kind, gentle, frail, bloody lovely Moony?"

James was used to the emotional rants that often didn't make sense that Sirius often delved in to when drunk. So he just nodded. "Yeah, you're absolutely right," He mumbled, closing one eye and squinting down the wine bottle to see how much was left swimming inside.

"They never would have done it if they knew what a bloody fantastic person he is. What a fucking gem of a man our boy is," Sirius went on, "And I'm proud to be his friend."

"Me too, Pads," James said. There were a few dregs left, if he just shook the bottle hard enough he'd get them.

"Oh fuck it," Sirius muttered, letting his empty wine glass clatter to the floor where it rolled across the room and came to a stop by the book case, "Fuck this. I'm going home."

James was also used to the unceremonious and sudden departures Sirius made when drunk. It wasn't uncommon for him to just Disapparate in the middle of a sentence without any warning or explanation. If Sirius wanted to go, he just went. He gave James a shaky salute before Disapparating on the spot. James shook his head.

"My friends are fucking loonies," He muttered to himself as he got to his feet. His legs felt like jelly. He could actually see better without his glasses on. Maybe, if he chose the right words when he got in to bed, he'd get a shag. With this hopeful thought in mind, James stumbled off to his bedroom, whistling a cheerful tune, all worries for the moment gone.

Because, really, weren't they all too young for this shit?