Just if you didn't know, this takes place after 5th year and before 6th year, so around the time of the Willow incident. According to the Harry Potter Wiki, Sirius ran away when he was 16, and I am assuming that he turned 16 in the school year.

I also have a reference to another one of my stories, Oh, Them Four!, if you've read it see if you can find it.

Hey you whippersnapper named Peter, it's your dear friend Prongs here to invite you to spend a day with me and Padfoot! Full of fun, games, and beer!

But onto a serious note, Padfoot ran away from London about a month ago and he seems to be bad. Like depressed, angry, just plain bad. I think you should really come over here. It's halfway through July and he really isn't recovered. Please come, be here from sometime in the morning to sometime before midnight.

-James

MOONY! I know that you are probably still mad at a certain Animagus named Sirius, but I'd like to invite you over at my house, where the certain Animagus named Sirius is residing. The reason for this arrangement is that our adorable Sirius was pushed to the limit and ran away. He's not good. Please come, morning to night.

-James

Sirius waited in front of a blazing fireplace, waiting for his friends. He hoped Moony would forgive him. Snape just...needed to stop snooping. He needed Moony now. He needed Peter, too. He needed everyone. The quiet acceptance from James, the solid reasoning from Remus, the comfort from Peter. He needed his friends.

While Sirius was thinking this, his face slowly got more and more serious, a strange sight, no matter what his name was. The fire blazed green, and Remus walked through. "Padfoot, are you, are you okay?" Remus asked cautiously.

Sirius got up and hugged his friend. Not a manly hug, or a bear hug, not a famous Sirius hug, but a hug from a friend who has been through too much.

"Padfoot, bud, I'm straight," Remus said, a meek attempt at humor. It worked. Padfoot let out a huge bellow; his laugh no longer hollow.

"Prongs and Wormtail are upstairs, doing who knows what," Sirius said. The two sixteen year-olds thundered up the stairs to their two friends.

"So then, then, the-he-hen, he ate the crackers!" James said, rolling his head back and laughing a very drunken laugh. Prongs had drunk the most, with Peter coming in second. Remus tolerated his alcohol very well, so he wasn't completely wasted, but Sirius had only had one beer.

Oh, he acted like he had more, he acted drunk, but in reality he hardly had any of his beer. He thought he must say something that he shouldn't. Something that might've happened over the summer.

The next morning, a hung-over James lay with his head under his pillow. Sirius, on the other hand, had no hangover, so he used this opportunity to torture his friend. "Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty! Today is a brand new day filled with headaches!"

"How come you didn't drink last night?" James asked, squinting through the sun and ignoring the voice that told him to sleep.

"I did, just not as much as you," Sirius replied. His fake smile was returning.

"No, you didn't drink, because if you did, you wouldn't be able to stop, and you wouldn't be up."

"Are you still srunk?"

"Why didn't you drink?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Why do you have to know?"

"It's not like you, Sirius!"

James stood, practically shooting the last words. Sirius's face changed from defensive to hopeless. "Come on, I'll get you coffee, your head must be killing you," Sirius said.

"Thanks mate."

James sat back down. Hopelessness did not fit Sirius. What he would do to have the old Padfoot back, pulling pranks, running around, acting like a four year old. What he would do just to see his friend smile, and laugh, and plot. What he wouldn't do…