Author's Note: Maria here. I suck.

Disclaimer: We don't own them because I suck. Hah.

"You're late, Pettigrew."

"S-sorry. It's just that—well, you see, I got caught up with—I was—I'm sorry. Sorry."

"Stop prattling, you idiot. I see that remembering your engagements is too much to expect of you."

"I didn't mean to—I didn't mean to forget, I just—"

"Of course you didn't mean to. You aim to please after all, isn't that right?"

"Yes. Yes."

"Last we met, you expressed explicit interest in our cause. However, there is still the issue of your loyalties to address."

He said nothing, swallowed hard.

"Where do your loyalties lie, Pettigrew?"

His breathing became shallow and his palms clammy with sweat.

"With Potter?"

James. He inhaled deeply. "No. Not him."

"The blood traitor?"

He shook his head vehemently. "Not Si—not Black. Not Lu-Lupin either."

"I remain unconvinced, Pettigrew."

He gaped openly before launching into a desperate tirade. "But it's true! It's true! I'm not lying! Ja—I mean, Potter—Potter doesn't—doesn't—mean anything to me. None of them do! I am completely devoted—completely devoted t-to the purist cause. To purity!" His voice was hysterical. "No more f-f-filthy mudbloods or—or blood traitors! And—and—"

"But can you prove to us that your zeal is genuine?"

"Yes!"

"And that you can truly forsake your Gryffindor companions?"

"W-whatever it takes!"

"Then I suppose you are ready to take on your first task?"

"I—yes."

"It is a minor test, simple even for the likes of you. It is just to verify that you are faithful to us alone."

"I will not fail. Will not. Won't."

"Good. The Dark Lord will be pleased. Snape? The assignment, if you will."

"Moony! Oy, Moony!"

"James, your chin is bleeding."

"Quidditch," said James, as if that explained everything (and it probably did). "You know where Sirius is?"

"I thought he was with you."

"Nah. He disappeared in the middle of practice. Just thought you might've seen him, is all."

"I haven't, and Peter ran out on me too."

"Yeah? You don't think they're up to something, do you?"

"Like Peter could keep anything from you, James.

James laughed appreciatively as he clapped Remus on the shoulder. "Let's find them then. We have some trouble to get into!"

"You mean you have trouble to get into. I, on the other hand, will observe from a distance where no harm will come to me or my position as prefect."

"Whatever works for you, Moony."

"Glad you understand."

"If that's the case, you have a rather liberal definition of 'understand,' mate."

"In your case, James, my definition extends to include the clause 'to know of the meaning and implications, but to not know any better despite that.'"

"Such wit, Lupin. Such wit."

"Thank you. Now, I'd like to find Sirius before he somehow manages to level half of Hogwarts."

"Duly noted."

"And Peter too, before he finds himself trapped in some self-locking room."

"Like that time when he—"

"Yes, exactly like that time.

"Let's go then!"

"Why do we associate with these people, James?"

"Because they are most dear to us."

"That's a convenient little fact."

"It keeps me from throttling them on a daily basis."

"Sirius should be thankful then."

"He better be, or else I'll wring his neck."

"But he is most dear to you."

"Not if he keeps missing practice, he isn't."

"He's not even on the team, James."

"But I am! And he could be if he'd try out."

"That's favoritism."

"No, no. I've seen him play before. He's actually pretty decent."

"Then I suppose he can't be bothered to."

"Yeah. Lazy, insufferable bastard."

"Who is most dear to you."

"Unfortunately."

The Great Hall was strangely empty as Sirius padded silently between the student-less tables and towards the raised platform upon which the Hogwarts teaching staff sat during meals. Above him, the house banners fluttered in a late autumn breeze that brought promise of winter and snowball fights and ice-skating on the Great Lake. It also reminded him of the holidays, and his spirits plummeted as he thought of grim hallways and a Black Christmas.

But that was later, and for now, he was happy and free in Hogwarts, with his friends and without his family. Only, at the moment, he was as without-friends as he was without-family. He felt another pang when he realized that the Marauders hadn't planned anything this Halloween. James had his Captain responsibilities (and Lily, he remembered with just a touch of bitterness) and Remus and Peter weren't instigators by nature. That left only him, and it wasn't the Marauders with just Sirius and no JamesRemusPeter.

He stopped just before the staff table, eye-level with and staring at the wooden legs of empty chairs. He felt impossibly dejected, loneliness and emptiness and nothingness tugging at him like little children who say "Come play" and grin like knives.

James has always accused him of being overly emotional, and Remus has always laughed because he believes it's true.

"You're unhinged, Padfoot," said third-year Remus with a smirk.

"Doors get unhinged. I am not a door," he replied indignantly.

First-year James (pre-Lily James) shoved him playfully. "No, but you seal off your secrets like a door seals off rooms."

"I don't have secrets."

"Liar. We all do."

He climbed up onto the platform and settles himself in Dumbledore's chair.

He smiled to himself because he has never felt so out of place in his life. He was Black instead of Sirius, and Black blood hissed traitor as his hand touched the wood.

Grey eyes closed and he slept.