James slammed the door of his dormitory and jumped onto his bed. He hit the bed frame with his leg and cringed in pain. After it subsided, James simply laid on his back, staring at the grooves in the ceiling. About ten minutes after such exciting activity, Sirius came through the door and plopped down next to James just as he did.

"Girls, who needs him, eh?" Sirius mumbled.

…After about ten minutes, James got up to open the window….

…After about another ten minutes, Sirius was asleep…

James thought about the dozens of girlfriends Sirius had gone out with. And about the dozens of girls Sirius could go out with. James didn't want dozens -- he only wanted one.

However, James had a feeling that his best friend was going through problems of his own. And he also had a feeling that those problems were represented by a certain black box holding certain Black letters. What could possibly be in that stupid box and stupid letters that could make him so sad at times? James rolled off the bed, careful not to disturb the slumbering Sirius who had currently taken up possession of most of James' bed, and went over to Sirius' part of the room.

He found it hidden in a drawer. Sirius wouldn't even know. Even if he did, they were best friends, if anyone, he should have a right to know… he fingered the hinges, trying to estimate how loud they would creak. He figured it was worth the risk.

The hinges gave only an infinitesimal 'squitch' while being opened that allowed James to exhale. Folded pieces of scrappy and pathetic looking parchment were released of their tension as they popped out like an unenthusiastic Jack-in-the-box. There must have been fifty… maybe more of them.

He picked up the ones that scattered on the floor and carried the box to the window seat.

'Dear Son,

Regulus wrote us today. He has officially dedicated himself to becoming a death eater. We hope you choose the same path for your life.'

'Dear Son,

We have succeeded in disposing of another twelve people the world does not have room for…'

James had spent so much time with Lily he could predetermine what she would say if she read this letter…

"Twelve! That's a lot of people! If each of those twelve people knew… twenty people, that means… 240 people would be effected… that's a lot of people…" she would say..

James and Lily had plenty of conversations about death.

"People don't understand what death really means, I think, James…" she had said one day in between classes, " its not like you can die, and then come back to school the next day and tell all of your friends about it. It doesn't work that way. People, even I, don't understand the magnitude of death. It's a devastating thing. Even if we are so used to, by now, seeing 'Dozens Dead!' in headlines, and we roll over it like no big deal, once you think about it, one death is a huge deal!"

"You speak of it as if you would know." He replied.

"In a way… I do…" she had said.

The next letter.

'Sirius-

the dark lord has saved us places in the world in the world for when he rules…'

' Dear son,

The dark mark could be seen for miles last night. Such a beautiful sight… too bad those we killed could not see what signified their deaths so spectacularly…'

'Dearest son,

The dark lord is gaining power by the moment. We beg your involvement…'

'Sirius-

We succeeded in brutally killing up to 47 Aurors last night…'

FOURTY- SEVEN AURORS! When was this written? When was the last time I heard from my parents?' His brain demanded things. His body demanded things. His hands moved faster than he could control. The letter said it was sent in the month of February. Long past. His eyes skimmed the letters that now skimmed the areas around him. How many of them spoke of happiness over killing people? Muggles, witches and wizards… Aurors. He couldn't read anymore.

" I knew I should've just thrown those letters away." James spun around. Sirius was sitting up rubbing his eyes as if to rub away the darkness of sleep. "But you know, I kind of like the idea of having more useless paper in one place than a history text book." James was speechless, but Sirius couldn't tell, as because he just kept on talking. "Kind of sucks, don't it? Well, it's okay I'm mostly used to it. Just have to think how much more t sucks for those who die. There are, and are going to be, way much more of them then there are of me…. how long was I sleeping for, d'ya think? They didn't have the end- of- owls party with out me, did they?" He hopped over the bed and looked out the window.

'How could he be thinking of parties?'

"Why didn't you tell me?" James blurted out. "I mean, I guess I had some vague idea, but… but Sirius we're best friends--"

" Which is why I didn't tell you!" he interrupted. He was on his knees, picking up the thrown scraps of parchment off the floor. James was doing his best to quite his breathing so as to hear every word of what Sirius was saying. "I thought maybe it would be a wee bit awkward being on such different sides of the spectrum. What with our parents wanting to kill each other and all." He had placed the box back in its hiding place and was putting on his jacket. " I mean, don't get me wrong, Prongs, I don't want to kill your parents, but I can name a bunch of psycho's who do." he turned to face his friend, and clearly saw a disturbed look on his face. " Oh, geeze, don't worry. I don't need my parents. I don't rely on them at all. I'm fine! I'm going go and help set up for the party, okay?"

And with that, he walked out the door.

James crawled back into his bed, and then into it. He stayed as the sounds of the party reached its peak, and then died away. He stayed while pretending to be asleep as Peter and Remus and at last Sirius got into bed. He stayed as they all fell asleep.

And he didn't stop staying.