The Replacement

The morning had dawned clear and cold, with a crispness that hinted the end of summer. A tangle of light breezes with colorful leaves and foliage pushed and pulled at the Egyptian cotton tents erected in excited chatter and whimsical notions. Whispers of the day and evening to follow were caught hold in the flowered sweepings on the grounds, the grass by the lake only moist from the hopeful and joyous weeping of those in attendance. Throughout the morning, and well on into the afternoon until the sun had begun to set, preparations were being made outside while bride and groom secluded themselves in separate rooms; waiting for dusk to fall so they may find better company than the butterflies in their insides.

As twilight began to fall, pinpoints of lights appeared around the tents and trees, fairy-lights illuminating the tranquility and murmuring anticipation of what was about to happen. Pure white chairs held a congregation of not just family, but the multitude of friends and loved-ones that James Potter and Lily Evans had touched in their lives, while those most dear attended them in their waiting rooms.

Except for one.

Sulking in the corner of the groom-chamber was the best man in his best dress robes, though they were a bit tired looking and rumpled from being thrown around the room all afternoon. He would deny that his dislike for the bowtie and hand-stitched black and crimson garment was more than his own discomfort in wearing anything but his own skin. Nobody was fool enough to contradict, though, and nobody was fool enough to believe him.

Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were there as well, giving a few last minute congratulations to their best mate and shining up his shoes or brushing off his shoulders. Peter was so excited that he was blubbering all over himself and it took Remus several shushes before he realized that he couldn't ever quiet the boy. James was gladdened that they were so happy for him, and he hugged them each in as manly a way possible before they went to go stand in their places of honor at the altar. Peter had been bouncing up and down in front of Sirius, trying to get his attention to walk out with them, but the best man was still sulking in the corner; eyes glued to the toes of his newly-shined shoes.

"Got your speech all prepared, then?" James asked, breaking the silence between them for the first time all afternoon as he turned to look at his best mate, and therefore, befittingly, his best man. "Not that you'll have to say anything until the dinner afterwards, but I thought I'd remind you. But knowing you, you'll pull something out of your arse as you're dinging the spoon against the glass" he smiled. "or maybe breaking the spoon against the glass" he added with a nervous chuckle.

As James spoke, Sirius began digging around in his cloak and pulled out the most hideous pink wig imaginable and affixed it to his head with an uncomfortably forced laugh and smile. "Thought I'd wear this as you walk down the aisle. And during the dinner. It'll bring a bit of colour out, yeah? Although it might clash horribly with Lily's red hair, I figured she might forgive me since I'm not going to be standing or sitting anywhere near her". He spoke painfully, standing up and brushing his wig girlishly as he watched himself in the mirror. "Might even do a few cartwheels as I go to my place of honour" he snorted, his eyes never leaving his own reflection unless it was to stare back at his shoes once more.

A huff of exasperation came from James then as he strode over and plucked the ugly pink thing off of Sirius' head and tossed it aside. "Will you be serious for just one moment? This is my wedding day, for Godric's sake! You're supposed to be slapping me on the back, wishing me well, something other than being a royal prat!"

"I'm always serious" came the reply, although in earnest he knew he wasn't. He never could be the kind of stoic person Remus was, or the sensitive blithering kind of man Peter had turned into. And James, what was James? James was everything. "What would you have me do? Walk out there with a jolly good smile plastered to my face and cry every time you or Lily speaks of love and devotion? You should have named Peter your best man, at least he wanted it". He didn't mean it. How does one express all the painful things to the one person who needs to hear it, at the worst time to say it all?

James' face was unreadable, but his voice was not. "What would I have you do? What do you think Alice is doing right at this instant? Do you think she's moping about in front of Lily and wishing she were anywhere else but here? There's enough of a war going on right now outside of this wedding, you don't bloody well need to bring it into this tent. I love Lily, Sirius. But she is not replacing you! If she were she'd be my bride and best man, and you wouldn't be here at all" His tone became quieter then, his eyes softened. "I need you to be here with me" James' voice wavered, and Sirius truly felt ashamed of himself. Although he'd never admit it, he had let himself grow selfish. James was no longer only his.

Turning finally to the one person he did not want to have to face, Sirius looked at James. And there was understanding. Words did not need to be exchanged again tonight, not about this. And as the guests grew impatient, restless in their seats, a man strode from the grooms tent, arm about his best mate in black and crimson. They would wait together for the love of his life. Like they always had. And as she came out, walking in a glow of happiness, love, and fairy lights, there were no ill feelings.

Sirius clapped James on the back then. And smiled.