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Hello again! These drabbles aren't going to be in chronological order. I'm just sort of writing them as I think of the concepts. As ever, if you have any suggestions, feel free to PM me on here or on A03, I go by the same pen name on both. This is my May drabble (I know... I'm late... I was hibernating and forgot to set my alarm). I hope you like it! (I would say enjoy but it's a bit sad for that? Maybe? Hopefully?) Anyway, have a nice day!

SNR

- October 31st 1982 -

Sirius sat at the kitchen table, a stack of thick, wide books with laminated pages set out before him.

The clock on the wall read 4:30; the darkness tinged by the light of dawn confirming that this was indeed the early hours of the morning. Likewise, the dark circles under his eyes (perfectly lined with eyeliner as usual) suggested that sleep had not been forthcoming.

That he had not been to sleep since the previous evening was not down to the presence of the small toddler (otherwise known as Harry Potter) as it had been many times throughout the previous year. This time his deprivation was down to the date and what that date signified.

Today was the one year anniversary of the death of two of the nicest people he'd ever known.

The past year had been tough, there had been no way to get around that. All of them had grieved. All of them had begged a higher power to bring them back.

It hadn't worked, Sirius thought bitterly. Begging for them to come back hadn't worked, nor had grieving.

The emotions that had plagued the three of them a year ago remained in Sirius' chest, just as intense as they had been the previous year. They were so powerful and all-consuming that he was struggling to separate them out.

Sadness was the predominant feeling. Hot on its heels though, was anger. Anger that they had only had 3 years to actually live their lives free of the boundaries of childhood and schooling. Anger that life had been snatched from them, from him. Rage that someone who they had trusted with their lives, and with Harry's life, someone they'd grown up with and thought of as a friend - had betrayed them. And anger with himself for even suggesting that they switch to Peter.

Today was the one year anniversary of the day he'd as good as murdered his best friends.

One of his hands reached for the bottle that sat on the table in front of him, the other lingered on the pages of the photo albums in front of him. The pad of his thumb brushed delicately over his friends' frozen faces. He grasped the neck of the bottle and tilted his head back. The amber liquid flowed over his tongue, burning away the lingering remains of toothpaste from where he had brushed his teeth 5 hours ago.

His fingers slowly traced the laughing faces staring out at him - the photos occupants oblivious to the betrayal Sirius would one day enable.

His cheeks dampened, aching sadness masked by a deep self-loathing.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so sorry. I never meant for either of you to die. I never wanted that. You were my family - the only people aside from Remus who actually give a fuck… gave a fuck. I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

A hand gently brushed against his shoulder. Sirius flinched. It was impossible for Remus to not have heard his confession. Now Remus would know, and he would hate him. Not that he deserved anything else.

Arm's encircled him from behind. Sirius froze.

"No! No! What are you doing? You should hate me! I'm the reason they're not here. I'm the reason Harry has no parents, I'm the reason James and Lily are dead…"

The arms only squeezed him slightly before releasing him. Remus sat down opposite him.

"You're not. Peter is, Voldemort is. Did you knowingly... willingly even, hand over James and Lily's location to the person they were hiding from?"

"I as good as handed them over," Sirius whispered.

"No you didn't, Pads. You told James and Lily to place their loyalty in someone everyone on the light side thought was loyal. You told them to place their loyalty in a friend. You can't be faulted for that, Pads, you didn't know. None of us knew. As for handing them over to Voldemort. That is on Peter alone. That was his decision. Not yours, not mine - his."

"But I should have known, Moony, I should have known. Hell, we all should have. If he was our friend we should have been keeping a close enough eye on him to see what was happening. We should have helped him. We should have shown him that there was another option."

Remus sighed quietly.

"Yes, Pads, we should've."

Silence gained a foothold as the two men flipped slowly through the photo albums, deep in the memories they contained. The Firewhiskey traded between them as they reminisced.

The sound of young feet on the stairs brought them out of their trance.

Sirius turned around just in time to catch a running toddler.

"Oof!" he exclaimed, a smile pushing the sadness back.

Harry looked up at him with confusion.

"Sirius…" Remus gestured to his face.

"Oh," Sirius dabbed his cheek with his fingers, sure enough, they came away slightly black, "Come on then, Prongslet, let's get this off then. Moony can get breakfast."

The two walked out of the room, the toddler firmly clutched to Sirius' chest.

Remus quickly gathered up the photobooks. It wouldn't do for them to be spoilt in the inevitable mess that breakfast would become. They would show them to Harry. Of course, it would be many years before he actually understood the significance of what he'd lost a year ago. Of what they'd all lost. His fingers lingered unwittingly on the same place Sirius' had lingered before.

"I'm sorry..."

The year of recuperation and adjusting to their new situation was over. It was time to start planning their lives again.

Today was the day they started living again.