Author's Note: I think dramatic irony is an element of its own in stories about the Marauders. It falls into your lap.

I apologize on Sirius's behalf for his atrocious language. His mother would be ashamed. He, of course, would delight in his mother's shame, but that's a different problem.

Too much dialogue in this chapter; not enough shazam.

And sorry about the not updating… forever. I actually wrote this right on the heels of Sixteen and just didn't get around to editing for a long while.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Schmaltzy

The voices woke Remus.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. He's—he's—is he—?"

Shaking, unsure fingers probed at his neck. He wanted to flinch away—he had a bruise there—but he couldn't find the strength.

"No—no, he's got a pulse."

"He's breathing—see?"

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, I'm going to fucking kill—"

"Sirius, calm down for a second!"

"Fuck you, James Potter! I will not fucking calm down! Are you fucking insane? Am I the only person seeing this? Am I the only one who's going to fucking destroy the person responsible?"

"Let's just get him to Pomfrey first, all right? She'll take care of him."

"Fuck you, James. We're supposed to take care of him. And we fucking failed."

"Will you stop saying that?"

"Saying what? 'Fuck'? Well, la-dee-fucking-da, James. Do I fucking offend you? Is it too fucking rough for your fucking virgin ears?"

"Guys, stop it. Knock it off."

"Go fuck yourself, Pettigrew."

"Sirius, he's right; we're acting like children—"

"No, James, you are acting like a child. You are acting like a fucking three-year-old ready to go cower under your bed and tremble at the very idea that you might be next."

"I am not! I'm not a coward!"

"Guys—"

"Oh-ho, struck a nerve, have I? You pissing your pants at the thought, Potter?"

"I'm not!"

"Guys—"

"Go tell it to your fucking mommy, James. Maybe she'll read you a bedtime story and tell you it'll all be okay."

"You asshole—"

"GUYS!"

There was silence for a moment. Remus summoned his last reserves of energy and lifted his eyelids. He discovered Peter staring down at him. A nervous smile crossed the round face partially silhouetted by the dim light above. With the blurriness of Remus's vision, it almost looked like Peter had a halo.

"Hey, Remus," Peter whispered. "You don't look so good."

Remus tried to focus on Peter's face, felt his body protest, and closed his eyes again. More of the liquid on the floor seeped into his hair. It was cold now. Everything felt very cold.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Remus felt like he'd let his eyes slip shut for a moment, but when he forced them open again, he was lying in the Hospital Wing, and the pale, unmistakable light of morning was darting through the window and creeping across the floor. Though his neck was none too happy about it, he turned his head, and there, to his right, sat Sirius, Peter, and James, like a panel of judges.

But that a panel of judges wouldn't lean forward in frantic unison when they saw that he was awake.

"How is it?" Peter asked nervously.

"How is what?" Remus's voice sounded raspy and faint, even to his own ears. "My dignity, or my corporeal form?"

The three other boys stared at him for a moment.

"Only you, Remus Lupin," Sirius decided.

Remus managed a tremulous smile. It kind of hurt.

"Mister Black, you will not cause trouble in my ward." Pomfrey bustled over and folded her arms across her chest, fixing him with a stern look.

"I didn't do anything!" Sirius protested.

"Yet," Peter added helpfully.

Remus cracked another smile, a stronger one this time.

Pomfrey's hands fluttered. "Stop it! Don't unsettle him!" Before any further protestations of their innocence could be made, she moved to Remus's bedside and began fussing unnecessarily with his sheets. "I fixed your broken rib," she announced, "and closed up the worst of the little cuts and things. The bruises, I'm afraid, will have to heal on their own."

"What bruises?" Remus made the mistake of asking.

James snatched up the mirror lying on the bedside table and shoved it at him. It was then that Remus discovered his gloriously prominent black eye and its contusion cousin along the right side of his jaw.

"Oh," he said dully. "Those bruises."

"I think you may have gotten a bit of a concussion, too, poor dear," Pomfrey noted, patting his shoulder in a sympathetic sort of way.

"That would explain the sudden sense of humor," Sirius commented.

James put on a strained, watered-down version of the usual carefree grin. "I didn't know concussions could do that," he replied.

Sirius shrugged. "Sure. They can do all kinds of things. You probably got dropped on your head as a baby, and that's why you're a git."

James made a show of letting his jaw drop. "Are you—" he paused for ideal dramatic effect. "—Sirius?"

"Three million, seven-hundred thousand, two hundred and fifty… one," Sirius said calmly.

"Three million, seven-hundred thousand, two hundred and fifty-one what?" James prompted.

"Times I've heard that shitty joke," Sirius responded.

"Mister Black," Pomfrey interjected in a clipped voice, "you have two choices. Either you be good, or you be off. Am I making myself clear?"

"Clearer than the space between James's ears," Sirius answered obediently.

Pomfrey frowned at him, but after smoothing Remus's coverlet one more time, she moved out of earshot to attend to some other unfortunate soul.

"How'd you find me?" Remus asked first. He'd been saving breath, and he'd decided that this inquiry was most important so far.

"The Map," Sirius explained simply. "You weren't moving. We panicked."

"You mean you did," James corrected.

Sirius ignored him. "Too late to see the—" Glancing sidelong at Pomfrey, he lowered his voice. "—bastard who did it, though." He paused, and Remus realized that he didn't want to push the question of the aggressor's identity given the fiasco after the break-in at the Three Broomsticks.

"I don't know his name," Remus told him, obviating his asking. "Average height—probably two or three inches shorter than you. A little on the heavier side. Blond hair—yellowish-blond. The color of hay. Kind of pale. Brown eyes. Small nose."

"We'll kill him," Sirius promised.

"Or," James countered, raising an eyebrow at him, "just for some variety, we'll play by the rules and get him expelled."

Remus picked at the blanket. "Why me?" he asked slowly.

The others exchanged helpless glances.

Affecting disinterest, Remus attempted at a shrug. It ached, but he supposed it was worth it. "Better me than someone without their friends close at hand," he decided. "How long 'til I get out of here?"

"She's freeing you this afternoon," James supplied.

Contentedly—or contentedly enough—Remus settled among the pillows. "Time enough for a nap," he noted.

"Most of us," Sirius remarked, "use class time for that."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

As the three of them left the Hospital Wing and started back towards the common room, Peter paused.

"I think I'm going to go get Remus some food," he announced. He considered and then grinned. "And I'm going to go get me some food, too. Anyone up for coming along?"

"No, thanks" was the consensus.

James shoved his hands into his pockets and kicked a little at the carpet as he and Sirius strolled down the corridor. This was all so… he didn't know what. It was too disorienting to figure out what else it was at all. The idea that someone would go after Remus—Remus Lupin, who wouldn't hurt a fly even if it was threatening him and insulting his mother—was simply disconcerting. It made him almost nauseous to think about it. On top of that, he felt almost… guilty. As if his breeding, which had never come under his control, was somehow exempting him from the terror and the danger to which people like Remus and Peter and Lily were exposed.

He squared his shoulders. If he was safe, it meant that the burden of protecting those that weren't fell on him. Pretty soon he'd find out if he was up to the challenge. Heroes always began as ordinary people, didn't they?

Lily was on her way out when he and Sirius opened the portrait. Just seeing her made James's knees go weak, but he was too busy trying to drink in every infinitesimal detail of her being to find that pathetic.

"Hey, Lily," he managed.

"Hey," she replied, sounding distracted. James wondered what was distracting her. He wondered if he was wondering too much. He wondered if that would annoy her. "How's Remus?" she wanted to know.

"He's getting out this afternoon," James reported. She looked after Remus like you would a little brother. It was adorable. Her capacity for kindness was nothing short of inspiring.

"That's good," Lily decided. She paused.

Now or never, James thought frantically. Desperately he gathered up the trailing threads of the fabric of his courage and took a deep breath. "Lily, do you by any chance want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?" he asked. It all came out in a rush, but it was decipherable enough.

A little smile lighted on her lips—the kiss of a beam of heavenly brilliance, sent for the specific purpose of imbuing her with otherworldly radiance. "Sure, James," she acquiesced. "Talk to you later. See you, Sirius." With that, she slipped out into the hallway and disappeared down it.

James was all ready for the deep, heartfelt sigh—wait for it… wait for it—when Sirius muttered, "Prick," and commenced storming up the stairs.

"Excuse me?" James said.

"You heard me," Sirius responded over his shoulder. "I called you a prick. Little statement of fact for you."

He slammed the door to the dorm behind him.

James took the steps three at a time and un-slammed it.

"What's your problem?" James demanded.

"I don't have a problem," Sirius shot back.

"Oh, like hell you don't," James retorted. "It's Lily, isn't it? What, you want her too, now? Is that it? Everything else female that moves in this school isn't enough? You've got to have the one girl I've ever liked, too?"

Sirius's lip curled derisively. "Don't be an ass, James."

James threw his hands in the air. "So tell me what the hell's wrong, and I don't have to be!"

"You are!" Sirius burst out, shouting now. "You're wrong, James fucking Potter! Go ahead and marry Lily fucking Evans! I know it's what you're dreaming of! Go ahead, and we'll just sit here twiddling our thumbs and remembering the good old days when we had a friend instead of an idiot!"

Incredulously James stared at him. "Wait," he said. "Wait one damn minute."

"For what?" Sirius spat. "So you can go consult Lily on what to say next? Oh, she's so fucking funny, isn't she? So fucking witty. Maybe you should worship her a little fucking more, James, I don't think she's noticed yet."

"Will you shut up?" James interrupted. "What are you telling me, that you think I'll neglect you all because of Lily?"

"Think that you will?" Sirius repeated. He barked out a short, humorless laugh that felt like a slap in the face. "No, James Potter, I think you already have and will continue."

"You're delusional!" James cried. "You are absolutely delusional!"

"She's a fucking girl, James!" Sirius howled. "She's a fucking girl who's reduced you to this sniveling pile of shit you are now! You know what? Go. Just get the hell out of here. Don't waste my time. It's clear enough that you put her first. And, hey, that's all right. It's not like we have fucking feelings or anything. It's not like we've spent six fucking years cultivating a friendship that you're willing to throw away over that know-it-all, ass-kissing little bitch. It's not like—"

"I should kill you for that," James snarled.

"So kill me!" Sirius laughed that awful laugh again. There was something horrible in it, something wounded and not quite sane. "You know the spell. Just wave your little wand and take out your competition, simple as that."

"Why are you taking it this way?" James persisted. "Why can't you just let her in a little? What's so wrong with her? She wouldn't be a problem—"

"She already is a problem, don't you get it?" Sirius's eyes flashed. There was danger there—danger for James, and danger for Sirius himself. "We're stupid boys. We do stupid boy shit. We talk about stupid boy stuff. And you are letting her get in the way of us, and I'm not going to fucking take that shit, James Potter."

"Then don't take it!" James hurled back. "Either you accept everything about me, or you get the hell out of my life! Your choice!"

Before he could move, Sirius had snatched his lapels in both fists and jerked him forward. "And where exactly am I going to go, James?" he hissed. In his best friend's blazing eyes, James could see his own reflection. His face was pale, his cheeks were pink, and his mouth was set in a thin, hard line. "Where," Sirius went on, "am I going to go, and who exactly am I going to lean on?" Nothing but blatant disgust in his expression, Sirius let go at once and gave him a bodily shove. Even as James stumbled and caught himself, Sirius went on, his hands over his face dulling the edge of his voice. "Don't you get it, you fucking idiot? Don't you understand? You are the only thing I've ever been able to rely on. The only thing that's stayed the same, and the only thing that's always been there when I needed it. And now you're letting this girl—" Sirius had reached the window; he slammed a fist against it, and the pane trembled. "—twist you up and turn you around and knock you down, and I'm without my anchor." He spun on his heel again, his eyes alight with that mad silver fire. "Is that selfish, James? Is it selfish to want to depend on something? Is it selfish to want to keep the pieces of my life glued together?" He crumpled onto the floor against his bed and hid his face again. "Jesus Christ, James. Jesus Christ."

Drawing in a deep breath, James sat down next to him. After a moment of silence, he maneuvered his arm around Sirius's shoulders. The recipient of the gesture didn't move.

"Sirius," James said slowly, "no one, girl or otherwise, is ever going to replace you. Got it?"

"Fucking whatever," Sirius mumbled.

"No, not 'whatever.' I mean it. You're my best friend, like you said. You're not competing with Lily for that position. You're not competing with anyone. It's yours, for life. Forever. No one's going to replace you. No one's going to take it away from you. It's yours as long as you want it."

There was a gasping sort of noise from behind Sirius's hands, and James realized with a start that it was a sob.

"What?" he pressed, horrified now.

"You're so f-fucking s-s-schmaltzy," Sirius said.

James sighed—happily.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Severus Snape was lying silently on top of his covers, fully-clothed, with his hands folded on his stomach. He was watching the underside of the canopy on his bed. It wasn't doing anything, but, then, he didn't exactly expect it to break out into a jig.

A shadow fell over him. Douglas Reid said in that rumbling voice of his, "It's time."

Severus got to his feet, smoothed his robes, took his wand in his hand, and followed.