Sirius Black and James Potter were incredibly similar. Even on appearance alone, when the pair smiled identical mischievous grins, one could easily see how they might be mistaken for brothers. Sirius was clearly the older one, but they were close for sure.
But once people had a chance to observe them, certain behaviors were impossible to miss. Both pushed limits, were ridiculously reckless, took almost everything as a joke, were alarmingly disrespectful, loyal, brave, and both refused to lose. There was a reason that when teams were chosen, whether it be for wizard's chess, snowball fights, or Quidditch, that people demanded Sirius and James be on opposing teams. The two together were unstoppable. It was a great feat to claim victory of either of them, but no one was stupid enough to try it with the pair. Anyone who boasted to beat Sirius and James at Gobstones was instantly brushed off.

It was rare that they chose opposite sides. In any argument or sport they supported their comrade. The few occasions that they met as opponents, not teammates, never ended well. Their personalities were too intense, too explosive. To avoid a row, Sirius and James had silently agreed who had the advantage in certain areas.

James had Quidditch- but only because Sirius didn't practice, of course. It had nothing to do with James' talent.

Sirius had girls- but only because James was focused on Lily, obviously. Sirius' superior looks were irrelevant.

Wizards' chess went to James. Sirius claimed he didn't have the patience for it. The fact that James' dad had been playing with him since he was six had no weight.

Exploding Snap went to Sirius. James justified his losses by the fogging of his glasses every time they played. Bellatrix's childhood taunting of her cousin and his "slow reflexes" were apparently nonexistent.

It was arguments, however, that never truly settled. It was almost unheard of for the two to have an actual dispute. Any minor disagreement was pushed aside, deemed unworthy to interfere with their friendship immediately.

But their largest dispute went unspoken. It was left to fester and grow. Their previous "disagreements" had always been expressed, whether through words or fists. The death of Mrs. Potter had made James almost unreachable in a way, as if there was a barrier or something between them. Sirius didn't know how to push James anymore, and James seemed unwilling to force anything on anyone.

This lack of interaction was both horrendous and lucky. Because of this, it would save lives and endanger others. It would expose flaws and intentions. It would challenge all four of the Marauders. It would only reinforce the idea that James and Sirius should never sit across the table from each other, no matter the game.

She was lying on top of him, her hair splayed across his bare chest. He could feel their naked bodies touching, her sinful heat radiating under the blanket. The curtains around his bed were tightly shut, and James could tell from the lack of relaxed breathing or sudden snoring that a Silencing Charm had been cast. He could feel various clothing items under the sheets, but not enough to adequately cover both of them. Clothes had to be littering the edge of his bed. He dimly registered it was Saturday.

He looked down at Dorcas- his glasses were still on his face, oddly enough, so he could see her fine. Her face was peaceful enough, but he knew that was no indication of her sleep. He moved his arm slowly so as to not wake her and reached out beyond the scarlet curtains. The bedside table was empty, not even his wand interrupted the smooth surface of the wood. James fumbled through the drawer, until he found what he was looking for.

It was the watch his dad had given him for the Christmas, the one he had worn in that room. That was the first thought that crossed his head, or actually the first feeling that seeped through his consciousness. That familiar wave of despair and an automatic clenching of the watch. He hadn't looked at it since the day he left for Hogwarts, since he had debated about whether or not to bring it all, since he had pitched it into his bedside drawer without consideration.

The second feeling was alarm, because he realized that it was past four in the afternoon. He had slept all day, as had Dorcas, apparently, and he wondered why the Marauders had not woken him. But then he remembered that clothes must've been sprawled across the floor, and he figured it out fairly easily from there.

She shifted on top of him, and he instantly stiffened. He hadn't had that much experience with the whole "morning after" scene. The only girl he'd really been with was a friend of the family's, and there had never been that expectation with them. What was he supposed to say to her, especially when he couldn't remember a thing?

And then her eyes opened wide. She blinked, her eyelashes scraping his skin. Neither of them moved, both seeming contemplating what to say. Finally, Dorcas turned her head and looked up at him. She was biting her lip, her worried eyes waiting for him to speak.

He took his cue. "I'll get out first, 'kay? And then we can get dressed and talk."

"Right," she said, sliding her body off of his. He climbed out of the bed awkwardly, trying to cover himself as much as possible, and balance himself through a throbbing headache. He scrambled for his clothes on the floor, settling for his boxers and trousers, not bothering to compare the two white shirts on the floor. He closed the door to the bathroom behind him, hearing his bed creak slightly as Dorcas no doubt looked for her own clothes. Pulling his boxers on, he turned towards the mirror and sighed.

There was a large bruise on his side, beginning just above his ribs and ending right below his hip. It was too large for him to have knocked into something; he reckoned he had probably been tackled to the floor sometime last night. He leaned in front of the mirror, examining his face. His lip was healing nicely, mostly the work of Dorcas' amateur spell work as far he could remember. There was a large cut on the back of his shoulder, not quite a gash but more than a scrape, obviously the effect of a curse from its curved, graceful nature. But on his shoulder blade there were four scratches, not deep enough to draw blood, but deep enough to remain hours later... fingernails.

Fuck.

He had been so tossed last night, he had to have been. He had shagged Dorcas Meadowes, Lily's best mate, not to mention Sirius'... whatever she was. He doubted Sirius would care, he'd never really cared about her anyway. Sirius was constantly on about how easy she was to bang, but now James knew just how easy she was. But he could bet that any chance he had had with Lily would be out the window once she found out about this.

Did he even care? He didn't want to be with Lily anyway, right? That shock up his hand could've been a fluke. And Lily had a boyfriend, she was clearly off limits. It wasn't as if he was reserved for her or something, he could still be with girls if he wanted to. She wasn't with him, hell, she didn't even like him. So, he shouldn't feel guilty on that end.

Right?

He glanced at the door, wondering if Dorcas dressed yet. Wishing he'd brought his shirt with him into the bathroom, James decided to chance it. He opened the door slowly, giving her plenty of time to tell him to back up. When he heard no objection, he entered the room with what he hoped was a casual expression.

It seemed that Dorcas didn't really give a Knut about modesty, because she was still buttoning up her shirt facing him, giving him a nice view of her lace bra. She must've known that he was staring at her, she was Dorcas Meadowes with a pair of C's. But her face only wore the expression that he hoped he was wearing, a resigned, almost bored look.

Which meant she was probably as freaked out as he was.

They stood in silence for a moment as James ruffled his hair and she fixed her last button with deliberate slowness. She sighed, and James nodded to himself before deciding to man up already.

"I'm sorry-"

"No, really, I was just as much a part of-"

"I should've stopped it, but I was just-"

"-so drunk, I know, I was the one who took advantage of you-"

"Don't be daft, it's my fault-"

"No, this whole fiasco is my doing. Not that it was a bad, you were actually brilliant for being so tossed..."

"Dorcas, you can't blame- Wait, I was brilliant?"

She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Yeah, you were okay. But I hardly think that's going to matter to Sirius or Lily."

The smile rolled off his face. "I don't think Padfoot is going to care all too much, honestly," he said without thinking.

Dorcas looked at the ground, biting her lip. "No, I guess not," she conceded, her voice bitter and hurt. "In that case, Lily doesn't have to know, if you don't want me to tell her. And you can tell Sirius, really, I don't give a damn what he thinks about me anyway, not after last night, not after Marlene McKinnon..."

"What about Marlene?" James asked.

She stared at him expectantly for a moment, and then her expression cleared. "Oh, right, I'm sure you don't remember... I walked in on them. Sirius and Marlene. That's why I was up so late, I was... thinking. And I know he's your best mate and all, but... he's a bastard, he didn't even break up with me first, you know? And then he has the nerve to tell me it's over, like I was an idiot for not seeing this coming! Like I was supposed to expect this, as if I have no right to be angry at all-" She stopped suddenly, as the door opened.

"Finally, Prongs, we were beginning to wonder if you were ever gonna wake up... Oh, hey, Dorcas. Have fun last night?" Sirius stepped into the room, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Dorcas looked away from him, apparently ignoring him as she slipped on her shoes. But at his last remark, she froze, her mouth dropping in astonishment.

"Yes," she responded, composing herself. "Yes, I did, Sirius, since I was newly single, I could do things like that, couldn't I? But thanks for your concern, really, I enjoyed myself very much. More than I ever did with you, anyway."

"Hey! That was below the belt!" Sirius objected, clearly pleased with his pun. "Stop being such a bitch because you didn't realize it was over. I told you last night, I'm sorry I didn't spell it out for you, but I thought I was being perfectly clear by not hanging out with you... at all."

It was the sort of comment that James knew Sirius didn't mean as cruel as it sounded, but, for the first time in James' memory, he felt himself siding against his best mate. Dorcas wiped just below her eye, flicking her fingers like some invisible fleck of dirt had been bugging her, but James recognized the beginnings of tears. He opened his mouth to say something, but Dorcas interrupted him.

"Go fuck yourself, Black!"

"I don't have to, Dorcas, I've got-"

But James knew what was coming next, knew what was about to come out of his friend's mouth, so he called over him, "Maybe you should just leave, Dorcas."
She nodded, leaving the room quickly and blinking rapidly. As soon as she closed the door, Sirius rolled his eyes.

"God, she's ridiculous. I can't believe she didn't get we were over, you know? It's not like I was sending mixed signals, I mean, I was avoiding her. And Marlene and I weren't exactly secretive, you know, Prongs?"

"Well, it's not like you told her, mate. You could've talked to her, told her straight up. You can hardly blame her for being pissed," James said, knowing that, despite his words, he'd be publicly defending Sirius tomorrow. They were best mates, and you didn't stop being loyal to your best mate just because they were morons.

Sirius plopped down on his bed, folding his arms behind his head. "You're just saying that because she said you were a better shag."

"No, really, Padfoot. I think she has a point," he continued.

"You would've done the same thing in my place," Sirius said, playing cool but James could feel the fight brim. "Would've" didn't mean if James had a girlfriend. "Would've" meant before, before when his mother was alive and he was careless and the lines between Sirius and James hadn't been so clearly defined.

"I wouldn't do that," James said, but feeling the uncertainty in his throat. He knew he could never cheat on a girl, but Sirius hadn't really cheated on Dorcas either. In Sirius' eyes, at least, they'd been broken up. But James could very easily see his past self not bothering to inform a bird, especially a bird he was just with for fun, like Dorcas was to Sirius, that they were over. And now James saw that that wasn't right at all, that it was morally wrong, that the line between him and Sirius was becoming bolder and bolder with every word spoken.

Sirius snorted in disbelief, but decided to change the subject. "When are you gonna have Quidditch practice? Troy was badgering me about it yesterday at lunch."

"Today," James declared, feeling very much like flying. "The weather's fantastic for it, anyhow."

"The team know about this?"

"No," he answered, gathering his Quidditch robes out of his trunk.

"Hmmm. Explains why they were so chipper today at breakfast," he said, looking out the window as the rain lashed at the glass with an unexplained ferocity.

The team hit the soft ground with even softer legs; they'd been flying for hours, but it was the "warm-up" that had truly exhausted them. Push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, all the other ups. And laps, a seemingly endless demand of laps. But as the team grumbled, they had to agree- James had pushed them, which meant he was coming back to them. Even if it was slowly, even if he had pushed them much harder than they could ever recall. Emmeline Vance said he was probably using them as a way to channel his grief. Lizzy Bennet confessed that was better than bar fights.

It had stopped raining hours ago, but the cold dampness still hung in the air. James slung his broom behind his shoulders, in no hurry to get to the changing rooms. The longer he was out here, the longer he could still focus on Quidditch. His whole day had been full of distractions- Dorcas, then Sirius, and now Quidditch. He didn't want to know what would happen if he stopped. Right now, his mind was busy, barred from contemplating grief.

But as the rest of the team walked ahead to the comforts of a warm shower, another distraction came in his path. Lizzy Bennet stayed behind with him, her own broom held at her side. James would wonder if she was just another Witch Weekly girl, but she had been flirting with him long before Christmas Holiday.

"You're a really great Captain, James," she said, grinning. "I think that you drive everybody really well. Even Troy listens to you, that's something."

James smiled. "Thanks, Lizzy." He'd heard this before.

"And Emmeline- she wasn't even late to practice today." At least that was new. But he had a feeling that had less to do with him as a Captain and more to do with the fact that he hadn't had practice in over a month.

"Yeah. Bloody shocker."

"And I- I don't think I've ever seen the moon that big before, have you?"

James looked up, his heart dropping. The full moon shone upon them, reflecting clearly in James' glasses. It was dark, but not dark enough that Remus changed yet. They weren't in any immediate danger, but, damnit, he'd forgotten all about the full moon. Moony would be traveling to the Whomping Willow any minute now with the matron, and he as well as the rest of the Marauders should've already been on their way.

"No, I don't think I have either," he replied naturally. "Hey, could you do me a favor? Tell the team they did a great job today, that we won't have practice until next week. Oh, and take my broom to the shed, will you? Be careful with it. I'm gonna head up early, I'll shower in the dorm."

"Okay, no problem, James. Bye," she said as she took his broom from him. He nodded in thanks and took off towards the castle.

He saw a pair crossing the grounds; one of them was clearly Remus. James ran the long way around, using bushes for cover. It would only be awkward as Remus fumbled for some fake excuse for the sake of the matron. Besides, from the way that Remus kept glancing over his shoulder, James could tell that the other Marauders weren't at the Willow yet either, and he was waiting for the Entrance Hall door to inexplicably open for an invisible force.

James entered the castle, noticing the rapidly darkening skyline. He didn't have much time. The corridors were mostly deserted, only a few stragglers who were heading up to their common rooms after a late dinner, but curfew was in place for all those under fifth year. He took several secret passageways, only being spotted by Nearly Headless Nick - "Mr. Potter, Claire Davens was just looking for you"- and McGonagoll- "Potter! You haven't been in my class for a week! We need to talk!" Both were brushed off, though he did reluctantly agree to meet with her on Tuesday.

"Fire crabs," James said loudly as he approached the Fat Lady. She swung open for him to reveal a packed common room, with Sirius and Peter nowhere to be seen. Dorcas was sitting by the fire with Lily Evans and Alice Logan, but she didn't look particularly upset, so Sirius hadn't been there recently at any rate. James checked the boys' dorms, but nobody was up there except Frank Longbottom and Gideon Prewett. While Gideon was in the bathroom, and Frank ran downstairs as soon as James mentioned Alice was in the Common Room, James checked his trunk. Right there at the bottom was the Invisibility Cloak, so they hadn't left yet. If only they'd finished the Map...

"Argh!"

He jolted, turning and closing the trunk in the same motion. They were laughing behind him, Sirius his usual bark and Peter's a low giggle. James rolled his eyes, ashamed at his own jumpiness. "Ha ha, very funny," he said sarcastically, standing up.

"You'd laugh too, Prongs, if you saw your face! Jesus, you'd think you were expecting a Death Eater or something," Peter pointed out, lounging at the foot of Remus' bed.

"Come on, Prongs, Death Eaters don't just walk around here," Sirius joked. "This isn't the Slytherin dorm." He made his way over to the window, popping it open so he could lean his head out. "Speaking of Slytherins... well, since you haven't been up to pranking lately, Prongs, I did one for you."

James joined him at the window, staring at the empty grounds. "I don't see anything."

"Well, it hasn't started yet, dolt," Sirius said obviously. "He'll be out in a minute."

"We don't have time to sit here and wait, we have to get to Moony," Peter advised, though trying to see out the window anyways.

Sirius waved it off. "Moony will be fine for a little while. Besides, I have to make sure that he goes through with it, and I can only do it outside the Shack."

"He?" James asked.

"Snivellus," Sirius answered, again as if it was a stupid question.

"Mate, we really should-"

"Shhh! There he is!"

A figure came out of the castle, running across the grounds and looking nervously over his shoulder. Despite the moonlight, he couldn't see who it was clearly this far away. The figure hit a dark patch where none of them could see anything, before emerging behind a bush, clearly heading in the direction of...

"The Willow?" James asked, perplexed. "Who did you find that was dumb enough to go near the Willow in the dark?"

"Snivellus," Sirius answered, the grin apparent both on his face and in his voice.

"What?" Peter said, and James understood the confusion in his tone. As much as he loathed Snape, he knew that he wasn't an idiot, that he was actually quite smart. And, regardless of Snape's intelligence, even first years knew by this time of the year that the Whomping Willow was violent. Snape had been here for six years, surely he knew of the tree's reputation.

"I'm going to get him. What a fucking wanker," James said, taking off to the door, but Sirius grabbed his shoulder.

"No, Prongs, you don't get it. I baited him, the idiot's gonna meet the real Moony tonight." He laughed slightly, turning back the window. "Let's see if he's such a bother once he's seen a real werewolf. I can't wait to see his face tomorrow, that bastard's gonna get what coming to him- Whoa, where you going?"

But James couldn't hear him. His ears had stopped listening as soon as he said that Snape was going to see a real werewolf, as soon as his mind had put together the puzzle pieces. He didn't remember opening the door or taking the stairs four at a time, he didn't remember pushing people wildly out of his way, practically bursting through the portrait hole, or which passageway he took to get to the lower floors so fast. What he did remember was glancing out the window as he flew down the Grand Staircase and seeing the Willow freeze.

And then he was running again, sprinting faster than he ever had in his life. He couldn't feel his body's exhausted protests as he moved his legs up again and again, as his arms pumped faster yet. He bounded down the stairs in front of the entrance, his knees numb to the impact radiating up. He did not hear Sirius or Peter scream at him from the Tower, but he could hear the blood rushing in his ears.

The Willow was moving again, its branches thrashing wildly. He didn't know how he made it through the sea of heavy limbs, an impossible task, but he couldn't comprehend anything except that this was a life in danger, a real human life that could be shattered. It didn't matter whose life or what he'd have to do to save it. Hell, if he was going to die saving Snape-

The thought of death chilled him, he couldn't deny it, but it didn't slow his frantic pace through the tunnel. It didn't decrease his motivation, didn't cool his blood. Nothing could stop him, thought James as he came to the hole in the Shrieking Shack, pulling out his wand. Nothing, because there was a life at stake, and that was all that mattered.