Okay, I apologize that this chapter took so long. I was almost finished with it, then I went to camp for two weeks, and have been busy since. So, I finished up, and here it is. I will have more notes at the end of this chapter.

The chapter's title, la fierté précède la punition, is French for "Pride precedes punishment". I took creative liberty and, for sake of the story, changed it to 'pride comes before the fall'. If you like analyzing expressions (among other things) as much as I do, you'll understand why. Anyway, I don't know if you will like my explanation, but more on that later.

Sirius Black felt trapped.

Literally, he was—James had locked him in the dormitory without a way out—but it was more complex than that. The air hung hot and heavy around him, closing in around him, making it hard to breathe. Thoughts swirled around his mind, furious and upsetting and scary and—

The dormitory was so damn empty.

There was nothing to break or to fiddle with or anything that was remotely distracting in the room. Just four beds, four dressers, and four mirrors. Nothing that could make Sirius's conscious stop screaming or that could quiet the feeling that he had messed up on a major scale.

Footsteps were thundering up the stairs. With a bang, James Potter flew through the door. His glasses were perched precariously on the tip of his nose. Sirius, perhaps for the first time, was glad to see James in a blind rage. Anger was much easier to deal with than disappointment.

"What the hell, Sirius? What the bloody hell?!" James's voice climbed a notch.

"I didn't make Snivellus go down there! He would've tricked us like that—" He knew his reaction was, well, lame.

James slammed the door shut behind him, and got up in Sirius's face. "So now you're on the same level as Snape? Putting people in danger just because you don't like them?"

"I—" Sirius was cut off, a feeble excuse dying on his lips.

"Remus could be expelled for this. Remus, who never asked for this to happen to him. Remus, who puts all his efforts into doing well because he considers himself lucky to be coming to this school!" James's voice rose to yell. "Everyone might know about his lycanthropy by morning! All of what he has could be lost, just because you can't control yourself!"

Sirius saw James's angry hazel eyes and the fist that was coming up. The punch hit his jaw, and he stumbled back, and tripped over something.

His friend glared down at him. "How're you feeling now? Not so happy since you got caught for it?"

Slowly, Sirius climbed to his feet. He wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth and asked, "You think that this is easy for me? Do you honestly think that I'm enjoying this? Well, think again. If I had known that Snape would have gone down into the tunnel, I never would have said anything."

"But he did go! I don't give a damn if you were under the Imperious Curse when you did it! The thing is, you did do it, and Snape was almost killed!" James's voice cracked, the underlying emotion breaking through. It made it so much harder for Sirius to say:

"Snape deserved it! He was slinking around, trying to get evidence that Remus was a werewolf–"

"SO YOU HAND IT TO HIM ON A SILVER PLATTER? If he was unsure then, he's certainly not now!" James's hands were clenched at his sides.

"I thought he would back off! Snape knew that I was in a bad mood, he was baiting me!" A wave of memories washed over him, drowning him in guilt and humiliation. An empty corridor, quiet footsteps behind him. A voice full of vengeance, carrying the words that Sirius never wanted to hear… He was pulled out of it by James's retort.

"So you took the bait? Bravo, Sirius, you got tricked by a Slytherin. Consider yourself congratulated."

Sirius thrust his hands into his pockets, which were lacking a very important item. Why, he thought, do I care about this? "Give me my wand. Now."

"Why should I? You're just going to hex me with it." James's eyes were cold and angry, and his back was stiff.

"Give it to me, or so God help me, I will strangle you."

James laughed humorlessly. "You think that I'm afraid of that?"

"Damn it, just give it to me!" A glance in the mirror showed that a bruise was forming, dark purple, along his jaw.

"No. I don't trust you enough to have a wand. Maybe you'll set the dorm on fire or blow up my trunk."

Was James kidding? Didn't he realize that there was so much more to this than Sirius's screw up? He crossed the room in a few strides until he was standing face to face with James. James glared at Sirius, silently daring him to hit him, to launch himself further in this downward spiral called life.

Sirius turned away, his fingers subconsciously returning to his pockets. His fingertips found what they were looking for; whether it brought solace or discord, he didn't know.

Quietly, James said, "You're going to talk to Remus when he wakes up tomorrow."

"What if I don't?" He was weary and tired; it was a way to save face.

"You will, unless you're afraid of owning up to your mistakes."

"I'm not."

"Then tomorrow morning, you're going to go to the Hospital Wing and explain everything that happened to him. And if he hits you, you deserve it." At this point, James scowled at him. "You had no reason to do that. Nothing Snape could have done is bad enough to make you want him to die."

"You don't know that." What did James know? He had never set expectations for himself and seen them crumble. He didn't know what it was like to be the object of scorn by his flesh and blood. He hadn't seen a brother turn away from what was right to the Dark Arts and the Death Eaters.

James didn't understand that death wasn't the worst way to lose a person.

"Is that how Blacks handle bad situations? By getting rid of the people who cause them? For all you say you aren't like them–"

Sirius hardly had time to feel hurt before his temper got the best of him. He swung his fist forward, getting James in the face. He tried to keep his voice steady.

"I am not like them."

"Are you sure?"

Sirius sat on the edge of his bed, losing himself in the question. Time slipped away from him. Looking up, he said, "Prongs? I don't know. I'm going to bed."

He didn't wait for a response to pull his pajamas on. From out of his pants pockets, he removed a picture, folded up and worn so thin it was starting to rip by the edges. Sirius got into bed and pulled the curtains closed.

Sirius's mother, often when cooling down after one of her rages, would murmur under her breath in French, la fierté précède la punition. Pride comes before the fall.

He had thought he had convinced Regulus that the path of the Dark Arts was dangerous. That he would always regret following that crowd. He was so confident in himself that he forgot that defiance was not easily accomplished. He didn't keep tabs the way he should have.

So his little brother had fallen in with the Death Eater crowd. And it was, in essence, Sirius's fault. When Snape had laughed in his face and pointed it out, he had let his anger take control of him. What did it matter, if he had already figured it out? Why not give him what he wanted? Only a fool would follow Sirius's advice.

He regretted the situation he had put Remus in. That he had most likely destroyed the most important relationships of his life. That he had made enemies out of his friends.

But he wasn't sorry that Snape had nearly lost his life.

With trembling fingers, he unfolded the photograph. It was black-and-white, and was obviously a candid shot. The two Black brothers, who couldn't have been older than eight and seven, respectively, were outside the family mansion. Both wore insane, happy grins, and had mischievous twinkles in their eyes. They were laughing. Sirius could barely remember the day it was taken; a family reunion? Andromeda was visiting with her boyfriend while Orion and Walburga were away?

Sirius never showed the picture to anyone. He was fairly certain that no one knew it existed. He would deny that he carried it.

But he missed the days where his brother was his ally.

So, that's a wrap! I don't particularly like the ending sentence to this story, but it will do.

I tried to keep this story as canon as possible, which is why Sirius doesn't regret what he did as applies to Snape. In Prisoner of Azkaban, he says that "It served [Snape] right, sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to..." Sirius is my favorite character, and I admire him for a lot of things. I do not think, though, that he was sorry for what he did, and that given the chance, would not change what he did. I read a lot of fanfictions where Sirius claims that he wasn't thinking. In my version, he does do this, but later takes it back by saying that Snape deserved it.

In many ways, Sirius is driven by his anger. He channels it so that he can work with it, but he has a temper, regardless. I don't think that J.K. Rowling meant for "the Prank" to be direct revenge on Snape, nor do I think that he could do something so merciless without something making him mad. I tried to find a middle ground; a situation such as 'the straw that broke the camel's back'.

I could talk about Sirius for hours. Anyway, reviews are appreciated :) If there's anything you'd like to see me write, just comment. The Marauders fascinate me.