On Monday morning, Sirius woke feeling better than he had in weeks. His afternoon with James was still fresh in his mind, he barely noticed the cuts on his arms, and for once, he didn't feel like curling up in a ball and crying.

As usual, James was already up and buzzing around before he was even able to sit up.

"Come on guys! Up and at 'em!" From the sound of his feet thumping, James was actually skipping about the room. Sirius smiled in spite of himself.

Calm down, he told himself. Last night was not a date, he is not gay, and you have no idea whether he's actually going to break it off with Evans. His smile melted, slightly.

Before he had a moment to truly ponder his thoughts, his curtains were yanked open, rudely.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Startled, Sirius jumped, and scrambled to pull down the sleeves on his pajamas. Thankfully, James didn't seem to notice. Unfortunately, James did find it appropriate to grab him by his wrist and yank him out of bed. "Come on, Padfoot, we're gonna be late!" Sirius had to physically repress the scream that built up in his throat as he felt the cuts tear open beneath his sleeves. His eyes watered, his breath caught, and he had to force a smile.

"Late for what?" He grimaced, trying to pretend he wasn't in pain. Remus was looking at him strangely from across the room. Sirius felt his stomach drop to his feet. He knows nothing. He assured himself. It's okay.

"For the most important meal of the day!" James was chiming, cheerfully. Sirius groaned.

"You have way too much energy in the morning, Prongs." He mumbled, extracting his wrist from the other boy's grasp. He pulled some fresh clothes from his trunk and escaped into the bathroom.

He locked the door behind him and pulled up his sleeve. As he had suspected, at least three of the cuts had been split and were now bleeding freshly again.

"Fuck." Sirius swore under his breath and ran his wrist beneath the tap. He couldn't shake the nervous feeling he had gotten after Remus had shot him that look. His fingers trembled as the cool water ran across his bloodied skin. If Remus knew, there was absolutely no question whatsoever that he would tell James.

If he told James… well, Sirius didn't want to think about it.

"It's okay." He whispered again. He changed out of his pajamas and slipped his school shirt tenderly over his forearms. He buttoned slowly.

This was going to be a good day, he was sure of it. James wasn't in love with Evans. He wasn't.

He could still almost smell the scent of James' cologne from the day before. Sirius smiled at himself in the mirror. He pulled at his curls. He brushed his teeth. He washed his face.

There was a pounding on the door.

"What are you doing in there, putting on makeup? Come on! I'm bloody starving!" Doing on last double, triple check in the bathroom mirror, Sirius straightened his tie and unlocked the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." He answered. James was waiting impatiently outside the door.

"Primping, are we?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. "Who's the date with?" Sirius blushed and Remus awkwardly massaged the back of his neck. Sirius mumbled something in response and grabbed his journal from his bedside table.

"Not everyone is so motivated by food, Prongs," he answered, stuffing it in his bag.

"Mhm. I'm a fatass." James turned around and started walking away from him.

"You're not a fatass." Sirius called after him. He glared at Remus, who was sniggering beside him. He slowed down and allowed James to get a little more headway.

"What's so funny?" He demanded.

"Nothing, nothing." Said Remus, smiling. "I'm just wondering what went on between you two yesterday." Sirius felt himself blushing even deeper.

"Nothing." Sirius answered. "Nothing happened." Remus shot him a disbelieving look.

"Oh come on, Padfoot. You look happier than you have in months." Sirius glared at him.

"It has not been months!"

"Mm…" Said Remus, thinking. "No, it's been months. I've been really worried about you, actually." Sirius shifted uncomfortably and pulled his sleeves into his palms.

"There's nothing to worry about." He mumbled. "I'm fine." This confrontation was taking some of his elation away from him. He was growing legitimately terrified of slipping back. "Let's go eat. James is waiting." Remus sighed.

"One second, Sirius." Sirius chewed his lip. This was it. He was going to be discovered. "Just… just promise me that if this starts to get bad, you'll come talk to me."

"Talk to you about what?" Sirius snapped. "There's nothing to talk about." He scoffed inwardly. 'If it got bad.' Remus had missed the mark. Big time. It already was bad. Now, it was getting better. He didn't need him anymore. In fact, he never needed him in the first place.

"I know you haven't admitted to anything," Said Remus, impatiently. "But I'm not stupid. I'm glad things seem to be okay for you right now. Please, just know that I'm concerned, and if you need me, and can get over your bloody stubborn attitude, I would love to help you." This conversation was making Sirius sad.

"I'm fine." He answered softly. "But thanks. I just want to enjoy my day, okay?" Remus nodded.

"Okay. Now, put that smile back on. I think James likes it." Unsure how to answer this, Sirius turned and hurried off in the direction of the Great Hall.

They arrived to find James already stuffing his face with food. Evans was sitting beside him, looking disgusted. Sirius took the seat on the opposite side of his friend, feeling smug. James trusted him. Him. Not her.

"Where'd you to go off to?" James asked, as Sirius plopped himself down. "For a snog?" Sirius shot him a look. He know James had meant it as a joke. But as of now, he was the only person that knew about him being gay.

Well, sort of. Fuck Remus.

"Oh, yeah." He answered, sarcastically. "It was a good one too. A real shame you missed it, Prongs. You should have been there." James frowned.

"That's too bad, Padfoot. I'll bet you missed me." He stuck his tongue out and Sirius cringed a little. Evans rolled her eyes.

"I swear to god, sometimes I think you two are the lovers." Sirius went quiet and went back to his food. Remus shot a concerned look in his direction and he tried to brush it off. That's just because she's jealous. He told himself. "Are we going to the library again, James? This afternoon?" She asked. James looked around in surprise.

"But you always go with Snape on Mondays." He answered, bewildered.

"So?" Evans asked, cozying up close to James' arm. "This time, I thought we should go." Sirius slouched down in his chair, suddenly wishing that he had chosen to sit somewhere else. To his severe annoyance, Remus chose to put a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged him off. He didn't need comfort. He was fine.

Still, he could feel that morning's happiness slowly beginning to fade. James could change his mind at any moment, after all, and decide he wanted Evans. He remained mostly silent for the remainder of the meal, despite James' obvious efforts to keep him engaged and not to leave him out.

He followed slightly behind his friends on their way to class.

In Transfiguration, Sirius pulled out his notebook. It was the perfect moment of peace that he needed to write about the previous day.

1October 1976

I really, really, really don't know how to feel about yesterday. Overall, I think I'm happy, which is amazing considering how absolutely awful I've been feeling over the last… I want to say weeks, but Remus says months. When I woke up this morning, I actually didn't feel like crying. I was… happy. There's no other way to put it.

Yesterday afternoon, James and I went out to the Quidditch pitch. We played around like usual, but then we spent like… a half an hour just lying in the grass, talking. He even played with my hair. He's never done that before.

And guess what? I actually told him I was gay! I came out to someone, and he didn't even disown me. In fact, he even said that I'm the only person who knows him. He also said he wasn't sure about Evans after all, and because of that, I don't think I've ever felt more relieved.

Remus seems worried about me being this happy though, like he thinks it's all going to come crashing out from underneath me. That's bullshit, though. James is my best friend…

He's my best friend.

Maybe… Maybe I am getting too ahead of myself here. Maybe, I should slow down. I mean, what I am getting so excited about?

So he doesn't stay with Evans. So what? That doesn't mean I have any sort of chance. He's not even gay.

He's not even gay.

He may leave Evans, but in reality, it makes no real difference to me. I still won't have him. It will still be weird when he finds out how I feel for him, and I'm just going to have to go through the heartbreak all over again in a few months when he meets a girl he can connect with on the same level that he does me.

Maybe in a different world….

Maybe in a universe where he was gay or was a girl, we could be together. But Remus is right.

In this universe, I will never have him. And here I am, getting myself all worked up because…

Because of what? A conversation with my best friend? Because Evans makes him awkward?

Who the fuck cares, Sirius? Get over yourself. You know damn well that you aren't good enough for him.

Just… Just stop this.

I have to stop this. I have to get over him.

I can't let myself get so excited over some stupid little talk.

He's my best friend.

How goddamn selfish is this of me to want him in this way?

I'm disgusting.

I have to go now.

Sirius Black

Sirius closed the journal and swallowed back the lump that was starting to form resolutely in his throat. What was wrong with him? Now that he had gotten all that out on paper, he was entirely unsure why he had been so happy to begin with.

He wasn't happy.

No, he was miserable.

In fact, he felt like crying.

No, no he didn't. He felt like cutting. That's what he needed. To relax. To settle down and breathe. And what better method did he have?

Feeling around in his bag, he found the cold, forgiving metal of his pocketknife. He let out a sigh of relief, having not remembered whether he had brought it along today or not. As covertly as possible, he slipped the knife into his pocket and raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Black?" Professor McGonagall called.

"May I use the restroom?" He asked, calmly. Professor McGonagall rolled eyes, but excused him all the same. He stood, and exited the classroom, feeling relieved to be rid of his classmates' company. Quickly, he shuffled off to the nearest washroom and locked himself in a stall. For a moment, he hesitated. Was he really doing this in classes now?

Deciding it was worth it, he slid up his sleeves, and went to work.

Satisfied a moment later with the 5 pretty lines that he had drawn on his skin, he flipped his knife closed and returned it to his bag.

He was going to be fine.

And from now on, he'd know better than to let himself be happy.