Chapter Two is finally up! Sorry for the delay. [a/n Alice's maiden name is never mentioned in the books, so I took the liberty of making one up for her myself. Also, I hate reading text in italics, so I decided to keep any or all flashbacks in regular font in case anyone else feels the same, but they're still labeled.] Enjoy!

"Remus, I owe you an explanation. I know I've been moody and aggressive, and I shouldn't take my problems out on you. The truth is, I –"

"Sirius!" Someone pounded on the bathroom door. "Open up, mate, breakfast started half an hour ago. The sausages will get cold!"

Sirius swore and grimaced at himself in the mirror. The boys' dormitory was clearly the wrong place to practice a romantic soliloquy.

"Just a minute, Pete," he called. Then he hesitated.

"Don't you ever worry about diabetes?"

Two hours later found the Marauders in History of Magic, and it was just as boring as it had been for the past six years. Remus was trying his hardest to pay attention, writing date after date down to record ancient goblin conventions and giant uprisings – although from Sirius's angle, it just looked like a lot of doodling. Peter sat on Remus's right, still drowsily working on a piece of toast from breakfast. Directly behind Peter was James, who was putting some finer details on their map of the castle. Sirius sat to James's immediate left. The Marauders had claimed these four desks since their very first day of classes at Hogwarts. The arrangement was nestled in the far right corner of the classroom, which allowed for plenty of space to spread out and pass notes when the lectures were especially meaningless.

Today was one such meaningless class period. Sirius felt his mind slipping as Professor Binns droned on and on about the mutiny against the Chief Warlock in 1877. He shook himself slightly and looked across the room. Why settle for boredom when potential entertainment was inches away? Sirius scanned the room for a few minutes, but no one seemed like a particularly good candidate for a prank. Alice Powell was staring out of the window, her eyes unfocused and glazed over (Sirius didn't blame her in the slightest). Mary MacDonald, Sirius's aforementioned first kiss, and Lily Evans were to Alice's right and left, respectively. Lily narrowed her eyes and whispered something to Alice when she saw Sirius looking at them, and he just barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Frank Longbottom and his friend Davey Gudgeon were sitting next to each in the seats closest to the door (again, Sirius had to appreciate his classmates' desperation to get out of class), and they seemed to be playing a game of magical hangman under the latter's desk.

Something had always seemed strange about Davey Gudgeon, or at least to Sirius. Maybe it was his effeminate manner and high-pitched voice, or how he always sat so close to the other boys. Sirius had brought this up to James once, expecting to share a laugh, but James hadn't found it amusing at all. More than anything, James just looked confused. Sirius remembered the conversation as if it had been last week, although he was pretty sure it had taken place last year. It went something like this:

- begin flashback -

"Hey, James," Sirius muttered to James in the crowded Common Room one Friday night, "Look at Gudgeon." He surreptitiously nodded his head in the boy's direction.

James glanced across the room, where Gudgeon was sitting next to Frank on the couch. Their heads were bent together over a letter that had arrived in today's mail.

"What about him?"

"Well, don't you think they look a bit odd?" Sirius sounded impatient.

"Um, no," said James. He still looked confused.

"They do! They're sitting awfully close together for two blokes," Sirius hinted.

"Oh," said James. "Maybe. I don't see why you care at all."

Sirius shifted uneasily on his armchair, fingers tapping an inconsistent beat on the overstuffed pillow. James raised an eyebrow.

"I don't," Sirius snapped. "It's just weird, is all."

James gave him an appraising look. Sirius glared in the other direction and crossed his legs with a huff. They sat in silence as the rowdy Common Room continued to talk and speculate about the upcoming Quidditch match.

After five minutes of prickly silence between them, James spoke again, this time with a completely different tone.

"Sirius," he said quietly, "is there anything you'd like to tell me? You know I'm here –"

Sirius jumped out as though scalded. "No," he said curtly. "Nothing to tell." He stalked out of the room and pushed the door open with more force than strictly necessary. As it swung closed behind him, he could feel his friend's concerned gaze following his back.

- end flashback –

Something brushed against Sirius's elbow, rousing him from these muddled thoughts. It was James's brand new eagle feather quill.

"James," he hissed. James didn't look up from the floor, where he was still reaching around on the floor to retrieve his quill. Sirius prodded him impatiently in the side.

"Ouch!" James yelped. The few students who were actually awake looked over curiously.

"What do you want?" James muttered back to Sirius.

"Nothing," said Sirius innocently.

"What do you mean, 'nothing'?" said James indignantly. He cradled his precious quill away from Sirius's reach. "You just punctured my ribcage!"

Sirius waved his hand airily, dismissing his best friend's supposed injury.

"Don't be so dramatic, Potter," he said. "It doesn't suit you. Anyway," he continued, "I need a favor."

"And?" James asked impatiently. He sure is sore about his 'punctured' ribs, thought Sirius. Git.

"Can I borrow the cloak tonight?" The words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush, like he wanted to make sure they all got out in time before James could refuse his request.

"Yes, if you must," said James. "I'm on prefect duty tonight, anyway, so I won't need it." Sirius sighed with relief. He didn't know what had gotten into James, but lately the latter was hesitant to lend his cloak to Sirius and Peter. Oddly enough, he seemed fine when Remus wanted to borrow it. Sirius suspected that James was trying to live up to his newfound Head Boy status. Sometimes Sirius felt like he was losing a mischievous brother and gaining a responsible caretaker in return. I'm losing a galleon, then finding a knut, he thought bitterly.

Then James posed the follow-up question that Sirius had been dreading.

"What do you need it for?"

Sirius cocked his head and put his cocky, flippant mask back on his face. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you. And we all know what a loss that would be." James aimed a kick at him under the table.

"You're an arse, Padfoot," said James. "Anyone ever told you that?"

"Nope," said Sirius. "Never."

When James continued to scrutinize him, Sirius huffed and elaborated, even if only by a little.

"Let's just say I'm going through with my word," he said, nodding in Remus's direction.

James nodded and grinned, and, before Sirius could stop him, he punched Sirius in the shoulder.

"Good man," he said. "Go and get him."