A/N: I thought I wouldn't get to post this until the weekend because of all the work I have to do, but I'm glad I can update earlier. This chapter is only angsty towards the end, but trust me, enjoy the first few light-hearted moments of this one, because you're gonna hate me in the next few chapters to come. Anyway, I just want to thank all of you so much for the support, it means so much to me. Enjoy! :)

I stare at the titles embossed on the spines of the books, not really sure about what I'm looking for. It's a miracle enough that I'm in the library during Easter holidays, so it's not surprising that I can't even remember why I'm here to begin with.

"Padfoot, what are you doing here?"

Swiveling around, I see James, leaning on one of the bookshelves with an amused grin on his face.

"I... I told you, I was going to get this book for... for my..." I rack my brain, trying to find a tangible excuse for why I'm idly standing at the back shelves of the library, staring off into space.

"...Your Muggle Studies essay," James finishes. "And you said that over an hour ago before heading here. You said you'd be back in a few minutes."

"Oh..." I feel pathetic for not knowing what else to say. "Well, I just... I didn't know which books to get and it's a tough subject and –"

"And when you saw Remus over there," he interrupts, pointing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of where Remus and Ashwood are talking in hushed tones, "you rushed to the farthest shelves before he could even see you and now that they've transferred to a closer table, you don't want to leave because he'll see you. Which, frankly, I find immensely stupid because he's your partner for this assignment and it's due in two days. But I'm pretty sure Remus already finished it for your sorry arse. So why you're still here when you ditched our very intense game of chess –"

"I already won," I point out, but he continues.

"-to hide in the shelves is because you can't confront him."

"He's busy talking to Ashwood," I say, shrugging.

"A couple days ago, before we left the Astronomy Tower, you promised you would try to patch things up with him."

Groaning, I pout. "But he's being such a prick about everything."

"So are you," James counters without hesitation. "You're both being idiots, so please just make up with him. He's heartbroken and lost."

"Heartbroken? I don't think he even likes me anymore, we've been bickering over everything. He hates me, so what's the problem?"

"I don't give a damn if he likes you not, but you two need to be friends again. Peter and I are tired of acting as your buffers. It's really frustrating to schedule our bathroom use so that you two are never alone in it together. And how you two can't even study in the same room together, not even for Muggle Studies. It's stupid. And don't even get me started on when we eat and the both of you are –"

"Okay, okay!" I stop him. "I just... I know I said really horrible things, but..." I trail off, not knowing how to explain it.

"But you're in a really bad place. You didn't know what to do and he said some pretty nasty things too. You're dealing with so much and it's hard to take in this new information. You want to be friends again,but you two are treating each other horribly, so you don't understand your friendship anymore. Now that you know how he felt about you, it's not just that you piss each other off now. It's that you think that for the past few years, every moment you spent together was some prelude for his ideal version of what you two could ever be."

I stare at him, impressed and frustrated at the same time. Sighing, I nod.

"Yeah... That's it. It just feels like... like there's a different reason now for why he has done all the things he ever did for me. Like all the things we've done together was some pretense for something he wants us to be. I know that it's hard for him and that he never had any control over his feelings... But I just feel like I'm a disappointment. All throughout these years, I thought that I was the best thing for him. I understood him the most, I kept him in check during full moons, I knew how to cheer him up and we had so much fun. I always just thought that I was enough – more than enough, actually. And as much as I know that he's having a crap time about this, it also kinda sucks to feel like this whole time I was just so oblivious to the fact that he's wanted more than I can ever give and that whenever he was with me, he'd have a picture in his head that I can never live up to."

He takes a deep breath and puts an arm around me, saying, "You, mate, are so wrong."

Raising an eyebrow at him, I ask, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he starts, waving a hand emphatically, "that you were never some disappointment to Moony. I mean, yeah, sure, he would have loved it for you to love him the way he loves you, but that doesn't mean you were depriving him of something. You're not just some guy he has a crush on, Padfoot. You're his best friend, and that has always meant more to him. He wanted you, but he never brought out the 'I want to be more than that' card. He was just glad you're in his life, Pads. As much as he would have been more than willing to be something more, he was perfectly contented with how you two were."

I open mouth just to realize that I have nothing to say. Ducking out of his arm around my shoulders, I lean back on the shelves. I slide down till I reach the floor, sitting cross-legged and gazing off to who knows where.

James looks down at me before sitting next to me. "If you're surprised by that, then I don't know what version of Moony you've been spending time with for the past six and half years. When I was still getting used to his feelings for you, I asked him if he was okay with being 'just friends'. He rolled his eyes and said that he hated that stupid phrase."

Frowning, I look at him confused. "So it does bother him that we're nothing more than that."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, he didn't like it because it implies that being your friend means less than his feelings. He said, 'Of course we aren't more than friends. What in the world can be possibly more than what we have?'"

My stomach does a slow flip and I smile. "He said that?"

He nods. "Yep. And I told him it was the gayest thing he's ever said."

"You're an arse," I reply, chuckling.

Grinning, he says, "My point stands, though. If you're hesitating about being friends with him because you think you aren't enough, then you don't have much of a basis there."

"I guess... He's still getting on my nerves though. And I'm getting on his."

"Yeah," James mumbles. "But when you two finally cool off, at least give it a try okay?"

"I'll try," I mutter, wishing that I'll stick to it.

I sit in the stands of the Quidditch pitch, leaning forward, elbows on my knees.

I've never had the patience or dedication to actually play, but the sport always fascinates. It is exciting and when your beyond-competitive best mate is a captain of one of the teams playing for the final game, even the practices are fun to watch.

The Gryffindor team have been doing James' different plays for the past six and a half hours. It's evident that James would have been perfectly willing to practice into and through the night if Marlene McKinnon hadn't threatened him ("JAMES POTTER, I SWEAR IF YOU'RE GOING TO KEEP US HERE FOR ANOTHER HOUR, YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO FIND ANOTHER KEEPER TO PLAY FOR THIS DAMN TEAM ON SATURDAY. IT'S NOT EVEN THE DAMN FINALS YET AND WE STILL HAVE IMPORTANT EXAMS TO STUDY FOR, YOU PRAT!").

So they settle for just cooling off for a few more minutes. The Chasers – Alec Chang, Sophia Barnes, and a very pouty James – are just practicing shots now, with Marlene doing her best to block each one. Anna Finnigan and Isaac Wood, the Beaters, are trying to keep the Bludger in check. And Ashwood isn't even trying to look like he's up for anything – just catching and letting go off the Snitch repeatedly and lazily.

Peter, who is perched next to me with his arms crossed, mutters, "I can literally see James' whiny face from here."

I laugh. "What does he expect? It's been over six hours and he's dealing with a team where more than half of them have to deal with O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s in a couple months. Such a prat."

Peter chuckles in agreement then pauses. "...Am I hallucinating or is that Remus actually down on the field?"

My eyes immediately fly to the grass, where Remus just walked in with his messenger bag hanging from his shoulder and a book clutched tightly in his hand. He looks up at the players, squinting his eyes, then smiles widely. I still haven't talked to him, regardless of me promising James I would last week.

"What's he doing here? He doesn't care about Quidditch," Peter wonders aloud.

Then, I remember something James mentioned this morning. "He's waiting for Ashwood. Tutoring him in Muggle Studies."

I watch as James finally dismisses the team. Everyone heads out to change and James is making his way to us, but Ashwood zooms directly towards Remus, grinning about something. Just like that, I feel like there's something wrong.

Two weeks later, I'm sitting in the Great Hall during dinner, looking down the table to see Remus sitting with Lily and Ashwood far away from us.

"Why is he sitting with them?" I ask, repetitively poking at my mashed potatoes with my fork.

Peter peers at me curiously. "Why would you care? Not like you two can exchange a decent word without cringing."

"That's true," James mutters before taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. "Besides, they're probably talking about Prefect things... Or nerd things."

"He's been spending time with them a lot lately," I try to say nonchalantly.

Raising his eyebrows, Peter says, "So?"

"I mean, shouldn't he be spending more time with us?"

James groans. "Like we said, Pads, you're not really in the best place to judge. Both of you are still acting like five-year-olds towards each other."

Ignoring James' comment, I eye the trio. "Are they his new best friends or something?"

Peter rolls his eyes at me. "Just leave it, Padfoot."

Finally tearing my gaze away, I start to miss Remus even more. "Fine."

"Are you gonna watch the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match tomorrow or are you still annoyed that Ravenclaw is so behind that even Hufflepuff beat you guys?" I ask, as we walk down the hallway.

She glares at me and pouts, but answers anyway. Aggravated or not, this girl can't steer away from a conversation about Quidditch. "Yeah, I'll go. I have to scope out the competition anyway. We'll be playing Hufflepuff next week and since there's no way we can manage to catch up with Gryffindor or Slytherin, it'll just be for third place. But still, it's better than being last in the league. I still can't believe our team's so out of shape this season! It's not fair. It's all Biancardi's fault, I tell you. He's a top notch seeker, but he's been so distracted this year he can't even find the Snitch most of the time. Especially when he's playing against Ashwood. But I guess Anthony is pretty amazing, best Seeker I've seen in Hogwarts. It's just that, you'd think that we could have at least scored more –" She stops abruptly, looking at me guiltily. "Sorry. I was ranting again wasn't I? The games have really just been so –"

I step in front of her, stopping her tracks, and place my hands on her shoulders. Smiling at her, I wait for her to calm down before speaking. "Maggie, stop. You're stressing again. You'll do great, really. It doesn't matter if you're playing for the first or last place for the Quidditch Cup because nothing will erase the fact that you're absolutely brilliant at it. So stop spending all your time worrying about it because it's starting to feel like I'm dating James."

Her frown pulls into a beautiful grin. "Sweetie, as far as anyone in Hogwarts is concerned, you and Potter have been married since first year."

I chuckle then let my hands drop to her waist, pulling her closer. "Do I do this with James?"

Leaning forward until our noses our touching, I curl my hand under her chin to tilt her head up until our lips meet. She tastes like peppermint, which makes my heart flutter a bit. When we break apart, our foreheads are still touching. Then, she smirks and mutters, "I hope not."

Pulling away, I grab her hand. "I'm gonna head to the Common Room, yeah?"

"Okay, I have to study anyway. Sit with me at the Ravenclaw stands tomorrow?"

"Of course." I give her hand a final squeeze before letting it go.

She flashes me a smile before turning around and disappearing up the stairs.

When I step through the portrait hole, the first thing I notice is Remus. Specifically, Remus in one of the couches, reading, and for the first time in a while, without Lily or Ashwood with him.

James' pleas flicker in my mind. Maybe I should go over there and at least attempt a decent conversation with him. I owe him that much. But if he makes another snarky comment about Maggie –

Before I can even finish the thought, Ashwood passes by me and sits next to Remus. He grabs Remus' book from his grip before talking, which of course, makes Remus glower. But it's the trademark Remus Lupin expression. The kind he has when he makes a show of being irritated, but the corners of his mouth still quirk up in amusement. They start talking about something animatedly. Knowing them, it's probably about studying and books.

I don't realize how stupid I look, just standing there and staring at them, until Ashwood waves at me. "Oh, hey," he calls from the other side of the room with a concerned voice. "Am I stealing Remus away from you?"

As I approach, I can see that Remus is just noticing now that I'm in the room. His ears are turning red from Ashwood's comment.

"Nah, I just... Nothing, I was looking for Frank or James because I remember one of them having notes for Care Of Magical Creatures," I lie.

"Oh, you looked like you wanted to talk to Remus, that's all," Ashwood says curiously.

Obviously, Remus' new best friend or not, he still doesn't have any idea about what's going on between me and Remus.

"James is up the dorm room taking a shower. Franks studying up there too," Remus finally says, his focus returning to the book he tugged out of Ashwood's hands.

"Oh, right," I mutter. "Thanks."

He doesn't even look up. "Mhmm."

Ashwood looks at him suspiciously then turns to me. "I doubt Frank's actually studying though. He seems pretty determined to stock up my dorm with Firewhiskey for my birthday."

"It's your birthday?"

"No, it's tomorrow," Remus pipes up, making me smile a little. "But Frank claims that the best way to start your birthday is to go into the night getting drunk off your arse."

Ashwood smirks, and nods. "Either that or he just wants to see how James reacts when he sees me show up at the pitch hungover."

I chuckle, although still focusing on Remus.

"Well," I awkwardly mumble, "I should go get those... notes now."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," Anthony says, beaming up at me.

I stand there for a moment or two, half-expecting Remus to say something. But as he leans back and raises his book up to his face as he reads, I give up and walk away.

As I leave, I can faintly hear Anthony badgering him. "What was that about?"

By the time James walks out of the shower, I'm lying on his bed face down, screaming into the pillow.

"There's a Sirius on my bed throwing a tantrum," he says in a bored voice. "Is it that time of the summer where you get really bored and pathetic already?"

I turn to lay my head sideways, facing him and sticking my tongue out.

"So it's summer and we're twelve again. Weird day," he remarks before sitting next to me.

"Fuck off," I groan.

"My bed, Pads," he quips, smacking my head.

"You're mean."

"Do you make it a daily goal to flatter me by showcasing just how mature I've gotten while you're still whining about everything?" he asks with a smirk on his face. "Because it's not as fun for me as you think."

"Shut it," I mumble.

He sighs, "What's wrong now?"

Being straightforward and frustrated with everything, I just say, "I wish I never got drunk that night."

"You and I both, mate," he agrees.

I sit up facing him, shaking my head. "Such an arse of me."

"For what?"

Looking at him pointedly, I impatiently mutter, "You know what."

"Getting him drunk or initiating the very steamy snogging?" he asks with a smug smile on his face.

My face reddens and I clench my fists. "Whatever, I was drunk okay? Remus has way better alcohol tolerance than me and I wish he used that to his advantage to stop it sooner and not kiss me back. I mean, he must have known that it didn't mean anything."

James shrugs. "Well, he would've stopped it if you weren't talking about wanting to shag blokes, Remus specifically. So you can't really blame him for –"

"What?"

James blinks in confusion. "...What?"

"I did not say that," I insist, my voice getting high-pitched at my panicked defense. He isn't making any sense at all.

His jaw practically drops. "You're kidding, right?" he mumbles incredulously. "You don't remember what you talked about that night?"

"I was convincing him that I would be okay being around him during the full moon because he was still –"

"No," James me cuts me off. "I meant after you downed two bottles of Firewhiskey."

I narrow my eyes at him and feel my heart thump wildly in my chest for something I'm not even aware of yet. "Prongs, what the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"Well, first you kept complaining about Margaret..." he starts tentatively.

"What? But she's... huh?" None of this was adding up. There's definitely nothing wrong with Maggie.

"Apparently she's too... feminine for you," James says slowly.

I almost laugh, but the lump in my throat was choking me. "W-what's that supposed to mean?"

James looks at me with concern. "Look, Sirius, it's perfectly okay to be thinking about... you know."

Feeling my face flush, I glare at him. "I'm not fucking queer, if that's what you're trying to suggest."

He chews on his bottom lip, looking like he was tiptoeing around trap. "Look, just...let me explain, okay?"

I scowl, daring him to go on.

He takes a deep breath then starts. "Well, Remus said it started when he mentioned Maggie getting mad at you for standing her up. You said you didn't mind anyway because it was frustrating how feminine and whiny she was, which ended up with you saying that maybe you should try it with a bloke. Remus kept laughing because I guess he thought you were joking, but you insisted that you weren't, even when you mentioned that if you were to be with a bloke... that way... Um, you said you'd pick him."

I blink. And I just keep blinking with my mouth hanging open.

Then, I laugh.

Grinning, I punch him lightly on the shoulder. "Very funny."

Before I can manage to get up from the bed, he grips my arm and pulls me back down.

"I'm serious."

He slaps a hand over my mouth before I can retort the obvious.

"If I hear that joke again," he says exasperatedly, "I will strangle someone."

I grin behind his hand.

"Anyway," he continues, pulling his hand away, "I'm telling the truth here, Sirius."

"I'm not queer," I blurt out again, my stomach churning.

"I didn't say you were," he counters, but with a look on his face that screamed accusations.

Snorting, I avoid his gaze. "Right. Save it, Prongs."

"Sirius, it's not like I would mind, you know..."

I glare at him, scoffing. "Why would you even think that? It's so... Why?"

He raises his eyebrows. "Really? You wanna go there?" he challenges.

I give him a tiny shrug and a blank expression.

"Oh, I don't know," he says sarcastically, looking me in the eye. "I can't really think of anything other than the fact that I know you usually tell the truth when you're drunk, truths you don't even accept when you're sober, and ended up talking about how you want to shag blokes then proceeded to snog Remus senseless."

My face is practically radiating heat, trying to tune out his words. That night was different. There was no subtext to what happened. It was just a drunken mistake and absolutely nothing more.

"I... I like Maggie," I say in a pathetic attempt of defense.

James peers at me worriedly, seeing the panic forming in my eyes. "Attraction isn't exclusive to one person, Sirius... Or one gender, for that matter."

Tensing, I feel the overwhelming urge to hit him.

I am not gay. There is no way that I'm gay. I'm Sirius Black. I've shagged my way through every bird I've ever wanted. Granted, not in the past year, but...

"I don't like Remus," I say suddenly, not knowing where that came from.

Regardless of my surprise at my own words, I keep my face blank of any emotion.

James sighs, almost like he's bored. Almost like he thinks that I'm fighting for a lost cause, like he's so sure that he's undeniable right about this. "Who said we were talking about Remus?"

I frown. "Prongs, look... I just... I'm... I'm not," I stutter.

"No, it's okay, it's totally okay. There's nothing wrong with this, Sirius," he mutters. Then, he adds kindly, "I mean, if you are."

"No it's not, James," I insist, "It's so wrong... I mean, if I was," I add hastily.

He crosses his arms, "You're saying it's wrong? Wow, and you wonder why Remus is acting so cold towards you."

"Just... just shut up, okay?" I beg, my voice rising. "You know nothing about me."

He chuckles mockingly. "I doubt that... Stop fighting it, Sirius."

"I'm not fighting anything!" I shout, shooting up from his bed.

"Then why are you losing your temper again, getting so angry at me for pointing out a mere possibility?!" he retorts, getting up on his feet as well.

I run my fingers through my hair, grumbling under my breath. "Because it's not a possibility!" I finally respond. "I will never be what he wants, okay?!"

"Sirius –" James tries to stop me, but I keep going.

"No. Don't tell me to calm down, Prongs. I just need you to accept the fact that I'm not that kind of person –"

"Sirius, will you just –"

"I will never like guys the way you think I do," I add, talking over him.

"Pads, turn aro –"

"And hell will freeze over, " I practically spit, "before I can ever – will ever – love him."

He narrows his eyes. "Stop it," he asserts, moving to grab me in an attempt for me to stop, but I swat his hand away and interrupt him again.

"And if that's not convincing enough for you, Prongs, I'm gonna go and find my lovely, feminine girlfriend for a fantastic shag," I finish, a smug look on my face. A look with a grin I'm forcing on to mask the fact that I am at loss for a reason to why I said what I said.

When I turn around however, my grin fades and I feel my heart plummeting.

Remus is standing there, arms crossed and shoulder leaning against the door frame. His face is completely unreadable. "Use protection, will you? The world out there is shit enough without any more Blacks running around."

Any guilt I've felt vanishes before he can even finish the last word. I walk up to him with clenched fists.

James tries to ease things, speaking up. "Hey, come on, you two. This is... Can we just –"

"No," Remus interrupts. He focuses back to me. "Have fun, Black."

I stare at him, anger boiling in my veins. "I will."

Preview:

My eyes flicker over to Remus' empty bed. I stretch my arm out to my nightstand; only realize that the Map is gone and that he must have taken it to wherever he is sulking. He always did whenever he needed to be alone. I feel disappointed for a moment, but then get over it quickly. After all, I wouldn't know what to do anyway if I did know where he is.