Title: With a Smile

Characters: Sirius Black and James Potter.

Prompts: Write about your characters last (I chose the last time Sirius spoke to James). [Emotion] Anxiety, [dialogue] "What in heavens are you blathering about?" and [word] teacup. Minimum 750 words and maximum 3, 000 words.

Word Count: 1, 516

Sirius normally wasn't a superstitious man. He didn't believe in the muggle stories that he had read that black cats were supposedly bad luck or that breaking a mirror meant you were going to experience seven years of bad luck. He was not the kind of guy to walk across the street because he would have to walk underneath a latter if he continued on the path he was currently on. But things had changed. Sirius still didn't believe that there was such a thing as bad luck. But he was starting to think that maybe it wouldn't hurt if he started being a little more cautious.

The flat was pitch black when he opened the door. A lazy wave with the wand caused some candles to light up together with a few lamps that was strategically placed throughout the flat. They guided him first to the kitchen where he took out his favourite teacup and poured some dark brown liquid into it. He was never one to follow orders. Especially not from a teacup. If he wanted to drink coffee in a teacup then he damn well would. And with the steaming hot liquid Sirius followed the lamps and the floating candles to his next destination which just happened to be his bedroom. He put the cup on the square table next to his bed and began removing his clothes.

"Ugh," he groaned when some of his muscles protested. In the dark, no one could see the black and blue bruises that covered his back. Sirius had a hunch that it looked about as bad as it felt but he was too tired to care. He was too tired for most things.

A sigh of relief escaped him as he laid down on his bed and nestled into the pillows. His brown hair was wet from the rain. But at least, thanks to the bun, the water didn't run down his neck quite as much as before. His upper body looked like a canvas belonging to a very bad or a very good painter. Or maybe only someone who used few colours, more specifically blue, green, yellow, purple, black and splashes of red. He rubbed his grey eyes and then he reached for the mirror. The movement made a mask of pain flash across his face for a few seconds but by the time the face of James Potter appeared it had vanished. Or at least he thought so.

"You look like shit Padfoot." James said. Sirius almost told him that he didn't look any better but decided against it. But it would have been true. James looked a lot worse than the last time they had spoken.

His raven-coloured hair had always been messy but now there was something maniac about it, every few seconds his hand went through it but not because it was a habit. It looked more like he performed the movement because he needed to do something to get that nervous energy out of him. The hazel eyes were more energised than ever before and he looked like he was pumped on caffeine which Sirius knew that he wasn't since he had given that stuff up when he was a teenager. He was skinnier than he used to be too. The muscles that came from hours of exercising had withered away from lack thereof.

"I know," Sirius replied instead of commenting on the appearance of his best friend. He assumed that James knew how he looked so there was really no reason for Sirius to tell him what he already knew. "Fighting a war is hard you know."

He could feel James analysing everything he said, his every movement and particularly the bruises on his upper body which he could clearly see since Sirius didn't have the strength to hold the mirror high enough to hide it. His brown hair was dirtier than normal. He too was skinnier but Sirius had always been on the skinny side. His grey eyes weren't as stormy as normal. They were hazy and dull from exhaustion which had hit him like a ton of bricks the moment he walked through the door.

"Hiding isn't very easy either." James said as he moved around on the couch to get more comfortable. Sirius could see Harry's sleeping form lying against his chest and felt his heart melt and simultaneously break at the sight.

James had never been good at hiding his anxiety. At least not to Sirius. The emotion shone through in the way he spoke to people, he became more kind and loving towards his friends than normal, and in an obvious desire not to sleep. When they were younger Sirius had stayed awake to try and help him but he soon realised that James didn't always need to talk; he just needed someone to lie next to him. He needed someone to hold or someone to hold him.

"Hey Prongs, do you believe in bad luck? Or do you think that things happen because it was meant to be?" Sirius asked.

The corners of James mouth turned upwards into a smile. "What in heavens are you blathering about?"

"Do you think that some things are meant to happen and that there is nothing we can do about it…" Sirius continued while sounding amused. "Or do you think that we can control everything and when something bad happens to us it's really just because we didn't take the proper actions against it?"

James hand went up and down Harry's back and he leaned his head slightly forward so that his nose touched the raven coloured hair on his son's head, all while looking thoughtful. "Are you turning superstitious on me Padfoot?"

Sirius shrugged. "Absolutely not. What makes you think that? Are you turning superstitious?"

"Yeah, a little bit," James admitted and chuckled. "Lily thinks I'm an idiot. I've stopped looking out the window because for some reason I am sure that if I'll die if I see the last leaf of autumn fall down."

"That's illogical," Sirius commented with a snort. "You wouldn't even know if it was the last leaf. Also, autumn doesn't necessarily end because the last leaf has fallen where you are or even in this country."

"Well yeah mate, I'm aware of that," James retorted while rolling his eyes. "But being superstitious isn't about being logical. It's something people use to protect themselves from what they're afraid of."

So much was left unsaid during the silence that appeared between them. Sirius knew, just as well as James, what he was afraid of even if he didn't say the words out loud. Sirius took a deep breath. A question had been nagging him. It had been in the back of his mind every time he saw his best friend but so far, he had never dared say it out loud.

"Are you afraid?" Sirius began with a slightly quivering voice that was unlike him. "Are you afraid of dying?"

"Are you?" James asked without missing a beat.

Sirius shrugged. "I'm more afraid of you dying then I am of dying myself."

"Yeah," James nodded. "Me too. About you obviously."

For some reason, a muggle movie appeared in Sirius mind. They had watched it when they were younger. It was one of the first things they had done after helping James and Lily move to Godric's Hollow. Sirius didn't remember much of what had happened in the movie but he remembered that someone died. He remembered that the person cried because of all the things he hadn't said to the people that he loved; and now he would never get the chance to tell them what he had on his mind. Sirius couldn't understand that. And he still couldn't even if they were faced with the risk of dying every day. He had told everyone he cared about exactly how he felt. There were no words left unsaid. Especially not between him and James.

"If you had to go," Sirius began and looked directly at James face. Almost as if he was trying to memorize the face of his best friend just in case something was to happen. "If you had to die young. How would you want to die?"

James laughed. "I'd want to go with a smile. What about you?"

"Yeah," Sirius nodded. "With a smile. That sounds like a plan brother."

Then the conversation changed to Harry. They had never struggled with going back and forth between easy and hard subjects. This time was no exception. Eventually Sirius told him goodnight and then he put the mirror on the table next to his bed.

He wasn't a superstitious man. Sirius had never been one to believe that black cats gave bad luck or that breaking a mirror gave you seven years of bad luck. And still, when he went to bed that night Sirius turned his back to the window. He wasn't going to be the one to see the last leaf fall from the trees. He didn't know if it would help but he knew that it wouldn't hurt.

The end