He woke with the sun.

It was still dark, earlier than he'd have liked had he looked at the clock by the bedside, but he lay in the dim morning light, following the rough ridges

in the chipped paint that crisscrossed the ceiling with his eyes.

Finally, he made the regrettable decision of leaving the warmth of the bed to go and investigate the whereabouts of the other inhabitants of the house.

He opened the door slowly, careful not to let the hinges creak, and slipped out into the hall.

Leaving the plush of the carpet of his room, he inhaled sharply as his bare feet made contact with cold hardwood.

Sneaking silently past James' door, he heard the telltale sound of his friend's deep, undisturbed snoring. He smiled, descending into the heart of the house, and crept quietly around the corner at the base of the stairs.

There, glancing into the kitchen, he made out the dark figure of Mrs. Potter, seated just as she'd been the night before, hands grasped firmly around the middle of a new steaming cup of tea.

She looked up slightly, turning towards his still figure in the doorway.

"Good morning," she said calmly. She gave a small smile and placed her hand on the table top, inviting him to sit. "Tea?"

"Thank you," he said hesitantly, not wanting to intrude yet knowing he wasn't. He sat where he had the night before, positioned as if they never had left. He then wondered if she had.

She poured the hot liquid into a thick sided yet delicate looking tea cup and handed it gingerly to him by the thin handle. "Careful," she cautioned as she provided a small pitcher of milk and a bowl of sugar.

He nodded his thanks and returned her good morning.

"Do you suppose you'll stay?" she asked suddenly, making him drink the scalding tea too quickly and gasp as it scorched the inside of his throat.

"Sorry?" He hadn't thought she knew, even he really didn't know his plans. He'd told no one.

"I'm sorry, I overheard you and James last night. It sounded to me you weren't sure - that James had to convince you to stay here with us." She smiled slightly and sat back from the table. "I don't like to think you're being held against your will trying to be a friend."

"I - er - I don't know," Sirius responded quietly. "I want to, you're like family to me; it's not that. I just - " He sighed, not knowing how to continue without making too much of a fool of himself.

"I understand," she said instead, nodding. "It's hard, now that James' father - well, I suppose you'll need some time to figure out what you want. James can't live here forever either, but between you and me, I'm not so sure he knows that yet."

She chuckled and Sirius couldn't help but join her. It felt good to laugh, even just a little, even at a stupid joke about his friend, sleeping soundly and obliviously upstairs.

He nodded, breathing in deeply, his mood brightened.

"I haven't really mentioned it to him yet," Sirius mumbled. "I know he's not going to like it."

Mrs. Potter nodded and examined her tea cup. "Yes, I think you're right, though you also need to do what you think you need to, not what he thinks you need." She put down the cup and looked up at him. "Does that make any sense?"

"Ha- yeah, it does. I think it's really just a matter of making myself do it at this point; not - "

"Not staying on my account," a low voice muttered from the darkness of the hall.

James, contrary to Sirius's belief, had not been sleeping as soundly as usual and had consequentially been woken by the muted voices of his friend and mother. He now stood, framed in the doorway, having overheard just enough to grasp the gist of the conversation.

"James, hey. Er- good morning," Sirius stumbled, unsure what to say, unsure how, or if, he could back out of an explanation. He was more than sure he couldn't.

"Morning," James returned, walking into the light and moving to sit at the table. "You two have been up for a while, then?"

"Well - "

"Not for 'a while'; Sirius just joined me. And now that you have as well perhaps we can have a proper discussion," the older woman cut in, glancing at the frazzled, shaggy haired boy who gave a small smile of gratitude.

"About what? Sounds to me like there's already been a discussion," James retorted, however calmly.

"Yes, between Sirius and I; I surely hope you don't feel as if you've been left out." Her voice was steady, not filled so much with concern as with the dangerous warning voice of a mother. She smiled at her son who did not seem to appreciate her teasing him.

"Sirius has a proposition he'd like to make, though without interruption and with hope that his friend will make an effort to understand." With that, she picked up her tea and stood, walking out of the kitchen and back upstairs.

Sirius looked after her, startled. This was not the plan - though, to be honest, had there been one?

"Well?" James was looking at him now, expectantly, but not enthusiastically, as they sat alone at the too big table in the too small room.

"Er- well, yeah. So, I've been thinking, to be realistic I don't think I could stay for much longer; I mean to say living here, not like, leave the country or anything..."

"And you're always the one to be realistic, aren't you?" James replied sarcastically.

"Well I mean - that's not really the point right now, is it? I mean, come on, James. We're out! We're on our own now; there isn't anybody to keep us up anymore. We have to do that. God, I know I don't like the sound of that, and God knows that I'm the last person that should - or could, for that matter - be telling you what to do. So please don't take this that way. But I think I need to do something now - on my own." He sighed, waiting for any kind of response.

But James was silent. He just sat, hunched over the table, watching his friend intently, waiting for more. But no more came.

"Okay," he whispered finally. "If you're worrying about what I think, you shouldn't. Despite what you may like to think, I do not need you with me every second of the day to keep my sanity." The two boys laughed.

"Well thank God for that! I was beginning to think I'd end up living with you until death do we part. You know you're like a brother to me, mate, but to be honest, I don't want to picture growing old together. We'd have quite a few disappointed ladies on our hands," Sirius joked.

Soon, the two were laughing loudly, but stopped when the old clock in the hall struck the hour and they were once more reminded of their circumstances.

"What now?" James asked.

"Dunno, but don't act like it's my funeral. I'm not leaving yet, Prongs!" He knocked James on the shoulder and stood from the table. "Let's go unpack, then."