"Where's Moony?"
James looked up from the tie he was fumbling with at his neck and saw Sirius's distraught expression in the mirror he was facing. He frowned as he watched Sirius throw Remus's bed curtains open.
"Why?"
Sirius shut the curtains. "What's it to you?"
James shrugged.
Sirius turned around to face James. "So? Where's Remus?"
"And Peter," James added, straightening his tie.
Sirius paused to give James a strange look. "No, I said Remus."
"And Peter," James repeated, turning around to face the real Sirius Black.
"Oka-a-ay," Sirius said slowly, "And Peter. Where are Remus and Peter?"
James shrugged. "I don't know."
Sirius threw him a withering look before throwing himself onto Remus's bed to readjust on his heavy footwear.
"You shouldn't leave out Wormtail like that, you know," James said, rummaging in his trunk for his school robes.
"He'll live," Sirius replied. James dug in his pocket for his Head Boy badge and studied it with interest. He rubbed it on the edge of his robes and turned his attention back to Sirius, who had now flicked Remus' trunk open and was searching deftly through it.
"What are you doing?"
"What?" Sirius asked vaguely. He drew out a tiny, corked bottle sparkling with a deep purple liquid, studied it with a critical eye, and then pocketed it.
"What's that?" James asked.
Sirius stood up, shoving the trunk back to its corner with his foot. "What, the bottle? It's his post-transformation potion. Pomfrey gave it for his headache."
"Then why are you nicking it?"
"I'm not nicking it," Sirius said petulantly, "I'm taking it to Remus. He forgot to have his dose this morning."
"How the fuck do you know that?" James demanded.
"How the fuck does it matter?" was Sirius's retort. James wasn't quite sure, but for some urgent, inexplicable reason, it did matter, quite a bit, though he couldn't quite put a finger on why.
Sirius ran a hand through his hair, tussling it so that it fell into his eyes, and then tossed his head back. His hair dutifully drifted into place, elegant curtains framing his handsome face.
James felt an acute flash of irritation at the memory of his own hair in the mirror just a few moments ago. "Stop doing that," he grumbled.
Sirius grinned cheekily at him, his bright smile displaying perfect teeth. "Sorry, mate."
James huffed and grabbed his book bag. "I was saying, you shouldn't keep leaving Peter out like that. It's not nice."
The silence that followed caused James to spare a glance at Sirius. His face was dubious. "It's not nice?"
"That's what I said."
"Okay. Shall I invite him for tea then? We could sit together and knit, or braid each other's hair."
"Cute," James snapped, "Mock me all you like for being considerate of a friend's feelings, but I'm serious Padfoot, it gets to him."
"It gets to him, or it gets to you?" Sirius asked, rolling his eyes, "Because I don't see him complaining."
James shrugged. "It's a suggestion. Try being nice to him once in a while."
"Yeah okay, I'll give it a shot." Sirius said with the barest hint of sarcasm. He stopped in front of Remus' bed and scowled.
"What?" James asked.
"He left his scarf here again," Sirius muttered, grabbing the red and gold piece of cloth sprawled on Remus' bed and fingering it gingerly. "Stupid git."
"I agree, certainly one of his more egregious transgressions," James said with mock solemnity. Sirius buried his face in the scarf, inhaling like he was thinking very deeply about something. James wrinkled his nose. "Gods stop snogging his scarf. I swear Padfoot, sometimes you're so weird."
"What, so being nice to Peter is more important than saving Remus from a cold?" Sirius demanded.
James rubbed the end of his nose. Sirius was always touchy when it came to Remus. Innate protective canine instincts, James concluded. This had to be handled delicately. He hopped onto his bed so that he was face to face with Sirius. Sirius raised his eyebrow at him, leaning his head away a little. James gazed intently at him.
"Now I might be wrong, my dear, for the frigidness of midsummer Scotland inside a castle is definitely a thing to be feared, but I think that maybe, just maybe, your precious Moonykins can survive today without his scarf," James said. Then he added, because he couldn't help it, "Maybe."
Sirius rolled his eyes and shoved James away. James sat up on his bed and regarded Sirius, looking him up and down carefully.
"You've changed."
"You're one to talk," Sirius said.
James frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Sirius whirled around, feet planted apart, looking agitated and defensive and lost.
"You tell me. You're always with Evans, prancing around the school and making the world a better place. When was the last time you pulled a prank?"
"I don't prance," James said, peeved, "I just can't fool around as much as before. You know that."
"Why?" Sirius demanded.
"Because my badge would be revoked if I did!" James said in exasperation.
Sirius sat down cross-legged on his bed and gazed at James. He said quietly, "That sort of thing didn't matter to you before."
James blinked at him, and suddenly he felt a rush of annoyance, perhaps because Sirius was sitting there looking so much like a child that James felt ancient, or maybe because Sirius was right and there really was nothing he could do about it, so instead he said, "Well what did you think, that we'd stay twelve our whole lives? Maybe I have changed, but maybe we all need to. You know, grow up and all that."
Sirius was on his feet in a flash, a bundle of childish rage and clenched fists. "Nobody needs to change!"
"What's wrong with you? What happened?" James asked in surprise.
"There's nothing wrong with me," Sirius said bitterly, "Fuck, James, why should we change? What good would that do? Would it really be so bad if everything remains just as it is? Is familiarity so undesirable?"
"Shut up," James advised him, his head beginning to hurt, "Stop with this nonsense, it's too early in the morning. Go find Remus."
"And Peter," Sirius added sullenly, temper wilting as fast it had bloomed. James watched him stomp his way to the door in a whirlwind of energy and pent-up frustration and charming gaiety that was quintessentially Sirius Black. When he reached to door, James called out, "Tell them to bring me back a butterbeer when you get to the kitchens."
James sat where he was for a long time, mulling over their conversation.
The next morning as Sirius was walking down the Charms corridor on his way to the loo, he was suddenly and quite frighteningly ambushed by what he thought for a wild second was a very agile hedgehog. He later identified that it was James' hair that had, in fact, so rudely attacked his face.
"Bloody hell!" Sirius screamed as he was bodily thrown into an empty classroom. "Why the fuck am I being abducted? Do I look like Lily fucking Evans to you?"
"No," James replied unnecessarily, closing the door behind him.
"What are you doing? Why can't you talk to me from across a table like a normal person? Is this why you were giving me coveted looks at breakfast? Gods, you're creepy. Can I go to the loo now?" Sirius asked, shooting James a dark look as he got to his feet.
"No," James grinned giddily at him.
Sirius stared.
"How are you, Sirius?" James continued grinning with his lopsided glasses and hedgehog hair.
"Please don't hurt me," Sirius replied reflexively.
"Don't be stupid," James said, smile sliding off of his face. "Do you know why I brought you here?"
"Because you're a basket case?"
"No," James said, and Sirius wondered why in Merlin's name he was responding to that rhetorical question, "Something's bothering you, isn't it?"
"Er, you?"
James cocked his head, "You've been moping all week and I want to know why."
"I haven't been moping."
"Have to. What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Okay."
"Okay. Can I go now?"
James dropped to the ground in a cross-legged heap in front of the door and looked up at Sirius. "No."
"You've got to be kidding me," Sirius said, lowering his face into his hand in frustration.
James made a show of looking around the room before turning back to Sirius. "No."
"Move."
"No."
"Move."
"No. Why don't you take a seat?"
"Move . . ."
"No . . . you know, you're really bad at this," James said conversationally. His eyes, however, were fixed on Sirius's face and his hand was on the wand in his pocket, ready.
"Move," Sirius growled.
James rolled his eyes, "How's this been working for you so far?"
"I don't want to fucking tell you what's wrong," Sirius snapped, and James's hand tightened its grip on his wand, "Get out of my way."
James eyed Sirius warily as he stood with fists balled and shoulders tensed. "I'm pretty comfortable here, thanks."
He would crack, James knew it, any moment Sirius's patience was going to break, and he would unleash his legendary temper, and amid casting shielding charms and deflecting curses, James would finally get a wind of what was going on.
It wasn't so much bravery that James could claim fueled this self-destructive course of action, but an inborn lack of self-preservation which, by the way, over the years, he had made an effort to keep in check. That, and the familiarity of habit.
And of course, James knew the real secret—that Sirius broke stuff and threw hexes and cursed fit to make even James blush, but he would not intentionally hurt James, or even Remus or Peter. You just had to know how to handle Sirius. And handling Sirius was not a job for the frail of heart.
Which was lucky for James.
He and Sirius faced each other, sizing each other up.
Sirius closed his eyes. "You want to know what's wrong?"
James was taken by surprise. "Yes?"
"Okay." Sirius gracefully sank to the floor, an expression of resignation across his face.
"Okay?" James parroted blankly.
"Let's talk," Sirius said quietly.
James opened and closed his mouth repeatedly. He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair and all the while he stared at Sirius. "What?"
"You heard me." Sirius said calmly, reaching into his pocket.
James stared as Sirius's hand slowly disappeared into his robes. "Are you going to hurt me?"
"No," Sirius replied, pulling out his wand and tossing it to the side with a clatter. James stared at it in fright.
"What are you doing?"
Sirius cocked his head, challenging James to expect an answer.
"You're not going to hex me? Turn my hair purple? Smash every chair in this classroom?" James demanded.
Sirius shook his head.
"Why?" James sounded meek, almost petulant, his voice diminishing in size in tandem with his stature as he shrank in confusion.
Sirius might have been amused if he wasn't so bloody tired. He shrugged. "I don't feel like it."
"You don't . . . you don't feel like . . ." James spluttered, "Did someone die?"
"No. You wanted to know what's bothering me, right? Let's talk."
James squeaked in a very unmanly way. This was surreal.
"Okay," James said, because that's all he could think to say, "Okay. Okay. Talk, yes? I can talk. Hell, can I talk. This is . . . this is new. But that's okay. You can . . . we can talk."
James had no idea what to do. Maneuvering hurtful insults and cutting jabs was easy. Deflecting dangerous curses was a piece of cake. Physical fights and nasty brawls were a walk in the park.
But talking?
Hell.
Sirius wanting to talk about his problem was inconceivable, unnatural, apocalyptical. Something was very, very wrong if Sirius wanted to talk about it.
"Okay," James said weakly, "Okay. So. Talking. That would involve me asking questions and you answering, yes? Alright. That's easy."
Sirius, James concluded, had been turned to stone, petrified by the sudden tipping of the balance of the cosmos. He continued anyway.
"So. This problem of yours. Erm. Does it have anything to do with your family?"
It was a stupid question, and James knew it, because his family had long ceased to plague him ever since Sirius had severed ties with them last year. Everybody except—
"Is it Regulus?"
That was a much more plausible reason.
Sirius jerked his head once to the side.
James racked his brain for possible explanations. Maybe Sirius wasn't angry. Maybe Sirius was, god forbid, upset.
Horror dawned upon James.
"Is it a girl?"
Cue applause, James, he thought dryly to himself, it's like you don't know your best mate at all.
He did a double take when he saw Sirius hesitate.
"It is a girl?" James asked in disbelief.
Sirius took a deep, steadying breath. "Not exactly."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"There are . . . feelings involved," Sirius admitted reluctantly, drawing his knees up to his chest.
James took a moment digest this as he stared at Sirius. "So, you have . . . you have feelings for somebody?"
Sirius grit his teeth, obviously making as much an effort as James to keep up the conversation. "Yes. No. Yes."
Suddenly he made a noise of frustration and jumped to his feet, pacing ferociously, fists clenching. "I'm sorry, alright? I don't . . . I do, I think I do, but . . . I'm sorry."
"Stop!" James shrieked, hands on his ears, head spinning, "Stop!"
Sirius stopped pacing and gave James a quizzical look.
"Stop apologizing! You never apologize! It's unnatural! It's a heinous abomination! Haha! You apologized more in the last six seconds than you have in the last six years!"
"I apologized twice," Sirius pointed out.
"Exactly! In the same sentence!' James continued shrieking, hating how stupid he sounded and wondering how Sirius was able to remain calm when the world was obviously coming to an end.
Sirius sighed as if James was a petulant child and sat back down. There were a few moments of silence as James collected his wits.
"Have you told whoever it is?" James asked politely, eventually.
"No."
"Well, why not?"
"I don't think it would go well," Sirius said flatly.
"Did I miss something?" James asked in consternation at having to state the obvious. "The last time I checked, ever girl at Hogwarts was fighting for a chance throw herself at your feet."
"That's the problem," Sirius muttered, trailing off into a forlorn silence.
"You're afraid this person doesn't like you because you're too popular?" James asked in confusion, "Wait, do you fancy Lily?"
"No."
"Well then what kind of a broad have gone and taken a fancy to?"
"It's not a girl."
"No need to get cocky, a woman can fend off your advances without having her gender put up for questioning," James rolled his eyes.
"It's not a girl," Sirius repeated quietly, staring fixedly at the ground.
There was a long, revolutionary silence.
As a rule, James did not condone bigotry. He was committed to be accepting and tolerant of people different from himself, and he felt confident that his werewolf friend and his muggleborn girlfriend would drop kick him into the Great Lake if he were to behave as anything short of an exemplary ally. But while he did not heed most of the prejudices society harbored, he was, after all, a teenage boy, and there was only so much information he could process at one time.
James could tell Sirius was squirming from the corner of his eye, but he continued staring intently at a spot on the wall behind Sirius trying to untangle this web in his head. Sirius expressing a preference for men did not fully explain the situation at hand. James was confident that should Sirius make his availability known, he would have just as many men lined up outside of his dorm room. Nor had Sirius ever displayed hesitancy, shame, or embarrassment around others' displays of homosexuality toward each other or even toward him: Sirius was an equal opportunity flirt and welcomed positive attention regardless of who was bestowing it upon him. James recalled just two weeks ago when Sirius had successfully charmed the pimply clerk at Honeydukes into giving them an extra six pack of butterbeer for the price of one. No, there was something else going on here, some other variable that was throwing Sirius off-kilter. Maybe it wasn't just that Sirius fancied a boy, but rather, that he fancied a particular boy . . .
Sirius coughed loudly and something clanked against the hard floor, breaking James out of his reverie. James' eyes widened as he followed the path of the little bottle of purple liquid that Sirius had pocketed earlier as it rolled across the floor. Sirius snatched it up quickly and looked up at James, shrinking at James's expression of disbelief, realization, and humbling awe.
"Prongs?" Sirius croaked.
"Merlin," James breathed, "It's Remus, isn't it?"
Sirius went rigid, the world stopped spinning for one monumental moment, and then James found himself on the ground flat on his face as Sirius flew out of the classroom without a second glance, slamming the door behind him with resonating finality.
There was complete and utter silence. James didn't bother getting up, but continued to lay sprawled on the floor, staring at the wall as he tried to wrap his mind around this earth-shattering turn of events.
"Merlin," he repeated in awe, wondering how Sirius Black had once again managed to dig so deep and ruinous a hole for himself that James could not see any way out but for him to keep digging and hopefully emerge out the other side of the planet. "He is so fucked."