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Sirius x Reader / Remus x Reader -- Part XI

Bloody hell, my loves, I think I wrote and rewrote this part about 40 times, but here it is. It's probably the biggest segue yet, and I truly hope it doesn't disappoint.

It was around 6,200 words last I checked, for those who want to know, and as always, please let me know what you think! And if I've forgotten anyone on the tag list!

<3

Tag List: @ideas-nocturnas , @evyiione , @a-hopelessly-imaginative-girl , @xetherealbeautyx , @intense-sneezing , @peasantview , @la-fille-en-aiguilles , @toasterking , @too-involved , @onthebroadway , @comebackanothertime , @hfflpffs-shit , @actually-a-tree , @ilistentotayswifttocope , @ohhowthetableshaveturnedd , @justducky0423 , @idontknowwhattodowiththissorry , @00slayer , @hellerscape , @loraleislysiren , @sunandmoonchild158 , @dreamsofbrightstars , @whimsicallymad , @write-i-do0 , @yuptha-tsme , @anna-of-highlands , @findzelda , @kaqua

"Prongs, where's the map?"

James made sure to continue looking decidedly groggy and disinterested as he brushed his teeth.

"Dunno. Ask Moony?"

"I did, he says he doesn't have it. And Pete doesn't have it."

"Well, clearly I don't either," James said, turning from the mirror to lift his arms as he stood in front of Sirius wearing nothing but a towel.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Don't think I'd put it past you."

"To what, clamp it between my arse cheeks? I said I don't bloody have it."

"So if I were to look in your trunk..."

"You say that as if I don't know you already did. And has it occurred to you that Y/N might have it?" James turned back to the sink and began washing his face, still carefully maintaining his air of nonchalance. "She said something about needing to make amends with Evans for last night. Maybe she's going backhander shopping at Honeydukes."

That seemed to satisfy Sirius. He popped James lightly on the back of the head before making his way out of the bathroom.

"Prink faster, will you? I'm Marvin."

"We can't all roll out of bed looking like Godric's gift to women. Some of us have to work at it."

James towelled off and took a breath. He didn't like lying to Sirius. But then, he wasn't technically lying. You did have the map. He just left out the minor detail that you were holding it for him till the weekend so he could use it to spy on Padfoot. He may have neglected to let you in on that detail as well.

Once back in the room, James evaluated the overall mood as he dressed. The mess around Peter's bed was growing by the minute as he added the contents of his trunk to the floor in search of his left shoe. Remus and Sirius, meanwhile, were laughing about the unfortunate haircut Alice had given Frank that Frank refused to set right for fear of hurting her feelings. James gave his own hair a good tousle and hoped this wasn't his lot in life now -- blokes with girls talking to blokes with girls about other blokes with girls, while he and Pete just wandered around in the background, looking for their left shoes.

"Fuck's sake, Worms, you'd think we weren't literally at magic school right now," Sirius said as Peter raked another pile of parchments, comics and socks out of his trunk. "Accio Peter's left shoe."

The shoe in question came flying from behind Peter's bedside table. Sirius caught it and tossed it to him.

"Now can we please go to breakfast? If someone's taken all the good scones before I had a chance to take all the good scones, I'm having Fortescue give you all haircuts."

"If you'll recall, I warned you this was going to happen. You forgot the second 'N' in 'Rennervate'."

"I do recall."

"And I told you I wouldn't help you if you didn't get it done last night, didn't I? You need to mention the Shield Charm in that paragraph."

"You did tell me that."

"But you never listen, do you? Add a few foreign translations. 'Sersemlet' in Turkish. 'Desmaius' in Spanish. 'Stupor' in German."

"I absolutely never listen."

"I'm sorry to be so harsh, but I just hope you've learnt a lesson this time," Lily concluded as you rolled your Charms essay. You hoped you looked properly admonished, since the only thing you'd learnt was that you could always count on Lily to compulsively help you finish your assignments, even while in the midst of telling you she wasn't helping you finish your assignments.

She sat down on your trunk as you finished packing your bag, and you could practically see your lecture running through her mind. She'd let you off the hook last night with a terse "let's just get some sleep", but now she looked every bit the mum about to give her daughter the "birds and bees" talk. Oh, Godric... she wasn't about to give you the "birds and bees" talk, was she?

You were slightly relieved when she seemed more concerned about your method of exit last night.

"That's a hundred-foot drop, Y/N."

"I had a Whizzbee."

"Which transitioned when from a sweet to a safety device? And I saw what he did with the broom -- diving when he knew you weren't even properly hanging on yet."

"I've done more than my share of Wronski Feints, Lily, we play Quidditch. We're perfectly comfortable in the air, and--"

"I know you've an answer for everything," she said, cutting you off, "but I just want you to think about something for one second. Really think about it: What would've happened if something went wrong and you got hurt?"

"He wouldn't have let me," you said simply.

"Do you honestly trust him that much? I know he'd never hurt you on purpose, but you have to admit, he doesn't tend to think things completely through."

"Lily, I know you don't like him, but is it really so awful not to think everything to death? I've been doing naught but thinking since term started, and where's it gotten me? Confused, stressed, attracting hideous amounts of unwanted attention, and extremely bloody sleepy."

"It's nothing to do with liking him, it's to do with understanding him a bit better after yesterday. It would seem he's being backed into a corner. And as I recently learned you're all part-time animals, I'm sure you can see where I'm going with that."

"If you ever find Sirius Black attacking his way out of a corner -- boy or dog -- it'll be because he's pinned his friends behind him and is trying to protect them. That's one thing it'd actually be great if you could understand about him, Lily. He can be an utterly selfish git, yes. He'll take all the good scones, he'll jump all the queues, he'll buy the last Bad Company shirt in the shop even though he knew how much you wanted it..."

"Still hurts, does it?"

"It will always hurt." Bloody hell, you'd wanted that shirt. You nearly decided to just end on that note and let Lily go on thinking the worst of the lousy shirt thief.

"Anyway, he's a git. But when it's something really important, he's also the most selfless person I've ever known. And yeah, I'd trust him with my life."

Lily looked you hard in the eyes until you crossed yours. She rolled hers and grabbed her bag off her bed.

"Fair enough. You've all made it this far without being expelled or permanently dismembered, and that's more than I'd have put money on. Ready for some mediocre scones?"

"Just you watch -- every one of them's going to be lemon," you sighed, joining her on her way to the door. "Oh, and Lily? I'd trust James with my life, too."

"I wouldn't trust Potter with my third toe."

"Oh, well that I wouldn't do either, he's got a bit of a foot fetish."

"And there goes my appetite..."

"More mediocre scones for me then!"

The week was a somewhat dull blur of Quidditch training and Lily demanding you focus on your schoolwork because in case you and the Marauders had forgotten, this was, in fact, an educational institution and not your own personal playground of wayward debauchery.

The Marauders continued forgetting.

Monday's swearing-chalk stunt was a great success -- you'd even caught Lily giggling a few times as Binns floated by, droning on about the Goblin Rebellion of 1752, completely oblivious to the torrent of obscenities his blackboard was unleashing. For an encore, however, they challenged Peeves to see who could come up with the most rude rhymes for "Snape". Considering it took him a full two days of recitation whilst chasing Severus through the halls before he ran out of limericks, Peeves was the clear victor. But Lily was decidedly less amused by that prank, meaning you, Marlene and Emmeline had to spend all your free time placating her with revision sessions to stop her setting anyone on fire.

Elsewhere, Hogwarts had managed to weave a fascinating tale around you, Remus and Sirius, not a single portion of which was true.

Apparently, you and Sirius had been secretly dating since fourth year. Or had been bethrothed since birth, depending on who was telling the story. But a "volatile relationship between two people who are clearly mad as hatters", as you overheard one seventh year put it, "well, it was just doomed from the start, wasn't it?" Lovely. Anyway, all that doom boiled over when Sirius discovered Remus had taken you on a "clandestine" (publicly clandestine?) Hogsmeade jaunt, and your and Sirius's fight was followed by an all-out brawl between Sirius and Remus in the Marauders' dorm, which Sirius won. Or Sirius had challenged Remus to a duel, which Sirius won. Or in one particularly interesting version, Sirius had pushed Remus off the Astronomy Tower, which obviously also counted as a win. And now, you were either furious with Sirius, furious with Remus, or furious with them both, and everyone was waiting with bated breath to see what happened next.

The fact the three of you were currently taking your tea with James and Peter with nary a hint of conflict seemed to mean nothing to anyone.

"The thing that gets me is, I lose in every single version of this rumour," Remus complained, shooting a hand out to snatch the last Bourbon away from Pete. "Not one person at this entire school could come up with a single scenario where I win?"

"Well, you're clearly quick," Peter frowned, settling for a Ginger Nut, "so I can't see you just hanging about and letting Padfoot chuck you off the tower."

"So... I successfully run away instead?"

"Well? It's not a loss."

"I'd win a bloody duel. Y/N, I'd win a duel, right?"

"Nah, you play too fair. Sirius would cheat."

"Excuse me? You mean I'd be too creative to be limited by the parameters of mundane rules."

"Six of one. Oh, Remus, don't look like that. Tell you what, I'll have Marly start a new rumour. You and Sirius decide how you'd win."

"He challenges me to a swot-off?"

"How about I challenge you to sod off?"

"Now, now, Moony, the real issue here isn't that you're losing, it's that I'm winning in such completely uninspired ways. No one wants to lose a boring old dust-up. But what say you to losing a flying motorbike race whilst being pursued by a rogue dragon?"

"I say you've finally gone all the way doolally? Flying motorbikes don't even exist--"

"Yet."

"Fine, yet, but if we're to've raced them, they sort of need to exist now. Meanwhile, I've still lost..."

"There's an X factor in this version, though. What if you were neck and neck, and then bam, in comes the dragon, and you're knocked off course as you narrowly dodge the vicious snap of its gaping jaws?"

"See? She gets it."

"That's not a comfort. But if that's the case, then it should be a draw on the grounds of dragon interference."

"Can I just interject to ask where I am in all of this? As if two of my best mates would be battling over another of my best mates and I wouldn't be there to referee or provide moral support or witty commentary?"

"You're where you always are: asleep in the common room," you smiled at James, and as the lads laughed, you noticed Lily standing a few yards away, looking at the lot of you like you had three heads apiece.

"See you in DADA. Don't be late," you said around the last gulp of your tea before moving to intercept Lily. She still wasn't quite over the Snape ("the oily snake, who shampooed once just by mistake, and his hair turned to mush like a sodden cake"... yeah, you'd had that one stuck in your head for days) incident, and you didn't need James to lose any more points by saying something Jamesy.

"You really are all absolutely mental."

"It's basically a survival technique at this point. What's going on?"

"I can't find Marlene anywhere. She has my DADA notes, and I want to get to class early and start on the new chapter. Do you know--"

"Who would actually win a swot-off against Remus? Yes, I think I do."

"Cute. Do you know where she is?"

"Let me step into this cupboard for a moment and I will."

"Let you...? How is that going to help?"

"Just wait here and don't open the door."

You didn't know what James was up to this weekend that would require you hiding the map, but you were glad to have it. There was a little errand you'd decided needed running, and as you looked over the names that slowly materialised, you reckoned now might be as good a time as any.

It took you a few minutes to spot Marlene in one of the empty classrooms on the fifth floor. Before you could wonder what she was doing there, you noticed another name quite close to hers: Duane Morgan. Merlin, Marlene. But actually, that might just work. Best of British to them, anyway. You gave the map a quick salute before tapping it with your wand and whispering "mischief managed".

"She's in the fifth-floor empty classroom next to the Boris statue," you told Lily as you exited the cupboard and headed for the main doors. "Knock first and don't act shocked to see Morgan."

"Morgan?! Y/N Y/L/N, what did you just do?"

"The less you know, the happier you'll be!" you called over your shoulder.

It was overcast and windy out, and you buried your face in your robes as a cold gust sent leaves swirling across the grounds. You hadn't thought much about what you wanted to say, and that was just as well. Saying too much seemed to be what always led to friction when it came to him and the Marauders. The two of you, on the other hand, had maintained an odd sort of respectful civility by keeping your infrequent interactions brief, polite, and to the point.

You rounded a corner and found him sitting with his back against a large stone atop the slope that led down to Hagrid's hut, using it to block the wind as he read. As you quietly approached, you could make out the dust jacket: The Eagle Has Landed. You'd seen a review in Remus's copy of the Sunday Times last week. Brand-new Muggle novel about basically good people being forcibly recruited by the Nazis to do something bad. Undoubtedly a gift from Alphard. You hoped beyond hope that Alphard's influence was taking root in there somewhere amongst the noxious weeds his parents sowed.

"Hello, Regulus."

In the swift hands of a fellow seeker, the book vanished into his robes, but he relaxed when he saw it was you. He let out a small breath of what you assumed was relief and laid the novel in his lap as he peered up at you.

He didn't have Sirius's looks, but he was growing to be striking in his own way. If only he didn't look so... repressed. Even without that pompous expression he wore whenever he was around his Housemates, he was a bit too pale, a bit too drawn, a bit too dour. Like a plant that had been denied proper sunlight for much too long.

Whereas Sirius had overcome his environment, Regulus was a clear product of it. He simply looked like what he was: an unhappy boy with no true friends, not thriving or having fun or looking forward to life's adventures but just going through the motions of a rigidly scripted existence. And accustomed to having to hide his few joys from virtually everyone he knew.

His eyes -- not grey like his brother's but a misty blue that put you in mind of a hazy day on the ocean -- were slightly wary now. You'd been regarding him a bit too long, and you needed him at ease for this conversation.

"To what do I owe the--"

"Rapturous pleasure of my delightful company?"

A ghost of a smile. So far, so good.

"Before we get to that, it's helpful to keep a few decoy dust jackets about for when you don't want people minding your business. Dull titles that have to do with maths and such. Remus and I have plenty; I'll owl you a few."

"Really? I'd... that is, that would be greatly appreciated. Thank you," he said stiffly, but the look on his face gave him away as pleased. Time to get to the point.

"I've come to ask a favour. I don't know what's expected of you when it comes to your parents, and I'd never pretend to. But if there's any way you could just play dumb from here on out when it comes to the topic of your brother's... romantic pursuits, that would also be greatly appreciated."

You'd expected him to be combative, to tell you to keep your nose out of his family's affairs. You were surprised, therefore, to see him looking more apologetic than anything.

"I didn't give them a name, I swear. I honestly thought they'd be glad. He'll be of age next month. They want something settled, and every time they've spoken to him about it, he's said... well, he..."

Regulus blushed and looked down at his book, so you finished for him. You'd heard Sirius say it often enough, and frankly, it never got less funny.

"He's said he'd shag his way through the entire East End twice before he wasted a perfectly good ring on the finger of those shop mannequins playing at girls their jumped-up society friends birthed?"

The ghost of a smile took full form this time, and you grinned back.

"Yeah. That. Anyway, I thought they'd be relieved to hear that he seemed to be genuinely interested in someone. But if you're here, I take it they're not. So I won't mention it again. And if they ask, I'll tell them I've heard it didn't work out. Is this agreeable?"

"It's agreeable. Merci, Monsieur Noir."

He smirked at you, and you felt the usual regret. There was still time for Regulus, but it was running out with every expectation he lived up to and every rule Sirius broke.

"Y/N?"

"Oui?"

"I'm not out to get him, you know. He thinks I am. I don't like the way things are any more than he does, but it's just the way things are. He has responsibilities. We both do. But... he's my brother, and I love him," he said firmly, but his expression was hesitant, as if he had just admitted a shortcoming. "If you could... perhaps not in those exact words, but..."

"I'll give him your best, Regulus."

"Please do."

You turned to walk away but were stopped short by something he'd said.

"Hey, when you say you didn't give your parents a name... does that mean you have a name to give?"

He seemed genuinely perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know who it is? The girl Sirius is interested in?"

Regulus looked at you as if unsure whether you were having him on or not. You supposed it was a surprising revelation, him knowing something about Sirius that his best mates didn't, but you weren't opposed to finding out this way if you had to. Sirius might have his reasons for keeping this under wraps, but you had no plans to break his trust. You just... needed to know. You needed the peace of mind of knowing that this girl wasn't the type who might hurt him. He'd been hurt enough.

Unfortunately, Regulus didn't look like someone about to divulge information.

His face was the picture of pure surprise now; his mouth had even fallen open a bit. He looked, for once, like a regular 13-year-old boy -- and sounded like one, too, when he breathed: "You mean you honestly don't know?"

"I don't, but just forget I asked. It's none of mine anyway, really."

"Well, it's sort of... wow. Yeah. Best not, actually. It's not my place."

Damn.

"No worries at all. Thanks again for the favour, and I'll send those jackets off tonight. Until our next covert chat!"

You turned back one more time as he stood, fastidiously brushing bits of grass from his robes.

"Take care, alright, Regulus? Also, I'm easy to find. Should you ever need to find someone."

"You take care as well," he said quietly, avoiding the overture. As always.

"So despite the great personal risk to my toes, I'll come up and get it. Just slide it under your door at midnight. That way, we can be sure no one sees you making the handover."

"This is all extremely Avengers, isn't it?" you asked, shoving your Quidditch gear into your locker. "Any particular reason?"

"Yes."

"Git."

"Aaargh, Y/N, don't make me feel bad about this. There's just something I need to check on. The lads don't know either, and I swear I'll tell you first if it turns out to be anything important. Deal?"

"Fine. 'You can keep your secret for the present, if you want to be mysterious.'"

"Tolkien!" Remus shouted as he flung the changing-room curtain aside. James laughed. He looked like a magician making a particularly dramatic stage entrance. It was good to see him so at ease.

"So Prongs has a secret?"

"Yes. I'm MI6, undercover. I trust Her Majesty's Secret Service can rely on your discretion."

"Git."

"See?" you gestured. James stuck his tongue out at you and decided it was time for a diversion.

"What're you up to, Moony? Come down to watch the old ball and chain practice?"

"I always watch practice, you div."

"Hadn't occurred to me to ask till now, but tomorrow's Saturday. Going to Hogsmeade again, are we? Nudge nudge?"

"We're all going to Hogsmeade together, like normal," you answered, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Yeah," Remus said, lifting the bag off your arm and onto his own. "Once everyone gets bored of the rumour-mongering, we'll try another proper date."

You gave Remus a sunny smile as he held the curtain back for you, and James realised with dawning horror that Remus Lupin was about a mile fucking smoother than him, and he was bloody well gaining on Sirius, for that matter. Never had he thought he'd be looking to the lad who'd come to Hogwarts terrified of his own shadow for lessons on how to impress girls, but he might do well to start taking notes.

The three of you made your way back to the castle together and got cleaned up for an uneventful dinner. Around ten -- after several remarks about James's "power-mad march towards tyranny" -- Sirius declared himself exhausted and turned in early. James had run a particularly strenuous practice with just that outcome in mind. Remus's second-favourite activity behind reading was sleeping, so he wasn't far behind Pads, and Peter followed the majority, as usual.

There were a few sixth and seventh years still knocking about in the common room at midnight, but they were all focused on their books or conversations, and no one noticed when James slipped up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. With the map safely beneath his shirt, he headed up to his room. Everyone was asleep, and he undressed quietly before sliding the map under his pillow and climbing into bed.

He'd hoped his tired body would drag him right off to sleep as well, but his brain had other ideas. Was he doing the right thing? Sirius was his best mate, and it stung a bit that he hadn't talked to him about this relationship. James hadn't been two minutes separated from the realisation that he fancied Lily before he was regaling Sirius with his plans for their future. He'd naturally assumed it would be the same when Padfoot finally set his sights on a girl. And he'd been blindsided when -- in the space of just a few days -- he'd gone from preparing for that conversation to be about you to wondering who the hell had turned Sirius's head so quickly.

He had to know James would keep his confidence. So what was it? Was she a Slytherin? Had he actually developed feelings for one of the snobbish birds his parents had been forcing him to socialise with for years and was too embarrassed to say? Or was he embarrassed of James instead -- afraid he'd say something offensive or do something daft? Was this his method of getting over you? Had he resigned himself to an arranged marriage and decided to make the best of a bad situation by snogging his intended at every opportunity?

It took some doing, but James finally quieted his inner monologue and, along with it, the fear that he was planning to follow Pads out of nothing but petty nosiness or wounded feelings. Things had not been going well for Sirius of late, and he was worried about him. All of you were worried about him. It didn't matter to James who this girl was -- so long as she was a good person who was treating Sirius well. Once he knew that for certain, he could relax and let everyone's love lives fend for themselves.

He closed his eyes as the clock chimed two. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.

Breakfast lasted a week. Everyone got ready for six months. The walk to Hogsmeade was a decades-long pilgrimage for bloody butterbeer.

By the time the five of you had settled into a booth at the Broomsticks for lunch, James was convinced he'd be old and grey -- but still ridiculously good-looking -- before Sirius ever departed for his post-Hogsmeade date tonight. Not even watching a mildly tipsy Evans giggling with Vance, Fortescue and Macdonald a few tables over could cheer him up. Well... maybe it cheered him up a bit.

At least a distraction presented itself when McKinnon walked in with Morgan.

"How long's that been going on?" Peter asked. McKinnon had spotted you and was trying to pull Morgan back out the door. From the look on her face, James guessed she hadn't mentioned to you that she was seeing him.

"Not very long, I don't think," you answered. Morgan had spotted you as well now and seemed pretty adamant about coming in. That couldn't be good.

"She didn't tell you, did she?" Remus asked, having also noticed that Marlene looked as if she'd sooner leap into the fireplace at this point than be here. Morgan signalled for a pair of butterbeers and chose a table directly in your line of sight. That couldn't be good either.

"No, but there's no reason to. He wasn't my boyfriend, we just went on a few dates. Last year, even."

"Well, someone should tell him that before McKinnon runs out of oxygen," Sirius said, nodding towards their table. Morgan was almost comically over-snogging the girl, pausing only to occasionally glance over to see if you were watching.

"Godric, poor Marlene," you sighed. "What an arsehole."

You turned and exchanged a look with Evans, who seemed to be trying to decide if she should go over and interrupt. Before she could, Sirius's fingers flicked ever so slightly in Morgan's direction as he pretended to scratch his nose. Suddenly, one of the butterbeers Rosmerta had just set on the table tipped over, drenching Morgan's trousers.

He leapt up, cursing his way to the loo, and you and Evans descended on McKinnon, who was on the verge of tears. Once you'd convinced her she'd broken no sacred bonds where you were concerned and Evans had insisted she spend the rest of the trip with the girls, you returned to the table. James watched as you mouthed a quick "thank you" to Sirius, who tried for an innocent expression before giving up and winking at you.

After that, the group split up for the rest of the afternoon. You and Remus disappeared to the music shop, and Peter headed back to Honeydukes to try to chat up some bird he had his eye on. James and Sirius, meanwhile, elected to partake in one of their favourite forms of entertainment: donning the cloak and terrorising third years at the Shrieking Shack.

They'd just successfully sent a group screaming back towards the castle when you and Remus strolled up, large smiles on your faces.

"I thought that one kid was going to faint dead away when you were tugging on his robes," you laughed as James pulled the cloak off the two of them.

"Just a few more satisfied customers!" Sirius grinned.

"Of some future therapist," Remus added.

"The onus is on us to keep the 'shriek' in Shrieking Shack, Moons," James said, noticing with relief that twilight was finally creeping over the trees. "Do we need to round up Pete?"

"We saw him leaving with those Hufflepuffs," Moony said, shaking his head.

"Was he using the 'my uncle manages the Rolling Stones' story again?" James asked, cringing a bit. You bobbed your head.

"You'd think he'd have come up with a new one after he told it to that lass last year whose uncle actually did manage the Rolling Stones," Sirius mused.

The four of you made your way back, boisterously singing Stones tunes the whole way, and after a quick dinner, Sirius excused himself and was gone. James decided to bide his time and was rewarded for it. Evans's group returned and joined yours at the Gryffindor table, and -- still relaxed by the butterbeer -- she included James in her cheerful chattering as if she'd been doing it for years. By the time everyone decided to head up to the tower, he was practically glowing. Maybe he wouldn't spend his life looking for his left shoe after all.

As the Hall thinned out, you and Remus hung back to congratulate him on not being persona non grata to the object of his affection for once. He told you to go on without him, saying he was going to do a bit of spying on Pete, who still had the Hufflepuff girls on the hook in the first-floor corridor. It wasn't a lie; he listened in from beneath the cloak until Peter started assuring them he could procure tickets to the Rolling Stones concert of their choice. That boy's lying was becoming a problem.

James headed back to the ground floor and found a quiet corner wherein he could spread out the map. Taking a deep breath, he whispered the words.

He scrutinised every nook and cranny in the castle, every tucked-away little alcove or dead-end space in a rarely used corridor where two people might sneak off to be alone. And while he discovered quite a few apparent trysts he'd never have predicted, what he didn't find was Sirius.

He'd developed quite the headache by the time he decided to try the grounds, and that's when he finally spotted him. In one of the greenhouses. Personally, James found the greenhouses to be more hideously disturbing than romantic at night, but to each his own. He adjusted his glasses and steeled himself to read the name alongside Sirius's.

Only... there wasn't one.

Shit, had he missed her? He looked quickly for dots that might have recently entered the castle from outside and found none. James pounded his fist on the floor in frustration. He'd never be able to keep the map away from Sirius for another week. He should've just left the Great Hall when Padfoot did, but he'd been too caught up in Evans treating him like a human, and now he'd blown the whole thing.

He was folding the map in defeat and preparing to go up to bed when the penny finally dropped.

Fuck.

He hadn't missed Mystery Bird; she'd never been there at all. She'd never been anywhere at all because she didn't bloody exist. Sirius had made her up. To avoid the conversation you were trying to have with him the night of the party. To protect himself after you agreed to a date with Remus. So that you wouldn't find out he'd stood aside for Moony and would instead think he'd already been interested in another girl.

That stupid fucking and yet still somehow rather impressively selfless idiot.

The main doors appeared to open and close on their own as James took off for the greenhouses. There was a very slim chance he could still be wrong, but the pieces had fallen too perfectly into place. He'd forgotten which greenhouse Sirius had been in amidst the shock of his revelation, but he finally found him in the third, slumped against a stack of potting-compost bags, a half-empty bottle of firewhisky beside him. He was either asleep or unconscious, and James lit his wand in order to examine the ground around him. Only one set of footprints.

"Pads," James said loudly, and Sirius jolted. He tried for a moment to scramble to his feet but couldn't find purchase in the dirt. Dropping back against the compost, he raised the bottle of whisky towards James instead before taking a long drink.

"Sirius, what the hell are you doing?"

"Dating."

"Dating? Well, I must say, this is not at all as advertised, and I have to wonder now why everyone's so bloody interested in doing it."

"Was dating. Date's over."

"Ah. When did the date end?"

"Five minutes. Just missed her."

"That's interesting, because I had the map out five minutes ago--"

"I fucking knew you had the map, you lied to my--"

"I didn't lie to your anything, Y/N did have the map till last night. So as I was saying, I had the map out five minutes ago, and I couldn't seem to find a name anywhere in the vicinity of yours."

"Okay, ten minutes."

"I had it out ten minutes ago, too."

"Twenty then, what do I know, I'm drunk, and you did lie. If she had it, then you gave it to her just so you could do this. I can't believe you--"

"And I can't believe you. You couldn't just tell me you'd made it all up? Me?"

"Made what up? So she left before you got the map out, so what, it's none of your fucking business, James."

"You made up a girl because you were afraid Y/N was going to tell you she--"

"What does Y/N have to do with anything. She's with Remus. She belongs with Remus."

"Did you honestly think I wouldn't understand? And did you think she wasn't just as scared as you? It took a lot for her to walk over there that night, Pads, she--"

"I can't help it if she thought she was... whatever she thought she was. She was wrong, she got it straightened out, and that's it. And it's good luck she did, too, because... because I don't even think of her that way. Never have."

"Oh, really?"

"Really. She's a friend, that's all. A good friend. So just drop it, will you."

"So it wouldn't mean anything to you if I were to tell you she--"

"Leave it, for fuck's sake!!"

"Sirius, she loves you."

"She doesn't. She loves Remus."

"Sirius..."

"I don't love her."

"Sirius."

"I can't love her, James..."

His voice broke, and he crumbled. James had seen Sirius cry before over the course of their friendship. But they had always been angry tears. Furiously storming out of the Potters' fireplace after a row with his parents, defiantly swiping a sleeve over cheeks that were wet with disgust and shame and resentment, not sadness.

James suddenly had a very startling picture of just how terrifyingly powerful love could be as he dropped to his knees and pulled his sobbing friend into his arms. Sirius's entire body was heaving, and James did his best to hold him steady until it stopped, not having a clue what else to do in that moment. What he did know was that he and Sirius were long overdue for a talk. But not now, and not here.

When Sirius's misery had given way to the occasional shuddering sigh, James gently helped him to his feet.

"You can't tell her, Prongs... swear to me you won't tell her."

"I won't tell her, I swear. But mate, you need to tell me what's going on. Everything that's going on. And then we'll go from there. Alright?"

Sirius nodded as James grabbed his upper arm for support, and the two turned to leave before James had a thought.

"Let's just take this with us, shall we," he said, bending to grab the liquor bottle. "The last thing I ever want to see in my life is a Venomous Tentacula that's gone and watered itself with firewhisky."

There was a pause, and then they both erupted in laughter. The boys were still howling as they staggered into the secret passage behind the ivy and had to stop midway through just to let the mania wear off before they got themselves nicked.

James took in a heavy breath as he pulled off his glasses to wipe his face. Crying, laughing, love, pain, fear, worry, hope... and all in the space of about five minutes.

Growing up was fucking mental.

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