Always the Best of Friends

It wasn't that Sirius Black tried to break the rules of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. He actually tried not to most of the time to save himself from his mother's wrath. But every so often, he did something he shouldn't do and it was only because the rules were sometimes so stupid and ridiculously easy to break. It was for this reason that he woke with an embarrassing start in the drawing room when something slapped his face. Momentarily hating himself, not only for the embarrassing way he awoke, but also for getting caught in his father's expensive lounge chair, which was simply off-limits-completely-and-one-hundred-percent to a blood traitor like himself, Sirius slowly opened one eye and peered around the room. He was more than a little relieved to see his charcoal colored owl perched on his knee rather than his mother. The mental image of his mother sitting on his knee made him want to throw up slightly.

Sirius snatched up the letter resting on his chest, the cause of the offending slap upside his face. Glaring at the owl and wondering if at times the bird wished to see him lying dead, he stood quickly, causing the animal to take flight with a screech of annoyance. "It serves you right," Sirius told the owl matter-of-factly. "I'm going to have a mark from that." To prove his point, he pushed his shaggy black hair off of his forehead and showed the bird the nonexistent mark. The owl, who recovered by fluttering onto the arm of the chair, stared solemnly and wide eyed. Sirius glanced at the letter in his hand- it was from James, of course, they were always from James- and then crossed his arms over his chest, studying the chair with a critical eye for any sign that he had sat there. A quick attempt at smoothing the dented leather and then he was off, the owl perched on his shoulder as he headed for his bedroom upstairs. He purposely slammed the doors behind him, making a bold statement of sorts that he had just done something he shouldn't and that he had even gotten away with it, and his mother's respondent screamed insults float up the stairs, but Sirius ignored all of that. He was used to it, after all, and it was nearly as normal to him as breathing was.

James Potter was Sirius's best friend. James was spoiled, good-looking, talented, smart, sociable, conceited, athletic, a show-off... in essence, James was annoying. But he was also wonderfully loyal, and caring, and even protective of his friends at times. He was even mature and artistically thoughtful, though usually only in private. Mostly, he was simply James with the ridiculous hair and that was all Sirius needed. The two had corresponded the entire summer holiday and they had covered every topic from the month of February to James's catastrophic weekend spent painting his bedroom. Sirius's fingers traveled around the edges of the wrinkled envelope as he thought about James, a lopsided grin spreading across his face.

Sirius was, of course, completely banned from having any sort of contact with the disappointing and traitorous James Potter. His parents viewed every witch and wizard from Muggle descent as being the scum of the earth- nothing more than stains on the perfect wizarding community. Muggles were better off with their own kind and had absolutely no business whatsoever in the wizarding world, that was Sirius's parents' view. And nearly as bad as Muggleborns were the traitors- the pureblooded families who did not support this view, but rather embraced the Muggles and treated them kindly. The Potters were a prime example of a traitorous family and thus, Sirius wasn't supposed to associate with James. The Blacks, after all, had an image to keep- a reputation to uphold.

Sirius shut his bedroom door quietly behind him. He didn't care about the stupid reputation or any of it. His friends were his life now and they had been his life ever since he was sorted into Gryffindor rather than Slytherin. While his own family had turned their backs on him and openly mocked him as a disgrace, his friends had accepted him without asking any questions. The "James-Potter-Is-Off-Limits" rule was the one rule of the Black household that Sirius continually broke without a care for the consequences.

Ripping open the letter and sitting down at his desk, Sirius pulled a piece of parchment out and began to unfold and read it. James's tall, thin, and slightly slanted handwriting was splashed hastily across the page just as Sirius had expected it would be. The two, having exhausted the topic of the possibilities for their school's caretaker, Argus Filch, and Madame Pomfrey to get together, had moved on to simply insulting each other. Their playful banter had gone back and forth all day and Sirius knew that his owl, Spud, was just lucky that James didn't live too far away, though he wondered if this may be the reason behind the feeling that Spud would prefer him a corpse. "A gormless troll-faced parasite," Sirius murmured, half amused and half surprised that James had been so predictable. He spared a thoughtful glance at the owl, deciding whether the bird would take another delivery without causing him harm. After a moment of silent thinking and a reassuring check that his wand was in his pocket, he pulled a drawer out and removed a quill and fancy ink bottle.

Nice try, James. You almost had me with the troll-faced part, but I am sure you will be happy to know that I have recovered enough to inform you of your status as a dim-witted mandrake-sucking flobberworm, his quill scratched across the parchment. Your friend, S.B.

He began to fold the parchment and when Spud noticed this, the bird warily backed away and fluttered to his cage as if making a statement that he would not be going out again tonight.

"Oh, thanks, mate," Sirius said suddenly, as if the owl had reminded him of something, and then he unfolded the letter again. He absently dragged the soft, feathery quill across his face as he thought for a moment. P.S. Meet me at the brick wall in the northeast corner tomorrow.

Satisfied with this, Sirius folded the parchment once more, copied where to meet onto two other pieces of parchment, and then dragged Spud out of his cage. "I'm sorry, mate, but this last note's important. One for Remus and one for Peter as well, got it?" He tied the letters to the bird's leg. "Stay with James tonight, he can bring you to the station tomorrow." Sirius mentally acknowledged that this would allow him the last word on their insult war, something very important to him as James usually came out on top in everything they did. Spud glared at him for a moment as if he wanted nothing better than to peck Sirius's eyeballs out, but then he suddenly spread his wings and soared out of the open window without a backwards glance.

Sirius watched the bird disappear through the trees for a moment before he sighed and turned to his bedroom door. Dinner was served in the Black household every night at exactly six-thirty and Sirius had only seconds to make it in time or else sit through another lecture of how worthless he was, not something that he wanted as he had just heard the lecture at breakfast that morning. Again, he didn't try to break the rules, he truly didn't, but it seemed like it just happened when he was around, as if he was somehow cursed to break rules for the rest of his life.

He trampled down the stairs like a madman, leaping over some banisters and sliding down others, sounding like a herd of elephants, and he finally scooted into his chair just as the food began to appear on the table, earning a look of loathing from his mother. She was clearly hoping he would be late so she would have an excuse to scream at him even more. Sirius pleasantly folded his napkin in his lap and acted as if he wasn't aware that he was nearly late. Their house elf, Kreacher, began to serve each of them, saving Sirius for last, of course, but Sirius didn't care.

As the rest of the family usually ignored him when he was around, Sirius slipped off into thought. He and his younger brother, Regulus, had always been brought up to know how horrible Muggles were and why Muggleborns were such a hindrance in the magical world. How unfair the Ministry of Magic was for employing Muggleborns when pureblooded wizards struggled to find work. Late at night, when he was all alone and before he was old enough to attend Hogwarts, Sirius would lie in bed and wonder about the things his parents said. It never seemed to make sense to him; he couldn't see Muggleborns as being as horrible as his parents insisted they were. These doubts became the foundation for his rebellion- the reason he was different from other Blacks. Why he wasn't a Slytherin and why he was a disappointment.

When he went to Hogwarts and was sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin, the traditional Black house, Sirius's entire world crashed down around him. Up until that moment it had been easy to hide his doubts simply by not voicing them, but once the Sorting Hat placed him, it became painfully obvious that he was not like the other Blacks. That was when it all started- the hatred with which he was treated in his own home, the insults, the ridiculous rules. And it wasn't only at home; even within the school he was rejected by his peers- fellow Slytherins that he had grown up with and known through his parents. It was James who approached him to be friends and that was after initially being rude because Sirius was a Black.

Sirius tried to hide his smile at the thought of his best friend. James in all his mischievous, crazy-haired, bespectacled glory. The start of something wonderful for Sirius, an intimate friendship, a family. James quickly knew everything there was to know about Sirius and he bestowed upon Sirius his own beliefs and thoughts. James yearned after a certain Muggleborn but he never was able to get the feisty girl. He hadn't given up yet, though. It was James who really showed Sirius that Purebloods were no more special than anybody else was; that they weren't immune to falling down or anything of the sort.

"Are you all packed for school tomorrow, dear?" Sirius looked up at the sound of his mother's voice, but she was not addressing him. She spoke to Regulus instead and did not spare even a glance for Sirius, despite the fact that he was also going to school the next day.

"Yes, mum," Regulus mumbled, glancing apologetically at Sirius. At one time, when Sirius was still a welcome addition to the family, Regulus would often sneak into his room late at night and accompany him in his thoughts and doubts of their parents' beliefs. When Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor, he held out hope that Regulus would follow in his footsteps upon his own arrival at Hogwarts, but was disappointed. Regulus became a Slytherin, apparently pleasing their parents more important than standing up for what he believed in. As time went on, Regulus seemed drawn deeper and deeper into the way of the Blacks, and now he and Sirius generally did not get along as they had when they were young children. Regulus became the golden boy, the second chance after the "Sirius-Screw-Up," and Sirius became ignored and not talked to or about.

Despite all of this, Regulus did attempt to not flaunt his status in the family in front of Sirius's face while at home. He knew that Sirius had it hard enough at home without himself rubbing his better treatment in. It was for this reason that Sirius continued to hope that Regulus might one day abandon his current ways. Regulus still seemed to have a good heart, even if he was only out for his own gain. James hated Regulus with a passion, something that bothered Sirius slightly.

"Regulus, speak clearly and sit up straight," Mr. Black advised. Regulus immediately squared his shoulders and Sirius rolled his eyes. His father saw this and growled at Sirius, "I had better not need to remind you, boy, you better stay away from Mudbloods and Muggle lovers. Do you hear me?" Sirius nodded mutely, but rage boiled within him at the dirty words his father used to speak about his friends. "I don't care if you are in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff or what have you, you still have the Black family name to uphold and I expect you not to cause us any more shame than you already have." He waved a piece of steak on his fork as he spoke and then he turned to Regulus. "Regulus, I want to hear it if he's hanging around that Potter freak."

"Yes, sir," Regulus answered, this time in a clear voice and with a straight back, but his eyes once again met Sirius's. Sirius looked away and gripped his fork so hard, he thought he might break it, despite the fact that it was pure silver. His other hand was clenched under the table and he dug his fingernails into his palm to stop himself from lashing out against his father. The one thing Sirius hated more than anything else was when his family insulted James. He didn't mind when he himself was insulted, but James was everything to him. His saviour, his family, his friend. His life. James was the one who defended him, or who put him in his place when he needed it, or who simply sat in silence at his side. James was the best person Sirius knew and he simply couldn't just sit while James was insulted.

Sirius stood abruptly, nearly knocking his chair over behind him. He robotically excused himself from the table and marched upstairs, his expression rigid. This time, he was careful not to slam the door and he desperately reminded himself that this was his last night in the house and in the morning, he'd be back with his friends again, back where he mattered and no more stupid dinners and rules. Extending a hand shaking with suppressed rage and just a hint of stress, he opened his desk drawer once more, this time pulling out a pack of cigarettes. It was a habit he had only recently picked up. Nobody knew about it and he intended to keep it that way. James, in particular, would be disappointed in him. He opened another drawer and grabbed a bundle of saved letters before he strode over to the still open window and sat down on the ledge, dangling one leg outside as he brought the cigarette to his mouth and lit it.

As he thumbed through the letters and photographs sent by his friends, his anger and frustration slowly began to diminish. There was James with Remus, flashing a winning smile and wiggling his eyebrows for the camera. Remus gave the camera a panicked look; James had a death grip on his arm, keeping him from moving out of the frame. And there was Peter with his family smiling cheekily around the dinner table; his mother was ill, but in this picture she looked alright, as if everything was as it should be. And letters, tons and tons of letters. He had saved them all, even the short little notes from James containing little more than a one worded remark, and the longer ones from Remus, the ones where he explained boring scientific theories for Sirius's quirks and corrected Sirius's poor grammar in preceding notes.

Two of the letters from Remus were documenting the outcomes of the recent full moons. Remus was a werewolf and once a month was forced to go into painful transformations. He became a monster. For the past three years, Sirius, James and Peter had been striving to secretly become animagi. From the moment that James had had the revolution that the bite of a werewolf was ineffective on anything other than a human being, they had studied in all of their free time. It was an incredibly difficult thing to accomplish and nobody their age had ever done it, but they were so close that Sirius could smell it. Remus, of course, would never allow them to if he knew of their plans, and it had been hard work keeping it a secret from him.

Sirius stabbed the cigarette into the window ledge until it stopped smoking and then tossed the butt outside. He watched it fall three stories to the earth where it bounced slightly and came to rest beside the half-smoked corpses of others, unseen and hidden by dark shrubs. Then he sighed, brushed his hands off on his trousers and stood, surveying his bedroom in anticipation. He absently brushed the hair off of his forehead and bent to pick up the school robes strewn across the floor. His school books were stacked on his desk and quills and ink bottles littered the room in various areas, the result of his attempt at homework without Remus by his side. He threw everything inside of his trunk and then pulled his wand out of his pocket. He fingered it lovingly, excited to use it again after over two months. Students were not allowed to do magic outside of school. Finally, he sighed and placed that in his trunk as well. He glanced around the room once more to be sure he wasn't forgetting anything. His hand hovered over the pack of cigarettes he had tossed on his bed earlier. Instead of throwing them in his trunk, he tossed them back in his desk drawer. As he would be among what he considered to be his true family soon, he would no longer need them. No, no, on second thought, he pulled one more out of the pack and set it on the window ledge. Just in case he needed it in the morning.

Sirius pulled his robes over his head and let them fall to the ground in a heap. Even at home, he had to wear wizard's robes as his parents always expected him to look presentable. Aside from that, there was no way they would tolerate Muggle clothing in their home. It was still early, but he climbed into bed anyway figuring that the sooner he fell asleep, the sooner the morning would come.

It was several hours later when a soft tapping at his window woke him up. He lifted his head off the pillow and peered blearily through the glass. The stars sparkled merrily at him and the moon, still nearly full though it was waning, shone brightly above. And fluttering about the window was a small snowy owl. Calla.

James had named the owl after the calla lily, a fact known only to himself and Sirius. It was a clever way of naming the bird after the girl that he adored, the Muggleborn, without actually using her name. It hadn't been the owl's original name, but James had changed it to Calla shortly after encountering Lily Evans for the first time. Sirius couldn't even remember what James had originally called the white owl.

He shoved his blankets back and got out of bed. The floor creaked beneath his feet as he pushed open the window. "Oi, Calla," Sirius called. "What are you doing?" Calla hooted softly and flew in to land on Sirius's shoulder. She clamped a letter in her claws and held one foot out to Sirius. He placed her on Spud's cage and gently pried the letter away.

Sirius,

Do you think a flobberworm is a step up or step down from parasite?

Always the best of friends,
J.P.

P.S. Damn you, Sirius. You told Spud to stay here, didn't you? The ruddy owl refused to take this to you so I had to send Calla. Keep her and bring her with tomorrow. I'd think it was getting too late for you, but I know better. Thought you'd get the last word, yes?

By the way, he nearly ripped my ear off. Not so good for my glasses, mate.

James

Sirius grinned, shook his head and folded the letter, opening his trunk once more to add it to his collection. He gave Calla a few of Spud's owl treats and then went back to bed, marvelling that only James would send a responding owl at eleven at night just to get the last word. That was James, though. Annoying.

~*~

The house was utter chaos when Sirius awoke the following morning. His cousin, Bellatrix, arrived by Floo. She would be going with them to King's Cross train station as she was starting her seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Sirius lay in bed as long as possible, but had to get up for breakfast, which was served at eight every morning. He and Bellatrix glared at each other from across the table. His parents had conveniently sat her in the seat beside Regulus, apparently afraid that sitting near Sirius might somehow taint her. Mr. Black asked her about her parents, her father being his brother. Sirius's mother hopefully asked her about her older sister, Andromeda. Sirius liked Andromeda, she was always kind to him, the only one in the family aside from Regulus, if what Regulus gave to him was considered kindness. Sympathy, more like, Sirius knew, but it was still better than the way his parents treated him. However, Andromeda had shamed the family by marrying a Muggle and having his child and so she had been disowned and blasted off the family tree. Mrs. Black, though, still held out hope that she would return to her upbringing. Andromeda had been sorted into Slytherin, after all, and thus she was not as hopeless as Sirius was.

As had happened every year, an official Ministry of Magic vehicle arrived at the mansion to pick up the three students and Mrs. Black. Mr. Black was able to secure a car for them every year with ease, given their status in society. Sirius spent the trip to the station miserably being prodded in the ribs by Bellatrix and Regulus while his mother pretended not to notice. He didn't dare lash back in front of her, so he simply set his jaw and stared stubbornly ahead, refusing to react even when Bellatrix gave him a particularly hard jab, though in his head he uttered every curse he could think of.

Before the car had even pulled to a stop in front of King's Cross, Sirius had leaned across Regulus and flung open the door. He trampled his brother on his way out of the car and slammed the door in Regulus's face. Their astonished driver, who had by now gotten out of the car to open the door for them, apologized profusely to Regulus, apparently under the impression that the door had closed on its own. Meanwhile, Sirius had already opened the trunk of the car and yanked his luggage out. He hauled it quickly through the station, not stopping until he reached platforms nine and ten. Glancing around to make sure nobody was watching, Sirius took a deep breath and casually leaned against a brick column in between the platforms.

The last thing he saw was his mother, Bellatrix and Regulus approaching. Regulus looked annoyed and Sirius felt better slightly. And then the wall seemed to close around him and they faded away, they and all of his problems were gone at least until the Christmas holidays. At the same time, the magical platform, platform nine and three quarters, opened up to accept him. It was already crowded and Sirius dragged his trunk quickly, looking around for any sign of James, Remus or Peter.

Several girls called his name and waved or smiled. Absently, Sirius gave his usual cocky half-smile back, but he was more interested in locating his friends. He fought his way to the corner of the platform and was almost convinced that he was the first there when he caught sight of a sandy-haired boy sitting with his back to the wall. A book was open across the boy's lap, but he wasn't reading. Instead, an amused expression fluttered across his face as his eyes following something back and forth within the crowd.

"Alright, Remus?" Sirius called as he approached. He dropped his trunk in astonishment as he drew near enough to actually see Remus's face. "You..." he started, but then thought better of it and said nothing at all.

His friend looked paler than usual and dark circles huddled beneath his eyes and all of it made the scars on his face stand out rather brilliantly, Sirius couldn't help but notice. Remus regarded Sirius almost guiltily and his lips drew back into a tight, crooked smile, a smile that warmed Sirius from the inside out and allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief at finally being away from his family. It also told Sirius that perhaps Remus didn't feel as bad as he looked, and though Sirius didn't voice it, that was a good thing because Remus more or less looked like death.

"It's very noticeable, isn't it?" Remus asked. He absently ran a finger over one of the scars on his face and his eyes went back to lazily moving about the crowd. "Bugger. I look like... like a corpse. Do I?" Remus bit his lip as he waited for Sirius's response, his chocolate eyes darting away from the crowd and coming to rest on Sirius's grey ones.

"Do you?" Sirius asked, taken by surprise.

Sirius's avoidance of the question seemed to confirm Remus's fears and he groaned slightly, holding his head in one hand. "And I've eaten all of my train chocolate, too," he murmured miserably, looking forlorn and pathetic enough for Sirius to pat his pockets in search of a bit of chocolate. Not that he ever carried chocolate around with him, but he half hoped that a piece would magically appear in his cloak.

"I think James might have some, maybe, or Peter, perhaps," he offered finally, but this didn't seem to improve Remus's mood. Remus's eyes continued to float back and forth across the crowd and Sirius was beginning to feel as if he were missing out on some big show. He turned and surveyed the mass of students, searching for what Remus saw.

"Might have what?"

It was James. Sirius looked up and grinned at the sound of the voice just in time to see one of James's bags hurling towards him. He caught it just in time, but it still knocked the breath out of him and he uttered an "Umph!" in protest.

"Alright, Moony?" James used Remus's nickname, one that he had earned because of his werewolf condition. He glanced at Remus, squatted to click his tongue at Calla, as Sirius had brought her along with him, and then did a double-take, gazing at Remus again..

"Fine. Good." Remus blushed under James's sudden scrutiny, and when James didn't look away, he muttered, "Ate all my chocolate," and then his blush deepened.

James laughed and ruffled Remus's sandy hair; Sirius grinned and basked in the warm sound of it, he hadn't heard the glorious noise since the previous school year. James's laughter practically sang that everything was good; it was a wonderful thing. And then it was gone and Sirius met his eye, his own smile fading.

"What about you, you tit? Alright?" James asked, and he grinned as he spoke but Sirius could see sincerity and concern in his hazel eyes.

"Alright," Sirius agreed. And he was.

James clapped him on the shoulder and peered at the crowd, using his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. "What were you lot staring at?" he asked. Sirius glanced at Remus for the answer as he hadn't figured it out yet.

Remus snorted and nodded off to the right. "He's been at it for the last fifteen minutes or so," he remarked casually.

Sirius's eyes searched in the direction Remus and indicated, and there, he saw it. Peter. The last of them, his third friend. While the other three were tall and slim, and even, in Remus's case, gangly, Peter was shorter and slightly thicker. But Peter had a ton of personality; he was the jokester of the group and usually the first to pull a prank. Additionally, everyone seemed to like him because he was incredibly friendly. He wasn't afraid to laugh at himself. Today, though, Peter wandered the crowd aimlessly, obviously searching for them and not seeing them at all..

"About thirty tree times," Remus remarked. "That he's passed by, I mean."

James snorted and nudged Sirius with his elbow, grinning. "Hopeless, innit?" Sirius nodded and made a mumbled blab of agreement, a noise that didn't really sound like much of anything, but James didn't pay attention. He cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered, "Oi! Peter!" and then Peter froze suddenly, as if he had heard the voice but didn't want to look like he'd heard it in case he hadn't really and it was all in his head. He gave a cautious glance around and James responded with a very obvious two-armed-high-above-the-head wave, which worked because Peter cracked a smile and hurried over.

"What took you lot so long, I've been here forever waiting," he declared as he dropped his trunk and wiped sweat from his brow.

"Bull, we've been here," Sirius insisted. "I told you to meet us here. You've been wandering that crowd for the last fifteen minutes, mate."

Peter blushed, both from being caught in the lie and from being watched as he wandered around lost. After a brief pause in which he seemed to struggle with whether or not to be angry, he demanded, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"No hard feelings mate. But you were putting on a good show!" Sirius grinned and flinched away from the swift kick that Peter aimed for his leg. "Mate, no need to get violent, you know?" he laughed and James joined in.

"Do you know, I saw you there the whole time!" Peter declared in an attempt at redeeming himself. "It wasn't that I was wandering looking for you, rather, I was wandering looking for somebody else I could sit with instead."

"Yeah, yeah," James muttered, pulling Peter into a headlock. "You're nearly as utterly hopeless as Remus, mate. And that's saying something, because Moony is hopelessly beyond hopeless."

"Indeed," Remus agreed with a nod of his head and a raised eyebrow.

Peter struggled against James's grip, but finally emerged grinning. "Well. At any rate, they're boarding the train now if we want to get a good compartment."

"No rush, we can just haul some firstie out like we do every year," James said airily, but he stood and picked up his trunk anyway.

Sirius and Remus stood also. "Yeah, unless they fling their books at you like Moony here does, you mean."

"Shut up, Sirius. That was an accident!"

Sirius's smile spread across his face. This was where he belonged. Life was once again as it should be.