Three O'clock in the Morning

Three O'clock in the Morning

In the real dark night of the soul, it is always three o'clock in the morning. - F. Scott Fitzgerald

Friendship Is a Mutual Blackmail

Friendship is mutual blackmail elevated to the level of love. - Robin Morgin

"You fucking bastard!"

"Aaiii!" James cried, clutching his now bleeding nose.

Sirius took the time to politely close James' front door behind him before rounding on his former best friend again, catching him with another right hook. Luckily (or unluckily, depending upon one's view), James caught Sirius's fist before it collided with his face once more.

"What the Hell?" the bespectacled man exclaimed while trying to ward off Sirius.

"Why did you do it, James? Why?"

James pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and held it to his nose. The white cloth quickly stained a dark, angry red. "I think you broke my nose!"

"Did I?" Sirius asked, unconcerned. "It doesn't sound it. If I broke your nose, you wouldn't be able to speak so clearly."

James huffed and searched his pockets for another handkerchief.

"So, why? What was it to you?"

"What? Why what, Sirius? I haven't seen you in, what, a year and a half? Maybe a little more than that... And last time you attacked me, too!"

Sirius pulled back his fist again, slamming it into James. He had always been a very physical person, his every emotion showing through his body, and he was quite furious at the moment.

James stumbled backwards, arse over teakettle as the saying goes, still with one hand in his pocket and one at his bleeding face. "Arrmph!" he cried as he landed, the right side of his face slamming into a table, undoubtedly further injuring his already damaged countenance.

Sirius stood back, panting heavily from both anger and exertion. His former best friend took the interval to rise to his feet, clutching his stomach where Sirius had punched him.

The wizard finally took a good, long look at his current rival, his one- time friend. James still looked remarkably similar to how he had appeared when he was 21, only slightly older. His hair, though still thick and wild, was now touched with gray. His nose was leaving a thick trail of blood across his lip and chin, speckling his shirt with small flecks of red. His glasses, the same horned-rimmed style James had always worn, hung from his left ear, the nosepiece bent and the lenses sprinkled lightly with blood. Within a few hours, the side of his face would be decorated with bruises from his unintentional collapse.

Hmm, maybe a shiner would be nice to add to that, Sirius thought as he punched James again.

James, being the bright lad he was, had the good sense to duck, only his ear boxed, rather than receiving a solid punch to the eye.

"Jesus Christ, man!" James cried, lashing out with his fists and landing his left knuckles right into Sirius's chest.

The wind knocked out of him, Sirius stumbled backward until his backside came in contact with James's front door. As he braced himself against the hollow metal door, James's fists slammed into his chest again.

Grabbing James by the shoulders, Sirius knocked his left knee into James' abdomen, successfully catching James by surprise and cutting his air off his air supply. "You. Fucking. Bastard," Sirius repeated, his voice dripping with anger.

"What the Hell are you on about?" James moaned when he could breathe comfortably again.

Rubbing his bruising ribs, which were already quite sore, Sirius slumped against the door. "You, bastard. You told Lily that- that I didn't love her," the raven-haired wizard gasped.

James snorted and then immediately groaned in pain, clutching at his nose and stomach at the same time. "Well, you don't, now do you?"

Angry at the man's dancing blue eyes, Sirius punched him furiously in the shoulder. "You fucking imbecile, of course, I love her!"

James muffled a whimper of pain. "No, you don't."

"Of course I do!" Sirius shouted.

James laughed out loud this time, despite the obvious pain the movement caused. "How could you ever love Lily?"

"It's not that preposterous!" Sirius protested with as much energy as he could afford to muster.

James only laughed again, as if the thought of Sirius loving Lily was the most absurd joke in the entire world.

Sirius, pushed to the edge of his limit, pulled his wand out of his pocket, the silver wood shining in the dim light of the room. "Bastard," he repeated.

James dancing eyes widened, almost as if he, as Muggle born and bred, understood the significance of Sirius brandishing his wand.

"Conjunctiva!" Sirius exclaimed, the energy of his anger causing the spell to shoot from his wand white-hot.

James let out another cry of pain, this time gripping his eyes, obviously not understanding that touch only enhancing the pain inherent to the spell.

"Furnuncula!"

James was now screaming, though whether it was from the blinding pain in his eyes or the sores and boils that now decorated his skin, Sirius did not know. James struggled to rise, despite his bruises, boils, and blindness.

"Impedimenta! Locomotormortis!"

Deciding that James was suitably busy for the moment, bound to the floor and full of pain, Sirius stood over his former best friend, gripping his wand in his hand like the weapon it was. "Do. Not. Tell. Me. Who. To. Love."

James stared up at him, his pale eyes now of full of fear. He did not say anything, but his pale, bloodless countenance and bright, dilated eyes were enough to tell Sirius that James understood the message.

Sirius kicked James out of the way and, still rubbing his sore abdomen, left James's house, closing the door ever so politely behind him.

The raven-haired man who was walking briskly down the wooded lane, despite the drizzling rain and wind, shook his head, as if to dispel his thoughts. A stranger might have thought him a bit touched in the head, but his friends would have realized that Sirius Black was wrestling with a weighty decision.

"Bloody weather," Sirius muttered to himself, wondering why on Earth it was so chilly in the middle of August. "I can't hex him.... I can't trust him with that sort of thing..."

Thwack!

"God damn it!" Sirius exclaimed, clutching his eyes where the tree branch had hit him.

After he rubbed the rainwater and leaves out of his eyes and hair, respectively, Sirius looked about himself and realized he was quite lost. The street sign next to him read "Lockwood Avenue" and he knew that he had been walking along "North Terrace Lane," a very chic place to live, but, according the Blacks, anyway, also a place for the nouveau-riche. He had no idea where he was or where 12 Parish Hill was. What had he been thinking, taking off into the Scottish mist with no clear direction?

Then, silently thanking Merlin and Circe, Sirius caught sight of a young woman in a blue rain poncho1 walking her dog, a large German shepherd, in the rain. "Ma'am!" he cried. "Excuse me, ma'am?"

The person looked up, revealing a thin, but bearded young man.

Sirius blushed at his obvious mistake. "Sorry, sir."

"What?"

"Do you know the way to Parish Hill? I'm visiting... an old friend at 13 Parish Hill, but I seem to have gotten lost in the rain."

"Aren't you Sirius Black?"

"Well, yes," Sirius replied, flustered, wondering what his name had to do with finding Parish Hill.

"And you don't know where Parish Hill is?"

"I told you, I got lost in the rain."

The bearded man with the dog raised an eyebrow as if to say 'Sure, you got lost in the rain. And I'm a goat, too,' but he did not verbalize his opinion.

"Do you know the way to Parish Hill?" Sirius repeated, cursing himself for not asking Sasha or Regulus for directions.

"Keep going straight down North Terrace Lane until you reach Beacon Street. At Beacon Street take a left. Follow that until you reach Cemetery Road. If you follow Cemetery Road for a quarter of a mile, Parish Hill will be on your right."

"Left on Beacon Street, Cemetery Road, Parish Hill on my right," Sirius muttered, trying to remember everything the stranger said. "Thanks."

"Anytime," the dog-walker replied, as if strangers appeared out of the mist everyday asking for directions.

Sirius jogged to keep warm, as he had not brought a rain poncho or anything else waterproof and the Scottish rain was cold. He kept muttering the directions to himself, not realizing that he was drawing the attention of the few other people out and about on the streets. He moved more slowly when he reached Parish Hill, surprised to see what a nice section of town it was. It was not as nice as where he and Regulus and Remus lived, but it was certainly a step above where the Grangers lived. From the stories he had been told about James, this came as a slight shock.

When he found number 12 Parish Hill, Sirius began to mentally chant, 'I will not punch James when I see him, I will not punch James when I see him...' Then he knocked on the door.

"Hold on," a masculine voice called from within the house.

And when James opened the door, Sirius burst into tears, much to the shock of both James and himself.