Priceless

"Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?"

We're here now, the two of us, alone in a crowd, the only ones who know the truth of what's going on. You have just discovered it, and me, well I knew all along, alone in my truth - who could I tell?

So the two of us are isolated in the middle of a circle buzzing with shocked murmurs from bystanders. They have no comprehension, no small clue to understand the scene before them, like children set a test on a lesson they have never been taught.

We stand facing each other in silence in the middle of the street, a twisted scene from one of those cowboy games children play. I suppose someone looking on would say all this was just a game to me too, but it runs so much deeper than that. Deeper than anyone but we could understand, and you never tried - it was easier to ignore me or dismiss that I could be anything other than what you saw on the outside.

That was more your problem than mine of course. You always had a palpable arrogant air about you that no-one could reach through, to tell if there was in fact anything else beneath that cocky demeanour. Only three of us knew there was more to you than self confidence and looks to carry it off - James Potter, Remus Lupin, and me. James was just like you, if not more so. Remus saw only the good in both of you, your support of him effectively acting as rose-colored lenses. And me, well, I could never bring myself to care much - it was an unwritten code. You didn't care particularly how I felt inside, and I returned the same indifference without much effort on my part.

We continued that way from our very first year at Hogwarts. The phrase 'start as you mean to go on' could never have been truer than in our friendship. I sat in the carriage with you on the train that first year, and neither of us spoke to the other, in a semblance of silent camaraderie that was really more a gap neither of us could be bothered to bridge - we never did. We simply continued the way we had began, happy not to acknowledge anything beneath the surface and make things deeper than they needed to be.

Your friendship with James was truer than ours, no deeper but with more understanding than there was between us. Between the two of you, you managed to catch the attention of half the student body, who were either infatuated, infuriated or both, with you. In public, your lives revolved around pranks and girls, and in private, what mattered? You were so rarely on your own that what you really were didn't count for much.

It doesn't count for much now either; what you really are. As far as anyone here is concerned, you're the guilty one of us, and what everyone thinks now is all that counts.. And I suppose you are to blame really, if only in the sense that you're the only one blaming yourself for this. You convinced James to let me betray him. I only finished what you started with your self-doubting uncertainty, which anyone who thought they knew you at school would have said was out of character. I only did what you had trusted me to do - stand by my allegiances. Although perhaps, they weren't the ones you'd been expecting.

The whole basis of our friendship could be defined by that. You all took my silences as agreements, and I was assumed loyal to you purely based on my lack of action, faithful or otherwise. I was a devotee because I had not said anything to the contrary, innocent until proven guilty.

Well, now you have your proof. So what am I guilty of? Betrayal, or indifference? Betrayal is generally reserved for those who had something there to give away in the first place - what we had was mainly built on unvoiced and unquestioned theories. The theory that I was there for more than just a lack of anyone else. The theory that I would never take advantage of you because you helped me.

It was taken for granted after we learned to be Animagi that we all did it out of friendship with Remus. I did it along with you and James, and for that my motives were never questioned. Who would think that I had gone to all that effort for a friendship that meant nothing? And who would see behind it to realise that that was what I wanted everyone to think?

You can see it now, I know. I can see that in the way your mask to the world - a face of confidence in your own abilities - falters. Ironic - I've just revealed you for all to see as what you really are, but no-one is looking. The real you is still hidden behind my own accusations. They think I've just revealed you as a murderer, and betrayer of your friends. What they don't see is the expression on your face - hurt, insecurity and a self-loathing that no-one would ever have expected from you, and it's priceless.

It's a proclamation

Of the things you aren't

The ways you wish you were

A split second

Perceiving of the way you really look to every one of them

All your efforts to maintain your self-assured image and all it took from me was a few simple words of accusation, that had more effect on you than anything I ever said between our silences at school. I could laugh, but I won't - I can see the bitter amusement reflected now in your eyes and know you've reached the same conclusion.

This is the first time we've ever stood in silence and actually understood one another completely, and I'm about to walk away from it. Priceless.