July 27, 1995

James once told him that true friends could sit together in silence, and, in the end, agree they'd had an excellent conversation. At the time, he'd looked James squarely in the eye and told him that he was daft. How could it be a conversation if no one said anything? In fact, it reminded him a bit of when his parents were furious about something and the silence was just better than the screaming. That wasn't exactly the image he wanted of friendship.

Sitting silently in the kitchen beside another childhood friend and nursing a glass of some of his father's finest firewhisky made him rethink his quick actions in writing off James's theory so long ago. Sirius smiled slightly to himself as he sipped at his drink. It was good to have friends again. He'd known, of course, during those years in Azkaban, that he was alone. Now that he was sitting beside his closest living friend, he was hit with just how alone he had been, and how much he appreciated the friend currently sitting with him.

"Do you think we did Prongs proud?" Remus asked softly, breaking the silence.

Sirius nodded. "If there's a heaven, I'm sure he's looking down from there and applauding us."

"To Prongs, then." Remus held out his own glass of firewhisky.

Sirius clinked his glass against Remus's and took a quick drink. The alcohol burned going down and he blinked three times in rapid succession. Beside him, he heard Remus give a little cough. Hard alcohol and Remus never mixed well. Sirius briefly wondered what people would think if they learned all those stories about werewolves having an incredible tolerance for liquor were false. Actually, he wondered what people would think if they learned of some of Remus's finer moments at the hands of firewhisky. Until the day he died, he'd never forget the night Remus had gotten them into a spot of drunken trouble in a seedy part of London – a night in which things went from troublesome to bad to worse far too quickly – and how James had to come bail them out of it. Looking back, it seemed like James had done that a good deal. When had James become the responsible one? The one they counted on to rescue them and to fix things? Somewhere in there, he had.

"He got it, you know," Sirius remarked, staring at his glass. "Prongs did. He understood it better than I ever did. Better than anyone, probably."

"How to trash someone's room?" Remus asked, a touch of amusement in his voice.

"No. Friendship." Sirius reached for the bottle of firewhisky and topped off his drink. "Never met someone more loyal, more giving. He really would have died for us, you know."

"I do." Remus accepted the bottle offered to him and topped off his own glass. "Maybe it's selfish, but sometimes I think he went after Severus that night more to save me than to save Snape."

"He did," Sirius told him. "You avoided most of our rows about that, but as someone who participated in them, trust me, that's why he did it." He'd never seen James so furious. Yes, James Potter would fight to the death to try to keep someone from hurting one of his friends, even if he'd once called the person he was fighting a friend. He always took on whatever risks necessary in order to protect the people closest to him – and did so up to the very end, when he stood between Voldemort and his family. Sirius was silent for a moment. "You know, some of them thought it was me."

"Thought what was you?"

"The traitor. A couple of the members of the Order weren't too sure about me. I overheard one of them telling James to keep me at arm's length, to remember that blood is thicker than water. I sometimes wonder if that's why James insisted on me instead of Dumbledore." And what a wonderful decision that had turned out to be.

Remus said nothing for a long time as he occupied himself with his firewhisky. Finally, he set his glass back onto the table. "No one trusted anyone. Voldemort was very good at sowing seeds of doubt amongst his opponents."

"No one trusted anyone," Sirius repeated, "Yet we all trusted him."

"Of course we did," Remus's voice became very matter-of-fact. "He was one of our best friends. You don't expect your best friend to…." He trailed off. After a moment, he silently returned to his firewhisky.

"No, say it," Sirius said bitterly. Most people didn't expect their best friends to betray them. He wondered what that said about him, about how he measured his friendships. He'd been so certain it was Remus. So sure. Remus had been distant, had given the sort of half answers and half-truths he gave when he was hiding something. They all knew there was something he wasn't telling them, and they all assumed the worst. All of them, except… "For the record, Lily never lost faith in you."

"I wouldn't have blamed her if she had," Remus replied calmly. No, he probably wouldn't have. Remus was always expecting people to lose faith in him, to abandon him. "I don't blame any of you."

"You bloody well should." Sirius slammed his glass onto the table. "We were supposed to be your friends, Moony."

Remus just shrugged in response. "It's in the past, Padfoot. Just let it stay there." He paused. "I've made peace with it." Of course he had. Remus made peace with everything, whether or not he should. Remus sipped at his drink before adding, "And with you. Please. We've been down this road. We can't change what happened; we can just move forward."

He sighed, knowing he couldn't fight Remus on this. He'd already tried and failed on several occasions. If James was the loyal one, Remus was the accepting one. Sirius wondered which one he was. The hotheaded trouble causing one? The one people trusted one they shouldn't? The one whose bright ideas caused friends to be placed in mortal peril? "I am sorry, Remus."

"I forgave you when I learned the truth, Sirius," Remus replied softly. "And I meant it."

They were silent again, each lost in their own thoughts. Sirius sipped at his firewhisky, walking through the what ifs in his mind again. Twelve years in prison, two years on the run…they never left him.

"For what it's worth," Remus broke the silence, "Thank you."

Thank you? Sirius turned his head in surprise to look at the man sitting next to him, unable to think of a single reason he deserved gratitude at the moment. "What?"

"These past few months…it's been difficult. I know I wasn't the easiest person to deal with." He sipped at his drink as if they were calmly discussing the weather instead of bearing their souls. "You didn't give up on me, and I appreciate it."

Sirius shook his head slightly, feeling a small smile work its way onto his face as he heard what wasn't said even louder than what was. He couldn't name a moment where he'd actually deserved the friends he had; for some reason, in spite of that, they seemed to be quite difficult to get rid of. "Well," he tried his best to sound just a little flippant, "I did have an ulterior motive, you know. I really don't want a – what is it, again?"

"Stodgy old curmudgeon," Remus offered.

"Yes, I didn't want a stodgy old curmudgeon as a housemate. I mean, I already have the crazy old bat in the hall and her insane little helper sneaking about doing who-knows-what. There's only so much insanity allowed in this house, I'm sorry to say." He rocked his chair back on two legs. "I'm happy to see you've been cured of your curmudgeon-ness." Sirius took a sip of his drink. "Oh, and that you aren't writing me poetry about Nymphadora, because, mate, I don't think I could take another summer like that."

"Whatever did happen to Abigail Learth?" Remus asked, pointedly ignoring the barb about Nymphadora. "I've always wondered, but I never tried to look her up."

"Last I heard, she got hitched right before Harry was born," Sirius told him. "Just think; it could have been you. If only you'd sent her that poetry you wrote about her."

Remus groaned. "How much will I have to pay you to get those letters back?"

"Too late, Moony, they're already gone." He grinned and reached for the firewhisky bottle again.

"You destroyed them?" Remus sounded hopeful.

"Of course not." Sirius glanced over at him and went for the kill, giving him a wicked smile. "I gave them to Nymphadora."

The color drained from Remus's face. "You didn't."

He started to laugh. "Of course I didn't. They're all safe and sound in my little hidey hole. If it means that much to you, we can burn them later. I may be a lot of things, Moony, but I'm not a complete bastard."

There was a crash from upstairs. Ah, the twins were awake, and it sounded as if they'd just found the nice little present left for them by the Marauder Fairy.

"Well," Sirius amended, setting his chair back on all four legs. "I'm not a complete bastard when it comes to my friends. Or at least, I try not to be. When it comes to annoying little gits, on the other hand…"

Another crash sounded upstairs, followed by the sound of a door being slammed open and angry, thumping footsteps on one of the landings.

"It appears our young houseguests have woken to discover our redecoration scheme," Remus remarked happily. "More firewhisky?"

"I'm good, thanks." Sirius waited and listened. Another door slam, then loud voices. In the hall, his mother's portrait began to scream. He ignored it. Let the old bag howl away.

"You know," Remus said thoughtfully, as if they were still sitting in relative silence and talking about serious, life changing matters, "I don't think I'll ever forget you re-introducing me to your mum." He shook his head, then launched into a very accurate imitation of Sirius several weeks earlier. "'Hey, Mum, this werewolf followed me home. Can I keep him?'"

Sirius laughed. "Yes. That was inspired, wasn't it?"

There were footsteps pounding down the steps, and, in the hallway, Ronald could be heard yelling at the portrait.

"No, not inspired, but it was humorous nonetheless," Remus replied.

"Fair enough." Sirius clinked his glass against Remus's. "Let's drink to that."

As they sipped from their glasses, the door to the kitchen swung open, admitting Fred and George. It was everything he could do not to start grinning like a fool. The twins were fuming, covered from head to foot in stink sap and several other wonderfully disgusting things.

It was one of the most beautiful things he'd seen in the past year. The only way it could possibly get better would be if it had happened to Snivellus. Or Molly.

Rocking his chair back on two legs, Sirius surveyed their handiwork and blew several strands of hair from his eyes. He glanced over at Remus, "Why, Mr. Moony," he feigned surprise, "What do you suppose we have here?"

"Well, I can't be certain, Mr. Padfoot," Remus nursed his drink as he rocked back in his own chair, "But I believe we have two amateurs who fell victim to a very nefarious plot."

"I wouldn't go so far as to call it nefarious, Moony," Sirius remarked. "I'd just say these unfortunate young men were gotten by their betters."

"Couldn't say it better myself, Padfoot old friend." Remus extended his glass towards Sirius.

He clinked his glass against his friend's and took a long drink from it before smugly returning his attention to Fred and George. The twins' expressions of outrage were gone, replaced by shock. Sirius grinned, "What? You didn't think we had it in us?" He shook his head and imitated the clucking noise Molly used to express her disgust. "Honestly, gentlemen," he laid his free hand over his heart. "You wound me."

Fred opened his mouth but seemed to be unable to find words. His mouth opened and shut several times without making a sound.

"You know how I'm the stodgy old curmudgeon?" Remus commented. "Well, I believe you're supposed to be the angry brooding ex-con, a person highly unlikely to have the slightest idea of how to have fun."

"Now, Moony, I was only angry and brooding because you decided to ban fun," Sirius protested jovially.

"A brief moment of insanity," Remus assured him. "It won't happen again."

George made a little squeaking noise. He raised his right hand to point at Remus. "You?" The finger jerked to the side to point at Sirius and he repeated, "You?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yes, us. You didn't think it was Ginny, did you?"

George's voice went up another octave, his face still one of complete shock. "You?"

"No," Fred whispered, finally finding his ability to speak. His face had gone completely white.

Okay, this was getting a bit strange. While he'd expected some surprise from the twins, it should have been the short lived my-pride-took-a-hit shock, not the absolute shell-shock the two boys were currently exhibiting. They looked as if every truth they held about the world was instantly shattered into a million pieces. Cocking his head to the side, Sirius exchanged a glance with Remus.

His friend took it from there. Clearing his throat, Remus set his chair back on all four legs, placed his drink on the table, and calmly folded his hands together in front of it. "Are you two alright?"

"You're Moony?" Fred asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "But, but…you were a professor!"

Remus's face split into a large smile. "Very good, Mr. Weasley. Two for two. Take twenty points for Gryffindor," he remarked.

Sirius grinned as everything fell into place. So future generations of Hogwarts students knew of the infamous adventures of Mssrs. Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs. James would be proud. They'd always hoped to one day become Hogwarts legends, especially James. Their last night in the dorm, the two of them laid awake talking, listening to Remus and that-other-roommate snore while discussing their legacy. "Lily would be horrified if she knew," James had remarked, "But I rather hope that I'm remembered more for the trouble the four of us got up to than for anything I did on the Quidditch pitch." Sirius had completely agreed with the sentiment. Now, years later, it looked like they succeeded. He raised his glass towards the ceiling. This one's for you, Prongsie.

George made another little squeaking noise.

Fred turned to look at Sirius. "And you're Padfoot. I, I, I don't believe it…."

"You're my heroes!" George suddenly blurted out before Sirius could respond to Fred. "Ever since first year! I've wanted to be you!"

Remus looked as surprised by the outburst as Sirius felt. "Well," Remus found his voice first. "I can honestly say that's the first time anyone's ever said that about me."

"Now, Moony. You have a lot of characteristics people consider heroic," Sirius commented. "Let's see. You're probably the bravest bloke I know, you can be downright wicked when you want to be," he began to count on his fingers, "You're good at casting an impression of innocence so people never suspect you – I still want to learn how you do that, you know. Let's see, what else…"

"Sirius, a moment, please." Remus interrupted his list and turned to the twins. "Out of curiosity, how do you know about Moony and Padfoot?"

"'Mssrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs,'" George said, as if reciting a lesson.

"'Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers,'" Fred continued. "'Are proud to present.'"

"'The Marauders Map,'" they finished together.

"Ah. So that's where Harry got it." Remus smiled. "I always had trouble believing he stole it from Filch himself. He's got too much of Lily in him."

"Our greatest achievements are because of you," George told them. "Did I tell you that you're my heroes?"

"Yes, we caught that part," Sirius replied. "Just don't share that with your Mum. She wouldn't want you to have a convict for a hero." Of course, that was all the more reason for him to retain his hero status.

Fred's eyes darted from Sirius to Remus and then back to Sirius, a question forming in his expression. "So where's …."

"Don't." Remus stopped him, his voice soft and firm with a just trace of frost. Sirius saw his friend's face close up, and knew Remus was teetering on the edge of a very dark place in his mind. "I know what you're going to ask. Just…don't."

Fred frowned, as if concentrating on a difficult problem, before his face took on a look of understanding. He knew. The twins might like to cause trouble, but they were also quite bright. They'd heard enough of the story about why they were currently in this house to put the rest of the tale together. "Oh." He sounded sincerely apologetic. "Sorry."

Before the ensuing silence could become too awkward, the door swung open and Ron stomped in. He pointed across the table, his finger darting from Sirius to Remus. "Tell them you did it!" He exclaimed, his face as red as his hair. Sirius felt another twinge of guilt. The twins had been making life miserable for Ron, and it was their fault.

"They know," Remus acknowledged.

"And we're sorry," Sirius added. "We didn't mean for them to become quite so…"

"The word you're looking for is possessed," Remus offered.

"So possessed in procuring retribution," Sirius finished. "How did that sound, Moony?"

"Best be careful, Pads." Remus sipped as his drink again. "You keep talking like that and people might start believing you're as boring as I am."

"Anyone who thinks you're boring," Sirius told him, "Doesn't really know you."

Ron glared at his brothers. "I told you."

"They'll leave you alone, Ron," Remus said. Although his voice was soft, there was a touch of amusement in it. "If they don't, let me and Sirius know. We'll take care of it." He winked, getting to his feet. "Come on, Padfoot."

"Where are we going?" Sirius asked.

"To perform the countercharms and return the twins' bedroom back to its former pristine condition," Remus explained. "We can't exactly expect them to sleep there in its current state, and it'll take them days to figure out what spells we used."

Sirius pouted. "But I'm not done with my firewhisky."

"It'll still be here in fifteen minutes," Remus said. "Don't make me give you my disapproving-prefect look." If Remus hadn't been snickering as he said it, Sirius would have accused him of being curmudgeonly. It was nice to have Remus – the real Remus – back. It made being locked up in the house just a bit more bearable.

"Oh, fine. I'll come help – but not because of the prefect-look." He pulled himself to his feet. "You know it never affected me."

"Of course it didn't," Remus said soothingly as he headed towards the door. "That was a different Sirius Black who asked James if I was serious about giving him detention."

"That was one time," Sirius protested, "And you yelled at me, Moony. You never yell." He gestured to the three Weasley boys – two of whom were watching the exchange as if it were the most fascinating thing they'd ever witnessed – to follow as he fell in step beside Remus.

"We hate to break up this trip down memory lane," George interrupted them, "But before we go fix our room, Fred and I have a question about tonight's festivities we were hoping you could help us with."

Remus paused, his hand on the kitchen door. There were any number of uncomfortable topics the twins could ask, and, while they'd at least shown some tact when it came to certain things, whether that tact would continue was debatable. Sirius could easily tick off a good two dozen conversations he would refuse to have with the boys. Beside him, Remus seemed to brace himself for the question. "Go ahead."

"Well," George exchanged a look with his twin and both their faces lit up, "We were just wondering…is there any way we could convince you to share how you turned our room into that swamp?"

Sirius caught Remus's eye and felt his mouth twitch into a grin. Oh, to bring mischief back to Hogwarts….

Remus took a minute to look thoughtful before he also grinned. It was a wicked, Marauder, I-solemnly-swear-I-am-up-to-no-good grin, and it was one of the greatest things Sirius had ever seen. Remus cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, I think we might be able to offer you a deal…."

~finis~