Author's Note: I was listening to a song from one of my favorite bands and this one shot sprung up from it. It's not that good, and I'm thinking about trying to revise it some or re do it, but I thought I'd take a shot and see how it would do. I think it might have ended up a bit confusing. As usual, it has implied slash, though nothing explicit. Unrequited Sirius/James. The song used is Memories by Within Temptation.


"What's that," Sirius Black asked, pointing to the cardboard box that was taking up room on his bed. It felt a little odd sometimes, being back in the room that he'd sleep in as a teenager. He was so far apart from the boy that use to occupy this room that it was almost like they were two different people. Teenage Sirius had been rather naïve and innocent for all he thought himself rather worldly. The small acts of rebellion still shown in the room, the red and gold decorations. The pictures of muggle woman he'd thrown up to annoy his mother.

"Some stuff of yours I saved from your flat…after you went to Azkaban. Never really understood why I kept it. Nostalgia maybe. Anyway, since it's yours I figured I'd give it back to you," Remus told him.

Merlin how Sirius missed that old flat. Small, run down but more of a home than Grimmauld Place had ever been. He and James had spent a week fixing the place up after he's moved in.

"Thanks," he muttered, voice low. That box was from a different time. A different man. A time he'd give almost anything to go back to, a man he'd give anything to be again. Everything in that box was the possessions of a man that was whole, and young, and who thought he could help change the world. A man who had everything he ever needed in life. He'd had James, he'd had his godson, he'd had the other Marauders. Despite the darkness that had surrounded them, he'd never thought any could seriously touch them. Destroy them.

"I'll look through it later," Sirius said, picking the box off his bed and placing it down on the floor. He stared at it for a second, before tearing his eyes away. Remus nodded.


September, 1971

"Can I sit here?"

Sirius looked up at the sound of the voice from the textbook he was reading. A small and thin, scruffy looking boy was standing in the doorway. He was still dressed in muggle clothes, and seemed rather disheveled. Sirius had put on his school robes as soon as the train started moving, having been rather uncomfortable in the odd muggle clothes he'd never worn before. The young Black was actually rather relieved at the sight of another human, it had been a bit boring and lonely in the compartment by himself, his cousin Narcissa having abandoned him soon into the ride.

"Sure," he answered. The other boy grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet on to the seat across from Sirius. He had the distinct air of one with a boundless amount of energy.

"My name's James. What's yours," he asked. Sirius looked him over, decided that he had rather big eyes. They were covered by glasses but had a sort of excited light to them, making them appear large and bright. Sirius had never seen any quite like them, they were warm and colorful. Unlike the Black eyes, cold and gray, like blocks of steel that were unmoving and hard.

'"Sirius." He didn't dare tell him his last name, he didn't want to scare the boy away. No doubt his parents had told him of the Black family, and he had the impression that this boy came from a warm and loving family. He seemed almost pure, untainted to Sirius, by the oppressive pureblood aristocracy.

James grinned and said, "Cool name. My mum just gave me plain old James. Almost everyone I know has it. I bet you don't know many other people named Sirius, do you?"

Sirius laughed a little, "No, not many. I think some old geezer in the family was named it a long time back but he's not exactly walking around with it now." He'd truthfully never liked his name, thought it high and mighty, but the way this boy was talking was making it seem something special.

"Are you a first year to?"

James took the black framed glasses off his face, and only than did Sirius notice they had a rather large crack in them.

"Yeah," he answered. He thought about how different he must look compared to this boy. Hair neat and school robes stiffly pressed.

"How did that happen," he asked curiously, nodding his head a little towards the pair of glasses.

"A flying book. Always told my mum they were evil," James joked, pointed to the forgotten textbook.

Sirius laughed, "Me to."

"You might want to dodge some yourself. I could have led them here. I suspect the girls I pranked are still searching for me," James told him. Sirius grinned, he was actually really starting to like this boy.

"What did you do to them," Sirius asked him laughing.

James shrugged, "Nothing big, just set off some firecrackers in their compartment. How was I suppose to know they were putting on make up at the time."

Sirius gasped as he woke up with a start at the sound of sudden thunder outside his window, breaking him from his dream. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes and could almost feel his hands shaking.

Had he ever really been that young, he wondered as the dream came back to him. A memory actually. The first time he'd met James. Every night James was all he'd dream about. It was almost a punishment really, how thoughts of him would invade his head at night and when he was awake. Was that his punishment, to never be happy again when he thought of James? The punishment for leading him to his death.

No matter how many times some one told him it wasn't his fault that the Potter's died, no way he could have known Wormtail was the traitor, he didn't believe them. Couldn't believe them. He knew the blame laid with him, James never would have used Wormtail if he hadn't of suggested it.

He swung his feet off the bed, cursing when he hit something. Using his wand, he lit up the room, glaring down at the box on the floor. Was a box haunting him now? A part of him wanted to throw the whole thing out the window, but something was stopping him.

Shaking his head, he sighed. He bent down to pick it up, placing it on the bed next to him. He grabbed a pocket knife from the draw of his nightstand, using it to slice open the tape keeping the box closed, till he had pulled the flaps completely away from the top.

There wasn't really that much inside it. Not much Remus had thought to keep. Mostly sentimental things. He flipped the box open, dumping the contents on his bed and throwing it to the side, hearing a soft thud as it connected with the floor. Wading through the various items, he smiled as his hand came in contact with the two way mirrors.

How many memories they held. How many detentions they'd gotten him and James through. How many night's he'd spent in this very bedroom, talking to James through them during the summer. The were old and rusted, there were a few cracks in the glass from where they had banged around in their trunks a long time ago.

James' mum had given them to the boys for Christmas their second year. Lovely woman, Drusilla Potter had been. Sirius had adored her. She had treated him just like he'd been born to her, at a time when Sirius had been longing for a caring parent the most. And no connection to him at all.

He'd told Harry a long time ago that all of Britan's pureblood's were connected, and that was true. James had been a very distant relation of his through marriage. His great aunt Dorea had married James' father's brother. There had probably been more connection longer generations back, but that was the only one that mattered at the time.

But Drusilla, she'd had no blood relation to him at all. Irish born, muggle raised, but a pureblood through and through. Sirius believed if it wasn't for James and his mother's influence he might not be the man he was today. He might have even ended up like his younger brother.

How he'd loved James. Sirius believed he'd fallen in love with James the moment he'd met him, dirty and scruffy and so far from perfect. And never once had he told him he loved him. Never even said the words. Sirius hadn't known how to love before him, and he'd been so scared of loosing him that he'd never told him how he really felt about him.

And than Lily had come, and Sirius knew he'd lost his chance. He'd wanted to hate her, but he couldn't. Because she made James happy.

There was a leather jacket spread out on the bed. Sirius laughed. James had bought that for him when they were sixteen. It was long and black, very worn looking. Sirius had hated it, but wore it anyway cause James had bought it for him. James had joked that if he was going to get a bike he'd need to look cool, but had actually bought it as protective wear for Sirius just in case he'd ever fell off the bike.

There wasn't much else. A few photos, a lighter James had given him for his birthday, back when fags weren't a hazard to your health and muggle drugs had been fun to try. They'd been really stupid kids now that he'd thought back on it. A few other knick knacks; a guitar pick that use to go to a long broken guitar Sirius had bought when he was eighteen, a few drawings that James had done for him. Sirius had charmed them to move. A watch that he'd had done with all the Marauder's nick names along the sides. A few muggle records, long since obsolete now in the muggle world, of old punk bands that he and James use to listen to. Remus had always called it noise. A few parchments with scribbling of songs he had attempted to write. The only other thing from the box was a tattered stuffed black dog, that he had kept at his flat for Harry when he babysat him.

December, 1979

It was raining again. Sometimes it seemed like it was raining more than it ever had to Sirius, like it was reflecting the moods of the citizens of England. Even the muggles could tell something was going on. He took a long drag of the cigarette in his hand, not even bothering drinking the whiskey in front of him.

He was already numb enough without it. Nothing was ever going to make him forget the news Dumbledore had told the Order tonight. That he suspected a spy in the Order, that was nothing new. Sirius had speculated on that a long time ago. How the Death Eaters usually expected them coming to prevent attacks, how they knew where certain members would be at certain times. James and Lily had almost gotten killed three times before.

Nothing could have prepared him for what Dumbledore had told them all tonight. About the prophecy. He had named two couples, only two, who could be parents of the child told of in it. Alice and Frank Longbottom, or James and Lily. Told them how Voldemort himself would be coming after them.

Sirius had sat numb throughout the whole meeting, coldly watching both Lily and Alice crying, and their husbands trying to comfort them while barely holding themselves together. James had clearly been white and shaken, but had not given in to his own fear because of Lily.

His Jaime was going to die. He didn't know how he knew, how surely he knew that his godchild would be the one in that prophecy. And James would do everything in his power to protect Lily and his child. His best friend had always been powerful and intelligent, indeed both Sirius and James had been thought of as the two most clever boys in Hogwarts when they were there, but when it came to actually fighting Voldemort, Sirius knew that he wouldn't last five minutes. If he could, Sirius would die himself before he let anything happen to them.

He looked up startled at the sound of a knock on the door. Stumbling a little from the alcohol in his system he opened the door. James was on the other side, hair plastered flat to his face from the heavy rain that had been pouring, shivering slightly in the thin jacket he had on. He was paler than Sirius had ever seen him, dark bags under his eyes, and didn't look none to sober himself.

"Hey," James greeted, his husky voice slurred slightly. He had eyeliner smudged under his eyes, and black nail polish covering his fingers, a look he hadn't adopted since he'd started going out with Lily. From the days when he use to join Sirius at punk concerts and clubs, before she had changed him from Sirius' James to her own.

"Merlin James," Sirius said, helping him in. He wasn't nearly as pissed as James, so he managed to get them both to the couch without falling, sitting James down.

"You look like shit," Sirius said bluntly. A strong smell of whisky was coming off James, along with something that smelled a bit like rum. He was pale and his lips were chapped, and his hazel eyes looked a little hazy and unfocused.

"Really," James said a bit sarcastically. All at once he seemed to break down, head in his hands and his slender shoulders started to shake in silent sobs. Sirius didn't even hesitate, putting his arms around his best friend, making it so his scruffy head was on his chest. He cradled the crying man, not even caring of the tears that were slowly seeping into his shirt.

"She blames me, Lily does," James suddenly said after a few minutes, voice muffled into his shirt.

"Why," Sirius asked him. He didn't want to say what he thought of that fact that Lily could be blaming James for this.

"Because I wanted to fight. Cause I accepted Dumbledore's offer of fighting. She thinks that if we had never joined the Order, Voldemort would have had no reason to go after us, or the baby. She's right," James told him, sounding almost lifeless.

Sirius sighed. He could see why Lily would jump to a conclusion like that, it was probably some motherly instinct, but she was wrong. James would have been on Voldemort's radar whether or not he had joined the order. Being a powerful pureblood of a long line, and having married a muggleborn, he wouldn't have been left alone. Sooner or later Voldemort would have shown up around them.

At least with the training the Order had given them, the extra training they gave all their new recruits, they had been able to escape from him those three times. Without that, Lily might not be around to be worrying about their baby.

In many ways, neither was suited for war. Not like Sirius and Remus. Sirius had it in him to kill, he could take another human life and not feel one ounce of guilt. He didn't like to, but he would do it if it meant him or the other person. But James, he didn't have that in him. He was too pure, too innocent in a way. He could be arrogant, he could rebel, he could bully with the rest of them, but in the end his compassion would get in the way. He would feel to much guilt over taking another life. James fought because he felt it was the right thing to do and because Sirius and Remus were out there fighting, but not because he wanted to. And Lily, Lily would have preferred to be far away from fighting, but had followed her husband, who had followed Sirius.

"Listen to me," he told James harshly, and he wasn't sure if it was because of anger at Lily for making James blame himself, or anger at James for listening to her, "None of this is your fault."

James opened his mouth to argue a bit but Sirius angrily cut him off, "None of this, and Lily had no right to blame you. All it is, is that you two unfortunately drew the short wand. If Lily wants to blame anyone, she should blame that psychopath that's trying to take over the world. It's his fault, all of this, more than yours or even hers."

"I'm not ready to die. God, I don't' even know how I can say that. If there's anyway that I can protect Lily and my child, just to get them away from danger, I know I'm going to die doing it, and I'm not ready to. I don't know if I'm strong enough to protect them," James told him.

Sirius held James closer, running a hand soothingly up and down his back, feeling the wet black cotton still sticking to his skin from the rain. He knew better than anyone that James didn't want reassurance, that he just needed to tell someone and have them listen.

"Will you miss me?"

The question startled Sirius, who almost pulled away from James. James was staring up at him through red rimmed eyes, the hazel blurry and sad, and so unlike the happiness that usually resided there.

"Of course I would. How can you ask me that," Sirius said. Didn't James know that there was no way that he could survive without him?

"You've been pulling away," James answered simply. Sirius sighed. He hadn't thought James had noticed that, so wrapped up in his wife and impending baby as he'd been lately. Sirius didn't begrudge James his happiness, he was glad that James was happy, but it hurt to watch James be happy with someone that wasn't him. So, he tried to distance himself, figuring it would hurt less. Who would have thought it could hurt more in a way.

He could feel James shivering against him. He pulled away gently, avoiding looking at questioning hazel eyes, "I'm going to get you something else to wear. Your going to get sick if you stay in that."

He retreated into the bedroom, shuffling through his drawers and looking for something that would fit James. He was smaller than Sirius, and a bit thinner to, so mostly anything Sirius could give to him would be to big. He finally pulled out some clothes from a few years before that he'd never thrown out, going back in the living room.

James had gotten off the couch. He was riffling through Sirius' cabinets, looking for something. He seemed to be a little sobered up now, but was still swaying a little where he was standing.

"You got any coffee," he asked without even turning around. Sirius didn't know how, but James had always had the uncanny ability to tell when Sirius was near him, without even looking.

"Just tea," he answered when James turned around. He smirked at the disgusted face James made. The man was the only person he'd ever met who hated tea.


He handed him the clothes, picking up the bottle of whisky on his table and closing it, putting it back in one of the cabinets. Not caring that someone else was in the room, James started to strip off his wet clothes. Why should he care, they undressed in front of each other all the times and James had no idea that Sirius loved him.

He tried to look away, busying himself with running some water over the dirty dishes piled up in the sink, but his eyes strayed a few times to look back at the dressing man. In less than a minutes, James was dressed. Sirius couldn't help but think he looked adorable in the clothes that were too big for him. The sleeves of the button down red shirt were covering his fingers, and he had to roll up the gray sweat pants a bit so he wouldn't trip over them. Combined with the eyeliner that was rubbed around his eyes, and the hair that was starting to stick back up as it dried he looked all of thirteen years old again.

"So, are you going to tell me what's been bothering you lately," James said, playing with the sleeves of the shirt. Sirius sighed, he should have known his best friend wouldn't let it go. He turned to look at him, leaning back against the sink, arms crossed across his chest.

One of the things he loved most about James was that even when he had enough problems, he still tried to take care of his friends. Course, sometimes it could be so annoying when he wouldn't let it go. He wanted to lie to him, but he never was able to.

"I guess I just felt that maybe you needed some time with Lily, and…that it would be better for the two of you if I wasn't around for a while," Sirius told him, mangling the truth just a bit.

"Why would you think that," James asked confused, "It would never be better for me if you weren't around. You're like my brother, I love you."

Sirius felt his stomach tightening at those words. How he longed to hear them all the times, but he never heard them the way he really wanted. He never would. James looked hurt at the thought that Sirius was trying to pull away from him. He pushed himself off the sink, wrapping his arms around James in a hug.

"Me to," he said, feeling James hug him back.

"Will you promise me something," James mumbled into his neck, and Sirius had to suppress the shiver that shot down his spine at that.


"Promise me, what ever happens to me and Lily, that you'll be alright. That you'll take care of our baby."

Sirius tightened his hold on James, wanting to keep him here and safe at the thought that something was going to happen to him. At the thought that he could live if anything happened to him. Sirius had never believed in deities, had never believed in anything really, but at that moment all he did was pray that nothing would happen to James.

"I promise."

Sirius looked up from the parchment he was scribbling on absentmindedly at the sound of a knock on the door. He got up, stuffing the parchment into a pocket of his robe, and opened the door to step out of the room.

"Hey," his godson said. Sirius' mind flashbacked to the times James showed up at his door, red eyes and drunk when he saw Harry. His godson looked so much like him at that moment, eyes red and pale.

"Hey, what's wrong," he asked.

"Couldn't sleep. Did I wake you up," Harry asked, looking at bit guilty at the thought that he might have woken him up.

"No, I was awake. Did you have a nightmare," Sirius asked. Harry nodded, but didn't appear that he wanted to elaborate. Sirius offered to make them tea, making Harry eagerly answer yes.

"Your father hated tea," Sirius said a few minutes later, placing the mug of tea in front of Harry, sitting down across from him.

"Really," Harry said, always eager for more information about his parents.

Sirius laughed, "Yeah, drove your mother crazy it did. She hated coffee and that was all James would drink in the morning. I remember this one times, she waited till he was gone and switched his coffee with a cup of tea, trying to see if he would drink it. He took one sip of it and ended up spitting it out all over her face."

Harry chuckled, "I wish I could have known them."

"So do I kid, so do I."

Harry looked down, stirring his spoon through his tea, "Dumbledore once told me that they're not really gone. That they're hear with me all the time, long as I need them and remember them."

Sirius smiled softly, looking at his own tea and remembering the faces James would make at the drink. He could almost see James right next to him, scrunching up his nose and sticking his tongue out.

"He's probably right," Sirius muttered. He stared at his tea remembering every times James would try to throw it in plants when Drusilla would give it to him. The time when he tried to fake an allergic reaction to it at a party so he wouldn't have to be polite and drink it for the host. Maybe James wasn't as gone from him as he thought.

"What's that," Harry asked, pointing to the parchment Sirius had forgotten he'd shoved into his pocket.

"I'm not sure. Don't remember what I put on it," Sirius said, pulling it out. He scanned it, noticing faint scribbling, the beginning of a song. He handed it to Harry.

"This is pretty good. Did you use to do this a lot?"

Sirius nodded, "Yeah, yeah I did."

He stayed up a while after Harry, quill scribbling across the parchment, finishing the song. James had always encouraged it, even when Sirius had thought they would get him no where. When it was done he laid down the quill. He hoped that James could see him. Maybe he was even smiling at the fact that Sirius had actually finished one. He left it on the table when he went back to bed.

In this world you tried,

Not leaving me alone behind.

There's no other way,

I prayed to the gods let him stay,

The memories ease the pain inside,

Now I know why.

All of my memories keep you near,

In silent moments imagine you here,

All of my memories keep you near,

Your silent whispers, silent tears.

Made me promise I'd try,

To find my way back in this life,

I hope there is a way,

To give me a sign your okay,

Reminds me again it's worth it all,

So I can go on.

All of my memories keep you near,

In silent moments imagine you here,

All of my memories keep you near,

Your silent whispers, silent tears.

Together in all these memories,

I see your smile,

All the memories I hold dear,

Darling, you know I'll love you,

Until the end of time.

All of my memories keep you near,

In silent moments imagine you here,

All of my memories keep you near,

Your silent whispers, silent tears.

All of my memories…