Carve Me Open / r.l. + s.b. /

Godspeed

"... one's important, so hurry," James whispered, opening the window.

A chill swept through the library and the flames before Sirius flickered. Flamma disappeared into the winter snow, a dark anomaly in the midst of snowflakes. James shut the window quickly, hurrying back over to sit in front of his friend.

"Will you ever tell me what happened," he murmured, almost afraid to look at his friend.

Sirius had been silent since they entered the library, ignoring James's attempts at conversation. There was nothing to say. Revealing the truth of that night meant Bellatrix would end up locked in Azkaban for the rest of her life; his mother would never forgive him. He didn't need her to hate him anymore than she already did. She could pull him from Hogwarts, send him to Durmstrang, and never write again. He'd be without James and Remus. Without Julienne and Peter. He shivered.

"Sirius, you can talk to me, you know," James urged, putting a comforting hand on Sirius's knee. "About anything..."

Sirius shifted underneath his touch, moving out of his reach. He was in no mood to be stroked like a kitten. James sighed heavily.

Sirius looked at his friend, a rueful smile on his face as he feigned sarcasm, "Anything?"

"We could talk about art," James began. "Or school? I know you don't like it much. We could talk about... erm... I don't know. Remus?"

Sirius scoffed, "What would you want to talk about Moony for?"

James's cheeks reddened.

"I just thought it might make you feel better."

"No," Sirius frowned. "Tell me about Lily."

James, bemused, looked at his friend and asked, "Why?"

"Just do it, berk."

James looked at his hands for a moment, contemplating all the things he could say about her. Sirius knew that look; he'd seen it in the mirror. Words fail you often, but they fail the most when there aren't enough to describe the raw emotions present for a single person. Like when you loathe the very existence of your family, or when you're absolutely infatuated with your roommate.

"I wish she would notice me," James admitted softly.

"Oh," Sirius sniggered, "she notices you."

"No, not like that," James snapped. "I mean, I wish she would notice all the good things I do instead of when I'm being... when I'm... I'm being..."

"Annoying?"

"No."

"A nuisance."

"No."

"Yourself?"

"Y- No!"

Sirius couldn't help but laugh to himself, stomach clenching in discomfort for a moment.

"When I'm being goofy," James said. "She only notices when I'm being a Marauder. She never shows up when I'm acting mature."

Sirius rubbed his arm, "What's the difference?"

"Well, I know I act like I don't care about my grades, but I do. And I am God awful about subtlety --"

"Amen."

"-- but I wish that didn't matter. I try so hard to be better. I want people to know that I'm not this spoiled rotten brat who can only spell Quidditch. I want to be an Auror. I want to travel the world. I want her to know there's more to me than what I put out there."