Little Red |Sirius Black|

Hallelujah, My Well formed Arse- James Potter

"I'm headed out for a fag." Announced James, getting up from his bed, and rummaging through his trunk for his cloak. James was feeling a bit restless two days before the full moon, and he just needed to get out. Remus and Peter were fast asleep and the only reply he got from Sirius was a malcontented grunt.

James huffed in annoyance. Ever since that day in Dufftown, Sirius had been grouchy enough to give Moaning Mrytle a run for her money. James knew it was serious when even Christmas at the Potter mansion hadn't been enough to lift his spirits. All through their Christmas vacation, Sirius had simply brooded in the living room.

"What chance do we have if she can't even admit to her closest friends that we kissed, Prongs?"

James was usually the lovesick one, so this sudden role reversal had left him feeling clueless.

When he had finally run out of friendly advice, James had simply taken one of the muggle Santa hats that Remus had brought with him during a visit, and put it on Sirius' head, all in the effort to make his brooding seem a little more festive.

It hadn't worked like he had hoped.

Instead of glaring at walls, Sirius had just taken to glaring at him. Even now, Sirius was crankier than Remus, and it was two days before the full moon!

Sighing to himself, James made his way down the stairs and towards the common room. He was just about to walk towards the portrait hole, when the portrait swung open, seemingly of its own accord. "Who's there?" Asked the Fat Lady, her voice thick with sleep. "Show yourself!"

As James had expected, she got no response. But never one to waste an opportunity, he hurried towards the portrait and left before it shut again.

That was easy, James thought to himself as he adjusted his cloak, and headed towards the quidditch pitch, eager to get under the night sky.

The quidditch pitch had been James' favourite part of the castle ever since his first match in second year. The roar of the spectators as the game progressed was addicting to say the least, and James was so used to it that even when he visited the pitch late at night, he could hear the phantom crowds in the stands, all cheering him on.

James had initially started visiting the pitch at night to plan Quidditch strategies as it afforded him some peace and quiet, and at the same time it had the advantage of being the place where the matches were played. James would stay longer and longer each time he came, and soon enough he found himself at the quidditch pitch whenever he needed to clear his head.

His entire life, James had detested silence- with his parents, silence meant boredom. With Lily, silence amounted to anger, and with the Marauders silence always meant trouble.

Yet somehow silence here never felt so terrible. So at night, James would simply lie down on the grass and stare at the night sky, the invisibility cloak pulled to his chest, a cigarette in his mouth, and millions of ideas running through his head as he tried to make sense of the world around him. Which was what he did this time around too. Only this time his thoughts were plagued by Sirius and Arianna.

He knew that Sirius had been miserable ever since their outing to Dufftown, but what was more surprising was that ever since they had returned to Hogwarts after Christmas, even Arianna seemed to be in a perpetually bad mood. Despite her friends doing their best to cheer her up, Arianna never seemed to smile for more than a moment.

It seemed to James that the only good thing to have come out of that blasted trip was that after watching the Rocky Horror Picture Show, the Marauders had taken to calling Lucius, Narcissa and Bellatrix, Riff Raff, Columbia, and Magenta respectively. The looks of confusion on their faces had almost made up for Sirius' grumpiness. And Arianna's.