Prompt: Can you write something about James and Sirius amazing bromance?

Rating: T

James groaned and covered his head with his pillow as he heard thumping from downstairs. His father had apparently developed a liking for building furniture muggle-style while he was away at school, which had resulted both in the house being full of more than a few suspect items, and in his father making rather a lot of commotion at varying hours of the day and night.

Much as he was glad that his dad had retired - and he was - he really wished that he would at least try and keep relatively normal hours. Hammering random bits of wood into an item of furniture at one in the morning wasn't really appropriate, although judging from the lack of swearing so far he'd at least mastered hitting the wood rather than his thumb.

Thank Merlin for Remus and his greater knowledge of muggle tools; James had made him take the more deadly looking tools away with him, and had extracted a promise that he'd come back in a week to help him try and wrestle more of them away from his dad.

'James, stop that infernal racket!' His father's voice came booming along the landing, and James was on the verge of an indignant retort when he realised that if his father was shouting at him to shut up, that meant he wasn't responsible for the increasingly frantic thumping. Since he doubted his mother had taken it into her head to join in with her husband's hobby - and he'd like to assume that his father would have noticed if his wife was missing from their room - then someone else was responsible for disturbing his sleep.

His much-needed sleep.

Muttering to himself, he slid out of bed, grabbing his wand and wedging his feet into his slippers. He hurried down the stairs to the hall, following the banging noise...which was actually someone knocking on the front door.

He opened it cautiously, wand out; dangerous times after all. A tall dark haired boy pulling a trunk along behind him practically fell through the opened door, wobbling dangerously on a leg that looked suspiciously like it might be broken.

'Padfoot?' James reached for his best friend and pulled his arm across his shoulder, pulling the trunk from his hand and dropping it to the floor. 'Fucking Merlin! Look at the state of you!'

He hesitated for a moment then turned towards the drawing room, both leading and supporting Sirius. He kicked the door open and helped Sirius lower himself onto the nearest sofa before stepping back to get a good look at him.

His hair was wild, plastered across his face and some of it was stuck on what appeared to be a patch of blood; closer inspection proved it to be a nasty gash on his right jaw. The injured leg that he'd already noticed was bent at an unpleasant angle, and there was a large chunk of flesh missing from his left arm.

James summoned a house elf, and within moments the elf had gone and come back with a tray. James took the glass of water from it and offered it to Sirius who took it and gulped it down.

'Better?' James asked, offering him a second glass, this one containing a measure of firewhisky.

Sirius nodded, sipping at the alcohol. 'You've no idea.'

'What happened Padfoot?'

Sirius let his head fall back into the softness of the sofa cushions. 'My beloved mother had arranged for some summer lessons for me and Reg. I just found a letter about them tonight when I was snooping through her things.'

James remained silent, well aware that Sirius often took a long time to get things out.

'These lessons...apparently they were to prepare us for our futures in pureblood society, and would be with Lucius Malfoy.'

James spluttered at that, but pulled himself together as Sirius continued.

'So when she walked in and found me going through her writing desk she wasn't best pleased, but she was even more pissed when I said that there was no way she was making me a Death Eater in training. She didn't exactly take it well; she locked me in my room and disappeared off to make plans with her bloody Voldemort groupies, and I saw my chance and legged it.'

He gulped some more firewhisky and stayed silent. James waited a moment before gently prodding. 'How'd you get hurt?'

Sirius rubbed his face. 'House elf caught me leaving, I didn't quite dodge the hex. Fast little shits when they want to be. Got me in the face, I lost my balance, tripped down the front steps, buggered my leg.' He paused, rubbing his hand over the wound on his forearm. 'And that's just where I splinched myself.'

James sat down with a thud. 'You apparated?'

Sirius shrugged, shifting to better accommodate his injured leg. 'Had to try something. Mummy dearest had the floo disconnected as soon as Reg and I got home from school, and I didn't have time to try and get my broom from the shed, so I figured legging it out the front door was my only option. Didn't think any further than that though, and once I was limping I knew I didn't have a lot of choices. Knight Bus wouldn't have got to me quick enough. So I just…apparated.'

'How the fuck did you do that Padfoot?'

'I don't know Prongs! I know the theory, and I just concentrated really hard on your house and…it worked, I don't fucking know do I?'

James sighed and hung his head. 'Well, for what it's worth, I'm glad it worked. I'm glad you're okay. We'll worry about the Ministry and everything tomorrow alright? Let's just get you cleaned up.'

He grabbed his wand from his pocket and began to cast whatever healing spells he could remember before he began to use dittany on the bleeding wounds. Sirius hissed as the liquid hit the gashes.

'Thanks Prongs.'

James looked up at him, his eyes more solemn than Sirius had ever seen them, including right after that screw-up with Snape and the Whomping Willow. 'And you can stay, you know that right? You can stay here as long as you like.'

A weight lifted right off his Sirius' heart. 'I can?'

James stopped dabbing dittany across Sirius' arm. 'Like I'd let you go anywhere else mate.'