Title: Remember What I Told You
Author: Trinity Day

Rating: G
Word Count: 2278

Author's Notes: Believe it or not, today marks the eighth year anniversary of when I started to post fanfiction. And, knowing me back then, it probably also marks the eighth year of writing fanfiction. I would tell you to marvel at the changes in the writing, except that story is very thankfully hidden away in the dredges of the internet. It will probably never be brought to light again.

Much, much thanks go to duva and happyreaper over at LiveJournal for their wonderful beta job.

Written for prompts #110 at siriusloving, a Livejournal community celebrating Sirius Black, which was a picture, which I obviously can't show or link to here. I think it works best as the summary, however, so if you feel like some detective work, go look it up. If not, be satisfied with:

Summary: Sirius stuck his hands deep into his pockets and scrunched up his face as he tried one more time to figure out what, exactly, it was about the sea that had James so fascinated that he'd barely spared a glance at his best friend.

Remember What I Told You

Sirius found James' shoes first. They had been abandoned in a haphazard pile on the beach, far enough back to keep from being swept away by the tide when it returned. Sirius examined the pile for a minute, gathering everything in his arms before thinking better of it and dropping the shoes again, this time adding his own to the heap.

Sirius found James next—the man himself and not some other discarded piece of James that seemed to litter the beach. His best friend was standing some distance away from his shoes with his back to them and to Sirius. James seemed to be deeply focused on the sea, not even turning to investigate the sound of Sirius' Apparation, which was reason for more than mild concern.

Nor did James hear Sirius as he walked over, even though Sirius wasn't trying to sneak at all. Even if sand muffled sound, James was normally better than that. He had to be, in his situation.

"All right, Prongs?" Sirius asked gently, in an attempt to soften the blow.

It didn't work. James still jumped so high that if it were any other time, under any other circumstances, he wouldn't have heard the end of it until they were both dead.

"Merlin, Padfoot!" swore James, once he had got a good look at his attacker. "You gave me a fright

"I noticed," Sirius said mildly, coming to stand beside him. He, too, looked out to the horizon, trying to see what James found so fascinating in it.

He was disappointed. There wasn't anything to break the monotony of the endless blue waves, not even a ship or a seabird. The most exciting thing Sirius could see was the white caps that appeared every once in a while as waves crashed into each other further back from shore.

"How did you find me?" James asked.

"Marauder's Map," Sirius offered. It had been a standard explanation for most of their way through Hogwarts, so James accepted it without question now. Evidently, there were too many other things on his mind for him not to realize that this wasn't a very good answer.

"Oh," James said. "I wish we'd thought of a way to make ourselves invisible on that damned thing. Only you'd probably have found a way around it even if we had."

"You're probably right," Sirius said mildly.

"You're the stubbornest bastard I've ever met, after all," James felt the need to add.

"Again, you're probably right."

"Wait—Marauder's Map?" James' mind finally caught up with his tongue, causing him to backtrack through the conversation. "We lost that. Ages ago. And even if we hadn't, this isn't Hogwarts; it wouldn't work."

Sirius shrugged, smiling. "As you said, I'm the stubbornest bastard you've ever had the pleasure to meet."

"No, really, Padfoot. How did you find me?" James asked.

"I apparently know you too well. Did it really take you that long to figure it out? You must be really out of it today." He stuck his hands deep into his pockets and scrunched up his face as he tried one more time to figure out what, exactly, it was about the sea that had James so fascinated that he'd barely spared a glance at his best friend.

"Can you blame me?" James asked.

"In a word: yes."

"What?" James looked at him, startled, but Sirius was still concentrating on the horizon, looking more calm and serene than he ever looked. It was as if he'd agreed with James; he looked so at ease, his manner completely incongruous with his actual words.

"Prongs, think about it," Sirius started.

"I am thinking about it," James argued. "Why do you think I'm so nervous?"

"Lily's a great girl."

"Of course she is," James said automatically, quickly falling back into the old pattern: Sirius criticizing, James defending.

"I didn't say she wasn't," Sirius added, a little annoyed. James was going off track too easily today; Sirius realized he was going to have to tread carefully if he didn't want to be hexed good and proper.

"That's a change for you. Since when do you like Lily?" James asked.

"Since she agreed to marry you. Showed some sense, for once in her life." Sirius couldn't help himself sometimes; even after vowing to himself that he wouldn't antagonize James—at least not more than was necessary to knock some sense into his best friend—he still couldn't resist the smart answer.

"Lily always shows sense," James argued, his hand actually inching closer to his side, where his wand was normally tucked in. The action would have worried Sirius more if he didn't know that James' wand wasn't actually tucked into its usual place. He wondered when James would realize the same. He decided to give him a hint.

"I'm not here to argue with you," he said as calmly as possible. "Besides, you'll want a wand if you're planning to curse me."

Sirius's perceived insult towards Lily was completely forgotten as James started to frantically pat himself down, looking for his wand. It wasn't safe, being without a wand. It wasn't normal. He probably hadn't been without it outside of the safety of his own house since fourth year (the time when his parents decided it was pointless to keep him from following the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Under-Age Sorcery; he had already been using it whenever he was away from their watchful eye, so it was probably better for everyone involved when they stopped pretending they didn't know he broke the rules).

"Really, Prongs," Sirius said, watching his best friend with no little amusement. "You really aren't yourself today, are you?"

"I lost my wand, Sirius!" James said. He looked so lost, so empty, so horrified that Sirius, after first rolling his eyes, decided to take pity on him.

"Relax. You left it with your shoes. You must've put it down to take them off and then forgotten to pick it up again. Here you go." He pulled the wand from inside his robes and handed it over to James' eager hands.

"Thanks, Padfoot," James said, sitting down heavily on the sand. "I can't believe I was stupid enough to leave my wand behind. I mean, it's not safe, is it?"

"I sincerely doubt that Death Eaters are going to hunt you down on a deserted beach," Sirius said. He sat down beside James even though the sand was damp from the retreating tide and was going to stick to his robes. A simple cleaning charm would make them both presentable afterwards. He made a note to perform it on James; if their conversation so far was anything to go by, the other wizard would be much too preoccupied to think about sand all over his arse and it wouldn't do to have everyone snickering at the groom as his bride walked down the aisle.

"I don't know," James said bitterly. "I think they would love that sort of thing. Killing a pureblood on the day he's supposed to marry a Muggleborn witch? Poetic justice, or something like that."

"We won't let that happen," Sirius said quickly, even though he knew, realistically, that he probably wouldn't be able to stop them if they tried. He tried not to think about that, though, putting it firmly out of his mind and hoping that James would follow suit.

James didn't. Sirius shouldn't have been surprised, really. James hadn't been able to follow the conversation properly even when it was going in a straight line; subtleties and silent pleas to drop the subject and move on to more pleasant things were completely and utterly lost on him today.

Not that Sirius didn't understand, when he got right down to it.

"Why do they have to hate us?" James was quiet, broken, lost. Sirius had asked himself that on more than one occasion. He wished he had been able to think up a proper answer then that he could pass on to his best friend now.

"Probably because we're trying to stop them all the time?" Sirius suggested.

"Even if we weren't involved in the Order at all," James said, "they'd still hate us just for who we are."

He laughed, horribly. "Sometimes I wonder if it's even worth it. Lily and I are in love, but does that even matter? Everyone thinks we're just doing this to defy them. Everyone thinks we shouldn't be doing this at all. Everyone thinks we're just giving them more reason to hate us. And we are, aren't we? We are. And if they could manage it on our wedding day, all the more fun for them."

James sounded bitter, too bitter in Sirius' opinion. Sirius was supposed to be the bitter one in the relationship, Sirius who had lived sixteen long years with the Black's pureblood fanaticism. James was supposed to be naively, cheerily optimistic. He was supposed to give Sirius a hard time whenever he got to depressing, not the other way around. Sirius hoped this wasn't an indication of what was to come now that James was going to be married to Lily. Evans was always much more realistic than James had ever been. For all that she was a Muggleborn living in a foreign world, she had a much better understanding of how things worked.

James' words were enough to kill the conversation for a few minutes, mostly because Sirius wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. Really, what was there to say that wasn't either completely untrue or else completely implausible?

Finally, he asked, "I don't suppose a lie would mollify you?"

James settled him with a look of disgust that was answer enough—not that Sirius had really been looking for one.

"Fine. You're right." Sirius picked up a pebble and ran a thumb over its smooth surface before flicking his wrist and letting it fly over the water. It skipped once.

"What should I tell you? 'No, they wouldn't do something like that?' It's a lie and not even a good one. Voldemort's supporters not only would, but they have. We both know it. We've both seen it.

"All right, that one's down. Then how about, 'They aren't going to target you because they don't even know about the wedding?' There's a little more truth in that—at least, I sincerely hope so—only it's not exactly comforting, is it? All I'm doing is remind you of the secrecy you're forced to use. It should be a celebration, Prongs. You and Lily are getting married. You should be able to take out an ad in the Prophet. You should be shouting it from the rooftops. You shouldn't have to slink off and hide as if you're ashamed."

He picked up another stone and threw it as hard as he could, not even attempting to get it to skip across the water surface. He was doubly disappointed; it didn't even make a satisfying splash.

James went green. He had been looking pale and clammy all day, but now he looked like there had been an accident in Transfiguration and he was caught halfway between human and frog shape.

It was one thing to think those things to yourself; it was another to have your best friend—your best man, the one who was supposed to be your moral support, standing at your shoulder and telling you everything was going to be all right—saying the same thing.

"Christ, Sirius!" James swore. "I thought you were trying to make me feel better!"

"I thought you didn't believe me when I lied."

"You still shouldn't say that. Not today. Especially not today."

"Why not?" Sirius threw another pebble into the sea. This one flew the farthest. "It's the truth, isn't it?"

"You aren't helping," James complained.

"Am I scaring you? Are you going to leave Lily now? At the altar? Have Voldemort and his Death Eaters frightened you off? Have they won?" He pulled his knees up to his chin and looked at James, who was not acting so out of character that he didn't recognize Sirius' trick for what it was. But then, Sirius wasn't trying to be subtle or underhanded.

James took a long time to answer. He glared at Sirius, but Sirius wouldn't drop his gaze despite James' fiercest look. James gave up first, dropping his head into his hands. "No."

"I didn't think so. Can't let the bastards win, can you?"

"It isn't just that," James protested, fingering the hem of his robes.

"I certainly hope not," Sirius joked. "Marrying someone just to piss off some Death Eaters is more my thing. Lily deserves better than that. You deserve better than that."

"I love her."

"I should hope so."

"I'm scared."

"I know."

James laughed, sharply, without most of his usual humour. "Since when were you the voice of reason in this relationship?"

Sirius smiled brightly. "Since I thought you'd curse me seven ways from Sunday when you woke up tomorrow and realized you'd thrown away what's probably the best thing going for you? Since I knew you probably wouldn't even be able to find the pieces of me to do that after Lily got through with me? She'd blame me, you know. She blames me for everything you do."

"For good reason," James said.

Sirius laughed it off. "You're probably right."

He got up off the ground, dusting himself off on his robes. He then extended a hand to James, pulling the other boy to his feet. Clapping James' back, Sirius gently herded him back over to where they'd left their shoes.

"Come on, Prongs," Sirius said. "Let's go get you married."

The End