Author's Note: Written for...

Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. Team/Position: Montrose Magpies, Chaser 1. Task: Include the Deflating Draught, start/end with the same word. Prompts: (dialogue) "I'm bored. Play with me!", (quote) 'I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.' – Pablo Neruda, (dialogue) "On your marks, get set…drink!"

Lovesick

"Go away! I want to be left alone."

James narrowly missed the pillow thrown at his head the moment he opened the dormitory door.

"Why does the room smell?" he asked, rushing to open all the windows.

"I stole some whiskey from Slughorn's cabinet. Well, not me, exactly. I may have persuaded a first-year to do it for me," Sirius explained. He was lounging on his bed with a bottle of alcohol in hand. He took a swig of it and closed his eyes. "Also I may have spilled some on your bed."

James couldn't be bothered to wonder why the whiskey was anywhere near his bed, and began stripping the sheets. "Do I dare ask why you've taken to drinking before noon on a Sunday?"

"I'm in love," Sirius moaned, dramatically flopping onto his stomach to look at James. "I'm am in love, James!"

James dumped the whiskey-soaked sheets in the hamper and rolled his eyes at his best friend. "I know, I know. You've been going on about it for months. I wish you'd just tell Remus and get it over with already."

"I can't though. What'll he say? He's just gonna laugh at me."

"The question you should be asking yourself is what I'm going to do to you if I have to keep hearing about this infatuation with Moony."

Sirius fixed him with a hard stare. "Right. Nothing like hearing your nightly rants about Evans."

James slumped on his bare mattress. "I don't want to talk about Evans."

Sirius sat up so fast that the bottle tipped a bit and spilled on his pillow. "What's this? Is James Potter finally over Perfect Evans?"

"I'm just tired. I've tried everything I can think of and she still won't talk to me."

"Uh-huh. Sounds like you could use a drink."

"I don't think that's a good idea…"

"Come on, James. I'm bored. Play with me!"

"It's 10:34 in the morning."

"Since when has that ever stopped us?"

James sighed and took the bottle Sirius offered him. "Just to shut you up," he insisted.

Sirius shrugged. "Whatever you say, mate." He leaned over the side of his bed and pulled a second bottle from under the bed, uncapping it with a flourish. "Let the fun begin! On your mark, get set … drink!"

:-:

It was Frank that found them just over two hours later when they had drained the bottles and were half-asleep on their beds. He shook his head at them as soon as he spotted the bottles laying at their sides.

"Hell no. I have too much homework to go through tonight without dealing with your drunken antics. Take it outside or keep quiet." He stomped over to the farthest bed and began unloading his bookbag. "Professor Madison wants us to read three chapters of this book of muggle poetry. It's harder to get through that one my mum's tea cakes."

James sat up so suddenly that Sirius was sure he was making a dash to the bathroom, but instead he sat at the edge of his bed, staring glassy-eyed across the room. "I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too."

"...You know she never actually loved you, right?" Sirius' correction was met with loud sniffling.

"Get him out of here. Now," Frank ordered. Sirius couldn't argue.

"Come on, mate. Let's get some fresh air, eh?"

James continued to sniffle and whine, clinging to Sirius as they made a slow journey to the grounds, earning stares and snickers from more than a few housemates.

"Why doesn't she love me, Sirius?" James slurred in his best friend's ear. "We're two good looking blokes. Why are we crying over people who don't love us?"

Sirius grunted, struggling under James' weight. "I dunno. Although, personally, I wouldn't say I'm the one crying."

James straightened so suddenly that Sirius stumbled, nearly walking into a tree.

"That's it, I'm through wasting time on her," James declared, forcefully wiping his eyes. "I am a handsome, talented, inter … intellilee … smart man!" he finished drunkenly. "I don't need her."

"I guess not?"

"Right! Who needs girls? And you - you're awesome! You don't need to wait around for some cardigan-loving nerd to notice you."

Sirius looked around frantically to see if anyone was paying attention to them. "Will you keep your voice down?"

"It's time I made better use of my time. I'm gonna hit the pitch."

"There's the Prongs I know. Let's have some fun!" Sirius agreed, running along beside him.

It wasn't difficult to unlock the broom shed, and soon both boys were up in the air, tossing a quaffle near some hoops.

"We should do this more often," Sirius called. He threw the quaffle past James and through the hoop with ease.

"We will, now that we're not wasting our time with childish crushes."

James dived for the falling quaffle. Sirius watched in annoyance as James showed off his broom skills, spinning and doing loops. And then, as he reached out with both hands to catch the quaffle, his grip on the broom slipped and Sirius watched helplessly as his best friend was plummeting toward the ground. Even sober he wouldn't have been fast enough to reach James before he hit the ground.

Sirius landed just as a crowd of onlookers started to form a circle around his friend's still body. He pushed his way through and knelt by James' side, already sobbing.

"Why, Merlin?! He was so young!" he cried, clinging to James' left arm. His other arm was pinned beneath his body. "This is all my fault."

"He's not dead, you fool. Get him to the infirmary!"

Sirius looked up at the blurry face of a boy he was moderately sure he'd never seen before. "What are you talking about?"

Strong hands were suddenly pulling him up and away from James. He fought against them uselessly as they dragged him toward the school. He only calmed down when James' body was levitated along beside him.

:-:

Sirius sat fidgeting next to James' bed as Pomfrey looked over the apparently not-dead boy.

"He's most likely got a concussion." The mediwitch lifted James' head from the pillow, revealing a large bump from where it hit the ground. "I can fix it quite easily. It's his arm I'm worried about."

Sirius winced at the sight of James' right arm. It had doubled in size since they arrived in the infirmary.

"Is it … bad?"

"Well, swelling is never a good thing, is it? At least it's not broken." Pomfrey cast a spell over her patient, then rushed off to the storage closet in the back of the infirmary and returned with a small potion bottle in hand. "Deflating Draught. He'll have to drink this whole thing when he wakes up. It'll take care of the swelling, then I'll be able to see if there's anything else wrong with it."

"Will it deflate his ego as well?"

Sirius whirled around, ready to fight whoever would dare to joke about James' condition, but it was only Lily. She somehow managed to look angrier than the time he had accidentally set fire to her homework in Transfiguration one time. Her anger was only accentuated by Remus standing next to her, fixing Sirius with his most disapproving stare. Somehow knowing that Remus was disappointed in him made Sirius even more upset with himself. He sat back down weakly.

"Mr. Potter doesn't need any more visitors at the moment," Pomfrey said, attempting to shoo Lily and Remus from the room.

"We're here on prefect duty, ma'am," Lily told her. "We were just with Professor Slughorn. Apparently someone made off with two bottles of his favorite whiskey."

"Well, that certainly explains a thing or two. You're welcome to Black, but Potter will need to stay a while longer. I'll leave you to it."

Sirius kept his eyes trained on his shoes as he felt the prefects staring him down.

"We can smell the alcohol on you, Sirius. You may as well admit it," Remus told him.

"Fine. I stole Slughorn's whiskey."

"And Potter?" Lily prompted.

"James had nothing to do with it."

At the sound of his name, James stirred, moaning a little. The others watched, waiting for him to wake up, but he fell silent again.

"I'll go inform Professor Slughorn. I'm sure he'll want to dock points for this," Lily huffed. "Are you coming, Remus?"

"No, I think I'll wait to see if James is alright."

Sirius still couldn't bring himself to meet Remus' eyes, even as the prefect positioned his chair so they were sitting with their knees inches apart.

"What happened, Sirius?"

"I didn't mean for this to happen … I was just bored."

Remus laughed humorlessly. "Yes, I'm familiar with your boredom, but James is in the infirmary…"

"I begged him to drink with me. He was upset about Lily. And then he wanted to go flying and I didn't even question it. I'm so stupid." He had been trying very hard to keep himself together, to forget the terrifying moments he'd thought James had died, but they were all he could think about and it was too much for his drunken mind to deal with.

Remus placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright. I know how stubborn James can get, especially when he's been drinking. I doubt you would've been able to stop him."

"I wish I had."

Sirius hesitantly raised his eyes to meet Remus' and quickly looked away.

"Sirius? Why were you drinking alone on a Sunday morning? I realize it's silly of me to question your motives, but you never drink that early."

"I was … depressed."

"Oh?"

"I've been after someone for a while, but they haven't noticed me. I'm afraid they don't like me like that…"

Sirius could hear the smile in Remus' voice. "That doesn't sound like you. Usually you chase down whoever you like. Who's the lucky girl?"

He thought about naming some random girl, but no names came to mind. Then he remembered James' advice from earlier in the day, to just tell Moony how he felt. Somehow it seemed slightly more achievable now that he was considerably drunk.

He locked eyes with Remus as his stomach twisted anxiously. "Remus. I'm in love with you."

He could see the confusion registering on Remus' face, but didn't give him a time to respond.

"I know this all seems sudden, and I realize you probably think I'm only saying this because I'm drunk. And you're half right. I definitely wouldn't be telling you any of this unless I had consumed quite a lot of alcohol this morning. I've been trying to think of how to tell you for six months at least. You can ask James - when he's up to it, I suppose. He's sick of me talking about you all the time, but I'm not sick of you. I just wish this was a more romantic setting, with some candles and flowers and-"

Sirius' ramblings were cut off with Remus' mouth on his.

"Ugh, gross."

They broke apart quickly, turning to the bed. James stared at them in disgust, cradling his still-swollen arm to his chest.

"How dare you snog by my deathbed."

Sirius let out a relieved sigh. "It's good to hear your voice, mate. I was really worried."

"Yes, I can see how worried you were. Oh, congratulations on getting the guy. Don't mind me dying over here."

"James-" Remus tried to interject.

"No, no, no. Don't let me stop you. I'm sure you have so much to talk about."

They were saved by Madam Pomfrey returning from her office. "Ah, Mr. Potter. Finally with us once more." She turned his head roughly to look at the bump on the back. "Yes, that's cleared up nicely. Now, I'll need you to drink this draught to bring down the swelling in your arm." She glanced up at Sirius and Remus briefly. "He could use some rest, which, from the sounds of it, he won't be getting with you two here. Out."

Remus reached for Sirius' hand, flashing him a smile. "Let's go."