Leaning against the entrance, James Potter watches Remus until he disappears from sight. His face feels sticky and plastic. So, retreating into the safe solitude of his shop, he drops his smile. He walks over to the counter and puts Remus' cup away. Having finished with washing it, he comes out of the back room and slumps on to his stool behind the counter.

James spends a good minute wondering just how bad of an idea it was to keep this a secret from Lily.

And then he grabs his phone from his pocket and makes a call.

"Potter," a deep voice sounds from the other end. James rolls his eyes.

"Bellerose," he almost scoffs, "Where's Sirius?"

There's a small silence.

"I don't know?" Auguste replies.

Frowning James, shifts on his stool. "Don't lie to me. Where is he?"

"I'm not lying to you," comes the reply, and for some reason, James can't help but feel like it's true. "Did you ask Remus?"

"No, why didn't I ever think of that," James rolls his eyes again, "Of course I wouldn't think to ask the guy who lives with Sirius,"

"I'm sorry for trying to help," Auguste retorts, "Where are you?"

"In my shop," James replies, already putting his coat on. Well, trying to, with one hand.

"Alright, I'll meet you at the Leaky Cauldron." Auguste doesn't wait for a reply, just cuts the call. Which isn't surprising, because they've never been good friends. They've never been friends, period. And James has no wish to change that.

Which is saying a lot, because making friends and being agreeable and fulfilling the unbare maximum of fun-to-hang-out-with-ness is James' whole shtick.

He closes the shop up and walks to the back of the Leaky Cauldron, wishing he had a scarf with him. Once he gets there, he goes in through the back door. Auguste is already there, waiting for him by the entrance. He must've Flooed from home.

"Have you had your lunch?" Auguste asks, sweeping the pub with a look of distaste.

"Not yet," James shrugs, "But it can wait."

"I have a feeling it'll have to wait for a very long time," Auguste sighs. "Get something to eat in the car. I'll wait outside."

He practically throws himself out of the building, making James roll his eyes, yet again. What a stuck-up princess. He grabs Auguste by the arm, stopping him with one foot out the door and the other inside.

"Why don't we just eat here first? Do you even know where to go?"

Auguste gives him a pained look. "Get in the car," he sighs. "If you're going to eat, it's not happening here."

***

"If you spill a single crumb in my car, your girlfriend will have to fish your body out of the sea," Auguste narrows his eyes at him. They're in the parking lot, having realised that neither of them really knew where to go only after ordering food from the drive through. McDonald's is the only place James knows around here, and even if the food was bound to give him some sort of health issue, Auguste's offended look when he suggested it was so worth it.

"I wouldn't dare," James mumbles, "Why didn't you get anything?"

"Multiple reasons, none of which I desire to tell you," Auguste shrugs.  "Did you try calling Sirius?"

James ignores that first bit, in no mood to fight. "I've been trying for days,"

"When did you last speak to him?"

"Uhm, that night when he had a fight... can I call it a fight? I don't know... When he uh, had a fight with Remus. He called me."

"He had a fight with Remus?"

"Yeah, I—" James turns to him, eyes wide. "You don't know?"

"I don't know why you always assume he's with me whenever he... disappears," Auguste says carefully, "I haven't spoken to him since the last time we met up at his house."

James chokes on his drink. He looks at Auguste, who, with an elbow resting on the frame of the open window, is staring outside, head turned away and cheek pressed against his knuckles. James feels a little guilty for assuming that Sirius would be with him.

"Here, have a chip," he holds his chips out to Auguste, who looks at James likes he just proposed to get married.

"That's okay," Auguste sighs, "I've eaten already. You eat,"

James feels even worse. Why couldn't he just take the damned chip?

"Look, I'm sorry," he mumbles, "I don't like you very much but you know. I... guess I've always known that you would never uh, let Sirius... I don't know, do this," he makes a sweeping gesture, almost knocking his food over. Auguste gives him a warning look.

"See, this is why we can't be friends! Why do you always look like you hate me?" James complains, shoving a bunch of chips in his mouth.

"Between the two of us," Auguste raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow, "which one just said that they didn't like the other very much?"

"Okay, okay," James admits, "That was me. But you've always acted like you're too good for me,"

"Maybe I am," Auguste says, then gives him a cool, easy smile. James decides, against instinct, that maybe for once, it isn't a genuine insult. "Let me try and call Sirius." Auguste reaches for his phone.

Sirius doesn't pick up. Of course he doesn't. They ring him three times, but there's no answer.

"I'll try from mine," James offers, knowing it won't help.

Five missed calls later, they're driving with no real place in mind. James leans his head against the window, wishing Auguste would turn the radio on, because the silence is killing him.

"Just like old times, huh," James finally says.

"Was hoping we'd never have to do this again," Auguste says mutedly, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel with impatience as he waits for the car in front of them to change lanes.

This is not the first time they're driving around London in thick, heavy silence, looking for a particularly stubborn boy who could be doing anything from taking a long, drunken walk to lying unconscious in a ditch somewhere.

James tries not to think about the latter part of the spectrum.

"This is a bit pointless, isn't it," James mumbles, not lifting his head. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know," Auguste admits. "I was thinking of going to the nearest bar."

"There are probably like, what, eight-hundred bars in this city," James sighs.

"Wait," Auguste says all of a sudden. "How did I not think of this... Will you get my phone, please?"

James grabs his phone from the cupholder below the radio and holds it out for Auguste to type the password in.

"Call Aurelie," Auguste tells him. "And put her on speaker, please."

James does as he's told. When the call connects, the car is filled with loud music.

"Coucouuuuu," a voice cuts through the music. James flinches, and Auguste gives him an almost apologetic look.

"Aurelie," Auguste says, "We can't find Sirius... You're on speaker by the way."

"Hold on, hold on," the girl on the other end—Auguste's sister—says, and slowly, the music is reduced to a distant thump.

"What did you say?" Aurelie asks. "You can't find Sirius?"

"Yeah," Auguste replies.

"Well, he's not at this party. Did you try calling his friend... Jane, was it?"

James' mouth hangs open, and Auguste gives him half a grin, which James very much takes offense at.

"James, Aurelie. Jane is a girl name. We've talked about this. And he's right here, holding the phone."

"Oh. Hi James who I once thought was Jane but only because I thought Jane was a boy name," Aurelie prattles off.

"Hi," James squeaks out.

"Have you seen Sirius?"

"Uhm," James looks at Auguste, who looks torn between laughing and crying, "No?"

"Oh, right," Aurelie goes quiet. "I'm on it. If he's with someone else, I'll find where he is. Just give me... time. I'll call you back." She hangs up all of a sudden, leaving James to stare at the phone dumbly.

"Uhm," James starts, "are you... sure that this is gonna help? Like, at all?"

Auguste nods, turning his car into a smaller lane. "She'll find him, don't worry. Like she said, if he's with someone else, she'll definitely find him."

"And if he's not?" James can't help but ask.

"Well," Auguste gives the wheel a small pat. "We have a car, we have money for petrol... we'll find him ourselves."