Title: Alone
Author: Haldiriell
Rating: G
Genre: angst, vignette

He was happy for them. He really was.

Sure, it might not seem like it, with him sitting morosely at a table, drinking butterbeer . . . spiked with firewhisky from Moody's flask.

But he was. Really.

It was just that . . . Well, it was several things. Which he was trying not to think about.

And, granted, failing miserably at.

He took a sip of his drink, his dark eyes following the couple as they danced around the room. The candle-light reflected in bright spangles off her red hair, so close to his dark, unruly head. She laughed at something he said, her green eyes sparkling.

He envied the couple. They were so happy. He wanted to be that happy. Part of him had wanted . . .

No. He wouldn't think about that. It didn't matter how lonely he was, how much he longed for what they had. This was their day and he was going to be happy for them.

He saw her smiling at him, her face bright, cheeks flushed. Those green eyes that had been fixed on the man in whose arms she danced were now aimed at him. He smiled, an automatic, involuntary reaction. Who couldn't help but smile back when she turned that look on them?

He made himself think on that, rather than what it might also mean.

To think more deeply would be a betrayal of his best friend.

Perhaps he loved her. Perhaps he didn't. It might have just been jealousy that his best friend had something he himself didn't.

He didn't want to be alone.

This war was going to take so many, he knew, and he suspected that he would be among those to fall. He didn't want to die alone, without having had someone there for him, someone he could share with . . . what these two had.

He let the smile fall off his face as she turned away.

No, he wasn't in love with her, though it wouldn't have been a surprise; more than the man she was with were in love with her.

He wasn't in love with her. He just wanted to be in love.

It was more than love, though. He wanted a life, something more than this half-hollow existence that ate at him. He was sick of hiding, sick of wondering if he'd make it through the day. He wanted someone to spend what time he might have left with. Someone to share himself with.

His butterbeer was almost empty now. He contemplated getting another one, getting Mad-Eye to give him another shot of firewhisky, then decided against it. If he was this depressed after one, another could only make it worse.

"You all right?"

He looked up, into the kind, hazel eyes of his other best friend. Remus clapped him on the shoulder.

"Bad form for the best man to be gloomy," he said. "Anyway, the photographer wants a shot of you, James, and Lily."

Smiling wryly, Sirius Black got to his feet. He took a moment to steady himself, seeing James and Lily Potter waving at him.

Loping off across the room, he plastered on a smile.

He really was happy for them.