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James Potter was a great friend, a great person even. But people often made the mistake of confusing being a great person with being a great advice-giver. James Potter was not a great advice-giver.

When Sirius Black was sixteen, he finally cracked enough to tell James about the Black household, about his mother’s shrieking, the smashed glass, the sharp edge of a belt buckle, James had done all the good-friend things. He listened. He let Sirius punch his backpack in frustration until the seams burst.

But when it came time to respond, James hadn’t said, “You should talk to our guidance counselor Mcgonagall.” He hadn’t said, “You can stay with me a few nights, but let’s call the authorities.” No. James Potter the great person, but also the terrible advice-giver, had said: “Run away. Stay with me!” So Sirius did.

Sirius Black liked to think he was a smart person. Sure, he hadn’t turned in half his assignments at Hogwarts High, but he always aced his exams. But people often made the mistake of confusing being a smart person with making smart decisions. Sirius Black did not make smart decisions. All being smart meant was that he knew how dumb the decision was while he was making it.

So sixteen-year-old Sirius Black knew perfectly well that running away to the Potter’s house was a terrible idea. He did it anyway. And of course it only meant hell when he was eventually dragged back to his home.

That, in summary, was the dynamic: James Potter, the great person with terrible advice, and Sirius Black, the smart person who made dumb decisions. Together, they were chaos incarnate. Which was precisely how they ended up in Vegas on Sirius’s twenty-first birthday.

Sirius had always hated his birthday. For starters, he hated the thought of celebrating something his family, who he no longer talked to after he ran away the second time as a a legal adult, had spent years turning into a curse. But more than that, something about getting older felt claustrophobic, like time tightening around his throat. Twenty-one was especially bad: the last year of university, the impending pressure to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do next, the awareness that he was supposed to be “an adult” when he still ate cereal for dinner three nights a week.

James, being the good person he was, saw that fear and did everything a friend should do. He listened. He empathized. He told Sirius he deserved a break.

Then, being the bad advice giver he was, James grinned and said: “Vegas?”

James was technically still twenty, but he had a fake. Using it to buy liquor was one thing; using it to gamble in Vegas was another. Sirius knew it was (criminally) idiotic, but James’s bad ideas had a way of sounding like adventures. They went to Arizona State University; Vegas wasn’t even that far. It’d be one hell of a drive, sure, and they’d have to miss Friday classes, but they were seniors, what did it matter? Sirius knew it was reckless, that they’d probably lose the little money they had to their names. He agreed anyway.

By Friday evening, they were there: neon signs buzzing like electric wasps, the air heavy with cigarette smoke and champagne. Sirius had officially turned twenty-one that day.

At first they were nervous, James’s fake ID in general was a risk, and they weren’t even aware before arrival they’d have to put their IDs down at every casino table they went to. But it ended up being fine. It seemed like the sketchy downtown casino, whose name both had already forgotten, didn’t seem overly interested in giving two looks at clearly fake IDs. By ten, Sirius was already drunk (Sirius didn’t know how anyone could not drink in a place so loud, gaudy, and absolutely perfect) and James was on his third table without being caught. They landed at a Let It Ride table. James flashed his fake ID with the same grin that’s been working all night when the dealer squinted. Sirius could see the hesitation, that flicker of suspicion that meant this is where it ends. “You’re sure you’re twenty-one?”

Before James could open his mouth, someone else answered: “Relax, Peter. You let me in all the time.”

The dealer, Peter, snorted. “You again?”

The boy grinned. “Told you I’d be back. You know I can’t stay away from your charming personality.” The speaker looked their age, tall, all lean lines and long fingers and a calm smile. He slid a thousand-dollar chip across the table as a tip like it meant nothing.

“Why double your usual tip?” Peter asked.

“It’s still my usual rate. Five hundred for me, five hundred for this gentleman,” the stranger said nodding to James.

Peter rolled his eyes but gestured for the stranger to sit. He did, right next to Sirius. “Even top dealers in Vegas can be bribed for the right price,” the stranger said, nodding toward Peter. “I’m twenty, been doing this for years, haven’t been kicked out once.”

James grinned. “We don’t got that kind of money, Bud. We’re broke college kids. But it’s fine, until this table no one’s even looked twice at my fake tonight.”

The boy tilted his head. “You don’t need ‘my kind of money’ only need to start with one big chip to bargain with getting in places you’re too young for. Make the rest gambling.” He extended his hand toward Sirius. “Remus.”

“Sirius,” he said, shaking it.

“James,” the other added, waving.

“Birthday boy, huh?” Remus said when he caught sight of the cheap “21!” badge James had pinned on Sirius’s jacket.

“Unfortunately,” Sirius muttered.

“Then we’re drinking to that,” Remus said easily, signaling the cocktail waitress. Remus ordered three shots of tequila without even asking what they wanted.

They drank.

They played.

They drank more.

They lost.

Sirius had no idea what he was doing, every move was based on either instinct or James’s terrible advice. Remus leaned back, watching James fold early again. “You’re really bad at this. Terrible move to fold right now.”

“You don’t even know my cards,” James retorted.

“Don’t need to, folding on anything is a terrible strategy.”

“There’s no strategy!” James protested. But was silenced when the dealer pulled up aces from the flop for the table. With the way the game worked, he still technically won, but not as much as if he didn’t fold.

Remus laughed softly. “You think there’s no strategy? You must be new to Vegas.”

“New to gambling in general,” Sirius corrected.

“There’s always a strategy. At least if you’re paying attention.”

“Go on then, smart guy,” Sirius said, curious.

Remus shrugged. “Luck’s a factor, yeah. Always is. But the strategy is predicting the luck. The deck? It has a rhythm. Don’t count the cards they’ll kick you out for that if they catch you. But you can read how it’s been treating everyone else, how long it’s been since the last good hand, when it’s due for a change. Learn that, and you stop playing against the game.”

“Ok but why should we trust you? How do we know you’re not just mysteriously hot and saying bullshit. How long have you been playing here to learn all this?” Sirius asked.

Remus leaned back in his chair, amused. “I’ve been playing here since I was eighteen. Most dealers don’t notice the fake. You’d think they’d be better at catching it in Vegas of all places. Even when they do I just bribe ‘em, this place is having to compete with MGM and all the other big shot casinos they can’t exactly afford to be obeying the law when it comes to turning people away.” Remus smirked at Peter, who rolled his eyes. “But my experience starts long before that. My dad taught me all the games and strategies. Said you can’t beat the house, but you can learn to read its moods.”

“You always this philosophical about gambling?” Sirius asked, swirling his drink.

“Only when I’m winning.”

“Or trying to impress someone,” James muttered under his breath.

Remus just grinned, eyes flicking briefly toward Sirius. “Maybe both.”

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, where do you get the money to do this so often exactly?” James asked.

“I make my money here. Well, here and the shoe store I work at down the Strip. Get the paycheck there and minimally double it here.”

“So does your dad ever come gamble here with you?” Sirus asked.

“Nah, he and my mom both died not long after I turned eighteen in a car crash. They’re why I come here, gotta make rent somehow since I don’t have family to stay with. Can’t afford to be some ‘broke college kid’ at a fancy school like you two.”

“Arizona State is hardly fancy,” Sirius said with a smirk. Remus just smirked back and shrugged.

Peter dealt out another hand and put the deck in the box, signaling they could look at their cards. Sirius cards were shit and, though he didn’t see James’s cards, based on his face it seemed his weren’t looking promising. But, following Remus’s lead, they stayed. The flop showed kings for the table, meaning the winnings doubled their bets.

As Peter grabbed the cards to put into the machine to shuffle, Sirius spoke again:  “My parents are dead too, ya know.” James pinched his arm. “Dead to me,” Sirius corrected with a grin.

“Then another thing to drink to,” Remus said with a smirk, he signaled the drink lady down and ordered more shots. She came back quickly, as Remus had been just as nice with tipping her as he had with tipping Peter.  “Here’s to dead, or wish-they-were-dead, parents,” Remus said before they all downed them.

That was the shot did Sirius in. The next few hours blurred. There was laughing, and a lot of losing. Remus trying to teach Sirius how to understand when a bad table was gonna stay bad and when it was gonna turn around and start giving good cards, Sirius not understanding and picking where to go at random. James wandering off to flirt with a redhead at the slots. Remus and Sirius leaning closer and closer over the table until the dealer had to tell them to “take it outside” if they were going to keep touching. Then: another drink. A flash of hands. A kiss, laughter. A voice saying “If you won’t do it I will” Remus’s grin, wide and sharp and young. A ring that didn’t fit right. Remus’s jaw, Remus’s hands, Remus’s mouth. And then morning.

Sirius woke with a skull-splitting headache and a mouth like sandpaper. The first words out of his mouth were, predictably, “Fuck me.”

“If I remember correctly, I threw up before I could,” groaned the voice beside him.

Sirius’s eyes snapped open. There was a man, a shirtless man no less, next to him. “Uh, what, oh shit, what happened—” Sirius croaked, pushing himself upright. His head throbbed like a dying drumline. Sirius glanced down, and sighed in relief, he was still fully clothed. Small mercies.

The man, who had messy brown hair and his head half-buried under a hotel pillow, groaned. “If you don’t remember, you think I do?”

“We were at Let It Ride. There were shots. My mind goes hazy after but then I think roulette. More shots. Then I think we had… mixed drinks and shots at Mississippi Stud, and then…” He frowned. “And then my hazy mind goes into the ‘don’t remember at all category’.”

Remus (because that was his name, Sirius remembered, barely) sat up slightly, squinting at the light. “I remember the elevator. We were kissing. You unzipped my pants in the hallway. I scolded you to stop. Then we were here, things got heated, and we broke apart so I could take off my shirt but couldn’t because my hands wouldn’t cooperate but I eventually got it off and then—” He leaned over the side of the bed, grimacing at the carpet. “Oh, right. That’s where I vomited. Sorry. I’ll pay whatever fee they charge for carpet cleaning.”

Sirius groaned. “Charming.”

“I swear I’m never like this when I drink,” Remus muttered. “Then again, I don’t normally drink this much. Usually it’s just me, one casual drink, maybe two if I hit a good streak at the tables. Then I move to the next and find where the luck’s gone. But you guys were…well, fun.” He offered a faint smile. “Even if it meant forgoing strategy.”

“You guys?” Sirius asked.

“Yeah, you and….what’s his name….James?”

Sirius froze. “Shit. James! We were supposed to share this bed, where the hell is he?”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “You two aren’t…like, together, are you? I’d hate to think I’m some kind of home-wrecker.”

Sirius, despite the direness of the situation of not knowing where his best friend was, barked a laugh. “No, no, he’s straight. We’re just broke college kids. Sharing a bed made financial sense.

“Well, last I saw, he was with that ginger girl,” Remus said, rubbing his temples.

Sirius groaned. “Oh, right. The bachelorette group.”

Before Remus could respond, there was frantic pounding on the door. “Sirius! Fuck, Sirius tell me you’re in there! I’m in huge trouble!” Sirius stumbled across the room, pulled the door open, and there stood James Potter, hair wild, eyes wide.

“Not gonna lie,” Sirius said, “I thought you might be in jail, so whatever this is, it can’t be that bad.” And then he saw the redhead standing behind James. He froze. His gaze snapped from her to James, who was sheepishly holding up his left hand. A ring glinted. “Jesus Christ, you did not get married in Vegas.” James stared, wide-eyed. “Tell me you’re joking,” Sirius said, ushering them both inside.

“I—uh—I don’t think I’m joking,” James said weakly.

The redhead crossed her arms. “You were there.”

“Sorry, who are you again?” Sirius asked.

“Lily,” she said sharply. “Who are you?”

“Sirius.”

“Remus,” came the voice from the bed.

“I’m James, but I’m pretty sure everyone knows that?” James said helpfully, as though anyone needed clarification.

“Right,” Sirius muttered. “So, Lily, you’re telling me I was there when this happened?”

“We all were,” she said. “It’s hazy, but I remember making a joke about marrying him, and then suddenly it wasn’t a joke anymore.”

“Yeah, I remember that!” Remus piped up. “You two were laughing, and then Sirius said something like, ‘If you won’t do it, I will.’ And then I think I was clapping? Or maybe I was just holding a drink.”

Sirius groaned. “Okay. Let’s stop trying to remember. We were all blackout drunk. Not the kind where you remember most things but there are gaps, the kind were you remember almost nothing and the gaps are the vague things you do remember. So trying to recall things isn’t going to help. But here’s what we know: James and Lily are married. Remus and I didn’t sleep together. That’s…something.”

Remus raised a hand. “Well, maybe they aren’t legally married. Some chapels here are scams; they take your money but fake the marriage.”

James reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like confetti. “We thought of that. Then I found this.” Sirius squinted. The paper was so shredded almost nothing was legible, but two words stood out: marriage certificate.

Remus frowned. “If it says certificate, it’s legal. They can legally fake the ceremony, but not the paperwork.”

Sirius sighed. “Then we’ll get you two divorced.”

James coughed, glancing at Lily. “Can you, uh, wait outside for a second?” She looked ready to argue, but he guided her out and closed the door.

Once she was gone, James turned to Sirius. “Okay, so, I spent the night in her room. We don’t think we slept together, but I saw how cool she is, Sirius. She brought a LEGO set to Vegas! Who does that? And she had a book of poetry on her desk, you know I love poetry.”

Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose. “James c’mon—“

“Get this, she also goes to ASU! Went there I mean. Graduated early. Works full-time in engineering but is in the area so I could still see her when we go back.”

“James, then take her on a date after you divorce her.”

“Oh, perfect! ‘Hey, let’s get divorced, can I buy you a coffee?’”

“Yes, exactly that!”

James frowned. “No. Divorcing her before dating her feels wrong.”

“Marrying her before dating her is also wrong! You’re twenty, too young!”

“She’s twenty too! We both have fake IDs, it’s fate!”

Sirius buried his face in his hands and collapsed back onto the bed. “I’m too hungover for this.”

“I think you should stay married,” Remus said suddenly.

Sirius shot him a look. “Were you this annoying yesterday?”

Remus shrugged. “Just sharing an opinion. Talk to her, obviously, but if she’s okay with it, why not? Date her while being married. If it works out, great. If not, divorce her then. Can’t hurt. Tax deductions and all.”

James lit up. “Exactly! Breakfast. I’ll talk to her about it over breakfast.”

Sirius groaned. “Fine. Whatever. But for the record, this is a terrible decision.” He watched James leave, shutting the door behind him.

“Unbelievable,” Sirius muttered.

Remus chuckled softly. “He seems nice.”

“Nice? Sure. But he’s also a walking cautionary tale.”

“Eh, so am I. So are you from the looks of it.”

They sat in silence for a moment before Sirius mumbled, “You want breakfast? I need the greasiest thing imaginable.”

Remus hesitated. “Probably not a good move. Last night was fun. But, I mean, a mistake also. And, as your buddy James just realized, some mistakes are harder to ignore than others. But others, like ours, are pretty easy to move on from. I mean, I think we can agree it was a mistake, right?

Sirius looked at him. Objectively, yes, Sirius knew it was a mistake. But even hungover, Remus’s jawline was making Sirius wonder how bad of an idea it really was.

Still, Sirius Black knew a smart decision from a dumb one. And, for once, he did what he thought was the smart decision. “Yeah,” Sirius said finally. “Of course.”

Remus smiled faintly, standing. “Good. Uh here’s a hundred, it should cover whatever the cleaning fee is gonna be and you just keep whatever the change is and we’ll call it a birthday gift,” he said reaching into his wallet and pulling out a hundred dollar bill and placing it on the bed.

Remus looked down at Sirius, still laying down on the bed, what he was thinking Sirius wasn’t sure. “Let me teach you one last thing before you go back to your fancy Arizona school.”

“Arizona State isn’t fancy,” Sirius muttered, Remus ignored him and began teaching his last lesson. 

“What happens in Vegas,” Remus began.

“Stays in Vegas,” Sirius finished.

“Oh, you already know that one?”

“Yeah, that one I’ve heard plenty.”

Remus smirked. “Good. Then lesson complete.” He ruffled Sirius’s hair, then put on his shirt, and left out without looking back. Sirius lay still for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, his hangover pounding, but all he could think about was how stupidly perfect his jawline was.

But none of them, of course, remember what actually happened.

Sirius leaned over, lips brushing Remus’s ear as he murmured a joke that didn’t make sense even to himself. He felt a hand squeeze his thigh. One squeeze, then another.

“You two need to cool it. God forbid one of you two hot shots win big,” the dealer snapped. “Big wins they check the cameras and they’ll catch you touching, that  technically could be cheating so they take your winnings.“

“Relax,” Remus said, his fingers lingering.  “We’re not hurting anyone.”

Sirius smirked. “Right, because a little PDA is definitely going to overturn the house.”

Remus leaned back, hand still where it was. “Better make it worth it, then,” he mumbled. But the dealer’s glare made it clear they had to keep it low.

Then, a tap on Sirius’s shoulder, it was James with the red haired girl he had sodded off with an hour ago at slots.

“Everyone meet Lily!” James announced with a grin. “Lily, meet—”

“My friend is getting married, that’s why I’m here,” Lily interrupted, eyes wide. “I mean, she’s twenty-one! Too young to be married! I’m twenty! Also too young, I’m not even sad that she’s getting married and I’m not. I don’t want to get married! It’s more so that she’s getting married and I on the other hand have such terrible luck with love that I’m not even going to be married by forty at this rate!”

“Well,” Remus said smoothly, signaling the waitress for another round, “let’s drink your sadness away.” Shots were poured before Lily could protest, and she downed hers with a grimace.

Mississippi Stud continued, with Lily and James now dealt in too, chips and cards blurring as the four of them played. Remus leaned toward Lily at one point. “You could always do the classic, cliché thing,” he said, nodding toward a girl in a short white dress chasing a man in a cheap tux across the casino floor, laughing.

“Marry you?” Lily asked, confused.

“Nah, nothing personal, doll,” Remus said, squeezing Sirius’s thigh again with a mischievous grin. “You’re not my type. But this bloke,” he nodded at James, “great person. Only met him tonight, but…I can tell he’s a great person.”

Sirius laughed, glancing at James, who seemed far too eager to propose Lily on the spot. “C’mon, if you won’t do it I, I will,” Sirius teased him.

Lily didn’t say no, but her hesitation was obvious. “You’re thinking too much,” Remus said, already signaling the waitress for another round. Two shots later, and Lily was buzzing with liquid courage. She grabbed James by the arm.

“Let’s go! We can get married! Now!”

Remus pointed to one of the resort chapels nearby. “This one’s legit, they actually will marry you here legally. No scams, trust me.”

Inside the chapel, the ceremony was halfway done when Lily froze mid-vow. “No… wait. I can’t… I know we already put the money down but…” she stammered.

James grinned at Sirius. “Still serious about, ‘If you won’t, I will’?”

Sirius looked at Remus. The answer in Remus’s smirk was clear: absolutely.

Convincing the priest to continue with a different couple then the ceremony had started with required some negotiation—Remus haggled the ‘extra fee’ the officiant insisted the they pay from fifty to twenty-five, but eventually, the vows went through.

After, Lily looked sulky. And James, a little disappointed he wasn’t marrying this firecracker he barely knew. Remus took off his ring and handed it to Lily. “Here. You can brag to your bachelorette friends that you’re married. Don’t put too much pressure on if you won’t be married by forty. Marriage is just a piece of paper.” After a bit of coaxing, Sirius took his off too to give to James.

“Marriage is just a piece of paper,” Remus said again, shredding the certificate with careful precision. “Well, I guess it’s more than just paper since technically we’re still married… but all I’m saying is don’t feel the pressure to find love at twenty.”

Lily and James, guilty for the mess, gathered the pieces and apologized to the officiant as all four exited the chapel.

“Well… let’s go find my fellow bachelorette’s and tell them we’re married,” Lily said to James, who grinned like an idiot and followed.

Sirius and Remus stayed behind. Fingers tangled. And then they kissed, slow, lingering. And in his drunken haze Sirius realized that, for the first time ever, he was actually enjoying his birthday.