Kaise and I met after her Dark Arts lesson- we had ceased to call it Defence a while ago- in the abandoned classroom. This was the sixth or seventh meeting we'd had like this, and finally I was seeing progress. Instead of her jumping at my dark conjurings, she had managed to embolden herself against them, each new threat easier to handle, each dark spot flooded with her light. Watching her flourish was intoxicating. She had an intense look of concentration that reminded me why I was first attracted to her, her spark, her persistence and willingness to do anything for the sake of good- even break the rules a little.

Of course she, like Sophia, was still a spark, not a fire.

What Kaise didn't notice was what our sessions were doing to me. Each new challenge brought for me a new dark spell to cast for her to counter, meaning to defeat that which I so hated, I had to cast it. What was it I had thought so fleetingly? The best way to counter darkness is with darkness itself? I had no idea of the gravity of those words. Dark magic was frightening. Each time I raised a terrifying phantom to taunt Kaise, I felt a horrible burst of absolute pleasure. It was like a million voices promising me power, power beyond my wildest dreams. In my mind's eye the mirror of Erised suddenly became abhorrent to me, hiding away my true desire, power. I could have Lily Evans, all the money in the world, the Quidditch world cup, whatever I wanted if I kept casting, if with each new spell I grew more and more powerful.

When these thoughts climaxed, I would stop the spell, drained and exhausted from fighting off the voices that promised me all I could want. I had grown haggard over the past few weeks from the effort, not comforted by the fact that the oncoming holidays only promised more time spent in Hogwarts with Kaise. Usually it was Ok, once I stopped the spell. I would sit in my dorm and practice all the wonderful, good magic I knew. I would shoot sparks of different colours around the room excitedly, watching as they fizzled, losing their colour for a moment and glowing bright white before extinguishing completely.

But more often lately the voices followed me. They ravaged my dreams. They sneered at me in Charms as I desperately tried to complete the most menial of spells. They mocked my sense of accomplishment as I easily morphed this into that in Transfiguration and they quieted to a whisper in Dark Arts, to watch with awe as Malignatious terrified every soul in the classroom, except mine, which was strong with defiance and something else that wasn't quite mine.

Reverence.

My friends grew suspicious as I began to stagger in late and sit in the dorm, shooting sparks and giggling like a maniac, watching wide eyed. It took me longer to get to the tower than usual, I found myself getting lost often, or my mind would drift and revisit my body to find that it was no longer in the place it had been left, instead I had mindlessly wandered to the other end of the castle and was being told off by Filch, who was exasperatedly trying to get me to focus so that I could refute his accusations like I normally did.

And of course, at this very moment, my mind was wandering and only just realised where I was, still in the abandoned classroom with Kaise, panting heavily.

"James? James?" Her voice was distant for a moment until it was suddenly deafeningly loud and all I could think was that I wanted her to stop it! But she didn't stop, she kept calling my name and shaking me until I nodded and came to my senses, placing a trembling hand on her arm trying to assure her I was alright. It only made her more frantic. "James, are you Ok? We're stopping, alright? We're not doing this anymore. Do you understand me? WE'RE NOT-"

"Ok," I coughed a little, noticing somewhat alarmingly that my had was splattered with blood. "Just... don't shout," I wiped it on my robes, hoping Kaise hadn't noticed.

"James?" she asked, her voice wavering a little, "What's wrong?" Her face was painted with fear and guilt. She could tell how taxing casting these spells had become to me. She, like everybody else, could see it in my wearied face. I was the only one, it seemed, who understood it was for the greater good. I wasn't the only one who looked worse for wear nowadays. Malignatious was growing strained. He stuttered more often than normal, let the little things slide, relaxed his grip slightly. I knew it was because of our countering. But he was beginning to guess I was the one countering. I was the one who looked most strained.

"It's nothing," I insisted, getting shakily to my feet. "I haven't been sleeping well," It was half true.

Kaise eyed me suspiciously as I began to walk- half staggering- to the door.

"It's more than that," she called after me, and I couldn't help but sigh and turn, smiling as brightly as I could at her to ease her mind. Damn that attractive persistence. "Smiling like that's not helping anything James, you look like something that just came out of Azkaban." I relaxed the smile, probably looking more melancholy than ever in contrast.

"I'm fine, Kaise," I insisted, rolling my eyes.

"We're stopping," she repeated.

"No..." I protested but she raised a hand to silence me, that same intensity in her eyes that made me want to grab her and not let her go.

"We're stopping, James. You aren't doing any more Dark Magic, and I'm going to learn to counter it without you, Ok? This isn't good for you." I couldn't disagree. Even now I could her the voices, luring me away from her words towards the pleasure, the way it felt when I cursed her...

"Ok," I told her, nodding. This was better, taking a break. I would feel better soon.

I would feel better soon, I kept telling myself as I made it finally back to the dorm and lay down. I would feel better soon.

Soft pressure on my bed. A hand on my shoulder. Darkness. That same pressure. Daylight. Nighttime. Warm something down my throat. Water. Darkness.

Light.

"I will tell you boys when he is awake, in the meantime I do not need you hanging around making noise in my infirmary!" a shrill voice insisted. I groaned and tried to sit up before realising how heavy my body felt. The sound attracted the attention of the arguers who all rushed to my bedside. I reached out to a pair of warm hands who took my hand and back and sat me upright. I opened my eyes to see Madam Pomfrey offering me a foul-looking medicine which I reluctantly took before glancing around to find myself indeed in the infirmary.

My friends all sat nervously by my bedside, worried looks plastered all over their faces. I smiled at them, feeling considerably better than I had over the last few days. They smiled half-heartedly back as I drank the rest of the medicine and then quickly replaced the burning taste with warm butterbeer which charged through me, invigorating me.

"What am I doing here?" I asked, looking around. Sunlight was streaming through the windows, but it had been raining when I fell asleep with no sign of letting up. "How long have I been here?"

"You've been ill, James, caught a fever." Remus explained, avoiding my second question.

"It's been a week," Sirius told me, a hand on my shoulder. A whole week? What had I missed. I suddenly felt left out, cheated, like time had been stolen for me. The butterbeer turned cold in my mouth as I forced it down my throat with an audible gulp.

"A week?" I repeated, eyebrows furrowed. I looked to Madam Pomfrey, as if she'd tell me something different. She just nodded.

"And these boys have been here every day to see you, despite how much they've been frustrating my other patients." The three smiled sheepishly at her as she was called away to tend to another bed by what was definitely the croak of a frog.

Remus, Sirius and Peter sat by my bed and chatted about what I had missed in the past week- including a Quidditch match, a grueling loss to Slytherin. I tried to think back to having been in any practices in the past few weeks, but my memory was blurry and distorted until right back when Kaise first asked me to teach her. My heart sank to my stomach as I heard the news. Malfoy would never let me live it down. Neither would Snivellus, but at least I could knock his teeth in, he had no goon followers.

"Gryffindor are still in the final!" Peter piped up encouragingly, "the match is after the Easter holidays!"

"Er... yeah, speaking of," said Sirius, pulling something from the inner pocket of his robes, handing it to me and looking warily over at Madam Pomfrey, "Felix said to give you this, but don't tell Poppy, she'll probably go mad and say we're overworking you..."

I unfolded the piece of paper and let out an over-exaggerated groan, Madam Pomfrey turned around sharply, her ears attuned to the sound, but I held up a hand to signal I was fine before looking back at the paper in my hand. A practice schedule, scribbled in red ink. It basically included every free second I had except for classes and a minimal amount of homework. I handed it to Remus who frowned deeply.

"You'd think as a seventh year doing his NEWTs he wouldn't have time for all of this..." he noted, scrutinizing the schedule.

"Not... exactly," said Sirius, who clearly didn't want to stress me out further than the schedule already had, probably worried that I'd fall into another week-long coma. I urged him to finish what he was going to say. "Well, there are some scouts coming to the final," he said, shifting in his seat, clearly worried that the pressure would be too much for me to bear. I frustratedly opened out my hands to him as if to receive the information.

"Scouts for what teams?" I asked as he cringed. I already knew what team. The Falmouth Falcons were Felix's favorite team, and he drew many of his plays from adaptations of theirs. If Felix had a chance to play for their team, he'd practice every hour of the day- which he's practically already making you do- and if we lost, especially to Slytherin, his reaction would be less than desirable.

"Falmouth Falcons," Sirius confirmed. I think I winced at his words, but I covered it with a feigned yawn.

"Good luck, mate," Remus said, uncharacteristically using colloquial terms. But there was no other way to put it, I certainly needed the luck.

"You'll be great!" Peter squealed, almost unbearably cheerfully for a boy sitting by his friend in a hospital bed. It wasn't a big deal for me, I had no intention of becoming a Quidditch player in the future, but I knew that this was the dream for many of my teammates, and I didn't want to let them down. I suddenly knew why Sirius had wanted to refrain from telling me.

Still dosed up on medication, I decided to escape the world for another hour or two. I yawned again, this one real, and shuffled down the bed and under the covers.

"I think I'm going to catch up on some sleep," I said ironically, stretching as far as I could before lactic acid surged through my weak muscles and forced them back down. "I'll see you later."

They nodded and left, but Sirius hung behind, getting up from the chair he had been sitting at and perching on the bed at the crook of my waist. That was the soft pressure on my bed I remember feeling. After the night I found him crying, Sirius and I were as close as brothers. Before, any mention of feelings other than mischief and anger had been off limits, awkward, but now I didn't feel that anymore. Neither of us needed to.

So being able to share his feelings, he was able to confront mine.

"Are you Ok, James?" he asked sincerely. He didn't believe the fever had been brought on by a simple bug, not when he had lived with the Dark Arts.

"I'm fine now," I assured him meaningfully, with a small inclination of my head meant only for him.

"You were trying to beat Malignatious weren't you? You were teaching Kaise. People keep telling me strange things are happening in the first year classes." I nodded guiltily, feeling much like a child being scolded.

"It's Ok, James, you just can't do that again. You have no idea the effects dark magic can have on a person, no matter the intention. It scars the soul." It was odd to hear Sirius talk about soul when he insisted he was a man of science, but I listened anyway.

"I think I have some idea," I reminded him, gesturing around the infirmary. He shook his head.

"It gets much worse from here, James, believe me-"

"Don't worry Sirius. I hate the Dark Arts. I hate them with such an odd fury it feels darker than even they are. I'll never do it again, I can't. It goes against the laws of morality. It goes against- humanity." Sirius nodded in recognition of my disgust and contempt, assuring me that he had felt it too.

"Get some sleep, James, we'll see you when you're feeling better."

"Thanks, Siri."

A/N: I didn't really think it through in the last chapter when James offers to help Kaise. Obviously it'd be a lot more complicated than that. Therefore James would have to do dark magic and my belief is his body would reject it quite physically, James being at heart too morally upright. I don't know if this chapter was necessary but I feel James' hate for the dark arts must stem from somewhere so I speculate. Please review!