It's short and I haven't updated in a while, but I hope you like it. 00sunflower00 asked for some angsty James stuff like this, and Anonymouse (guest) wanted some tears from James.

I'm sorry it's so late, but I'm in a competition this year and it's taking up a lot of my writing time.

Good news: My monster of a fic, Silver Bullets, is done and published! I am immensely proud of it, so please check it out. Be warned: it's super dark and has some Wolfstar slash, but I think it turned out really well!

Love you guys! Keep reviewing.


MECHANICAL SMILE

James was still smiling, even as he watched sadly as Remus picked at his food.

"Moony," he said, very quietly.

"What?" The werewolf looked up with a scowl.

"You need to eat."

Remus sighed, and at that moment all James would see were the heavy bags under his eyes, the sickly pallor of his skin, the downward tug of his mouth. "I'm not in the mood, James."

"Eat."

As Remus stabbed dejectedly at a piece of bacon, James turned around just as Sirius received a letter from his parents. He reached out and snatched it from Sirius's fingers, ripping it up without saying a word.

Sirius scowled in the same way Remus had. It was an "I can take care of myself!" scowl; it was a "Stop bloody mothering me!" scowl. Sirius stood and strode out of the room, brows furrowed and eyes dark.

Before Sirius was even out of sight, a Slytherin from the year above shoved past Peter and said: "Watch it, Porker Pettigrew."

James resisted the urge to scream as he glared after the Slytherin, turning to Peter and saying, "Don't listen to them, Pete. They're just being pricks."

Peter didn't reply, pushing the rest of his plate an inch further away from himself.

The day only spiralled from there, with a stoic Sirius, a distracted Remus and a jumpy Peter. James spent every ounce of his energy trying to get them to talk, to do something together, to stop them running off to wallow on their own. It got worse as Lily Evans completely ignored his attempt at a decent conversation at lunch, and another letter came from St Mungo's about his parents (We've decided it's in your parents' best interest to increase the dosage of the potions we've been administering, to prevent further damage to their lungs. If you and your parents consent, this could cause the following adverse effects…). End-of-year exams were approaching and his most recent Charms essay had earned him a measly P.

He sat in the bathroom, leaning against the sinks, trying to control the worry eating away at his chest. He splashed his face with icy water before going back out into the dormitory.

Both Sirius and Remus's beds were empty, and Pete had his hangings tightly closed around his own. James stood in the middle of the silent dormitory and closed his eyes for a moment, taking a shaky breath.

"Pete?" he called through the curtains. "Where're the others?"

No response.

"Wormtail, please."

A shift in the heavy red fabric and Peter stuck his head out. "Remus was doing his Ancient Runes and suddenly ripped the parchment up and started swearing. He walked out a few minutes later."

"And Padfoot?"

"He stormed out the moment you went into the bathroom."

James breathed in and then out, keeping his face carefully passive. "Right."

Peter disappeared back into his bed.

As if he was the prison guard, the moment James had left, their group started escaping. His heart stuttered as he wondered if Sirius loved him as a brother the way he said he did. He wondered if Remus cared about their group at all. And it was silly because they had the right to act like this. Of course they did! Sirius suffered from a beastly family and Remus was a bloody werewolf, but James couldn't help but think it was unfair. He tried so hard, and usually, it paid off. Usually, they could laugh together or play a prank, but on days like this everything fell apart through his fingers and he wanted to leave forever and never look back.

"Wormtail, I'm gonna make sure Remus is alright."

Again, there was no response and he could only glare half-heartedly through the curtains towards where his friend lay. He walked out of the dormitory, ignoring the greetings directed at him from the inhabitants of the common room, and wandered the corridors of Hogwarts.

He wasn't going to make sure Remus was alright; the werewolf would only hate him more for it, and James wouldn't know where to start looking, anyway. Sirius was an equally hopeless case, but something in James didn't want to see him anyway. He knew he was being bitter, but Sirius hadn't even seen his family for a year, so what right did he have to make everyone miserable about it?

James found a suitably empty classroom still full of desks. He loved his friends and wanted nothing more than being with them, but on days like this, his emotions running high, he just couldn't.

He just couldn't.

With a frustrated yell, James lifted his wand and thrust it towards the nearest desk, which flew and smashed against the back wall. He did it again and again until the classroom floor was covered in splintered wood and he'd cut his cheek on flying debris. The magic thrummed in his veins and it was angry, pulsing in waves from his chest.

When the sudden fit of rage had burned out of him, he put his back to the wall and slid down into a crouch, burying his head in his knees when he felt the first tear brush his cheek.

Crying. He really shouldn't be. There was no reason for the tears that kept falling, but they wouldn't stop now that the floodgates had opened. Lupin was excused to cry, but he never did. So did Sirius and Peter, but James? James had no reason to cry. For the past year or so he hadn't let himself, stifling his emotions under a mask of carefreeness But here he was, and years of pent up stress and anger and—though he wouldn't admit it—fear. Fear for his friends, for life out of school, for how he could possibly cope with everything weighing down on him like this.

The salt of his tears stung at the bleeding cut on his cheek and he raised his wand to siphon it off his face. He scrubbed every trace of his pain off with the sleeve of his jumper. With a final deep breath, he left the classroom with its graveyard of splintered desks behind him. In his chest, layers of emotion were pressed as far down as he could manage.

And on top of it all, James plastered a smile.


00sunflower00 and Anonymouse, I hoped you enjoyed it!

Reviews would make my day!