Remus got back first. James was playing exploding checkers with himself in the Gryffindor common room when he friend came slouching in. Remus' body language was that of a person who did not want to be disturbed by anyone or anything, and instead of stopping to say so much as 'hello', he headed straight up the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

"Hello, Moony," said James.

"Hello, Prongs," said Remus, and kept going. The door banged shut behind him.

He was in the dorm for about five minutes, then reappeared carrying a bath towel and his pajamas. Still without saying anything, he came down the stairs and headed up the hall towards the Gryffindor Prefects' bathroom.

"How was your date?" James asked.

"Don't talk to me, Prongs," Remus replied. A few seconds later, the bathroom door closed, and James heard water running.

"That good, eh?" James muttered to himself.

Weird.

Sirius returned about half an hour later, and also made straight for the dorms without stopping.

"Hello, Padfoot," said James.

"Hello, Prongs," said Sirius. And unlike Remus, he paused at the top of the stairs and leaned on the railing. "James," he said, "how long have we been friends now?"

James shrugged. "I dunno. Our Mums used to have tea together when we were five. If we had a 'first met', neither of us were old enough to remember it."

"So basically our whole lives," said Sirius.

"I guess," said James. "Do I want to know why you're asking?"

"Because," Sirius told him, "that means we've been friends for seventeen years, Prongs, and in seventeen years you have never humiliated me like you did today."

James had been about to take a red checker, but upon hearing that, he put the piece down and looked up at Sirius. The other boy was clearly angry, there was no doubt about that. But... "huh?" said James. "What did I do?"

"You picked a fight with Evans," said Sirius. "Right there, while I was trying to convince Rosalie that we're not the jerks we come across as."

James was beginning to seriously entertain the notion that he had somehow stumbled into an alternate universe. "Five minutes before that, you were telling her what I said about Sarah Tooke's breasts," James pointed out. "What was that supposed to convince her of?"

"It wasn't. It was supposed to make her laugh," said Sirius.

"And it's somehow funnier than Evans' little PMS attack?" James raised his eyebrows.

"James!" said Sirius. "For Merlin's sake, you made a joke about screwing her in front of half a dozen little old ladies... did you see the looks on the other customers' faces? We're never going to be able to go in there again!"

"Last year, you were proud of the list of places we'd been banned from," said James.

"Yeah, but we got kicked out of them on purpose," said Sirius. "Why do you do that with her anyway? You know, in three years I've never stopped to think about that... I thought you liked Lily Evans. In first year, when McGonagall called her up to be sorted, you leaned across the table and told me you were going to marry her someday. Your sketchbook is full of drawings of her. If you like Lily, then why do you take every chance you get to piss her off?"

Sirius was lecturing him. Sirius was lecturing him. He sounded like James' mother. "Does that really matter to you?" James asked.

"Well, apparently it matters to you who I like," said Sirius sourly.

"Sirius," said James. "You sound like a girl. You know what? Fine. Do what you want. Date who you want. And excuse me if I don't want to be seen at the last major social event ever at Hogwarts with a girl nobody will be jealous of me for." He jumped the red checker, which exploded with a puff of smoke and a very satisfying little pop. "What am I supposed to do with Evans?" he asked. "Show up with a bouquet of flowers and recite poetry for her?"

Sirius stared at him. "Are you following me around?"

"What?" asked James. "Where did that come from?"

"Answer the question," said Sirius. "Are you following me around invisible?"

"No!" said James. "Of course not! Why would I do that? What is the matter with you? What in the world makes you think I'm spying on you?"

Sirius shook his head. "Forget it."

James pushed his hands up into his hair. "Okay – a week ago we were best friends. Yesterday you were sulking and Remus was gone. Today, Remus is sulking and you're accusing me of stalking you. What happened? What did I possibly say that made you think I was following you around?"

"Oh, for..." Sirius turned around and looked at the wall as he answered. "I thought you were making fun of me, because that's how I got Rosalie to go to Hogsmeade with me. She didn't want to, because she thought I was just doing it to sort of punish myself or something. But I knew she liked poetry, because I met her when I found her grandmother's poetry book. So I gave her a yellow rose, because Professor Sprout said yellow's the right colour for an apology, and I recited a poem for her, and she said yes."

James could not have been more surprised if Sirius had said he'd stood on his head and sang I'm Henry the Eighth until Cranmer relented. In fact, the latter would have been more in character for him. It had to be the Pod People. "You really did that?"

"Yeah," said Sirius, still staring at the wall. James would have bet that if he could have seen his friend's face, it would have been tomato red. "I figured it's like the triplets said, right? If you really want a girl to do something for you, you have to put some effort into it."

James' approach to girls was built on putting in as little effort as possible. The only thing he could think of to reply to that was to change the subject totally. "Have you got any idea what's eating Moony? He came through here and wouldn't talk to me."

"Not a clue," said Sirius. "I haven't seen him all day." And he vanished into the dorm.

That left James in the common room with his checkers and a bunch of first and second-year students who were trying to pretend they hadn't overheard the entire conversation. It was true enough, he thought, as he watched the checkers evaporate one by one in little clouds of red and black smoke. He did like Lily Evans. He liked her a lot. There wasn't another girl like her at Hogwarts... or anywhere else that he'd ever seen.

The first thing that had interested him in her was, of course, her looks. She wasn't as gorgeous as, say, Narcissa Black, but then not a lot of girls were. And with that dark red hair and those amazing green eyes that just seemed to look right through you... her eyes made him wish he could just cover her in emerald jewelry... rings, necklaces, bracelets, earrings, anklets, belts... and, in the best version of that particular fantasy, nothing else.

But beautiful wasn't all Lily was. She was as smart as a whip and as tough as leather – she'd been a heck of a Quidditch chaser before James' teasing had driven her off the team – and brave as a lion. And she seemed so much more real than most pretty girls. If Narcissa Black was the goddess on the pedestal, the Arwen of Hogwarts, so to speak, then Lily Evans was the Eowyn – the equally gorgeous but so much more earthy warrior babe.

What was he supposed to do about it, though? James had asked her out for the first time in third year, and had been sharply rebuffed... so he'd made a joke out of it to assuage his hurt feelings, and had tried to convince himself that dating wasn't really about who you liked, anyway. And both the joke and the approach to relationships had gone on to become chronic things... running gags, as it were. Sirius and Remus, neither of them interested in really getting serious with a girl, had been happy to go along with both...

... and Evans went off and dated Snivellus Snape. Every time James thought about it, he wanted to smash something. Snape didn't deserve her. James wasn't sure anybody on earth could really deserve a girl like Lily Evans, but if anyone did, that person sure as hell wasn't geeky, conniving, slimy, acne-ridden Snivellus. Merlin, but James hated him. What the hell did Snape have that James Potter didn't? He sure didn't show up with poems and flowers.

But after four years of the current situation, even if James had been willing to embarrass himself as Sirius had apparently done – and after that he accused James of humiliating him by doing something he should have known darned well James would do? – it was probably going to take a lot more than flowers and poems.

"Hey... um, Prongs?" said a voice.

James looked up, not wanting to know what it was this time... but it turned out to be Peter Pettigrew. He sat down opposite from James and leaned forward over the little table, speaking in a low voice. "Could you do something for me?"

"That depends," said James. "What would it be?"

"I need to borrow your invisibility cloak," said Peter. "Just for the one night."

"What are you going to use it for?" asked James.

"To be invisible," Peter replied, as if this should have been obvious. And while it was obvious, it was far from complete.

"To be invisible doing what?" James asked. He hoped his tone would convey that he was in no mood for anybody trying to be mysterious.

Apparently not. "Going downstairs," said Peter. "Please, Prongs? It's kind of important, but I'd really rather not say why. It's embarrassing. Please?"

James narrowed his eyes. "Are you seeing a girl?" he asked. If Peter Pettigrew had a girlfriend, even an ugly one, when James didn't, somebody or something was going to die. This was ridiculous.

"No, no," said Peter. "Of course not. I just need to get out of the dorm after dark, just for one night. Please?"

"No," said James, because he was annoyed.

"Oh," said Peter. "Well... thanks anyway. I guess. See you later." And he got up and went back upstairs.

Great – now Peter was in on it, too. Sirius and Remus were seeing girls, didn't want James' company, and were letting Peter in on something they wouldn't tell James about. James had always been the ringleader of their little group, while Peter tagged along because nobody would beat him up as long as he stayed close to the other three. What in Merlin's name was all this about?

He had a sinking feeling that the real explanation would be even worse than Pod People.