James pretended he did not notice the two month anniversary of his mother's death. He pretended that his hand was nothing less than a pair, certainly, as if it wasn't blatantly obvious that he only held one old, frayed King. He did not doubt that people saw through it, but, for once, this bluff was no for the other players. It was for himself.

He had recognized that ignoring his mother's death was not a solution by any means, that it was only prolonging the agony of loss. But he also realized that he could sift through it all at once; in order to maintain any sanity, there had to be moments where he could worry about Quidditch games, Amos Diggory, or the lack of entertainment in his classes.

So, instead of drinking, smoking, or fighting on February 25th, James practiced Quidditch for three hours. He stole bacon from Diggory's plate at breakfast as he talked to Lily about how their detention had been repeatedly delayed. And when the Marauders retreated to the library, he followed. The lines under his eyes were still visible, but they were no longer a defining feature. He wasn't as thin, though hardly anyone noticed due to a sudden growth spurt. There was an energy about him that hadn't been there before, even before Holidays.

He allowed himself to laugh loudly at Sirius' jokes, to feel the warmth of Lizzy's lips, to experience the rush that came with defying authority. James decided that fighting Sirius was more fun than two D.E.W.B.s at Hogsmeade anyway, and that there were better reasons for not doing homework than snorting drugs. He didn't need other things to make him feel alive, because life was already filled to the brim with that.

But he also allowed himself to feel like shit. He permitted a show of weakness, actually crying in front of Remus and Peter for the first time in his memory. Both had no idea what to do, but eventually decided on the right recourse- standing awkwardly and comforting from afar.

The watch his father had given him no longer sat uselessly in his drawer. He had moved it to the top of his dresser, unable to wear it, but feeling it needed to be out in the open.

Despite all these changes, the school continued to step on eggshells around him, until the day of February 26th, where the school woke up to find that several statues in the school had been remodeled to resemble all the Hogwarts' staff members. Which would've been completely unremarkable had they not all been in Greek poses and completely nude. When passing, they'd shout obvious innuendos in exact likeness of whoever they represented.

This prank, while unremarkable when compared to some others pulled off by the Marauders, was one of the most remembered. Not only did it solve the mystery of what the four of them had been doing in the library for the past week, it solidified something that Lily had been thinking for quite some time now.

James Potter was recovering, and that made her remarkably happy for some reason.

The detention finally took place a week after the Nude Statue Prank. It had been postponed several times for no particular reason, it seemed, but all the same the four of them met in McGonagoll's office at seven. It began with the following words:

"Wands, please."

The four of them handed their wands over reluctantly into her waiting palm. She stuck them firmly in her robe pocket before continuing, "Mr. Filch is expecting you in the trophy room, Black. You know what to do."

Sirius groaned, massaging his soon-to-be sore arms as he left the classroom.

"Pettigrew, the Gryffindor Quidditch locker rooms need to be cleaned. Do not leave until Madam Pomfrey would be satisfied with their sanitary condition. Potter - oh, honestly, Pettigrew, it isn't that bad- Potter and Evans, I have papers for you to grade."

James and Peter's jaws dropped, but both thought it best to not comment. Peter, obviously receiving the worse punishment, trudged towards the locker rooms, shooting James jealous glares. He couldn't very well be blamed- James knew how awful his team was with keeping those rooms tidy.

But James wasn't about to speak up- his punishment was grading papers. He wondered why McGonagall would trust him with students' grades, but he figured that's why Lily was there. There was a large stack of parchment on the desk, and, as McGonagoll left the classroom, the pair of them started drearily toward their task.

"She does realize that we could just walk out, right? Why doesn't she stay and supervise?" Lily asked, looking over her shoulder as she picked up half of the stack and moved to another desk.

"There's a Charm on the door that lets McGonagall know if we open it," he answered, settling himself behind the Professor's desk. "Padfoot and I haven't figured out the countercharm yet."

Lily scoffed, but he couldn't tell if it was from disapproval or disappointment. He scanned the parchment- the first few at least were third-year Transfiguration tests, easy enough to grade. He pulled the top one off of the stack, instantly seeing the first answer was wrong.

"Ah, you wouldn't happen to have an extra quill, would you?"

Lily shook her head, her long eagle feather quill already twitching as she marked several questions.

James shrugged and searched through the desk, finding nothing but homework and lesson plans. Not even a test key, which was really quite the disappointment, because those could be sold for quite a high price. He did, however, finally find a rather short quill, but it did the job. As he dipped it in a pot of ink on the desk, he declared, "Evans, I have a proposal."

"Oh, do tell," she said, her voice dripping in sarcasm. She had apparently remembered to be mad at him again. James was aware that Lily was angry with him, he could just never tell when she decided to enforce it. Or why. At all, really.

"I think both of us can agree that we'll be here for a while. Care to make it interesting? Or would you prefer to work in silence for hours?"

Lily looked up from the parchment in front of her, quill still poised. "I don't think you and I share the same idea of interesting as of late."

"Meaning?"

"That my idea of interesting isn't practically shagging behind the Greenhouses during class."

"Oh, and yours would be practically avoiding your boyfriend like the plague during weekends?"

"I already told you, Potter, I am NOT avoiding Amos! I happen to fancy him, and just because we're not joined at the lips like you and Lizzy-"

"I'm not in the mood to argue with you for the next three hours, alright, Evans? I was just going to suggest we play a game, but Merlin..."

They silently graded papers for a grand total of thirty seconds before curiosity obviously got the best of Lily.

"A game? What are we, six?"

"Anything to pass the time," James admitted. "Or does grading Trans-?"

"Yeah, I'm sure that was extremely witty and all, but can you just tell me what the game is?"

James laughed despite himself. She really was pissed at him, wasn't she? He supposed she had a right to be, she was serving detention because of him. All the same, he would've thought she'd have gotten over that by now. "I ask a question, you answer, you ask a question I answer. Refusing to answer gives the other a point. And don't try to lie, Evans, I'll be able to tell. First to ten wins, okay?"

"Alright," Lily said, a little too eagerly for James to be comfortable. "Me first. What happened between you and Snape before my birthday? I know it wasn't that duel that you told the rest of the school."

His breath caught in his throat, but he tried to play it off as a cough. His first instinct was to lie, but that defeated the whole purpose of the game, didn't it? He couldn't bloody well tell her the truth, though, and even any absurdly vague answer gave her too much information. Lily wasn't stupid, she'd figure it out if he even hinted. "Alright, you get a point, I'm not answering," he admitted, angry that he was already losing. "What did you get on your Transfiguration O.W.L. last year?"

Her mouth went from a triumphant grin to a straight line as she stared at him, abandoning the test she was grading. James knew exactly what dilemma she was in- Transfiguration was his best subject, Lily ran the risk of admitting to a lower grade than James, something he knew her pride wouldn't allow. Marks were a one-sided competition, because, though James blatantly didn't make an effort, it would be humiliating to Lily to admit that she wasn't as intelligent.

"Alright, point to you," she said, taking the safe route. James tried not to smile as he marked an entire page incorrect. She would abandon any option with a risk. "Most embarrassing moment?"

"Ooh, right to the heart, Evans. First year, had to run up to the dorm starkers after hazing. I wouldn't feel to bad- we got our revenge. When did you start your period?"

Lily blushed scarlet, unable to look him in the eye. "Fourth year."

"Yeah, you were particularly pissy that year."

"Ha ha. How much do you weigh?"

Oh, she thought she was going to get a point with that? He might be scrawny, but he sure wasn't about to give her the edge. "About ten stone. How much do you weigh?"

"Eight and half," she said. "You didn't honestly think that was going to work with me, did you?"

"You thought it would work on me," James defended, smiling despite himself. It was a game, and anything that involved competition was for him. "Why did you and Snape stop being mates?"

She tensed slightly, but her voice was even. "He called me a Mudblood. It was the last straw. But you knew that, why waste the question?"

"I was just making sure," James evaded. He was making sure that she was telling the truth, not the reason behind her and Snivellus' break-up. "Why don't you like me?"

"You're just too arrogant," Lily sighed. "It's like you own the place, like you think you're better than everyone else and you're not. I suppose I just can't look past that..." It was a very quick answer, and James had a hard time believing that she hadn't thought about this a lot. "Why do you like me, then?"

"I... I don't really know," James admitted. He'd actually asked himself that question quite often, not to mention all the times that Sirius had. But it was always difficult to come up with an answer- he wanted to say that it was because she was hot, but there were plenty of other hot girls at this school. Usually he just gave up and said it was because he couldn't have her, but James had a hard time believing his interest in Lily Evans would be quelled if she agreed to date him.

Lily looked skeptical. "That's a point for me."

"It is not!" James objected loudly. "I really don't know, I'm not lying. You're just an interesting bird, I guess."

She rolled her eyes. "Even I know why you're interested, Potter- I'm the only one that doesn't give you what you want."

"And here I was thinking that you hadn't noticed how matey the Slytherins and I have been lately," James said sarcastically, dipping the dismal excuse for a quill back in the ink bottle. It was so short that ink was beginning to stain his fingers.

"Don't be smart with me."

"Sorry, didn't mean to upset you, Evans," he said, putting both his hands up defensively. "Just ask a question, 'kay?"

She glared at him for a moment, but her eyes resumed scanning the tests after a moment. "It's your turn."

"Oh, right," James said, feeling decidedly stupid. Looking to redeem himself, he asked, "Are you a virgin?"

Lily's jaw dropped. "That's none of your business, Potter, and it's a very personal question. I can't believe you'd-"

"So that's a yes, then?" He grinned, his mood suddenly lifted.

"Fine! Yes, I am, what's it you? Nevermind, don't answer. I have a better question. Why do you fancy Lizzy?"

"She's nice," James spat, staring directly at her. "You said I should value that more, didn't you?"

"You're using her," Lily declared, holding James' gaze. "It's really awful, to use somebody like that. I thought you were above that."

"Did you? Did you really? This sounds exactly like something you'd think I'd do."

"Well, I was right, wasn't I?"

"That's not what I meant!" James shouted, backtracking. "I'm not using her! Just because her and I don't share the profound connection that you and Diggory have doesn't mean somebody's going to get hurt here! Lizzy knows what's she's getting into."

"Oh, you mean like Emmeline and Cassandra and Bethany? Like Mary and Rebecca and Rachel? You mean like how they knew what they were getting into?" Lily shouted, not even pretending to grade tests anymore. "They still ended up crying in the girls' loo! Do you really not see what they expected from you? You lead them all on, you used all of them! You and Black are one in the same."

James had been told more times than he could count that Sirius and he were like brothers, that their similarities were too numerous to be ignored, but this time it was different. This time, it wasn't a compliment, and James knew exactly what Lily was indirectly talking about. "I would never do what Sirius did to Dorcas."

"Oh, please, I'd be surprised if you hadn't done it before. Sirius doesn't think he did anything wrong, he has the audacity to break up with her, believes that she should have seen it coming, not to mention he doesn't even recognize that he hurt her at all-"

"Shut up!" One of the desks inexplicably twitched. James noticed and bit sharply on his tongue before speaking again. "Leave Sirius out of this, he's a good bloke, better than Diggory at any rate."

"Really? Amos would never cheat on a girlfriend, he's far too much of a gentleman for that. The only Marauder that seems to have any decency in him in Remus, and you've even taken some of that out of him! The rest of you decide that ethics don't apply to you, I guess, because-"

"Do you ever shut up? Honestly, Evans, do you ever shut up and think that maybe there's more to people than what they do in school? Or are you always this prissy?"

"I am not-" Lily suddenly closed her eyes, exhaling loudly. "I should not be yelling at you. You have enough stress to deal with."

He didn't have to ask what she meant. Nodding vaguely, he grinded his foot into the ground as silence overtook them. He wanted to argue more, but knew that it wasn't a smart move to pursue a row with Lily. The awkwardness hung heavy in the air, but neither of them took the initiative to break it until, after about fifteen minutes of complete silence, Lily spoke.

"It's my turn. What's your favorite color?"

James looked up. Lily's expression was nervous, almost apologetic, and he recognized the question not as a continuance of the game, but as a truce. A question as trivial couldn't be an attempt to gain a point; rather, it was an attempt at civil conversation, at a future of greetings, less arguing, smiling in the hallways, or at least possessing the ability to not yell at each other for five minutes.

"Red."

She grinned. "Obviously."

His sessions with Drake were odd, to say the least.

James always entered late, but no longer was he trying to make a statement. He was just busy. Drake seemed to always be eating when he came in, and always hurriedly explained that she has missed dinner. She would then glance at his file for a moment before asking him seven questions, after which he was ordered to leave.

He had first noticed it was always seven questions after their fourth session, and was very perplexed as to why it was seven. And while he reasoned that it was probably some crackpot shrink technique to get him to open up, he couldn't shake the feeling that it meant more. James once asked her why seven, but she had shaken him off, instead analyzing his observational skills for ten minutes.

That was the other thing- how did she know him so well? How did she take these ridiculously small details and arrive at a conclusion that James knew was true? James knew she had talked to someone, but her point from their first meeting remained true- he had told countless people the information she'd rattled back to him. He didn't exactly have a clear list of suspects.

All in all, these meetings were very routine. So when James entered the room yet again, eleven minutes late, and Drake was just sweeping about a pound of orange peels into the bin, he wasn't phased in the least.

"Hello, James. How are you?"

Question one."Fine. You?"

She grinned, as if she had just recognized a secret joke. "Tired, if you must know. I've been reviewing applications for the past two hours, but my decision had been made long ago."

"Applications?" James asked as he took a seat. "For what?"

"Interns. The psychological field is of great interest to many, especially in dark times. People want to know the inner workings of minds that torture and kill for pleasure. Minds like those that murdered the Brookings..." James supposed on paper her words would have sounded concerned, but her voice, with that permanent crisp feel to it, made the questions clinical.

"Yeah, I read about that," James responded.

"And how did it make you feel, the murders?"

His first instinct was sarcasm, to make some sharp comment about how splendid the whole thing really was, but he knew that this wasn't at all a joke. "Enraged. Revolted."

"Do you think you could ever kill a person, James?"

"No." His answer was instant. "Taking a life is taking a life, no matter how you color it."

"So, what do you think should be done with the murderers?" Drake never wrote anything down, like James always envisioned a shrink would. Her eyes never left his, something that he found both unnerving and comforting.

"Azkaban," James answered simply.

Drake chuckled. "The son of a true Auror. Never questioned the results, only intentions. I'd say Azkaban is far worse than death- to relive only the worst of your life must be worse than life ending."

"Life is always worth living."

Drake raised an eyebrow. "In all circumstances? The perpetually disabled, the mentally ill, serial murderers, and even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named should all live, according to you."

James opened his mouth to respond, but the words were stuck in his throat as his morality caught up to her words. "I could never kill someone," he reiterated.

"So you'll rely on others to carry out actions you deem morally apprehensible, but must to prevent further harm. You're too weak to do it yourself."

"Or my morals are too strong," James snapped, irked at being called weak.

"I would argue that they are one in the same. The Dark Lord, if he was caught, would have to be killed. Murderers of a single person are sent to Azkaban for a lifetime. Surely, someone who has orchestrated a genocide deserves more."

"But at what point are we the same as them? What makes us different is that we stick to our morals, that we don't compromise them for a purpose."

She didn't respond, opting for silence to meet his words instead. Drake merely shifted a piece of paper on her desk, shifting her eyes downward briefly before they flashed back up to his face. "If death is the worst thing that can happen to any of us, then why do so many face it for others? I find it difficult to believe that you would not die for a friend, and you are so willing to join the Auror program, where death is not only fine print but a headline. So it is not only people whom are worth dying for, but causes. Principles." James mulled over her words, but she didn't stop talking.

"You claim life is always worth living, but who deems that worth- the one dying or the one who has to keep living? It's not death that disturbs your morals, James- it's loss."

The truth of her words was not warm and inviting, but cold and metallic. He wanted to shrink away from it, but gritted his teeth as he stared back. Her seven questions had been asked, but James knew that they weren't random- they had been planned to lead him to this conclusion, to this reality; so he would draw the line between this conversation and his life, and realize that i wasn't his mother's death that hurt him, it was the loss of her, and he understood that those were two very different things.

"It isn't just about me," James said, his voice rising steadily. "My mum dying is about her. It wasn't her time to go, she wasn't ready."

"Charlotte was old, surely she knew that it couldn't go on forever."

"Fine, but she didn't deserve to die like that! She deserved to die with dignity and peace! Instead, she-"

"I understand why you're angry, James. But you have to realize- your mother lived far beyond the expectation of any Healer. She was sick. She knew she was going to die. Surely, it would've been easier to give up, but your mother stayed. For Harold. For you. She fought to stay for both of you, because this loss really is worse than death. Charlotte died how any other witch would've with that disease- harshly. It is not about what she deserved, it's about what she got. I know it's not what you want to hear right now, but it was her time."

"Says who?" James shouted, rising to his feet. "Who says it was her time? Who gets to decide?"

"It's no one's choice. It's a part of life. If you say life has inherent value, you have to recognize that part of that worth comes from that reality that it is not infinite. It ends. Charlotte's death is no longer about her- she played her cards, she lived her life. Her death is about those that she left behind. She-"

The door opened slowly, but the distraction had been enough for both of them to pause as Amos Diggory hesitantly looked around the room. "Sorry," he said, "but this just arrived for you, Miss Drake. It says urgent, so the Headmaster had me run right over-"

"Yes, bring it here," she commanded in a very McGonagall-like tone. Diggory rushed down to give it her, nodding in recognition as passed James. Drake snatched the letter out of his hand, shaking her head sharply as he made to leave. "No, I might want to respond quickly. Stay."

Diggory nodded as she scanned the letter from her desk. "Sure thing." Drake pulled out her own sheet of parchment and quill as soon as she set the letter down, beginning what James presumed to be a very dull response.

"Hey, Potter. Quidditch game Saturday, right?"

"Yep," James answered curtly. "You'll be playing, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it. Gonna be a great match."

"I wouldn't plan on it lasting too long. Angela caught the Snitch in six minute last night at practice."

"Right... Well, best of luck..." Diggory said awkwardly, looking relieved when Drake handed him her letter. He was almost out of the room when he halted at Drake's words.

"Diggory- you're the one dating Lily Evans, is that right?"

He nodded, grinning broadly. James wondered if such a broad grin would make it easier to knock all his teeth out.

"Well," Drake said, "that is a great match."

But she wasn't looking at Diggory.