Chapter 18: Like a Breath of Spring

Lily didn't know a lot about quidditch: she knew just about enough to get through house matches, or to understand about sixty percent of what people were talking about at the breakfast table—basically, no more than she absolutely had to know. When some of her housemates had discovered her true apathy in the face of their sporting obsession, she had been viewed with distrust and horror, but really, no one should have been surprised. No one who knew her, anyway. She abhorred sports, almost without exception (tennis could have its moments), much to the continued disappointment of her father who was a lifelong supporter of the England national rugby team, as well as the Warrington Wolves, his local league team growing up in Cheshire. Her sporty father—not only a rugby fan, but a supporter of Liverpool FC, and a cricket obsessive—Anthony Evans had never met a sport he didn't like, and Lily had to imagine that having two of the least sporty daughters in the world was probably at least a bit of a let-down. Still, she knew what she liked, and it wasn't sitting outside in the cold watching a ball be passed back and forth, whether that was on the ground or in the air.

One of the things she didn't like about sport was the way that people seemed to live or die with their team's success. In the week leading up to the final quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw, the atmosphere in the Great Hall had taken a palpable turn; James and the rest of his team tended to sit together, huddled over their meals and speaking in low voices as if worried someone might overhear their tactics. At one point, she saw James trying to demonstrate a new play using the salt and pepper shakers, waving his wand to direct them towards the 'goal' (the bowl of mashed potatoes). He acted like a general about to lead his men onto the battlefield. It was all a bit, well, over the top.

Not that the Ravenclaws seemed to be much better. For all their high-minded ideals and borderline snobbery about anything that wasn't considered academic, they seemed to care an awful lot about the approaching game. She had noticed that Remus and Owain had stopped eating together that week, presumably because they each received such a suspicious reception when dining at their boyfriend's house table. The Ravenclaw captain, seventh year Siobhan Byrne, went everywhere with a protection squad, apparently concerned that carousing Gryffindors might leap out from behind a tapestry to try to sabotage her.

James' reaction, on hearing of Siobhan's actions, had been a derisive snort. "As if we need to do any of that shit when we can just destroy her on the pitch."

Emotions were high all round, all week. On Monday, she watched on as Remus tried to comfort Peter, stoically ploughing his way through a bowl of chicken and leek soup after he and Iris had broken up again. "She said she needs time," he said, and Remus had nodded, as if that made perfect sense; Lily had managed not to interject and ask exactly what she needed time for.

At breakfast on Wednesday, the tables were abuzz with the news that Rafe and Aoife Walsh had broken up—"for good, this time," Alison Tratt had reported with no small amount of glee. Lily had glanced up, over to the Ravenclaw table, and noticed for the first time that the pair were sat well away from each other, pretending the other didn't exist. It made for an interesting change after months of seeing them draped over one another or getting intimate with each other's tonsils.

She found, to her surprise, that she didn't really care, one way or the other. He had treated Lily like crap, it was true, and she wasn't likely to forget that any time soon, but the shine of her hurt and humiliation had been buffed away to a dull finish, something that didn't so easily catch her eye. It probably helped that there were far bigger things in her life to worry about.

Apparently it was the week for break-ups: by Friday lunchtime, at least eight more couples (that she knew of, anyway) had split, making for rather more theatre in the corridors, in lessons and over the dinner table than usual. All of this relationship turbulence, paired with the building quidditch tensions, meant that Lily was almost looking forward to the approaching exams. It would be a relief to focus her attentions entirely on something which couldn't be dramatic, couldn't be anything but logical and rational. And maybe, just maybe, the other year groups—or at least, fifth, sixth and seventh years—would realise they needed to concentrate, too, and the excitement could ebb away for a while.

A girl could dream.

Apart from Peter and Iris—and Lily wasn't sure they really counted, given how often they broke up and made up—no one else in her close circle of friends seemed to have been affected by the wave of relationship drama. Not that she wanted any of them to be, of course. James and Cadence seemed happy, although she had noticed that they were spending less time together than they had done before Easter. Again, not that it was of any interest to her, of course. Remus and Owain were going strong, as far as she could tell, despite their differing quidditch loyalties. And Sirius and Mary…well, whatever was going on there still seemed to be going on. She didn't like to pry; Mary would tell her, eventually.

Those less interested in quidditch were abuzz with talks of the next Hogsmeade weekend, coming up just before the start of exams, but Lily couldn't rouse even her usual level of interest in that. In fact, two boys had already asked her to accompany them: Benjy Fenwick, Iris' brother in seventh year, a sweet if slightly boring chap; and George McMillan, who apparently had no concept of the don't-date-your-mate's-ex code, which would've had her saying no even if she had been remotely interested, which she wasn't.

She wasn't sure she would say yes to anyone, at this point. Her mind felt so saturated, overwhelmed with everything going on, that even if someone she liked asked, someone like—

She cut that thought off before it could take form. It did her no good to linger over these ruminations, and she'd only end up feeling more confused than ever.

At least after today, the talk of quidditch would die down; she just had to get through the match first.

Marlene, Dorcas and Mary had already headed down to lunch by the time Lily had pulled herself out of bed, feeling a bit resentful that she had to be up and about before noon on a Saturday just for bloody sport. She felt a bit brighter by the time she'd showered and changed, pairing jeans with a Gryffindor-red jumper (any time she'd tried attending a house match in clothes that weren't red, she'd been harassed unrelentingly—it no longer seemed worth the hassle), and the sight of the cool but bright day out of the castle windows as she made her way down to the Great Hall even gave her a little bit of a spring in her step.

She entered the hall just as the Gryffindor team were leaving to make their way down to the pitch; James briefly caught her eye, managing a small, tense smile as he led the group, and she paused there in the doorway, wondering why she felt this strange tug in her gut to follow him, to talk to him and ease the strain from his brow.

It was an urge she swallowed down, drawing a steadying breath before she moved to join her friends at the lunch table. "There's Sleeping Beauty," Mary teased as Lily sank onto the bench opposite her, already reaching for the teapot. "I was just beginning to wonder if you'd make it to the match at all…"

Lily raised a weary eyebrow. "As if you lot would give me a moment's peace if I missed it."

"Oh, Lil," Marlene sighed, leaning over to drop a plump white bread roll onto her friend's plate. "I'm going to make you a quidditch fan if it's the last thing I do."

"That," Lily considered, liberally spreading butter and layering cheese onto said roll, "sounds like a threat."

"That's because it is."

Lily looked over at Sirius. "Are the Ravenclaw team good this year?"

"They are," he replied with a nonchalant shrug. "But we're better. Ornella turns out to be a bloody good Keeper, and I think the new Chaser is holding up well."

She chewed, her thoughts drifting to Charlie Swift for a few moments. That whole situation felt entirely unfinished, and utterly unjust, but it seemed as if all talk of her had died down, and the staff were unwilling to address it if anyone asked. It sent a chill through her, to think that someone had forced Charlie into doing what she had done—and that someone was still roaming the castle, free to do what they liked.

Maybe it was best not to think about it too much. Not when she had so many other thoughts swirling in her mind.

It wasn't long before her friends wanted to join the crowds heading down to the pitch, apparently concerned about getting good seats, and so she took the remainder of her sandwich with her for the walk. Out in the fresh air of the morning, she fell into step with Remus, shooting him a crumb-y smile. "Think you and Owain will still be talking to each other by the end of today?"

Remus laughed. "He's like you, he's not that interested in quidditch," he replied. "He told me last night that he 'couldn't care less' who wins, although he also made me swear not to tell his dorm mates."

She smiled. "I knew I liked him for a reason." She paused, wondering why she wanted to ask her next question. "How are James and Cadence coping with the inter-house rivalry?"

His smile faded just slightly, which was telling, and he hesitated before he replied. "I'm not sure she has twigged exactly how serious this stuff is for him," he said, quite diplomatically. "She's made a few jokes, I think thinking it's just friendly banter. But…"

"Potter doesn't do quidditch banter," Lily nodded in understanding. She'd found that out the hard way at the start of fifth year, when she'd gently teased him about his various pre-game superstitions and received a barrage of stressed-out ranting that had only ended when Sirius had led him away, trying not to laugh. "See, this is what I don't like about sports. Surely there are bigger things to worry about than if a ball goes through a hoop."

Remus smiled, shaking his head. "I think whether the ball goes through the hoop or not is quite a nice distraction from all the things we have to worry about, to be honest."

She bobbed her head, dusting crumbs from her hands now that her sandwich was finished. "You make a good point."

Up in the stands, the atmosphere was electric: the Gryffindor fans were well aware that, if they won this game, it wouldn't just be a victory over Ravenclaw—always a satisfying prospect—but it would also secure them the house cup. McGonagall had been making comments about how much she enjoyed having the trophy in her office, a rather unsubtle attempt, Lily thought, at piling on the pressure the team were already battling against. But Lily wasn't without house pride. Winning the house cup, especially over Ravenclaw, a house she would forever now associate with conniving, cheating bastards, would be a great way to round out the year.

Sirius and Mary were leading the crowd in a rousing rendition of the Bread of Heaven song ("one of my finest accomplishments," Remus grinned) as the game got underway, red and blue blurring past at lightning speed. If it weren't for the commentary, she would have been clueless as to what was actually going on—and even with it, she wasn't entirely sure. She knew enough to know when to cheer, when to boo, when to shout abuse. That tended to be plenty to get her through an average game.

This was not an average game, as it turned out. Play went on for an excruciating two and a half hours (Lily knew the time down to the second, because she'd been checking her watch every five minutes), each team wracking up points at a fairly even pace with no sign of the snitch. James looked like he was flagging—highly unusual for him, but she supposed, given his recent injuries, it was to be expected—and had, again, unusually, missed out on scoring some crucial points throughout the game, caught out by the Ravenclaw Keeper. In fact, it was new Chaser Alf Gudgeon who scored most of the points for Gryffindor.

Ravenclaw were up by thirty points when Ruthie Bowden, the Gryffindor Seeker, tore across the pitch in a flurry of red and gold, hand clasping around the snitch only moments before her rival Seeker reached the same spot. Around her, the crowd went wild, and Lily was drawn into the celebratory atmosphere, jumping up and down, hugging everyone close enough to hug as Sirius chanted, hoarse and delighted, "We won the cup! We won the cup!"

It seemed like the entirety of Gryffindor house swarmed the pitch, Ruthie being hoisted onto someone's shoulders while the other team members found themselves embraced and praised with abandon. Through the mass of people, Lily could see James, a look on his face that she didn't quite believe: he was smiling, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Congrats!" He turned to meet her gaze as she reached his side, and she found the smile even less believable up close. "That was one hell of a match…"

"Thanks, Evans," he nodded, tentatively rolling his shoulder—the shoulder, she remembered, that had featured that long, jagged scar. "Sorry it was so long, I know it's not really your thing."

She gave him a patient smile. "Hardly your fault that the snitch went into hiding." She paused. "Is your shoulder—"

She never got to finish her question, because Cadence squeezed through the crowd, a bright smile on her face as she stood on her tiptoes for a kiss. "Well done, Jamie," she beamed, pinching his cheek fondly. "That was bloody close, wasn't it?"

James exhaled; Lily wondered if it was her imagination that he was avoiding looking over at her now. "Very."

Sirius had sidled over, too, draping his arm casually around Lily's shoulders. "You did great, Prongs."

"Thanks, mate," James managed a more realistic-looking smile.

"You did," Cadence agreed, a twinkle in her eye. "And thank you for giving our Keeper something to do, saving all your goals kept him from falling asleep."

Lily couldn't help her cringe—this was the so-called 'banter' Remus had mentioned. How did Cadence not see the look on James' face? It seemed as clear as day to Lily: he looked about ready to lose it.

"Thanks," was his short reply, smile gone completely.

"Oh, come on, babe," Cadence stroked his arm, and although her tone was conciliatory, she was still grinning, a move which rather undercut her words. "You still won the game and the cup! You don't need to be a grump just because you only scored twenty points."

Sirius opened his mouth, apparently about to attempt to salvage this conversation, but James cut him off, pulling his arm out of Cadence's reach. "Don't you have a cup-losers party to go to?" he asked coldly; now, her smile was gone entirely, and Lily swallowed down against the burning sense of discomfort, being here for this argument. "I'm sure your team will find these much funnier."

Cadence was frowning, apparently not having seen this mood coming. "Hey, come on, it was only a joke—"

"Yeah, well, give it a rest," he snapped. "It's not fucking funny."

"James—"

"I need a shower," he cut her off, looking over at Sirius and Lily. "See you up at the tower."

And with that he was gone, pushing through the crowds back towards the locker room, leaving his girlfriend looking shell-shocked. Lily felt rather sorry for her; the girl looked like she might cry, if given the opportunity.

"I didn't—" she started, looking at Lily, then Sirius, as if searching for support. "I was just—it was a joke."

Sirius sighed. "James doesn't joke about quidditch, Cady," he pointed out. "And he's clearly still struggling with his shoulder, no wonder he didn't play like he usually does."

Cadence's face fell even further, something Lily didn't think was possible. "Shit…I didn't realise…he never said…" She looked over in the general direction of the locker rooms. "Should I…?"

"I'd give him some space," Sirius suggested. "Talk to him tomorrow, once he's calmed down a bit."

Cadence nodded, biting her lip before she turned, melting back into the crowd. Lily watched her go, a strange sort of feeling in the pit of her stomach, one she didn't want to acknowledge or name. "Well…"

Sirius nodded, giving her a squeeze before he let go of her shoulders. "Well, indeed," he said. "This could be a very strange victory party."

Lily's mind was still on James' face, the hurt and frustration there, as they made their way back up to the castle. Something she didn't want to be thinking about, but something she couldn't seem to shift at all.

The only solution? To get drunk.

Remus was used to odd and interesting scenes at Gryffindor parties. His housemates didn't do things by halves; they didn't have the reputation for the wildest parties at Hogwarts for no reason, after all. And, with a quidditch win as well as the house cup under their collective belts, this party was no exception: in the space of about an hour, most of his peers were well on the way to drunk if not already there; a crowd was dancing with reckless fervour on a makeshift dancefloor by the fireplace; a breakout game of Strip Gobstones had ended up with a few injuries and at least two seventh years down to their underwear.

But none of these were the strangest thing he saw that night. No, that dubious honour was reserved for the sight of Sirius Black—taciturn, supposedly-fancying-Remus Sirius—laughing and joking with Owain.

When he first spotted them, he briefly wondered if his drink had been spiked with some kind of hallucinogenic. But, after Pete gamely confirmed that he saw it, too, he had to come to terms with the fact that it looked…well…it looked like Sirius and Owain were getting on with each other.

Resisting the temptation to march over there and find out exactly what it was that had them both so entertained, Remus did what any sane and rational person would do: he lurked on the periphery, watching them closely in a way that made him feel a bit like a man obsessed, trying to work out what the hell was going on.

And, although various other people joined and left them over the next hour, the unlikely pair stayed in each other's company, all the while smiling and chatting as if there was nothing odd about this interaction at all.

Eventually, he couldn't bear it any longer: he got himself a large glass of whatever strange, purple concoction someone had mixed up for the occasion, and marched over to where they were sat by the windows.

"—like a total bellend!" Sirius was saying with a smirk, clearly enjoying Owain's enthused guffaw; both of them looked up at him with a grin. "Moony! We were wondering where you were."

That seemed unlikely, at least from Sirius' point of view—he'd spent the past few months in an odd limbo, sometimes hardly talking to Remus at all. Was it possible that they'd turned a corner, somehow, without Remus even realising? That maybe Lily had been wrong about Sirius' feelings after all? "I'm here," he replied, glancing from Sirius to Owain. "You two having fun?"

"Did you know old Olly here is a huge Queen fan?" Sirius asked cheerfully.

"I have two ears and a heart, don't I?" Owain reached for Remus' glass, snagging it to take a sip. "Bloody hell, what is in this?"

"If you can work it out, you win a prize," Sirius winked.

"I'm sure we've talked about Queen, anyway," Owain said, reaching for Remus, now; he drew him closer so that he tumbled to the sofa between them. "I distinctly remember telling you about the religious experience I have listening to Somebody to Love."

Remus wasn't sure how it was that he'd found himself here, squeezed between these two particular boys, chatting about music as if there wasn't something strange and awkward hanging over them all. He knocked back the remains of his drink (both Sirius and Owain raised their eyebrows in surprise) before he answered. "Yes, you've mentioned that a few times."

"Ah, well, who can blame you," Sirius shrugged with a grin. "You're only human."

"Exactly," Owain laughed in agreement.

Weird. Just weird. "Have you seen Prongs?" Remus asked Sirius; somehow, their friend seemed a safer topic than even something as uncontroversial as music.

"He's probably still in the showers," Sirius guessed, glancing around the room just in case. "He had a bit of a…disagreement, with Cadence, after the game."

"Oh, Christ, did she joke about quidditch again?" Remus asked with a wince.

"She did," Sirius confirmed. "It was awkward as fuck. Evans and I just stood there and tried not to look too embarrassed."

"But…you guys won," Owain pointed out, looking confused. "Shouldn't that put Potter in a great mood?"

"He'll feel like he let the team down, because he didn't score much," Sirius explained. "His shoulder's still giving him some grief, which doesn't help the mood, I should think."

"He probably shouldn't have been playing again yet," Remus considered. "Not that he would've listened if anyone had suggested that."

"Oh, Euphemia tried," Sirius laughed darkly. "You can imagine how that conversation went."

There was a pause as Remus reflected on this; he could well imagine how badly James had taken the suggestion. Then, the quiet was cut through by Owain speaking up.

"Oh, look—there he is."

They all looked over towards the portrait hole, seeing James—freshly showered, if still subdued-looking—emerge. He was almost instantly surrounded by his fellow Gryffindors, desperate to offer their thanks and congratulations. Remus could see the discomfort coming off of his friend in waves; he was doing a decent job at smiling through it, hugging and patting people on the back, but anyone who knew him well could have seen his unhappiness. "Should we rescue him?" Remus wondered.

"I'll go," Owain offered, hopping up from the sofa with a sprightliness that seemed unnatural, given how much he'd had to drink that evening. "No one will stop and talk to us because I'm the enemy."

"Good thinking," Sirius gave him a salute. "Good luck, try not to get kicked out for invading the opposition's territory."

Owain winked—winked—at Sirius before he headed off through the crowds and towards James, leaving an only slightly awkward silence behind him.

Remus paused before glancing over at his friend; Sirius was giving careful consideration to the label on his bottle of booze. At least Remus wasn't the only one who found this a bit uncomfortable. "So," he said. "You two are…friends."

Sirius looked up, seeming just a touch reluctant to meet his gaze. "Well, Flitwick keeps pairing us up in Charms," he shrugged. "What can I say—we've bonded."

As simple as that. Why did it still leave Remus with an odd sort of feeling, like the world had tilted ever so slightly on its axis—not enough to send anyone toppling, but enough to feel disconcerting, distracting. "Well…that's good."

Sirius looked away again, over to where Owain had reached James' side; sure enough, a Ravenclaw's presence seemed to be driving the hordes away. "And you two are a proper thing now, aren't you, so…not like he's going anywhere."

He wished he could understand the expression on his friend's face; wished he could just say what he meant. That they didn't both feel the need to do whatever strange dance this was. "Right," he agreed, surprised to find his voice a bit strained, almost hoarse. "Well, thanks."

If Sirius heard the change in Remus' voice, he didn't acknowledge it. Besides, Owain had his arm round James' shoulders now, guiding him purposefully towards them. "Look who I found," Owain smiled, giving James a gentle push towards what had been Owain's seat. "I'll get you something to drink, Potter—mystery drink, or do you want something that won't melt away your stomach lining?"

James managed a genuine smirk, sinking into the cushions next to Remus. "Mystery drink sounds quite appealing right now, actually."

"On your head be it," Owain laughed, glancing at Remus, then Sirius. "You two alright for booze?"

Remus had, by now, drained most of the purple concoction (and who could blame him, in the circumstances), and handed over his empty cup; Sirius just held up his bottle, still sloshing with liquid, as his answer.

"Alright, I'll be back…"

James seemed all too aware of the stares of two of his best friends; he just chose to tip his head back, resting it against the sofa and gazing up at the ceiling. "He's a good'un, your bloke."

"He is," Remus agreed, hesitating only a moment before he spoke again. "I heard you and Cadence had a…falling-out."

James snorted humourlessly, closing his eyes. "She's been making these digs all fucking week—"

"No one's saying you shouldn't be annoyed, mate," Sirius interrupted. "But maybe getting arsy with her in front of half of Hogwarts isn't the best approach."

James was quiet for a few seconds before he sighed. "Yeah."

Remus and Sirius exchanged a quick look—it wasn't like James to just admit his own culpability so easily. This mood was obviously worse than they had realised. "I'm sure you can make it up with her tomorrow," Remus said.

"Yeah," James murmured again.

"And stop being so bloody hard on yourself," Sirius added. "Even you injured is a better quidditch player than most of the people in this school. Fuck, half the people on the Hufflepuff team, even."

"I thought I'd enjoy it more," James said, opening his eyes again. He looked exhausted. "Winning the cup, as captain…"

"Prongs," Remus frowned. "You've had a rough few months. Pads is right, you need to go easy on yourself."

James sighed again, a heavy thing, weighed down with so much more than he was saying. He was great at supporting others, James, a wonderful friend to lean on when you needed him…but he wasn't so good at letting others do the same for him. At least, he wasn't at the moment. "Not sure I'm in the party mood, to be honest," he said at last, carefully hauling himself off the sofa. "Think I'll just get some sleep."

Sirius frowned, sitting up. "Mate—"

"I'm fine," James promised, empty words, emptier still when paired with the hollow smile he gave them both. "Just knackered. See you in the morning…"

He was gone before either of them could even get off the sofa themselves; Remus shot Sirius a worried look. "Should we follow him up?"

Sirius considered it, before shaking his head. "Let's let him sleep it off," he decided. "He won't want to talk to us tonight anyway."

Remus felt awful that he'd, even for a moment, forgotten about Owain entirely; his boyfriend returned, three glasses full of the purple mystery drink floating ahead of him, and his smile dimmed when he noticed James was missing. "Oh! Where's Potter? I poured him an extra-large serving."

"Funny mood," Sirius explained, taking the third glass. "He's gone to bed. Hopefully he'll be feeling more himself in the morning."

"A quidditch party without the captain," Owain raised his eyebrows, handing Remus his refill. "Well, I won't feel too bad, then, about going back to McKinnon—she promised to tell me Marauders stories that would make me want to 'find a less certifiable boyfriend'."

Remus managed a small smile. He wanted Owain to bond with his friends; he didn't know why this all felt so odd. "Let her do her worst, then."

Owain grinned, pausing a moment to dip down and press a kiss to Remus' lips—a quick, soft thing, affectionate and sweet—before he turned to head back towards the drinks table where Marlene and Dorcas were holding court.

The silence that settled between them only lasted a minute or so before Sirius spoke again; evidently, neither of them wanted to address the things they probably should. "Saw you talking to Merryton again yesterday," he said. "She still want you to join her secret society?"

Remus thought back to the day before, how Merryton had caught him as he made his way to Transfiguration; she was relentless, that was for sure, and not just in her teaching. Ever since their meeting with Moody after the Christmas holidays, she had made it her mission to encourage him to act as their 'spy'. It was really only because of the knowledge that Dumbledore was involved, too, and that he wouldn't get into any trouble, that he had agreed to it in the first place. Of course, he'd been absolutely no help so far—a bit preoccupied with his boyfriend and best friends almost getting sliced to ribbons.

"She wants me to…" He paused, glancing round them; no one was paying the slightest bit of attention. "To keep an eye out, for anyone who might be involved with dark magic. With…Voldemort."

Sirius raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised. "Surely you just direct her to the dungeons and be done with it."

Remus rolled his eyes. "I think it's a bit more nuanced than that," he replied. "Anyway, I've been no help. Yesterday she was asking if I had seen or heard anything linked to the SWEN attack, and I had nothing useful to tell her."

He could see the instant that Sirius' expression shifted, even if it was a minute change; he watched on, fascinated, as Sirius apparently weighed up his options. This was the benefit of six years of near-constant contact: he could read his friend like a book, well-thumbed and poured over many times.

Finally, Sirius sighed. "Reg tried to warn me away from the SWEN thing," he said, ignoring Remus as he jolted in surprise—that wasn't the answer he'd expected. "I didn't realise that's what he was doing until a few weeks ago, and when I confronted him about it…" He shook his head. "He was a squirrelly, evasive little git."

"Pads," Remus breathed. More than anything, in that moment, he wanted to reach out, to offer some comfort. He knew all too well the effect that Sirius' family had on him, how even the most benign of interactions could knock him to the floor. "Bloody hell. Do you think he was…?"

"I do," Sirius confirmed grimly. "And he had something wrong with his forearm, he acted like it hurt when I grabbed his arm as he was leaving, then tried to pretend he was fine."

"His arm?" Remus frowned, confused. "Do you think it was…an injury, from…I dunno, or some kind of dark magic…?"

"I don't know what it was," Sirius replied. "I just know that it's important, because his reaction was far out of proportion. It was the only thing in the whole fucking conversation that seemed to rattle him at all." Sirius was quiet a few moments. "You should tell Merryton."

Remus' frown only deepened. "But…tell her what? That your brother has a sore arm? It's not enough to go on."

Sirius tilted his head in reluctant acknowledgement, pausing before draining his glass. "Well, then," he decided. "We need more to go on, don't we. So we'll do a bit of spying."

Remus raised his eyebrows, surprised. "We?"

Sirius looked his way, seeming, for a fleeting moment, almost embarrassed—although of what, Remus could only guess. "That is, if you want some spy-company."

It felt like an important moment; too important, for a drunken quidditch party, with one of their best friends upstairs, miserable and alone, the other drunkenly dancing his break-up out of his system. But he smiled, anyway, unable to stop the reaction. "I hear it's unwise to spy alone."

"I've heard that, too," Sirius smirked, holding up his empty glass in a well-meaning cheers. "To the two most dashing spies Hogwarts has ever seen."

Remus clinked his still-full glass, caught for a moment in Sirius' gaze. "Cheers to that."

A long sleep—and it was long, given that he'd climbed wearily into his bed at just gone nine o'clock—meant that James woke the next morning feeling a bit more himself. Exhaustion crept up on him more easily these days, his body still in recovery mode, and now that he had ten solid hours of sleep under his belt, he could look back on the previous day and realise that he may have overreacted. Yes, her jokes were unhelpful, but Cadence didn't mean anything by them. For him to snap at her and go off in a strop was, in the cold light of day, rather embarrassing.

After a fortifying shower, he left his best friends still sleeping off their hangovers and headed for Ravenclaw tower. A check of the map had told him that Cadence was still in her dorm, and he figured that some time waiting outside for her could show her just how sorry he really was.

A few students passed him by, one fifth year girl heading back in offering to let his girlfriend know he was there; he just stayed, leaning against the cool stone wall, wondering whether he should have planned his apology, whether doing it off-the-cuff (his preferred speaking style) would be enough. He was just considering this conundrum when the portrait hole swung open and Cadence emerged.

He straightened up, taking in her appearance: she looked tired, her eyes puffy—oh, Merlin, had he made her cry? As if he didn't feel enough of a bastard as it was—and she didn't wear her usual warm, glowing smile. "Sara said you were out here," she said, folding her arms tightly across her chest. It looked like a defence mechanism, and once again, he felt like an utter shit. "What's up?"

He stepped forward, reaching to brush a lock of that golden hair away from her face; she chewed on her bottom lip, looking down. "I wanted to apologise, for yesterday," he said. "Cady, I'm sorry…I overreacted, I shouldn't have behaved like such a twat."

He could hear her draw in a shaky breath, like she was trying to stay calm. "I wasn't trying to upset you," she replied. "I was just—we joke about so many things, I didn't know you felt like that—"

"I should've said something sooner," he agreed quietly. "Not let it all build up."

"And your shoulder," she looked up, then, a frown marring her lovely features. "Sirius said it's been hurting you all this time—why didn't you tell me?"

James sighed. "I didn't want to go on about it…"

"James, I'm your girlfriend." She lifted her hand, almost tentatively, to rest at his jaw. "You should feel able to tell me anything."

"I do," he promised her, and it was mostly true. He didn't know why he had chosen not to tell her about this, and he wasn't sure he wanted to spend any time thinking it over. "I'm sorry. I think coming back to school has been…a bit overwhelming, really. I'm knackered all the time, my shoulder hurts, the team is struggling, all the work in class has stepped up…"

Her thumb skated gently across his cheek, a soft, repetitive motion that soothed him: he closed his eyes a moment, tipped his head forward till his forehead met hers. "I'm sorry I didn't notice you were struggling," she murmured.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was struggling," he replied quietly.

They stood there like that for a while, and he drew strength from her presence, from her warmth, from her touch. He didn't open his eyes to murmur what he said next. "It's all my fault."

He didn't need his eyes open to know she was frowning. "What is?"

"The attack." His arm had found its way round her waist, and he held onto her as if she was the only thing keeping him upright. "If I hadn't started this SWEN thing, there wouldn't have been an event for them to attack…Charlie would have been left alone, she'd still be here…"

"James." Her quietly insistent tone forced his eyes open, and he found her gaze, the calm and affection there. "None of this was your fault. They would have found some other way to hurt people."

"But—"

"Your SWEN events have been amazing," she carried on, soft but steady. "So many people have been asking me when the next one will be—they feel like they've got a voice again, that their lives aren't being marginalised and pushed to the side. You helped do that, James."

He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, not wanting to get emotional, not out here in the middle of the corridors. "It feels like I let everyone down."

She tipped herself forward, her lips gently brushing his. "You haven't let anyone down," she whispered, a promise that he could almost believe. "Don't give up, Jamie. Don't let them win."

He didn't deserve her. How was it that he had come here to apologise, to desperately try to make it up to her, and she'd ended up comforting him? "Okay," he agreed quietly.

"Okay," she echoed, one last brush to his lips before she pulled back, fixing him with her gaze. "How about we go to breakfast, and we can start thinking of the next SWEN thing? Maybe for Hogsmeade next weekend?"

He gave her a smile, a genuine one that seemed to melt away any remaining anxiety lingering around the edges of her. "Not just a pretty face, are you."

She gave her hair a teasing flick. "No, I'm told my arse is pretty great, too."

James laughed, looping his arm around her as they left their post outside Ravenclaw tower, heading down towards the Great Hall. "I can't deny that."

In fact, Cadence made it her mission to gather together the usual group of SWEN planners—a motley crew from across three of the four houses—as they each stumbled into breakfast, and they ended up having an impromptu planning meeting at the Gryffindor table. Their enthusiasm was uplifting: James realised that, although it couldn't be disputed that the last SWEN event had not ended well, the will to carry on with their efforts had not gone away. If anything, everyone seemed galvanised to make sure they kept things going as much as possible: as Cadence had said, to not let the darkness win.

It was Mary, looking just a bit peaky in her hungover state, who suggested another scavenger hunt, but entirely muggle, this time. Enough of the SWEN group had taken part in the last one for this to be met with cheerful approval, and Mary, Lily and James agreed to put together a list of entirely non-magical things that entrants could 'scavenge' from Hogsmeade. "Not the easiest task," Mary admitted, "but not impossible, either."

"I'll make posters," Cadence offered, shooting James a smile, "so we can get the word out as soon as possible."

"I can help with that," her friend Lucy agreed (and James noticed, intriguingly, Lily shoot the girl a sad sort of frown before she rearranged her expression into something more neutral).

"Great," James nodded, looking around the group gratefully. "Thanks, everyone. This is going to be fun."

He parted ways with Cadence after breakfast, leaning in for a lingering kiss and a promise to find her later before he followed his friends back up to Gryffindor. "Made up, did you?" Sirius asked, subtlety not being his strong suit.

"We did," James confirmed. "I said I was sorry for acting like an idiot, and she was very kind, all things considered."

"Lucky," Sirius smirked. "Some girls would've sent you packing for that kind of attitude."

"I am lucky," he agreed, looking ahead of them to where Lily and Remus were deep in conversation. "You and Ollerton looked chummy at the party."

Sirius shrugged, looking away. "Thought it was probably time to be friendly."

James raised an eyebrow. "Probably," he agreed. "And…you and Moony seem friendlier, too…?"

His friend rolled his eyes, but nodded. "Can't stand things being weird and sad anymore," he said. "If that means I…" A sigh, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well, anyway. We're just letting things go back to normal."

James wondered if that was even possible, given the apparent feelings on both sides of that particular equation—but he had to admit, it was a relief to see his friends talking and joking like normal again. One less thing for his tired mind to worry about, even if it did seem to be predicated on an array of falsehoods and cheerful pretences.

"That's good," he said. "Really good, Pads."

Sirius just shrugged again, watching Lily as she said something which made Remus laugh. "You and Evans are mates again."

James frowned. "Yeah, she…she doesn't seem to be avoiding me anymore, at least." He paused. "Do you know what that was about?"

Sirius' moment of hesitation was very telling. "Um…"

"You do know," James sighed. "Out with it, Pads."

Sirius sighed, too, and dropped back a bit so there was even more distance between them and the subject of their conversation. "Evans and I were in the library, working on the Potions project," he said, his voice lowered. "And we overheard Cady talking to Lucy and Lambeth…about you."

He swallowed. That couldn't have been a good thing. "About me?"

"Cady was worrying that something was wrong," Sirius said, looking like he'd really rather be talking about anything else. "And…the others were asking if you're still hung up on Evans, and…saying that she'd been 'throwing herself' at you."

James came to a sudden halt, turning to Sirius in surprise. "What?"

"Yeah," Sirius confirmed darkly. "Lucy called her desperate, said some pretty nasty things. And…"

He raised his eyebrows impatiently. "And?"

Sirius glanced up the corridor; Lily and Remus had gone completely, far enough ahead now to be almost back at the tower. "Cadence said how Evans was only invited to your birthday because you didn't want it to be weird that everyone else of the Gryffindor sixth years were invited but not her."

James blinked. "What? I never said anything like that—"

"I said as much to Evans at the time," Sirius assured him. "I think Cady was just frustrated because…well, you were a bit hot and cold with her. It's just bad luck we happened to be there to hear it all."

James shook his head, still trying to process it all. "So…she was avoiding me, because she thought my girlfriend's friends think she's…"

"A homewrecker?" Sirius supplied. "I think so, yeah. I never asked her, she didn't seem keen to talk about any of it afterwards."

"Fuck's sake," James frowned. "She—she hasn't been throwing herself at me! We're friends!"

"Well maybe, seeing as how she hated your guts last year, it's just that friendship seems like more, to an outsider," Sirius suggested as they started walking again. "It has been quite the turn-around."

"Yeah, but…" He wasn't sure exactly what about this was bothering him. It was all very confusing. "I should talk to her. Apologise."

Sirius shook his head. "It's not your thing to apologise for, and Evans will freak out if you try and confront Cadence about any of it. That might play into the narrative, anyway."

James sighed, nodding reluctantly. "You're right," he agreed. "And I've only just got things back on an even keel with Cady as it is."

"I know it goes against your every instinct, to just let it go," Sirius said, only half joking. "But I think that's your only option here."

They rounded the corner along the corridor from the portrait hole; ahead of them, Lily and Remus waited, caught up in easy conversation. James felt a strange sensation tug in his chest: did she think he still fancied her? Was that why she had avoided him?

"Get stuck in a trick step?" Lily asked with a bright smile as they reached the pair.

James shot Sirius a quick glance, before returning her smile, trying to ignore the fluttering of something in the pit of his stomach. "Luckily Padfoot was there to rescue me."

"Where would you be without me, eh?" Sirius joked.

He could always rely on Sirius to go along with a lie.

James wasn't sure if Cadence had spoken to his mates, but over the next few days, they seemed to make a concerted effort to get themselves—and James, too—into bed at a reasonable hour, ignoring the temptation to linger in the common room chatting or playing chess. On Tuesday, when they had a free period, Sirius marched James to the infirmary so that Pomfrey could look at his shoulder, and, although he felt just a bit patronised, he had to admit that it was worth it. Poppy Pomfrey was a miracle worker, after all: she cast a few healing spells and dosed him up with a tonic that seemed to give him back his old range of movement, the pain dulling almost into insignificance.

With more sleep, and less pain, it felt a lot easier to keep on top of his homework, to pay attention in lessons. It had been tempting to tell Cadence he'd heard about her conversation in the library, but he pushed that aside—it was at least a month ago, now, and what good would it do to dredge that all up? Besides, he didn't want to open the door to a conversation about Lily; he wasn't sure what he would say about her, and he didn't think that would be particularly comforting to his girlfriend.

Mary and Lily helped him make quick work of a list for the scavenger hunt, all non-magical items which could be located in Hogsmeade, and the posters advertising it were plastered over the castle by Wednesday lunchtime. Remus, Sirius and Owain had used a rather potent sticking spell to get the posters to adhere to the walls, which meant that they all got to spend an enjoyable five minutes before Potions on Thursday morning watching Mulciber try to remove one of the posters in the dungeons. "Poor lad," Sirius had smirked. "I'm not sure he could manage it even if it had been a normal sticking spell."

Thursday evening's dinner was celebratory in atmosphere: Pete and Iris were back together, and his smile could have lit up the entire castle on its own. James was starting to wonder if perhaps they were not the most ideal couple—surely it wasn't healthy to be off and on like this—but, considering his own relationship ups and downs lately, thought he was hardly in a position to judge. "I'm pleased for you, mate," he clapped his friend on the shoulder, enjoying the rosy pink glow of Peter's cheeks. "And just in time for you two to compete together at the scavenger hunt."

"I will scavenge the world, if I have to," Pete replied, the intensity of his words only slightly undermined by the ketchup stain on his chin. "Anything for her."

"It shouldn't come to that, Wormy," Remus grinned. "Unless Prongs is planning on sending us a bit further afield…?"

"Nothing outside of Hogsmeade boundaries," James promised. "Can't have everyone ending up in detention."

"That would ruin things a bit," Sirius agreed.

"We won the house cup," Pete sighed happily, digging back into his fish and chips. "Iris is back in my life. It's Hogsmeade weekend. Could this week get any better?"

It did seem to be going rather well. James just hoped it would continue that way.

There was a disconcerting drip-drip-drip sound, echoing magnificently off the stone walls: disconcerting not least because they couldn't see the source of said dripping. "What if it's blood?" Sirius whispered, unable to keep that thought to himself any longer.

Remus, Sirius could tell, even in the dim light, was trying not to look too alarmed. "That would be a lot of blood, to make that much noise."

There was a pause, before Sirius admitted, "It's probably just something to do with the lake."

The most likely, and, yes, the most boring explanation. They had been in the dungeons now for forty-five minutes, huddled under the invisibility cloak, waiting for…well, Sirius wasn't entirely sure. Waiting for someone evil to come along, or for someone to do something evil. As if that might happen out there in the corridor. Even the Slytherin brain trust weren't quite that stupid.

"I think," Remus whispered, "that if Merryton knew this was our plan, she would give us one of those looks which could make your soul shrivel up and die."

"Good thing you didn't tell her, then," Sirius remarked, shaking his head. "She doesn't need any more reasons to direct that look at me. Honestly, she hears me say she's really quite fuckable one time and now she hates me for some reason…"

"Yes," Remus murmured dryly. "Shocking, that."

"Anyway, we're giving up our Friday evening for this," Sirius continued, as if Remus had not spoken at all. "So maybe she should just be grateful for the effort."

"Yes," Remus said cautiously. "I suppose so."

Sirius had to admit that it was a nice idea, in theory, although he still felt that their plan—if you could even call it that—was lacking. No one had even strolled by, everyone but the prefects apparently safely ensconced in their dormitories, and all they had got for their troubles was sore feet and a pervading chill that had started to seep into Sirius' bones.

"We might have better luck if we keep an eye out for them tomorrow," Remus suggested eventually, after five more quiet, cold minutes had passed. "Maybe they'll use the Hogsmeade visit as a cover to gather together…"

Sirius shot him a thoughtful look. "You know, that's not a half bad idea…"

"Thanks."

"And if we take the cloak tomorrow, we can do a bit of infiltration," Sirius was warming to the idea. He had always enjoyed a bit of larking around, some hijinks. "Plus, and I don't know if you've noticed this, Moony, but it's fucking freezing down here."

"I had noticed, yes," Remus confirmed.

"In May! No wonder they're all such miserable bastards—they're in a constant state of hypothermia."

"So, does this mean we can go?" Remus asked. "Before I lose a toe?"

"Can't have you hobbling about, losing your balance," Sirius agreed. "Let's get out of here."

They waited until they were on the fifth floor before they removed the cloak, having already passed the patrolling prefects as they made their way back down through the castle. That, plus the map telling them that Filch and Mrs Norris were currently waylaid on the first floor, meant that they could have a more comfortable walk back to Gryffindor tower. When they were under the cloak, they had to huddle together, both too tall now to really get away with having more than one person under there. While huddling close was good for sharing body warmth in the cold, damp dungeons, it was a bit more awkward, somehow, when moving around the rest of the castle.

"James seems a bit cheerier," Remus said, apparently having reached his limit for mildly uncomfortable silences.

Sirius nodded his agreement. "He likes to have something to focus on."

"I wasn't sure if him and Cadence weren't about to break up…"

Sirius glanced his way with a wry smile. "I dunno. I get the feeling Prongs is going to hang on in there for as long as he can, to prove a point."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "And what point would that be?"

"If it's what I think it is, you can have one guess," Sirius smirked. "Here's a hint: it's been his reasoning behind almost everything since, oh, third year."

"Lily," Remus sighed. "What point does that prove, though?"

"That he's not still head over heels for her?" Sirius suggested; they paused together as one of the moving staircases swung closer, hopping on in perfect unison at just the right time. "That he can be with someone else?"

Remus shook his head. "That's not a great reason for sticking out a relationship that doesn't make him happy."

Sirius was quiet a few moments; he hardly felt qualified to comment on why someone might stick it out in an unhappy coupling. He'd spent most of the past few months hoping that someone might not want to stick it out with their partner, like the great and wonderful friend that he was. He could hardly admit that to Remus now, not when they were finally getting back to normal. He hadn't made all this bloody effort with Owain to screw things up with honesty. "Well, people do strange things, Moony."

Remus huffed a laugh, leading the way off the staircase as they reached the seventh floor, along the corridor towards the portrait hole. "So I've learned."

Sirius rubbed his hands together in a half-hearted attempt at warmth: he had thought that in May he wouldn't need his jumper or cloak. The best part of an hour in the dungeons had been enough to suck the warmth from his bones. "You heading into Hogsmeade with Owain tomorrow?"

Remus gave him a fleeting glance. "Oh, um, yeah," he replied. "We're meeting by the carriages at ten."

"Can't believe we're at the last Hogsmeade weekend of the year already," Sirius said, because it seemed an easier thing to comment on than Remus and his boyfriend. "Bit of a mad year, eh?"

Remus snorted in an undignified manner, stopping by the Fat Lady to give the password; she swung open with a grumble, apparently having been trying to nap. "I think that's putting it mildly, Pads."

"Psh, a bit of an attack here, a bit of drama there," Sirius joked, following Remus through into the common room; it was empty, James and Pete already having gone up to the dorm. Or, it seemed empty, until he spotted Lily curled up in an armchair by the windows. "Go ahead, I'll catch up with you…"

Remus nodded, looking briefly over at their friend before he disappeared up the stairs; Sirius thought, perhaps uncharitably, that he was probably keen to get a bit of space from him after spending all that time under the cloak. Still, they'd lasted—something that had not been likely even a few weeks ago.

"Alright, Evans," he spoke up as he slipped into the chair opposite hers. Now that he was closer, he could see her eyes were rimmed red, her face pale; in her hand, she was clutching a letter. "You okay?"

It took her a moment or two to even realise he was there: she looked round, as if surprised to find him looking at her, and blinked, quickly wiping her cheeks. "Oh, hi," she said. "Sorry, I was in my own world…"

He frowned, sitting forward a little. "Has something happened?"

She tried to smile, and it was one of the saddest things he'd ever seen. Lily was someone usually so vivacious, so full of life, but now she looked like a poorly-made duplicate of herself: none of the spark in her eyes, and her body almost as if she was folding in on herself, struggling to stay upright. "No, not really," she replied, and rolled her eyes at herself as a tear slipped, unchecked, down her cheek. "Had a letter from dad, and…" She paused, drawing in a breath, trying to steady herself. "He says she's not in as much pain now, because they've given her lots of medicine, but…she's sleeping a lot."

Sirius shuffled his chair closer to hers so he could reach out, take her hand in his. "I'm sorry, Evans…"

Lily just shook her head. "She's no worse off than the last letter," she murmured. "I don't know why it all hit me like this tonight."

He paused. "No offence, but…you don't look like you've been sleeping that well," he said. "Being exhausted probably doesn't help."

A faint, flicker of a smile passed across her face, something more genuine this time, even though it was still laced with sadness. "No, probably not," she agreed. "I just…can't seem to stay asleep."

"You should talk to Pomfrey," he said. "I bet she's got something that could help."

"It's not that bad…"

"What is it with stubborn people around here?" Sirius wondered, giving her hand a squeeze. "First Prongs, now you—there's nothing wrong with needing help, Evans."

She looked up, biting her lip a moment. "James got help for his shoulder?"

"Yes," Sirius confirmed patiently. "And now he happily admits that he should've gone sooner."

She sighed, running her free hand over her face in an action that seemed far too weary for someone so young. "Fine. I'll go and see Pomfrey on Monday, okay?"

"Good." Sirius waited until she met his gaze again, and gave her one of his trademark smiles. "I can't be the one giving out sensible advice, here, you know. It goes against all my principles."

"Sorry," Lily laughed, a faint laugh, yes, but still a laugh. That was a victory he would take.

"Well, sort out your sleep schedule and you'll be back to being the sensible one again," he said. "And I can go back to being—how did you phrase it, that time in fifth year? After the Shepherd's Pie incident?"

She scrunched up her nose, a highly endearing move. "A selfish, egotistical wally who really ought to know better?"

"That's the one," he grinned. "My favourite flavour of Black."

She gave his hand a squeeze, now. "You're not selfish and egotistical anymore," she told him quietly. "And only a little bit of a wally, sometimes."

He smirked. "Well, thanks."

"Thanks, Sirius." She glanced back towards the windows, at the dark night that spread out before them. "How long are you and Mare going to pretend you're shagging?"

His head turned sharply to look at her; she had the hint of a smile on her face, even as she continued to stare out at the stars. "What?"

"You are pretending," Lily pointed out patiently. "Right?"

A long pause, where Sirius weighed up the benefit of being honest versus keeping the charade going. Although what was the point, really, if she had already sussed it out? He'd thought they were doing a pretty decent job at keeping up the pretence—apparently not, or at least, not decent enough for a sharp eye like Lily's. "Right," he sighed. "How long have you known?"

"Oh, the whole time," she replied lightly.

"Fuck's sake," Sirius shook his head. "You're like a bloody—what was his name, that muggle detective that Remus is obsessed with? With the pipe and the funny hat?"

"Sherlock Holmes," Lily confirmed. "And yes, you're right, I am just like him."

He slumped back in his chair, defeated. "We did shag once, you know."

"I don't need to know the details," Lily assured him.

"I'm just saying…" He studied his fingernails carefully, as if they were of great interest. "Do you think…anyone else knows we're not?"

Lily finally looked away from the window, watching him, as canny as ever. It could be quite irritating, being friends with someone with this much emotional intelligence. He couldn't get away with anything. "Well, I know James suspects, because we've talked about it—"

That surprised Sirius, for a number of reasons, not least that he thought James would've said something by now. He didn't like to keep his theories to himself, especially not when it came to anything Sirius did. He also, and this wasn't just Sirius being ungenerous, wasn't quite as…observant, as Evans was. If James had his suspicions…

"—but I haven't talked to anyone else about it, so I don't know." Lily raised an eyebrow. "Why, who do you want to think you're shagging Mary?"

Sirius met her gaze, heaving a sigh. "No one." He stood up. "Come on, we should be going to bed. Busy day tomorrow."

She stood up too, but didn't let him sidle off: she drew him into a long hug, her arms slipping easily around his waist, her head resting against his chest. "Thanks for being here," she murmured after a few moments.

"Any time, Evans," he promised quietly.

"And remember…I'm here for you, too." She pulled back, fixing him with a loaded look; he nodded sheepishly. "When you're ready to talk."

He draped his arm round her shoulders, walking her back towards the staircases. "Between you and Mac, I'm spoiled for listening ears."

"Me, and Mac, and James, and Remus, and Pete…" she reminded him. "All people who would be happy to listen."

That may well have been true, but there was someone in that list that he really didn't think he could talk about this with. "You're too wise, Evans," he said, as lightly as he could. "Put us all to shame."

"You say the nicest things," she winked, pausing at the bottom of the staircases; she dotted a quick kiss to his cheek. "Night, Sirius."

"Good night," he echoed, watching as she made her trudging way up to the girls' dorm. The common room at last now empty for the night behind him, there was no reason to linger, and yet it felt strange, almost nerve-wracking, to make his way upstairs. Even just that conversation with Lily, as much as he'd skated round things, had left him feeling rather more vulnerable than he liked. If James was still up, he'd see that in his friend's face, he'd ask questions…

But he couldn't put it off any longer: he was tired, and sitting alone by the fire didn't hold the appeal that it had at the start of the year, when he was angry and lonely and lost in his own pain. Yes, there was still pain in there, but after everything that had happened, he hoped that he was dealing with it differently.

He headed up the stairs, wondering if maybe it would be okay for James to notice his discomfort; maybe it would be okay, to have him ask questions—to offer quietly honest answers. Maybe it would help, to confide in someone. To share the burden.

A breakthrough, of sorts. So it was almost a shame when he reached the dorm and found everyone already asleep.

Another time, perhaps.