Never All Together

Chapter 13: It's My Turn

I was lost
I was blind
Till I found you.
Couldn't see
Couldn't find
Someone new.
You were my friend
Dear friend
Sometimes I wonder
Could the one to save me
Possibly be you?

--- Maury Yeston (Till I Loved You)

James turned in his sleep and accidentally hit the wooden frame of the couch he was lying on with his left, injured arm. "Ow," he grumbled. He righted himself, groggily groped around for his glasses and saw them on top of the nearest table. He grabbed them and put them on. Looking around, he tried to remember why he had spent the night in the common room instead of in his dormitory.

Memories came back in a rush--and that, combined with the queasiness his hangover brought him, pounded his head mercilessly. James groaned and clutched at his temples, trying to ease his headache. So it's true, what they say about booze just worsening whatever problem you have. All the liquor he had downed the previous night had indeed made him forget. But the catch with such temporary relief was that the pain drove home stronger with each remembrance, which was also clearer each time.

He was still feeling nauseous, so he remained seated and glanced at the clock first. Six o'clock. James slapped his hand to his forehead in irritation. He had had only four hours of sleep--troubled, uneasy sleep. Weren't hangovers supposed to help you sink deep into a stupor? He cursed the Firewhiskey inside his mind and whipped the blanket over him off to his side.

He did a double take and eyed the warm, fuzzy cloth suspiciously. Where did the blanket come from?

He looked around the Gryffindor common room and, for the first time, saw Hermione's huddled form on the small armchair directly perpendicular to his. What is she doing here? Recollections of what happened after he had returned to Hogwarts, sopping wet and drunk, were still hazy. He could only vaguely recall her helping him against the Fat Lady, but could not remember anything else after that.

James sighed and stood up, his legs still shaky. He reached for the white blanket with his left arm and winced at the cracking sound that accompanied another jolt of pain. His elbow had been dislocated by last night's fall, but that could easily be remedied.

My wand. Where's my wand? Automatically, he reached into his robes with his right hand and felt the hard stick inside. He took it out, pointed it at his left arm, and quickly muttered the Healing Spell. The uncomfortable twinge he had been bearing vanished, which assured James his mind was now at least in some control of his faculties.

He walked towards Hermione, blanket in hand, taking note of his Nimbus on the floor as he stepped over it. The fire, which he assumed had kept her warm through the night, had already died out. As a result, she was trembling slightly from the chill that accompanied the dawn. The sight of a sleeping woman, of the one who had helped him, struck something sentimental inside. Why she was down here with him when she could have returned to her room, why she tucked him in her own blanket and allowed herself to be cold and why she had chosen the cramped armchair and left him the considerably more comfortable couch were beyond his comprehension, but her thoughtful gestures touched his heart. Did she care this much about everyone else? Thinking back on how she had treated everybody so far--even Peter, who could be annoying at times--she probably did.

James smiled gently as he looked down at her and covered her with the blanket. He slid one arm under her back, supported the rear of her knees with another and lifted her from the armchair. He would have carried her back to her dormitory if he could. Instead, he carried her to the couch he had slept on and slowly set her down. He thought he heard her breathe a sigh of relief as she automatically stretched her body, turned on one side and continued to sleep. James readjusted the sheets and saw that she was still wearing the robes she had on before he left for his security rounds. He reached out and tenderly pushed the stray walnut locks of her hair behind one ear. They both had had a rough night.

With his touch, Hermione stirred in her sleep. A sweet air tinged with vanilla tempted his senses, and James inhaled deeply, savouring it. Right after he had done so, however, he jerked backwards from her and abruptly straightened himself up. He really was still crocked.

James picked up his Nimbus from the floor, walked to the stairs and climbed to the boys' dormitory, careful not to wake her. He noiselessly entered the room he shared with the other Marauders, all of whom he hoped were still sound asleep. As he passed Remus' bed, which was beside his, he caught sight of himself in a mirror.

Bloody hell.

His image stunned him. He looked awful, with the dark circles shadowing his bloodshot eyes and the tangled mass of hair crowning his head. Even his cheeks appeared to be sunken, and his mouth was set in a grim, serious line. Nobody would recognise him as James Potter--but he doubted anybody knew who he really was anyway. You're a mess, he scolded himself. What kind of a man allowed himself to be ruined by just a woman? That she happened to be Lily Evans was no excuse. I need to get a grip on myself.

He decided he would start with a much-needed, hopefully refreshing shower. He tossed the broom on his bed--which was unmade, thanks to Sirius--and opened the trunk beside it. He grabbed his towel and clothes and headed for the bathroom. The cold water from the shower that hammered his body effectively woke him up and cleared his mind, so that he almost felt like his old self again when he stepped out, fully dressed.

James plonked down on his bed afterwards and stared up at the ceiling, his arms crossed behind his head. The dull patterns above forced away all the angry and miserable thoughts he kept bottled inside. The nothingness was certainly a welcome break.

"Prongs? Is that you?"

James started, his moment of solitude interrupted. Remus' curtains were parted and his sleepy face was peering through the gap.

"Yeah, it's just me. Go back to sleep," James said.

Remus shook his head and sat up, pushing the drapes farther from each other. He swung his legs on the side of the bed that was facing James. "I'm always an early riser," he said, rubbing his eyes. "But you... Why are you up so early?"

James propped himself up on his own bed and sighed. He wanted to tell Remus to leave him alone, but knew his friend was merely asking a question. It wouldn't be right to take out all his frustrations on him. "I couldn't sleep."

"What time did you get back last night?" Remus asked. "I was awake until three this morning, yet I didn't hear you enter."

"I didn't sleep here," James answered blandly. Sooner or later, Remus was going to bring Lily into the conversation. "I was practically sloshing with alcohol when I returned. I slept on a couch in the common room instead." He didn't mention the finer details; Remus could work them out for himself. Besides, he did not want to dwell on the previous night's events any longer than necessary when, in the first place, he didn't even really know exactly what happened. I wish Sirius and Peter were awake right now, so I wouldn't have to tell them the same thing all over again.

Remus' eyes widened both in shock and understanding. He was silent for a few more moments, wondering what to say next, and soon settled on, "That bad, huh?"

James snorted and didn't reply.

Fortunately, Remus was sensitive enough to take it as a sign that he should stop asking. James would enlighten them in time, but not today. The wounds were too fresh.

Remus started dwelling on his own disastrous night and cringed inwardly at how close he had come, but failed, to asking Regina out. He glanced back at James, who had resumed staring blankly at the ceiling. He sighed. I'll just tell him next time. He has his own demons to battle. He lay back down on his bed and imitated what James was doing.

They stayed that way for a little over an hour until it was time for breakfast. James jumped up and left around half past seven without saying another word. Remus, meanwhile, took it upon himself to wake Peter and Sirius. Peter stirred with a start and immediately sat up in bed, wild-eyed, while Sirius just grumbled and slid back under the covers. Remus grinned at their behaviour. Some things just never changed.

Peter immediately noticed James's empty bed. "Where's Prongs? I wasn't able to wait up for him last night. What time did he come in?"

Remus' grin faded. He decided to answer only Peter's first question. "Already downstairs for breakfast."

"What happened last night?" Peter insisted.

A sad smile twisted Remus' lips. "He wouldn't tell me. But Lily said no again, obviously." A thoughtful expression came over his face. "I know this has happened countless times before, but this time seems different. Final, almost. She must have said something that really hurt James."

Peter frowned. "I told you she was crazy. So what time did he return?" he repeated.

"I don't know. I was up till three, but I didn't see him either," Remus replied. "He told me he slept downstairs." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "He said he was drunk too, and that was what troubled me the most."

Upon hearing this, Sirius rolled in bed and pulled his comforter down to face them. "James doesn't drink," he stated matter-of-factly.

"I know. But he did last night. Drowned himself, from the looks of it," Remus countered softly.

There was a hush as each one contemplated on what had just been said.

"Ordinarily, I would have let James tell you himself," Remus continued, breaking the silence. "But I don't think he's welcome to questions about last night, and since I know how nosy the two of you are," he said wryly, "I thought I'd better warn you beforehand."

"How thoughtful," Sirius said sarcastically. "What would we ever do without you to care for us and look over our every need?"

Peter grinned, and even Remus managed a smile. "You'd all be in a very pitiful state indeed," he replied dryly.

* * * * * * *

It was almost half past eight when the three of them, dressed in their school robes, entered the Great Hall. They spotted James easily, sitting at their usual spot and eating alone.

"Remember what I told you," Remus whispered as they walked towards him.

Peter nodded vigorously, ever anxious to please, while Sirius rolled his eyes. Once they reached James, Remus took his place beside him, and the other two sat opposite them. The bespectacled Marauder did not even look up from his plate as his friends joined him.

"Morning, mate," Sirius greeted, his voice unnaturally high with fake cheerfulness.

"Morning," James mumbled, glancing briefly up at him. He continued picking his food. He just didn't feel like talking to any of them right now. He looked warily at his friends, but none of them seemed to be getting ready to pelt him with questions. Remus must have told them to keep their mouths shut, and James was grateful for that more reserved form of sympathy.

He glanced down the Gryffindor table, looking once more for Regina. She wasn't there yet. James assumed she had gone back up to her dormitory and had fallen asleep again because she wasn't on the couch anymore when he went down for breakfast. He had hoped to catch her first thing in the morning so he could talk to her. Strangely enough, she was the only person he wanted to be with right now. He glanced around one more time, just in case he missed her, but she was nowhere to be seen. He returned his attention to his plate, unmindful of the lighthearted banter going on around him.

She's going to be late for class, James thought as he saw the clock strike quarter to nine. His eyes strayed once more to the ornate, open doors of the Great Hall in time to see her enter. For some reason he couldn't fathom, his heart started beating faster. He was nervous about seeing her again--but of course, that was understandable. Especially after last night.

His hazel eyes followed her as she sat down, far from the other students, and quietly took her breakfast. He willed her to meet his eyes, but she kept her own lowered as though resolutely refusing to even glance in their direction. He watched her hastily finish her meagre meal, consisting of a piece of toast and a glass of juice, stand up and start making her way to the door.

James suddenly stood up, almost knocking over Remus' glass.

His three friends looked at him with mingled surprise and concern. "What's the matter, Prongs?" Sirius asked.

He did not waste time answering his best friend. Instead, James climbed over the bench, grabbed his bag and hurriedly strode out the Great Hall. When Hermione had turned left and vanished from his sight, he broke into a run.

"Regina! Wait up!" he called, just as Hermione took her first step up the stairs.

Hermione looked back, her heart skipping a beat when she saw him. She stood rooted to the spot as he approached, trying to keep her features expressionless. He was so tall that, when he caught up with her, she still had to tilt her head up to look him in the eye, even though she was already one stair step higher than him.

He was smiling; she certainly did not anticipate that, not after last night. She returned it, nonetheless, for it was difficult not to. "What is it?"

James did not respond. He simply stepped up the first rung and motioned for her to continue up the stairs with him.

They were completely silent for the next few moments, but Hermione had never been good at keeping words to herself. "How are you?" she asked nonchalantly, breaking the ice without really looking at him.

"Better now," James replied warmly. He wanted to tell her how much he appreciated everything she did last night, but he couldn't find the right words to use. How could he say he was sorry for having caused her so much trouble, but that he had never felt more cared for, without sounding like a dolt?

She glanced at him, and their eyes met. James saw that she also had dark circles under her eyes, which contrasted with the amused smile on her face. "I'm glad," she said. "Firewhiskey did its job, then."

James coloured. He had never drunk any type of liquor until last night and was actually amazed he had managed to hold down several shots. "No, it screwed matters up even more," he said. "I was lucky you were there to--"

"Clean up your mess?" Hermione interrupted, smirking now. "Literally and figuratively, of course."

He started, almost stumbling over a step. "Wh--what?" he stuttered. "You mean I... threw up?"

Hermione nodded indifferently. "On the Gryffindor carpet." She looked more closely at him. "Don't you remember?"

James frowned. Now that she mentioned it, he could vaguely recall something like that. He cringed. "I must have looked like an embarrassing piece of shit."

Her eyes widened, surprised by his sudden profanity. Then her features softened. "All of us look like that sometimes. Don't be too hard on yourself."

They stopped in front of the door to their Transfiguration classroom. James wanted to ask her what else happened the night before, but decided he had other more important words she should hear.

"I'm sorry for being such a nuisance last night," he began, his low voice lending intimacy to their conversation. "Come to think of it, I've always been, and you've always been around to help me."

Hermione smiled shyly, the warmth in his eyes drawing her in. "It wasn't any trouble at all, James," she said. "Anybody would have done the same. I was just the one around at that time." She had made sure she would be.

Thank Merlin for that, James thought. "I'd like to make things up to you anyway." He opened the door for her and allowed her to enter first. They were two of the few early students in the room, which included some Ravenclaws.

"That wasn't necessary. I could have done that for myself," Hermione said, referring to James's chivalry in opening the door. "You shouldn't even have walked me to class."

"That, Regina, is the way a man should treat a lady," James informed her, his manner now relaxed. "Before you let it all go to your head, I guess I should let you know I was walking myself to class as well," he added, a trace of a smirk on his face.

Hermione merely smiled as she sat in her usual seat. That James was back to messing around meant that he had already somewhat recovered from last night. She didn't mind--oh no, not at all--that he was showing her glimpses of his arrogance once more. In fact, if truth be told, she liked it. A lot.

"You don't have to sit with me either," Hermione said as James slid into the empty chair beside her. "I can be very boring company."

James grinned, setting his bag on his desk and playing with his hair. "Don't worry; I'm fun enough for both of us. It's never a dull moment with me."

They passed the rest of the time talking--or rather, in Hermione's case, listening. James did not seem to run out of stories to tell, be it about Quidditch, Marauder pranks, or Hogwarts in general. Hermione could sense he was trying to avoid talking about Lily, but she was fine with that. They both could do without her.

She must look like a fool, unable to fight the giddy smile on her face as she listened to him. It was the first real conversation she had had with James, and Hermione wished she could save these moments with him. Even if she couldn't really be with him later on, she would be able to look back and smile, grateful for a few pleasant memories.

It was exactly nine o'clock when Lily, Alice, Peter, Remus, Sirius, and the majority of their classmates entered the classroom. Alice immediately sat beside Frank Longbottom, while Sirius took his usual place, which happened to be behind Hermione. He usually sat with James, whom he poked in the back with the end of his quill.

"Hey, you're not supposed to be there," Sirius said. Remus was the one who usually sat beside Hermione, and he was standing over James, waiting for him to vacate the seat.

"Today I am," James informed Sirius, turning around to face him. "Find other seats," he told Peter and Remus.

Peter quickly took the chair beside Sirius so that Remus was left to occupy one beside Lily. He gave James a concerned look, but James simply shrugged. He just didn't care anymore. He promised himself he wouldn't care. He'd had enough.

Professor McGonagall arrived ten minutes later, which was a rarity for her. After a quick greeting, she launched straight into the continuation of yesterday's lesson and kept at it for half an hour. Sirius was already asleep on his desk, with Peter staring fearfully at him, wondering if he should wake him. James's head was bobbing up and down, also dangerously close to dropping completely to his table. Remus and Lily, meanwhile, were both wide awake and conscientiously taking down notes. Hermione was casually leaning back in her chair, arms folded over her chest. She had already mastered this lesson back during her own time at Hogwarts. She looked around her and stifled a giggle; why was Professor McGonagall being so lenient with James and Sirius?

"And now we move on to perhaps the most difficult part of Transfiguration--the transformation of man into a specific animal at will."

James and Sirius started and sat up straighter in their seats.

"I'm very pleased to see this topic has caught your interest, Mr. Black and Mr. Potter, at least enough for both of you to stay awake in my class for several minutes," Professor McGonagall admonished sternly. The twinkle in her eyes, however, slightly ruined the effect.

The two most brilliant students in Hogwarts simply grinned, knowing fully well they weren't really being reprimanded.

"Witches and wizards who can transform into any animal at will are called Animagi," the Transfiguration professor continued. "It is most difficult, and the Ministry keeps strict tabs on people who are attempting to do it."

James smiled knowingly, catching Remus' eye across the room. Knowing Sirius, he was also wearing the same smug look on his face at that moment.

Professor McGonagall droned on about the only seven Animagi in the past century, causing the Marauders' grins to widen in response. On and on she went until Sirius was snoozing off again. Extremely bored, James took out his wand and began twirling it mindlessly. After a while, he reached into his bag and pulled out his quill, but with no intention of using it to write.

He pointed his wand at it and muttered a string of words under his breath. His quill was instantly transformed into a miniature doll of a teenage boy with a pale, sallow face, a hooked nose, and slimy hair. Severus Snape.

James broke into a big grin, wishing Sirius could see what he was doing now. He flicked his wand wordlessly, and after a split second, the toy Severus was hanging upside down with his knickers showing. He prodded the figure with his wand and it danced in circles, still suspended the wrong way up.

He heard a giggle beside him, and saw that it came from the most unlikely source. "Why are you laughing?" James asked Hermione.

"I find that funny," she answered, still giggling. She nodded her head towards the doll.

James looked at her doubtfully, trying to decide whether or not she meant what she said. "Really."

"Yes, certainly. Why, is it supposed to be otherwise?" she asked. Hermione pointed her own wand at the miniature Snape's hair and silently cast Scourgify. Bubbles clouded its head, and James chuckled appreciatively. "He really needed that wash, don't you think?"

"You don't like him?" James asked, flicking his wand and dressing Snape anew in a lacy, pink dress.

Hermione choked back another laugh as she thought about the times Professor Snape had unfairly taken points off Gryffindor and had bullied Harry and Neville. "Anyone who does must be mental," she decided. She aimed her wand at Snape's nose and enlarged it even more. "There. Now that's more realistic," she told him.

James snickered loudly, finally catching Professor McGonagall's attention.

She stopped in midsentence and glared at him, her beady eyes on his desk. At the sight of the miniature Snape, her lips twitched as though to refrain from smiling, and she said, "That's enough, Mr. Potter." Her attention shifted to the girl sitting beside him. Ah, the new girl. Of all the people she had to be friends with, it had to be him--the best troublemaker in school. "Miss Weisz, enough as well."

Hermione blushed. Rarely was she chided like that. "Sorry, Professor," she muttered.

"What was I saying about Animagi, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked, banishing Snape with a wave of her wand.

James was horrified. "Professor, that was an expensive quill!"

"You should have thought of that before Transfiguring it into something else," Professor McGonagall replied, the mischievous gleam in her eyes hardly discernible. She knew just how to deal with the Marauders. "Now answer my question."

The best Transfiguration student in their year merely rolled his eyes. "While not everyone can be Animagi, there is a way to determine if somebody does have some chance of becoming one," he said, repeating his professor's words in a bored voice. "All he has to do is try pointing his wand at himself while imagining the sort of animal he would most likely become. A bluish-silver whoosh coming out of the wand would be somewhat encouraging, but not definitive. In the absence of such a sign, it could be that the wizard was thinking of an animal that does not suit him, or that he was lacking in concentration."

"And do you think you have the potential to become an Animagus?" Professor McGonagall asked, surveying him intently. If anyone in class could be one, it would be him--or maybe Sirius Black.

"I don't think so, Professor," James answered guardedly. "I lack enough willpower and discipline to focus my mind and all my energy into transforming into an animal."

Sirius, now fully awake, snorted.

"Why don't we try, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall insisted. "You might be in for a pleasant surprise."

James merely shrugged and pointed his wand at himself. Deliberately allowing his mind to wander and yet maintaining a look of fierce concentration on his face, he waited for that spurt of light to shoot out of his wand. As he expected, there was none. He grinned at his professor. "I guess I'm not fit to be a bug," he said impishly.

Professor McGonagall's nose flared up in disapproval. "You should have had enough sense not to think of a bug in the first place. It does not suit your personality; I'm guessing you would be a horse or a stag." She shook her head. "Never mind, never mind. Mr. Black? Why don't you try it?"

The class turned to look at Sirius, who sat up straighter. Catching James's eye, he aimed his wand at himself and also pretended to focus on transforming into an animal. He likewise failed, however, causing the professor to sigh in disappointment.

"Never mind then," she conceded. She glanced at Remus, whom she would normally have asked to try next, had she not been aware of his condition. Remus, who recognised the look, wondered sardonically if transforming into an animal at will was less painful than being required to do so every month.

Peter was practically jumping up and down in his seat, trying to get Professor McGonagall's attention. He wanted a crack at trying to show the class if he could be an Animagus, particularly because he could. Why were his two friends suddenly unable to do it?

Sirius rolled his eyes and kicked him hard under their table. "Idiot," he whispered menacingly. "How thick can you get? Don't you know how to keep a secret? Nobody else must find out!"

Peter blinked. Right. He had forgotten that. He stilled in his seat, feeling entirely foolish. "Sorry, mate. Won't happen again."

"It better not," Sirius snarled under his breath. Stupid Peter. He'll be the death of us someday.

* * * * * * *

When the bell rang for lunch, the majority of the class hurried away to the Great Hall. Lily, in particular, practically dragged Alice out of the room. The Marauders and Hermione were the last ones to leave.

"Eat lunch with us," James casually told Hermione. The two of them were walking ahead of his three other friends, all of whom he felt were muttering about the surprising change in his treatment of her.

Hermione's eyes widened warily. She had this distinct feeling that he was being extraordinarily nice to her because he still felt guilty about last night. "Really, James. You don't have to do this to make up for--"

"You said we were friends, and I think you've proven that already. It's about time I do that too. My turn," James said, a faint smile on his face.

His words stunned her, but Hermione smiled slightly and nodded slowly in affirmation. It wasn't as if she didn't like what was happening anyway. Her hesitations simply came from her astonishment that so much could change over the course of a day. Besides, the change in James's temperament was so sudden, she wasn't sure if she should trust it at all.

"Why is it," Sirius told her a few minutes later, "that when Remus asks you to join us, you decline, but when it's James who does, you agree at once?"

Hermione cheeks turned pink, but she replied evenly, "Well, I thought it would be better if there were at least two of you who could tolerate my company."

The expression on Sirius' face told her he wasn't buying that. "Whatever," he said uninterestedly. "James has always been slick with the girls, except with the one he wants."

James's features hardened at the reminder of Lily. "She doesn't deserve me," he said tightly.

"Of course she doesn't," Sirius agreed, although it was difficult to tell whether he meant it in a good way. "Say, Prongs, now that Evans is out of the picture--it means I can have my way with Snivellus, yes?"

Remus smiled. "I saw what you did a while ago, James. That was excellent work with Transfiguration." At Sirius and Peter's baffled looks, he filled them in on the miniature Snape their friend had created.

Peter hooted with laughter. "I wish I could've seen that! Reminds me of what we did to him in fifth year..."

"Yes, Padfoot, Snivellus is all yours," James said. "I know how much torture the last two weeks have been to you."

Sirius slapped him on the back jovially. "That's our Head Boy," he crowed.

Hermione was the only one frowning in disapproval. "So you're going back to your old tricks just because Lily didn't say yes?"

"Well, that was the whole point of the plan, wasn't it?" Sirius asked. "Now that it's over and done with, we can resume the roles of true Marauders. Goodness knows we need more laughs around here."

She refused to argue with Sirius, knowing it would get her nowhere. Instead, she turned to James, who looked deep in thought, and waited patiently for him to say his piece.

"You don't know Snape, Regina," James finally said convincingly, albeit quite uncomfortably. "He's always quiet to make himself appear as the one being bullied, but in reality, he gives as good as he gets. And he more often than not attacks when his enemy's back is turned, just like any coward would."

"Does that justify hexing him whenever you feel like it?" Hermione countered.

"It's either him or us," Peter piped in. "Snape hates James beyond reason--jealous, maybe, of his talent and popularity."

"You forgot to mention his handsome looks," Remus said jokingly, making Hermione smile.

"Besides, I can't very well avenge James on Evans," Sirius said. "Poor Snivellus; he's going to taste all the brunt." Hermione opened her mouth to ask what Severus had to do with Lily, but he held up a hand to stop her. "It doesn't matter what you say. I'm going to do it later this afternoon."

Peter's ears perked up. "In Potions?"

"Hitting two birds with one stone," Sirius confirmed in a mocking, mournful tone.

Hermione remained quiet, wondering what it would be like to see the legendary Marauders in action.

James squeezed her hand comfortingly. "You don't have to worry. It'll be fun, whether or not Sirius gets caught." She smiled automatically in response, not at his words, but at the warmth of the hand covering hers. Oh, it felt good. She could definitely get used to that feeling.

They trudged their way to the dungeons at one in the afternoon. James set his cauldron on the table Hermione and Remus usually shared. The brunette Ravenclaw Sirius had been eyeing joined him and Peter in another table, while Severus and Lily occupied another. The door to the Potions professor's quarters opened, and a short, rotund man with a walrus moustache entered the room.

"Okay, settle down, settle down," Professor Slughorn called out amid the vapours and chatter that filled the air. He waited until all his students had settled down before continuing, "As part of your review for your N.E.W.T.s, we will once again tackle some of the potions you brewed in sixth year. We start today with the Draught of Living Death, which I expect you to complete perfectly. If we finish early, we might have another crack at the Euphoria. Now off you go!"

The room was suddenly filled with sounds of scraping chairs, clunking balances and hushed murmurs as everyone set about to work. Hermione, who did not have any of the potion ingredients she needed, had to borrow from the professor's cupboard. After dropping his sliced valerian roots into the cauldron, James sat back in his chair and eyed the sopophorous bean helplessly, wondering what to do with it. It had always been difficult to cut up. He glanced at Remus and saw that he was also having the same problem. Hermione, on the other hand, remembered how she had seen Harry easily release the bean's juice. James watched with amazement as she crushed the flat side of the legume with a silver knife she borrowed from Remus. A larger volume of the extract than he would have thought possible spilled into her cauldron, turning her potion into a lighter shade of lilac.

"How did you learn that?" James asked, awestruck.

Hermione started as though she had not realised he was watching her. "Oh, my old professor taught me that," she said. She paused as she recalled what to do next. James opened his copy of Advanced Potion-Making and handed it to her, but she shook her head. "Thanks, but I've got it all here," she said, tapping her temple with her index finger. This time, even Remus gave up on his potion and paid her attention. She stirred her cauldron counterclockwise seven times and then once clockwise.

"I think you've made a mistake," Remus observed quietly, who also seemed to have memorised the book by heart.

The corners of her lips turned up, but she did not look at him. Immediately, the potion turned palest pink. "No, I did not," she said. "See?"

James let out a low, appreciative whistle. "So that's why we've never got it right," he said. "Libatius Borage screwed things up for us. But then why did Snivellus perfect it the first time around?" He moved towards her to peer more closely into her cauldron, and Hermione was assaulted by several pleasant sensations all at the same time: the warmth of his skin brushing against her arm, the scent of something spicy, soapy and loamy, something that was the man himself... He was so near, she could see the fine stubble on his chin, and it brought back memories of that night in his office.

James suddenly turned and looked straight into her eyes, his own glowing with admiration. "You're really something, did you know?"

Hermione blushed, unable to say anything.

Remus instinctively stepped back and observed them from a distance while half-heartedly continuing with his potion. What was going on between them? They had been surprisingly comfortable with each other since that morning, and he couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with last night. In any case, Regina did not seem to be shying away from James's attention. Remus felt his stomach clench at that last thought.

BOOM!

A loud explosion erupted from the other side of the room, causing some of the students to shriek and crouch for cover. Hermione and Remus ducked, while James looked warily around at Sirius, who seemed unperturbed by the disruption. He was almost sure his friend had thrown an Exploding Snap right into Snape's cauldron. It wasn't an innovative prank at all.

"That's enough! Don't panic!" Professor Slughorn shouted over the ruckus. He hurried over to Lily and Severus' table and inspected the contents of the latter's cauldron. He dipped his hand inside and pulled out the burnt remains of a firecracker. A hush fell over the class. His eyes fell on Sirius and then flitted to James, both of whom looked nonchalant. "Next time anyone plays a joke they think is funny, I hope they stop to think and remember that sometimes jokes can be lethal." His voice was rigid. Professor Slughorn rarely got angry, and his students saw that this was probably the closest he would get.

Sirius merely shrugged. Despite being blasted off the family tapestry, he was still a Black. He knew that Old Sluggy would not dare cross him.

True enough, Professor Slughorn did not say anything more about the incident. He gave a perfect score to both Severus and Lily, whose potion had also been destroyed in the process, with the reason that he was confident their brews had been excellent anyway. Despite the professor's blatant favouritism, Lily was glaring menacingly at the Marauders.

Professor Slughorn examined the rest of the cauldrons, stopping once in a while to check the potion's consistency or to sniff at it. He smiled ruefully at the contents of Sirius' cauldron; the boy was exceedingly brilliant in all his other classes, but he definitely didn't have that intuitive talent for Potions. He moved on to Peter, already knowing what to expect. He was not thoroughly disappointed, however, after seeing the dark violet contents of his cauldron. At least the boy had progressed.

He looked over James's cauldron next and was shocked to see that it had only the cut valerian roots in it. "Mr. Potter, what is the meaning of this?" he inquired sharply.

James had the dignity to look slightly abashed. "I'm sorry, Professor. But I saw Regina concocting the potion so gracefully--it was like watching a Potions ballet--that I could not help but watch, and when I came back to my senses, it was already time."

Hermione's eyebrows jumped, astonished and embarrassed at his eloquent choice of words.

"I'll have no choice but to mark a zero for you today, Mr. Potter," Professor Slughorn said, almost apologetically. He shifted his attention to Hermione. "Well, let me see what you've got for me."

Hermione stepped back from her cauldron to allow the Professor a look at it. His eyes lit up with satisfaction at her work. "Very good, Miss Weisz. Perfect marks as well."

James met her eyes once more and gave her a big smile. Lily wasn't the only one with a dab hand at Potions. She wasn't so special, after all.

As soon as Professor Slughorn had dismissed their class, Lily wasted no time in marching towards them, her pretty face marred by a scowl. She turned to James and started to say something, but Sirius cut her off.

"Sluggy didn't take any points from me, so I don't see why you should."

Lily faced him, her hands on her hips. "It was you!" she said angrily.

Sirius smirked. "Yes, but that was for James. And there's going to be more of that where it came from."

Lily flushed. So they knew. She wanted to rant about how pathetic and immature they all were, but refused to make a fool of herself once more. Sirius always outsmarted her in the end. Frustrated with unleashing her anger, she turned on her heels and stomped away from them.

James watched her go and then turned to Sirius. "Don't say anything like that next time, mate," he said quietly. "I don't want her to think I'm still hopelessly wasting away for her."

"Aren't you?" Sirius asked.

"Not anymore. I'm done with her," James replied, his face resolute. Inside, however, he really wasn't sure at all, but what was important was that he had decided he would be. How long it would take for him to be certain, he didn't know, but he hoped it wouldn't be long.

"If you say so," Sirius said sceptically.

"That wasn't really a prank, was it?" Remus asked as they exited the dungeons. "I mean, there weren't any laughs, and it wasn't really fun watching Lily get angry."

"It wasn't?" Sirius repeated. "You're losing your touch, Moony." He led the way up to the first floor, but just as they were on the foot of the stairs to the stairs to the Gryffindor tower, James encircled Hermione's wrist with his large hand.

She turned to him with a questioning look. He had been acting strange all day.

"Would you care to go for a walk?"