Never All Together

Chapter 14: Intertwined

If I believed in magic spells
It all would be so clear.
A magic spell must have
Brought you here.
If I could see the future
I'd see if you and I
Were meant to be.
But I don't know any magic
And tomorrow's just a dream
But something in this fantasy is real.

--- Randy Goodrum (If I Believed) ---

Hermione blinked, startled. What was he up to--sitting beside her in class, asking her to join them for lunch, and now requesting an afternoon stroll with her? Her heart was fluttering erratically, however hard she tried to squelch her hopes. No, it's impossible. He couldn't have forgotten Lily Evans in a snap, not after having fancied her for years. It must be about last night. Everything about today is.

Another spasm of bitterness engulfed her, and she took a deep breath to force it away. She had to say no; he wanted to be with her for all the wrong reasons. "Uh--"

"Please?" James interrupted. She couldn't be thinking of turning him down. Maybe the magic word would help.

She swallowed hard, silently cursing the imploring hazel eyes looking down at her. How could she refuse? Nervous, Hermione nodded imperceptibly.

James smiled in relief; he had been anxiously waiting for her answer. Together, they retraced their steps to the doorway of the castle and stepped onto the grounds. It had just stopped drizzling, and the sun's rays were straining through the clouds.

Hermione inhaled the scent of grass, enjoying the feel of her feet padding softly on the slightly wet ground. James, on the other hand, was looking up the sky, his heart lightening considerably at the colourful bands overhead. Its appearance after the rain was somehow symbolic; he had never thought a rainbow could be so beautiful.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked as she shrank her bag and slipped it into her pocket. She gestured at his, which was slung over his shoulder. "Is yours okay?"

James simply stared at her, painfully reminded of the teddy bear, flowers and chocolates he'd miniaturised last night. He shook himself out of his reverie and nodded. "It's fine." And then, remembering her first question, he added, "Anywhere. I just wanted to talk." If he didn't get the chance to do soon, he would explode.

His unease was reminiscent of the first few moments of their night together, when he had told her how he felt about her and had held her in his arms... Hermione shivered at the memory.

The movement drew his attention, and he turned his surprisingly warm eyes on her. "Are you cold?"

She shook her head, mesmerised. He smiled faintly and looked into the distance, wondering how best to start, as though the proper words to say were right there. James quickly opted for, "Did you get enough sleep last night?" It was lame, he knew, but at least it would open conversation on the track he wanted.

"Quite," Hermione replied dazedly. "You?"

He merely shrugged and assumed a thoughtful expression. "Last night, after I retched, what happened?"

"You fell asleep," Hermione answered quickly, faintly pink, "but not before I dried your clothes. You were all wet and muddy when you came in." She didn't have any intention of telling him the details of how she had cared for him, so she decided to turn the tables on him. "What happened to you anyway?" she asked. She knew the answer, but was curious to see how he would respond, if he would at all.

"Drank all the Firewhiskey I could at The Three Broomsticks, this little pub at Hogsmeade. You do know what Hogsmeade is, don't you?" He waited for her affirmative and continued. "Madam Rosmerta initially wouldn't allow me, but she's always had a soft spot for the four of us. So I got crocked, returned to Hogwarts, and went flying. It was raining heavily and my brain was already dim, so I fell from quite a height and landed hard on the ground," James finished matter-of-factly, as though he was narrating someone else's life.

Hermione's jaw dropped slightly open. That explains the arm, she thought. She restrained herself from asking what had provoked him to react crazily like that, hoping he would tell her on his own.

"I was so angry last night," James murmured in a low voice. "Angry and hurt that she rejected me again, especially after everything I did. I meant what I said a while ago. She doesn't deserve me, since she cannot even see who I really am. I'm giving up on her. That's what she wants anyway," he said bitterly.

Hermione still did not speak, a multitude of contradicting ideas running through her mind. She understood the fact that he was hurt, but why did he turn to her instead of his fellow Marauders? Did that mean...?

James chanced a look at her and saw her in deep thought. Misunderstanding her reaction, he immediately regretted his outburst. "I'm sorry again. I shouldn't have taken it all out on you."

She looked up from her feet and smiled uncertainly. "It's all right, James. But I just don't understand--" Hermione hesitated, but plunged ahead anyway. "Are you telling me this because you have to or because you want to?"

"A little of both, I guess," he immediately answered sheepishly. James cocked his head to one side and smiled handsomely, and Hermione inwardly sighed. "I thought I owed you an explanation, and at the same time, I wanted everything off my mind." His voice dropped to a whisper. "And I thought you were the best one to understand."

Hermione straightened up, wondering if she had heard him right. She then burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. "Should I be thrilled?" she asked jokingly, ignoring the sudden quickening of her pulse that was telling her she was undeniably pleased by his words.

"You should consider yourself privileged indeed," he replied, relaxed but serious. Her laughter had diffused the tension between them and had easily driven the remaining grey clouds away. "After all, not everyone gets to talk with me, especially on personal matters."

"Yeah, and they're certainly missing half of their lives," Hermione retorted sarcastically, still smiling and her tone light.

"Of course. Could you imagine how stale your life would be if you didn't know me?"

Hermione knew he was teasing, but decided to give him a heartfelt answer. "I cannot imagine life without you."

It was James's turn to laugh. "What flattery. That's what I like in a girl."

She grimaced good-humouredly, and he just laughed again. After that, their conversation turned to more pleasant topics. And like she always did whenever she was alone with him, she marvelled at the grace with which he carried himself and the peaceful sense of belonging she felt in his company.

"I'm a pureblood," James said when they had begun talking about their families. "I have no siblings since Mum and Dad had me rather late in life. What about you?" he inquired, looking sincerely interested.

"My parents are Muggles. They're dentists," Hermione answered. At James's baffled look, she laughed and pointed at her teeth. "Dentists. They treat teeth in a non-Magical way."

"Oh, I see," James said, even though it was quite obvious that he did not. "You're an only child as well?"

She grinned up at him. "Yes, but unlike you, I'm not spoiled rotten to the core."

James made a face and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I'm not spoiled, just strong-minded," he corrected. "I like getting my own way. But then again, who doesn't?"

They walked in silence for the next couple of minutes. James realised that this was the longest time he could remember being able to maintain conversation with a girl. From his limited experience, he either lost interest because of the girls' constant simpering and eyelash-batting, or he irritated them by his brash attitude. He glanced furtively at Hermione. She must really be tolerant.

"Don't you find me arrogant?" James prompted out of the blue, puzzled that he got along very well with her.

"Not really," Hermione answered automatically.

He raised a dubious brow. "Which means?"

She looked straight at him and smiled. She knew just what to tell him. "There is a very thin line between confidence and arrogance, James," she said patiently. "You are on that line, and though one foot steps over sometimes, it really isn't too bad. It's something called..." She paused, frowning pensively. "It's called earned arrogance."

"You mean I have bragging rights?"

Hermione shook her head in amusement. "You always interpret things to your advantage, don't you? Well then, yes, you could say that."

James exhaled and grinned, his bruised ego somewhat tended to. He almost didn't care whether or not she meant what she said; it was enough simply hearing those words.

At least she understands me.

It was dinner when they reentered the castle, laughing and punching each other playfully on the arm.

Sirius, who was already wolfing down his food, eyed James and Hermione suspiciously as they approached. "What's with them?" he demanded between mouthfuls.

"They've been acting weird all day," Peter agreed.

Remus' lips were curved in an odd, quizzical smile as he watched his friends approach. He merely shrugged in response as he tried to ignore the tightness that suddenly erupted inside.

* * * * * * *

That night, Hermione stayed up late writing down everything that had happened, stopping only once in a while to hug her knees to herself and close her eyes as she relived them in her mind.

For the first time since she had arrived, Hogwarts felt like home.

* * * * * * *

On the other side of the Gryffindor tower, a lanky, dark-haired boy with glasses was still awake, his eyes fixed once more on his ceiling. Unlike that morning, the bland designs now seemed familiar and comforting. He had just returned from his rounds with Lily. He had anticipated a confrontation, had been ready to forgive her if she would just apologise--had been hoping she would apologise--but she had acted as though last night had never happened. She really didn't give a damn about him. He didn't know whether to be angry or relieved, but he could not mistake the pain that had sliced through him at the realisation he had been so wrong about her.

But then there was her. Regina. The welcoming smile that greeted him the moment he returned to the common room had lightened his heart, the way it always did. The way everything about her did. Today had definitely turned out better than he had expected, and he hadn't had a lot to drink this time.

It was a pleasant feeling--one that made him wish it would never end.

* * * * * * *

"Where's James?" Remus asked, a slight frown on his face as he joined Peter and Sirius at a table in the common room after class that Friday. It seemed like he had done nothing the whole week but wonder about James's whereabouts in the afternoon.

Sirius briefly looked up from what he was writing just to say, "Guess."

"Somewhere out on the grounds with Regina, I suspect," Peter speculated for Remus.

Remus glanced out the window, where dark grey clouded the sky and rain was literally pouring. "It hardly looks like the perfect weather for a stroll," he remarked dryly.

"It must be the company he's after," Peter said carelessly, oblivious to the shadow that passed over Remus' face.

"What, is Regina the sun now?" Sirius reacted mockingly. Before Remus could come to her defence again, however, he jerked his head towards the portrait hole. "Well, you don't have much worrying to do now." James and Hermione had just climbed through it--wet, splattered with mud and dishevelled, but looking inordinately happy. He waited for them to acknowledge their presence, but they seemed to be caught up in their own world.

"You stink," James told her, squeezing his nose tightly and scrunching up his face in mock distaste.

He looked so stupid that Hermione could not help but laugh. "So do you. You double stink."

Sirius rolled his eyes as James said, "I guess I better help you with that then," reached out and pinched the bridge of Hermione's nose. She gave a little shriek and slapped his hand away playfully.

"Potter, you're ruining the carpet," a stern, female voice admonished from a distance. "I'm surprised Filch hasn't given you detention yet."

James inclined his head towards the voice and saw Lily glaring at him. Everybody fell quiet and watched with bated breath as they wondered what he would do next, but he simply narrowed his eyes fleetingly and returned his attention to Hermione.

"I'm going to take a shower," he said evenly; his good mood had obviously evaporated. "You should too or you'll get sick." He marched to the stairs up to his dormitory after that, taking care to wet the carpet as much as he could.

Hermione watched him go before turning to Lily, irritated. What right did she have to bring James down each time? Their eyes met, and she saw in those bright green discs a mixture of fury and confusion--and strangely, uncertainty.

It's your loss.

Unnerved, she turned on her heels and headed for her own room.

* * * * * * *

Five minutes later, James returned downstairs after a quick shower. He looked around and saw Lily nowhere. Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief. Thank Merlin. He had been trying his best to avoid her for a week, hoping it would help ease the anguish that still gnawed him inside. It had worked to some extent, as long as he kept his conversations with her to a minimum. If he had a choice, he would have skipped his Head Boy rounds with her altogether--but he didn't want her to think he was still hung up on her.

Despite all his efforts, however, he'd been blown away by the sight of her a while ago. He didn't think she could look more beautiful, even though she was glaring at him. Even though it seemed like all the feelings of hatred she'd ever harboured were only for him. He had to work hard to remind himself that she was the same woman who had torn off a piece of his heart each time he had offered it to her, the one he had mistakenly believed he would build his home and future with.

He bit his lower lip as he tried to take hold of his emotions, walked towards the table his fellow Marauders occupied and slid beside Sirius.

"What are you all so busy doing?" he asked, watching them scribble hurriedly on their parchments.

"Charms," Peter answered swiftly. "Have you done yours yet?"

James blinked in surprise. "It slipped my mind."

"I daresay," Sirius said with satisfaction. "It isn't due until Monday anyway, so you have the whole weekend to do it. Except that it's Hogsmeade weekend, of course. I highly doubt you want to spend the whole of it holed up in this forsaken tower."

Hogsmeade weekend. He was supposed to be looking forward to tomorrow, to spending a whole, wonderful day with Lily. His heart cracked open a bit more. James shook his head forcefully to erase thoughts of her, reached for a parchment, and borrowed both a quill and the book from Sirius. He started writing and then realised that Remus had not spoken since he entered the common room. James was reminded of a question he had neglected to ask him.

"Moony, have you asked her yet?"

There was an uncomfortable pause as Remus stopped writing and simply stared at his essay. It took several heartbeats before he looked up, shaking his sandy hair out of his eyes. He knew what James was talking about, of course, but he pretended not to. He tilted his head to one side in a questioning look.

"Regina," James said. He felt a shiver run through him as her name rolled easily off his tongue. "Have you asked her out yet?"

Remus stared into his friend's hazel eyes, wondering if he was serious. How could I possibly ask her with you hanging around by her side all the time? "No, not yet."

James looked genuinely surprised. "Why not? She's terrific!" he exclaimed, a smile lighting up his face.

Oh, so now you realise that too? Remus very seldom got irritated, but if James kept up what he was doing, his patience would most definitely snap.

"She's great to be around with, to talk to," James continued. He was either oblivious to the frown creasing Remus' forehead or took it as a sign that he should elaborate. "When you're talking, she has that thoughtful expression on her face that assures you she's really listening." His face grew brighter with each word.

"What do you talk about--Lily?" Sirius asked jokingly.

James's features darkened, but only momentarily. "No," he said casually. "We talk about everything but her."

Ah, now I see. If Remus didn't like the fact that James was spending so much time with her, he disliked the reason behind it even more.

"So why haven't you asked her yet?" James repeated, his attention shifting back to Remus.

"I changed my mind," he said abruptly.

"I thought you liked her," James reminded him, confused.

Yes, I do. For the first time that evening, Remus locked eyes with James. "No. Not that way," he lied softly, gauging his friend's reaction.

James frowned. "Why not? Are you sure?"

Remus forced a smile. "Of course. I never said otherwise. You just assumed that."

His hazel eyes studied him intently for several more moments before coming to a decision. He looked down at his parchment. "Well, if you're sure, that means I could ask her then," he mused absentmindedly. And then, as if realising what he just said, James jerked his head up to look at them again. "Ask her to go with us, I mean. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

Peter shook his head at once while Remus and Sirius gaped at him.

Sirius shrugged noncommittally. "Yes, I would mind, but I don't think my vote would count anyway."

"No, I wouldn't. You can ask her, James. You don't need our permission," Remus replied quietly.

James grinned. He leaned back in his seat and resumed writing, glancing up once in a while to check if Hermione was on her way downstairs. After almost ten minutes more of fidgety waiting, he saw her descend the flight of steps, and as soon as their eyes met, his face broke into a warm smile. She returned it and walked towards them.

Remus sneaked a glance at her as she sat down beside him. He didn't know if it was because she had just taken a luxurious bath, but she seemed so alive, so vibrant--almost happy. She was a splendid sight to behold, so why was looking at her so painful?

"You're still wet," James told her, gesturing at her mahogany curls. Even her complexion was dewy, and she looked as though she had just woken up.

Hermione smiled. "Yes, but at least I don't stink anymore." She turned to Remus, who had to clench his fists under the table to keep himself from rubbing a damp lock of hair between his fingers. The scent of vanilla, which he had come to associate with her, overwhelmed him again. It took several moments before he could look her in the eye.

"Could I borrow your extra quill?" she requested. Apparently, she had not forgotten her Charms assignment.

With her looking at him like that, how could he possibly decline? Wordlessly, he reached into his bag, pulled it out and handed it to her. He prayed she wouldn't notice the weak trembling of his hand.

"Thanks," Hermione said, smiling briefly before asking James to pass her a spare parchment.

Remus glanced at James while Hermione was busy writing, wondering why he hadn't popped the question yet. To his surprise, he saw that he was rubbing his hands together, the way he did whenever he was nervous. It was a while before the thought registered. James Potter was nervous about asking somebody other than Lily Evans.

James gnawed at his lower lip as he watched Hermione, who seemed engrossed with her Charms homework. Why were the right words so hard to come by these days? What are you so worried about anyway? he asked himself. It wasn't a big deal; she wasn't Lily. His mind sifted through all the moments they had spent together the past week. He had indeed enjoyed her company and was almost certain she did his as well.

She isn't Lily. The idea resounded in his head and made him feel better.

Before he could lose his nerve, he reached out and tapped her lightly on her wrist. Immediately, she looked up at him, a questioning look on her face.

"It's Hogsmeade weekend," James started, a hint of a smile on his face. "You know that village I told you about? Hogwarts students have permission to visit every now and then, and a trip has been scheduled for tomorrow."

She didn't say anything, just continued staring at him with those wide-set, expressive eyes that he had learned to depend on for comfort and assurance.

"Would you like to go with us?" he finally managed to get out, gesturing awkwardly at his fellow Marauders. "It'll be really fun," he assured her. "There's this awesome joke shop--Zonko's--that never fails to fulfil our fantasies. But if you don't like that, there's a quill shop as well, and then we can all go for a drink at The Three Broomsticks. Oh, and there's Honeydukes--"

A small smile was tugging at the corners of Hermione's lips as she listened to James babble continuously, never breaking his eye contact with her. "Okay," she interrupted simply.

"Okay?" James's shoulders twitched in surprise. She actually said yes? He paused and then smiled more widely as he nodded. "Okay," he repeated.

Hermione looked at him for just one more second before resuming with her writing. With her head lowered, James wouldn't see the big smile that threatened to give her away. She didn't want him to think the Hogsmeade trip meant a lot to her.

Feeling lightheaded, James remained looking at her long after she had turned her attention to her essay. After a while, his eyes drifted towards Remus and met his once more. He grinned and ran a hand through his already messy hair.

Remus offered a small, tight smile in return. James probably didn't realise how stupid and goofy he looked at that moment, but Remus knew.

After all, he had seen that expression three hundred and seventy-nine times before.

* * * * * * *

Hermione had no trouble waking up early the following morning even though she had had difficulty falling asleep the night before. She had never been so excited about a trip to Hogsmeade. She quickly showered, dressed into her robes and dashed out the door of her dormitory, only slowing down on her descent to the common room.

The moment she reached the last rung of the stairs, she saw James alone on a couch, staring pensively into the dying flames. Hermione slowly made her way towards him, captivated once more by his striking profile, the sound of her feet muffled by the carpet.

And then, as though aware of her presence, James turned in her direction just as she was about to call his name. They simply stared at each other for several seconds, as though spellbound by a powerful enchantment, before his face lit up in a smile.

"Morning," he greeted as he stood up and walked towards her.

His stance made her heart skip a beat. Everything about him, even at this young age, implied strength and power. "Morning," she returned, her voice barely above a whisper. "Where are the others?"

James jammed his hands into his pockets. "Already down at the Great Hall," he said. He cupped Hermione's elbow, causing a jolt of electricity to pass through her, and steered her towards the portrait hole. "I told them I'd wait for you."

Hermione let the giddiness sweep over her before answering. "Thanks," she said, smiling up at him as they went down the stairs.

The two of them joined the other Marauders for a hearty breakfast before all the students visiting Hogsmeade were asked to assemble at the entrance to the Great Hall. They fell in line, and while watching Filch scrutinise each person going out and checking if they had been given permission to visit the village, a disturbing thought occurred to Hermione.

"I don't have a signed form from my parents," Hermione whispered to James, who was in line behind her.

James's eyes widened, but only for a split second, before smiling secretively at her. "It doesn't matter." He turned to Sirius, who was in the rear, and muttered, "Let's meet at Honeydukes."

Sirius' forehead wrinkled even though he had grasped the implication of James's words. "Why?"

"Regina," James answered, nodding towards her. He stepped out of the queue, taking Hermione's hand in his and swiftly heading to the stairs, pulling her after him, hoping the caretaker wouldn't notice them.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked breathlessly. She wasn't sure whether it was due to the physical exertion after hurriedly climbing three flights of stairs--she wasn't a Quidditch player like him, after all--or to the emotions his touch awoke in her.

"The third floor," James answered as they walked down a corridor.

"Obviously," Hermione said dryly, comprehension dawning at the sight of the hump-backed, one-eyed witch in the distance.

When they reached it, James took out his wand and held it aloft, his other hand never letting go of hers. He turned to face her. "I am about to show you a very important bit of knowledge they don't teach in class or print in books." He tapped the statue lightly with his wand, muttered "Dissendium!", just as she had known he would, and watched as the hump opened up to reveal the secret passageway to Hogsmeade.

James looked back at her, expecting her to be awestruck. He was let down when he saw mere amusement on her face. "Well?" he demanded. "Aren't you impressed?"

"Where does it lead?" Hermione asked, knowing the answer.

"The cellar of Honeydukes," James said. "We use this route most often whenever we want to sneak out of school. I reckon nobody but the four of us--and now you--know about this."

"Amazing," Hermione said, making James smile. She couldn't believe he still needed praise from her to bolster his confidence. "How did you come by this?"

James's smile widened. She sounds like she really wants to know. "We do a lot of exploring at night, under a cloak," he explained, making the cloak sound like an ordinary one. "We stumbled upon this during one of those times, but we couldn't figure out how to open it at first. It was Remus and Peter who did." He decided not to tell her yet about the map.

"So we have to crawl through that tunnel to get to Hogsmeade?" Hermione inquired.

He nodded and motioned for her to climb through first. "Light your wand," he instructed when she was inside. James also entered afterwards, likewise muttering Lumos, and followed her as she made her way down the passageway.

"Watch out for the trapdoor; it might hit your head," James cautioned after almost an hour in the dark.

Hermione, however, already knew the path by heart and had pushed open the trapdoor almost immediately after James's warning. She climbed out and waited for James to hoist himself up as well. They both brushed dirt off their robes and stealthily made their way to the top floor of the store, hardly noticed due to the number of students milling around.

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" James asked as his eyes wandered in search for his friends.

"Aside from the cold, no," Hermione answered, spotting Remus' sandy hair under a sign that read Unusual Tastes. "There they are," she told James, pointing in that direction. They struggled through the crowd as they made their way there, James holding Hermione's hand once more.

"Hey," James greeted, clapping Remus on the shoulder.

Remus turned. His blue eyes travelled down the length of their arms, and he stiffened at the sight of their hands clasped comfortably together. "Hey," he replied hollowly, still not looking up.

"Finally, mate," Sirius drawled. "We were worried you ended up at Madame Puddifoot's instead. What's that?" he questioned, his voice a little hostile as he nodded towards their joined hands.

Both of them instantly let go of each other, shocked to realise that their hands had indeed been linked, and for quite some time already. "Shut up," James answered good-naturedly, peering at the display over Peter's shoulder to cover up his embarrassment. "Did you see anything you like?" he asked his friends.

Peter shook his head violently. "Ugh, no. Blood-flavoured lollies and Cockroach Clusters are really disgusting. Who would want to eat them?"

"I think I'll get some more of those Pepper Imps and exploding bonbons," Sirius announced, walking towards another display, this time under the sign Special Effects. Peter accompanied Sirius while Remus just stood in place, looking at everywhere except James and Hermione.

James shrugged and turned to Hermione. "Allow me to show you the best of Honeydukes," he said jokingly, bowing pompously before her and causing her to laugh. He enveloped her hand in his again and led her to where the finest and most expensive chocolates were. The box he had bought for Lily had come from there. Lily. He gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw at the bitter reminder. He summoned his resolve to banish all thoughts of her from his mind. When would he ever stop associating everything with her?

"Those are really delicious," he told Hermione, indicating a bunch of large bars, "though admittedly not presentable."

Hermione shook her head. "I--I don't have any money with me," she said weakly. "I didn't bring any from home."

"Oh, didn't I tell you it was my treat?"

Her face lit up in surprised delight. "Really?"

His own features brightened as well. She was just so appreciative, counting even the smallest things as blessings. "Yes, really. So which ones do you want?"

Hermione chose a box of chocolate roses, akin to what he had once given her, and a big chunk of white chocolate studded with cookie bits. Her face was alight with happiness as James paid for the goods and presented them to her with a flourish. She giggled at his silly antics. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," James answered warmly. They met up with the other Marauders outside the sweetshop, Sirius already holding his stash.

"Where to next?" Remus asked flatly before Sirius could insert another snide comment about James and Hermione, which he wasn't in the mood to hear. What he really wanted to do was return to Hogwarts; it definitely had not been an enjoyable day, but he didn't want to spoil his friends' fun just because he was feeling jealous. No, not jealous, he corrected himself mentally. Just irritable. I must be coming down with something.

"Zonko's," Peter responded promptly. "It's too early in the day for butterbeer."

They set about the path to the joke shop along with a plethora of other Hogwarts students. Hermione had opened the bar of chocolate and broken it into pieces, which she shared with the Marauders. Remus had reluctantly taken the portion she offered. It wasn't like him to be so glum, especially on such a fine day, and Hermione wondered briefly what could be bothering him.

Inside Zonko's, James, Sirius and Peter immediately started gathering joke items and tricks, including Dungbombs, fake wands and Hiccup Sweets. Hermione stood back in one corner together with Remus, who was oddly distant. The silence was awkward, and she prayed the others would finish their business as soon as possible. Besides, the air was smothering her.

"Do you want to step outside?" Remus asked quietly. The fact that he had spoken to her for the first time that week startled her more than his question. She automatically looked across at James, who was busy raiding the shelves. Remus saw the gesture and added reassuringly, "We can wait for them there."

Hermione thought that made sense and agreed. She deeply breathed in the fresh air the moment they stepped out into the busy street. The two of them walked some distance from Zonko's and took shelter under a shed, neither saying a word.

She tore off another piece of her chocolate and proffered it to Remus. As she had expected, he shook his head in response. Hermione frowned. "Is something bugging you?"

"No. I'm just not hungry," Remus answered straightaway. He bit his lower lip and focused his eyes on the ground. "Is there something going on between you and James?" He knew his words sounded so petty, but he just had to ask. He could only keep so much to himself.

Her frown deepened at his sharp tone. "No," she replied defiantly. "Is that what's bothering you--James spending more time with me than with the Marauders?"

Remus raised his brows, surprised at her train of thought. For such a smart, keen student, she really could be infuriatingly imperceptive at times. Didn't she realise how much he liked her? Hey, I said I didn't like her, he reminded himself. At least not that way.

"No," he said. "I was just... curious."

Hermione didn't respond to that, Remus' question still resounding in her head. Was there anything going on between her and James? She wanted to laugh out loud. She desperately wished there was, but she wasn't foolish enough to believe that James was attracted to her despite all the attention he had been showering her with. In the deepest corners of her heart, she knew he was still hurting about Lily and that he was just refusing to show it because that was what James Potter was famous for. Control.

"I'm sorry for annoying you again," Remus suddenly said, his voice breaking her musings.

She shrugged and freed herself from her reverie. "Apology accepted," she said easily, smiling slightly. "Now what have you been up to this past week? I don't think we even exchanged two words before today!"

Remus made an effort to smile and share her good spirits. "I've been having the same week you have." You were just too busy with James to notice.

"Oh, come on, there must be something," she prodded.

He shook his head weakly and countered, "I'd rather hear about yours."

"Mine? It wasn't anything exciting." The rush of colour that tinted her cheeks told him otherwise. "I was just with James."

Remus could not help notice the distinct caress in her voice as she mentioned his friend's name. "Really. And what did you do?"

"Talked, mostly," Hermione said, staring into the distance with glazed eyes and an almost dreamy expression on her face. "About each other, about Hogwarts, about everything." She turned to Remus, and again there was that vivacity she displayed whenever she was with James. "I learned he wasn't all about arrogance, that he's just as kind and caring and vulnerable as any other person. But I shouldn't go talking about him that way because I don't think he wants people to know that side of him. Not yet anyway." She smiled self-consciously, with the air of someone who knew another more intimately than she would ever let anybody know.

"You're fascinated with him," Remus stated, trying to dull the ache that was making it hard for him to breathe.

Her features relaxed into a beatific smile. "He is fascinating."

Remus regretted starting such a conversation; he didn't want to hear anything else about James anymore. His heart roared in his ears even as it crumpled. She likes him. She really, really likes him. He bit the inside of his cheek so hard, he almost tasted blood.

"Oi!" a male voice shouted, causing Remus and Hermione to jerk towards the source of the sound. James was running towards them; Sirius and Peter, who were carrying one large bag each, were not far behind. "We've been looking for you," he said when he reached them, his eyes flickering from Remus to Hermione. "Sorry we took so long."

"It's fine," Hermione answered.

"Could we proceed to the Broomsticks, please?" Peter requested, huffing when he caught up with them. "My legs are tired."

"Your legs are always tired," Sirius retorted jokingly. "But hey, we could all use some drinks."

I desperately need one, Remus added silently. Or maybe even more than one. Perhaps there was something to be said for James drowning himself in Firewhiskey last weekend.

James adjusted his glasses and sighed. "I was hoping we could show Regina around," he said. "After all, it's her first time here."

Sirius and Peter didn't bother hiding the fact that they found James's suggestion unwelcome. Remus interfered by conceding, "Go with her then, Prongs. We'll meet you at the Broomsticks later."

"I think that would be better," James concurred at once. He waited until his three friends had turned their backs on him and headed in the opposite direction before turning to Hermione. "What do you want to see next?"

Hermione smiled, content to be alone with him again. "Anything--it doesn't really matter. By the way, what did you buy from Zonko's?" she asked, starting conversation while walking.

James regaled her with the magical properties of the items they had purchased from the joke shop as they strolled the streets of Hogsmeade. They passed by the Shrieking Shack, and James didn't say anything about it except that it was the most haunted house in Britain. The sight of it recalled Remus to his mind, however, and he couldn't help but question Hermione, "What did you and Remus talk about earlier?"

"When?" Hermione returned, finding his query strange.

"Earlier," James repeated. "While the rest of us were inside Zonko's."

Hermione's brows knitted. "Nothing extraordinary, really. We just did some catching up with each other since we had not been able to converse for almost a week now."

"Oh." He said he didn't fancy her that way. James paused for a moment and then added, "He didn't say anything about..." His voice trailed off.

"About what?"

He changed his mind at the last second. "Never mind. It's not important."

"Something must be bothering him though," Hermione volunteered. "He certainly didn't seem like himself, sounding sharp and anxious..." She let the sentence hang.

"Do you like him?" James asked, his tone unintentionally terse.

It took a second before the implication of his question hit her. Irritably, Hermione wondered what had gotten into both James and Remus today. "No, why?" At his dubious reaction, Hermione sighed and elaborated. "Well, yes, as a friend. But as something more, no. What do you care anyway?"

James shrugged, feeling rather ridiculous now. She was right; what did her answer matter to him? "It's just that everyone likes Remus, and he doesn't even make any effort to try and do so. If he weren't my friend, I would be very jealous of him."

They turned round a corner to High Street and passed Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, where a set of exquisite pheasant-feather quills on display caught Hermione's attention. She rushed to it for a closer look, James following her.

"What excellent quills!" she exclaimed animatedly, gazing at them and then turning to James. "Aren't they pretty?"

James smiled. "Which one do you want?"

"That one in the middle," Hermione answered instantly, pointing. "Black and gold. It's very elegant." Her eyes rounded in disbelief when he took her hand and steered her inside the shop, plucked the black-and-gold pen on display and paid for it. He did everything so spontaneously that she could do nothing but watch in awe. His actions took her breath away; she couldn't even thank him when he handed the package to her.

"This was expensive," Hermione managed a few minutes later, when they were on their way to The Three Broomsticks.

"You said you wanted it," James said. "I got the correct one, didn't I?"

Hermione laughed at his inconsequential statement. "You did, but that wasn't my point. Thank you. That was really sweet of you."

James did a double take. "So now I'm not a conceited jerk? I think I like that better." Her laugh was as resplendent and charming as the peal of ringing church bells, and when he told her so, she responded with another laugh.

"You really should do that more often," James said, delighting in that sound of pure happiness, which he most definitely could get used to.

"I promise, you're making my head as bloated as yours," Hermione said.

"No, it really is becoming of you," James insisted. His compliment made her smile, and for the first time, he acknowledged the attractiveness of her lively brown eyes, the charming dimple in her left cheek, and the natural flush on her face that could only be from sheer bliss. He had never seen anyone that content, and as he wondered at the source of her happiness, he wished she could share some of it with him.

Sirius was obviously already on his third butterbeer when they entered the pub, Peter was nibbling on something he had bought from Honeydukes and Remus was busy staring into space.

"Hello," Hermione said when they reached the table. All of them returned her greeting, although Sirius did so uninterestedly and Remus wasn't as enthusiastic as usual. She sat down beside Peter just as James went off to get their drinks.

"What took you so long?" Peter asked, looking like he really wanted to know.

She smiled as she fingered the package she was holding. Now that even Remus was being cold, Peter was easily the most considerate--next to James--among the four. "Explored the rest of Hogsmeade." Hermione tore the parcel slightly open and allowed Peter to peer at it. "Look, James bought me a pheasant-feather quill. Isn't it gorgeous?"

Peter beamed at her. "James really is wonderful, isn't he?"

Hermione nodded her assent, and the blush on her cheeks, which grew even brighter, did not escape Remus. A pang of pain stabbed his heart once again, and even more deeply, as James returned with two bottles of butterbeer and sat beside her. Remus envied their cosy companionship and the conversation between them that flowed naturally. Why couldn't things between him and her be like that? Didn't she say she found James obnoxious? Didn't James say Regina was the least of his worries? It all seemed a lifetime ago.

Maybe I wasn't warm or thoughtful or interesting enough for her. Maybe she does care that I'm a werewolf. He tore his eyes away from them with much difficulty and stared morosely at his glass, running a long finger over its rim. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. James was the smart, talented one. He was rich, awfully good-looking, popular and confident. He was Head Boy, Quidditch captain--he was the one every girl in school swooned over, secretly or no.

Remus leaned his head back, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. There was no way around it--he didn't like seeing Regina with James. How could he have not realised how much she meant to him? All at once, he regretted lying to himself and, in the process, relinquishing his chances with her. His miserable situation was indeed his fault, but only partly. He refused to put the blame entirely on himself.

If he were Regina Weisz, he would also be in love with James Potter.