James' Monologue

James' Monologue

To Make Lovers From Friends Part II

A FEW WEEKS AFTER THE SNAPE-SIRIUS-REMUS-WHOMPING WILLOW INCIDENT

December, Year 6

The class was mostly silent as McGonagall passed around the list of students who would be staying at Hogwarts over Christmas. James watched blearily as Remus passed the list to Peter and as Peter passed it to Norma, to Delphi, to Lily who looked at him closely before handing it to Sirius. Sirius stared at it for a long moment before picking up his quill and beginning to write his name.

James made a noise of frustration and ripped the paper out from under Sirius' quill.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

"Signing up," Sirius retorted. "I didn't reckon you'd want me over this Christmas."

"Don't be an idiot," James spat, scratching violently through Sirius' name and practically flinging the offending piece of parchment at a frightened looking Hufflepuff.

His eyes met Lily's cool ones as he spun back around. It did nothing to lighten his mood and he looked away quickly only to find the rest of the class staring questioningly from him to Sirius. Only Remus remained facing the front of the class, his back ramrod straight, his quill moving swiftly over his parchment.

Ignoring them, James flopped angrily into his chair and stared moodily ahead. Only when McGonagall returned to her podium and the class lecture continued did everyone look away and shift their attention away from James.

But though James stared straight ahead, his mind was a million miles away. Sirius sat slumped, unmoving, his usual careless grace replaced with a tense hunch, staring at his desk but not seeing it. James shifted his attention to Remus. He wanted Remus to turn around, to say he understood, to smile in that benign way that he had that accepted everything cheerfully. But Remus stayed looking forward, his back to James, his quill's lack of movement the only thing that hinted his mind was not on the lesson either.

James stared relentlessly at Remus' back, willing him to turn around. After a few minutes, Remus complied and turned, looking at him, waiting. James simply raised an eyebrow in question, knowing Remus would know. Remus glanced at Sirius for a moment, then looked away as though the sight pained him. He didn't smile at James, he didn't even look at him, but he gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod, and turned back to his notes.

Thinking about how nearly he had almost never seen that tawny head bent over his parchment again, and how it would have been because of the bent black head to his right, James shifted his attention to what seemed like the only bright spot left in the room - a ray of winter sunshine alighting on Lily Evans' hair.

___

January, Year 6

James stared at the bottle clenched in his right hand, but couldn't bring himself to tip it to his lips. He'd never been as big on drinking as the others and though it had seemed like the thing to Summon at the time, he knew now that it wouldn't help anything.

His life was screwed up.

Everything and everyone he'd ever believed in had failed him in the last month.

His friends were falling apart.

Sirius had nearly killed someone.

His parents' relationship was suffering because of the war.

Sirius had been willing to sacrifice Remus to hurt Snape.

His sister had been right all along and his father could be as cruel as those he was supposedly against.

The image of two children huddled together in a corner seared across his brain once more - the older bent protectively over the younger, blood clinging to their hair and robes, the younger one wailing and clutching convulsively at his sister and the older one gazing fixedly at the body of her dead mother.

The children of Death Eaters.

Their father's body wasn't there. The force of the spell that had hit him had sent him through a glass window and his body lay broken on slabs of cold stone some three floors down.

James' free hand tightened on the bottle, knuckles white with tension.

How had things gotten like this?

When had everything gotten so far and how far would it continue to go?

Would those two children be killed in the near future for fear that they might end up like their parents? And who would take care of them now? There were plenty of willing homes for children whose parents had been victims of a Death Eater's wrath, but what about the children whose parents had been victims of an Auror's?

He'd supported it.

His father had done it.

It made his gut churn to think about it.

James leaned his head back and focused unseeingly on the ceiling above him, hand still clenched around the bottle. Almost unwillingly, he glanced at it.

His life was messed up. A few bottles of Firewhiskey weren't going to change a thing.

Still.

It was a shame to let it go to waste.

Figuring there was nothing left for him to do anyway and he may as well become an alcoholic, James lifted the bottle to his lips.

"Potter?"

James briefly considered throwing the bottle down and refusing to acknowledge its existence, but then he shrugged and took a swig; she already thought the worst of him anyway.

Slowly lowering the bottle, he glanced at the girl standing in front of him. The brightness of her hurt his eyes and he had to look away.

"Potter?" she asked again. She looked like she didn't know how to continue. "Is - is everything alright?"

How the hell he was supposed to answer that, James didn't know. He just looked at her and wished things had been different. Wished he hadn't been an idiot.

That thought was as depressing as his previous ones and James found himself bringing the bottle to his mouth again.

"You know," Lily said, her voice hardening slightly. "Alcohol very rarely helps situations. I'm here to talk if you need someone, not to sit here and watch you drink."

James couldn't help the sardonic little laugh that escaped his lips. She hated his guts and she still wanted to help him. She was too good for him, too perfect, too bloody beautiful standing above him with the firelight behind her and both concern and annoyance darkening her green, green eyes, her pale skin almost translucent in the darkness of the common room.

Looking at that pure, milky skin, James realized one thing fully: he'd taint her if she stayed. He was black as night - dirtier than Snape had ever been - at this moment, and he did not want her around him.

"Everything's fine, Evans," he said firmly, his voice strangely husky. He didn't look at her, but he felt her continued gaze and he knew that she could see right through him.

"You know what, James?" she said quietly after a few moments. "You really could have been something."

His hand tightened around the bottle and his eyes shut painfully. He could feel things that felt very horribly like tears form in the back of his throat and wished she would just go away. He didn't want her to see him like this.

She stood there for maybe ten seconds that felt like an eternity, before finally, mercifully turning and going quietly up to her dormitory.

Anger, hurt, and hopelessness welling up inside him, James wrenched his arm off the rest and hurled his bottle into the fire. The glass exploded and the flames reared up in response before settling into a cackling more intense than before. His mind going in circles, James sat there and stared as the fire slowly deteriorated into red coals - and died out.

___

She hated that she was actually worried about the jackass.

He hadn't been in class at all today (suffering from a hangover no doubt), no one had seen or heard from him, and the professors didn't seem to care one way or another that he was skiving off.

She hated him.

And she hated that she couldn't just go to dinner like everybody else and was, instead, tramping up the five flights of stairs to the hospital wing to make sure he was okay.

The fact was he'd succeeded in scaring her. She'd never seen Potter like this. And she couldn't help but feel that there was a very good reason.

Remus Lupin had been gone for a week.

Finally reaching the landing, Lily wrenched open the door to the hospital wing and stormed in, hoping to God no one else would be in there to witness this.

It was empty.

Lily stopped in the middle of the room and looked around. No one was there.

"Ms. Evans? Goodness, dear, what is it now?" Madam Pomfrey asked, bustling in from her office. "Has some first year turned another into a hose pipe again?"

"No, ma'am, it's just..." Lily started then trailed off. Bracing herself, she took a deep breath and plunged. "Has James Potter been in here today?"

"James Potter?" Madam Pomfrey repeated blankly. "No, not that I know of. I haven't seen anything at all of him actually. Not since...well, anyway, dear. Why do you ask?"

"Well, he - he wasn't feeling very well last night and he wasn't in class today and I - Professor McGonagall asked me to see if he was here."

"Hmm. Well, I can't say I've seen him, deary."

"And Remus Lupin?"

Madam Pomfrey went still. Sensing she'd hit a nerve, Lily pressed on.

"Is he alright, too, Madam Pomfrey? He hasn't been to class in a week. I thought that maybe Po-James wasn't here because of something to do with Remus. Are they both alright?"

Madam Pomfrey sighed.

"Well, dear, I'm sorry to admit you're a great deal more astute than some of our staff even. Yes, something did happen to Mr. Lupin, yes he is alright for the moment, no I am not aware of where Mr. Potter is at this given time but yes he is probably worried about Mr. Lupin. I am afraid I can tell you no more. Sorry, dear, it is not my confidence to disclose."

"That's alright," Lily said quietly. "If - if you see Remus, will you tell him I said to come back as soon as he can?"

Unless she was much mistaken, Lily could have sworn Madam Pomfrey was blinking away tears.

"I will, dear."

Lily shut the hospital wing door quietly. She hoped Remus was alright. She hoped Potter would be alright. Actually she hoped that they all would pull through whatever was tugging them apart. Class was awfully quiet without the four of them clowning around and causing explosions.

There had been none of that since the middle of November. All of them had been gone one day. The next day Sirius, James, and Peter were back in class, Sirius at one end of the room, James at the other, and Peter hovering back and forth between the two. Three days later, Remus had come. He'd chosen a spot near James, and Peter - by default - sat with Sirius. Remus had ignored Sirius' existence. Sirius had tried to sneak glances at him but all attempts had failed.

Remus had looked wounded, James furious, Sirius had looked at once sorry and at once completely unapologetic, and Peter looked worried. As time stretched on, James said a few words to Sirius here and there. Then there was the Christmas episode and then Christmas break itself. Then they all had come back. Sirius was outwardly his cocky self again but occasionally he'd have pensive lapses where he'd stare moodily out the window or else look forlornly at the back of James' and/or Remus' head. Remus came back looking tired and calm. He was more reserved then ever and rarely smiled. Peter had come back the same as when he'd left, the worried mediator trying to get the others to talk. James had come back a different person. He was silent and brooding, he walked Remus to every class, he ignored Snape, he ignored Sirius, he was quiet but firm in his refusal of Peter's pleas. He did nothing in class, barely seemed to notice where his feet were going in the hallways, he se! emed lost in his thoughts, an indifferent wall covering the once flashing hazel eyes.

He'd avoided her.

He looked away when their eyes met, he stared straight ahead when he passed her in the corridors, and last night...

He'd been completely cold.

James had been many annoying things in his life - indifferent was never one of them. He always seemed to just be on the verge of exploding with some emotion or another.

He was suffering over something; he'd almost cried for heaven's sake!

And he never drank.

In all the years that she'd known him, Lily had rarely seen Potter touch alcohol.

Something was very wrong.

Lily reached the grand stair that lead down to the ground floor and the Great Hall and stopped. She could hear her classmates laughing and chattering from here, the clink of plates and goblets against the tables blending in harmony with the muffled babble of the student body.

She could go down there.

Or she could keep walking straight, turn left at end of the hallway, go up two flights of stairs, behind a tapestry, down another corridor to the portrait of the Fat Lady, enter Gryffindor Common, and then walk up to the sixth year boys' dormitory where chances were a sullen boy with a bad-headache would be waiting with an indifferent welcome.

His hazel eyes would be deadened.

Lily's stomach grumbled.

She took a step towards the Great Hall and then stopped. Sighing, she shook her head.

Straightening her shoulders resolutely, Lily took a deep breath and walked towards Gryffindor tower.

___

James had gone away for the day.

He knew it wasn't strictly intelligent. He knew he could get into trouble. He knew he could be attacked even. But at this point in time, he just didn't give a damn.

He'd needed to be alone.

To think.

And - maybe even a little bit - to grieve.

It was funny that he could look with both disgust and wistfulness at what he'd been exactly two months ago.

At what they'd all been...

The wind rose suddenly, bringing with it the smell of the sea and the crash of the surf on cliff side. It was a gray wind, swirling, and howling against the rocks.

A storm was coming.

Dark clouds loomed on the eastern horizon.

But to the west...

James couldn't remember the last time he'd sat and watched a sunset.

Years.

Probably with his grandmother.

Possibly from this very spot.

This had been his grandparents' beach. In sentimentality if not legally.

He'd proposed here.

And they'd brought their children and grandchildren every summer until...

Until last summer.

James knew his father's anger had not been completely unfounded.

He understood.

How could he not, when he'd been doing exactly the same thing in smaller ways?

How could he not, when he'd have done the exact same thing in his father's situation two months ago.

But he understood now.

He'd seen it.

They were no better.

Two Death Eaters had orphaned Harold Potter and in return he'd orphaned two of them and they would probably orphan James in a few more years if it wasn't done before that and so it would continue.

So all of it would continue.

It was vicious and pointless and nothing but death would ever come of it.

His sister had been right. With her American love beads and disapproving frowns, his sister had been right about the war.

A deep rumble came from the east and reverberated across the water, seeming to wash over him and fade off into the distance. The sun was sinking ever lower, rapidly obscured by clouds.

Daylight would not last much longer.

And a storm was coming.

Lily had been right about him.

He should have...he never should have...if only...

She'd known all the while.

He really could have been something.

And he'd been too stupid to get it and too impertinent to try.

He was done.

James proved he was not quite done, however, by lifting his chin to the clouds just as the last rays of sun were dying out causing that last bit of light to flash across his eyes once more and burn there, as an ember reignited.

All he could do now was return and... scrape together what was left.

If nothing else, he could support Remus during the trial. And he could kill Sirius when the judge ordered Remus to be confined.

No, he wouldn't kill Sirius. Sirius was...Sirius. His best friend. Nothing had changed that. He was thoughtless, rebellious, cruel sometimes, but he needed James. And he needed Remus. It was time he was forgiven. If they gave him their trust now, he was much less likely to betray it again.

James knew Remus was not yet ready to forgive. He had been hurt far too deeply, in more ways than he or Sirius could even begin to understand. Remus was not ready.

But James could forgive.

Maybe, if he could forgive Sirius this, there was a chance that he, too, could be forgiven. Not now but...someday.

And as for Lily...

He didn't know what to do about Lily.

He knew what he should do and that was to leave her alone, forget about her entirely, and let her live her life.

He knew what he wanted to do and that was still - somehow - to make her love him.

Neither was possible.

Lily would never love him and he couldn't imagine himself living without her.

It was as simple and as complicated as that.

Abruptly, a seam in the sky seemed to split and all at once, the rain began pouring down. It washed over him, drenching him in seconds.

He couldn't see a thing.

Realizing this was because his glasses were covered with water droplets, James gave a half-laugh and took them off, carefully placing them in his the pocket of his robes. He laughed again when he took in the state of his robes and realized what he must look like.

He stood up and ran a hand through his sopping hair, all his breath coming out in a whoosh.

His was an idiot, he realized. All the sane people were indoors. Even the sea animals were tucked away during the storm. There wasn't a single crab or sand-bird in sight.

Grinning unconsciously, James tugged his robes over his head and wrung them out, then moved to place them in the box he'd packed his lunch in. He observed the sorry state of the cardboard box, sagging under the weight of rain water and limp with wet and laughed. He swung his robe around his shoulders and threw his head back towards the sky, watching as a jagged bolt or light pierced it.

A cry from somewhere above startled him slightly. James turned his head in search of the sound and stared in disbelief for a few seconds.

He wasn't the only crazy one after all. High above him, circling and looping through the wind as though having the time of its life, was a gull, white wings spread in sheer defiance of the gray clouds.

Or maybe in glory of them.

James watched the gull's progress for several minutes in complete oblivion to the rain pelting him. That bird enjoyed flying as much as he did. For the first time, he thought he understood why...

His watch beeped, bringing him back down to reality. He gave a start when he realized it was six o'clock. He hadn't meant to be gone this long.

The sandwiches and box were a lost cause but James gathered them up anyway, wanting to leave the beach as untouched as he'd found it.

Glancing skyward one last time and smiling freely for the first time in months, James saluted the gull with his free right hand and Apparated back to Gryffindor tower.

The first thing he noticed was her smell.

It was in the room.

Lily was no where in sight but her scent - a heady mixture of soap, peppermint, and vanilla - hung around in the air.

She'd been here.

Looking for him?

James doubted it somehow, but it was a nice thought.

Then he saw it.

Stuck to the mirror was a note in Lily's hand addressed to Remus.

James let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He hadn't really expected her to have come looking for him but now it was obvious she'd had no thought but for Moony. His initial reaction was a flare of anger in his gut, but it disappeared quickly. Remus deserved her care; he didn't.

Carefully unsticking the note from the mirror, James Summoned his wallet from his bedside table to place it in. He'd give it to Remus when he saw him on Saturday. The trial was on Sunday.

The sight of his name, however, caught his attention.

Dear Remus,

I don't where you are or how you are or what's going on. No one will tell me anything and I can't help but fear the reason for this. I hope that you're alright. I hope it has nothing to do with your lycanthropy and everything to do with a prank gone wrong that's turned your feet purple and warty or something equally disgusting and ridiculous. Ancient Runes isn't the same, that's for sure. I know you think Rosalind 'fascinating' (Don't deny it, Remus, it's no good. I know you like her) but she's not near as good a partner as you are.

Please come back soon.

Everything seems wrong somehow. Especially James. I mean Potter. I mean... I hardly know what I mean. I'm worried about him. He's...different. And sad. I know I've said I million times I don't care anymore but I do. How could I not? He -

You don't want to read this.

Get well, Remus, whatever's the matter. We miss you. I miss you. Write me please so that I can stop worrying or so that I can worry properly. Let me help whatever it is. I've been collecting assignments and notes for you. I know Potter is getting notes for the classes he has with you, but I've got them for all the others. You won't fall behind. Please write. Even if its two words, I don't care, write me.

Love always,

Lily

She was amazing.

James actually had to place a hand around his bed post to steady himself.

She was the most amazing person he knew.

For Remus.

And despite everything, she still cared about him.

James refolded the note and placed it carefully - almost lovingly - in the folds of his wallet. He'd make sure Remus got it. It'd do him good, make him feel better.

It had made James feel better.

He hadn't ruined things completely.

Nearly.

But not quite.

Maybe...

A thought entered James' head but it was almost too bright so he turned away.

No.

Not that.

Not after everything.

But still it lingered.

Maybe...

Maybe they could be friends.

Like they used to be.

Not right now but maybe...

Maybe someday.

___

Two Weeks Later

The third years' voices were getting louder and louder. James knew that any second now, a dual was going to erupt.

"- son of a store clerk. Your family's a disgrace to-"

"My family? Your mother's the one in Azka-"

"Don't bring my mother into this, Longbottom."

"Shut your mouth then."

Tim Avery's nostrils flared. He pointed his wand at Frank. Frank returned the favor.

"Ras-"

"Tor-"

"Hey, hey, hey," James called, striding forward.

All the surrounding third and second years started at the sound of the older voice and they turned as one towards the source, obviously praying it wasn't a teacher or Filch.

The two fighting, however, didn't seem to have heard him. An ugly rash had erupted all over Longbottom's right arm and Avery seemed to have been seized by a coughing fit. Neither was letting it stop them.

"Min-"

"Bys-"

James stepped right between them. They saw him then and both spells died on their lips. They stared up at him.

"Get - cough - out of the - cough - way," Avery ordered between fits.

"Put down your wand."

"Cough -no."

"You have three seconds."

"I'm not gonna."

"Three. Two.

"Pet-"

"Expelliarmus!"

Avery's wand sailed neatly into James' hand.

"That was stupid," he told him. Avery scowled and then heaved, a trail of saliva actually coming out of his mouth when he coughed.

"Finite Incantatem," James said and Avery quit coughing. Quite apart from being grateful, Avery frowned at him and crossed his arms over his chest.

James was silent as he kneeled and inspected Longbottom's arm. He recognized the hex as one Sirius had taught him a few years ago and that he himself had used. Frowning, he tapped where the rash started. "Relievim."

Avery seemed unable to contain himself any longer and burst out,

"You can't do anything to us. You're not a Prefect. You're not allowed...

James cocked an eyebrow and looked at him. Avery trailed off wordlessly, scowling. "I'll tell Snape," he shot.

James rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I'm scared now. Shaking in fact." He went quiet and looked at the two boys then all the others gathered around. On his knees, he was eye level with them. They were just watching him, to see what he'd do. James knew he was something of a hero to the younger students, because of his Quidditch talent. His stomach clenched to think of the example he'd been setting before and he wondered if it wasn't too late to change that.

"I don't know what to tell you lot," he said, looking at them all. "Normally, you'd be punished but I'm hardly in a position to do so and don't feel like I have any right even if I did have the power."

They were dead silent.

"I can tell you it doesn't help. I was one of you, believe me, but...it doesn't help anything. You," he looked at Avery. "Are not making your cause look any better by acting like a juvenile delinquent and you," he turned to Longbottom "are not helping our side by lowering yourself to their level. Think about it." He tossed Avery his wand and stood up. "McGonagall will be hearing about this from a Prefect; you'll just have to wait for her judgment. Now get to class."

They all scurried off, leaving James standing and looking at nothing, wondering what on earth had possessed him.

There was a scuffling sound from atop the stairs and James glanced up to see Albus Dumbledore standing there with a half-smile on his lips, his light blue eyes twinkling merrily. Eyes on James, he rose a hand to his forehead and said,

"Twenty points to Gryffindor."

James nodded, grinned, and returned the salute.

___