It started with a letter.

On an evening in late September, by the firelight of Gryffindor common room, James Potter received a letter. This letter, as many before it had, bore a black Ministry of Magic seal. He and his mates had been sitting comfortably, laughing about something one of them had bought from Zonko's joke shop. In the midst of the chuckles, they heard a tapping at the window.

Being closest to the window, Remus Lupin arose from his seat and attended to the owl, opening the latch to let it in. He removed the letter tied to its leg and searched in his pocket for a few spare bronze knuts to give to the animal. After placing it carefully in the pouch, Remus glanced at the name on the envelope. "Prongs," he called, "it's for you."

"Who from?" responded the other from across the room.

Remus glanced down at the envelope and replied, "Ministry, by the looks of it." He strode back over to the couches and tossed the letter to his friend.

James's brow furrowed while from his left side, Sirius Black barked a laugh. "What laws have you broken this time? Rather, which one did they catch you at?" He shared a wink with the blond boy on one of the armchairs opposite them, Peter Pettigrew. The lad in question grinned broadly. If an outsider were present, they might have felt as though they were missing an inside joke. In truth, there were a great many laws that those boys had broken together, in equal parts for selfless and stupid reasons.

"I dunno," said James with a shrug. "Haven't done anything illegal yet this year, as far as I'm aware."

"Yet," said Remus with a small smirk. "Qualifiers make all the difference, Prongs. Besides, it's not as if we haven't done anything illegal other years. D'you reckon it's about something we've done before?" His smirk faded into a faint frown as possibilities likely ran through his head.

James gave a slight frown as well, but turned the letter around to open it. He saw the seal and nearly dropped it. His mouth went dry and with shaking hands he took the letter out of its envelope. He scanned the page for a name. He didn't care about the words, just the name they pertained to. He couldn't see it; there was so much writing and where was the bloody name because he needed to know who. Several agonizing seconds later, his eyes fell upon these words: Our condolences for the loss of your father, Charlus Potter.

For the loss of your father.

His father.

In reading those words, something deep inside James Potter broke.

He looked the other words now, but they didn't matter because nothing mattered, because his father was gone and no words could cause that to make sense. His father was a retired Auror and in his time, he'd battled dark wizards constantly without much serious injury. The injuries that he had received were nothing the Healers at St. Mungo's couldn't fix. James wondered if the Healers at St. Mungo's could fix him because he felt as if his body had shattered and each little shard was collapsing in on itself until there would be nothing left of him.

Sirius murmured words he did not hear and he felt the paper that had broken him being yanked from his hands. He felt, because he could not see. Nothing beyond the fireplace facing him existed. Curse words, by the sound of it, were flowing from mouths but he could not bring himself to move, let alone try and decipher what these things meant.

"Prongs," he heard, before everything faded to black.

He did not cry at the memorial. He could not, when his mother was crying enough for the both of them. His father had requested to be cremated, so he couldn't even see his father again, though he vaguely registered that this was better, because he didn't think that the fragile shards inside him could handle seeing his father so cold and lifeless. They had always known this was a possibility. His parents were older, even by wizarding standards. But it wasn't fair, because there was a war on and people thought it was a relief that his dad had died from a bloody heart attack rather than Death Eaters.

What was worse, some part of him agreed with them.

Sirius spoke about his father at the service. He said what a great man James's father was, and what Mr. Potter had meant to him, practically adopting him as a second son. His voice choked up near the end of his speech and he took off the Sonorus Charm.

James had spoken. He could not remember what he'd said, though if he looked in his pocket he'd see the crumpled parchment he'd read his words off of. He was too numb to even absorb the words being said, and dully responded as politely as he could to the many people who had come to pay their respects.

Sirius came back to stand at his side, and when he did a horrific vision filled James's mind. He saw Sirius, still and cold, with a ghost of a laugh remaining eerily on his face. It made his blood chill and it took his friend shaking his shoulders to bring him back.

He did not talk to Sirius the whole train ride back to Hogwarts.

James buried himself in his work. It was an easy thing to do, having reached his seventh and final year of education. There was no lack of schoolwork to be found. He completed his essays and projects as soon as they were assigned, breaking his tradition of procrastinating to the morning they were due. As Head Boy, he also had patrols to schedule and conduct, meetings to run and paperwork to file. Then there was Quidditch practices as well, to keep him busy.

He didn't consciously realize he wasn't spending time with the boys at first. It just... happened. At breakfast, he would eat before they arose. At lunch, he always forgot something in the common room he'd need for his afternoon lessons and would arrive after most had left. Dinner, he ate in the kitchens as he completed his homework.

In lessons the divisions became more obvious. It had been an unspoken rule in any of their shared classes that the four boys would interchangeably pair up. Usually James with Sirius, as both boys were exceptionally talented and had more time to goof off after they'd quickly finished their work. But now James had taken to sitting in the front of the room, next to his partner in head duties, Lily Evans. The first day he had done it, he felt quizzical eyes burning holes in the back of his robes. They didn't get a chance to ask him about it, though, because he only slipped into their dorm when the last of them was sure to be asleep.

Normally a social, carefree person, James and his friends usually found himself among a gaggle of their peers. The others still did, but he was no longer among them. While the chattery students had at first been curious as to where the bespectacled Marauder was, they soon adjusted to the new group dynamic. People knew not to approach him for messages meant for Sirius, Remus and Peter. He was from then on just their roommate in the eyes of the student body.

It was hardest at the full moon. Sirius and Peter had walked directly up to him, his own silvery cloak in hand, telling him in hushed voices that it was time to leave. James, taken aback, stuttered, "I–I have patrols."

Sirius shrugged, unconcerned. "Tell her you can't make it." he said, gesturing for his companion to rise.

He shook his head. "I can't," he told them.

The black–haired Gryffindor narrowed his eyes. "You can't," he repeated, with obvious anger. "What do you mean you bloody can't? We have to, Potter. You know we do." He bared his white teeth slightly, looking at the male in front of him with aggravation and disappointment.

"I can't," he said again, shaking his head. "I'm Head Boy and I can't do that." James rose from his seat to leave the common room, as he had arranged to meet his patrol partner in the Entrance Hall. As he began to walk away, Sirius sauntered toward him, looking as if he might say something. But then the boy looked at his watch, and glanced out the window at the setting sun. He gave James a dark look and shot out of the portrait, Peter trailing after him.

He and Lily grew closer. She had initially been surprised and somewhat irritated at his new position as her partner, but in seeing that he was not going to make her bear the brunt of the workload, she eventually warmed up to the idea of their partnership. By February, they could even be considered friends, a strange and unfamiliar idea between the two.

In truth, James wanted to avoid her, too. Her most of all, in fact, but he was not strong enough to do so. He had broken all other bonds, tight as they had been, yet this one lone tie he was unable to sever. He clung to it even more, having lost all other connections to the person he was rather than who'd be become. She was his constant, from the boy who had asked her out by the lake in fifth year, to the man who patrolled with her every Friday night.

The thought struck a chord with him.

"Would you consider me a man?" James asked her abruptly. They were walking down the corridor, patrolling.

Lily stopped in her tracks. James followed suit.

She was confused, that much was apparent. He supposed he'd expected her to be, at such an off-topic and strange inquiry. "That's– I– You– " She stumbled uncertainly over her words. Lily paused and responded, "Give me a moment to think."

James nodded. In truth, he'd thought the question much simpler than her reaction implied. There only two answers: yes and no. He wondered which it would be, and which he might prefer. He had changed over the course of the few months that had passed. He'd gone from his foolish and carefree behaviour to a polite and orderly Head Boy. Didn't these changes mean he had matured?

"I don't know," Lily said finally, after a long pause. "I can't tell, not yet. You could be, but you also might not be." They continued walking.

James nodded again thoughtfully. He sighed quietly, so low that it may have been mistaken to not having been uttered at all. It resembled his changed tone of voice, soft and unassuming. At the beginning of the year, he had a deep and booming tone which could only be described as boisterous. "Why don't you know?" he asked after a pregnant pause in conversation.

"Why does it matter?" she countered.

He ran a hand through his hair, not meeting her eyes. "It doesn't." Did it? He wasn't sure. He hadn't assumed she'd answer yes immediately. He'd just... hoped, maybe. It was a strange thing, hoping, as he hadn't done it in a while. The war, with its glaring and gory headlines flashing on newspapers, and black-sealed envelopes arriving for students every other day, had sucked the hope from him like a deluminator to a streetlight. In conversation, he was the first to admit that their side stood little chance. He would fight, as he could not stand on the sidelines in any case, but it was all nearly pointless anyway. Not that many engaged him in conversation at that point.

Her voice cut through his thoughts. "May I ask you a question?"

James barely suppressed a smirk. It was a habit of his that was hard to lose. "You already have," he told her, raising his eyebrows.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Whatever. May I ask a personal question?" she inquired.

"You may. I don't promise a proper answer." he qualified.

"Fair enough. Why are you acting so different lately?" she asking, exasperation seeping into her voice.

Immediately, James knew what she was talking about. The lack of interaction between he and his dorm-mates, his new-found respect for the rules and his dark and apathetic manner being among a large list of differences to his behaviour. Still, he feigned confusion. "Different? How so?"

"You know," she hedged, attempting to prod him into answering.

"I'm afraid I don't," he replied with a shrug.

Lily burst out with a flood of words, like overflowing waters pushing past a fragile dam. "You want to know how you're acting different? Fine. You don't talk to your best mates anymore. You don't talk to anyone anymore! You're morbid and sarcastic, you hardly ever laugh and you don't seem to feel anything anymore. As far as I know, you haven't even cried over your father's death!"

James stood rigid at this proclamation. At any mention of his father, he had just repeated, "I don't want to talk about it, I'm fine." Everyone had accepted it. Many were dealing with their own losses, and so his were of little importance to them. He'd asked Lily not to mention it as well and she'd kept her word up until this point. She continued on, seemingly unaware of how her speech was tearing him apart.

"Yes, I know it was painful on you. More painful than I could ever imagine, having both of my parents alive. Keeping it all bottled up will do nothing but hurt you, James. If you don't want to talk about, then that's fine, but at least give everyone a bloody indication you are feeling something. Scream, swear, sob, punch a Slytherin, do anything! It worries me to see you so indifferent!

"Dumbledore made you Head Boy and yeah, that means you should have gained some sense of maturity and responsibility. But it's like I don't even know you anymore! You'd been changing for a while, I knew it before. At the start of this year, I realized you were different. A nice sort of different and still the same in the ways that mattered. But as the year progresses, you're more and more different and I'm not sure if I like it." She breathed heavily, the flood having stopped, only leaving destruction and shock in its path.

James was unprepared for this. She was shattering him again, from the inside out. Those fragile shards left of him, undisturbed since his losing his father, were cracking under the pressure of her heavy reprimands. He was not ready to face such a conversation and didn't know whether it was best to walk away, concede, or take her advice and scream at the top of his lungs. Unable to push himself any further, he simply took the easiest way out. "I don't know what you're talking about." he told her in his barely-there voice.

Lily seemed angry. She grabbed his arm and spun around so she faced him. "No, James, you can't do this. I know you better than that. You're bloody feeling something, and I want to know what!" In seeing him flinch at her volume, she softened. "Please, James."

Just as so many months ago he'd felt something inside him break, seeing Lily Evans look at him like at that, James Potter felt something put itself back together.

"I'm scared," he admitted, his voice showing just that. "I've already lost someone, and I'm supposed to be relieved, because at least he wasn't murdered... I didn't mean start avoiding them, I swear it; I just wanted to be alone. I sort of realized somewhere along the way that this is just... easier. I'm going to lose them eventually, we're bound to...die, soon enough. It's best that we don't care for each other. It will make everything hurt less when it happens."

"James," she said softly to him. "Are you stupid?" Lily took on a blunt tone.

Out of all things he had been expecting her to say, this response would place in two hundred and fifty-seventh. She did not seem to notice his expression, however, or kept speaking regardless. "You're not the only one whose feelings matter here. Have you ever taken into consideration how much you're hurting them now? You've barely said two words to Sirius in the past month, I'm sure of it. Christ, what the devil made you think that they don't care for you any longer? I'm certain they're bloody angry, but they're your best mates, of course they'll be hurt if you die. It's so selfish of you to even attempt to ignore seven years of friendship! They care about you and you're hurting them because you hope you won't get hurt."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, unable to look her in the face.

Lily sighed, releasing him. "I'm not the one you need to apologize to, James." She stepped back from him, and seemed to consider something. "Your behaviour towards your mates isn't the only thing you've changed, James. What's wrong with you lately? You always talk about us dying in this war, you never seem happy, or angry or even sad, and you don't bloody laugh anymore." Her voice became thick with emotion, shocking James. "I miss your laugh. I just miss... you, as you were. You may have been an annoying git sometimes, but that's part of who you were and I liked who that was."

"Lily, I can't be that person anymore." James said, shaking his head. "I'm not him. Do you really want me to go back to hexing Hufflepuffs and getting into fights with Snape?"

"Of course not, you know I don't. But this isn't you. James Potter would never never abandon his friends, or do homework when it's assigned, or go months without a prank, party or far-fetched scheme. James Potter would fight a bloody brigade to protect his mates, copy Remus's essay last minute and try and sneak firewhiskey into the common room for a Quidditch victory party. You don't have to bully someone or slack off on your duties. I know you're more mature now, but that doesn't mean you can't have some fun once in a while. And if you have to hex a damn Hufflepuff to get back to being the way you were –the way you really are– then so be it."

He was at a loss. For years on end, they clashed and scream and yelled at each other cruelly over him acting the way she was describing him. They had pushed each other's boundaries to the point where, had they gone much further, they would have surely damaged one another irreversibly. Was she asking for that once again? "What do you want from me?" he demanded with a hint of desperation.

"I want you to feel something."

"I do feel something! That's the bloody problem!" he shouted suddenly. He pulled at his hair, pacing the corridor. "I feel too damn much and I hate it. I feel pissed as hell that I can't grieve over my father without seeming selfish because everyone else's families are dying, I feel terrible because I've treated my mates like shit, I feel terrified that everyone I care about will die in this god forsaken war and I feel so damn weak because of all the people I should be avoiding, it should be you."

Lily looked hurt. "Why me?" she asked in a small voice.

James looked on the verge of madness. His spectacles were lopsided on his face and his hair stuck up at impossible angles as he opened his mouth to continue shouting. "Because I feel the god damn most for you and that's what's going to kill me. I've tried so bloody hard to stay away from you, but I can't and when you die, I'll die. I've already been feeling so absolutely shattered and I won't be able to handle losing you. Yet I can't make myself push you away, because I fucking love you too much!"

Lily's eyes widened and James's mouth snapped shut. He stopped pacing and looked to her with a stunned and horrified expression. Her voice was hoarse as she said, "Oh."

"Don't hate me," he pleaded, stepping away from her. "You can slap me, scream or walk away and pretend I never opened my god damn mouth, but don't hate me. I couldn't stand if we just went back to fifth year after all this."

"James," she said, closing her eyes. "I don't love you."

Her words pierced his heart, although he was determined not to show it on his face. He'd always known, but to hear her say the words aloud crushed that demon known as Hope once more. "I expected as much," he said, with a hint of bitterness. "I wasn't asking you to... I didn't even bloody mean to blurt all that out anyway. We can just forget it happened, alright? It's for the best." He began to walk to walk down the corridor, but turned back around when he noticed she was not following.

Lily opened her eyes, calm and melancholy green revealing itself. "I don't love you." she repeated. "I like who you were. The James Potter who was a bit of an arrogant blighter on occasion, but who told ridiculous stories, pulled pranks, smiled, laughed and talked to his friends. He never once considered the possibility of failure in this war. He made a fool out of himself to get my attention and asked me out every single day, even though he knew I'd say no. He was the type of boy to sneak onto the Quidditch pitch at midnight, to change the hangings in the Slytherin common room to red and gold, to set up a wonderful surprise party for my birthday on the wrong day, then have the party anyways. I fancy him, not this resentful, morbid character."

"I don't know if I can ever find him again," James said, wishing with all his heart he could.

"When you do know, come find me." said Lily, giving him a small smile and walking away, leaving their patrol unfinished.

James stood in that corridor for an undetermined amount of time after he watched her leave. His mind had just about caught up to, Are you stupid?As he processed the scene that had just occurred, he knew what would need to be the first step in returning to the person he once knew himself to be. He wished to return the numb feeling he'd become accustomed to over the past few months, but try as he might, he could not. He was forced to face everything he felt. The walk to Gryffindor tower took an eternity.

He collapsed on one of the scarlet couches, beginning the wait. If he was to catch them, he must catch them off-guard. With guilt rushing through him, he realized it was the full moon and he would not get a better chance. He sat there from half-past midnight to the time when the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon.

Three figures stumbled in. They had a disillusionment charm on, but it was removed upon their entrance. It was the bloodied and battered forms of Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Remus was to return to the hospital wing as soon as possible, James knew, but he always liked to change into clean robes before he would, a courtesy which Madame Pomfrey allowed. The werewolf's eyes jumped to his own shadow immediately, narrowing suspiciously.

James stood, and each had a different reaction. Peter narrowed his eyes, Remus gave him a cold look and Sirius pretended not to have seen him, continuing towards the dormitory stairs. "Wait," he called, his voice stronger than he felt.

Sirius turned around slowly. "Oh, the Head Boy suddenly thinks we're good enough to talk to him?" he drawled.

"Perhaps he can finally fit us into his busy schedule." Peter added with a roll of his eyes.

"I don't think I stand alone when I say I'd like to kindly inform the Head Boy I don't give a fuck," Remus said harshly. The three began to ascend the stairs, leaving James standing there alone.

"Please," he said to their backs. None of them paused. "I'm sorry," he pathetically offered.

It was Sirius who reacted to this the most. Remus and Peter faltered, but Sirius turned with a sneer on his face worthy of his mother. "Sorry, Potter? That's what you have to say? You bloody ignore us for months, without warning or reason and all you have to say is sorry? You aren't even worth our time," he spat disdainfully. James winced as the blow hit its mark. Sirius and Peter continued up the staircase until they were out of sight, but Remus stayed on the same step he was on, fists balled up at his sides.

He swung around. "Do you even bloody realize what you've done to him? You were supposed to be his best mate and you barely speak to him at all. You completely changed, without any warning. Don't you realize how hard Sirius took it? You were like a brother to him! You know what it's like with him, he doesn't trust anyone. He lost your dad, one of the closest things he's had to a parent since the Blacks and then he lost you. You've destroyed the only family he has left."

"Moony–" James started.

"–Don't call me that. You gave up the right to address me as like a friend when you stopped treating me like one." Remus had his face turned partially away, but when he looked at James straight on, he received the full-on view of his injuries. His shirt was torn, smeared with dirt and reddened by his wounds. Blood and claw marks were visible down the left side of his mangled face.

James felt a rush of guilt for missing so many full moons. They were always worse when he wasn't there. Peter had too small of an animagus form to be of any difference and there was only so much Sirius could do. "Shit, M– Remus. I just... I want to give you an explanation. I know it won't make a difference, but I owe you all that much."

Remus sighed heavily. He looked more tired and adult-like than James had ever seen him. It could have been his sense of weariness, or the frown lines that had already begun to work their way into his skin. It could have been the few gray hairs he was already starting to get, though he was only seventeen. James thought it was how his sense of right and wrong had been defined and held to, for the most part. It made him wonder whether Remus was seen as a man in Lily's eyes. Probably.

"Will you listen?" James requested without much optimism. He stared at his trainers.

"Give me a reason why I should," Remus replied, surprising him.

He looked up. That damned hope once again surged up within him. "I don't have one," he admitted. "Except that if you hear me out, maybe Sirius will. As much of a bastard as I've been, I'd still like it if I could give him some of his family back."

Remus gave a single, reluctant nod. James spoke quickly, before his roommate could change his mind. "I lost my mind when my dad died. I shut down, so to speak. I wanted to be alone, so I made myself alone. Then I figured, why not stay alone? Voldemort's on the rise and the more people you care about, the more it will hurt when everyone dies. So I convinced myself not to care and to force you all into not caring either. I know it's stupid."

"Incredibly stupid," Remus said with a frown. "You've been a right bastard to us, James."

James nodded. "I know. A selfish, stupid bastard." he agreed, ruffling his hair.

Remus looked frustrated. "How much an idiot are you? Ignoring us doesn't solve anything. Yeah, I think you're a git, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't care if you died. You're my brother, of course I'd care. It wasn't your decision to choose whether we could care or not. And Merlin, it was selfish. You put through us through all that shit because you didn't want to deal with our deaths? You'll have to deal with them anyway, eventually." He looked sad as he added the last part. "You're so damn stupid, James."

James wasn't sure whether to be upset his apology wasn't working or hopeful that his dorm-mate still considered him a brother. He settled for hopeful. The sandy-haired Gryffindor began to speak again. "I could stand here and call you names or tell you how moronic you are some more, but I'm not going to. I have to go to the hospital wing," he said with a sigh. Remus ran a hand through his own hair, before descending the stairs and heading towards the portrait hole.

"Can I come with you?" James blurted, and then winced.

Remus turned and raised an eyebrow. "Sirius will be down to see me later. I'm not sure he wants to see you." When James looked unyielding in his request, Remus pursed his lips. "It's a long walk to the hospital wing."

"I'm up for it," he answered quickly. Remus gave a jerk of his head towards the portrait hole and that was all the encouragement James needed. The two exited the common room, silence falling between them as they walked.

Half-way to the hospital wing, James decided he could no longer stand the silence. The only sounds coming from either were their footsteps and the squeaking of their worn trainers and it was slowly driving him to madness. Thud. Thud. Squeak. Thud. Thud. Squeak. He had been thinking as they walked, with the hopes that he could soon articulate his musings. When he heard the one hundred and sixth squeak –and he had been counting– he finally piped up. "I think you should forgive me," James announced, nearly hitting himself afterwards. I think you should forgive me? Bloody clever argument that is, he thought.

To his surprise, Remus laughed. Loudly, so that it echoed in the corridor. "I'll admit, I've missed how eloquent you are, if anything." After a moment though, his companion sobered. "I don't think so, James." he said, shaking his head.

"But," scrambled James, latching on to the positive parts of that response, "You need to!" he insisted stupidly.

His companion did not chuckle this time. "Why, pray tell, do I need to?" asked Remus.

"Because if you don't give me a chance, Sirius sure as hell won't and he misses his brother just as much as I do. Because I hate that you have to face full moons without me. Because you miss my sense of articulation. Because if you don't forgive me while we're in Hogwarts, we might not get a chance to be mates again because of this war. Because I do care, and you do too." Each word chased another, so quickly that James wasn't quite sure what he would end up saying as he said it. He waited, searching Remus's expression for an indication of wavering.

And waver he did. Remus looked pained as he said, "One chance, Potter. I'm not forgiving or forgetting, I'm giving you a chance to be my mate again. I'm giving you one chance and if you screw this up, we're done. If you mess with Sirius again, we're worse than done." he added with a warning look.

Filled with a burst of affection for the lycanthrope, James shortly debated what his next move should be. He settled for throwing his arms around in his friend in a slightly unfamiliar sensation of hug. He hadn't hugged anyone since saying goodbye to his mother on the platform at the start of the year. Proud, James hugged Remus harder.

He coughed several times. "Injured," he reminded James in a hoarse voice. His thin friend was clearly strained by the force of his display.

James gave him a look of sheepish apology before releasing him. "Sorry," he muttered. "I haven't screwed it up yet, have I?"

Remus winked. "Qualifiers make all the difference." The two shared a brief laugh and continued to walk. A curious expression fell upon Remus's face. "What brought all this on? Whenever I've seen you haven't seemed any closer to... becoming yourself again."

"Lily," James stated simply. He then recounted the basic details of their exchange, explaining how she had acted as the catalyst for his realizations. "I figured she was right, I needed a bit of a wake-up call. Though I sort of wish I hadn't woken up quite so much around her." He remembered with a wince his words: I fucking love you too much.

Remus gave him a wary but amused look. "What'd you say?" he inquired with a quirk of his lips.

"I may or may not have told her I loved her," he confessed.

"Oh."

"Yeah, that was her response too." He chuckled weakly.

"Could've been worse." James gave Remus a dry look. "She could've screamed," said Remus with a smirk.

James gave an honest laugh. He pondered the events that had occurred following his admission. He wasn't quite sure if they were real. "She may or may not have said she fancies me back," he told the other uncertainly.

Remus looked at him incredulously. "How can you not know if she said she fancies you? It's a pretty big thing for you to miss."

The Quidditch captain scratched the back of his head. "I dunno... I heard her say it. But I'm half-convinced I was hallucinating that bit. It's been a very long night." James shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Either way, she said she didn't like the person I'm being, because that's not I am... or something like that. She wants me to return to who I was, says that's who she fancies. It's all very confusing." He felt a headache coming on as he tried to decipher what she had said so many hours ago. He remembered certain sections of her speech vividly, but in truth he had dreamed such a situation before and did not trust himself to have been mentally present.

"You reckon she'll give you chance once she finds out I have?" asked Remus curiously.

James shrugged. "A bloke can hope. Right now though, I need to focus on earning chances from the others. How hard do you think it'll be?" He looked at the other seventh-year questioningly.

"Wormtail's been missing you something fierce, he shouldn't be too hard. He might resist a little for dramatics' sake, but he'll likely forgive you." he said without hesitation.

"And Sirius?" James asked, dreading the answer. He did not have high hopes. They hadn't had a falling out like the one they were facing since fifth year. Then, it had been James who was angry and disappointed, James unwilling to forgive. The proof had been when Sirius had walked away from him. No matter how cross they were with each other, they never turned their backs on each other. When Sirius had nearly gotten Snape killed, still James would be in contact with him, if only to fight. They had never refused to listen before.

"Sirius... It won't be easy. He's missed you as well, but he took it the hardest when you starting acting like you did. I'm not quite sure how that'll go, to be honest." They had arrived at the hospital wing. "This is my stop."

James stood next to his friend at the entrance of the hospital wing. He knew that Madame Pomfrey hated it when Remus's friends were present while he was being healed (she was well aware they knew of his condition, though not of the role they normally played) but at that point he frankly did not care. James had been so long absent from the werewolf's life he was unwilling to part with him for even a minute currently.

Remus pushed the door open, the matron rushing towards him as he entered. There were no other patients present in the room, as luck would have it. She looked at James, raising her eyebrows. He swore he saw a smile flash onto her face, if only for a moment.

They were led to room in the back of the hospital wing. The room, once a large closet, had since been designated to be the private room in which Remus could be healed out of sight of other visitors. The Marauders had spent many breakfasts and lunch-times talking to their battered mate. They would play cards and eat whilst comparing battle scars from the previous night. It became sort of competition, who had the most injuries. Remus almost always had the lead.

James sat in one of the chairs left lying about, while Remus lay down in the cot. He looked away out of courtesy as his friend removed his clothes to be healed. The matron did not comment on his lack of change of clothes, as was the norm. When Remus was re-clothed and force-fed some disgusting potions, the matron left the two teenagers alone.

Remus made a face and clutched at his abdomen. Recognizing this as a signal, James grabbed a pail that was on its side in the corner of the room. He tossed his friend and Remus proceeded to vomit loudly inside it. It was set down and James vanished the substance before its scent could fill the small room. "Thanks," said Remus weakly.

James waved off his thanks. The two sat and discussed any number of things, from pranks that James had planned before his absence and intended to stage soon, to the latest gossip about the Hufflepuffs (Davey Gudgeon, fifth-year, was now dating a Slytherin seventh-year. Who had dated his best mate previously, no less). They talked and laughed (Remus occasionally vomited) and did not realize how much time had passed until Peter Pettigrew showed up at the door of Remus's room.

"Padfoot is getting you something from the kitchens– What are you doing here?" he asked James in a hard voice. He had changed from his dirty clothes, but still had scratches about his eyes, likely from being tossed around in the moon–time mischief.

"I'm here for Moony," James said, at the same time Remus cut in, "It's fine, Wormtail."

Peter looked confused and irritated. "How is it fine? He can't be here, not when he hasn't been there for you." The emphasis of those words were not lost on the two seventh-years.

"I know I haven't. Will you allow me to explain?" James asked.

"Fine."

He sighed. "I wish I had been there, Wormtail." The shorter boy did not give any outright glare at being addressed thus by him and he took it as a good sign. "It killed me to lose him, Pete. I went a bit mad. I didn't mean to ignore you all, it just happened. When it did, I saw it as a way out of pain, because I was so convinced I'd lose you to the war. I tried to force myself into not caring. Tried to force you lot into hating me. Hoped it would be less trouble on all of us to lose each other that way. I was being stupid. But I reckon we should be friends again anyway, because we really might die and when else will we get a chance?"

"That's the shittiest plan I've ever heard," said Peter.

"Yeah, not the best move on my part." said James with a grimace. "I promise to run all future shitty plans by you before carrying them out. Mates?" He held out a hand tentatively.

"Mates," agreed Peter, shaking the extended hand firmly. "You pull a stunt like that again and I'll hex your fluffy little tail off." he cautioned.

"Noted, Wormtail." replied James with a grin.

Someone began to speak on the other side of the door. "The house elves seem to think there's about ten werewolves up here to feed, the amount they've given me. Not to worry, Wormtail and I can sacrifice our appetites for you, because we're selfless like that." Sirius opened the door with his foot and nearly dropped the food when saw the room's inhabitants.

"Sirius." James said.

The long–haired Gryffindor placed the food down on a table at Remus's bedside. He then exited the room without sparing the other adolescent another glance.

James rose from his seat and followed the seventh-year determinedly. Sirius walked straight through the hospital wing and down several corridors, James on his heel. "Sirius," he called again, willing the male to turn around. "Listen to me, please."

"No." The answer was terse, but it was better than silence.

"Sirius I–"

"Fuck off, Potter." bit out Sirius venomously. Perhaps it wasn't better than silence after all.

James buried his hands in his hair, wanting to tear it out in frustration. "Merlin, all I'm trying to do is get you to hear me out. We've always heard each other out, even after the Snape incident. The others heard me out. Is that really so much to ask?" he demanded angrily.

Grey eyes flashed with a spark of rage. "So much to ask?" asked the other with a deadly sort of calm. "So much to ask? Yes, it is so much to ask. Did you hear me out any of the times I've tried to talk to you since September? I lost a father, too, a better one than I ever got a chance to have. Then I lost a brother. So please forgive me if I'm not as damn noble as you or Remus or Peter."

The words struck James as intended. He flinched, feeling guilt and grief flood him. Still, he continued to attempt to reason with his best friend (or former best friend at least). "I just want to–"

"I don't care what you want to do, Potter. You and Remus and Peter can do what you want, I couldn't care less."

"Shut up." James snapped, irritation rising once more. "You're lying, you do care. I've tried not caring, it doesn't work. You may hate me, but don't you dare lie to me and say this doesn't matter to you. Since it does matter, I'm going to say something and you're going to fucking listen!" he shouted. It dawned vaguely about James that this corridor was not the best place to stage this argument, but they were both too far into it to stop.

"I DON'T HAVE TO LISTEN TO ANYTHING YOU SAY!" Sirius exploded in a booming voice. "If you cared half as much as you claim you did, you wouldn't have bloody gone and pretended we didn't exist in the first place. I know what it feels like to lose someone! I know it's one of the worst feelings I've ever known. But you went and chose to abandon your friends, to abandon the people you had left you in your life. You didn't care enough to listen to me when I tried to talk to you. Why should I listen to you after that?"

"BECAUSE I'M YOUR BEST MATE, IDIOT!" James cried at the top of his lungs. "I was scared and stupid and wanted to be alone. I know I shouldn't have done it and I don't have a legitimate excuse! I was just so fucking terrified to lose you that I pushed you away. I wanted you to hate me; I wanted you to not care about me. I wanted to not care about you either, but I couldn't because you're my best mate and so I shut all my feelings out. I'm tired of doing that, I'm tired of fighting with you and I'm sick and tired of everyone dying. I don't want to die with you hating me!" His voice was strangled and he felt unfamiliar moisture well up in his eyes. He felt shaky and explosive and truthfully, alive. This was living: pain, grief, rage, hope. Even if he did in the war, he was living now and that was what mattered. Still, his knees were shaking and his vision was blurring from the blasted moisture and so he shut his eyes to regain some calm.

His eyes flew open instinctively when a fist met the side of his face, striking him in the eye. Sirius had punched him. Already having been teetering, James was knocked off his feet by the blow. He heard a painful crack as his head hit the stone.

Sirius stood above him, right hand still clenched in a fist, looking down at James. "I don't hate you," he said.

"Your fists seem to contradict you," James replied with a hoarse chuckle.

"I don't hate you," Sirius repeated. "Though I am having a hard time finding a reason not to keep duffing you up."

"Gryffindors don't fight like that. Plus, if I do die, I'd rather it be because I was defending my best mate from Death Eaters rather than from the painful concussion I'm going to develop." James said, voice muffled against the stone. He felt more moisture, but not from his eyes. He was bleeding, he registered, somewhere in his mind.

Sirius responded by kicking James in the stomach. James gasped involuntarily in pain. Sirius raised an eyebrow, but held out a hand to help him up. "You're stupid, James. But I'm not stupid enough to hate you for it. I'm done beating the shit out of you."

James took his hand and pulled himself up. "I should hope so." he muttered, gingerly touching the side of his face and wincing when his hand pulled away red. "I could've taken you, had I not been indisposed, you realize."

"'Could not."

"'Could so. Watch," James said, and punched Sirius in the stomach. His companion doubled–over.

Sirius winced, straightening up. "Cheap shot. Full moon was last night. In a real fight, I'd have you down in two seconds flat." he boasted, looking at James challengingly.

"Fisticuffs tomorrow at dawn?" suggested James with a smirk.

"Dusk. I'm not a morning person. Remus will be my second."

"I could work that to my advantage. Though he's not as agile, Pete's got less injuries to contend with. Also, he's quite good at taking a hit. Our side will defeat you without difficulty."

"...Good to have you back, mate."

"Oi, Evans."

On a Wednesday morning in the Great Hall, surrounded by the Gryffindor lot once more, James Potter called out to Lily Evans. She turned to him questioningly, some distance away from his place at the table. She smiled when she saw who had called her, but still looked bemused. He grinned at her widely and pointed a finger towards the ceiling.

The enchanted ceiling of Hogwarts' eating hall reflected the weather outside. On this day, the sky was clear and the sun was bright. James saw Lily continue to be puzzled by his gesture. He smiled and dropped his fork, signaling to the others to commence.

Peter, on cue, keeled over and began to wail. This drew much attention from the rest of the Great Hall. Remus stood and loudly bemoaned the imminent loss of his close friend, while James and Sirius drew their wands stealthily under the table. Immediately, the illusion on the ceiling began to cloud over. Those who were not staring at the display going on between the other two Marauders looked up in confusion. Rain began to fall from the ceiling.

Normally used to rain as an illusion, the students grew more confused as they felt began to get wet. But this was no normal rain. Each drop was brilliantly multicoloured, and soon every individual in the Great Hall was covered in splashes of bright hues. First-years squealed, while others laughed or rolled their eyes. If one were to look towards the Slytherin table, they would see that there was little variation in their colour scheme. Only two colours had hit them: red and gold.

A thin-lipped Professor McGonagall marched towards the Gryffindors. The effect was somewhat lost, as her lips were a shimmering blue. Nevertheless, silence fell over their table. "Who is responsible for this?" she demanded. No one spoke up. Her eyes rested hesitantly on the Marauders, as if unsure they were able to return to their former level of mischief. Peter, who was still lying on the ground, snorted. Remus gave a small chuckle afterwards. This was all it took to set them off.

James, Sirius, Remus and Peter were all guffawing loudly, unable to control themselves. They too, had been hit by their raindrops. James himself was only able to see McGonagall looking over his technicolor glasses. "Detention. This Saturday, Potter, Black, Lupin, Pettigrew." McGonagall sighed, but James secretly thought she was hiding a smile. She went back to her seat at the professors' table.

The Marauders rose and gave an extravagant bow, which was met by applause from most of the hall. James even saw Professor Dumbledore clapping, but a look from McGonagall made him stop and settle for smiling. "It seems a few of our friends have grown tired of our colour scheme," announced Dumbledore with a broad smile. "Unfortunately, such decisions must be discussed with the school board. So I must ask the professors and house prefects to help us meet the dress code once again."

"No need, Professor," called Sirius from his seat. He and James pointed their wands up once more, not bothering to hide them. Rain poured down once more, and soon everyone had normal, if a little soggy, robes.

Breakfast continued on and students began to disperse for their classes. Peter, Remus and Sirius began to exit the hall as well and looked at James curiously as he lingered behind. He sent them a wink and nodded his head towards the redhead still finishing up her eggs. They understood and left for Potions, their first class of the day.

"Evans," called James playfully, standing beside her when she arose.

"Potter," responded Lily in the same tone.

"Go out with me?" he asked. He was nervous, but tried not to let it show in his voice. He hadn't asked such a question in months and honestly still wasn't sure if he had been dreaming her confession nearly a week prior. He ruffled his hair, walking with her as she began to move forward.

Lily smirked, linking her arm with his as they walked out of the great hall. "I'd rather go out with the Giant Squid," she teased. There was a lightness in her tone that told him her refusal was only playful. He felt the hope that was now his constant friend spread from his head to his fingertips.

"I hear he's busy this weekend. Gone and run off with a mermaid."

"I'm quite devastated. And here I was thinking he was my one true love. However will I recover?" Lily asked in a woeful tone. She removed her arm from his and buried her face in her hands in mock agony.

"First loves are always the hardest to get over. But I do hear Madame Rosmerta's butterbeers are a lovely cure for heartbreak." he said solemnly, nodding his head in feigned sympathy. He wrapped an arm around her.

She lifted her head. "I suppose you'll have to buy me one when we go to Hogsmeade then, won't you?"

James grinned. "I suppose so." They smiled at one another, when James recalled the question that had brought him back to where he was. "Do you think I'm a man now, Lily Evans?"

"You weren't when you asked the first time, being honest. You were boy forcing himself to be a man. I think a man realizes he doesn't always have to be mature, but owns up to his mistakes." She looked at him with what seemed to be pride in her expression. "I missed you, James." Lily confessed, leaning against his side.

James held his arm around her tighter. "I won't be going anywhere."

A/N: I'm just a big ol' re-doer, aren't I? I like it better now, though, so I hope you do too. The main inspiration I had to finish this was the fact that Harry Potter the Deathly Hallows Part 2 is coming out in several days. (Midnight showing anyone one? I am!) Consider this a present for the end of a wonderful series. Disclaim.