Gryffindors' Bet

Boys sit in their dormitory, when James comes back from Quidditch practice. With a box in his hands, a gift wrapped in red and gold satin bows.

"James? You have an admirer?" Peter asks, getting up instantly, after noticing the box. James can see his friend being curious from the way his eyes widen, body leans forward and gaze focuses on neat packing. When James looks at Remus, he seems to be curious as well, though, the only sign of it, is the subtle smile.

"Interesting day to give someone a gift," Remus comments, and James looks at him questioningly. "I meant it's not. It's a day as usual, and in a month there is Christmas," Remus explains with a sigh, making both James and probably himself, too, uncomfortable. "So it's unusual to give someone something, now, when in a month there will be a better occasion."

"I understand," James huffs a laugh. Remus raises his eyebrows.

"Well, tell us from who is it," Peter interrupts, excited. James beams at him.

"You're curious, aren't you?" he asks.

"Of course I am!"

"You're too, right?" James asks Remus.

Remus looks a little irritated, but James forgives him, because only a day passed since the last full moon. He smiles wildly, places the box on the table and looks at Peter.

"I've got no idea who is it from," James grins.

Peter looks confused, and Remus laughs.

"So you just wanted to keep us in suspense?" Remus asks with a smile, that makes James break into an ear-to-ear grin.

"And for your information, I also don't know who is it for," James announces.

Peter jumps from his bed instantly.

"So it was in front of our room?"

"That's where I found it."

"Awesome," Peter says and comes closer to the box. He looks like he's examining it, fully immersed in the role of some kind of detective. He probably searches for any kind of information, but James watched the item from all sides, and found nothing. It's from someone, who didn't want their identity to be known. "It has Gryffindor colours, I like it. Should we open it, then?"

"Let's do it," James agrees, and wants to pull the bow.

"Wait," Remus stops him. James and Peter, both halt and look at their friend. "What if it's cursed?"

James finds the question actually sensible, especially after making an enemy of Mulciber and having half Slytherin hating them just because they exist, and the other half, because they've started to associate themselves with the Blacks. He gives the box a long, penetrating look.

"So what do we do?"

"Maybe we shouldn't open it where we sleep?" Peter suggests.

James thinks if it's possible to even place the cursed gift here, where only Gryffindors can enter. Then again, there are multiple ways to enter other Houses common rooms and dorms, so leaving the possibility of the gift being cursed is reasonable. Does James truly believe the gift is hexed in any way, though? Maybe it's an intrusive thought, but James just take a bow between his fingers and pulls. Peter looks like he could have a heart attack, he is all pale and scared, and Remus raises his eyebrows, even him showing a surprise on his face.

Nothing happens, though. The bow is no longer holding the wrapping, so it falls. Inside the package seems to be three small boxes of chocolate. James recognizes it instantly, because it's Remus' favourite. It's the chocolate that James and Peter bought recently as for Remus' full moon's remedy, and the one they're always buying to make their friend feel better. He, and Peter, direct their gazes at Remus, who raises his hands.

"You don't know if it's for me," Remus disagrees, before boys could say otherwise.

"It's your favourite, though," Peter points out.

James watches Remus with something, that, he supposes, bears a hint of sadness, since it's genuinely discouraging seeing his friend not believing in himself. James loves Remus. As much as he loves himself, and he sometimes feels letting Remus feel down, is like letting down himself. Remus is ingenious. He is one of the best people in the world, and for someone like that to feel worthless or inadequate? It's an absurd. It's paradoxical, almost.

James wishes he could show Remus how he is perceived, not only how he perceives himself.

Because that's almost always the case with people.

They feel the worst, but if they weren't the way they are, they would probably still feel the same.

It's not their personality or their appearance that they usually hate. It's mostly themselves as their own self, that they have something against. Well, it can differ for different people. James just sees Remus and notices how he hates himself, but doesn't at the same time. He can see, that Remus likes his own jokes, that he can be proud of himself, when he achieves something. It gets harder, though, because for Remus there are always things he could say, and he did not, or things he could achieve, but didn't manage to. It's a vicious circle, in which Remus is the vicious one. The assailant and the victim at the same time.

James loves to think it's a matter of perspective, because who wouldn't want to be Remus Lupin?

Not many people, beside Remus Lupin, himself.

But what can one James Potter do to make Remus Lupin feel better? Only love him for them both, and try to show him he is magnificent. Because he is, and there are so many people who doubt themselves, when they are truly brilliant and extraordinary.

The problem is, it's a long process to believe in oneself. To believe, that you're good, that you're enough. That you are equal to other people. It requires strength, and sometimes even courage. Sometimes even these aren't enough. But it's a process. James can see how Remus has his better and worse moments, and he hopes he'll see the time, when Remus' weariness will be less frequent than his confidence.

"I actually saw someone, who seemed to follow me," Remus says, a bit thoughtful.

James clasps his hands. "See?"

"But it was only once, and a long time ago. I believe it was Mulciber, actually."

"Mulciber would give you chocolate?" Peter asks dubiously. James bursts out laughing.

"Mate," he says to him. "You think why would Mulciber follow Remus? To hug him?"

Peter's angry glare is hard to miss.

"Well, I doubt it's for me," Remus shrugs. "The only possibility is Mulciber, and I doubt his skills in romance."

James sits next to Remus to ruffle his hair.

"Get used to the thought you have a secret admirer, Moony."

"Fat chance."

"How is it fat?" James argues. "You're handsome, playful, funny, kind, empathetic, smart, intelligent," James counts on his fingers. "You're brave, but not stupid, you're quick, skilful-"

"Shut it, James."

"Compassionate, thoughtful," James continues. "Ambitious, but not too ambitious," he keeps counting, but Remus has definitely enough, because he gets up and leaves the room. James, obviously, follows him. "Knowledgeable, loyal, with great morals," James says all the way through Gryffindor common room, and even after they leave it, through the halls. "A dog person, an intellectual, amazing teacher, an irreplaceable friend, a-"

"James, stop it," Remus turns around suddenly, making James bump into him. He sends Remus a shy, tentative smile, getting a sigh in return.

"I love you?" James tries.

Remus looks at him, at first slightly annoyed, but then his shoulders relax, and in his eyes appear the fondness, that James was waiting for.

"I know, I'm sorry."

James smiles of pure joy. "See? You don't even have a problem with saying sorry. I'm actually starting to believe you're perfect. Can a person be perfect?"

Remus lightly punches him in the arm as a playful gesture.

"Who is perfect?" a voice makes them jump. When James turns around to see the source, his lips curls into a happy smile. He isn't surprised to see Sirius, since Remus' gaze speaks for itself. He saw in Remus who was standing behind him. He knew it, before his ears registered the voice. James saw eyes warm like an embrace and knew. But when he turns around and sees Sirius, he is surprised to see him a bit guarded, in a shy kind of way. Like he wants to be included in the conversation and he knows he has the right, but still isn't sure how to act in a new situation. James can see the ambivalence in Sirius' posture, like his mixed feelings are writtten in a way he stands. It's a progress, though. Sirius is trying, Sirius is getting closer to them and isn't afraid of approaching them anymore. Despite feeling so cautious and presumably having so many reservations. 

"Remus," James answers the same time, Remus says something different.

"No one is."

Sirius raises his eyebrows. "Why is Remus perfect?"

James scoffs. "Why is it even a question? Can you tell me one of Remus' flaws?" He asks, and waits for the answer. Sirius opens his mouth and closes it, then furrows his eyebrows, looking genuinely puzzled. It proves James point, and he is certain his friend also notices his win.

"Oh, seriously," Remus rolls his eyes and wants to walk away, but James grabs his wrist, too pleased with himself, to let go.

"Now, I'll have to look for Sirius every time you're in your self-deprecating mood," James states bravely. Sirius, though, looks even more perplexed.

"You're disregarding yourself?" he asks Remus, his confused expression drawing Remus' attention. 

"He is," James answers, because he isn't sure what would his friend answer.

"I'm not disregarding myself. I'm just realistic" Remus claims. "I don't need your sympathy, so you can stop acting like I'm the crazy one, here."

James feels flabbergasted for a bit, until he remembers it's normal for Remus to behave as if everyone is sparing him some fake compliments for the sake of his well-being. Sometimes compliments work, sometimes they're not. James really, really dislikes the moments of denial.

Sirius watches Remus a long while, leaving them all in silence, before he turns to James. It makes his heart skip a beat. He can see it in Sirius eyes, in his stance. Sirius is on James' side. He can feel the connection between them. Connection in appreciating Remus Lupin. 

"How?" Sirius asks, and though Remus furrows his eyebrows, James understands. How someone like Remus could think of himself lowly? How could he underestimate himself? How is he shy with compliments or doesn't believe them truly? How, how, how?

It's Remus Lupin, isn't it?

So James just shrugs. "I guess we have to admire him for him."

Sirius shakes his head slowly and rubs his eyes with the fingers of one hand. "And here I came, thinking James Potter was telling about how he is perfect."

"Am I not, though?" James beams. Sirius' lips curls into a small, serene smile. It's an achievement for James.

What James doesn't add, though, is that if he would be perfect, he would be able to make his friend feel better about himself. That he would be enough for Remus to believe in himself.

But he isn't.

So the answer is simple.

Still, he doesn't want to stop. He doesn't have to be perfect, to try to make his friends smile. He made Sirius smile, just a moment ago. 

"Why the sudden chat about being perfect, though?" Sirius asks. He is playing with his fingers, like he doesn't know what to do with his hands, and seems weirdly shy in James' eyes. The realization strikes again, when their eyes meet, and James notices how tentative Sirius' behaviour is, once more.

It must be difficult for him, to strike up a conversation, but it's a delight for James to see him trying.

"Remus received chocolate from a secret admirer," James says jolly. It's only after he sees the expression on Sirius face, that he realizes, he shouldn't have been so happy about it.

"We don't know, who is it for," Remus says, his lips thin, undeniably annoyed. "And we don't even know if it's an admirer. It could be anyone. Maybe someone wanted to make our day better or just had spare chocolate they wanted to share."

"Random chocolate?" Sirius asks apparently annoyed. "Sure, it's every day that we receive random gifts from strangers. How stupid of me, I haven't searched for my daily gift, yet."

Remus' look of disbelief says it all, but Sirius' eyes are as cold as ice, like their perspectives are too different to make them comply. Remus stands tall, though, giving Sirius a look of unwavering determination.

"I'm going to ask all of our Gryffindor friends to find out, who gave us the chocolate."

James should have expected this turn of events, but instead of following pacing Remus, he stays with Sirius, whose eyes linger on Remus, as if he couldn't tear his gaze away.

James forgets he shouldn't touch Sirius when he's not completely aware, so he gives him a playful tap on the back, which results in Sirius stilling. What James notices, though, is that Sirius was all tense, even without James' touch. He was tense, because of Remus.

"We can go to Charms classroom, since it'll be starting in like half an hour, and we're already together?" James suggests, mostly to distract Sirius' attention from the sudden tap on the back.

"We're going together, but only because I was going this way, myself."

James stifles his laugh, and instead smiles widely.

"Obviously mate. By the way, have you done the assignment?"

---

While sitting on the Charms, James is unusually quiet. He isn't chatting to Sirius, he's not fidgeting as much as usual. He is not beaming in every direction. James is focused. He isn't certain from where will it come, the thing he looks for, but it will, for sure. So James looks around, for half a lesson, before, with a sigh of frustration, he sits in his place, with head finally facing forward.

"Mate, do you have some neck problem?" Sirius asks, and James flashes a playful, secretive smirk. He knows he isn't really subtle about looking around, but the person he's looking for, won't be paying him any attention. Said person will be looking only at Remus.

"I'm watching Remus and those who attend the class," James explains. "I'm looking for Remus' secret admirer."

Sirius' body stiffens for a few seconds, before he starts to tap his fingers nervously on the table, unable to stay still. James turns from Sirius, feeling a bit too smug for his own good, but too content to actually do something about it. James starts to make notes, just to have something written, and tries to pretend he doesn't see how Sirius suddenly and not-so-subtly takes peeks around.

It's funny to observe Sirius in his half-denial state, when he spies around and then act like he did nothing of the sort. James can imagine Sirius tries to convince himself, that he doesn't care, but his curiosity is stronger than his will to act nonchalantly. Or maybe he just thinks he's imperceptible about it.

It's fun, though. James starts to understand Remus' urge to tease Sirius, since his reactions are too amusing. James forgets not to look at Sirius, remembering it only after Sirius' stare pierces through him, as if searching for the answer of his sudden interest in him. James shrugs nonchalantly, his confident grin growing on his face.

"Do what you've been doing, I didn't want to interrupt," James says. "Give me a clue, though, after you discover who Remus' secret admirer is."

Sirius looks like he wants to strangle James, and doesn't even want to keep it a secret.

"I know where you sleep, Potter."

"I know that you know," James laughs, though he had no idea a few seconds ago. He doesn't even question how Sirius knows. Then a thought suddenly comes to his mind. "Wait, you weren't the one, who placed Remus' gift in front of our room, right?"

Sirius' lips curls into a scowl of frustration, but instead of answering James, he apparently decides to focus on the lesson. James is a little disappointed, but only because he likes talking to Sirius, and he just threw his chance in the bin.

James taps the desk in front of Sirius to get his attention.

"I was only kidding, Sirius. Let's not be strangers, yeah? I really like you."

Sirius doesn't spare James a glance, but the corners of his lips curls up slightly, before they fall again.

It's enough for James. The mood, between them, doesn't really change until the end of the class. The silence between them isn't uncomfortable, though. Maybe it's because of James' quiet humming or Sirius' softly tapping on the desk in the rhythm of the hums.

It's comforting. It's almost cosy. Like they're friends, who are afraid of admitting they can be close to each other. James loves this. He thinks he could easily love Sirius.

He will. James realizes, while looking at Remus. He will love Sirius, because there is no chance, that Sirius will run away from their group in the future.

This thought is probably the reason why James talks constantly about Sirius, while chatting with Regulus. It's easy, since they are brothers and James can praise Sirius however much he wants to, not omitting information about their matching energy or cute sides of the older Black. It's nice to talk about Sirius to someone, who doesn't have enough of it, yet. So James prattle on about Sirius to Regulus, without really stopping. He found him on his way to the dorm, and instead of going back, he just joined him on the stroll.

James doesn't feel the pressure of Regulus' angry or blank looks, but it's probably because he got used to them. So it's only after Regulus snaps, that James realizes, he shouldn't have talked about Sirius so much to his brother. It was stronger than him, though, and he really hasn't been expecting Regulus to mind it. Especially since Regulus looks like he minds James a lot, even without him talking about his older brother.

James understands there are more layers of Regulus' annoyance, when he snaps.

"What are you even doing with me, when all you want is to be with my brother?" he asks, and James is confused and, he must admit, a little scared of Regulus. It's a new feeling, an unexpected one. It must show on his face, because Regulus' scowl fades away, and his gaze soften.

"I'm sorry, I didn't expect you to mind," James apologises.

Regulus quirks his eyebrow. "You surely act like an only child."

"Well, I haven't met anyone worthy of calling them my brother or sister," James says proudly.

Regulus rolls his eyes. "Of course, you would think you can choose yourself a sibling."

"Oh, Regulus Black…" James starts dramatically. "You don't know, that your family is not a blood, but a feeling?"

The silence after these words isn't uncomfortable, but in some senses, it is tense. Like no one is angry, the words fell, but they make a little barrier of sentences that are about to be said, but only in mind. The silence to think, not to talk. This moment, though, the moment of an important silence, is interrupted, by no one else, but Regulus' family.

The dark, curly hair looks oddly normal in the unusually sunny surroundings. James must admit, that even despite the happy setting, Bellatrix Black gives him chills. He thinks it's probably the first time he finds himself so close to her. Or to all the Black sisters. Narcissa and Andromeda are waiting near, just standing there, probably waiting for their sister. Narcissa looks bored, but Andromeda watches James with strange curiosity, that James isn't used to.

"Regulus," Bellatrix welcomes her cousin with a nod. Regulus returns the gesture, and she sighs. "I don't have much time, now. I just wanted to remind you, that you're the Black."

Regulus looks at his cousin with unwavering calmness. "I know Bella. I know who I am."

James suddenly feels genuinely uncomfortable. Like he shouldn't hear this. Or maybe he just doesn't want to. Because it sounds like a preview of something he doesn't want to experience. A Black? Who is a Black? Someone who doesn't associate himself with the like of a Potter. It makes James anxious and unsure. Stressed out. Why Regulus isn't avoiding James like Sirius did towards Remus? Why he is just agreeing with his cousin, saying, he is aware of who he is?

But then it hits James.

Wasn't he calling Regulus by his name all this time? Wasn't he reminding him, himself, that he is, indeed, Regulus Black?

After Bellatrix walks away, not missing out the opportunity to glance at James with a glint of malice, he looks at Regulus, not knowing what to say. Regulus watches him, and a sad realization shadows his face. James feels uncomfortable, again, because he feels as if not Bellatrix made Regulus sad, but him. The fact that he must have shown his uneasiness, and Regulus, of course, saw it. It's like the boy has superhuman ability to read from James' body and interpret everything correctly. It makes James sorry, but he can't say anything, not wanting to make things worse. Would Regulus be downhearted, though? Because of James' discomfort after meeting Bellatrix?

Does Regulus think he feels uncomfortable around the Blacks?

"I believe, it's my-"

"Regulus," James cuts in. It's unexpectedly intimate to call Regulus without adding his surname. James feels the warmth creeping up his neck and hopes he only imagines the feeling of the warmth on his cheeks. "We will see each other later, won't we?"

Regulus smiles. A little twitch of his lips, but it's a smile same as every other. James can't help himself, but laugh and stretch his mouth into a broad, toothy smile. It's Regulus' intense stare, that reassures James, that everything is alright.

"Probably. If our paths cross," Regulus says, and James waves him goodbye. He watches him walk away, and when Regulus disappears from his sight, he goes in his own direction. It's a calm stroll from the outside to the inside of the castle, until James hears an unfamiliar voice. He can't hear it correctly, but it's something about Gryffshits and Slytherins never to be friends, so it's an instinct, really, to turn the way the voice came from.

It's because James finds it unreasonable and unjust. It's because of opinions like that, said in a strong and not allowing any objections voice, that wizarding world has problems with changing. It's about stubbornness and not letting different points of view into your sight. It's the mocking laughter that follows James, because he is a Gryffindor, who tries to make friends with someone he supposedly shouldn't.

"Why?" James turns to the witch, who laughed at him.

She looks surprised. James is sure, she hasn't expected anyone to actually listen to her. She just wanted to tell something mean, to make her stance clear, but without responsibility. Why would she tell words that are hurtful, not considering her words have a meaning? Why people do things out of spite? Are they jealous? Are they close-minded? Are they insecure themselves?

The witch ignores him, trying to act like nothing happened, but James suddenly hates the fact that being anonymous let wizards say all the spiteful words without facing the consequences. You can't ignore what you find wrongful. You can't let the wrong ones being anonymous.

"Why would you say Slytherins can't make friends with Gryffindors?" James asks again, standing before the witch, looking down at her.

"Well, of course they shouldn't," she rolls her eyes at him. The wizard next to her snickers, as if she told something smart or sharp-witted.

"Why?" James asks, again, because he truly wants to find the answer behind all these mean actions, all these malicious stereotypes, behind hateful words.

"Because Gryffindors are simply worse, piss off."

It's not often that James looks blankly at someone, but now he feels there is no other expression he could make. If that's how Regulus feels, every time he makes his blank face, James should reconsider opening his mouth sometimes.

"Why though?"

The girl seems a bit angry, but James can be stubborn, if he only wants to. Now, he knows it's the time to stand his ground, so there's no stopping him. It's his choice to do something, when he needs to. And he is a Gryffindor, and a proud one. If he wants answers, he will try to get them, even if it needs a bit of courage.

"Why not?" she tries with a counterquestions, but it's a wrong move. Not a clever one, because if you want to argue, you have to try it with questions your opponent has no answers to.

"Why not? Because we're equals. Because every Gryffindor breaths in the same air the Slytherin breaths. Because we're all a person. Every one is different, but we're the same with all of us being different. Because our hearts beat, our eyes meet others eyes, our mouths talk about the same topics among our own friends. Because we all love the same and hate the same. We all are living beings deserving respect. When I hurt you, you're hurt the same as when you hurt me, I'm hurt. We all bleed. We all need warmth and affection to survive, because we're all born in similar ways, because we are all wizards despite being in different houses. It's actually only the name of the House that separates us."

"You say so, but there's a reason we all got into different Houses."

"And that is?" James asks.

"That you are supposed to have some hero complex. You want to be perceived as oh, so brave and courageous, oh so admired. You want to be better than anyone else. We, Slytherins, are just better without showing it at every turn."

"We value bravery, but we're not show-offs," James says with furrowed eyebrows. Then he realizes he made a mistake, and tries to repair it. That's not the question he is supposed to ask. "But how are Slytherin better than other Houses?"

"We have more purebloods, and we're not acting like children. We're smarter, and less obnoxious. We've got important people, and we've got ambition instead of stupidity."

"You were educated to think this way," James crosses his arms, but lets them fall a moment later, to not look… obnoxious. "Some Slytherins just want to live the normal life."

"Some nutcases, sure do," the witch scoffs, and looks away to meet her friend's gaze, just to ignore James.

"You find them nut, but why are they really? Because they have different opinion than you? Because no one can be different than you? Are you so big-headed or so close-minded?" James puts a question, waiting for an answer, but no one is even looking at him. The emotions he felt a moment ago, gets suppressed a little, since James feels a bit stupid talking to the statues, instead of living beings. "So what, you don't have an answer, that's why you act like I'm not here? That's the smartness you talked about?"

The witch looks at James sharply. "It's smart to ignore the stupid one."

"Yes, I understand why I'm not being the smart one, now," James narrows his eyes. "But it's smarter to try to get an answer, even from someone, who doesn't have one, because then you can learn about a person quite a bit."

"Oh, just look at you. You're from a pureblood family, but there's nothing pure about you. You stay close to filthy Mudbloods as if they're equal, and you act as if you're not filthy as much as them now."

"Is it money, then?" James tries to get to the point. "Is that money that you believe makes you better? Coming from an old, traditional, pureblood family with a lot of wealth?"

"That surely sounds better than being your stained Lupin, right?"

"But you're as stained as him, then. As me. As most of us. Since you have no money, only this much amount that belongs to your parents."

"Wow," the witch starts to laugh. "It's such a waste of time talking to you," she says and stands up. After gesturing to her friend to follow her, they walk away, being followed by James' puzzled gaze.

At this point, he can't even tell what is his question. Because if Slytherins don't understand the problem, how can they see the solution?

And if someone as important as Regulus or Sirius spending time with Gryffindors doesn't make any changes, what can? Is it even possible? Can James make them see what the problem is about? Will he have to befriend half of the Slytherin to make them realize they're taught wrong? That there is a life for them to live, dreams to long for, love to experience and amazement to experience?

How to make wizards change?

Does James have to change the world to make changes in people, or he has to start from small things to change the bigger ones? James feels angry and confused, and powerless. He is weak, now, exposed and unprotected.

He needs a hug, but there is no Euphemia and Fleamont to hug it better.

---

Peter sits in the dormitory room, trying to come up with an answer for Divination homework, when the door opens, and Remus comes in. He looks alright. Tired, yes, but he copes well, with the aftermath of the full moon and that makes Peter believe the transformation is something possible to get used to. It's not, though. He knows it isn't, and it's Remus, who is strong enough, to make it look like it's doable. Remus notices Peter's staring at him, and quirks his eyebrow.

"Have you seen James? He took the map," Remus asks, coming near his bed and searching for something. James was here, but only to take something and leave after. Peter wants to answer, but doesn't have a chance, because Remus looks at him, again. "Why do I feel like I'm the one who always is looking for someone?"

Peter scoffs. "James is plotting something with your Black boy."

Remus appears to be surprised. "With Sirius?"

Peter raises his eyebrows, but doesn't comment on Remus admitting Sirius is his Black boy.

"Yeah, I've heard him muttering 'Sirius Black, Sirius Black' under his nose," Peter shrugs. "I guess you have a rival, now."

Remus rolls his eyes.

"Rival, my arse," he says, but sits on the bed with a pensive look on his face. Peter focuses back on his assignment, but is interrupted, by Remus' shadow covering his books. Peter looks up and meet Remus' gaze. "And you?" Remus asks, looking down at what Peter is doing. "How are you? After all this Black thing, we've been spending less time together."

Peter can be coloured surprised, but mostly just feels warm, just to be asked how is he doing. He nods.

"Good, I guess?" Peter answers, lowering his gaze on the homework that makes him question the quality of his wellbeing. Remus sits down, probably to be on the same eyes level. Peter meets his gaze. "Life is going on, I like the calmness, now."

Remus laughs. "Yes, no pranks, no detentions, no stripping of House points…"

"Yeah…" Peter admits, the silence follows his words.

It's a weird state of being, when you're used to the chaos, and suddenly you get the tranquillity you wanted, but it's just… too quiet. You understand it is what you wanted, but not necessarily what you needed. Peter thinks of the old days, when he didn't have to be let alone with his thoughts, and boredom, and nothing else.

"We should do a prank, soon. It's getting pretty boring," Peter admits.

It takes him by surprise, when Remus smiles softly and nods. "Yes, we should."

---

Later, when Peter meets Emmeline, and they want to go their own separate ways, he calls her name. It's an impulse, really. A surge of sudden courage, but needed at the moment, so Peter just let this courage flow in his body, so it's not too late.

Emmeline turns to look at Peter, and he feels as if all the bravery to act is gone, but now, it's too late, to withdraw. Because what could he say, now? Hi, Emmeline. What a beautiful weather is outside?

"Can we talk in private?" Peter asks.

Emmeline looks like she wants to refuse, but sighs and gesture with her head, leading them to the quiet corner of the common room.

"What do want to talk about?"

"I wanted to talk about things you said to me at the beginning of the year…" Peter starts shyly, not really comfortable taking the initiative. It's important, though. He knows it's important, because he gets stressed just by thinking about Emmeline, and what he wants to do? Ignore or avoid her until the end of the year, and then hoping they won't meet in the future? Because she said mean words to him? He hopes talking it out will make him feel better, but if not… If not, he has other friends. He will feel even worse, probably, but wouldn't it be the same if he did nothing?

"No, Peter," Emmeline says with a forceful gaze. "I know what do you want to talk about. I meant it, when I said I don't like you. I want to spend time with my friends, but you're not one of them and I have a right to dislike you. I don't care what do you think about me, but I'm not going to take back my previous words."

Peter is a little too stunned to speak. Not because the words feel harsh, but because they seem to be… right. Why would Peter want to talk with Emmeline, when she had all rights to tell what she wanted to? When she is allowed not to like him?

Why, Peter actually wanted to talk to Emmeline? What made him anxious? Stressed-out? Unhappy? He looks up, and it's only now, that he realizes he looked down, like the scolded child, he feels like recently, when he is around Emmeline.

"I'm…" sorry, Peter wants to say, but something makes him not to. Why is he feeling like he's a scolded child? Is it right? Is it why it was so difficult, to gather his courage for a simple talk? With someone, who he once called a friend? With a girl he felt comfortable around, even when they were bickering, because he believed it was still friendly? What have changed? Why is Emmeline suddenly angry at him? Why aren't they friends anymore?

Peter is too afraid to ask.

But it doesn't change the fact he feels sorry for himself, and it's Emmeline who made him feel so. It's Emmeline, who criticized him, antagonized him, who told him his absence would go unnoticed. Who made him feel like no one cares about him. She said he is only James' and Remus' friend, that he has no character. She made him feel worthless, when he was already feeling so. And Peter ignored her words, by avoiding her as much as he could, but he finally understands what he needs.

He needs her to tell him, she didn't mean it. That he's alright on his own.

But it's not her words that would make him feel his worth. It's only one opinion among tens, and the only one that actually matters is his own. What would it change, if she said it's alright, he doesn't have to feel like an addition? What would it change if she said she actually likes him much, and she was just angry, not in the mood, and Peter was too stubborn to leave her alone? Would it change something? Peter remembers his friends. James and Remus, who have their own lives, so he's not their number one priority, but he shouldn't be. And they still make him feel important, so many times. About Marlene, Lily, Dorcas or Mary, who never change, when they're with him. They act the same way, always. They're supportive, too, and notice small changes in Peter, that even he, sometimes omits. He thinks of Elspeth, who makes him comfortable and weirdly not shy, nor intimidated. Even of Ted and Dromeda. There are so many wizards and witches around him that make him feel alright, sometimes even special. But what does it change? They could tell him all compliments in the world, and that changes something. It makes Peter feel better about himself. But what really matters in the end? It's not what they think about Peter.

It's what Peter thinks about himself.

So how Emmeline's words make Peter feel so wrong?

Because they match with what Peter thinks of himself.

But in the end, the words don't matter, because they wouldn't feel so important if they were completely unmatched with Peter's beliefs.

It's not Emmeline he should defend himself against. It's himself.

"You can dislike me," Peter admits, feeling a bit like crying. "But you shouldn't tell me all these things you told me."

It's an apology, he needs from Emmeline. It's something he deserves to receive. Because having rights to dislike someone, doesn't make it rightful to criticize someone. To do it harshly and hurtful. And seeing the way Emmeline averts his gaze and her facial expression conveys regret, Peter knows he's right. He doesn't add anything, he just waits, not knowing what he should do next, if Emmeline decides not to say anything.

But Emmeline looks up at him, with a guilty expression on her face.

"I'm sorry, I truly am."

And suddenly it's easier. The shoulders don't feel so stiff, the head is lighter, the chest is not tight anymore. Peter can mentally sigh in relief. Because it's true he needed this apology. It makes him feel better, because he has one more reason to believe, he's alright. And that it was worth it. The tension is gone, his thoughts fly more freely, his mind is ready for the next steps.

Peter hopes, getting it off their chests, gave the comfort also to Emmeline.

They say their goodbyes, reconciled in some ways, leaving Peter in a melancholic spirit. It's James, who meets him in this mood, and nudges him. Peter knows that James wants to make him feel better, so he smiles. James watches him, as he always does, and beams radiantly, lighting up his face, making Peter feel happier, too.

"Come, we'll play chess," James says and gets up, to sit down again, but beside the chess board.

"Shall we?" Peter asks, joining James, and they play, and it's comfortable, it's familiar, and it's James.

Peter wins the game, of course, but it doesn't really matter. Because Peter won much more than a simple game of chess.

He wins much more.

---

James Potter has a real skill in finding himself among wizards he has no intention of finding himself among. So in the evening, when he sits, a bit stiff, squeezed in between overactive Barty Crouch Junior and reluctant but amused Evan, he doesn't even question it. It's not even that they don't have much space to sit a little apart from each other, because they have. It's Barty, that said he wants to imprison James a little, and find out how long he survives squeezed between their bodies.

James's survived quite a lot of time, already, but it's all he can manage. Sitting, and being a little uncomfortable. What could he do, though, after Barty said James is so upright, but when it comes to doing an actual thing, he can't?

Of course, he accepts the challenge, however weird it is. But isn't it too weird?

James wonders if Barty just needed a hug. Maybe he wanted to feel the warmth of someone else's body?

He stretch his arm to encircle it around Barty. Barty, who was laughing, at something Evan said, suddenly stops to look at James like he lost his mind.

"Potter, may I know, why are you trying to make a move on me?" he asks calmly.

James looks up at Regulus, just to see him rolling his eyes.

Regulus, of course, is in front of them, because there was no chance, he would comply with Barty's peculiar ideas.

"I'm not though," James answers, but squeezes Barty some more. The way Barty looks at him, is actually amusing, so to tease him more, James tries with a longing smile. Evan huffs a laugh, so James assumes he didn't manage to make his expression natural, but the stunned Barty is a reward enough.

"I think it's the first time I saw Barty so delayed," Regulus says, sounding interested.

It works magic on Barty, though, because the clarity comes back to his eyes, and his lips takes a form of sly, secretive smile with hidden intentions.

"What, Potter, am I your type?" Barty follows, and it makes James weirdly shy.

"No," he answers simply, and seeing the wounded expression on his face, James registers it is fake too late, because he says, "I like boys more composed."

It sparks some interest in Barty.

"You like boys? Composed?"

James knows his cheeks are flood with crimson, and that it's not a subtle blush. He feels oddly safe speaking about liking boys among this group of friends, but it still makes him more insecure, than usually.

"With black hair? Clear eyes? Boys who are attentive, though they can be mean?" Evan joins in.

"Yeah," James agrees, surprised the description really matches his interest, and then he sees Regulus, whose face is almost all red, and realizes his mistake. "I mean it's not that it's my only type, I have a lot of types, like, a really, really various types of types," James rambles embarrassed, making Barty burst out laughing and having the time of his life. Regulus glares at his friend, but Barty isn't intimidated.

"Mate, you're never going to live it down," Barty says, to James, or to Regulus, that's what is not really known, since it's Barty.

"I mean, Regulus could be everyone's type, he's really pretty," James tries to explain, but it seems like he only makes it worse, because Barty is almost choking and Regulus simply gets up and walks away. James wants to do so, too, but Barty grabs his wrist and keeps him close.

This storyline is what James complains about, when he finally is with Remus and Peter after they leave the kitchen with some sweets.

"And I've got no idea, why would Barty tease me about it later. I swear, he starts laughing every time his eyes meet mine," James whines, putting his head on Remus' shoulder, making them move more awkwardly. "And why is that? I'm totally normal with Regulus. I'm the same with him as I'm with all my other friends."

Remus halts, Peter does so, too, but more because it would be odd for him to walk, when both of his friends are still. James' head falls from Remus' shoulder, since he hasn't been expecting the halt, but he quickly raises his head in the vertical position. James wants to look at Remus angrily, but instead, he sees a confused expression on his friend's face, that make him hesitate.

"Prongs," Remus says, in a weirdly serious voice. "If you're looking at me, like you do at Regulus, we have to talk."

Peter bursts out laughing, in a sudden and taken-aback laugh. Remus' lips twitch, but he maintains his solemnity alright. James just stands there, knowing, but not-knowing and searching for an answer. Is it because Regulus is pretty, that James looks differently at him? James blushes with a bashful smile, because he knows, exactly, why Regulus is different from Remus or Peter. He just didn't expect it to be so obvious.

"Regulus is pretty, though," James says, feeling a little lightweight, a bit dainty and kind of jolly, but it's alright. He can feel cheery, right now. It's Regulus they're talking about.

"He is," Remus admits, evidently amused.

Peter comes near them and nudges Remus. "But, we guess, Sirius is prettier?"

Remus hits Peter on the arm with a shadow of a smile on his lips. It's a light punch, a playful exchange during their banter. James likes this atmosphere, because it fills the boys with affection, despite the teasing and potentially offensive jokes. James grins, since he feels giddy and just happy.

What James doesn't know, is that later, when Remus manages to catch Sirius doing something alone, and he joins in, he studies the boy intensely. Remus watches Sirius really carefully, almost admiring him, when Sirius peers at him nervously.

"What are you thinking about?" Sirius asks, and it has a reluctant ring to it. Remus smiles a genuine smile, a little crooked, but still warm and authentic.

"That you're really pretty," Remus says without hesitation, and takes a pleasure in seeing how the fair skin of Sirius' takes the redder shades. How his hands follow his tie to loosen it. How he itches to tell him something, but in the end doesn't. 

Only taking pity in how Sirius averts his eyes.

"Of course," Sirius responds in a quiet voice.

It's Remus' turn to realize, that Sirius believes it's only a joke.

"What? No," Remus rushes with his response. "I'm serious," he tries and understands his bad choice of words. "Well, almost as serious as you are," Remus attempts to joke. And oh, Sirius looks at him, in an expression not yet seen. His face seems neutral, but the eyes.

Oh, the eyes. They have a warm embrace in them, a spark of fire, that matches Remus' Gryffindor tie. The hope, the wish, the trust. It makes Remus' heart burst with an unknown feeling. These eyes makes Remus's soul occupied with another body. It makes all his feelings condensed into only one. 

And Sirius opens his mouth, but closes it, before saying anything. Remus looks at him, the soft feeling he bears in his mind right now, makes him want more, see more, hear more. But Sirius' eyes close, and after he opens them, the spark is gone, or maybe is only flickering somewhere in the background. There is mostly a shadow that means something Remus doesn't understand.

He will, though, because Christmas are coming.