He never gets used to it. The full moon. It starts a week before—Remus goes to bed early, he gets headaches, back aches, loses his appetite. James hates it. Hates that there's nothing he can do, and that everything he says just seems to make things worse. Remus can't stand being fussed over, or when they hover around him. James gets it. Sirius gets it less—which is ironic considering he can be such an antisocial prick when he's in a mood.
On the really bad moons, Remus can't get out of bed. On the better ones he drags himself through his classes. Those days are the most stressful if James is honest, because Remus is so sensitive. He winces at the light, the noise, at being touched, which sends Sirius into overprotective mode and means that James spends the whole day trying to keep the both of them in one piece.
"Pads—Sirius! Come on mate, calm down," James mutters, one arm wrapped around Sirius's middle as he drags him down the hall.
"I'll calm down when McAllen learns to WATCH WHERE THE FUCK HE'S GOING!" Sirius shouts at the quickly retreating back of a Hufflepuff third year.
"Merlin's tits, you wanna try not making me go deaf at the tender age of fifteen?" James is still dragging Sirius along, Peter and Remus up ahead, having not stopped to witness the spectacle that was Black v. McAllen.
"Prick."
"At least you're self-aware."
Sirius scowls at him. "I meant McAllen."
"He was just trying to walk down the hall you bloody maniac."
"He ran straight into Moony!"
James rolls his eyes. "He barely touched him, and it's not as though it was on purpose."
Sirius looks mutinous but when he speaks he isn't angry. Not exactly. "He winced, Prongs—he—" but Sirius's voice drops out, unwilling or unable to finish that thought.
James finds his eyes trailing to the sandy blond head in front of them, "I know."
He doesn't bother pointing out that on days like today Remus winces if you breathe too hard near him. He really ought to stay in the dorm, not that he ever would. He has to be practically catatonic before he'll consider missing class.
"Oh good," the boy in question says dryly as they catch up to him and Peter outside the common room, "he's stopped shouting."
The portrait swings open and the four of them tumble inside, Sirius looking sufficiently cowed.
"Sorry Moony," he mutters, hands in his pockets.
Remus looks over at him, a weak smile managing to pull at his mouth. "It's fine—just, maybe try not to fight everyone who steps near me yeah?"
Sirius lets out a dismissive "pfft" while simultaneously glaring at a group of second years who've dared to start walking in their direction. James is pretty sure he hears one of them actually squeal in fear.
It's a miracle they manage to make it up to their room without anyone being challenged to a duel.
"I'm serious you know," Remus says, making a bee-line for his bed, more out of breath than he should be and with a sickly sweat covering his skin.
Sirius's eyes light up. "No, I'm S—"
James has his wand in Sirius's face before he can speak another word. "I swear to Merlin if you finish that sentence."
Sirius chokes back a laugh, hands coming up in mock surrender. "Don't know why you're pointing that thing at me, Moony's the one who started it," he sends Remus a wink over James's shoulder that earns him a haggard huff.
