He doesn't go back to the astronomy tower the next night. Or the night after that. Neither does Regulus. James checks. That's how he spends his free time now. Watching Regulus's name move around the map. It is absolutely and utterly pathetic. But that doesn't stop him.
"Hey, earth to Prongs?" Sirius snaps his fingers impatiently in James's direction.
James looks up from the fireplace to find his three friends staring at him.
A beat passes.
"Sorry—what?"
Sirius huffs. "Halloween party planning, care to contribute bucko?"
"I don't know," he sinks lower in his chair, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. "Can't we just do what we did last year?"
Sirius gasps. "Can't we just—are you—Remus are you hearing this?"
James is only vaguely paying attention. He knows that someone says something else, and then he hears the muffled noises of shuffling feet and closing books. Sirius doesn't start shouting again though, so he considers it a win.
Remus's face appears above him.
"Hey Moons," he says wearily.
Remus worries his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes running James over like he's a potion that's not boiling right.
"Lets go shall we?" he says eventually.
James arches his brow. "Sorry, I can't go anywhere right now. I'm in the middle of some very important work."
"Oh yeah?"
James nods, expression stern. "Mhm, someone's got to count all the cracks in the ceiling."
Remus smiles, reaching down and grabbing hold of James's wrist, "Come on you lump, lets go."
"If you're going to kidnap me at least have the decency to tell me where we're going," James notices that Sirius has retreated to the other side of the common room with Mary, Pete nowhere to be seen. Remus had clearly dismissed them.
"I'm not sure kidnappers are known for being particularly decent."
"Semantics," James mutters, allowing himself to be dragged out of the portrait hole and into the hall.
They walk in silence at first, James shoving his newly freed hands into his pockets and making a concerted effort not to look at anyone. The problem with being a generally sociable person is there's no efficient way to communicate to people to stay the fuck away from you when you're having a bad day.
"You didn't bring the cloak," James finds himself saying eventually.
"I did not. Very astute of you to notice."
James huffs out a laugh. "You going to be okay when we get detention for walking around after curfew?"
Remus taps the prefect badge on his chest, sending James a sly look.
"Ah," James says wisely. "The perks of selling out."
Remus only rolls his eyes, continuing to lead the way. The nice thing about Moony—well, one of several—is that he's not a bad person to not talk to. He's not uncomfortable with silence. He can let things be, in a way that James has never been very good at. It doesn't bother Remus that you're sad—not because he doesn't care, but because he understands that sometimes things can't be fixed. They just need to be felt.
"Snacks?" James asks as they stroll up to the painting of the bowl of fruit, Remus tickling the pear with great dignity.
"Hot chocolate," Moony corrects.
