Delicate | James Potter

2.29

Exactly a week later, Alice and James found themselves in a position they'd grown used to recently: lurking late hours in the common room. Alice was still concerned James's well-being was not quite well enough to go chasing shady exchange students down mysterious tunnels, invisibility cloak or not, but he really did seem a lot better. The wonders of magic still surprised her, but it was a welcome surprise. No muggle would be up on their feet so soon after regrowing their ribs, not that they could regrow their ribs in the first place. Hell, if James were a muggle he would definitely be long gone by now. She wondered whether Pomfrey had a tally chart of all his Hospital Wing visits.

The fire crackled, still ever fierce. It must have been spelled to never die, for Alice had never seen it go out naturally. Usually a house elf would appear at an early hour of the morning to clean it but they'd always start it right back up again. It smelt perfectly of smoke: not completely overbearing, but familiarly warm. Alice smiled to herself as she watched a frustrated third year sigh loudly and throw the paper they'd been scribbling on for the past hour into the fire. It lit up instantly.

When the third year finally left, clearly giving up on whatever homework they'd been struggling with, it left just the two sixth years in the common room.

"It's midnight." James said.

Alice was aware, she could see the clock just as clearly as him, but she nodded and hummed anyway. "I'm surprised everyone's gone to bed already."

"I wish we had the map," he continued, "just so we could see who else was lurking around. And so we could see when Eve leaves."

"If Eve leaves." Alice corrected.

"Do you not want to follow her?"

Alice looked up from the page of her notebook she was doodling on. James, sat next to her on the sofa, had his feet propped up on a nearby chair. "No I do."

"Then why the pessimism? Come on Winters, this is fun. I feel like a real spy."

She sighed. "I want to figure out what she's up to more than anyone. I guess I'm just slightly... scared, is all."

He nodded his head. "That's fair. I get it."

Alice raised an eyebrow at him. "James Potter, the boy who feels no fear. Right."

"Are you mocking me?"

"No!" She smiled at his look of slight offence. "I'm not mocking you at all."

"You were definitely mocking me. Why did you say my name like that?"

Alice wanted to laugh. James had spent the majority of his younger years building up his reputation, to the point that now it often felt comical. He'd spent the entirely of second year telling everyone he was scared of absolutely nothing, until Sirius put a snake in his bed in the last week and he screamed down Gryffindor tower.