SMILE LIKE YOU MEAN IT | james potter

xxii. reality check

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POLARIS WAKES WITH A BANGING HEADACHE. At least this one is alcohol induced, rather than her body failing induced. She merely groans and buries herself into the duvet. It takes a moment for her to notice that James isn't there, but before she can even decide to get up he flings the door open.

    "Good morning sunshine," he says, his arms laden with a breakfast tray. Polaris groans, covering her ears and pulling the duvet over her head. It is way too early and she's way too hungover to deal with such a chirpy James. James laughs as he pulls the duvet away from her, laying a blanket around her shoulders as she sits up.

   "Why're you so happy?" Polaris grumbles.

    "I'm always happy," James replies. "I made you breakfast."

    "Thank you," Polaris says, happily accepting the tray and taking a large gulp of tea. It doesn't scald her, and she blinks in surprise. She's always had the bad habit of drinking her tea too fast, she's done it since she was a child. Come to think of it, whenever James makes her tea it's never too hot, not even when she first arrived at Grimmauld.

   "What? Is it too milky?" James asks, surveying her confused face.

   "No, no," Polaris says. "It's fine. Perfect, actually. It's not too hot."

    "Well you always take a massive gulp of it even though it's made with boiling water," James rolls his eyes. "And then you complain that you've burnt your tongue."

   She does do that.

   "Oh, well, thanks," Polaris says. He sits down in bed next to her and she leans against him absently, tucking into her toast.

   "So," James says after a while. "Are we going to... are we going to talk about it?"

   Oh god, she so doesn't want to talk about Diablos right now. Not until she's had at least four cigarettes and maybe a cup of coffee. She just doesn't have the energy, nor the patience, to talk about it. James will probably say they should tell Sirius and Remus about Diablos' spell on her, and then they'll freak out and then they'll tell Dumbledore and everyone will look at her with pity.

   "I'd rather not," Polaris replies. James goes stiff, and only nods. Polaris frowns as he shifts away from her slightly. Jeez, was he that concerned about it?

   "Is that... not okay?" she asks.

   "It's fine," James says shortly, his jaw tense. It's anything but fine, by the looks of it. Polaris' frown deepens as he stands up. "I have to go and... I have to go."

   Polaris opens her mouth to respond but he's already gone. She hastily puts the tray on the floor, pulling on a dressing gown as she hurries after him.

   "James?" she calls after him, but James seems pretty determined to get away from her as he's practically running down the hall. Polaris ignores the aching in her side as she picks up her pace.

   "James, for fucks sake," she shouts, finally catching up to him. Her visions slightly blurred, and she sways unsteadily on her feet. She's horrendously out of breath for someone who's only jogged the length of the corridor, and she can taste blood in her mouth.

   "What?" James asks wearily. "You don't want to talk about it, I won't push it Polaris. Just... leave it, alright?"

    "Why are you upset?" Polaris asks, completely bewildered.

    "Why am I upset?" James scoffs. "Is that a serious question?"

    "Yes! I don't want to talk about Diablos the second I've woken up!" Polaris says indignantly. "I don't think that warrants you being angry at me!"