LONG STORY SHORT, james potter

𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞.

"You'd think so Prongs," Remus said with a short laugh. "You'd think so ... Betty? Is that you?"

Betty came out from standing just behind the white curtain that separated Remus from the rest of the occupants and smiled hesitantly. He looked horrible. His eyebrows were in a permanent furrow due to pain and he was littered with fresh scars — one nasty one in particular on his cheek. 

His body looked thinner than it did before the full moon — whatever potions Pomfrey had given him obviously made him lose his appetite. This wasn't an uncommon side effect of the medical treatment he received, but it still took her by surprise — no matter how many times she'd seen it. 

His hair was a mess, which was slightly normal for him, but not to the extent that it appeared right then. And there were dark bags under his eyes — even when he slept, he couldn't seem to find rest, it seemed. 

James, weirdly, seemed also rougher around the edges than he normally did. His hair was messy, like it always was, but he seemed tired. And not just physically — there was a slight sense of defeat surrounding him. Nothing too powerful — just that lingering, existential sense.

But, perhaps, she should've expected it. He'd tried to get Lily to leave Amos again and it wasn't pretty. For him, at least. And now Betty understood why ( not that she didn't before, but after her and Lily's day of being whoever they were, it became much more clear ). And a part of her missed that James before. 

Maybe it was because a small, sadistic part of her liked fighting with him. Maybe it was because the energy that bounced off of them as they did was exciting — something that was lacking in her life as she didn't have the social skills that her brother did ( if you could even say he had any ). Or maybe it was because when he would slide a sexual comment in there — one that he knows would make Remus mad — it would make her cheeks light aflame. Because Betty Lupin enjoyed infatuation. She craved the initial infatuation, the chase and the little moments of eye contact that told a whole story. 

And yet she would grumble that she hated him and he would do the same, like they did. Because they did, in fact, hate each other. But after all, there's a fine line. 

She made brief eye contact with James as she walked over to Remus's bedside. Hazel met brown. But, this eye contact was fundamentally different. Because it wasn't of hatred or annoyance — it was of a shared experience and understanding.

"I came to see how you were," she said quietly as she sat, her back straight, on the chair next to his bed.

"About time," Remus joked.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "Everything's just blurred and I promise I hadn't forgotten, I just — "

"It was a joke, Betty," Remus said with a kind smile.

"Sorry," she stumbled as she stared at the palms of her hands in embarrassment. 

"Don't apologize," Remus replied with a laugh.

Betty looked up from her hands at the movement of someone shifting and she realized that James was getting up, silently, from the bed next to Remus — probably aimed to leave. It was obviously that they were having some sort of fun — a good time at least before, so Betty didn't feel a need to hate him in that particular moment. After all, he was being kind. 

"It's alright ... James ... you don't have to leave," she said as she offered him a small, awkward smile. It was barely a smile — more like her pressing her lips together and turning them up. 

"No, it's ... " James protested, but Betty just raised an eyebrow at his attempt and then flicked her eyes back down to the bed across from Remus and then back up at him. 

He clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes, but obeyed her silent command nonetheless ( even though it pained him greatly, but it was for Remus, not his sister ). He flopped back down in a huff of flying hair and slight annoyance as the three of them — practically strangers within this grouping — settled into silent.

Remus dozed, but never truly fell asleep, James counted the stones on the ceiling — waiting for anyone to talk, in vain and Betty sat, comfortable ( as she much preferred silence to talking anyway ) as she looked around at the way light cascaded into the room and lit up a particular spot — something so enchanting to her, but not to someone like James. 

However, after probably about half an hour of agony for James and awkward content for the Lupin siblings, he hoisted himself up again — deeming his staying not worth it ( no matter how much he loved Remus and besides, it was nearing time for practice and he'd be damned if he had to give up their pitch slot to the Ravenclaws because he was late ).

"I should go," he said, groaning as he got up. "I have practice and can't be late."

"Thanks Prongs," Remus said lethargically, but no matter how tired he was, he still produced a winning smile.

"'course Moony," James mumbled as he turned to leave, but he hesitated.

Betty and James made brief eye contact, again. They both curtly nodded — a symbol of one moment of understanding. One moment where sworn enemies might come together because of a common cause.

But the thing was, it was just one moment. One second in time when the idea of Betty Lupin and James Potter became Betty & James — acquaintances, maybe friends. 

And it was in that moment that Betty swore that she saw the way the little golden flecks in James's eyes swirled — making it look like there were whole universes just waiting for someone to come along and wanted to hold them in the palm of their hands.