INSTEAD, james potter [1]

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Old Minnie McGonagall won't suspect a thing. She already told you the information a year ago. And I'm brilliant," he smiled modestly. "And it would be very interesting to debate whether or not it is non-verbal magic after the first transformation. When I turn into my Animagus form, I don't have to say a word and it's still magic."

Lyra considered this for a moment, studying him to find out if he was serious and willing to put in the work. He was grinning expectantly at her. "What the hell. Let's do it. Anything for that O, honestly."

"Great! I'll start writing the notes!" James knew she was surprised at his work ethic, but it was honestly another ploy to make her wonder what she really knew about him, to make her wonder if there was another layer she didn't understand yet.

Still, there had been a question scratching at his brain for days. He had done his best to be civil, to make her see another side of him but he truly couldn't help himself. "So, what was that note you got a few days ago? When you stormed out after your big blow-out with Lestrange."

She didn't want to answer. She didn't think it was his business honestly, especially when they just had a good hour of working together. The last thing she wanted was to ruin that. "It was nothing."

"It wasn't nothing. You looked really flustered, and pissed off at Lestrange, who I thought was your best mate." He met her gaze, and saw how she was slowly getting annoyed at him again. "I'm just concerned, honestly."

"Concerned, really?" Lyra scoffed, but realized he wasn't going to give up until she gave him what he wanted. She was just worried he wouldn't like the answer, and that he might lash out because of it. "Fine. I got asked out by Bertram Aubrey. You know, the Ravenclaw prefect."

James frowned, not quite sure how to react. "Oh."

"Right. Now that we've got that over with," Lyra sent him a pointed look, telling him to go back to focusing and showing the work ethic she didn't know he had. "Can we just get back to work? I really want to do well on this essay."

"Yeah. Sure," James responded shortly, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced up at her, wondering what the bloody hell he was going to do now. "Let's get back to work."

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Sometimes Lyra wondered if Remus had a secret he didn't want to tell her. Like he had some sort of illness or reason for always looking like he was terrified just of being alive. Lately, he had been growing paler, almost as white as snow. 

It hadn't been the first time she had noticed that something was wrong, but she was always so afraid of offending him. She had already asked about his scars before, she didn't want to seem even more rude. 

But Lyra was worried. Remus could be seriously sick or uncomofortable, just too afraid to say anything so he didn't leave her alone for patrol. "Remus, are you alright? You're looking rather pale."

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, while obviously not fine. He seemed a bit on edge and jittery, like he was expecting some sort of attack. "I just haven't slept very well for the past few days. I haven't really had an appetite either so I haven't eaten much."

"It sounds like you're sick, mate. Come here." Lyra forced him to come closer to her, even when he tried to struggle away. She put her hand on his forehead, trying to feel how warm he was. "You're feverish. You should really go to the Hospital Wing."

"I said I'm fine, Lyra!" the Gryffindor groaned in annoyance. This only furthered her suspicion that something was up, because he had never really snapped at her before and if he had, it would have taken more than just her concern for it to happen.