𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨-𝙧.𝙖.𝙗

𝟭𝟴-𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁

JAMES ABRUPTLY FORGETS AND ABANDONS HIS CONCERNS about Jo and her recently discovered friendships and instead chooses to focus on something so much more near and dear to him: himself.

Jo watches her brother, boisterous and proud, sway from side to side, Lily tucked under his right arm, his left hand holding a bottle of Firewhiskey by the neck, as the entire common room swells in singing him happy birthday.

The entire common room except, of course, Jo and Remus.

Jo lounges on the couch with her legs on Remus's lap, resembling her older brother in the way she holds a bottle of Firewhiskey, loose and wild, in the way her eyes droop a bit more with each sip. Jo watches him spill his drink and place wet kisses along Lily's cheek and neck and grows nauseous at the sight of it. She diverts her attention to Remus, who is glowering at the way Sirius claps his hand on James's shoulder, his other arm tight around Emmeline's waist.

A heavy sight falls from Jo before she brings the bottle to her lips, the buzz it's giving her feeling pleasant and warm. She's been having some complicated feelings towards Sirius lately, a headache-inducing combination of resentment and guilt, anger, and pity. She wants to throttle him for the way he's using Emmeline, dragging Remus around but can't bring herself to do so with the sick twist of knots that exists inside her gut every time she's near him. She can hardly look at him without seeing Regulus anymore.

"In case you were wondering," Remus drawls from his spot underneath her legs, and Jo lops her head in his direction, "you don't look jealous or bitter at all."

The sarcasm in his voice makes her snicker, resting her chin on the top of her bottle. "I've been told that I am so many times, I'm just starting to lean into it," she tells him. "I don't think I'd be down here if he wasn't my brother. Even then I still barely came."

Remus slips his eyes away from her, back onto Sirius. Jo watches the way they change, pupils dilating for a moment before his attention is on Jo once more. "I'm hoping this one will be better than your birthday."

Jo remembers her birthday as Regulus; the mood ring on her finger, walking so close to him their arms would brush together, laughing and completely oblivious to whatever was going on in the Gryffindor common room. It takes her a moment to recall what he's referring to: their fight over Emmeline. Jo hums. "Are you and Sirius speaking yet?"

"We've been speaking," Remus replies, curt and tense and Jo tips more of the Firewhiskey down her throat.

Jo hiccups. "In what context?"

Remus narrows his eyes at her. "What do you mean 'in what context'?"

"I mean," Jo answers, shifting, pulling her legs off of Remus's lap and holding them tight against her chest, "are you speaking to him as a friend, or are you speaking to him as something else?" she asks, words rushed and slurring together. Her head feels lighter.

"He's still going out with Vance," Remus answers, not answering her question.

"They'll break up soon enough," Jo shrugs. "I don't think he really cares about her."

"Are you a fucking expert now?" he spits out abruptly, aggressive and short and, at once, Remus is irritated and glaring at Jo as if she is the source of all of it.

And in response to Remus's irritation, Jo laughs. Head tilted back, neck exposed, and she shoots back up to push lightly at Remus's shoulder. "Don't get pissy with me," she chides, tipsy and ambivalent to his sour mood, "just asking you a question."

"Would you like me to ask you a question about Regulus Black?" Remus retorts.

Jo thinks that if she was a bit more sober or a bit more aware, her reaction to this would have been a bit more severe. But she shrugs, smile making her cheeks feel pleasantly sore. "Go on, then, ask away," she says. "You can ask me about Regulus Black all you'd like. Why would I care?"