𝐒𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍; 𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫.

𝐱𝐢𝐯: 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘, 𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀❜𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐔𝐅𝐅 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒. She'd been walking, with James and Peter, up to the Gryffindor dorm room with freshly smuggled treacle tarts held between them, when the patrolling prefects (Talkalot and Wincenshire, seventh year Slytherins) passed by, unaware of the trio under the Cloak. In her loud, sharp voice, Lucinda Talkalot had proclaimed her surprise that someone as self-respecting as Bones would go for "a scoundrel like him".

Amara had immediately thought of Remus. How utterly broken he would be, again, but forced to be okay under the conditions of his silence.

James had immediately thought of Amelia; he knew her as a just, strong-willed girl with pretty eyes and soft hair. Maybe she'd be good for Sirius.

Peter had immediately pictured himself in Sirius's place; dating a nice girl and having people he barely knew gossip about it.

She considered pulling Remus for a talk; kicking the boys out of the room entirely and sitting down to listen to him once more. But when they entered the boys' dorm again, he gave Amara a look, a significantly stony look—not altogether that much different from a mule, in all honesty—and shook his head very slightly.

So Amara just smiled at the group, sat down cross-legged on the bed next to Remus's lying form, and presented the plate of treacle tarts to the group. Sirius's and Remus's beds were next to each other, so James and Peter hopped on to share with Sirius, opposite Amara and Remus.

"Wingardium Leviosa," James said lazily, flicking his wand.

The plate hovered between the two beds, and he reached out and grabbed a treat from it.

"You're such a showoff, James," Remus said, shaking his head. He smiled and took one as well.

"Alright, guys," Amara said. She cleared her throat and looked around at the boys around her. "We ought to look at the cursed Quaffle some more."

"Seriously?" Sirius groaned. "I canceled my date with Amelia, just to talk about the same bloody thing we talk about every night?"

Remus scoffed. "It could've seriously hurt James, mate. Have some priorities."

"You can judge my priorities after you get a girl, mate," he said lightly, shrugging. "I mean, what d'you possibly have to occupy yourself with every night if not a bird?"

Amara bit back a fierce retort. She contented herself with merely directing an incredulous look at James, who did not reciprocate. He was staring, wide-eyed, and nearly drooling, half-chewed treacle tart lodged in his mouth, at the wall behind her—near lifeless, near thoughtless.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Peter mimicking the expression she was giving, shaking his head in what looked like very unconvincing exasperation. 

"Books," Remus was listing on his fingers, hands trembling just perceptibly. "Friends, assignments, why I've been transforming more come every full moon, the fact that a Quaffle at our school took off of one James's fucking fingers—"

"Freak accident, maybe?" Sirius snapped. "We go to Hogwarts, mate—a magic school!" He gestured hopelessly, hands flying about in the air. "Shit like this happens!"

"Fine!" Remus said. "Go on your bloody date—maybe if you're lucky, you'll hit tonight, how about it—that's all you really want anyway—"

"Remus—" James began, a crease forming in his forehead.