Alina Nightshade doesn't think much about James Potter. Only that he seems rather keen on being annoying.
James Potter thinks Alina Nightshade is a mystery all wrapped up in a very pretty girl. And he is keen on trying to be her friend.
James Potte...
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Alina holds the potion tightly in her hand as she makes her way down the stone corridor, her footsteps echoing against the walls.
It's the full moon—two days after the party—and the vial feels heavier than usual in her grip. At least this time, she doesn't have to sneak it into Remus' drink; he can take it willingly.
As she approaches the Great Hall, the low hum of morning chatter grows louder, students gathered for breakfast. Alina's gaze instinctively finds the Gryffindor table, her eyes landing on the familiar mop of messy dark hair first. James is there, with Remus seated beside him, looking weary but present. Sirius and Peter are already seated, leaving one empty spot across from James.
With a steadying breath, Alina walks over and slides into the empty seat. She uncorks the potion, sliding it across to Remus. "Drink," she commands, her tone firm yet quiet.
Remus blinks, his dazed expression lifting as he registers her. "Hm?" he murmurs, still half-lost in his exhaustion.
"Drink," she repeats, pressing the vial into his hand. Remus grimaces but obediently drains the potion, the undiluted taste clearly unpleasant. Alina watches, satisfied, before taking the empty bottle and slipping it back into her robes.
"You should let me make something for your hip," she murmurs, almost to herself. "Slughorn has many ingredients."
Remus gives a faint shake of his head. "It's fine," he replies, though his voice betrays his exhaustion. "Doesn't hurt too bad."
"Then why are you leaning so much on your left side?" she asks flatly, already reaching for a pomegranate on the table. Remus doesn't respond, his lips pressed together in a thin line.
Across from her, James stifles a laugh, eyes bright with amusement as he looks at her. She arches her brows, feigning innocence as if she has no idea what he finds funny.
Once she finishes her breakfast, Alina and James rise from the table, heading off toward their first class. The hallways are starting to fill with students hurrying to their own lessons, the din of footsteps mixing with the quiet murmur of voices.
"You get to the Shrieking Shack through the Whomping Willow, right?" Alina asks, her voice lowered to nearly a whisper.
James nods. "Yeah," he confirms.
"And where do you re-enter the castle?"
"There's a hidden door a hall away from the hospital wing," he explains. "Behind a statue of a knight."
She commits this detail to memory. "What time do you usually get back?"
"Early in the morning," he mutters, almost as if the exhaustion is already creeping in just at the thought.
"Alright," Alina says, her tone unwavering. "I'll wait there and help."
James's head snaps toward her, eyes widening slightly. "No, sunshine, It's okay you don't need to—"
