Potter, please

The bag of sweets swung gently from Aurora's wrist, the weight of it forgotten as she strolled beside James down the winding side path leading away from the bustling centre of Hogsmeade. Most students stuck to the main shops and cafés, leaving the little trail that curled behind the village toward the trees relatively empty.

James didn't mind the silence. For once, he didn't feel the need to fill it with words or jokes. He could still feel her fingers intertwined with his, small and warm in his own, even through the chill. Her thumb was brushing over the back of his knuckles absently. Like it was nothing. Like it was everything.

"Did you mean it?" she asked suddenly.

He glanced sideways. "Mean what?"

"That you read wizarding law for fun."

James grinned. "No. I definitely made that part up."

"I thought so." She nudged him. "You're terrible at lying."

"I'm excellent at lying," he protested. "I lie all the time."

She gave him a pointed look. "James."

"...Okay, yeah. Terrible."

They both laughed quietly, their steps falling in sync as the gravel path softened beneath their feet, giving way to crunching leaves and patches of soft moss. The village sounds had mostly faded now, replaced by the low rustle of wind in the trees and the occasional chirp of distant birds. Even the sky had softened, clouds drifting slowly across a gentle grey-blue canvas.

Aurora let go of his hand, just for a moment, so she could wrap the cloak tighter around herself, and James had to shove his own hands deep into his pockets to stop himself from reaching back out.

"You warm enough?" he asked after a beat.

She looked up at him, expression unreadable. "Are you always this thoughtful?"

He blinked. "Er... I don't know. Not really. I mean, maybe. Sometimes. I don't know—only with people who matter, I guess."

She turned her face away again, but he caught the way her lips twitched. Like she was holding back a smile.

They walked a little further until they reached a gentle clearing where the trees thinned and the lake shimmered in the distance, reflecting the muted sky. The path curved toward a large flat rock near the edge, half-sheltered by a leaning birch tree, its bark peeling in pale curls.

"Sit with me?" she asked, nodding toward the rock.

James nodded mutely, following her over and brushing snow-dusted leaves off the surface before sitting. She perched beside him, tucking one leg under the other and letting the bag of sweets rest in her lap. They could see the castle from here, glowing faintly against the grey afternoon like something from a painting.

James leaned back on his hands and exhaled slowly.

"This is nice," he said after a moment.

"Mmhm."

They didn't talk for a while. Not because there was nothing to say but because this kind of quiet felt good. Safe. Like the start of something real.

"I used to come here with Remus," Aurora said eventually, her voice soft. "Back when we were younger. Before he figured out that being around people too long wore him out."

James turned to look at her. "Do you still come out here?"

"Sometimes. When I need to think." She glanced at him. "Or not think."

He smiled faintly. "That's fair. I used to come out here too. Mostly to avoid the noise. And well, sometimes Sirius when he was being dramatic."

Aurora smirked. "So most of the time, then."