The hallways were busy. Chatter filling the air. Lockers slammed shut. Laughter spilt from all sides. If circumstances had been different, James would have joined Sirius, Remus, and Peter in the cantina.

Instead, he stood near his locker, rearranging his books and lacrosse gear for the millionth time just to keep his shaky hands busy.

It's been what...? Seven months now? Four, since he knew when you told him. Three since the closed adoption papers had been signed—something you and your dad had apparently handled.

James couldn't blame you. It's not like the two of you were a thing. Just one reckless summer night and a significant consequence.

One he could see coming in his direction from the corner of his hazel eyes, albeit a bit blurry because his glasses didn't provide proper vision there. But it wasn't hard to miss you, not in your delicate condition.

He just hoped—prayed—you hadn't heard from anyone—

"You're taking Lily Evans out then?"

Soft-spoken. Yet there was a vulnerability James couldn't ignore but had to. Friends. Sure, he was quite literally the father of your child, but then again—the whole closed adoption thing.

Besides, you had advised him to take Lily out, hadn't you? A few weeks ago. Or was that like a test he was unaware of? Fuck. Not good. Well... it's not like you could go to prom without attracting attention with your belly stretching out your t-shirt.

James is so goddamn fucked.

"Yeah," James sighed before looking at you. "Thought you wanted that? Me having fun at prom with Lily?"