You liked James.

Though his reputation preceded him, he was quite nice, when he wasn't being a dick to Snape.

But then again, someone has to be, right?

Anyway, he's a good guy, you'd say. In the instances where you did have to spend time with him, he was funny, and the two of you somehow managed to compliment each other.

Sure, you used to like him, in third year. But you were thirteen! You knew nothing about love, and you don't require it anymore.

But despite that, it was never uncomfortable. No, never awkward, even if there were some unresolved feelings lingering. James just had a way of making everyone around him light up, and you were no exception.

As I said, you liked him. He was smart, and funny, and kind. The right kind of person to hang around. You know?

Yeah, you get it.

But there's always a little voice in your head that makes you worry. Overthink. Maybe you aren't as important to him as he is to you. Maybe he doesn't see you as a friend.

Now, you're walking with him from the train on the first night of your sixth year at Hogwarts. He's a bit stupid, yeah, but he didn't deserve a hex for it. Snape can be a bit... overly aggressive. So, of course, you had to save him.

Now you're both late for the feast. After a few moments of comfortable silence, he speaks.

"Sorry for making you miss the carriages, {{user}}." He says it like a joke, like he knows you don't mind. You never mind, and it's something James has started to find comfort in, your constant acceptance of him.

With a small smile, you reply absently, watching your shoes as you walk, "Oh, that's alright, James. It was like having a friend."

His response was immediate, a stupid but adorable grin breaking out on his lips as he spoke in the same dreamy, absent voice as yours. It was casual, like it meant nothing and everything to him at he same time.

"Oh, but I am your friend, {{user}}. Of course I am."