Don't set my robes on fire

[James Adams]

To many, it might have appeared clear. True, James had caused some of the problems that he and Esme had wound up in, but he wasn't the one to have tried to kill him. To many, the obvious answer was to hate her for it, and as he tossed and turned at night, he had felt exactly that in his body. But when he thought more deeply about it, perhaps he wasn't quite right to hate after all. Unstable she might be, but he had had a part in all of their incidents, and Professor Kingsley had been right in placing him on probation. He had no desire to cause anything more between them, and he felt that the only way that he would be able to walk down Hogwarts' corridors feeling fully safe again was to heal the rift between them.

So that Saturday morning, after yet another sleepless night, James decided that now was the time to say sorry. He understood that there were risks: Esme had tried to kill him once already, sitting outside the Slytherin common room waiting for her to arrive could be near enough to suicide. But he wasn't in Gryffindor for nothing, so after breakfast, he headed straight down there, and concentrating hard, he conjured a comfortable chair with his wand and set it down to one side of the passage where he knew that Slytherin students came from. He couldn't place the opening to their common room exactly, so he intended to simply wait until Esme returned from breakfast herself to apologise. He just hoped that it wouldn't all go wrong, as he was in enough trouble as it was already.

 

[Esme Lancaster]

Though she was usually one to take her time when it came to eating, Esmè spent her Saturday morning picking through her breakfast with a fork, but barely anything more than that. The weekend was supposed to be relaxing, but she had so much on her mind that her body just wasn't capable of doing so. She lacked an appetite, her thoughts distracting her from being at all the slightest bit hungry. The upcoming OWLs, her seer training, her exchange with Styx, her relationship with Vulcan and Avie's academic problems were all subjects that stressed or worried her in recent weeks, and few of them were anything she could do all that much about. Despite being capable of peering into the future and seeing first hand outcomes, it wasn't an ability she had any control over and could force at will. Her visions were triggered, and it frustrated her that she couldn't use it for any kind of reassurance. The future was still a mystery to her.

With barely a few mouthfuls down, Esmè eventually abandoned her plate and rose from the Slytherin table, deciding it was best to resign to her common room for a while. She exited the Great Hall and made her way toward the dungeons, descending the staircase and traveling along the corridor until she abruptly stopped in her tracks, a few steps away from her destination. There, hanging close to the entrance of her house, was James. Esmè wouldn't say she hated a lot of people, more-so that she greatly disliked them, but James was one of the few that she hated with an absolute passion. He had been nothing but a vile, repugnant thorn in her side since the start of the year. Up until that point, he'd been just another nobody, but now he reserved a special place in the list of people she'd rather seen removed from the face of the planet. The fool even had the audacity to conjure himself a seat. What was he doing? Had he been waiting for her, or were there other students he liked to harass? "What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing here?" She hissed as she approached, eyes narrowed on the Gryffindor boy and hand dropping casually down toward her robe pocket, which comfortably housed her wand. Every time they'd met, she'd used it for some reason or another, so she'd rather be prepared. Last time he'd gotten away with a few burns. Next time he wouldn't be so lucky.