April 14th, 1976"I'm not mad at him, I'm disappointed in him."
Mia leant against the sofa in the common room, an Arithmancy book in her hands.
It had been two years, and she was still miffed that her boys had essentially tricked her out
of taking the class. She would be glad when O.W.L.s were over so she could drop Care of
Magical Creatures—again. While flipping through the pages of her textbook, she realised
that, instead of reading them, she was using the motion as a distraction to avoid putting
effort into the conversation with her brother.
"But Remus forgave him," James reasoned, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front
of her, wearing his Quidditch gear and looking uneasy.
She frowned, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. "Well, maybe Remus shouldn't have.
Sirius was selfish and foolish, and this bitter rivalry between the two of you and Snape has
now grown far past schoolyard bullying—which I also don't approve of."
James immediately shifted his gaze elsewhere, looking chastened. She knew that
expression. It was a James Potter Classic that would be passed down to his son. It roughly
translated into: I'm sorry my actions have made you feel this way, but I'm certainly not going to stop
doing them. At least Harry had the good sense to only use it when it came to risking his life
to save the world. James used it to escape her wrath and to continue harassing Slytherins.
"No one died," James tried to remind her with a sheepish smile, "and Dumbledore
put Snape under a Wizard's Oath to keep Moony's secret." She knew that he was purposely
not calling Snape a rude name in an attempt to wheedle back into her good graces. "It's
been a month, Mia. Remus is fine, Snape's fine, but you're still giving Sirius the cold
shoulder."
"His fur will keep him insulated during the storm," she said with a bite to her tone.
"At least scream at him or something." He sighed, turning pleading hazel eyes up at
her. "Mia, I've never seen him this bad before. I'm really worried he's going to do something
stupid if you don't forgive him."
Mia stared down at her brother shrewdly, slowly arching a suspicious brow at him.
Not taking her eyes off his face as she closed her book and set it down beside her on the
sofa, she leant forward, studying his eyes intently. She watched as James slowly cracked
under the pressure of her scrutiny, a calculating trick taught to her by Dorea.