When James comes back to 13, Nuvel Drive, it's a little before six. Feeling a little dizzy from the less than pleasant Knight bus ride, he walks in through the gate and into the garden, where he spots Auguste's car.

James rolls his eyes.

He walks up to the front door. It's unlocked, so he steps in. He's hoping for Remus to be awake, because he really doesn't fancy being stuck with Auguste right now.

"Hello?" He calls, closing the door behind him.

No one responds. Sighing, he takes his coat off and hangs it up. He walks into the kitchen and almost screams when he sees someone asleep at the table, his head buried in his crossed arms.

It's Auguste, of course. James starts backing away out of the kitchen, but Auguste raises his head and their eyes catch.

"What are you doing here?" Auguste frowns, sitting up.

"Collecting taxes," James smiles coldly.

Auguste glares at him.

James really thought they were half a step above completely hating each other. After that day where they went looking for Sirius together, he thought that, well, he didn't have to hate Auguste. But this morning, he realized that he's got no problem doing just that. And he's going to carry right on.

But then he looks a little closer, and he thinks something's a little off. Because Auguste's eyes are a little pink at the corners, and his cheeks have a strange sheen to them.

He's been crying.

Not that James can blame him. He's not really feeling like he's on cloud nine, either.

"Stop staring at me," Auguste says.

"I'll stare at whatever I want," James replies, crossing his arms.

Auguste narrows his eyes. "Why was your phone off last night?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because I listened to your best friend drive himself into a ditch and I wanted to let you know."

James frowns. Remus told him that it was Auguste who found Sirius, but not how that came about to be. "What do you mean you..." he shakes his head. Remus did mention that Sirius had called Auguste...

Oh, oh no.

James walks over and sits down on the chair next to Auguste. "I'm sorry," he says.

"Why are you sorry?" Auguste laughs bitterly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm the one who couldn't talk him out of it,"

James swallows. It's thick and sticky, and it makes him wince. "It's... You know it's not your fault, right?"

Auguste doesn't reply. He looks away. James' eyes flicker over to his hands. They're gripping each other tightly.

"Auguste..."

"Don't look at me," Auguste snaps, covering his face with his hands and turning his torso away from James.

"No, I..." James reaches out to touch his arm, but draws his hand back. He bites his lip then, and telling himself to fuck his pride, he puts his hand on Auguste's arm anyway. "Look, you can't blame yourself, okay?"

Because that's up to James. If anyone is to blame himself, that would be him.

"Come on, don't cry," he says, tugging at Auguste's arm. Auguste lets himself be turned, but doesn't remove his hands from his face.

"Leave me alone," Auguste says, finally raising his head. His voice is so cold. "Just... fuck off."

James shakes his head. "I can't do that," he says. He's not unused to reasoning with crying boys.

They stay like that in silence for a minute. With James' hand on Auguste's arm.

"I wished you were there," Auguste says softly. His eyes are full of tears, and it makes them sparkle like stars. His voice is hoarse when he adds, "Because you wouldn't have let it happen."

Those words tear a hole in James' heart. At least it feels like they do. If only Auguste knew.

"He would've listened to you," Auguste continues. James wonders if he's doing it to hurt himself or James. Either way, it ends up doing both. "You would've stopped it."

James doesn't know what to say. He swallows once more, but he can't swallow his guilt away.

"Stop crying," he says, before he can say something else. He reaches forward to wipe Auguste's cheeks with his palm. "I can't stand to see you like this."

Auguste stares at him, his eyes still full of fresh tears that are fighting to spill over on to his cheeks. He opens his mouth to say something, but James doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't want to hear anything at all.

"Stop it," he says firmly. His hand doesn't move away from Auguste's face. And he doesn't want it to, either. Under his palm, Auguste's cheek is nothing like Lily's. His skin isn't soft like hers. It's a little bumpy.

James remembers that Auguste's skin was far from clear when they were younger. And he feels horrible when he remembers that he's teased Auguste over it. He's teased Auguste over a lot of things, and that favour was always returned very generously, but now, all of a sudden, with one hand holding Auguste's arm and the other on his cheek, James feels so damned sorry for all of it.

He wonders what Auguste is thinking right now. He can't even tell what's going on in his own head.

"Just stop," he says, but he might not be talking to Auguste anymore. And then he kisses him. Just lets it happen without thinking about it.

James has never kissed a boy before. He's never kissed anyone except Lily.

And James has never wanted to kiss a boy before.

But he decides it's not too bad. Especially when he feels Auguste's hands on the back of his neck.

But then the true gravity of things strikes him. It seems to strike Auguste, too, because they both jerk away from each other at the same time.

"What the hell just happened?" Auguste asks, his hands sliding down James' neck and on to his own lap.

"I... I don't know," James says softly.

Auguste looks at him, eyebrows drawn together. James looks down at his hands. "Can we... can we figure this out later?" He asks.

"I..." Auguste frowns deeper, and James can't help feeling a little triumphant about putting him at a loss for words. "Okay."

"Because... Sirius..."

"I know," Auguste nods, "Now's not the time."

"Yeah," James glances at the door. Now what?

And really, it's got to be the best timing ever, because Remus walks in at the very moment. He stops dead, looking from James to Auguste and then back to James. His hair is still messy and his eyes are heavy with sleep.

"Um, hey," Remus tugs at his sleeve.

"Hi," James waves.

"What are you up to?" Remus asks.

"Uhm, I was just... asking Auguste a question," James cringes at how incredibly convincing that was.

"He was asking me if I wanted tea," Auguste says smoothly, like they weren't snogging each other two seconds earlier.

"Oh. Can you make me some, too, please?" Remus asks, "I'll go have a shower real quick."

"No problem at all," James smiles, watching him leave. He turns to Auguste.

"What?" Auguste raises a perfectly-shaped eyebrow. "You heard the boy, make us tea."