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Summary
James doesn’t understand what’s happening.
After the incident by the Black Lake, his red-haired angel had finally managed to break free from that sullen, greasy snake. He ought to have been relieved—yet he can’t stop paying attention to one thing:
That Slytherin… has changed.
The boy who always hunched over, who kept himself tucked into shadows as if he didn’t quite belong—now walks with a straight back, his former unease replaced by a sharp, steady focus. He ignores every gaze on him, striding down the corridors with quick, decisive steps, the hem of his robes sweeping behind him in dark, wave-like ripples.
Once, James even caught Snape standing by a window, watching a group of younger students roughhousing in the hall with a cold, assessing stare—as if he might deduct points any second, as if he had the authority to do that.
James can’t make sense of it.