[He's thinking it, even if she doesn't articulate it. And he'll suggest it, maybe, in a moment--or else just do it, shift and lose himself in simpler emotions. It would be far easier to deal with all of it if he did.

In a minute, maybe. Right now he grips tightly at her hand, staring past her, through her, a muscle working in his cheek.]

He's good. He's-- better than your music could get at. He's good, so much better than me, and he's gone back just to-- to fucking die. Because he's so good. It would be shit, to lose him, if I knew he was going back to something good, but I know what happens to him, to all of us, and there's nothing I can fucking do about it. Instead I'm here.

[He barks a laugh, once.]

And Snape. This bloody ship, it takes James and it gives me Snape instead. This-- total bastard, I can't fucking stand him, and it brings him instead. Who says this place doesn't have a sense of humour.