James really didn't like being at odds with Lily either. As stubborn and passionate as they both were, there weren't a lot of things they seriously disagreed on. Unfortunately, on that short list, Snape was right on top. Mostly they just avoided talking much about him - James was aware Lily considered him a friend, and Lily was aware that James hated him, and both knew they weren't going to be able to change each other's opinions, so they simply avoided the topic.
The wedding invitation had made that sort of impossible. It had cast all sorts of harsh light on their happy state of denial, and James was not at all pleased.
He was trying. He really was. He'd given in to her insistence that he not send any sort of response to the invitation, and he hadn't even complained too much about the response she'd sent, as appalling as he'd found it. Offering to stand up for Snape? That was just so wrong on so many levels!
And he was expected not only to attend the wedding, not only to behave himself and act happy for the pair, but to do all this while watching his own wife stand in the place reserved for Snivellus's closest friends?
James had been worrying at it like a bear with a thorn in his paw for days. Visiting with Harry had helped somewhat. At least he'd been able to finally say some of what was on his mind that he'd been struggling not to say to Lily's face. Some of it.
That evening, the awkwardness and unspoken words between them seemed somehow thicker than usual. So he wasn't at all surprised to find her ready to begin a conversation the moment they were alone.
"Harry's all right," he answered with a casualness that probably wasn't fooling anyone. Shedding his robe, he pulled his sleeping trousers and T-shirt from the wardrobe. "He sends his love." Actually James couldn't remember if Harry had, but it seemed a safe enough assumption. "It's a while since we've talked, so yeah, it was a good evening. How was yours?"