"Oi," James winced at Amelia's suggestion for an alibi. Even the simple concepts of movement and effort were ailing him, but he accepted that it was a discomfort brought upon himself. Instead of taking up her offer and putting himself first, he merely shook his head. "I will drink the juice, but I will skip the Infirmary. The last thing I really need right now is Pomfrey thinking that I have started trouble. Times are tough enough without my ego driven injuries taking up bed space." His explanation was easy. Yet it held a new maturation never before witnessed so vivaciously (though it was delivered quite solemnly) in the Gryffindor. "Be it evoking violence from a Prefect, or rumbling in the halls with a Hufflepuff prince," he rolled his eyes in bitter remorse.
But Amelia proved that she did not harbor such horrific intentions. She would neither toss him down the stairs (to speak in metaphors) nor would she abandon him regardless of his hasty and thoughtless actions. It was a satisfactory reply. Comforting, really, to know that James had Amelia to bandage him up when it came to his reckless ways. Although he doubted he should always depend on her to act so cordial, he appreciated the moment. Taking it for what it was - compassion.
Or he would have save Sirius did not interrupt his soothing thoughts. "What do you mean?" he inquired turning to face his forlorn friend. "I tell you damn near everything 'cept when I know better because you'll share it with the world," it was a comment made in jest, of course. James - quite honestly - allowed Sirius in on more of his life than anyone else.