He gave a small sigh at Remus' response. It wasn't that he begrudged Remus Lily's confidence, it was just that the answer was so infernally vague. Or the fact that the immediate response hadn't been a cavalier, 'Oh, nothing to worry about.' Not that he'd have believed it.
"We are fine," James insisted.
And they were. It was great when they were together, and they could laugh and tease each other, complain about the unnatural wrongness about the new Star Wars movie, and she'd tell him about the way he and Sirius had tried to predict which position his infant son would someday play for his House team. (Sirius, it turned out, had been right - though to be fair, seeker was Sirius' second guess.) But it was the times when waking up in the middle of the night meant realizing that despite what she said, she wasn't sleeping well. It was the fact that she had to work so much, that she always seemed to need to be busy with something.
"It's her I'm worried about," he said, his voice as close to grave as it ever got. Old concerns and an unsettling sense of familiarity lurked on the edges of his thoughts. He ran a hand through his hair to dismiss them before looping his thumb in the belt loop of his jeans. "Look, if I did something, something really stupid and I was too much of a prat to realize it, you'd tell me, right? Remus, I've tried, really tried but I just- I mean, Lily talks about stuff with me and her and Harry and I feel like it ring some kind of bell or something, but it doesn't. And something's bothering her. I just don't know what it is."