Before his rival could get in a word to Lily, James popped round to the other side of Lily's sick bed and stared intensely at her; there was no trace of pity or disgust, just hot anger at the ones who did this to her. He didn't realise how close he was kneeling beside Snape because right now, all that mattered was Lily.
"Lily, you were kidnapped from Hogsmeade when we —" James stopped abruptly and glanced over at the Slytherin that was sitting a little too close for comfort, suddenly feeling self-conscious about their date. He raised himself a little taller [as much as one could while kneeling down] and turned back to Lily with a different angle.
"By the looks of it, you were attacked by some purist tossers who didn't know when to bloody quit!" Madam Pomfrey gave him a dangerous look with the accompanied 'Mr Potter', to which James smiled awkwardly and ran a hand through his hair, a habit that tended to calm him. He looked appropriately sheepish for a moment until he returned to his careful study of Lily. The mutilation of her beautiful hair drove a hot knife into his gut that made him feel a new wave of deep-seated anger. It took all of his willpower not to act on it upon his usual, and very convenient, target sitting nearby.