James managed to keep himself from rolling his eyes. Then thought better of it. And rolled them anyway.
"Can't take everything seriously, Moons- especially the important stuff," he insisted. "It'd just make everyone absolutely mad. Not to mention, unspeakably boring."
The idea of actually dwelling on himself, on what happened, on what was going to happen-- on what he might go on to allow to happen-- and what if he could? What if, he went back, and they could stop everything? Fantastic though he may have been, he really didn't think he could pull off killing Voldemort on his own. And the whole jumbled mess of things that went down later, years later, is seemed sort of... important, that things happen the way they did. But he couldn't just sit around and let it all happen. What sort of person would he be, if he went and let his wife get killed, let his son--
See? He was halfway to slipping off his rocker already. Though he did manage to huff a small chuckle in Sirius's direction. He really did wish Remus would just loose his temper good and proper. And then he and Sirius could just have it out over whatever they were on about and they could move on.
"You sure?" he wondered, decidedly pressing on to more relevant topics. "It's my afterlife, you know, the last thing I want is my two best friends being one skirt away from wringing each other's necks. Again." Not that there had ever been issues over girls between the two of them before, but, all that spy-suspicion-stuff-- as far as James knew, they hadn't seemed to have gotten over that business just yet.