"I wanted it to be a fad," he admits, and when he looks away, it's only because he's half-smiling at the jab about him opening his mouth. James swallows once, then again, distantly afraid that he's going to swallow his own tongue, before he sort of makes a beckoning gesture at Scorpius. Come here, he seems to be saying, and he's shifting back in his chair to make sure his lap is flat.

"-- but they're bastards," James croaks finally. "If they strung you along. They're right bastards."