James blinked, settling his glasses back on his nose, and let her lead him meekly over to the sofa. She was right, he had to admit. He hadn't really noticed, until she pointed it out, just how weak in the knees he felt - and not in the way he usually did around Lily, either. Was it possible to be so tired you forgot how tired you were?

Either way, there was no denying that it was an immense relief to flop down onto the soft cushions, as soon as he was close enough. Even the prospect of keeping Lily Evan's hand on his arm wasn't enough to keep him standing, so either he was really exhausted, or he was taking the promise not to hit on her extremely seriously.

"It's not..." He cleared his throat, looking up at her question. "...I mean, Pomfrey took care of all the actual injuries. I think I'm just stiff, mostly? But, like..." His nose wrinkled, and he sighed. "Really stiff. Feels like I got stamped on by a troll."