October 1971
Peter’s reaction to the news mainly consisted of gasping and shock. Remus had to stay overnight again, with Madam Pomfrey so they couldn’t tell him.
“We’ll visit him.” James promised. Peter nodded, but Sirius didn’t care much.
“Shame, I hear the moon’s going to rather brighter tonight.” Sirius commentated.
“That’s the second time he’s missed it.” Peter continued.
As they continued talking about the subject, Sirius’s eyes darkened. He looked as though he wanted to share something but felt it wouldn’t be his place to do so.
“Alright there, mate?” James wanted to know what caused his face to drop like that.
“Yeah, yeah I was just thinking about…” Sirius paused. He didn’t know whether he could share this observation or not.
“About?” James offered.
Sirius stared. “Well, we’re friends, right?” James and Peter nodded. “In that case then…” James waited, impatient.
“We should have a name for ourselves.”
But the tone in which Sirius had said it was depressive, full of uncertainty and hesitation. Still, it was his secret to tell at the end of the day.
“What did Dumbledore call us, indirectly well.”
“A gang of marauders.” Sirius supplied.
“Then we’ll go with that.” James decided.
“Marauders, odd but I like it.” Peter shared.
Sirius agreed, but he seemed absent for the remainder of the night. James wanted to know very desperately, but he thought of Remus and how he’d promised not to pry into his secrets. Sirius would tell them all, and if not them, then surely James very soon.
And just as James and Peter had fallen asleep, a wide-awake Sirius woke up, slipped on a robe and made his way to the hospital wing, in search of answers.
-
Remus joined them for the final class of the day, flying.
He seemed distant and moody, snapping at people who dared to talk to him. Most of all, he seemed to be in a one-sided match with Sirius. But Sirius had claimed he did nothing when James questioned him. There was nothing he could do and for that, James felt utterly terrible.
So terrible, not to mention distracted.
They were practicing flying in the air, and mid-conversation with Sirius, something had hit James, right on the head. He lost control of his broom and ended up falling, injuring his left arm. And right before he lost consciousness, he saw Snape, smirking before flying away on his own broom and a concerned Sirius looming over him.
-
James had never had a concussion before in his 11 years of living. And he found it very odd. It wasn’t complete darkness, far from it. Instead, he began remembering memories he’d forgotten about it, particularly, a boy who he’d been friends with.
-
James was maybe five or six. He still had those adorable chubby cheeks, with a red tint that never went away. He wore glasses that adorned his face, and his hair was beginning it's curl pattern. It was a event, something about a James’s mother’s co-worker’s job promotion celebration. His mother worked a muggle job, somewhere in the office. She said she found it relaxing and it was her recreational time.
James was currently making his way out of the bouncy house they had for the kids. He struggled to get out, the children jumping inside overpowered him and he kept falling. Ever so persistent, he eventually made his way out.
And like most unsupervised kids, he ran off somewhere. He didn’t himself didn’t know where he was going, until he was no longer outside the courtyard of the rented banquet hall. He was now walking inside the place itself, when he smelt baked goods out of nowhere.
James loved anything of that sort. He followed the trail, before he found himself a room. When he entered, he was beyond delighted by what he saw. There were many pastries, cakes, and other such items laid out to be eaten later. James wasted no time, rushing over and admiring it all. He grabbed a chocolate cookie, with vanilla frosting and began eating it. And just as he was enjoying the cookie, he heard footsteps approaching. He pocketed another cookie before hurrying off.
While nibbling on the cookie, he began exploring again. The place wasn’t bgi really, but to a five-year-old James, it was something like Narnia. He kept wandering around, until he decided he wanted to go back out again. Retracing his steps, he kept going until he came across a bizarre room.
The door was slightly open and tehre was loud shouting coming from within. Slowly, James peered. Inside, he saw a boy who looked younger than him, sitting down on a chair with his head bowed. A woman was yelling at him, her face was red, and she kept huffing.
“Someone should teach you manners! You’re an embarrassment to me!”
She said some more things, but James didn’t understand the words very well. Nonetheless, he felt hurt by them. The boy just sat there and gave the occasional nod. The lady seemed to have enough of the boy, and she stormed out. As soon as she came James’s way, he jumped back, hiding behind a table placed right next to the door. He watched the lady go, who continued talking about the boy, even though she was alone.
James waited until he heard no more footsteps. Then, he went back to peering at the boy.
“I can see you.” The boy called out, staring right at James who felt as though he’d been convicted of a felon.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Replied James.
The boy stared at James, before looking away. James walked into the room quietly, standing a few feet away from the boy.
“Who was that lady? And why was she mad?” He asked. The boy blinked a few times, before answering James.
“She’s my mum. And I stole a cookie.”
James’s own mother had never treated him in such a way. He felt immense pity.
“Sorry.”
The boy was silent, and James didn’t know what to do. Then, he remembered the cookie he had pocketed. He pulled it out and offered it to the boy.
“You can take it. I already have one.” He still had a half-eaten cookie on the other hand.
The boy slowly reached out for the cookie and held it in his hand.
“Thank you.” He said softly.
James gave him a smile, and they continued to eat their cookies in silence.
-
James woke up in a bed different from the one he’d been previously sleeping in. He stood up abruptly and regretted it when his head began aching again.
“Careful.” That was Remus. Remus was here, and Sirius and Peter too.
But the muggle boy he’d been thinking of wasn’t, and it left a aching hole in James’s heart. It was weird though, because he’d never seen the boy after he turned ten. He’d forgotten all about him, until he’d recalled the name thanks to the Whomping Willow.
Bartemius, or Barty as he liked to be called, Whitmore.
A muggle boy who had been James’s friend. He felt more like an unsolved mathematical equation or some kind of undiscovered species rather than a friend.
James groaned as he tried to think more about the mysterious boy.
Peter was now telling him to stop, and to go back to sleep. But sleep was the last thing on James’s mind. In that moment, he remembered the face of the boy, And just as he had remembered, he had forgotten.
So James slept some more.