Chapter 9
James woke up in the hospital wing, groggy and disoriented. The first thing he saw was the concerned faces of his friends. Sirius, Remus, and Peter were all gathered around him, their eyes filled with worry.
“What… happened?” James croaked, his throat dry.
“You don’t remember?” Sirius asked, his voice tight with relief.
James blinked, trying to piece together the last few moments. He could feel the ache in his chest, the exhaustion in his bones, but the rest was a blur.
“No,” he said quietly, looking away.
Remus leaned forward, his face drawn. “James… you were unresponsive. We thought you...”
James's heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t want to deal with it. He didn’t want to explain. Not yet. Not ever.
The reality of the situation hit him hard, though. The pain he had hidden, the loneliness he’d been struggling with it was all out in the open now.
Sirius sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Mate, we’ve been worried about you. You can’t keep doing this.”
“I’m fine,” James said quickly, sitting up. His voice was steady, but the cracks were beginning to show. “I just… I didn’t mean to”
“You don’t have to explain it,” Remus said quietly, cutting him off. He placed a hand gently on James's arm. “But we’re not going to leave you alone, James. We’re here for you. We’ve always been here.”
James met his eyes, and for the first time, he saw something different in Remus’s gaze—an unspoken understanding, a promise to help him, no matter what.
“I know,” James whispered.
They didn’t push him to explain further. They didn’t ask for details or try to get him to talk about what he had been feeling. They simply stayed with him, offering silent support.
From that day on, things changed, but not in the way James had expected. His friends didn’t smother him, but they made sure he knew they were there little gestures of care that reminded him he wasn’t alone. Slowly, James started to open up to them more, bit by bit. It wasn’t easy, but it was a start.