Chapter 7
About mid-day, there is a knock on the fifth-year Gryffindor boys’ door.
Sirius, though seemingly dead asleep the moment before, sits straight up in bed, gasping painfully despite the potion Remus brought back from Madam Pomfrey.
Remus, also dozing, grumbles and turns over.
James, who was wide awake and planning how to sneak into the kitchens for some lunch, is the first to speak.
“Err-- who is it?” he asks.
“It’s Frank. McGonagall sent me. She said you’ve missed class.”
James widens his eyes. He supposes he should have expected someone to come calling.
Remus, who has now been awoken by the commotion, mumbles sleepily to James.
“Tell him we’re sick.”
James nods. “Right, yeah. We’ve seem to come down with something, Frank. Some sort of cold.” He gives a weak cough to help sell the lie.
There is a disbelieving pause behind the door before Frank responds, “Right, well, okay, but can you open the door?”
James quickly motions for his friends to get under the covers and look sick. “Oh, um. Yeah, one sec.”
Remus doesn’t need to move at all, but Sirius cringes as he tries to get into a position where none of his injuries are visible. A corner of the sheet brushes against his tender back and Sirius squeaks in pain, despite the pain potions Remus gave him.
“Everything alright in there?” Frank calls.
“Um, yeah! Sorry. We were, uh, naked.” James replies clumsily before stage-whispering to Sirius, “Maybe just the curtains, yeah? Maybe just shut them?”
"I'm not naked.” Remus mumbles.
Once the curtains are closed, James takes one last look at the room, then opens the door.
“Frank! Good to see you!” James says.
Remus gives a sleepy wave from the bed.
Frank nods in recognition, sweeping his eyes across the room.
James pretend-coughs again.
Frank raises an eyebrow at the poor performance, but doesn’t comment on it. “Where’s Black?” he asks instead.
James’s face looks panicked, but Remus remains calm.
“He’s sleeping. Like we said, we’re pretty sick.” It comes out sounding rather accusatory, challenging, almost.
"I see." Frank says, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Black, you alright back there?" he calls into the room.
"Yeah." Sirius calls through his curtain. "Just a little sick."
Frank frowns, considering. "Can I see what 'a little sick' looks like?"
James and Remus exchange a quick look, then James claps Frank on the back, hoping to distract him. "Aw mate, you know how Sirius is-- vain as can be, doesn't want anyone to see him looking less than his best. Why don't you let him get some sleep and he'll show you that beautiful mug of his when he's feeling better."
James tries to gently push Frank back out the door, but Frank holds his ground.
"Look," he sighs, crossing his arms. "I don’t know what’s going on, but you're clearly lying to me."
James frowns guiltily.
"It's not that we're lying, exactly--" Remus starts, but Frank holds up a hand.
"Don't bother trying to explain yourselves. You're up to something, but if I’m being Frank, I don’t really care.”
James waits to hear Sirius announce that he’s “always being Frank”, but the joke never comes. It breaks his heart all over again.
Frank keeps going. “Ordinarily I'd assign you all detentions and drag you to Professor McGonagall's office right away, but I'm not going to. McGonagall told me to lay eyes on all three of you, make sure you’re alive, and leave you be. That’s all I intend to do.”
Remus and James exchange glances.
“We’re not up to anything nefarious.” James says. “Really, we’re not.”
Frank looks skeptically at the boys. “ Consider this your warning: you've got McGonagall pretty worried. If this turns out to all be a lark, and nothing is wrong at all, next you see the Professor she’ll give you more detentions than I’ve assigned in my entire two years of being a prefect. So you’d better start practicing that cough, Potter, or you won’t have time for a single Quidditch practice this year.”
James feels his face burn at the call-out.
"I see you and Remus," Frank continues, "I just need to see Sirius."
James purses his lips, then addresses the bed curtains. "Think you could show your face, Pads?” he asks. “Would that be proof enough for you?”
Frank nods his head.
There is a bit of shuffling from behind Sirius’s curtains and a couple of strained gasps before a very tired, very pale-looking face emerges. He has the curtains wrapped around his head so that only his face peeks through.
The sight would be pretty funny, if it weren’t for the fact that it isn’t very funny at all.
Frank looks a bit shocked, “Oh! Sirius! I—you really do look terrible.”
“And you look like a right tosser.” Sirius mutters meanly.
Frank has the tact to pretend he didn’t hear. His dubious expression turning to concern. “Are you sure you boys are okay? You don’t want me to get Pomfrey?”
“No.” Remus clips sharply. “We’re fine.”
Frank looks a bit surprised at the ferocity in his tone.
“We appreciate your concern, though!” James adds, ushering Frank to the door. “It’s been lovely seeing you. Welcome back and all that. You’ll give Minnie our regards, yeah? We’ll be right as rain soon, I expect.”
Frank allows himself to be shunted out of the room. “Yeah, I’ll tell her. But if you need anything, let me know, okay? And if you start to feel worse--”
“Of course! Of course!” James waves, “You’re a good man, Frank, a good man. But we ought to get back to our afternoon of sleeping, thanks for popping by!”
Frank looks as though he’s going to say something else, but James shuts the door on him.
“You alright, Pads?” he asks when Frank’s footsteps retreat.
“Yeah.” a muffled response comes from behind the curtains. “But I think I’ve gotten the pillowcase stuck to my back.”
Remus sighs sadly. “I’ll get a wet towel. Guess we should tape you up some now, while we’ve still got pain potions left.”