Secrets and Suspicion
“Finally, it’s the weekend!” Sirius announced, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet like a child set loose in a candy store. His infectious energy filled the room as he grinned widely at his friends.
“I thought the weekend would never come,” Remus replied, dramatically flopping onto his bed as if the weight of the entire school week had crushed him. He let out a theatrical groan, throwing an arm over his face for good measure.
“Time for a Hogsmeade trip!” Peter chimed in, his excitement lighting up his face. He leaned forward eagerly, already imagining the warm butterbeer and shelves of sweets at Honeydukes.
As if on cue, the door to the dormitory creaked open, and James walked in. His steps were slower than usual, but his face was glowing with an unshakable grin. Without saying a word, he crossed the room, sat on the edge of his bed, and dropped his head into his hands like someone harboring a delicious secret.
Sirius frowned, his excitement dimming slightly. “You alright, Prongs?” he asked, his voice tinged with genuine concern.
James immediately straightened up, startled, as though Sirius had caught him sneaking into the kitchens past curfew. “Oh! Yeah. I’m fine,” he said quickly, waving a hand in the air as if to brush off the attention. His grin was still there, but it looked a little forced now, as if he were trying to keep something under wraps.
Sirius raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Alright then, mate,” he replied cautiously, though the look he shot at Remus screamed, Something’s up.
Remus caught Sirius’s eye, lifting a subtle brow in return before sitting up on his bed. “So,” Remus said casually, leaning back on his elbows, “are we heading to Hogsmeade as planned? Or is someone going to mysteriously disappear halfway there?”
james stopped abruptly just before they reached the gates to Hogsmeade, turning to face his friends. His expression was tight, and he was clutching his scarf as though it might hold him together. “Oh, Merlin,” he muttered, his voice strained. “I’m sorry, guys. I—I have homework to catch up on.”
The words tumbled out so quickly they sounded almost rehearsed. His eyes darted anywhere but at his friends.
Sirius froze mid-step, turning to gape at James as though he’d just announced he’d joined the choir. “Homework? Homework?!” he repeated, flinging his arms up dramatically. “You’re ditching a Hogsmeade trip for homework? Come on, mate! We’ve had this planned for weeks!”
James winced, looking thoroughly miserable. “I know,” he said, his voice faltering. “I’m sorry, I really am. I just—I can’t go. Not today.” His voice cracked slightly on the last word, and he looked dangerously close to tears.
Remus, who had been watching quietly, stepped forward, his brow furrowed in concern. “Prongs, it’s just a trip. If something’s wrong, you can tell us. We’ll understand.”
“There’s nothing wrong!” James snapped, more harshly than he intended. He winced immediately afterward, dragging a hand through his messy hair. “I mean... nothing’s wrong. I just... have too much to do.” His words were unconvincing at best, and he knew it.
Peter shifted uncomfortably, glancing between James and the others. “Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly. “I mean, we can always reschedule if—”
“No!” James interrupted, shaking his head vehemently. “Don’t reschedule. You all should go. Seriously. Have fun. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Sirius narrowed his eyes, his suspicion only growing. He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know. We’ve known you too long. This isn’t about homework.”
“I swear it is!” James insisted, though his face betrayed him. His voice was pleading now. “Please, just... drop it, alright?”
Remus exchanged a look with Sirius, who clearly wanted to press further, but Remus gave a slight shake of his head. Pushing James any harder might only make him shut down more. “Alright,” Remus said carefully. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” James said quickly, grateful for the out. “Thanks, Moony.”
With that, James turned and hurried back toward the castle, leaving the three of them standing there in awkward silence.
Sirius huffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “That was weird. He’s up to something. I know it.”
“Obviously,” Remus replied, his tone calm but thoughtful. “But whatever it is, he doesn’t want us involved. At least not yet.”
“Bet it’s about Lily,” Peter piped up, his face lighting up at the idea. “You know how he gets around her.”
Sirius snorted. “If it is about Lily, he’s being more dramatic than usual. And that’s saying something.”
Remus adjusted the strap of his bag, looking back toward the castle where James had disappeared. “Come on,” he said finally. “Let’s just go to Hogsmeade. If he wants to tell us, he’ll tell us.”
Sirius grumbled under his breath but allowed himself to be dragged along as the three of them made their way into the village.
Meanwhile, James reached the Gryffindor common room, his heart pounding in his chest. He flung himself into an armchair near the fire, his head dropping into his hands. The truth was, he wasn’t doing homework. He hadn’t been able to focus on much of anything all day. The guilt of lying to his friends gnawed at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to explain.
How could he tell them? Tell Sirius especially? James groaned into his hands. This was a disaster waiting to happen, and he knew it. But for now, he couldn’t deal with Sirius’s questions—or his judgment. Not yet.
As the lively chatter of students filled the streets of Hogsmeade, Sirius found himself walking through the bustling village with a distracted air. The laughter and excitement around him felt distant, muted, like he was watching the scene through fogged glass. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the shops, the sweets at Honeydukes, or Peter's enthusiastic recounting of Zonko’s newest tricks, his mind kept drifting back to James.
He was worried. Really worried. Was something bothering him? Was he alright? Had Sirius done something to upset him? The questions tumbled through his mind in a relentless cycle, leaving him tense and uneasy. Normally, Sirius was the life of the party—ready with a quick joke or a dramatic flourish to lift the mood—but today, he couldn’t summon the energy to play his usual part.
His thoughts chased themselves in circles, each one more troubling than the last. James’s distant behavior earlier that day didn’t sit right with him. The way he’d brushed them off with that strained excuse, the way he’d looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders—it wasn’t normal for James, and it wasn’t something Sirius could just ignore.
Peter and Remus seemed perfectly at ease. Peter was busy showing off a bag of Every Flavor Beans he’d just purchased, while Remus browsed through a stack of books in the window of Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop. They laughed, joked, and carried on as if everything was fine. And maybe, for them, it was.
But for Sirius, it wasn’t.
He tried to shake off the unease, forcing himself to act like nothing was wrong. He laughed at Peter’s jokes and nodded along to Remus’s musings about quills and parchment. He even managed to smirk at a group of giggling third-years who passed by, whispering excitedly about him. But underneath it all, the worry remained, a heavy weight pressing on his chest.
As they made their way to the Three Broomsticks, Sirius trailed a step behind the others, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat. The sounds of clinking mugs and cheerful conversation greeted them as they entered, but even the warm, inviting atmosphere of the pub couldn’t distract him.
Sirius slid into a booth across from Peter and Remus, his gaze flicking toward the door as though he expected James to walk in at any moment. When he didn’t, Sirius’s stomach twisted further.
“You alright, Padfoot?” Remus asked suddenly, his perceptive gaze narrowing slightly.
Sirius blinked, startled. “Yeah, course I am,” he said quickly, leaning back in his seat with a practiced grin. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Remus studied him for a moment, his expression skeptical, but he didn’t press the issue. Peter, oblivious as ever, was too busy tearing into a large butterbeer and rambling about the prank he wanted to pull on Filch next week.
Sirius nodded along absently, but his mind was far away. He couldn’t stop replaying the look on James’s face earlier that day—the strained smile, the quiet “I’m fine” that was so unlike him. It gnawed at Sirius, the not knowing.
As the others chatted around him, Sirius stared down at his untouched butterbeer, his fingers tracing the rim of the mug. His thoughts refused to settle, and no matter how much he told himself that James would be fine, that he was probably overthinking it, the worry remained.
Why did it feel like something was falling apart, and he was the only one who noticed?
Remembering the Marauder’s Map tucked away in his pocket, Sirius quietly slipped it out, careful not to draw any attention. He unfolded the parchment under the table, tapping it lightly with his wand and whispering, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
The intricate lines of Hogwarts unfurled before him, revealing the castle and its grounds in exquisite detail. Tiny, moving dots labeled with names danced across the map, showing the whereabouts of everyone inside. Sirius scanned it quickly, his heart racing like it was some kind of high-stakes game of hide-and-seek.
He checked the Gryffindor common room first—empty. Then the Great Hall, the library, the Astronomy Tower. His eyes darted across the map, searching every nook and cranny until, finally, he spotted the dot labeled James Potter.
His stomach flipped when he saw who was with him.
Regulus Black.
Sirius froze, staring at the two names side by side, their dots stationary in what appeared to be a quiet corner near the dungeons. A strange mix of emotions churned in his chest—surprise, confusion, and a pang of something he couldn’t quite name.
Why is James with him? What could they possibly be doing together?
He tried to shake off the uneasy feeling, but it lingered, gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. Sirius folded the map carefully and slid it back into his pocket, his mind racing with questions he didn’t have answers to.