Golden Boy

When Sirius wakes up on Friday morning, it's to a sore throat and a pounding headache. He sobs into his pillow twice before hauling himself out of bed and down the stairs purely to find James to take pity on him and fuss over him a little. He feels bad and James is basically made for fussing over him, he's a natural. At the very least he notes, shuffling down the stairs and feeling very sorry for himself, the house is warm. They’d risked it and set up the heating charms - or well, James and Remus had, Sirius has been very much so banned from participating in any way beyond planning them, James and Peter eyeing him so suspiciously he’d eventually thrown his hands in the air and gone to sulk in his room until they came to fetch him (once the charms were done). 

“Jaaaaaames,” he whines coming into the kitchen, “I'm dying.”

“Oh,” says James, turning to him, “You look awful.” He ignores the scowl Sirius sends him - kicking him when he's down, really? - to press the back of his hand to Sirius’ forehead. “Merlin, you’re burning up.”

“I'm dying,” Sirius repeats, glad this is being taken as seriously as it deserves. “Say goodbye to Lily for me, would you? Tell her she was the best mother a boy could hope for.” A snort resounds from behind James and when he peers over his shoulder it's to find Remus’ eyes on him with a mix of concern and amusement. James huffs out a chuckle and pulls him in for a hug. Sirius lets himself be tugged in easily, burying into his best friend's shoulder with a pathetic pained groan. 

“I'll call Mary,” James reassures him, “Would you like some tea, hot chocolate, for now? Your throat sounds like it hurts.” 

“It does,” Sirius mumbles into his warm shoulder. He thinks James might still be wearing two or three layers of jumpers, judging by the padding, despite the heating. 

“I'll make you some hot milk and honey then,” James offers and Sirius mumbles in agreement, “Gonna have to let me go then, Siri.” 

Sirius grumbles but does as asked, sinking into a seat at the table and nearly slipping off when it's the wonky one, burying his head in his arms on the table once he's stabilized himself. 

“I'll call Mary,” says Remus quietly, pausing beside Sirius’ shoulder where he can feel his presence just above him. “Sore throat, fever and …headache, yeah? Anything else?”

“Just feel like dying,” Sirius replies without lifting his head and the other boy hums sympathetically. Sirius feels a gentle, soothing pressure as he runs one hand through his hair before leaving. That was nice. 

James hums as he puts the milk on the stove to boil and Sirius can feel himself relaxing, soothed by the gentle familiarity of it, until his phone rings. The sound is loud and startling and Sirius flinches away from it, wincing as it aggravates his head. 

“Sorry, sorry,” says James, grabbing the phone from the table to answer, “Oh, hey mom.” Sirius looks up with interest. “Yup, the 8th, this Sunday … uhh, early afternoon I was thinking? I can be there for lunch… yeah, yeah… no, um, no I think he’s still, he's staying here, yeah…” 

Oh. Sirius looks back down at his own hands on the kitchen table. He hopes Effie isn't disappointed. She's probably glad to be celebrating with her family and without her son's random friend there, right? 

“Yeah, mom, yeah I will, I - ok, ok, fine -” James sighs exasperatedly, turning to Sirius, “She wants me to tell you that we're skyping you on Christmas and you better answer.” Sirius nods and laughs a little, wincing when it hurts. Salazar, he loves Effie Potter. “Yeah, he’s - well he’s feeling a little sick today but… no mom, he's fine - yes he… would I lie to you??? Oh shit.” 

Sirius follows his eyes to where the milk pot is angrily overflowing on the stove. James rushes to pull it off the heat, cursing and apologizing to his mother as he does, phone hastily tucked in between his shoulder and ear. He keeps it in the same precarious position as he fixes up Sirius’ cup, pushing it across the table to him as Remus walks back in. Sirius gives him a grateful smile, eagerly tucking his hands around the warm mug. Remus sits down beside him, nearly falling off his chair despite it being one of the fully normal and functioning chairs of the kitchen and James slips out, squeezing Sirius’ shoulder as he passes, still talking to Effie. Remus watches him go and Sirius watches Remus. 

“You're still wearing my jumper.”

“Oh uh-” Sirius feels his cheeks go bright red. He is. He is still wearing Remus’ jumper but it's so cozy and warm and soft and he saw it on the floor beside his bed this morning and, head hammering, didn't have the courage to not put it on. “Sorry, did you, um, did you want -”

“Oh, no,” says Remus hurriedly. “No, no you can, you can keep it as long as - uh, as long as I'm here. It's nice to see you… warm.” Sirius’ entire face is on fire. What does that mean? Does he usually look cold? The silence stretches between them tightly and Remus glances back behind them to where James has sat on the couch to talk to Effie. 

“Is that his mom?”

“Yeah,” Sirius rasps, “Effie.” He takes a big swig from his mug, desperate to at least slightly fix his voice, and splutters when it's still burning hot. Remus sniggers at him and he sends him a glare as he coughs. 

“You know her well?” Sirius shrugs. He doesn't want to talk about it really because if he talks about how well he knows Effie then he has to talk about why he knows Effie so well. Remus doesn't press the issue. “James is leaving sunday?” Sirius nods. Remus hums. Sirius wonders if that's weird for him, that in two days he’ll be living with two strangers. He takes another, more tentative, sip of his honey milk. 

“Do you guys do presents?” Remus asks, “I didn't - I haven't really thought about it but he's leaving soon so should I, like, is he getting me a present? Should I get you a present?” 

Soon. James is leaving soon. Shit. 

“I've got him a present,” says Sirius slowly, mind whirling - he has to get to work, “And he's probably got you one. You need to get one for me though. I haven't gotten you one and, James, James won't mind if you don't get anything.” 

“I mind,” says Remus with a slight frown, “What did you get him?” Sirius can't help the smug smile that takes over his face. He glances behind them to make sure that James is still in deep conversation with his mother before leaning into Remus to whisper.

“I enchanted these two mirrors i made so that we can like, well basically facetime through them, he's getting one and I have the other-”

“Why not just facetime?”

Sirius frowns and pouts.

“It's better than facetime - I mean better quality, clearer and all, no need for any kind of cell connection or whatever, and like aesthetically and -” he hesitates “- and I've put in some protective spells as well. It's - they're going to amplify the relationship of whoever owns them so we’ll well if one of us is in danger the other will know, that kind of thing. It's, they're gonna connect us in some way, no matter how far apart we are, it's a little - it's hard to explain.”

“That's… that's very complicated magic.”

“I know,” says Sirius smugly, delighted with himself. He’s a little nervous to be giving it to James but he thinks the other boy will be over the moon. Remus goes a little quiet, staring down at the table. “You don't have to get him anything like that,” Sirius reassures him, throat tightening further with guilt. “Me and James… I owe him a lot for this year." The look Remus sends him is heavy and scrutinising. Sirius swallows but doesn't look away. 

It's very quiet.

“Sirius! Sirius!” The moment shatters. 

“Peter?” He spins around, probably looking a little too wild, his heart thumping, as his other best friend comes barreling into the kitchen with rare speed and alertness. 

“James is leaving in two days.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you gotten Effie and Fleamont anything?” Sirius winces. It's good to know that he wasn't the only one who didn't realise how soon James’s departure is, at least. ”Ha! Oh thank god, me neither - what should, do you have any ideas? Should we just sign them a joint card?” 

“I was - am, I am gonna make them something,” he answers apologetically, “I kinda… after this summer…”

“Oh,” says Peter, deflating and slumping into the seat opposite him, “Right, yeah that makes sense, I just - ugh, I hate shopping for them, they're so perfect, what could my measly hands possibly have to offer?” Peter has known James since they were tiny little children and Sirius is terribly jealous of them both for it. It means he’s known Effie and Fleamont almost his entire life. 

“You always come up with something,” he says accusingly, “I won't be falling for this whole ‘I'm terrible at shopping for gifts’ act again, Pettigrew, you're good and you know it.” 

That, at least, makes him laugh. 

“I'll come shopping with you? If you want?" Remus offers, “I need to get something for James so..” 

“Oh yeah?” Peter brightens, “Amazing.” Remus nods, almost shyly. His jumper today is so ugly, Sirius wants to cry. 

“Will you..” he hesitates, turning to Sirius with wide, concerned brown eyes. Brown eyes should be banned, Sirius thinks, they're too… doe-y, no one should be able to look at someone like them, with that kind of warm concern. “Will you be ok? Mary said she has an exam but she’ll come over when she can - I just-”

“I'll be fine,” Sirius waves him off with an admittedly pathetic cough, “James loves to coddle. He's a coddler. I don't need any more of you.” 

So while they get ready and leave for the Bailey, Sirius puts his hair into a bun, rolls up his sleeves and starts to paint. He has a plan, he just hasn't left himself much time which is a bit of a problem, especially as his head aches, making it almost impossible to concentrate and his hands are trembling slightly. He makes it through the afternoon purely due to the never ending supply of warm honey milk and soup James brings him, ignoring his best mates pleas to just go to bed. He's very very grateful when Mary shows up though.

Mary and Lily are potions geniuses basically. They're both great at healing but Mary is the one they call first because it's her specialty and she's less likely to experiment on you. He almost cries when she lets herself into his bedroom, eyebrows raising at the paint supplies covering the floor. In his defense, it's a very small room. 

“Hey.” He doesn't know Mary very well. Compared to the others. She's the most beautiful person he thinks he’s ever seen in his entire life, even her curly afro surrounding her head always perfectly in place, every curl falling as though strategically to enhance her beauty. But she's very quiet, or maybe just calm, and he's just clicked with Lily and Marlene far more. He should work on that in the new year, he thinks, on getting closer to Mary. Anyone that close to Lily Evans has to be interesting. 

She pulls a small bottle of clear liquid out of her pocket. 

“Hey,” he coughs, “thanks so much for coming, feel like I'm dying.” He gets a laugh at that and a shake of her head. 

“Remus made it sound pretty dire.” 

Sirius pouts at that. Dire? As in… had Remus said he looks bad? He doesn't want Remus to think he looks so bad he's telling other people that he looks ‘dire’. 

“It feels dire,” is all he says and Mary's smile softens. 

“You look rough,” she agrees, “James said you refused to just go to bed for the day? It would probably have done you some good.” He shrugs.

“I'm painting his parents their christmas gifts.”

“Ah, I see,” she leans forward with genuine interest to see the canvas, her face twisting thoughtfully, “If I… if I asked you to paint me something one day, would you?” she asks hesitantly, a precise ask clearly in mind. If his head didn't hurt so much he’d be very very curious. He smirks at her teasingly.

“If that thing-” he jerks his head to the bottle in her hand “- does what I need, you can have anything.”

“Oh,” she laughs, “I'll keep that in mind, here - just swallow it all down straight, I should warn you though… it’ll knock you out for a bit, not any longer than three hours usually but… yeah. Bedtime.” 

He sighs looking at the canvas in front of him but realistically, he knows, he’s better off taking the cure now and losing three hours than trying to continue in his current state. 

“Thank you, Mary, really.” She waves him off with a smile, pressing the vial into his hand before leaving the room with only a light wave behind her as she goes. He lets himself collapse back onto his bed before he swallows it and coughs in surprise at the way it burns down his throat. 

He sets the empty vial on his bedside table and is almost immediately hit by a wave of exhaustion. Merlin. He hadn't expected it to take effect so fast. With heavy limbs, he rolls himself under his covers and snuggles into his pillow, closing his eyes. 

He's pretty sure he’s dreaming when he hears someone come in murmuring his name. Definitely dreaming when he feels a pair of soft lips brushing his forehead.