Eclipsed

The first few days of classes passed by smoothly, full of new classes, too much homework, and trying to catch up with classmates’ summer adventures. Remus had returned to classes after only a day of rest, which in James’ opinion, had been too soon. He still looked terrible, but Remus didn’t want to fall too far behind.   

"So, Muggle Studies was pretty cool, yesterday, wasn’t it?" Sirius said over breakfast on their third morning back. “I hope next class she shows us more of those big bike things. .We spent all of last year learning such useless nonsense… who cares about different coins when you could learn about something cool?!” 

Peter nodded eagerly. "Yeah, I mean who knew muggles had so many awesome elecriclonics in their houses?” Remus snorted at the clear mispronunciation, pushing some plain oatmeal around in his bowl. but Peter continued, unbothered. “Divination is still my favorite, though."

Sirius rolled his eyes playfully. "You only like it because you think the new teacher's fit, don’t you, mate?"

While Peter stammered out his denial, Remus, who had chosen Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, sighed dramatically from across the table. "Well, at least you'll have something to entertain yourselves with while I’m drowning in numbers and symbols. If I’d wanted algebra I would’ve stayed in Wales.” 

"Don't worry, Re, we'll all pitch in and buy you some water wings, see if that helps," James replied, grinning.

"Besides, we still have Care of Magical Creatures to look forward to, together" Sirius added,. "That should be brilliant."

Remus nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "Definitely. It'll be nice to learn about some creatures other than myself firsthand."

Remus’ self-deprecating joke earned him a spoon of egg flung on his shirt, and once that was sorted, he headed off to his first Ancient Runes class with Lily and Marlene, while the rest of the Gryffindor fourth years made their way to Divination.

Ascending a particularly rickety staircase to the tower where Divination was held, they settled into the classroom. With three students assigned to each crystal ball, Peter, James, and Sirius hurried to secure a table to themselves. The room was bathed in warm sunlight streaming through wide windows, creating an atmosphere of tranquility. The teacher last year had retired, and while James had enjoyed her lectures, since he could usually nap through them, he was looking forward to seeing what this new teacher had to offer. 

The students, a mix of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, had been quietly chatting amongst themselves in anticipation, when suddenly, heavy drapes fell over the windows, casting the room into darkness as fog billowed in, shrouding the space in an eerie mist.

"Welcome to Divination class, my dear students!" echoed a mysterious voice, sending shivers down James' spine and he instinctively reached out to grab Sirius’ hand under the table. Sirius squeezed back, giving him an excited smile before letting go. James scanned the room in the dim light before the sound of clicking fingernails on the crystal ball in front of him caught his attention.

Their new teacher, Professor Weaver, was a peculiar figure—a middle-aged woman who wore tinted pink glasses, dark moody lipstick, and a long, blonde braid, which cascaded down her back and past her waist. Her robes, a riot of psychedelic colors, added to her eccentric aura. Her nails were long and painted a deep purple that shimmered as they hit the crystal ball in front of the boys, one by one. 

“In this room, we will learn the principles of Divination, and you will become enlightened to the ways in which we can see the future and read the cards of fate.” She glided across the room, continuing her lecture, although once she left their table, James could hardly keep track of where she was in the room, it was so dark. Throughout the lesson, James struggled to keep up with his notes, squinting in the dim light as he tried to decipher Professor Weaver's words. By the end of the class, his eyes were weary from the strain, and his head throbbed with exhaustion.

“Wasn't that the most incredible class?" Peter exclaimed as they descended the stairs. Sirius and James exchanged unconvinced glances, but Peter's enthusiasm remained undeterred. "Professor Weaver is just the coolest, don't you think?"

“I suppose,” Sirius began, a mischievous smile slipping onto his face, “if you’re into old ladies, Pete.” 

“Old ladies?” Pete sputtered, blushing. “What do you mean ‘into old ladies’? I was talking about the class itself, you arsehole!” Sirius laughed as Pete continued to defend himself, before James butted in. 

“It’s not like there was much for Peter to take in, though- you could hardly see in there!” 

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Stop exaggerating, it wasn’t so dark in there… Petey’s just being shy, aren’t you?” 

“Lay off, Sirius… I really was interested in the lesson.” Sirius scoffed, and Peter continued obliviously. “You know, we’ve had some great seers in my family… maybe Professor Weaver will help me discover my calling!” Peter was not the most naturally talented wizard of the year, and while he did alright in all his classes, was always searching for his thing. “I bet after a few privates, I’ll be top of the year in Divination. What do you say, lads?” 

“I’d say if you can keep your eyes on the ball, or balls, I suppose…” Sirius started again, before Peter’s loud protest and a quick shove into the wall shut him up. 

As they bantered, James couldn't shake the unease gnawing at him, the headache behind his eyes intensifying. Maybe he was exaggerating about the darkness of the room. Maybe he just needed to get used to it… scratch that, he would get used to it. 

Ignoring it as best he could, James followed his friends, determined to brush aside any concerns. But as they disappeared around a corner, a nagging sense of foreboding lingered in the back of his mind, refusing to be ignored.

__________________________________________

After a couple of days, any lingering worries faded from James' mind, replaced by anticipation for the upcoming quidditch season. It was what he had trained for all summer, and after having been the youngest quidditch player in Hogwarts history to make the team, was eager to continue proving himself to be worthy of the title. While he had played as a seeker the last two seasons, he had spent the summer practicing more frequently as a chaser, finding it less stressful than spotting the tiny golden ball amidst the chaos of the game. Walking down to the field for the first practice of the season, where the team would officially be assigned their positions, James felt confident that he could convince the captain to shuffle him into the empty chaser slot.

“Potter!” He turned, and saw the captain, Flora Brown, jogging to catch up to him. He waved, and waited for her to catch up before continuing to walk. A seventh year student, she was a good bit taller than James, and her blonde curls caught the sun as they walked in the fading afternoon light. “Good summer?” 

“Can’t complain,” James replied. “Excited to be back though!” 

Brown smiled. “Same here. "Are you still interested in playing seeker this year?" she inquired expectantly, to which James shook his head.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I was hoping to switch to chaser, actually," James replied. Brown's reaction was one of slight surprise, but she nodded nonetheless.

"Okay, interesting. Not what I was expecting, but let's see how today goes. Maybe we can make it happen," she said, her tone conveying a willingness to entertain the idea.

"I've been practicing all summer, and I think I'll be the best bet to replace Patil as the new chaser... and not just 'cause we're both Indian," James added with a playful nudge, earning a smile from Brown.

"Okay, okay... let's just see how it goes today, huh?" Brown responded, and James eagerly jogged ahead, leaving Brown behind as he entered the pitch.

The vastness of the space never failed to awe James, making him feel simultaneously small and empowered with a broom in hand. After warming up with a few muggle-style exercises, he exchanged his glasses for a set of goggles his father had transfigured over the summer. He’d been having trouble with his glasses sliding down while he was flying, leaving him with what felt like blind spots on the sides. The goggles were meant to keep his vision clear as far around his periphery as possible. With his broom in hand, James did a couple of laps around the field before joining the rest of the team on the ground.

As the team assembled, James approached the Prewett twins, who had taken him under their wing during the previous two seasons.

"James!" they greeted in unison, their camaraderie evident in their synchronized responses.

"Hello, Prewetts," James replied, returning their smiles.

"The best," one of the twins—likely Gideon—responded, with his brother, Fabian, nodding in agreement.

"Our sister, Molly, has two boys—" Fabian began.

"—and another on the way—" Gideon continued.

"—so we were on babysitting duty," they finished in harmony, eliciting a chuckle from James.

"Sounds like fun!" he remarked, though the twins seemed less enthusiastic about it.

"Only if you like changing diapers!" one of them quipped.

Their banter was interrupted by a whistle, signaling the beginning of practice.They turned to see Brown standing on top of a large trunk, which they all knew to contain the quaffle, two bludgers, and the snitch. 

“Welcome back, Gryffindor!” she shouted, and the team whooped and cheered in response. “So excited to be your captain, and ready to win the cup!” After a few more moments of loud celebration, she blew the whistle again, to gather everyone’s attention. “I know some of us are interested in switching positions this year,” she began, making eye contact with James before continuing to look around the team, “and I am open to these changes, as long as we still have the best team possible.” 

After a minute of discussion, the team organized themselves into the different positions: Fabian and Gideon as the beaters, James, Archie Johnson, and Brown as the chasers, and last year’s reserve seeker, Ivy Blume, moving into the position. The remaining players would fill out a second string team, which would be instrumental to strong practices, and the final reserve positions would be filled after the upcoming  tryouts. 

Throughout the practice, James felt his countless hours of practice paying off. He impressed his teammates with his growth as a player, his length and strength proving advantageous in catching the quaffle as it sped by him, seemingly just out of arm's reach. Hours seemed to fly by, and the sun began to set, creating long shadows as it sunk behind the stadium seats. As it got darker, and harder to see, James couldn't shake a growing sense of unease. Despite his best efforts to ignore it, the feeling persisted. The lamps illuminating the stadium didn’t seem to be working at full capacity, and he struggled to see the other players and the various balls flying around the field. Was he hallucinating? Or was everyone else feeling the same way. It was too dark to tell from the expressions on their faces, but he was positive there was something strange going on. 

"James! Look out!" a voice called out, snapping him out of his thoughts just in time to duck as a bludger whizzed past him. He felt the ball blow right over him, brushing the hair poking out from under his helmet, and quickly popped up again. 

“Alright Potter?” Brown called, concern clear from across the field, and James squinted in her direction, flashing her a thumbs up. “Let’s call it a night, folks. If Potter’s missing a ball, it means we’ve been out here for too long.” Everyone laughed as they flew back towards the ground, including James, but as he packed up his broomstick and switched back into his glasses, he got uncharacteristically anxious, and did his best to stay as close to the group as he could in the dark. 

As they traipsed back to Gryffindor tower, sweaty and tired, but safely inside and in good spirits, James allowed himself to forget about the unsettling feeling, choosing instead to focus on his teammates and friends. He swore to himself it was nothing to worry about, eager to put it behind him and enjoy the night.