Eclipsed

The remainder of the term blurred into a hectic frenzy for James, the anxiety over his potential eye condition vying with the worry festering among the Marauders regarding Remus' moon issues. All of that combined with looming mid-year exams and the strain on his eyes caused by the constant darkness that was winter in Scotland, James found himself consistently stressed and exhausted. 

True to his Marauder spirit, though, James refused to let his worries dampen his dedication to mischief. Despite their limited time and energy, he and Sirius committed the group to upholding the sacred tradition of pranking, and ensuring that their legacy would be remembered by all! They did their best to execute at least one prank per week. From the innocuous act of substituting the fourth-year Slytherins' black ink with a vivid shade of hot pink just before their Charms written exam, to risking expulsion over replacing the powdered sugar in the kitchens with Zonko's Edible Sneezing Powder, to orchestrating the release of spontaneous singing toads into the Great Hall on the night before Winter Break, the Marauders ensured that laughter and chaos would reign supreme. 

On December 21st, with all their exams over, and the toads humanely collected and released into the wild, the Marauders found themselves huddled in their customary compartment, within the cozy confines of the Hogwarts Express. As the train chugged along, the wintry landscape covered in a blanket of snow, Remus lay sound asleep across one bench, the combination of late night packing and a physically exhausting semester coming to an end succumbing him to his perpetual fatigue. Meanwhile, Peter snoozed peacefully in the opposite corner, his snores serving as an oddly comforting soundtrack to the ride. Sirius and James occupied the remaining space, seated closely together with their legs casually propped up on Peter's trunk, which rested on the floor nearby. They stared at Remus for a bit, prepared to catch him if at any point he rolled off the bench.

“Whatever’s going on with Re is pretty fucked, don’t you think?” James commented to Sirius, safely assuming the others were asleep.

Sirius turned away from the window, expression solemn. “It’s been on my mind,” he replied, running a hand through his hair, which had finally begun to grow into a comfortable length after his annual summer buzz cut. 

“How close are you to figuring out this whole Animagus thing?” James asked, still whispering. 

“I guess as close as you are. I don’t think I’ll manage it during the year, with classes and all. I think we could try it next summer…” Sirius trailed off, then let out a strange little laugh. “Walburga will be glad not to hear my voice for an entire month,” he added bitterly.  

“You’re probably right about that one,” James joked, halfheartedly. “Just wish we could get it done sooner. I don’t know how much more Re can take, really.” Both boys watched him for a moment. 

“I worry about him, James,” Sirius said, before turning to face James. “And you, too.”

James shifted uncomfortably under Sirius' gaze. “Me? What’s there to worry about?”

“Plenty,” Sirius retorted, his tone earnest. “I’ve been having nightmares about you taking the wrong step and careening off of a moving staircase… it’s hard to believe you’re the same guy flying circles around people upside down and backwards on a broom.” James chuckled softly, trying not to wake Peter and Remus.

“Probably just need to work a bit more on my coordination on land that’s all,” James replied confidently, masking the unease that had been nagging at him all term. Sirius didn’t seem entirely convinced. James sighed before continuing. “I’ve talked to Pomfrey and my parents about it. Probably just need a new pair of glasses. Nothing major.”

Sirius studied him for a moment before turning back to the window. After a brief silence, James spoke up again. “Are you going to be alright over the break?”

Sirius shrugged. “I’ll manage. Just gonna try to avoid my family as much as possible this time.” He rested his head on James' shoulder. “But if things get rough, I’ll send an owl.”

“Sounds like a plan,” James replied, gently nudging Sirius off of him as he stood up. “I’m going to see if I can find the food trolley.” With that, he slipped out of the compartment, ensuring his wallet was still tucked in his back pocket.

As he wandered through the train, lost in thought, James was suddenly startled by an unpleasantly familiar, oily voice. “What are you doing on this side of the train, Potter?” Snape sneered, appearing beside him. “Don’t you have your little gang of misfits to tend to?”

James bristled at the insult but gave the other boy a condescending grin before firing back. “Snivellus! If I’d known you’d be lurking around, I would’ve brought along a skillet. Your hair could probably grease a dozen pans!” Snape's scowl deepened, and he reached for his wand, but before James could react, Lily Evans appeared in the doorway, casting a warning glance at both of them.

Her presence surprised them both, and while James lifted both hands in the air in mock surrender, eyebrows raised in feigned surprise, Snape was frozen in place, wand pointed directly at a seemingly unarmed victim.

“Sev, what–”

“I can explain–” he started, dropping his arm and turning to her, but she firmly cut him off. 

“Just get back in the compartment,” she instructed him, gesturing back at it aggressively. 

“Yeah, Snivellus, you’d best listen to Evans and put that wand away before you hurt yourself,” James quipped, a smirk playing on his lips as Snape huffed and turned away, slamming the door of the compartment behind him. Lily's unfriendly glare remained fixed on James as she crossed her arms, her expression questioning.

"What are you doing here anyways, Potter?" she asked, her tone cool and distant.

James shrugged nonchalantly. "Just looking for the trolley witch, but clearly I’m looking on the wrong end of the train."

"Clearly," Lily confirmed, her voice tinged with sarcasm. "Don’t you have friends to get back to?"

"If you mean the three sleeping lumps in my compartment, then yes," James replied, earning a snicker from Lily.

“Remus has been quite knackered lately, hasn’t he?” Lily asked suddenly, quickly causing the atmosphere around them to grow heavy with concern. 

"He has. He'll be okay though," James reassured her, offering a small smile that softened Lily's glare ever so slightly. 

"Have a nice break, Potter. Happy Christmas," she added, her tone slightly warmer than it had been just before.

While he didn't celebrate Christmas, James appreciated the sentiment, and smiled back. "You too," he replied quietly before excusing himself and making his way back to his compartment. Though he never found the food trolley, he settled back into his seat between Sirius and Peter, feeling the warmth of their presence as he rested his head on Sirius' shoulder and drifted off to sleep.

As the train's whistle heralded their arrival at King's Cross, the four boys stirred from their slumber, greeted by the hum of excitement emanating from neighboring compartments. Around them, students bustled about, gathering their belongings in preparation for the transition from the cozy confines of the train to the chilly embrace of London's wintry weather.

Stepping onto the platform, the quartet exchanged promises of keeping in touch, their voices mingling with the ambient sounds of bustling travelers. James swiftly located his parents, who stood beneath a brightly lit alcove along with Mrs. Pettigrew, shielded from the cold drizzle of rain that veiled the station.

Before dashing off to reunite with his family, James stole a backward glance, catching sight of Sirius being whisked away from the platform by the Black family's grimy-looking house elf, Kreacher. Regulus trailed behind, the brothers’ likenesses almost indistinguishable as they obediently followed the elf's lead onto the apparition platform, vanishing from sight with a sharp crack.

He watched Remus reuniting with his father, a mirror image of the older man, save for the signs of aging, Lyall. A small smile graced Remus' face as he waved, while Lyall offered James a brief nod before redirecting his attention to his son. Together, they departed from the platform, presumably to reunite with Hope Lupin, who no doubt, was waiting eagerly on the other side.

As James watched their departure, his thoughts drifted to the letters he knew there’d been between Madame Pomfrey and his own parents regarding his vision "issues," as he’d dubbed them in his mind. He couldn't help but wonder what the matron had told Remus' parents about their son's own issues, and how they would be coping with the situation. If the level of concern among the Marauders was any indication, it was likely to be a topic of considerable weight for the Lupin family this holiday.

Relieved to see their friends were safely on their way home, James clapped Peter on the shoulder, and together, they ran over to greet their parents, ready for the long-awaited holiday. Trunks in tow, they navigated through the bustling station, the familiar sights and sounds of London welcoming him back. As the two boys approached, the adults’ faces lit up at the sight of their sons.

"James!" his mother exclaimed, rushing forward to envelop him in a tight hug. "Oh, how we've missed you!" Peter’s mom seemed to be feeling the same way, only with a great deal more smothering and tears. 

James returned Effie’s embrace, feeling a surge of warmth from her arms. "I've missed you too, Mum," he replied, his voice filled with genuine affection.

His father stepped forward, a proud smile on his face. "Good to see you, Beta," he said, clapping James on the shoulder. "How was your term?"

With a grin, James launched into tales of his adventures at Hogwarts, and as they made their way through the platform, he recounted thrilling Quidditch matches, amusing pranks pulled with his friends, and the challenges of his classes. All the anxieties and unrest he’d been feeling disappeared as soon as he saw their faces, and it was as if nothing bad had even happened at school. His parents listened with rapt attention, their expressions a mix of pride and amusement.

The Potters bid the Pettigrews goodbye, and apparated home, where the prospect of his mother's homemade cooking filled James with delight. Even though traveling side-along left him slightly nauseous every time, once inside, the familiar sights and sounds of home welcomed him back, wrapping him up in cozy warmth and quiet luxury that came with being a Potter. The air was filled with the aroma of Effie’s home-cooked meals and the faint crackle of logs burning in the fireplace. Soft lamplight bathed the room in a golden glow, casting dancing shadows across the walls.

Large, soft rugs covered the polished wooden floors, and oversized armchairs and sofas filled the living room. A piano stood in one corner, gleaming in the soft light, while shelves lined with leather-bound books wrapped around the room, and family photos hung on the walls. James left his shoes by the door and walked through the front room into the kitchen, where a big farmhouse table awaited the family's first meal back together. The three Potters sat at the corner nearest to the stove, where over dinner, James regaled his parents with more stories, laughter filling the air as he caught his parents up on everything he’d forgotten to write home about. 

James felt a sense of contentment wash over him. Although he was already missing his fellow Marauders, at home, surrounded by his family, was where he belonged, and he couldn't imagine a better way to spend the winter break.

Fleamont and Effie relished having James back home. With both of them semi-retired from their respective jobs at Sleekeazy's and St. Mungo’s, they had ample time to spend together as a family during the holiday. They had received Madam Pomfrey’s letter in November, prompting some concern about James' vision, but they chose to hold off on discussing it, not wanting to dampen the joyful mood of having him home. That didn't mean they weren't watching.  

That first evening at dinner, James knocked over a full glass of water to his left, quickly apologizing with an, "Oops! Sorry, didn't see that there." Fleamont swiftly remedied the spill with his wand, a routine they would soon become well-versed in. Effie, however, saw how frustrated he seemed over the minor mishap, and had the feeling that there was more to it than met the eye. This led to further, discreet observations of James over the next few days, where she scrutinized his behavior more intently than she ever had before.

While James' behavior might not have seemed alarming to outsiders, his parents couldn't ignore the small yet inexplicable changes they had noticed in him since August. His clumsiness, typical during his growth spurts, had escalated beyond what she, as a healer, considered to be normal. Although his recent growth spurt had left his limbs sticking out from clothes that fit him perfectly just months before, it was no excuse for some of the new behaviors he seemed to have developed over the past four months. As James ran around the familiar halls of their home, she noticed that he would hold his arms slightly out at his sides, a subtle adjustment she doubted he’d even noticed, and how when they played games together around the fireplace, he would hold the cards extremely close to his face, right up to his nose, and take a second to squint at the card before continuing to play. He was tripping over things that had always been there, clipping a hip on furniture and checking a shoulder on the corners of the halls. 

While James appeared slightly less assured of himself inside the their home, his confidence soared in the air. When Peter joined him for a flying session a few days into the break, James displayed his usual competence, effortlessly catching the Quaffle and maneuvering through the sky with transfigured goggles securely in place. His performance provided his parents with a reassuring contrast to the accident-prone mess he seemed to be inside.

As the time passed without James broaching the topic, the Potters waited patiently, hoping he would open up about whatever was troubling him, whispering to each other in Hindi when they thought he wouldn’t notice. However, he remained silent on the topic through the beginning of the break, and so they decided to broach the subject one evening, after dinner. However, they didn’t have to wait that long. In the early morning hours of the day they’d decided to speak to him, they were startled awake by a loud thud followed by James' pained cry. 

“Effie, did you hear that?” Fleamont's hand instinctively reached for his glasses and wand on the nightstand, flicking on the light as Effie hastily wrapped a robe around herself and followed him out of the room, urgency palpable in her steps. The soft glow of Effie's wand illuminated the lamps in the corridor one by one as they hurried towards James' bedroom, casting eerie shadows against the walls. Upon reaching James' room, they found him sitting on the floor, looking dazed and holding a hand over his head. Although Effie's heart skipped a beat at the sight of her son in distress, her healer instincts kicked in right away.

"James, darling, what happened?" Effie asked, her voice laced with concern. She transfigured a stray sock into a makeshift cool pack, and with gentle hands, pressed it to the spot he'd been holding. Fleamont lowered himself to the floor with a weary groan and creaky knees, resting a comforting hand on James' back.

“I’m sorry, it's too dark, I can hardly see anything right now," James said to them, getting a little worked up, breathing fast. "I got all turned around-I can't find the door!” 

“You can’t see anything because it’s dark, Jamie?” Fleamont asked calmly, and even though there had been some light coming through the windows, and from the lights on in the hall, James nodded, sniffing. Effie and Fleamont looked at each other over James’ head with concern. 

“I opened the door but missed it and walked right into the frame." James felt himself getting teary, and rather than continue to try and act grown up, and hold it together, the mix of pain, tiredness, and embarrassment were all too much for him to handle, and he allowed himself to break. 

Effie did her best to comfort him, and hold him, but he was getting too tall for her to do so anymore. Between both of his parents they walked him down the stairs and into the kitchen, where they could clean up the cut and figure out what to do next. Fleamont's worry deepened as he inspected the red mark on James' forehead, which was thankfully no longer bleeding. Once James was calm, and there was chai going around the table, Fleamont sat down next to him, hands pressed firmly around the mug Effie had prepared. 

"We can't ignore this any longer," he said, exchanging a glance with Effie. "We are going to St. Mungo's. We can’t have you in a state like this at home, Beta… at school it would be so much worse if something like this happened you know. You could be lying in a corridor somewhere for hours and nobody would hear you calling.” James hadn’t thought about that, but as his father said it, he realized it could very well be true. 

“Well, what are we waiting for then,” Effie said, waving her wand and clearing away the mugs, “let’s get going then.”  

James stayed in the kitchen, still a bit stunned from the early morning’s events, while his parents moved briskly around the house, hastily gathering essentials and leaving everything in place. Uncharacteristically efficient, the Potters were dressed and ready to leave in a matter of minutes.

As they hurried through the fireplace, James couldn't help but feel a bit foolish at their appearance in the lobby of St. Mungo's. James, still in his rumpled pajamas and hastily donned shoes, held a cold pack to his face, while his mother stood beside him, her robes pristine, her hair braided but still wearing her sleep bonnet. Meanwhile his father, still in his night robes, had thrown on a long wool coat typically reserved for chilly mornings at the office. Despite their comical appearance, Effie wasted no time in utilizing her connections at St. Mungo's to ensure they were seen promptly by a doctor, and within minutes, they were ushered into an examination room. 

Effie's interference, no doubt, had secured them a private room in a quieter wing of the hospital. Soft, white light emanated from a floating orb nestled in the corner, casting a gentle glow that illuminated the room well without overwhelming its occupants. It was furnished practically: a long twin bed adorned with crisp linens on one side, while a sturdy metal nightstand stood nearby, its surface gleaming. On the opposite side, a small desk and chair provided a functional workspace for the attending healer. Two comfortable-looking chairs had been thoughtfully arranged by the bedside, so with James comfortably situated on the bed, his parents took their places in the chairs, their expressions flitting between concern and reassurance. As James closed his eyes, drifting off to his parents’ hushed conversation in a language he didn’t completely understand, a sharp rap echoed through the room, signaling the arrival of the attending healer.

"Hello Effie, hello Potters," the healer said as he came into the room, patting Effie’s shoulder in greeting while sending a friendly nod to James and Fleamont. "What can I do for you all this early Thursday morning?"

"Thank you for coming, Healer Dedworth," Effie replied, her tone conveying a mix of relief and concern.

"None of that Healer Dedworth’," he joked. "That was my father. Call me Alvin."

Effie continued, "Well, Alvin, James had a bit of an accident this morning, as you can see." She reached for her son’s hand, which he took quickly. While usually feeling too old to hold his mother's hand, these were extenuating circumstances.  "He missed the door and hit the wall trying to make his way to the restroom."

Alvin motioned to James to move his hand away from the rapidly swelling lump on his head, studying it for a moment before looking back at Effie. "Effie, this seems like an injury you’d be more than able to handle yourself without bringing him in. Just seems like your typical lump on the head."

Effie nodded, swiftly healing the injury with a wave of her wand. James touched the spot, feeling the miraculous healing, but still uneasy about the incident.

"The reason I didn’t want to heal it up right away was that he said it was so dark he couldn’t see," Effie explained. "And to be perfectly honest, Alvin, there was definitely enough light to see in that room. I was worried if he didn’t come in here clearly having hurt himself that you all would not take me seriously when I said he needed to be looked at."

Alvin nodded thoughtfully. "I can understand why you would do that, Effie, but no need to worry about that with me. Let’s just move onto the real issue then." He turned to James, addressing him directly for the first time. "Could you describe to me what you’ve been feeling, young man?"

“Well,” James began, feeling even more exposed than he had in Madame Pomfrey’s office only a few months ago, “I just felt like I was getting a bit more clumsy, you know, knocking into things, misjudging how far something was from me, just from growing, you know.” He gestured to his wrists poking out from the sleeves of his pajama shirt for more proof, and Alvin nodded. “But once I was in school, I started noticing more that my eyes hurt a lot, usually from taking notes when it was kinda dark or shadowy in the classroom, and it is getting harder to keep up in Quidditch tracking the Quaffle when it's later in the day and starting to get dark.”

Alvin listened intently, his expression focused and concerned. “I see,” he replied, jotting down notes as James spoke. “And your mum mentioned having difficulty seeing at night?”

James nodded. “At the end of September is when I really noticed for the first time. I can hardly see anything, even if I’m wearing my glasses in the dark. It’s scary not knowing where I am at all, even if it’s somewhere I’ve been all my life.”

Alvin took a moment to look over his notes before addressing the Potters. “I don’t like to speculate without proof, so I won’t, but you were right to bring him in. From what he's describing, it doesn’t seem to me like his glasses are the problem here, so I would like to run some tests, and consult with some of my colleagues, with your permission, of course,” he said, the last bit obviously meant for James’ parents.

Effie and Fleamont exchanged a glance before Effie spoke up. “You have our full permission, Alvin. Please, do whatever you think is necessary.”

With their consent, Alvin nodded and swiftly left the room to gather the necessary equipment for the tests. 

As soon as he was sure the healer was out of earshot, Fleamont quickly turned to face James. “Beta, you should’ve written to us that this was happening! We could’ve done something sooner–” his father began to admonish him, but his mum quickly interrupted.

“All that matters is that we are here now, okay?” Effie said sternly. “Yes, Jamie should’ve told us, but let’s just focus on moving forward and seeing what can be done.”

The healer returned after another few minutes of waiting, accompanied by a young medi-witch, Trainee Sato. Alvin introduced her to the Potters and James, explaining that she would be assisting him during the testing process.

“Nothing to worry about with these tests, James,” Alvin reassured him. “Just answer as truthfully and accurately as you can, and we will figure out exactly what is going on.”

The lights dimmed, and James sat nervously on the edge of the examination bed, his parents sitting on either side of him. His stomach was a pit of anxiety, but he swallowed the knot in his throat, and indicated to them that he was ready to begin. 

"Alright, James," Alvin said, his tone gentle yet authoritative. "We're going to conduct a few tests to assess your vision, and the range of your perception." He waved his wand, summoning a Pensieve from a nearby shelf. "We'll begin by reviewing your memories related to your symptoms. This will help us understand exactly what’s been going on, through your own eyes."

James watched with fascination as memories swirled within the Pensieve, forming vivid scenes of him struggling during classes and Quidditch practice. After a couple minutes of this, and both healers taking notes, the pensive was packed away, and Trainee Sato brought out a large chart. 

"The symbols on this chart will adapt depending on what you're seeing,” Alvin explained. “They'll change shape or color in response to your focus and concentration, giving us insight into what your eyes are able to process. So, if you don’t mind removing your glasses, we will begin!" As James stared at the chart, and the lights in the room dimmed and brightened, the symbols shifted and changed in response to his eyes’ perception. 

"Now, we'll move on to this enchanted instrument," Alvin said once they were through, sending Sato away with the chart and producing a gleaming device from his bag. "This will provide us with a clear view of any abnormalities or fluctuations in your retinal structure- or in other words, how the pathways of your eyes are doing in connecting what they see to your brain."With precision, Alvin scanned James' eyes, the instrument emitting soft whirs and clicks as it did its job.

"Finally," the healer said, "we'll perform what we call a visual field test." He conjured a series of crystals, arranging them in the space around James in a precise pattern.

"You'll need to stare straight ahead while lights are flashed at in your visual field," he instructed. "Please hold up a hand when you see a light flash. This will help us detect any areas of reduced vision or blind spots." James nodded, feeling a surge of determination as he focused on the task at hand. He signaled whenever he spotted a light, his heart pounding with anxiety over doing it right.

As the tests concluded, Alvin nodded curtly, brain already moving towards the next step. "Excellent, James. Now, we'll analyze the results and determine the best course of action moving forward. Let’s set another appointment for this afternoon." Trainee Sato gave another little bow before leaving the room behind her boss. 

Feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside him, James slowly pushed himself up from the bed, his legs heavy with exhaustion over the eventful morning. His parents followed, engaging him in silly, light conversations as they made their way back through the corridors of St. Mungo's. As they finally reached the reception area and prepared to Floo back home, James couldn't help but feel relieved. Despite the anxiety over there being something wrong, it was a huge weight off of his chest to no longer carry the weight of this secret alone.

Stepping through the Floo and into the warmth of their living room, James felt a wave of exhaustion crash over him. It was only 11 a.m., but he felt like he'd been awake for days. Before he could think twice, he found himself collapsing into his mother’s arms, tears flowing as he buried his face in his her shoulder. It was a release of pent-up emotions, a cathartic moment of vulnerability in the safety of his parents' embrace. After standing there for a moment they moved to the couch, where the family sat until James drifted off to sleep, worries melting away in favor of rest.