Eclipsed

In the days following New Year's, the atmosphere at the Potter household had become increasingly tense.  Kreacher's abrupt appearance to whisk Sirius away had left them with unfinished business to discuss, and James was purposely ignoring his letters, as well as those from the rest of the Marauders. His impending return to Hogwarts loomed over the Potter family like a dark cloud, bringing with it an important conversation that needed to be had. 

Since the initial diagnosis, Fleamont and Effie had been hiding away having whispered discussions, often in Hindi in an attempt to shield James from the very sensitive nature of those conversations, particularly since they did involve making major changes in his life. It was so difficult to find a delicate balance, addressing their son's right to a normal life while also dealing with the harsh realities of the situation. 

Tensions continued simmering underneath the calm facade his parents tried to maintain until James, tired of the feeling out of the loop, found himself eavesdropping outside the kitchen as his parents engaged in yet another hushed debate. His name was mentioned several times, and with a sharp twinge of annoyance, James pushed open the batwing doors and strode into the room, disrupting their conversation.

The sudden intrusion caught his parents off guard, shifting from concern to feigned cheerfulness in an instant, greeting him with obviously forced smiles. 

"Good morning, Beta, how did you sleep?" Effie greeted him, her voice tinged with the remnants of tears, which she was hastily wiping away. Fleamont stood nearby, his grip on the chair's back betraying his unease, his expression carefully blank.

"Have you two been fighting about me?" James cut straight to the chase, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. 

"Don't be foolish–" Fleamont began, but his words were met with a scoff of disbelief from his son.

"I'm not deaf too, you know," James retorted sharply, his tone laced with bitterness. His parents stared at him, taken aback by his sudden outburst. The lights in the kitchen flickered as James’ magic became emotional. "And I’m not dumb. I can understand a lot of what you all are saying about me. I know you're talking about me going back to school."

Effie exchanged a glance with Fleamont, seeking his support before turning back to James. He nodded, and she took a deep breath, steeling herself for the difficult conversation ahead. "I'mm so sorry, darling, we just didn't want to make this more upsetting for you than it has been already," she explained gently, her fingers fidgeting with the end of her braid. "We're just not sure if going back to school is the right decision."

"What!?!" James exclaimed, his disbelief evident in his voice.

"I know it seems quite shocking, and... upsetting, but please just think about it, Beta. As things get harder for you, being in a place like Hogwarts could be very dangerous," Effie reasoned, her voice soft but firm. James opened his mouth to protest, but before he could speak, Fleamont interjected.

"James, enough," he snapped, his tone unusually sharp and commanding. "Just sit, and listen to your mother, please."

Taken aback by his father's abrupt reprimand, James wilted, defiance waning as he sullenly made his way to the chair across from Fleamont.

"Jamie, look," Effie said, ducking her head and searching for her son's gaze. "There are moving staircases, people hexing each other in the corridors, and dangerous ingredients just flying around... Albus, with all due respect, is always hiding away who knows what in any abandoned classroom or broom cupboard." She paused, looking to Fleamont before continuing. "We are just worried about your safety. What happens if you are playing Quidditch and you don’t see the Bludger coming at you and you get knocked off the broom, hundreds of feet in the air?"

"Not to mention," Fleamont added, his voice hard, "all this pureblood, blood supremacy nonsense happening. You know, someone at work told me the other day that that nut job Riddle, or Voldemort, whatever he’s going by now, is already recruiting kids from Hogwarts to join his lunatic society. What if one of those fools comes up behind you and seriously hurts you? If we let you go back, and something happened to you, we couldn’t bear it, Beta. It would kill us. You are all we have."

James kept his eyes resolutely fixed on the floor, tears beginning to spring up in his eyes. Deep down, he knew they were right, but in his anger and frustration, he couldn't bring himself to admit it.

"Can we at least see what we can do before just giving up?" he finally asked, lifting his gaze to meet his fathers’. He needed to know that they hadn't resigned him to this lonely fate without a fight.

His parents looked tired, and old. For the first time, he noticed the streaks of gray in his mother's dark braid, and deeper wrinkles in his father's brow. It's because of me, he thought to himself, a pang of guilt tightening his chest.

Effie exchanged a glance with Fleamont, her expression softening. "I can write to Minerva, see if she would be willing to come for tea," she suggested tentatively, seeking her husband's approval.

Fleamont nodded, albeit reluctantly. "It's worth hearing what she has to say," he agreed, sounding a bit unsure. "But let's not get our hopes up, James. It’s best to be prepared for any outcome."

Effie turned back to James, her eyes filled with compassion. "We just don't want you to get your hopes up. But I think you are justified in wanting to explore the options before we make a final decision."

James nodded, a flicker of hope igniting within him. Even the possibility of a discussion with Professor McGonagall was a sign that he wouldn’t lose everything. 

The following afternoon, James and his parents bustled around the house, making last-minute preparations for Professor McGonagall's visit. Though they hadn't specified exactly why they'd invited her over, health concerns had been mentioned, prompting her to invite Madame Pomfrey along as well. Effie straightened up the quilts draped over the couch, ensuring they looked inviting and cozy. Fleamont carefully stacked the board games, usually scattered around the rug, tucking them neatly away in the bookcase. Unsure of what to do with himself, James hovered by the fireplace, caught between anticipation and anxiety. 

As the clock ticked closer to 3:00, a faint dinging noise echoed through the room, signaling the arrival of their guests via the fireplace. Within moments, Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey came stepping through the Floo. 

It was surreal for James to see the two witches standing in his home, dressed so casually that he hardly recognized them. Professor McGonagall's typically stern demeanor seemed softened by her long maroon skirt and cable knit, soft-looking robes, her hair released from its tight bun and held loosely in a clip at the back of her head. Madame Pomfrey, too, was almost unrecognizable without her signature light blue Hogwarts healer's robes. Instead, she wore a long cream robe over a wooly pink jumper and a modest brown skirt, hair curling loosely above her shoulders, looking barely older than some of the seventh years. 

"Thank you both for coming," Fleamont welcomed them warmly as they entered, dusting off their robes. "Please, have a seat." He gestured towards the couch, while Effie swept into the kitchen to grab the family tea set.

Effie returned moments later, a tray laden with teacups, scones, and sandwiches balanced delicately in her hands. With practiced ease, she served their guests, ensuring they had everything they needed before taking her own seat.

"Thank you very much for having us, Mrs. Potter," McGonagall acknowledged gratefully, taking a sip of her tea. "But I know we aren’t here for a social call."

Effie smiled warmly. "It's Effie, please, and yes, Minerva, that is why we invited you over." She reached for a stack of pamphlets on the coffee table, passing them to McGonagall. "We did take James to St. Mungo’s, as you recommended,” she said, referring to the letter that Madame Pomfrey had sent them, “and he has been diagnosed with a condition, choroideremia, and we aren’t sure if returning to Hogwarts will be the safest option for him." The two witches’ faces remained carefully neutral; James guessed they were accustomed to hearing surprising news all the time and had probably practiced relaxing their eyebrows and keeping their mouths shut. 

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as the adults conversed around him. Madame Pomfrey seemed particularly engrossed in the pamphlets, her brow furrowing as she read the information, while McGonagall engaged in a serious conversation with James' parents, absorbing every detail they provided about the prognosis and potential challenges ahead.

"There will probably be some decrease in his peripheral vision by the end of the term," Effie explained, having been talking for quite some time about their worries over James returning to school. Fleamont nodded in agreement, his expression solemn. "And hopefully not by very much, since it was already not great to begin with, but the vision he does have will probably continue deteriorating as well." 

McGonagall nodded thoughtfully, her gaze shifting to James, who sat up straighter under her scrutiny.

"Mr. Potter, how are you feeling about all this?" she inquired gently.

James took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping. "Honestly, not great," he admitted, sinking back into the armchair. "Please don’t get me wrong, I am very grateful for my parents, and that I’m not dying or anything worse, but if I lose my vision and school, I think I'd probably lose it up here," he said, gesturing with his eyebrows to mean his brain. 

"I think I would too," McGonagall replied evenly, causing James to crack a bit of a smile. She exchanged a short glance with Madame Pomfrey before turning to address James' parents.

"I don’t see why James should be denied his education over a condition he has no control over," she stated firmly. "He has just as much of a right to learn safely, play sports, and be with other young witches and wizards as anyone else."

Effie looked torn, her brow furrowing in concern. "Minerva, that all sounds wonderful. It really does, and Monty and I want that for James too, really," she began, reaching for her husband's hand. "It just seems like it would be too much trouble to make it work, and while we have complete faith in you all, we just worry that whatever the school is able to do wouldn’t be enough to keep him safe."

McGonagall's lips curved into an enigmatic smirk. "I’d say Hogwarts has had some practice these past few years in accommodating even the most unique health needs, wouldn’t you say, Poppy?"

Madame Pomfrey caught on to her implication, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she focused intently on the rug pattern. "Yes, Minerva, I’d have to agree. We’ve been able to handle even the furriest little problems and kept everyone quite safe," she remarked, meeting James’ gaze and shooting him a conspiratorial wink.

His eyes widened in realization, excitement bubbling as he grasped the implications of their words.

"So you’re saying it’s possible then?" he burst out eagerly.

McGonagall smiled warmly at him. "I’m saying that we will do our very best to ensure you have the full Hogwarts experience, as safely as you can, as long as your parents are on board."

James turned to his parents, his eyes pleading. "Please? Mum, Dad?" 

Effie, whose mind was already made up, glanced at Fleamont, who remained silent, his gaze fixed on his teacup.

"Monty, what do you say?" she pressed, unsure of what he’d say.

After a moment of contemplation, Fleamont finally spoke, his tone severe and stern. "You will follow every single rule your professors and healers make for you, okay? No more of this sneaking around at night, causing trouble, no more wild stunts, none of it- do you hear me Beta?"

James nodded vigorously, a grin spreading across his face. "I will, I will! Thank you!" he exclaimed, leaping up from his seat, nearly knocking over a teacup (which was saved by McGonagall’s cat-like reflexes), to envelop his father in a tight hug.

"I won’t let you down, I promise!" he vowed, overjoyed that he would be returning to school, and to some semblance of normalcy at last. 

James was thrilled at the prospect of returning to Hogwarts, however the joy was tamped down by the fact that the rules surrounding his safety were going to be enforced rather strictly. Aside from the more obvious ones, such as the need to have a buddy accompany him through the corridors, especially after dark, and the necessity of regular check-ins with Madame Pomfrey, there were additional measures that he found surprising. One unexpected inclusion was that at the start of the following term, he would be dropping Divination, and introducing a private lesson on his timetable, which focused on mobility and orientation, to teach him to navigate with low vision. There was a whole list of tips for living with someone with a visual impairment that he was meant to discuss with his roommates, which he was nervous to bring up to them. Additionally, as the condition progressed, he was required to use the assistive tools recommended by Madame Pomfrey or Alvin, which he hoped would be a moot point for the time being. The thought of everyone being aware of his condition before he’d really come to terms with it was daunting. 

James' primary concern, though, was Quidditch. Following her tea with the Potters, Professor McGonagall reached out to her contacts in the British and Irish Quidditch League, seeking advice on accommodations or magical interventions that would enable James to continue playing safely. After hearing what they thought would be the most appropriate and fair accommodations, McGonagall and Professor Hooch collaborated on inventive applications. One such involved special goggles with prismatic lenses, which would bend and reflect light towards James's central field of vision, where it remained the strongest. Another measure included the mandatory use of a helmet, equipped with an auditory alert system, designed to signal James whenever a ball approached from one of his blind spots, so he could either dodge or catch, depending on what it was. Hooch also committed to scheduling practices and Gryffindor team matches during daylight hours, which would be safest for James due to the whole ‘night blindness’. The effort McGonagall put into securing James’ return to school, and into preserving as much of a normal life as possible, was so generous, and he knew he was exceptionally lucky to have her as his head of house. 

The night before he was set to leave, James sat with his parents for dinner, glasses of water safely out of his elbows' reach, and a spread of his favorite foods on the table in front of them. While his parents did their best to put on brave faces, it was clear to him that they were worried about what would happen when he returned to school the following day. 

“Mum, Dad, please… Can we try to enjoy tonight? I’ll be good when I’m at school, I’ll follow every rule, promise! Even though that is completely unlike me, and you’ll probably miss all the letters home from Professor McGonagall… I don’t want you to be so worried,” James pleaded, his voice filled with sincerity as he looked between his parents.

Effie paused, wiping her hands before reaching for James'. "Darling, we will always worry. Even without this happening to you, we would still be worried," she said gently, before continuing a little mistier than she was before. "You are our only son, and we always worked so that you could have an easier life than your father and I did."

Fleamont nodded in agreement. "You'll understand when you are a parent, James, that you will always want to give everything to your children, you will always want to protect them," he said, his voice thick with emotion. He took off his glasses, and wiped a hand across his eyes. "And to know that you are going back, and there is nothing we can do to take this away from you, or to protect you from so far away ? It is so hard… so very hard, Beta."

James felt a pang of guilt wash over him, knowing that worry over his condition was causing his parents so much pain. Swallowing hard, he met their gazes stoically. "I never wanted to make you all feel that way. I'm sorry," he said, his voice wavering slightly. "But I know how much you love me and I hope you know that I am so grateful for everything you've done for me and always will do for me. I am who I am because of you. I never give up, I never let anyone get the best of me, and to me, if I didn’t go back to school? That, to me, would mean giving up."

He hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words to express his feelings. "I don’t want the way I remember being with you to be like this… sad and scared… It’s just weird to me, you know?" he confessed, but upon seeing his parent’s wide-eyed expressions, he paused. “Sorry, was that too depressing?” 

Effie's laughter broke the somber mood, her eyes twinkling with affection as she looked at her son. "Ahh Jamie, what a way to phrase it. That’s our boy, isn’t it, Monty?" she chuckled, her laughter infectious as it spread to Fleamont and then finally to James.

Although he knew they were putting up a front for his sake, James allowed himself to believe it was real, that everything was normal, eating his favorite foods and playing games on the soft living room rug, drinking cocoa and being kissed good night by his mum. The next morning would be the beginning of a new reality for James, something he wasn’t sure he was ready to face. But in that moment, laying in his childhood bed beneath worn, handmade quilts, he was content to bask in the warmth of home and family.