Eclipsed

The next morning found Peter and James back on the Hogwarts Express, settled comfortably in their usual compartment. The Potters had insisted on them all arriving a bit early, and helped get the boys situated before heading back to Godric’s Hollow with Peter’s mum. With ten minutes to departure, Sirius strode in, his demeanor as cool as ever, dressed in expensively-tailored day-robes and his hair neatly shorn, as it usually was after a predictably terrible visit home to Grimmauld Place.

"Hello, Peter," Sirius greeted the shorter boy with a nod before turning his attention to James. "Potter," he said cooly, clearly upset over James’ lack of response to his many owls. James met his gaze evenly, dread pooling in his stomach, while Peter watched the exchange, realizing there was something he’d missed.

"Is everything alright, Sirius? James?" Peter asked. When neither boy responded, Peter huffed, clearly frustrated. "Come on! What’s happened that nobody’s wanted to fill me in on?"

James let out a loud sigh, realizing that the truth couldn't be avoided any longer, not with Peter's hurt expression and Sirius' guarded demeanor. With a resigned nod, James made a decision.

No time like the present, right? he thought to himself. 

"Just some news I've been meaning to tell you all... but I’ll wait until Remus arrives,” he said, a knot forming in his throat. “I don’t want to repeat myself."

Peter seemed content to accept James' explanation, but Sirius remained stoic and judgmental, his expression giving away nothing of his inner thoughts besides the fact that they were angry. As they settled into an uneasy silence, waiting for Remus to arrive, the tension in the compartment became palpable. 

Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat, shooting glances between James and Sirius, trying to decipher the unspoken tension between them. Despite it being only mere minutes that passed, each second felt like an eternity, with James's anxiety practically radiating off him, Sirius's icy demeanor, and Peter's growing confusion making the atmosphere in the compartment heavy.

Remus boarded the train as the whistle blew, dragging his trunk and moving a bit slowly after having spent the rough winter moon without Madam Pomfrey and the hospital wing’s resources to recover. Although it had been nearly a week since, his hip had shifted out of place during the change back, and he’d only been able to walk longer distances for a day or so. Ready to take a very long nap on the way back to Scotland, he prepped a smile before sliding the compartment door open, sliding the trunk through first. 

"Morning, everyone," he said cheerfully, though his smile faltered slightly as he caught sight of the unsmiling faces of his three friends. "Is everything alright?"

James’ eyes flickered away, Sirius staring at him for a moment before finally speaking up. "We were just waiting for you to arrive, Remus," he said, his tone harsh. "There's something we need to discuss."

James looked back up, right at him, and Remus felt his heart stop. 

“Have I done something wrong? I don’t even–” He felt himself getting dizzy with anxiety, and Peter quickly grabbed his wrist and pulled him down to sit next to him. 

“Re, it’s not about you, you’re fine.” Peter let him take a few breaths, then continued. “James has something he needs to tell us, right James?” As his heart rate came back down, Remus looked to James, and nodded, signaling to him to begin. 

"I received some news over the holidays," James began, his voice steady despite the nerves churning in his stomach. "It turns out I have a condition called choroideremia."

Sirius’ steely expression softened in an instant, and before any of them could ask, James continued. “It pretty much means that I am losing my vision. For now I am okay, but the healers reckon that by the end of Seventh Year it will mostly be gone.” 

Peter's eyes widened in shock, his mouth opening in surprise. "James, why didn't you say anything sooner?" he exclaimed, his concern evident in his voice.

James gave Peter a sad smile, reaching out to place a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I just found out, right before New Years, and I didn't want to ruin the holidays for everyone," he admitted. “But now that we're back at school, it’s gonna be hard to hide… and you three are like my brothers. You deserve to know what’s going on.” He then turned to Sirius. "I'm sorry I didn’t reply to your letters, really. I know it’s important to you, to hear back, but I just didn’t know what to say."

Sirius's response surprised him, as he scooched over and enveloped James in a tight hug. "It’s okay, I forgive you," Sirius reassured him. "I probably wouldn't have replied to me either."  He released James, and turned to the other two boys in the compartment before speaking. "What can we do to help?"

"I guess I don’t want you all to think I’m weird, or treat me differently, for starters," James admitted. 

Peter shrugged, breaking the tension with his trademark nonchalance. "It couldn’t be weirder than Remus turning into a you-know-what every month, or Sirius’ cuddle addiction, right?" His words elicited a groan from Remus and a loud protest from Sirius, causing James to laugh in spite of himself.

"What about your loud snores, Pete?" Remus quickly interjected, "We can't forget about those now, could we?" After the laughter died down, James sighed.

"I guess you're right about that," he agreed, "but in all honesty, there are some things my parents and Madam Pomfrey have told me I had to talk to you all about, so that I could come back to school at all. Most of them don’t exactly apply now so I'm not sure if we really need to go through them all, but I guess I’ll go through some of the list, just to get it out of the way.” James pulled a crumpled up piece of parchment out of the pocket of his soft robes, unfolding it and smoothing it over a couple times. 

The other three boys were uncharacteristically quiet and calm as they waited, caught between wanting to show James that everything was going to be okay and being a bit unsure what to say themselves. 

James took a deep breath, voice steady, but with an insecurity and vulnerability that the boys weren’t accustomed to hearing from him. 

"So, um, I think the most important thing for me is, if I need help with something, let me ask, don’t just assume for me, okay?" His gaze swept over his friends, and they all nodded in solemn agreement.

"Of course, mate," Sirius replied, “you’re the boss, as always!” James smiled at the joke, and continued, glancing down at the list in his hands. "Pomfrey mentioned keeping the dorm tidy, so I don't trip over anything I can't see, especially in the dark. And, uh, it's probably a good idea not to move my stuff without letting me know, you know, for the same reason."

Remus, Sirius, and Peter agreed, though they couldn’t help but tease Peter for his messiness in the process.

“No more crisps packets flying around the dorm now, thank Merlin!” Remus exclaimed, and Peter blushed with embarrassment and laughter as James and Sirius celebrated the end of their messy friend’s reign of clutter.  

"There's one more thing," James added, as the laughter died down. "My parents thought if it’s okay with you all, that we could maybe keep my bedside lamp on at night? It'll help me see where I’m going if I need to get up in the dark. That’s actually how we found out about it all- I got up at night and cracked my head open running into a wall." James’ tone was light, but they could all tell he wasn’t really ready to be joking about it.

Thinking back to that night in October, when James had been so lost in their room, Remus replied right away, his voice warm and reassuring. "That sounds perfectly reasonable, James. We can all keep our curtains drawn if we need complete darkness to sleep- no big deal!"

Sirius and Peter agreed, and with that, they were back to business as usual: planning pranks, making crass jokes, and panicking about last-minute homework that needed to be done. 

As they stepped off the train and made their way toward the waiting carriages in Hogsmeade, James and Sirius found themselves trailing behind Remus and Peter, who had caught up with the girls ahead of them. James couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude as he thought of how his friends had easily agreed to accommodate his needs into their lives. Even though he had anticipated their support, the warm feeling in his chest was blooming.

Suddenly, a shoulder bumped against his arm, and James turned to find Sirius grinning at him. It was a silent reassurance, a wordless confirmation that nothing had changed. With a shared smile, James felt better about the spring term than he had before, and hoped that the fates would be on his side.

James was genuinely surprised with how swiftly his friends were able to adjust and accommodate his needs in the dormitory. A week into the term, he marveled at the fact that he hadn't bumped into anything in their room, and even the lingering smell had improved, thanks to Peter's newfound dedication to tidiness.

However, the changes extended beyond their dormitory. His professors had been informed of his accommodations, likely by McGonagall and Pomfrey, resulting in some inconvenient adjustments to the class seating charts. James found himself relegated to the very front row in every class, with the rest of the Marauders dutifully following suit in support of their friend. While this undoubtedly benefited their overall academic performances, it severely thwarted their ability to execute classroom pranks. Nevertheless, they refused to have their mischievous spirit extinguished. As Remus put it, "We'll just have to be more strategic in our planning… and if you really think about it, this works quite well in terms of plausible deniability!"

Approaching Quidditch again was a strangely emotional experience for James. While he had navigated through practices just fine in the previous term, there was an undeniable weight to them now, knowing that his time on the pitch was finite. He hadn't expected to face this hurdle so soon in life; in his mind, he had envisioned playing Quidditch well into his old age, much like his father claimed to have done. However, reality forced him to acknowledge that Quidditch had a rapidly approaching end date. Every game, every practice session, would be precious time. 

As he strapped on his new helmet and adjusted his goggles, a mix of nervousness and excitement coursed through him. The goggles, in particular, were intriguing. Initially, James had felt a twinge of guilt, almost as if he were cheating by using them. However, upon recognizing that they offered him an opportunity to see how everyone else saw, he felt better about them, realizing that all they did was, for lack of a better term, level the playing field. Peering through the lenses, there was a slightly distorted, fisheye perspective, widening his peripheral vision

If I could hold my own without these, he mused to himself, just imagine how much better I'll be with them.

Excitement pulsing through his veins, James stepped onto the Quidditch pitch and kicked off, soaring into the air alongside his teammates. Gryffindor's first practice of 1975 commenced under the watchful eye of Madam Hooch, and James was eager to prove to her, and to himself, that he was still able to hold his own. As he ascended, James felt a rush of adrenaline coursing through him, and he couldn’t help but shout out a “woo-hoo!”, and was quickly echoed by the rest of the team. 

After spending the break feeling trapped, James reveled in the freedom he felt in the air. His helmet, charmed to alert him to approaching Bludgers, provided a sense of security, but James refused to rely solely on it. With each maneuver, he deftly dodged the balls, but relying on both instincts and the helmet’s alarm, rather than the panicked shouts of his teammates as he had last semester. 

The goggles proved to be the greatest game-changer though. Offering a slightly wider field of vision, they improved James's ability as a Chaser exponentially. He had been confident in passing the Quaffle and intercepting it mid-air, but, with the advantage of increased visual perception, his accuracy increased. The additional split-second of vision afforded by the goggles allowed him to anticipate the Quaffle's trajectory with precision, and to see his targets sooner, enabling seamless coordination with his fellow Chasers and with the goal posts. Wearing them for too long gave James a bit of a headache, so he wouldn't want to wear them all the time, but the praise from his teammates over his performance during practice and the nod of approval from Hooch were enough to make the soreness behind his eyes worth it. 

The warmth of the sun on his face and the rush of the cold winter wind against his skin, made James feel invincible, his spirit soaring. In the air, nothing could dim his joy.