Eclipsed

The following morning found the Marauders at the Hospital Wing, anxiously waiting for Pomfrey to let them into Remus's room. They arrived around 9:30, after hurriedly dropping off their trunks in the great hall and grabbing breakfast, bringing pastries for Remus to snack on later if he felt up to it. Madame Pomfrey greeted them outside the door, clearly exhausted as she wiped her hands on her apron.

“Hello, boys,” she greeted them wearily. Pomfrey, normally so composed with her tight bun and the customary Hogwarts blue healer’s robes, was a stark contrast to the vibrant, stylish young witch who’d attended tea at the Potter’s. “I’m afraid he’s not doing as well as we'd hoped this morning. It was a rough night for him, and I’m not sure he’s quite ready for visitors at the moment, let alone embark on a journey across the country.”

The energy amongst the Marauders deflated, but they weren’t ready to give up yet. 

"But we’ve brought croissants!” Peter protested, shaking the napkin containing the baked goods up towards Pomfrey's face, causing little flaky bits to flutter to the ground like confetti. “Don’t you think he'd feel better after a little treat?”

Madame Pomfrey gave him a smile, her expression softening at Peter's earnestness. “Peter, that's very thoughtful of you, but I'm not sure if that's the best idea,” she replied gently. Peter's hopeful expression faltered, and he lowered the napkin with a disappointed sigh.

“I think the wolf hit its head on something last night, which is why he doesn’t look as beat up as usual, but he came in pretty dizzy and nauseous, so most likely a concussion. I’ve had to pop his hip and shoulder back in again, and heal up a couple of scrapes that were really just from him knocking himself out. He's finally sleeping now- can’t we agree that it’s been a rough night for Remus, and that he'll recover quicker if we just leave him be?” Madame Pomfrey continued, her gaze flickering between the three boys in front of her. 

Sirius rolled his eyes, clearly indicating his opinions on that statement. “Listen, Poppy,” he began, annoying the healer right off the bat, but not without sparking a hint of amusement, not to mention curiosity over where this was going. "In theory, you're right. Giving him time to rest would likely be the best course of action. But consider the emotional toll of leaving him alone during the break. Wouldn't that just exacerbate his feelings of isolation? And it's well-documented that emotional well-being can significantly impact healing rates. Sure, he might be uncomfortable traveling home if he were to leave, but wouldn't he be even more disheartened to realize he missed the opportunity to spend time with his family because the decision was made for him? I'd say so, wouldn’t you? I'd say a depressed werewolf could be the worst type of werewolf, wouldn't you agree?"

He delivered his remarks with the audacity that only a fifteen-year-old boy with immense privilege could challenge a grown woman with. After dedicating the past few hours to tending to their friend, the healer had little patience left for Sirius or his antics. Madame Pomfrey huffed, a glimmer of the late-twenty-something she probably was, and crossed her arms at her chest. 

"Well, Mr. Black, if you're so insistent on the matter, feel free to enter and assess the situation for yourself... quietly, if you would. I believe you'll swiftly discover that he's not in any condition to travel. However, should he miraculously wake up and feel fit to go, the decision to leave will ultimately rest with Remus himself." With a sharp look, she dared any of them to sass her further, and aside from Sirius’ satisfied smirk, neither of the other boys had anything to say, guiltily slinking past her and into Remus’ room. 

Inside the room, the lights were off and the blinds drawn shut against the morning light, leaving James squinting as his eyes tried to adjust to the dim light. As warned by Pomfrey, Remus lay sound asleep on the small bed, the filtered sunlight casting golden stripes across his body. The Marauders were always surprised to see him that way; seeing Remus sleeping in the Hospital Wing made it seem like there were two different boys going by the same name. Their Remus slept widely sprawled across the mattress, with a leg or an arm flung over Sirius when he dared to creep into his bed. The Remus in the bed in front of them, though, lay motionless, almost unnaturally so, with only the gentle rise and fall of his chest indicating signs of life. His pallor was accentuated by the shadows beneath his eyes, the old scar across his right eyebrow seemed more pronounced, and the hollows of his cheeks spoke volumes over the toll that the past few transformations had taken on him, and to be honest, the stress of catching up. There was a large white bandage plastered beneath his left ear, reaching across the front of his neck and disappearing beneath the blanket towards his chest. His hands, which had been arranged on either side of him above the blankets, looked very rough, the knuckles cracked and a couple of fingernails in the process of regrowth, those remaining crusted with dried blood. The boys stood in silence for a moment, unsure what they should do. 

“Maybe Pomfrey’s onto something, mate,” James said hesitantly, not wanting to shut Sirius’ plans down outright. “He looks… pretty fucking bad, wouldn’t you say?” 

Peter quickly nodded in agreement, and Sirius bit his lip, conflicted.

“But what if he still wants to go home?” Sirius replied. “It’s not right that she’s deciding for him. He knew that the moon was this close to the break, and he still said that he wanted to go home. Who are we to tell him what to do? Just because he’s sick doesn’t mean we know better than him.”

He had point. With a resigned shrug from James, and a nervous sigh from Peter, Sirius crept towards the bed, settling quietly on the chair next to the bed. With a tenderness that never failed to surprise the other Marauders, he carefully reached out to brush Remus' hair off his forehead.

“Hey, Re, good morning,” he murmured, “how ‘bout waking up? How does that sound?” 

Remus stirred slightly, his eyelids fluttering before slowly opening. He gazed blearily at Sirius, blinking a few times and trying to focus on the face beside him.

“Beth sy'n…” he began, before swallowing thickly and starting over, “what’s going on?” Sirius swiftly fetched the glass of water from the bedside table, supporting Remus as he sat up, mindful of the bandages encircling his upper body. After taking a few long sips, Remus settled back against the pillows, watching them all suspiciously through squinting eyes. Suddenly, his eyes opened wide, and he tried to sit up. “Did somethin' happen?” he asked, clearly confused. His breaths grew shallower and quicker, signaling to them all that he was on the brink of panic, which was a Remus-standard, not a post-moon specialty.

“No, not at all, love, it’s all good, nothing’s happened,” Sirius reassured him, gently pressing a hand on his friend’s leg. Remus let out a sigh of relief, his tense muscles gradually relaxing as he attempted to steady his breathing, closing his eyes again. "That’s it, mate. Everything's fine," Sirius continued reassuringly, encouraging him to continue taking deep, calming breaths. "We're just here because it's the day we're supposed to head home for the break, remember?" 

Remus hummed in response, and Sirius shot an expectant look back at James and Peter, silently urging them to chime in.

Peter took a step closer, his expression earnest. "Yeah, Re," he began, his voice gentle. "We just want to know if you're feeling well enough to make the train home?” Remus’ eyes cracked open again. “It’s okay if you don’t. You shouldn’t feel pressured either way,” Peter reminded him, pointedly glaring at Sirius as he said it.

Remus blinked slowly, missing their whole exchange as he was still quite groggy. "I dunno," he rasped, shuffling himself around under the blankets trying to get comfortable. "Mmm not sure Poppy’s gonna let me."

Sirius stifled a laugh, exchanging amused glances with James. "Poppy?" he mouthed exaggeratedly, eyebrows raised in mock surprise.

James couldn't contain his amusement, a snort escaping him, before he gestured toward Remus with his chin, indicating for Sirius to focus on the task at hand. While they’d been making fun, Peter had begun helping Remus as he tried to sit, legs swinging off the side of the bed and threatening to slide off completely.

Sirius, swiftly crossed over and stood in front of Remus, steadying him with hands on his uninjured shoulder. "Well, Remus," he said, "Poppy has left the decision to you."

Remus furrowed his brow. "Since when am I a trained medi-witch?" he quipped weakly.

James chuckled at Remus's remark, seeing as it was nearly identical to what James had said only the night before, and earning himself a rude gesture from Sirius. "You're not," Sirius replied cheekily, "but it's your body, and you know your body better than anyone. You should have a say in what you want to do." He said the last bit earnestly, surprising Remus into looking up. It was the first time he’d considered having that sort of autonomy. 

“Well, if it is up to me,” Remus said slowly, “I suppose I would like to try to go home, at least.” 

Sirius smiled, satisfied that he’d been right to challenge Pomfrey. “Splendid! Good thing you’d already packed, eh? James, you have his clothes with you, right?” Sirius bound over to him, and James handed over the clothes they’d brought. 

“Sirius, mate, I don’t know if this is such a good idea… I mean, look at him!” James whispered, concern etched across his face. While he wasn’t going to step in and burst anyone’s bubble, James thought this whole thing was a terrible idea. Remus looked very ill, and if it had been up to James, someone who trusted authority figures, he would’ve shut this down immediately.

"Err, a little help here, boys?" Peter called out, his voice strained as he attempted to keep Remus from sliding off the edge of the bed, where he had gotten a little dizzy and failed to properly catch himself. Without hesitation, James and Sirius rushed over, carefully maneuvering Remus into a more stable position.

As they helped Remus get dressed and ready to leave, Peter suddenly remembered the pastries he had stashed in his pocket. "Ooh, Remus, I almost forgot!" he exclaimed, pulling out the napkin of pastries. "They're only a little smushed, I'd say."

But just as Peter was offering the pastries to Remus, a wave of nausea hit, and he quickly dropped them on the table in favor of grabbing a nearby bin, holding it under Remus's chin just in time to catch whatever the wolf had snacked on making a reappearance.

“Still think this was a great idea?” James whispered to Sirius, craning above their friend hunched over the bin. Sirius rolled his eyes but remained focused on supporting Remus, gently rubbing his back as he retched into the bin, encouraging Remus to ‘get it all out.’ 

Once Remus had emptied his stomach and taken a shaky sip of water, James and Sirius helped him to his feet, supporting him on either side until he insisted he was fine. They managed to pass by Madame Pomfrey, who handed James a small case of potions with instructions for Remus's care taped onto the lid.

"Make sure his father takes this, alright? Be sure he reads the note and follows the instructions." Madame Pomfrey instructed firmly. James nodded in acknowledgment, feeling a pleasant sense of responsibility settle over him.

“Have a nice break, James," Madame Pomfrey added with a warm smile, “We’ll have our check-in once you’re back”. James confirmed their appointment, and returned the sentiment before catching up to the rest of the Marauders, who’d already started walking out of the Hospital wing.

It didn’t take long before Remus had to give up the facade. At his first sign of weakness, Remus unsurprisingly reached for Sirius, who wrapped an arm beneath his shoulders and guided them to the entrance gate. Most people had already left for the train, so they found themselves pretty much alone, surrounded by trunks and the occasional escaped cat or toad hopping about. 

“Are you good to go for a little longer?” Sirius asked gently, in the soft tone he’d been speaking to him all morning. Remus swallowed hard.

"Maybe?" he replied, his voice weak and uncertain.

With cautious steps, the four of them pressed on down the path toward the train, students hurrying to catch the train before it was too late passing around them, paying them no mind. 

Remus leaned heavily on Sirius, his steps beginning to falter as they went on, however Sirius insisted he could hold him the entire time.  

As they neared the train, the platform was nearly empty, the majority of students having boarded much earlier than the scheduled departure time. With just ten minutes left, Remus was done for the day, clearly nauseous again and in pain. 

James was honestly glad that most people had already settled in a compartment; while Remus did have the reputation of being rather sickly, James was positive he wouldn’t want people to see him like he was at the moment… as it would probably be the Slytherins, who’d take advantage and use him as a target for some horrible prank. He passed the case of potions to Peter and climbed onto the train, positioning himself in the doorway to help hoist Remus up the steps while Sirius pushed from below. It was a makeshift solution, born out of necessity, as Remus had typically followed Pomfrey's advice to remain horizontal when feeling so unwell. Despite having never tried this technique before, their combined efforts proved surprisingly effective, and they managed to get Remus onto the train and settled inside a compartment without incident.

As the train chugged along its tracks, the clatter melded with the gentle sway of the carriage, lulling the four exhausted boys into a deep slumber. The steady hum of conversation and occasional laughter from other compartments faded into the background as they caught up on the sleep they’d been deprived of the night before.

Before they knew it, the train was slowing to a halt, announcing their arrival at King’s Cross. The Marauders roused themselves from sleep, stretching and rubbing at their eyes as they gathered their belongings.

The three boys said goodbye to Sirius inside the compartment-  he’d promised to toe the line and avoid antagonizing any family members during the break, so he took off quickly to try and meet up with Regulus and Kreacher before they apparated back to Grimmauld Place without him. That left Peter, James, and Remus in the compartment, Remus, in particular, looking worse for wear. With his cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over, James didn’t think that sending him onto the crowded platform was a very good idea, and so he sent Peter off in search of Mr. Lupin while he focused on getting Remus ready to go. 

As James stepped into Sirius’ role, he couldn't help but feel a bit uncertain; he felt a bit silly and patronizing as he attempted to mimic what he’d heard Sirius say in these sorts of situations before. He decided to take his own approach. 

"Alright, Re?" James began tentatively as he met Remus's bleary gaze, relieved when the other boy nodded back. He quickly gathered any stray items that might belong to his friend, stuffing them into Remus's bag. "You got your shoes and jacket there with you, right? Let’s pop those on."

With a shrug, Remus slipped into his jacket with minimal effort, though he moved slowly, sluggish from exhaustion. He struggled slightly with his shoes, fingers fumbling over the laces as James watched, unsure whether to intervene. Before he could decide, Mr. Lupin and Peter returned, relieving James from making that call.

James greeted Mr. Lupin with a handshake, and pointed out the note taped to the potions case Pomfrey had entrusted to him.

"Ta, James, you’re a good friend," Lyall said appreciatively, “both of you.”  He glanced at his son. "He’s a silly one, ain’t he? Makin’ a long trip like this when he’s doin’ poorly."

"That’s our Remus, he really wanted to be home with both for the hols, I’d say," James replied with a smile, before bidding farewell to the Lupins.

"We’ll take another minute, let the platform empty out a bit before we make any moves here, right, mab?" Remus nodded sleepily in agreement, offering James and Peter a small wave as they exited the carriage, and headed out to the platform where their parents were waiting. 

They heard Patricia Pettigrew before they saw her, a piercing voice above the dwindling crowd at the platform. “Petey!” 

The two boys turned and saw her teary blue eyes and graying blonde curls bouncing over to them, the Potters following her at a much more reasonable pace. 

Upon seeing his parents, James couldn’t help but grin, and abandoned Peter to deal with his overly-emotional mother on his own. He had to stop himself from running over to them, instead choosing to take long quick strides, which seemed much cooler, since he was, of course, now fifteen. His mother’s arms opened, and he smiled, stepping into her warm hug, only breaking it to greet his father. 

“Glad to see you, Beta,” Fleamont said, and James beamed. 

“Good to see you too, Dad. Glad to be home.”

The week passed quickly, full of celebration and relaxation, and before long, the Marauders were back at Hogwarts, preparing for exams, Quidditch finals, and the end of fourth year. 

Madame Pomfrey might not have been thrilled with Remus’ choices to leave the Hospital Wing so early over the last moon, but she couldn’t complain about James in the slightest. He was a model patient, upholding his end of the deal quite well: attending all his scheduled appointments and more importantly, taking all of her advice quite seriously. While James was definitely a prankster, he did trust and respect authority, and knew when to follow the rules and when they were merely a suggestion. If his being allowed to remain at Hogwarts relied on his following Pomfrey’s instructions, James would be following them to the tee. 

It had been a wonderful semester, exams had gone well, and it was the last week of June, summer holidays within reach. 

After stepping out of Madame Pomfrey's office, James felt a surge of relief knowing that his final eye exam for the semester was over, without any major developments. He strolled down the corridor, and as he passed the large windows overlooking the Quidditch pitch, he couldn't help but admire the beauty of the grounds bathed in golden afternoon sunlight: the vibrant green of the grass on the pitch and behind that, the Whomping Willow in the distance, its branches swaying gently in the breeze. Since his diagnosis, James had been trying to appreciate things like that more, taking in the views he once took for granted, no matter how cheesy that sounded. Distracted, he wasn’t watching where he was going, and in typical James-fashion, collided head-on with another student, their momentum causing books and parchment to scatter across the corridor.

"I'm so sorry–" James started, his words faltering as he realized, once again, he'd knocked over Lily Evans. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him, especially considering how their year had begun. "Sorry, Evans, we’ve got to stop meeting like this" he apologized with a smile, quickly bending down to retrieve some of her scattered papers and books.

Lily swiftly took her things from his hands, pulling them tightly to her chest. "Don't you ever look where you're going?" she scolded, blatantly annoyed. "You'd think someone with such high marks would also have some semblance of common sense, but –" She cut herself off, eyeing him skeptically. "What are you even doing here?"

James offered a playful grin, not wanting to delve into his medical history with Lily. "Poppy and I go way back," he joked, hoping to lighten the mood. Lily's expression remained unamused. Clearing his throat, James adopted a more serious tone. "I just get my eyes checked with her every once in a while, making sure I can take in the sights properly, if you know what I mean.” He waggled his eyebrows. “And if I may say, I think the view here is crystal clear, Evans." Her eye roll was enough for James to know what she thought of his sense of humor.

“Whatever, Potter,” she said, clearly annoyed, and stomped off towards the Hospital Wing. 

“Hey! What are you doing here?” James shouted after her. “If you get to be nosy, so do I!” 

Lily whirled around, her long red braid swaying behind her. "If you must know, I would like to pursue something in the healing field once I’m out of school, so I was on my way to discuss with Madame Pomfrey which OWLS I should be going for." Her tone softened, revealing a vulnerable side of her James had rarely seen. "I know career talks aren't typically until next year, but since I don't really know much about how things work in the Wizarding world, I thought it would give me the best advantage to start early." She glanced at James, as if preparing for his teasing in advance.

"Very cool, Evans," James responded sincerely. “I think you’ll be brilliant in whatever field you choose.” 

Lily blushed, looking down at her shoes. “Thank you,” she replied, modestly. James ran a hand through his hair, as he always did when he felt a bit awkward. 

"You know, my mum's a healer, and I'm sure you could also ask her any questions about her job, if Madame Pomfrey can't." Before Lily could respond, James continued, cutting off any potential awkwardness. "I know I'm a bit of a prat sometimes, but my mum is the best person I know. She would be more than happy to even show you around St. Mungo's sometime, if you want to see it, that is."

"Thanks, Potter," Lily replied, taken aback by James' unexpected offer and seemingly-genuine kindness. "I might take you up on that, sometime."

James grinned. "Great, I'll be sure to introduce you two at King's Cross then." They lingered in an awkward silence for a moment before James waved. "See you around, Evans," he called out before heading off down the hall.

As far as interactions with Lily went, this was by far the most successful, and James couldn't help but grin as he dashed down the hall, eager to meet back up with his friends.

It was almost the end of term, with only a day left before the Hogwarts Express was set to take students back to King’s Cross, so with no classes left to attend, or exams left to take, James caught up with the rest of the Marauders, as well as some of the other Fourth Year students, on the shores of the Black Lake. As he came closer, he could see Mary and Marlene laying out in the sun in only their undershirts, with Sirius beside them, the sunlight reflecting off of the pale skin of his chest. Remus sat under a nearby tree, covered up as much as possible in the summer heat, while Pete lay next to him, fiddling with a new muggle contraption- called a Rubik's Cube- that Remus had lent him. 

"Oi, Black," James called, approaching with a mischievous grin, "pureblood or not, you're not immune to a sunburn!" Sirius remained sprawled out, acknowledging James's comment only by lifting his arm and flashing him the middle finger. "Don't be jealous, Siri," James teased, standing above him and blocking the sun. "Not all of us are as blessed as Mary and I in absorbing the sun's rays so effortlessly. Amirite, McDonald?"

Mary laughed, her long brown limbs stretched out on the lawn. “Blessin’ and a curse, innit Potter?” she replied, sitting up and shaking the dried bits of grass out of her hair. “Never had a sunburn, but I wouldn’t mind some of those Slytherin tossers keepin’ their thoughts about it to themselves, ya know?” 

Sirius groaned as he accepted James's hand to stand up, brushing grass and dirt from his bare back and arms. "Enough about those slimy gits," he grumbled, “I’m the one that’s spending the summer with the lot of them. He bound over to where Remus and Peter lounged in the shade, James and the girls trailing behind. "Rem, do you think I've got a sunburn?" He puffed up his chest, inches away from Remus face.

Remus glanced up from his book, his cheeks flushed with heat and the sudden attention. He reached out and pressed a finger to Sirius's arm, causing Sirius to yelp as the spot turned from white back to pink. "I'd say you probably do," Remus replied, eyes darting quickly across Sirius’ exposed skin quickly before returning to his book. "Should've used Marlene's suncream when she offered," he muttered, not wanting to prolong the time he was asked to stare at his friend’s bare, very sunburnt chest. 

"Yeah, Sirius, you really should've," Marlene chimed in. Her blonde hair had grown over the term, bangs beginning to tickle her eyelashes, and she brushed them out of the way, watching as Sirius winced while repeatedly poking at different places on his reddened skin. 

"Well, excuse me for not wanting to be as pasty as you, McKinnon," Sirius retorted with a playful grin. "Some of us are planning to spend our holidays locked indoors, and I was hoping to make a dent in the ghostly pallor I’m sure to be developing this summer.” 

As the girls laughed, Remus, James, and Peter exchanged uncertain glances, trying to gauge how much of that was reality and how much of it was for the bit. 

"Don't the Blacks have a summer home in the south of France?" Marlene asked, pulling her uniform shirt back on as they gathered in the shade, minus James, who was just outside the reach of the shadow, still basking in the sun. 

“Well, technically yes,” Sirius agreed, following her lead and pulling his own shirt over his arms, unsubtly wincing at the stiff fabric brushing against his tender, red skin. “But when my great-grandparents died, they left it to my Uncle Alphard, and since mother-dearest despises him, we are not allowed to visit under any circumstances.” 

“That’s a bloody shame,” Mary chimed in, “south of France sounds ace, especially if it’s like, a beach or sumthin.” 

Sirius shrugged. "Wouldn't know, couldn't confirm or deny," he replied with a smirk. "But if it ever becomes mine, I'll invite you all, and we can throw the biggest muggle-style party any wixen’s ever seen. It's what Alphard would want, I bet." 

The group continued to joke about this hypothetical, muggle-style rager at the Black family summer home as they made their way back inside for the last feast of their fourth year. James felt complete, warm sun on his back and friends on his side, ready to be home for the summer, but also ready for whatever the next year would bring.