Eclipsed

The night of the full moon arrived, casting a glow over the grounds as the three non-werewolf Marauders made their way to the Shrieking Shack. Remus had been extremely tentative about their reunion for this transformation, but his dedication to passing his O.W.L.s won out, and James, Sirius, and Peter were glad to be doing their part again.

They arrived at the shack just before midnight, before the transformation was set to take place. Remus was already there, laying on the edge of that same old couch. He glanced up as they walked in, his eyes flickering briefly over Sirius before settling on James and Peter.

"Hey, Moony," James greeted softly, trying to keep his tone light. "We're here! How are you feeling?"

Remus shrugged, wincing at the movement. "I've been better," he admitted, his voice strained. He barely acknowledged Sirius's presence, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor. He looked sickly pale, the transformation's toll evident in his gaunt face and tired eyes. "Thanks for coming," he said quietly. “I need to do well tomorrow.”

James glanced at Sirius and Peter, who looked back with a shake of the head and a shrug, respectively. James was desperate to try to smooth things over before the change happened, anxious to know if Remus’ distrust of Sirius would come across as Moony’s distrust of Padfoot. Would the wolf attack Padfoot? How many human feelings would be transferred into the wolf’s mind?

"Remus," James began tentatively, "I know this isn't the best time, but maybe you and Sirius should.. You know, before we—"

"Not now, James," Remus interrupted sharply. "Please, just... not now."

Sirius shifted uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Yeah, we can talk later," he mumbled, not wanting to push Remus any further.

"Alright, we'll leave it for now," James said placatingly. 

They settled into their usual routine, but the atmosphere was palpably different. Remus was more quiet than usual, his interactions with Sirius nearly nonexistent. As Remus felt his bones twitch with the impending transformation, he shouted at them to leave and they all followed his instructions without complaint, rounding the corner to the entrance room and listening helplessly. 

They could hear him convulsing, the shouts turning into growls, and once the three had transformed as well, they turned the corner and were face to face with Moony again. 

Moony's back, still healing from previous injuries, made the transformation particularly painful. 

The wolf growled and snapped like a wounded animal would, but Prongs, Padfoot, and Wormtail were there, surrounding him with a protective circle. They moved with practiced coordination, keeping Moony calm and contained.

Padfoot, despite the tension between their human forms, stayed close to Moony all night, redirecting the wolf when he would try and throw himself into furniture and walls. Prongs used his antlers to gently steer Moony away from dangerous objects and toward softer areas and Wormtail was on the ground, darting around and distracting Moony when he became too aggressive or agitated.

Hours passed, and while they weren’t the fun romps of the past few months, the other three boys felt satisfied, and at ease throughout the evening with the knowledge that they were doing the right thing. As dawn approached, the werewolf's fury subsided, and Moony slowly returned to Remus. Exhausted and battered, he collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily. The others transformed back, their muscles aching slightly from the night's efforts.

While Sirius and Peter hung back in the doorframe between the sitting room and the entrance to the house, James knelt beside Remus, brushing a damp strand of hair from his friend's forehead. "You did great, Moony. It's over now. Let’s get you ready for Pomfrey to show up."

Remus, too weak to respond, simply nodded, his eyes half-closed in exhaustion.

James grabbed the other boy’s robes from the cabinet and helped him pull them on before heading for the door himself, when Sirius suddenly stepped closer. "I'm sorry, Remus," he whispered, the words heavy with regret. "I know now isn't the time, but I am."

Remus opened his eyes just a crack and looked at him, uncharacteristically keen for Remus in this post-moon state. "Later, Sirius, please."

Peter placed a hand on Sirius's shoulder, guiding him away. "C'mon, Pads. We’ve got to go now." James nodded, and with one last look back, they left Remus there, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to arrive. As they stepped out of the Shack, the early morning light casting long shadows on the ground, James felt hope for the future of their friendship’s survival, before suddenly, a wash of dread covered him from head to toe. 

In about six hours, they’d be sitting their Defense Against the Dark Arts class O.W.L.- he felt extremely unprepared and also exhausted, a lethal combination. However… he was James Potter… sometimes things just happened to work out for him. Hopefully they would this time as well. 

It turns out that a lack of sleep, adrenaline from taking an exam, and pent up frustration at your evil arch-nemesis was no way to continue developing a friendship with a girl who was said-arch-nemesis' former best friend. 

His friendship with Lily seemed unsalvageable at this point, however now, the hatred was equally spread across the four Marauders, each of whom Lily blamed for the horrible initial incident with Snape and now the post-exam duel between Snape and James, mostly. 

Remus, predictably, was the most torn up about it, since over the past few months, Lily had been his saving grace. She’d been a friend when he’d asked James and Peter to stand by Sirius after the first incident with Snape, and helped him through some pretty tough emotional times along the way. Lily had been furious at him for standing by idly while James blew up at Snape after the exam, and Remus had no real excuse for not stepping in, aside from being physically exhausted from the moon and mentally checked out.

James sat on the edge of his bed, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "I've really messed things up, haven't I?" he muttered to himself.

"You could say that," came a quiet voice from the doorway. James looked up to see Remus standing there, looking exhausted but otherwise okay. 

“I’m sorry about today,” James began. “I know things got out of hand.”

Remus nodded slowly. “Yeah, they did. Lily’s really upset.” He made his way over to the bed. 

“She’s just told me that she wants nothing to do with me either, if it makes you feel any better.

James winced. “I’m sorry, mate, really.  I just...I couldn’t stand Snape getting away with everything. Not after all the crap he’s pulled.”

“I get it, James. I really do. But Lily’s been… Well, she didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of all this.”

James ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I don’t know how to fix this, Moony. I feel like every time I start to get on better terms with her, I fuck it up all over again.”

Remus sighed, pulling his legs up on the bed and wrapping his arms around them. “Maybe we need to give her some space. Let her cool off, you know?”

James nodded, though he wasn’t sure if that would really help. “I just wish she could see that… I wish I didn’t even care about her, you know? She’s not my girlfriend, she’s not even my friend, she’s just…” James trailed off, frustrated. 

Remus gave him a small, sad smile. “We can’t always choose who to care for, sometimes, it’s like… breathing. You can’t stop, even if you wanted to.” 

Just then, Sirius walked through the doors, trailed by Peter. “What are you two moping about now?” he asked awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood as unobtrusively as possible.

“Just talking about Lily,” Remus said quietly.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “She’ll come around, Prongs. She always does. She’s just mad right now.”

“So’s McKinnon, by the way,” Peter added, looking nervously at James as he hopped on his own bed. “Maybe you should try and smooth things over before they turn every Gryffindor girl against us, alright?” 

James groaned, falling back on his bed and rubbing his temples. “Great. Just what I needed to hear.”

“Chin up, Prongs,” Sirius said, throwing himself into bed with James. “Not like it could get much worse than having two gorgeous women hating you!” 

James hoped not, because it felt awful. 

Regretfully, things definitely could get worse. After all the exams were completed, it was time for career talks, an exciting (or terrifying) conversation each fifth year had with their head of house, which for the Marauders and co, meant Professor McGonagall. 

When it came time for James to have his conversation with McGonagall, he’d already heard about what to expect from Peter, who’d told them all about a pleasant conversation he’d had while eating shortbread biscuits. She’d encouraged him to continue to follow his passion for Herbology and consider potential career opportunities in Apothecary work or the Agricultural magic field. Peter returned with a handful of different pamphlets, which not only described the type of work each position would require, but also which N.E.W.T.s it called for. 

James wasn’t too worried about his own meeting, but in all honesty, didn’t feel prepared for it either. James hadn’t ever considered jobs outside of ‘professional quidditch player,’ and although that was clearly out of the running, James hadn’t taken the time to think of other things he liked. While he did well in his classes, he wasn’t passionate about any of the subjects, and the thought of taking over Sleekeazy’s from his dad seemed awfully boring. However, as he sat outside Professor McGonagall’s office, a sinking, anxious feeling came over him.

What jobs would even be suitable for a blind wizard? Would he even be able to work? He knew Felicity had mentioned having blind family and friends, but he’d never thought to ask her if they worked, or what they did! James’ mind turned into a black hole, sucking him down a rabbit hole of escalating bad situations, only shattering once he heard the door creak open. 

"Potter, you may come in," Professor McGonagall called from inside, breaking him out of his spiral.

James took a deep breath and entered her office. The room was lined with shelves of Transfiguration textbooks and magical artifacts sat amongst personal trinkets and family photos. McGonagall sat behind her desk, her stern gaze softened by a hint of a smile.

"Take a seat, Mr. Potter," she said, gesturing to the chair in front of her. James sat down, trying to ignore the rock sinking in his stomach.

"So, have you given any thought to your future career?" McGonagall began, looking at him expectantly, pushing forward a tin of biscuits.

"Well, Professor," James started, running a hand through his messy hair, "I hadn’t thought far beyond playing chaser for the national team, but since that’s not happening..." James shrugged, reaching out and grabbing a biscuit.

Peter was right; they were tasty. 

McGonagall nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I understand, Mr. Potter. The allure of a quidditch career can be hard to resist. Have you considered any other paths?"

James shrugged, feeling a bit lost. "Honestly, Professor, I hadn't really thought about anything else before."

McGonagall leaned forward, her eyes twinkling. "James, you possess many qualities that could serve you well in various careers. For instance, you have a strong opinions and a natural ability to lead. Have you ever considered becoming a magical solicitor or perhaps working in the Wizengamot?"

James blinked in surprise. "Me?"

McGonagall smiled. "Yes, Mr. Potter. While I hate to admit it, you are charismatic, friendly, and very smart. You have a sense of what you feel is right and wrond, and you love to talk back.” McGonagall chuckled. “I think you would be a formidable advocate for others, and for what is best for the Wizarding world."

James sat back. "I never thought about that. I thought people just got seats in the Wizengamot by inheriting them. Since my family immigrated here we don't have one, even though we're purebloods."

McGonagall nodded. That is true, yes, but when a family dies out they do hold elections. Besides, those who do have seats often do have people working under them with the brains and skills to inform them as to how to vote, or what legislation to put forward,” she replied. "Even so, you would have a unique opportunity to influence the wizarding world positively. Both paths would require dedication and further education, but I believe you’re more than capable."

She handed him a stack of pamphlets, each adorned with the logos of different magical institutions and descriptions of those career paths. "These contain information about the N.E.W.T.s  you would need to take and the steps required after graduation."

James took the pamphlets, feeling a bit overwhelmed. 

“You would need a strong foundation in subjects like History of Magic, Magical Theory, and the ‘Ethics of Magic’ N.E.W.T. level course would be beneficial," she explained. "After Hogwarts, you could enroll in a course at the Wizarding Governance Institute. This would involve studying magical law, ethics, and international relations and interning at the Ministry of Magic for a year before assuming a position in the Wizengamot or any other political or legal department you choose."

James felt a mix of anxiety and excitement. "That sounds... intense."

"It is," McGonagall agreed, "but you’ve proven yourself to be more than capable of handling challenges. I have no doubt you would excel in either path."

She leaned back, giving him a moment to process. "Of course, these are just suggestions. The decision is ultimately yours, and you have time to explore your options."

James looked at her, a newfound respect in his eyes. "I will, Professor. Thank you."

McGonagall cleared her throat. "One more thing, Mr. Potter."

James looked up at her expectantly, curiosity piqued.

"Given your exceptional leadership skills and performance on the Quidditch pitch, I would like to offer you the position of Quidditch captain for Gryffindor next year. I believe you’ll be able to lead the team to great success."

James's eyes widened in surprise and delight, but his face quickly fell as he processed what she was saying. "Professor, I... I don't know if I’m the best choice, with my vision and all?"

McGonagall’s expression softened. "James, I've watched you play for years, in practice as well as in the games. Vision aside, your skills and leadership are unparalleled. Your teammates look up to you, not just for your talent, but for your ability to inspire and unite them. I’ve seen you arranging extra practices, developing strategies, and bringing the team together. You have a gift, and I wouldn't want anyone else for the job."

James felt a lump in his throat. "But what if something goes wrong? I would hate to let everyone down."

McGonagall pushed the tin of biscuits closer to him again. "James, don’t jump to conclusions here. It’s good to think ahead, but there’s no use imagining the worst case scenarios. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you have the heart of a true Gryffindor, and you will rise to the challenge. You deserve this position, and we all believe in you.- myself, Felicity, Madam Hooch, and Madam Pomfrey"

James took a deep breath, the weight of her words sinking in. "Thank you, Professor. I’ll accept."

"I know you will be a wonderful captain, James," she replied with a smile. "Now, go- I believe you have an appointment with Madam Pomfrey now, don’t you?"

He nodded, and left her office. The future still felt a bit uncertain, but at least now he had a clearer direction, and something to look forward to. He clutched the pamphlets and made his way towards the hospital wing for his end of year examination. After a positive meeting with McGonagall, he was hoping for an equally positive appointment with the school healer. Deep down, though, he knew it wouldn’t be. 

As he approached the entrance to the hospital wing, he spotted Sirius finishing up his detention for the day. He was in a set of dark blue robes that Pomfrey insisted he wear while working there, wiping away remnants of a spilled potion off of a little glass jar. Upon seeing James come in, Sirius looked up, a grin spreading across his face.

"Prongs!" Sirius called out, waving him over. "We're all meeting outside on the lawn later- do you want to come?"

James forced a smile, attempting to override the anxiety he felt coming. "Yeah, sounds great. I'll see you there."

“Mr. Potter?” Madam Pomfrey’s voice rang across the nearly empty hospital wing.

Sirius clapped him on the shoulder. "Good luck in there, mate."

“Mr. Black, you’re free to go now.” Sirius put down the vial and shrugged off the robes, giving the school healer a quick goodbye before leaving the hospital wing. 

"Mr. Potter," she said, ushering him to a chair. "Let's have a look at those eyes, shall we?"

James sat down, feeling the anxiety settle in. 

Madam Pomfrey conducted the examination and James answered her questions honestly, self conscious of the way he knew he was answering less and less accurately than the previous times she’d given him the examination. While James didn’t feel the difference as much, he knew, deep down, that there was a marked difference from September to now. 

As it drew to a close, he sat down in her office, on the comfy chair he’d claimed as his own. 

“Anything else you think I should note?” she asked, while reviewing the results of his exam. 

"I’ve noticed my eyes feel like… a bit irritated, I guess, and maybe sensitive lately when it’s bright in a room or outside," James mentioned, trying to keep his tone casual. "It’s annoying because I can’t see nearly anything in the dark, so now having issues with dark and light is…" James huffed, slouching lower in his seat. “Please don’t tell me that’s another bad sign.” 

"Hmm, that’s not uncommon with your condition, James. Sensitivity to light can be a symptom as your vision changes. You’re getting headaches from that?"

James nodded, even though he knew his honesty could mean Quidditch being taken away from him sooner.

After a few more minutes, Pomfrey looked up from the parchment on her desk, a serious look on her face. "Your vision is still steadily declining, but you're still on track to finish school with a decent amount of it left, and hopefully still playing Quidditch through the end of your sixth year."

James nodded, taking in the information as gracefully as he could. He'd felt his vision getting worse, especially with the light sensitivity part of it, but hearing it confirmed was still hard.

"You know what might help? Maybe wearing tinted glasses, like Miss Song’s- Felicity, right?" Madam Pomfrey continued. "They could definitely help with the light sensitivity."

James frowned. "I don’t want to call more attention to myself."

Madam Pomfrey gave him a sympathetic look. "I understand, James. But your health should come first, not the opinions of children who you’ve never thought twice about behaving like an idiot in front of. You, of all people, should hardly be thinking about the opinions of others."

James sighed, feeling a wave of frustration. "I'll think about it," he muttered, not really intending to.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, patting his shoulder gently. "Take care, James. Have a good summer."

Leaving the hospital wing, James couldn't shake his grumpy mood. The thought of wearing tinted glasses felt like admitting defeat, and he hated the idea of appearing weaker in front of his classmates or having to give up Quidditch before he was ready.

James decided to head back to the Gryffindor common room instead of joining his friends outside. The conversation with Madam Pomfrey had left him feeling raw and irritated, and he wasn’t in the mood for company.

As he climbed through the portrait hole, he almost collided with Marlene, who was heading out.

"Hey, James, you coming out with us?" she asked brightly, but her smile faltered when she saw his expression. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," James muttered, pushing past her.

Marlene grabbed his arm, stopping him. "James, come on. I can tell something’s wrong. What happened?"

He pulled his arm away, his frustration bubbling over. "I said it's nothing, Marlene. Just drop it."

Marlene's face fell, her concern turning into hurt. "Why won't you talk to me? If you can't share things with me, then why are we even together?"

James felt the weight of the day's frustrations and his own sense of helplessness, snapping, 

"Maybe you're right. Maybe we shouldn’t be together."

Marlene's eyes widened in shock. "Do you really want to break up?"

James hesitated, the words hanging heavy in the air. But he was too tired, too frustrated to take them back. "Yes," he said finally. "I do."

Marlene's eyes filled with tears, but she stood her ground. "You don't mean that. You're just upset."

James clenched his fists, feeling trapped and overwhelmed. "I do mean it. I can't handle this. I can't handle you always needing to know everything when I just want to be left alone."

Her expression turned from hurt to anger. "Needing to know everything? I'm trying to be here for you, James, like any decent girlfriend would! But it seems like you don't want anyone's help. You just want to wallow in your own misery and push everyone away."

"Maybe I do!" James shouted, his voice echoing in the empty common room. "Maybe I don't need you or anyone else trying to fix me!"

Marlene’s voice trembled, both with anger and heartbreak. "Fine. If that's how you feel, then maybe we shouldn't be together."

James looked at her, his own pain reflected in her eyes. "Maybe we shouldn’t."

Marlene's tears spilled over, and she shook her head. "I thought you were different, James. I thought you cared."

"I do care," James said, his voice breaking. "But I just– Marley, wait–"

Marlene turned and ran up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. James watched her go, feeling a hollow ache in his chest. He trudged up to the boys' dormitory, hoping he’d be alone. 

When he pushed open the door, he found Remus lying on his bed and listening to a sad record, something muggle that James didn’t recognize but really related to at that moment. Remus looked up, saw the state James was in, and immediately sat up.

"James, what's going on?" Remus asked, his voice filled with concern.

James didn't respond. Instead, he walked over to Remus' bed and sat down heavily. He stared at the floor, trying to keep his emotions in check, but his vision blurred with tears.

"James?" Remus prompted gently, his worry deepening.

James shook his head, his breath hitching. "I... I can't..." He tried to say more, but the words stuck in his throat.

Remus moved closer, hesitantly placing a hand on James's shoulder. "It's okay. Just... let it out."

James squeezed his eyes shut, determined not to cry. "I'm... fine. I just... I can't..."

The dam broke. A sob escaped, and he buried his face in his hands, shaking with the effort to hold back more tears.

Remus didn’t say anything, just wrapped an arm around James’s shoulders, pulling him into a hug. "It's okay," he murmured. "Just let it out."

James resisted for a moment longer before finally giving in, the sobs wracking his body. Remus held him, saying nothing, just being there.

After what felt like an eternity, the storm of emotions began to subside. James pulled back, wiping his eyes angrily. "Sorry," he muttered, his voice hoarse.

Remus shook his head. "No need to apologize. You’ve been holding a lot in."

James nodded, feeling drained and raw. "I just... everything's falling apart, Moons. I don't know what to do."

Remus sighed, holding his friend a little bit tighter. “You’ll figure it out, James, you always do.”