Eclipsed

As the Hogwarts Express pulled into Platform 9¾, James felt a mix of relief and anxiety. While the end of the school year had been grueling, with adjusting to his life post-accident, losing the sport he loved more than anything, and feeling afraid to go anywhere alone, going home carried its own set of challenges. Clinging to Sirius' arm in the station, James made it over to his parents and they headed home for a summer in Godric's Hollow. 

For the first few days, James put on the same well-adjusted facade he'd worn at school, laughing and joking with Sirius, and spending time with his parents. Fleamont was recovering, but he was not his old self again. Hearing his father struggling to do simple tasks that once came easily to him was distressing, and it gnawed at James. Nobody had told him anything was wrong in the first place, and now, it felt like a dirty family secret he was just beginning to uncover. James noticed it in the little things—the way his father moved more slowly, the slight tremor in his hands, and the frequent moments of fatigue that seemed to overcome him.

Days passed in a blur of forced smiles and cheerful conversations, which James couldn't find a way out of, no matter how hard he tried. 

"How are you holding up, Prongs?" Sirius asked one evening as they sat in the garden, a record playing from inside the open kitchen window. 

"I'm fine, Pads," James replied, forcing a smile. "Glad to be home."

Sirius hummed, but didn't press further. James appreciated the space, but the silence felt heavy too.

James managed to keep up the pretense of being okay for almost a week, not wanting to worry his parents or Sirius. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep up the act. As the weeks stretched on, James found himself spending more and more time in bed every day, while avoiding his parents and Sirius and only coming out for his new at-hoome Orientation and Mobility lessons. 

Felicity had been coming over frequently, and helping James continue to adjust to things now that he really couldn’t rely on almost any visual cues to get through life, and while her lessons were helpful, he was left emotionally drained every day. Her approach was gentle but firm, understanding the emotional and physical challenges James was facing, but not willing to give him a pass on doing his best to become as independent as possible. 

At the beginning of the third week of Summer break, Felicity knocked on his bedroom door, after he hadn't met her downstairs as usual. 

After ignoring her for a long minute, James forced himself to sit up, wiping a hand over his face and swinging his legs over the bed.

"Just give me a minute." He knew he probably looked awful; he hadn’t brushed his hair properly in who-knows how long, he felt a bit greasy, and his trousers were starting to feel a bit loose- he’d definitely been losing weight and muscle from just laying around. 

"Good morning, James! Ready for today's lesson?" Once he finally opened the door, Felicity noticed the puffiness around his eyes, and the redness of cheeks, but didn't comment. She had seen students in similar states before and knew better than to push too hard. "Take your time getting ready. We're in no rush."

Once he'd cleaned himself up as much as he could, James headed downstairs and joined her in the living room. Since they’d been working up to his eventual impairment since the beginning of their time together, nothing they’d been working on yet was new, per say, but the urgency with which James needed to master these skills had jumped from about a four to a ten. He’d gotten through the end of the school year relying on his friends taking him almost everywhere, but in the real world, he needed to be able to get around on his own. 

"Today, I thought we could focus on route planning and familiarizing yourself with some common routes around your neighborhood,” Felicity said, once he’d finally joined her in the living room. 

James nodded, feeling apathetic towards the situation overall. "Sounds fine."

Felicity started by reviewing the basic techniques they had covered before, ensuring that James was comfortable with the cane and confident in his ability to detect and avoid obstacles. Then, she introduced the concept of creating mental maps.

"Imagine you're creating a map in your mind," she explained. "It's all about breaking down the route into smaller, manageable segments and using landmarks or specific cues to help you navigate."

They began with a simple route from the living room to the kitchen. Felicity guided James through the process, encouraging him to pay attention to the sounds, smells, and textures around him. She pointed out the subtle changes in the flooring, the sound of the fire cracking, the smells of Effie’s dabba box wafting through the air, the chai boiling on the stove all cues as to where in the house he was. 

After a few successful practice runs, Felicity suggested they move outside. "Let's try a short walk around the block. I'll be right here with you, and we'll go at your pace."

James felt a surge of anxiety but nodded. "Okay."

They stepped outside, and Felicity guided James through the process of navigating the front steps and the path to the sidewalk. She reminded him to use his cane to sweep the area in front of him and to listen for the sounds of traffic and other environmental cues.

As they walked, Felicity provided gentle corrections and encouragement. "You're doing great, James. Each step you take is a step towards independence."

They completed the loop around the block, and by the time they returned to the house, James felt a slight sense of accomplishment, accompanied by the ever-present sense of exhaustion he felt in his chest these days.

Back inside, Felicity praised his progress, sharing her enthusiastic remarks with Effie and Fleamont in the living room. "He’s getting better every day, Mr. and Mrs. Potter. If he keeps practicing, he’ll find it becomes more natural over time, right James?"

James nodded. "Thank you, Felicity. That’s very kind of you to say."

Felicity smiled warmly. "Anytime. I'll see you again in a couple of days for our next lesson."

Effie walked her to the door, as James stood awkwardly between the couches and the stairs, rolling his cane between his hands, the same way he would’ve held a broomstick only a couple months earlier. 

"James, dear,” she began, “Your father and I were thinking of getting some fresh air. Why don't you join us for a walk in the garden?" Effie suggested gently, hoping he’d want to join them. 

"No thanks, Mum," James replied, forcing a smile. "I’m pretty tired from the lesson. I think I’ll go lay down for a bit."

“Beta, you haven’t eaten–” Fleamont began, but James cut him off, turning and reaching out for the handrail of the staircase. 

“I’ll eat later, Dad. Thanks.” Counting the steps, James headed up the stairs, back to his room, where he kicked off his trousers and tumbled back into bed. With the window shades completely drawn, the light in his room was low enough for James to take off the dark glasses he’d been wearing lately, and he tossed them onto the nightstand, closing his eyes and pressing the palms of his hands into them. 

He was hungry, he determined at that moment, but the thought of getting downstairs and making himself something to eat, just sounded exhausting, although he knew if he asked, Effie or Sirius would probably fix something for him. Instead, he rolled over and closed his eyes, pulling the soft summer quilt over his body and willing himself to sleep. 

The summer was pretty short, only about eight or nine weeks, but after four, it seemed James had lost all willingness to pretend any longer. 

Felicity arrived for his lesson, and when summoned by Effie to come down and begin the lesson, there was no answer. Felicity offered to go up and grab him, as she had before, but Sirius, from his place on the couch, offered. 

He bounded up the steps two at a time, and knocked on James’ door. There was no response. Frowning, Sirius tried again, knocking a little louder this time.

"James, Felicity is here. It’s time for your lesson," he called, hoping to rouse his friend from his slumber.

Still, there was no answer.

Sirius slowly turned the doorknob, pushing the door open with a gentle creak. The room was pretty dark, the curtains drawn to keep out the sunlight. James lay motionless on the bed, the quilt pulled over his body like a cocoon and curled away from the door.

"James, mate," Sirius urged, his voice insistent as he approached the bed. "Felicity's here for your lesson. You don't want to make her wait."

James stirred slightly, but his movements were sluggish, and his responses were mumbled and disjointed.

"Sirius, I'm just... tired," James muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't feel up to it today."

Sirius's concern deepened as he entered the room, and knelt by James's side. "Maybe after a shower? Or breakfast? Your mum’s made that… that crepe thing you like.” 

But James's response was the same, repeated like a broken record. "I just... I’m so tired. I’m sorry."

Sirius shook his head, placing a reassuring hand on his friend's arm. "Hey, it's okay," he said gently, trying to hide the worry in his voice. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. I'll let Felicity know you're not feeling up to it today." With a heavy heart, he rose from his spot beside James's bed, his eyes lingering on his friend's tired face for a moment longer. "Just... rest, okay?"

Sirius padded out of the room and carefully closed the door before heading down the stairs. When he reached the bottom, he found both Potters sitting on the couch, and Felicity waiting expectantly, her expression filled with anticipation.

"Will James be coming down then?" Felicity inquired.

Sirius hesitated, his gaze shifting to the floor as he struggled to find the right words. "Uh, not today," he replied, his voice tinged with regret. "He's, um, not feeling well. He says he's sorry/"

Felicity's brows furrowed in concern, and she nodded. "No apologies needed," she said softly, her voice filled with gentle understanding. "Please let James know I hope he feels better soon, and that I'll be back tomorrow."

Sirius nodded in agreement. "I will," he promised, and Felicity said her goodbyes and left. 

Once she’d locked the door behind her, Effie looked up the stairs towards James’ bedroom. 

“I'll just go on up and check on him,” she said aloud, and Sirius and Fleamont both nodded. 

Effie quickly went for the stairs, leaving Fleamont and Sirius together in the living room. 

As Effie ascended the stairs to check on James, Sirius and Fleamont exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of their worry palpable in the air as they sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch. 

"He's not really sick, is he?" Fleamont asked, and Sirius shook his head. Fleamont sighed heavily, his gaze fixed on the staircase Effie had just disappeared up. "It's hard to see him like this," he admitted, his voice laden with concern. "He's always been so full of life."

Sirius nodded in solemn agreement, his own thoughts echoing Fleamont's sentiment. "Yeah," he murmured softly. "It’s been a rough few months. He seemed to be doing okay at school, but…"

Their conversation lapsed into a heavy silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they grappled with the gravity of James's condition. Fleamont glanced at Sirius, his expression etched with worry. "How's he been since he came home, really?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern. “I know he’s been putting on a brave face.” 

Sirius sighed. "Not great, I think," he admitted reluctantly. "He's been struggling a lot."

Fleamont's brow furrowed. "He’s been pretty... different, hasn’t he?" he asked cautiously, hesitating to voice his concerns aloud.

Sirius nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. "Yeah," he replied quietly. "He's been different."

Their conversation lapsed into a heavy silence once more, Sirius just as concerned for Fleamont as he was for James, the older man’s uncertainty over James’ behavior coming across very uncharacteristic of the man Sirius thought he was. As Effie descended the stairs, tears glistening in her eyes, Sirius and Fleamont exchanged worried glances. 

"He's... he's not doing well," Effie began, her voice trembling slightly. "He's withdrawn, barely speaking. I knew he was having a hard time, but… I've never seen him like this before." Sirius scooched over on the couch, making room for her to sit between the two men. 

Fleamont sighed, and frustrated, ran a hand through his thinning hair. "What can we do?"

Effie leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder. "I don't know," she admitted, tears welling up in her eyes as she furiously tried to wipe them away. “I’m sorry to be so emotional like this in front of you, Sirius, darling. You don’t need to be carrying our worries on your shoulders.”

Sirius shrugged. “He’s my brother. I’m worried too.” She reached over and grabbed his hand. 

“Thank you, Sirius,” she said, “James is lucky to have a brother like you.” 

After a moment, Sirius replied. "I'll go talk to him," he said quietly, his voice filled with determination. "Maybe I can help."

Effie nodded gratefully, her hand reaching out to squeeze Sirius's arm in appreciation. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

With a nod, Sirius made his first stop in the kitchen, grabbing some biscuits he knew James liked and making a fresh cup of tea. He then passed the living room again, giving Effie and Fleamont a reassuring smile, as he climbed the stairs, and knocked on James’ door for the second time that day. 

When there was no answer, he took a deep breath and pushed open the door. James was lying on his bed, in the same position Sirius had left him in a little under an hour ago.

"Hey, Prongs," Sirius said softly, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed. "I brought you some tea, and some biscuits."

James glanced up at Sirius. "Thanks, Padfoot," he replied, but made no move to take the cup of tea. "I'm not really hungry though," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sirius sighed inwardly, knowing this wouldn't be easy. "Come on, James," he urged gently. "You need to eat something. It'll make you feel better, I promise."

After a bit of coaxing, James reluctantly accepted the tea and biscuits, taking small sips and nibbling on a biscuit as Sirius talked to him about anything and everything, from Remus’ letters to the neighbor’s motorbike for sale, hoping to distract him from his troubles.

As James finished his tea, Sirius noticed a slight change in his demeanor. He seemed a bit more present, a bit more engaged. Encouraged, Sirius suggested, "Why don't you pop in the shower? It might help you feel a bit more refreshed."

James hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay," he murmured, pushing himself off the bed. Sirius guided him towards the bathroom, making sure the shower temperature was good and that there were fresh towels within reach. 

While James was in the shower, Sirius quickly changed the sheets on the bed and laid out a fresh pair of pajamas for him. By the time James emerged from the bathroom, Sirius had everything ready.

"Feeling a bit better?" Sirius asked, offering James a small smile.

James nodded, a hint of gratitude shining in his eyes. "Yeah, thanks," he said quietly.

Sirius returned the nod, his heart swelling with relief. "No problem, mate," he said sincerely. "Tomorrow will be a better day, I promise."