Eclipsed

The Marauders were finally reunited in their usual compartment on the Hogwarts Express post-holiday. The air was thick with anticipation and the weight of recent events. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter settled in, their faces reflecting the mix of emotions that the past few weeks had brought.

"Blimey, it feels good to be back," Sirius said, stretching out on the seat. "Even with everything going on, there's nothing like the Hogwarts Express."

James nodded, his mind still on the events of the holiday. "Yeah, mate. But did you hear about the attack on Boxing day? That's fuckin' scary stuff."

Remus, leaning back against the seat, still looking rather unwell from his recent full moon transformation, nodded. "I heard. It's bloody terrifying. I thought things were bad last year, but this... it's a whole new level."

Peter shuddered. "It feels like a nightmare come to life. I can't believe they did that to the… well, to anyone, honestly. And that mark... gives me chills just thinking about it. It looks like a big skull with a snake running around it… real Slytherin shit, Jamie."

“I think I read that they called it the Dark Mark," Lily added, her hand creeping closer to James’ on the worn compartment bench. 

A heavy silence descended upon the compartment. The term "Dark Mark" was new, chillingly unfamiliar. Yet, an unspoken fear hung in the air. This wasn't just another attack. This felt different, something sinister stirring on the horizon. 

Sirius, looking unusually grim, nodded. "We need to be more prepared. Things are getting ugly out there."

James sighed, and agreed. Despite the lightness he’d felt at the Evans’ New Year’s Party, and the relief over his dad’s slow recovery in the early days of 1978, he knew things were getting more and more dangerous. 

As the conversation turned to lighter topics – Peter's near-miss with a rogue gnome at his Apothecary job and Sirius' failed attempt to use the microwave at the Lupin’s – the tension eased. James, ever the optimist, wrapped an arm around Lily.

"So on a brighter note, Lily and I have some news," he said quickly, then smiled, hoping Lily would jump in. 

There was a collective beat of silence, then Lily rolled her eyes. "Honestly, James, do we really need to announce it? You're making it sound like some huge deal."

"Well, some people might not have caught on yet," he replied, and she smiled at the group, eyebrows raised as if to encourage them to guess.

Catching on quickly, Sirius grinned, nudging Remus gently. "About time, Prongs! Took you two long enough."

Remus noticed the shy hand Lily intertwined with James' on the bench. A small smile bloomed on his face. "Congratulations, you two. I'm happy for you," he croaked. 

Lily caught the waver in his voice, and concerned, gave him a quick look-over. "Remus," she began, her voice gentle but firm, "how was the… you-know-what this time? You’re still looking a little peaky, love, and it's been what? Over a week?"

Remus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "It was fine, Lily, thank you. Just the usual."

Sirius, who had an arm wrapped around Remus’ shoulders, scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Moony, you were stuck in bed for five days. You could barely move… not exactly fitting the criteria for ‘fine’ now, are we?"

Remus tried to wave it off. "Sirius, it's not a big deal. I've had worse."

Sirius' eyes flashed with worry. "Not a big deal? Remus, you were in a lot of pain, and... Well, if I hadn't been there—"

Remus cut him off. "But you were there, and I'm fine now." He shot Sirius a glare that could curdle milk. 

The tension in the compartment was palpable, and so James, sensing the rising anxiety in Sirius' voice as the other boy began to come back with another retort, decided to intervene. 

"Sirius, that's enough," he said, his tone firm but understanding. "Let Remus and Pomfrey handle it once we get back."

Sirius looked like he wanted to argue, but he swallowed his words and nodded, the worry still evident in his eyes. “Alright.” Sirius, while quiet now, wouldn't meet Remus' gaze.

Remus sighed, looking both relieved and guilty. "Thanks. It was just a rough transformation, nothing too crazy. Really."

Peter reached across the compartment and patted Remus’ leg. "We're just glad you're okay, mate. I’m gonna need you in one piece if I’m gonna pass my last semester of history…"

The mood lightened with a shared laugh, the tension receding like the tide, and they continued sharing stories and making plans for the term ahead. Hours melted away in a blur of naps, shared snacks, and desultory conversation. The rhythmic clickety-clack of the train lulled them into a drowsy state. Remus, exhausted from the full moon, drifted off first, followed by Peter who, lulled by Sirius's droning recount of a Muggle motorbike he'd seen in a magazine, soon joined him in slumber. Sirius, however, remained vigilant, his gaze darting nervously towards Remus every so often. 

Finally, the familiar whistle of the approaching station pierced the rhythmic train noise, jolting them all awake. Hogsmeade station bustled with the usual first-day-back chaos. Students swarmed the platforms, laden with trunks and overstuffed owls, eager to disembark and reunite with friends. Sirius and Peter slipped on rumpled robes and took the lead, while James, in an attempt to appear competent as Head Boy, straightened his robes and allowed Lily to adjust his badge so that it was pinned on straight. She offered her elbow, which he took, and allowed her to lead him off the train towards their prefect post, Remus following close behind.

As they disembarked the train, the crisp Hogsmeade air tinged with the scent of woodsmoke and magic, Lily pulled him to a stop behind Sirius, who remained rooted to the spot where he stood, a strangled gasp escaping his lips. James frowned, unable to see the commotion that had seized his friend. "Padfoot, what's wrong?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. 

He didn’t answer, but James felt Remus brush him as he walked by to his boyfriend’s side, a soft “oh” escaping his lips.

"Lily, could you fill me in please?" he asked, frustrated. Especially in the dark, there was no way he could be expected to figure out what was going on. 

Lily scanned the platform, her eyes landing on a group of Slytherins huddled near the carriages. "Just some Slytherins, I think" she reported. "One of them..." her voice trailed off.

"What is it?" James pressed, sensing the shift in her tone.

"It's Regulus," Lily whispered, finally.

"He's back, James, it's him. It's Reg," Sirius repeated, his voice tight with a mixture of relief and something akin to dread. The first-day excitement had vanished, replaced by a heavy silence as they all faced the unexpected return of Regulus Black.

Once prefect duties were taken care of, they hopped into a carriage and up to the castle, theories over where Regulus had been bouncing around the conversation.  Sirius, however, remained strangely silent, a knot of worry tightening in his stomach with every passing moment.

The usual welcoming, jovial atmosphere at the castle doors was dampened by an unexpected sight. Argus Filch, his usual scowl deepened by a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead, stood flanked by Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Slughorn. Each student was required to pass through a gauntlet of magical detection spells before entering the castle.

"New security measures, Headmaster's orders," Filch rasped, his voice laden with suspicion as James stepped forward. McGonagall, her stern gaze softened slightly for the Head Boy, waved her wand over James and his prefect badge. "Clean," she declared, a hint of relief in her voice. The rest of their group followed, the same simple scan revealing nothing untoward. 

The silence at the entrance was eerie, and James was relieved to find that the Great Hall still bustled with the usual first-day-back chaos, a cacophony of chatter and nervous laughter as students and staff recounted their holidays, and it was almost enough to forget the implications of having dark magic detectors at the doors. 

Dumbledore's voice, aged yet commanding, cut through the din.

"...And tonight, my dear students, I stand before you not just as your Headmaster, but as a beacon of vigilance. For whispers on the wind, portents in the stars, all speak of a darkness stirring on the periphery of our world. Shadows creep into forgotten corners, and whispers of an old and terrible power resurface."

A hush had fallen over the Great Hall. Dumbledore's voice, though aged, held an undeniable gravitas. His eyes, twinkling moments before, now held a steely glint.

"These are not mere tales for restless nights," he continued. "There are those who seek to tear down the very fabric of peace we have so diligently built. Those who find solace in discord, who thrive on fear. They are few, yet their hearts are consumed by an insatiable hunger for power."

Dumbledore paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.

"But within every shadow," he said, his voice gaining strength, "there is a spark of light. Within every fear, a kernel of courage. It is you, my students, who hold the power to dispel the darkness. It is you who will learn the spells to shield the innocent, who will find the bravery to stand against injustice. You may be young, but it is within you that the future of our world resides."

A ripple of murmured assent ran through the hall.

Remus leaned closer to James, his voice barely a whisper. "Dumbledore's never been so… direct."

James shrugged, trying to dampen the anxiety he felt in Remus’ voice. "Maybe it’s just a cautionary tale, reminding us to be extra vigilant on our patrols, right?"

Remus huffed, doubt gnawing at him. Both he and James couldn't help but feel that this wasn't just a simple speech. It felt like a warning, a call to arms.

Sirius, however, couldn't focus on the ominous message from Dumbledore, or the resulting chatter that popped up around him. He barely even touched his dinner; the roast beef sitting untouched on his plate, the buttery mashed potatoes congealing at the edges. His entire focus was locked on the Slytherin table, on Regulus, who sat stiffly amongst a throng of unfamiliar faces. Regulus, for his part, looked dreadful, almost like a ghost of his former self, in Sirius’ eyes. Gone was the healthy weight and color he’d had at the end of the previous school year, replaced by a gaunt, pale visage that had Sirius concerned, as a brother and healer-in-training. A thick turtleneck sweater hung off of his thin frame, the sleeves pulled down to cover his arms and hands completely.

Surrounding him weren’t his usual group of friends, the quieter, nerdier Slytherins who he’d spent time with through his first few years at school. These new cronies included Avery, Mulciber, Nott, and a couple other resident Death Eaters, who hovered around Regulus with a sycophantic attention that bordered on the desperate. But most unsettling was the way the entire Slytherin seemed magnetically drawn towards Regulus. They snuck glances his way, and hung on every word that came out of his mouth, their faces etched with a mixture of awe and… fear?

"What's got you so distracted, Padfoot?" James asked, kicking Sirius under the table after a question went unanswered for too long. “I can tell you’re not eating, so spill.” 

"It's nothing," Sirius mumbled, unconvincingly. The sight of Regulus, surrounded by the very students whose families Sirius knew harbored blood supremacist views, filled him with a cold dread, and he huffed loudly, while Remus sighed, and encouraged him to try to eat a little bit. 

Frustrated, James decided to ask Peter to fill him in. "Pete," he hissed, leaning closer, "what's going on with Regulus?”

Peter turned around, doing his best to make it look like he wasn’t blatantly staring at the Slytherin table. 

"Regulus is… I guess you could think of it as holding court. Mulciber and Avery are practically hanging on to his every word. And he's…completely covered up. Turtleneck, long sleeves under the uniform robes, the works,” he murmured to James, who nodded attentively. “Long of the short of it, he looks like a drowned rat with all those Slytherin goons hanging around practically worshiping him.” James snorted, but Sirius didn’t seem to think it was so funny. Without a word to anyone, Sirius shoved the bench back and stormed out of the Great Hall.

With a sigh, Remus stood. "I'll go check on Sirius," he murmured, his voice laced with worry. James and Peter waved him off, equally annoyed and concerned over their friend’s dramatic departure.

Following a trail of muttered curses, Remus found Sirius pacing furiously in a deserted corridor, his face pale with a mixture of anger and fear.

"Sirius, darling, what's wrong?" Remus asked, placing a hand on his boyfriend's waist. The touch seemed to ground Sirius momentarily, and he turned, his face etched with worry.

"It's Regulus," he managed, his voice barely a whisper. "He looks so ill, and with everyone fawning over him like that, I’m worried that he… maybe he’s… is he dying? I- I don’t even know what to think, really," he couldn't bring himself to articulate his fears, the implications of any possible option too overwhelming to say. “He looks awful, Moony. What if something’s really wrong? And why do I care about him anyways? He didn’t care when they beat me up and kicked me out, and, and–  ”

“Hey, hey, relax, love,” Remus cut him off, trying to bring Sirius out of his worked up state. “It’s good that you care. It makes you a good person. Let’s see if we can find out what’s going on, carefully though. We don’t want to make things worse, right?”

Sirius sighed, his shoulders slumping. “You’re right. I just...” He shook his head, irritated with himself again. 

Remus, sensing Sirius’ frustration, squeezed his shoulder gently. "Alright, love. Do you want to talk about it somewhere quieter?" he said, his voice calm and reassuring. “How does the dormitory sound?”

With a heavy sigh, Sirius nodded, and they retreated deeper into the castle, the weight of unspoken fears hanging heavy in the air.

 James could sense that Sirius was extremely preoccupied with keeping an eye on Regulus over the next few days, almost to the point where trying to converse with him during mealtimes became unbearable. Each time they sat down to eat, Sirius' eyes would dart over to the Slytherin table, watching his younger brother with an intensity that made it nearly impossible for anyone to engage him in conversation.

Both Remus and James found it increasingly frustrating to keep bringing Sirius back into their discussions; meanwhile, Peter was having a spat with Clarissa and spending these hours with her trying to smooth things over, missing this entire chapter of Sirius’ personal drama. Remus, usually the most patient and understanding of Sirius’ distracted, daydreamy personality, couldn't help but feel a twinge of irritation each time he had to repeat himself or wave a hand in front of Sirius' face to get his attention. James, too, was growing more and more exasperated, since he relied heavily on verbal cues and the tone of their conversations in his communication, making it challenging to discern when Sirius was actually paying attention or simply nodding absentmindedly while his mind was elsewhere.

"Sirius, did you hear what I just said?" Remus asked one evening at dinner, his voice tinged with exasperation.

"Huh? Yeah, Moony, of course," Sirius replied, his eyes still fixed on Regulus.

Remus sighed. "No, you didn't," he corrected. "I was asking about your herbology research assignment, what are you going to be focusing on this term?"

"Oh, right. Yeah, that," Sirius mumbled, finally tearing his gaze away from the Slytherin table. "What about it?"

James, trying to remain patient, spoke up, his frustration evident in his tone. "Padfoot, you've got to get yourself together. You can’t be watching him all the time, it’s not helping anyone."

Sirius sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "I know, Prongs. I just... can't shake the feeling that something's happened. I need to know what happened."

"I know," Remus said gently. "But we need you to be present. It’s not fair for you or for us to be thinking about that all the time"

James nodded, feeling the weight of his own struggles. "Yeah, Padfoot. It's bloody frustrating, also like, a bit embarrassing, personally, when I have to keep guessing if you're ever listening to me."

Sirius looked guiltily between Remus and James. "I'm sorry… I’ll try harder.” 

"It's alright," James replied, though the edge in his voice showed he was still annoyed. "Just try, yeah? That’s all we ask."

Sirius quickly finished up and left the table, making some excuse about the library as he did, and Remus swiftly followed, knowing that in times of stress, Sirius’ bad habits were bound to make a reappearance if he was left alone for too long. 

James lingered at the Gryffindor table, picking at the remnants of his dinner, until a soft tap on his shoulder startled him from his reverie.

“Excuse me, Potter, it’s me, Pandora Rosier? I had a question about next week’s prefect schedule?” 

The voice belonged to Pandora, the fifth-year Ravenclaw prefect, whose twin brother, Evan, was a Slytherin. Her perfume, peppery and earthy all at once, along with her a unique blend of pepper and earth, cacophony of dangly earrings, mismatched bracelets, announced her presence even before James could make out her form. 

"Hey, Pandora," James replied, clearing his throat. "Listen, I think Lily…err, Evans, might be the better person to ask about the prefect schedule, but I can try to help if you need something."

Pandora's question about the schedule was straightforward enough, and James navigated the conversation regarding prefect duties with ease. But as she turned to leave, a thought snagged in his mind. He reached out a hand, stopping her with a hesitant, "One question for you, actually."

"I don't remember if your brother…" James started, then trailed off, searching for the right words. "Is he friends with Regulus Black?"

“He’s not,” Pandora cut him off. "But I am, actually. Or, I guess, I think I am… sort of."

James vaguely recalled seeing them studying together in the library on occasion. Though not a Slytherin, Pandora did belong to a prominent pureblood family, making her an acceptable playmate to the Blacks in their eyes – a potential future wife for one of their sons, at one point.

"Right," he mumbled, piecing together the puzzle. "Listen, Sirius is…" – he struggled to find the right word – "panicking about him. I hear Regulus looks like he's been thrown off the astronomy tower and dragged back up it, but yeah, if you have any idea what's going on, could you tell me? Just for Sirius's sake, I guess."

"I'm going to regret this," Pandora sighed, her jangly earrings tinkling softly as she shifted her weight. “Come with me.” 

Pandora led James out of the bustling Great Hall, the clatter of plates and chatter fading as they descended a quiet side staircase. They reached a secluded alcove, lit by a single sconce flickering on the damp stone wall.

"Alright, Potter," Pandora began, her voice low and serious, "this stays between us. I wouldn't want to get Regulus expelled, or worse, my entire family to be in danger. But I know Sirius… since we were kids. He deserves to know what happened to his brother."

James, his brow furrowed in concern, nodded curtly. "Of course. Whatever you tell me, I won't breathe a word to anyone."

Pandora took a deep breath, her voice barely a whisper when she continued. "Last summer… the leader of the Death Eaters, they call him… the Dark Lord…" she paused, shuddering at the name, "asked all the pureblood families to… to swear loyalty to him. A mark, they call it, a symbol of their allegiance."

James' stomach clenched. He’d heard that there was someone orchestrating the attacks that had been happening, but this confirmed that it was true. 

"My father, along with many others, we… they agreed. It wasn't a choice, really. There were threats, promises of violence against each of us if we weren’t ready to commit to him now. But the Blacks…" she trailed off, a mix of anger and pity in her eyes, "they wanted to prove a point, especially after Sirius… after Sirius left the family."

The realization hit James like a punch to the gut. The Blacks, determined to prove their unwavering loyalty, especially after Sirius's "defection," had branded Regulus. He pictured the boy, always so arrogant and poised, enduring that excruciating process.

"Regulus," Pandora went on, voice thick, "he was the youngest one to take the mark. Everyone knew, everyone saw."

“Here’s the thing, though. Regulus… apparently he has a condition… I mean, you know, he’s always been a bit small, sickly, tired… It's called Davenpoint Nosoi Syndrome. It weakens the magical core, making people more susceptible to illnesses and magical ailments. He often experiences magical exhaustion, chronic pain, difficulty performing complex spells, etcetera. It's a pureblood problem, something to do with, well, the inbreeding, if I’m being perfectly honest."

A jolt of understanding shot through James. Sirius had mentioned that before, but James didn’t know that he actually had something wrong.. "But no one knows about it, right?"

“Well, they do now. He’d started taking a potion to manage the condition apparently, once he’d arrived at Hogwarts. It's not a cure, but it’s been regulating his magical energy, and keeps the worst of the symptoms at bay." 

That's why he was in the hospital wing so often while Sirius was in detention, James thought to himself, Pomfrey figured it out.

"The Blacks, of course, had no idea, he was taking the potions for it," Pandora continued, her voice tight. "They thought he didn’t need them, that he was being lazy or dramatic. When Regulus received the Dark Mark…" she shuddered, "the combination was disastrous. The mark seems to have a nasty reaction with whatever potion Pomfrey had him taking, and almost immediately his body started rejecting it, and  Regulus fell to the ground immediately, and we all just had to watch him just…” she sniffed, and James could tell she was starting to cry. He reached for her hand, and she met him halfway. “He was choking on his own, you know, he was making himself sick… and like, seizing… it was awful, my gods…” 

She collected herself after a moment and continued. 

"Obviously it would become such a scandal if they sent him back to school after that," Pandora explained, her quiet voice laced with displeasure, "the Blacks decided to keep Regulus home from school for the first term. They wouldn't let him continue his treatments with Pomfrey, since they didn’t want the school to discover what he had such a bad reaction to. He's looking a lot better now than he had been when I saw him last, which doesn't say much since he still looks pretty awful, but I don’t know if he can still take the potions Pomfrey had him on to begin with after taking the… you know what.” 

The weight of their conversation hung heavy in the air. James felt a surge of anger towards the Black family, their obsession entangling their son with the Death Eaters, and nearly killing him in the process. 

"Pandora," James finally said, "thank you for telling me this. It's… a lot to take in."

"I understand," Pandora replied, her eyes filled with concern. "Just promise me you'll keep it quiet, for my sake. I would never forgive you, or myself, honestly, if anything happened to my family because you told on them."

James nodded solemnly. "Of course. Your secret is safe with me."

A flicker of gratitude softened Pandora's features. "Thanks, Potter. And thank you for being a good friend to Sirius. I know we aren’t close anymore, but as kids, we spent quite a bit of time together. I still care for him, and Regulus, of course, but Sirius… he needs someone like you as a friend, and I’m glad he’s had you all this time."

Before James could respond, Pandora surprised him by reaching out and pulling him into a quick hug. The scent of her peppery perfume filled his senses as he awkwardly patted her back, unsure how to react. It wasn't a gesture he was accustomed to from anyone besides Lily, or his parents, but the sincerity in her touch resonated with him.

"Alright, come on," Pandora chuckled, pulling away. "I'll walk you back to Gryffindor tower, if you’d like."

James followed her out of the alcove, a newfound sense of purpose replacing the earlier fear. He had Sirius to support, and a growing darkness to face.