Eclipsed

The crisp morning air held a bite, carrying with it the sweet scent of damp earth and blooming lilies. Peter, bundled in a thick woolen scarf, hurried towards the greenhouses, his nose buried in a well-worn copy of "Magical Herbology Applications." His seventh-year research project on the potential medicinal properties of Moonstone bulbs felt like it was consuming his every waking moment.

Reaching the greenhouses, a familiar wave of warmth and humidity washed over him. He stepped through the glass doors, the bustling world of greenhouses bursting into view. Orchids drooped from hanging baskets, plump pumpkins basked contentedly in patches of sunlight, and rows of delicate Moonstone bulbs shimmered with an ethereal glow.

Peter, lost in his research, was about to start collecting soil samples when a soft voice startled him. "Excuse me, but are those… Moonstone bulbs?"

He looked up to find a girl standing awkwardly by the entrance, her face flushed a charming pink beneath her neatly braided, light blonde hair. Her robes were trimmed with silver and green, clearly marking her as a Slytherin. 

"Uh, yeah," Peter stammered, cheeks warming under her gaze. "I'm just repotting them. They're very delicate at this stage, you know."

"They're… magnificent," she whispered, her voice filled with reverence. "I've only read about them flowering; I’ve never seen them so– Did you know they were once used in—"

She stopped abruptly, her cheeks flushing pink. Peter, his heart hammering in his chest, realized she was about to mention a restricted potion. He couldn't help but be endearingly flustered by her sudden shyness. "I'm Elle Burke, by the way. Sorry to disturb you. I'm just… really fascinated by magical flora."

Peter's nervousness melted away, replaced by a spark of warmth. He hadn't had much interaction with Slytherins outside of the horrible ones, but Elle didn't seem to fit the usual stereotypes. Her eyes, filled with genuine interest, mirrored his own fascination with magical plants and herbology.

"That's cool," he replied, a hesitant smile playing on his lips. "Me too. I'm Peter, by the way, Peter Pettigrew.”

“I know,” she replied, then blushed nervously. “I mean, everyone knows you and your friends.” 

Peter scratched the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed. “I guess we’ve gotten into enough fights with people from your house, yes that tracks.” 

“Regardless, though,” she said quickly, her eyes flitting back to the rows of plants behind him, “I would love to hear about what you’re growing here.” 

For the next few hours, they discussed the delicate balance of magical plants, the challenges of cross-pollination, and even their favorite professors (Professor Sprout was the clear winner). Elle, despite being a Slytherin, seemed sweet, and had a genuine love for plants and a surprising wealth of knowledge about magical flora. Peter was captivated by her enthusiasm and her intelligence, and the time flew by without either of them realizing it.

As the afternoon sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the greenhouse floor, Peter realized with a jolt how much time had passed. "Wow, I didn't even notice- it’s nearly dinner, isn’t it?" he said, sheepishly.

Elle smiled, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Neither did I. Your experiment has been very… engaging."

Peter felt his cheeks heat up again. "Well, if you're ever interested in helping out with the research… you know, for extra credit or something…" he stammered, extending an invitation he wasn't sure he'd meant to make.

Elle’s smile widened. "Extra credit, huh? I might just have to take you up on that offer, Peter." The way she said his name sent another set of butterflies fluttering through him.

Their conversation was interrupted by the distant clanging of the dinner bell. With a shared sigh, they reluctantly made their way out of the greenhouse, the setting sun painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.

As they walked back to the castle, a comfortable silence settled between them. But it wasn't an awkward silence, rather a comfortable one, filled with the unspoken promise of future meetings and shared discoveries in the magical world of plants. Peter, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time, couldn't help but wonder if this shy, intelligent Slytherin girl might be the start of something special.

Only a few days later, the aroma of earth and fertilizer wafted through the Gryffindor common room as Peter returned from the greenhouses. Relief mingled with exhaustion in his chest. He'd spent the entire afternoon hunched over Moonstone samples with Elle, meticulously recording their reactions to different light sources, and getting distracted with her in… other ways.

Siriys, sprawled on the armchair next to the crackling fireplace, his brow furrowed in concentration over a parchment, looked up. "There you are, Pete," he said, his voice slightly strained. "Thought you'd put down roots and taken up residence with the plants."

Peter chuckled, forcing a casualness he didn't quite feel. "Just lost track of time," he mumbled, shrugging off his damp cloak. "Research project getting a little… intensive."

James, lounging on the floor with a book propped against his knees and headphones jammed lopsided on his head, raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Intensive, eh?" he drawled. "Any new breakthroughs with your moonflower friends?"

Peter's stomach lurched. He desperately wanted to share – not just about the Moonstones, but about Elle and her knowledge and wit, but thought better of it.

Hesitantly, Peter hedged his answer. "I might be onto something," he said vaguely. "But it's too early to say for sure. I need to schedule more… experimentation."

"Sounds promising then," James answered, distracted by the book in his lap, his headphones and wand indicating he was listening to something in his textbook rather than the details of Peter’s experimentation. 

The truth was, he was actually starting to feel confident about his project, and Elle’s insights had been invaluable. He longed to share his newfound enthusiasm, but fear of judgment held him back.

A heavy silence descended upon the common room, broken only by the crackling fire and the rhythmic scratching of Sirius’ quill. His ambition might clash with his friendships, and his newfound connection with a Slytherin girl might come at a cost. It was too soon to tell, though, and Peter wasn’t one to take unnecessary risks. 

He settled onto a nearby chair, feeling a pang of loneliness despite being surrounded by his friends. He wanted to tell them about Elle, about the way her passion for Herbology mirrored his own, about the way she made him feel like he could actually be something great. But fear of their disapproval, of them shunning him over the idea of befriending a Slytherin, much less being attracted to one, kept his lips sealed.

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow on the Head Student's office, illuminating the stacks of parchment overflowing from James' desk. Lily, perched on the edge of a plush armchair, watched him make horrible faces as he listened to a report submitted to them by Flich over the extra cleaning he’d had to do after some idiotic second years had flooded Myrtle’s bathroom… again.

"Having trouble articulating your disapproval of Filch's latest cleaning schedule?" she asked, a hint of amusement dancing in her emerald eyes.

James scowled, pulling off his headphones. "Something like that," he grumbled. "The man has an uncanny ability to make even the most mundane task sound like a decree from the Ministry itself."

Lily chuckled, a warm sound that filled the office. "Maybe we need more of a… festive distraction."

James paused, finally looking up from his paperwork. "Festive distraction? Who are you, and what have you done to Lily Evans?"

She leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Have you ever heard of a… graduation party?"

James' brow furrowed. "Graduation party? Sounds muggle. I’m interested."

Lily's smile widened. She spent the next few minutes explaining the concept – a celebration to mark the end of Hogwarts and the beginning of their future as witches and wizards. Games, good food, maybe even a dance or two, a chance to relax and celebrate with friends before their lives diverged into different paths.

James, his initial skepticism replaced by genuine excitement, leaned back in his chair, a grin splitting his face. "Lily, that's brilliant!"

"I think this could be a great opportunity to unify the houses before we all head off in separate directions. But we'll need buy-in from the prefects and the rest of the students, of course, to make it work." Lily outlined a plan, detailing the need for prefect approval, budgeting for food and entertainment, and securing a date that wouldn't clash with exams. James listened intently, his mind already buzzing with ideas.

Later that evening, during the weekly prefect meeting, James enthusiastically presented Lily's proposal. The response was mixed. Many, especially the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, were immediately on board, the prospect of a celebratory bash sparking a collective grin. However, a few, mostly pure-blood students steeped in tradition, wrinkled their noses at the idea.

"Graduation party? Sounds like a muggle-trash invention," sneered Avery, a prefect from Slytherin, his voice dripping with disdain.

James bristled, but Lily held up a calming hand. "Actually, Avery," she countered, her voice even and polite, "celebrating milestones is hardly a muggle concept. Wizards have been holding celebratory feasts for centuries, especially those whose families follow the Pagan traditions."

A tense silence followed, broken by a cough from Tabitha MacMillan, a Ravenclaw known for her diplomacy. "Perhaps," she suggested, "we could hold a vote. All those in favor of a celebratory gathering at the end of the term, raise your wands."

Wands rose across the table, a bulbs of glowing light illuminating the room. There were a few dissenters, Avery included, but the vote was overwhelmingly in favor.

As the excitement of planning the party began to simmer, Lily noticed a conspicuous absence. "Remus wasn't at the meeting tonight," she remarked, a flicker of concern in her voice.

James frowned. "That’s odd… I wonder what happened? He isn’t one to miss a meeting unless it’s… you know.”

Lily nodded. “Right,” she said, verbalizing her agreement. "I hope everything’s alright," she said, her voice softening as she thought of multitudes of possibilities which could be leading to his absence.

Taking Lily’s elbow, the two walked from the head office up to Gryffindor tower, giving the password and climbing through the portrait hole. As they walked in, Lily immediately saw Sirius and Peter lounging by the fireplace, Sirius studying from a thick book and Peter napping on top of his. 

"Sirius," she called out, her voice cutting through the chatter echoing through the space.

Sirius, sprawled on a plush armchair with a book propped open on his lap, looked up, a mischievous glint in his gray eyes. "Evans! Prongs! Back from your swotty meeting already?"

James chuckled. "Something like that, Padfoot. We were hoping you might have an idea…"

Lily cut him off. "Have you seen Remus?" she asked sharply.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Remus? Yeah, actually," he replied. "He came back a while ago, looking exhausted. Said he wasn't feeling well, so I sent him up to bed."

Lily's brow furrowed. "Not feeling well? Did he say anything else?"

James, who had been trailing slightly behind Lily, caught up and perched on the armrest of the chair next to Sirius. "Pre-moon stuff?" he inquired, his voice heavy with concern.

Sirius nodded. "That's what he said. Apparently, the full moon's taking its toll early this month."

James let out a frustrated sigh. "Too early, isn't it?"

"Maybe with all the stress of seventh year and studying for NEWTs on top of his usual workload," she offered, "his immune system could just be a bit run down. Maybe he's just not feeling well, like, the normal kind. Not everything has to be moon-related with him, you know?"

James and Sirius considered her words. It made sense. The stress of the past few months had definitely taken its toll on them all. Maybe they were overreacting.

"You're probably right, love," James conceded, a hint of relief softening his voice. "He probably just needs some rest."

Sirius nodded, his gaze flickering towards the deserted boys' dormitory. "Yeah, let's give him some peace for now. If he's still not feeling well tomorrow, well… I’ll drag him to Pomfrey myself.”  A flicker of something unreadable crossed his features. 

But before he could say anything else, James let out a yawn. "Long day, all that Head Boy business."

Lily stood up. "I couldn’t agree more.” She stretched her arms up, and dropped them down, her arms slapping the sides of her hips. “Well, I’ll let you two get some rest," she said, her voice laced with concern despite her best efforts. "Goodnight, boys."

She kissed James chastely, and with a final glance towards the boys dormitory stairs, Lily turned headed up towards the girls’ staircase.

James slumped onto the couch beside Sirius, the tension draining from his shoulders. "Fancy a game of Snap then, Padfoot?" he asked, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Sirius grinned, a familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. "Always up for a challenge, Prongs. Loser has to clean the others’ side of the room for the week."

The cards flew across the table, the occasional loud BANG! punctuated by playful grumbles and triumphant shouts. It was even more fun for Sirius to play with James, who, since he wasn’t able to see the cards, would throw them down at random, and the combinations were hilariously explosive. With each explosion, Sirius couldn’t help but laugh as Peter’s nose twitched, the noise threatening to wake him up, or singe the tips of his hair closest to where they were playing. 

As James slammed a particularly worn card onto the table, a smirk playing on his lips, he remembered something his mother had mentioned in her latest letter.

"Speaking of hospitals," he said, his voice slightly subdued, "Mum wrote to me again. Dad’s back in St. Mungo's."

Sirius, in the midst of shuffling the deck with practiced ease, paused. "Again?"

James nodded. "Just a bad cold this time, apparently. But you know how she is, better safe than sorry. They'll keep him in for observation for a few days."

A wave of concern washed over Sirius. James' father, despite his cool exterior to strangers, held a special place in his heart. Fleamont, along with Effie, had been a constant source of support and encouragement for Sirius, especially after getting kicked out by his own parents.

"That's rough, Prongs," he said, his voice filled with sympathy. "But you know your mum. She'll have him back on his feet in no time."

James let out a humorless chuckle. "That she will. Though, knowing Dad, he'll probably complain about the hospital food the entire time."

“Not enough seasonings… these bland Englishmen,” Sirius joked. "Listen, James," he said, his voice turning serious. "Your dad… He'll be fine, I’m sure."

He rested his head on James' shoulder, his touch conveying a silent understanding that went beyond words. James sighed, and leaned into it, his own cheek tilted until it touched Sirius’ hair. 

"You're right, Pads," he said, a newfound relief filling his voice. "He will be fine. There's no time to dwell on worries, right?"

Sirius hummed in contentment. "That's the spirit, Prongs. Now, where were we?"

James chuckled. "I think I was demolishing you at Snap, wasn’t I?"

They resumed their game, the playful banter and competitive spirit pushing aside the shadows of worry for a brief moment. As the night deepened, though and the embers in the fireplace began to die down, a nagging unease settled in James' gut, leading him to believe that not everything was as it seemed. 

“Let’s head up now- is Peter still knocked out over there?” Sirius snorted. 

“Yep. I’ve got him.” 

They trudged up the stairs, a drowsy Peter trailing behind them, and James tried to ignore the sinking sensation of anxiety building up in his chest. It was no use though, and as he drifted off to sleep, it was only counting his breaths that made falling into nothingness possible.