Eclipsed

James fidgeted in his chair, the polished oak of Professor McGonagall's office feeling strangely cold beneath him. He wished Lily had stuck around after walking with him to the Head of House’s office, but James had insisted on having this conversation alone, so here he was… alone.

Taking a deep breath, he finally spoke, his voice laced with a nervousness he hadn't expected. "Professor McGonagall, excuse me for interrupting your busy schedule. Felicity, err… Professor Song, I mean, suggested I inquire about…" he cleared his throat, the words catching in his sudden dryness. "About the accommodations for visually impaired students during the N.E.W.T.s."

Professor McGonagall looked up from her paperwork, her stern expression softening as she recognized James. A hint of understanding flickered in her usually steely eyes.

"Ah, James," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "Of course. I apologize, but I haven't been informed of any specific accommodations you should be receiving for the upcoming exams." A pause followed, then a sigh from McGonagall. "To be perfectly honest, Hogwarts hasn't had a blind or visually impaired student take their NEWTs before. There are no established protocols in place."

James' stomach clenched. He'd been hoping for a clear plan, a concrete set of guidelines to navigate this unfamiliar territory… but clearly that was not the case. 

"I see," he said, forcing a nonchalant tone. 

Professor McGonagall's voice hardened. "Indeed," she said, a hint of disapproval lacing her voice. "A rather shameful fact, wouldn't you say?"

James nodded, unsure where this conversation was going. Was he going to get accommodations or not? Would he be able to do his exams? 

"However, Mr. Potter," she continued, her voice resolute, "that doesn't mean we can't find a solution. Rest assured, I will do my utmost to ensure you have the necessary accommodations to take your exams fairly and comfortably. We may need to discuss some options and brainstorm some solutions, but I assure you, we will find a way."

A wave of relief washed over James, warm and unexpected. He hadn't anticipated such a positive response.

"Thank you, Professor," he said, his voice sincere. "That means a lot."

Before he could rise to leave, however, McGonagall surprised him again.

Before he could express his thanks, however, McGonagall switched topics. "On a separate note, Mr. Potter, I wanted to commend you on your dedication to Mr. Lupin's well-being. Hearing that he's attended all his classes in the past two weeks has been… a real relief."

James shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The praise felt undeserved. "I, uh, I just make sure he gets there, Professor. That's all."

McGonagall's gaze held his for a moment, a flicker of understanding passing between them. "Indeed," she said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "But sometimes, Mr. Potter, friends need a good push in the right direction. And I know he often needs a rather large push to get going.” 

James shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The praise felt undeserved. "I just… worry about him, Professor. You know, with everything.He said there wouldn't be any opportunities for someone like him, and what if… what if, in a twisted way, he was right to stop caring? Is it more cruel than kind, what we’re making him go through to try and catch up now, if it’s not really going to pay off? 

Professor McGonagall's gaze softened further. "Mr. Potter," she said, her voice firm, "never underestimate the power of perseverance. And more importantly, never underestimate the impact you can have on the world.” McGonagall's voice turned serious. “The world is changing, and not for the better. And you, with your intellect and compassion, your privilege, to be quite frank, have the potential to tip the tides of change in a better direction. If your studies at Broomhaven go well, you'll be in a position to advocate for those who might otherwise be ostracized or overlooked. People like Mr. Lupin."

Her words struck a chord deep within James. He hadn't considered the true impact his future career could have. He could make a difference, not for himself, but for others like Remus who felt ostracized by the world. A newfound determination settled in James' stomach. He had conquer these exams, not just for himself, but so that he could help shape a future where opportunities were open to all.

The air in Professor McGonagall's office crackled with tension. James, seated rigidly in a chair at the end of the transfigured conference-style table, felt the weight of the discussion pressing down on him. He may have been the one directly affected, but this wasn't just about him anymore. It had become a battle for equality, a fight for a chance to prove himself on a level playing field.

On one side of the mahogany desk sat Felicity, James' orientation and mobility teacher, her usually sunny demeanor replaced by a steely resolve. Beside her, James' parents, Euphemia and Fleamont, sat shoulder to shoulder next to Professor McGonagall, ready to advocate for their son to receive his exams in a format he could actually take them in. 

Across from them, a delegation of stern-faced Ministry officials, led by the imposing Griselda Marchbanks, Senior Undersecretary of Magical Education, held their ground.

"Professor McGonagall," Mrs. Marchbanks began, her voice dripping with condescension, "we appreciate your bringing this… irregularity to our attention. However, as you know, the N.E.W.T. format has been established for centuries. Altering it for one student sets a dangerous precedent."

"Dangerous?" Felicity bristled. "Mr. Potter deserves a fair chance to demonstrate his knowledge, just like every other student. Denying him proper accommodations is not only unfair, it's discriminatory."

A thin wizard with a pointed beard scoffed. "But accommodations, or any modifications at all, could fundamentally alter the nature of the exam! We can't simply rewrite years of standardized testing procedures to suit one student's needs."

James' father, usually an even tempered man, quickly spoke up as well, his voice rising to a place James had never heard it. "And what about James' needs, Mr.…" he squinted at the name badge, "Scrimgeour? Are his needs not to be considered? Does his blindness somehow negate his years of hard work and dedication?"

McGonagall, interjected before the situation escalated further. "Mr. Potter makes a valid point. James has consistently achieved top marks throughout his academic career. To deny him the opportunity to fairly demonstrate his knowledge based solely on his disability would be a travesty."

The officials exchanged uncomfortable glances. The pressure was mounting. Denying James' accommodations would paint the Ministry in a harsh light, especially with James' influential parents present: the CEO of a huge company and an extraordinarily successful healer. 

"Before we proceed with these… accommodations, we require a formal confirmation of Mr. Potter's visual impairment." Marchbanks announced, her voice clipped. "Healer Jones will be conducting a brief examination to assess your claims."

A tall, stern-looking woman with a monocle perched on her eye entered the room, her expression as cold as the silver instruments she carried in her Healer's bag. James, his stomach churning with a mix of nervousness and defiance, steeled himself for the examination, removing his glasses. He knew this hurdle was inevitable, a necessary step in this bureaucratic dance, but it didn’t mean he liked it. 

Healer Jones began with a series of basic tests. She shone a bright light directly into James' eyes, causing him to flinch and instinctively raise a hand to shield his face.

"What do you see anything, Mr. Potter, when I flash this in your line of vision?" she inquired, her voice devoid of warmth.

James squinted, the harsh light leaving spots dancing in his vision."A bright white blob," he mumbled, truthfully, angling his face away from the beam. “I’m sorry though, that really hurts.” 

“He’s very light sensitive, you know, it says it in the file you have in front of you,” Effie jumped in, and after flicking through the file quickly, the healer shut off the light, leaving James blinking rapidly and rubbing his eyes. 

The Healer then switched tactics, pulling out a series of colorful charts, each with a distinct pattern. 

"Describe what you see on this chart, Mr. Potter," Healer Jones instructed, holding the chart a considerable distance away, too far for James to see anything. 

James' heart hammered against his ribs. "I… I can't really make anything out at the distance you're holding it at," he admitted, frustration creeping into his voice. Jones brought it closer to his face. The chart appeared as a messy splatter of colors, the details lost in a haze. "Just a jumble of… colors, maybe?" Jones flipped through them,  James giving a similar answer for each.

Healer Jones continued her examination, utilizing an assortment of specialized spells to gauge James' visual acuity and field of vision. Finally, she concluded her examination, scribbling something onto a piece of parchment and tucking it back into her bag. The silence in the room stretched, thick with anticipation.

"Madam Marchbanks," Healer Jones finally spoke, her voice a touch softer now. "Based on my assessment, Mr. Potter exhibits a significant level of visual impairment. While he may perceive some light and color differentiation, his ability to discern details and navigate his environment is certainly severely limited."

A heavy silence filled the room as the results were passed around, James' limitations laid bare. Even the most skeptical official couldn't deny the evidence before them. His blindness, while not absolute, was substantial enough to warrant significant accommodations during the NEWTs.

"Perhaps," Marchbanks conceded grudgingly, "we can explore some… modifications. But they must be minimal and not disrupt the standardized nature of the exams. These accommodations must not give him an unfair advantage over his peers."

Felicity scoffed. "The only advantage James has is his determination to succeed.” She pushed a small stack of parchment forward, a triumphant glint in her eyes. "But we can certainly work with the ministry on that, Madam Marchbanks. We've already prepared a proposal outlining the potential accommodations and their justifications."

Negotiations continued, with Felicity outlining the proposed accommodations in detail, and once the terms were set, the ministry delegation was on their way. 

As the last official left, a wave of relief washed over the small group gathered in Professor McGonagall's office. The negotiations had been tense, the Ministry officials clinging as stubbornly to tradition as possible. But in the end, determination, the Healer's report, and Felicity's passionate arguments had won that day.

"Aurally transmitted exams," Effie murmured, smoothing back the fabric of her colorful silk scarf, a relieved smile breaking through the worry lines etched on her face. "It's not ideal, but it's a step in the right direction, darling. A fair chance."

James offered a genuine smile. "It is, Mum. It really is." He reached out, and she grabbed his hand, and squeezed it. “Thank you for being here, and thank you, Felicity. We wouldn't have been able to do this without you."

Felicity, ever composed, beamed. "It was a team effort, James.” 

McGonagall, obviously satisfied, cleared her throat. "Indeed. We will ensure you have all the resources you need to succeed, Mr. Potter. Hogwarts stands by its students, regardless of circumstance."

"Thank you," James answered, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you all for believing in me, for fighting for me. I won't let you down."

Fleamont, his parental instincts strong, squeezed his hand gently. "There's nothing to let us down over, Beta. You've already shown strength and resilience. All that’s left is doing your best, now that they’ll let you.”