Eclipsed

Sirius stumbled into the kitchen the following morning, squinting at the harsh morning sunlight streaming through the window, wincing at the throbbing pain behind his eyes.

Lily, ever the picture of domestic bliss, was humming cheerfully as she fried sausages in a pan. James sat at the table, a half-full mug of chai in front of him, listening intently to a news report emanating from the wireless on the counter.

"Morning, sunshine," Lily greeted, her voice laced with a playful sarcasm that didn't escape Sirius.

Sirius managed a weak groan in response, sinking into a chair with a sigh that could've rattled the windows. "Ugh, Merlin's saggy tit," he muttered, burying his face in his hands.

"Padfoor," James said, his voice gentle but firm. "How are you feeling?"

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a croak. He swallowed hard, trying to clear the dryness in his throat.

"Like I've been dragged through the Floo upside-down and backwards," he finally managed, his voice hoarse.

Lily, ever the pragmatist, set a glass of water and a pair of muggle pills in front of him. "Here," she said, her voice laced with a kindness that belied the worry in her eyes. "These might help."

After a reminder on how to take them, Sirius downed the pills and water gratefully, the relief hitting him in slow waves. He looked between James and Lily, shame burning in his throat.

"Look, about last night…"

He trailed off, the words getting caught in his throat. James and Lily exchanged a knowing glance. James had filled her in on how Sirius's visit to Remus had ended, the unspoken tension hanging heavy in the air ever since.

James turned off the volume on the wireless. "You want to talk about it?"

Sirius hesitated for a moment, then ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "It's just… Remus," he confessed, his voice dropping to a whisper for no reason other than the fear of vulnerability. "This whole secrecy thing is driving me nuts. But the way I acted… I feel like a right git."

Lily pulled up a chair next to him, her touch gentle. "Remus keeping secrets is… It's frustrating, I know. But lashing out, pushing him away… that's not going to help."

Shame burned even hotter in Sirius's gut. She was right. He had let his fear and anger fester, pushing Remus away at a time when he needed him the most.

Lily squeezed his hand gently. "He needs you, Sirius," she said, her voice filled with a gentle firmness. "He needs your support, your understanding. And you need him too."

Sirius nodded, tears finally spilling down his cheeks both from the combination of overwhelming emotions and feeling like shit. "I know," he croaked. "I just… What can I even do fix this now?"

James leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table, clasping his hands together. "Go apologize," he said simply, voice firm but compassionate all at once. "You tell him you're sorry, that you were scared and messed up. And then, you listen. You try to understand what he's going through, even if he can’t give you all the details you want.” James paused, then chuckled to himself. “This might sound cheesy, Pads, but be sure to tell him you love him and you're there for him, no matter what."

Sirius took a deep breath. "Alright," he said, a tremor still present in his voice. "I'll go."

James heard the resolve in his friend's voice and knew further words were unnecessary. "The flat is yours for the weekend," James offered, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Give you two some privacy."

Sirius's head snapped up, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Are you sure? What about you?” 

James chuckled. "I'll be visiting my parents today, and staying over at Lily's until Sunday evening," he said with a shrug. "Besides, you two deserve some quality time. No distractions, no interruptions."

A wave of gratitude washed over Sirius. "Thanks, James," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I… I really don't know what I'd do without you."

Lily leaned in and gave him a hug, her embrace warm and reassuring. "We love you, Sirius," she whispered. "Now go get ready before James changes his mind."

The familiar scent of lavender polish and freshly baked biscuits welcomed James as he stumbled out of the floo, grateful for Lily’s arms stabilizing him as he stepped out of the fireplace. Effie, James's mother, stood by, her silver-streaked dark hair pulled back in a long braid.

"James, Lily!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with relief and warmth. "It's so good to see you both. Come, come, sit yourselves down."

Fleamont, whose once-thick black hair was now entirely salt-and-pepper, sat in his armchair by the crackling fireplace, and called out. "James- beta! How are you?"

James knelt before his father, his hand going out to rest on Fleamont's thin one. "Good, Dad. Busy, but good. How are you feeling?"

Fleamont chuckled, a dry rasping sound. "Getting old, that's what I'm feeling," he admitted. "Body just doesn't work quite like it used to."

Effie bustled in, a tray laden with steaming cups of spiced chai and his father’s favorite nankhatai. "Don't listen to him, James," she said, her voice laced with playful scolding. "He just wants a bit of coddling." James savored the familiar flavors – the spiced, buttery shortbread that melted on his tongue paired perfectly with the milky tea.

The afternoon unfolded in a comfortable rhythm. They settled around one end of the long kitchen table, the flickering firelight casting dancing shadows on the walls. The conversation flowed easily. Lily shared stories about her own classes at Broomhaven and updating Fleamont on the newest potioneering practices, while James recounted some of the more interesting lectures he’d been in over the past few weeks.

 Fleamont, though visibly tired, listened intently, a proud smile gracing his lips.

"And how is Sirius doing, dear?" Effie suddenly asked, her voice laced with concern. Sirius, despite being born to a different family, was like a son to her. Sirius's latest relapse, the secret surrounding Remus… these were burdens James didn't want to add to his parents' shoulders.

"Oh, Sirius is doing splendidly, Mum," James replied, a touch too quickly. “St. Mungo’s is keeping him very busy these days, as I’m sure you can remember from when you worked there.” 

A small white lie, but a necessary one. The thought of his parents worrying about Sirius's struggles sent a pang through his heart.

Effie beamed, a look of pride lighting up her face. "That's wonderful news! We’re proud to have another healer in the family, right Monty?"

Fleamont chuckled. “That’s right, Eff.” 

The conversation steered towards safer topics – the upcoming Quidditch World Cup, the latest celebrity news, and Fleamont's growing collection of rare magical books. The afternoon passed in a bittersweet haze.

As the afternoon wore on, James knew it was time to leave. He hugged his parents goodbye, the familiar warmth of their embrace a comforting anchor.

"Take care, my dears," Effie said, her voice filled with a motherly concern. "And come visit again soon. We miss you both."

Lily squeezed her hand. "We will, Mrs. Potter. Promise."

With a final wave goodbye, they stepped back into the fireplace, the familiar emerald flames engulfing them. 

A gentle snow fell over Hogsmeade, blanketing the cobbled streets and thatched rooftops in a soft white fuzz. Peter, bundled in a thick woolen cloak, hunched his shoulders against the biting wind. Anxiety gnawed at him, a constant companion these days.

Sirius was barely holding it together, leaving James to try and fix things, as James always wanted to do. Remus, shrouded in secrecy and burdened by his research, had largely disappeared. Peter, the ever-optimistic one, felt the weight of their troubles pressing down on him, even from a distance, and he longed for a moment of normalcy, a breath of fresh air away from the suffocating atmosphere that came with his friends’ troubles.

Today was that breath of fresh air. Tucked away in a secluded corner of Hogsmeade, hidden from prying eyes, Peter waited for Elle. Their relationship, nurtured through clandestine letters filled with longing and stolen moments, was a fragile thing. Dating a pure-blood witch while coming from a blood-traitor family himself wasn't exactly encouraged in the current political climate, especially from a Sacred Twenty-Eight family like her own. 

He waited, his breath forming tiny clouds in the cold air. His anxiety eased slightly when a flash of blonde hair caught his eye. Elle, bundled in an emerald scarf and a fuzzy white hat, hurried towards him.

"Peter!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. The familiar scent of lavender and parchment filled his senses, washing away the worries of the day.

He held her close, the warmth of her body a balm to his soul. "Elle," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "It's so good to see you."

They pulled back, their gazes locked.

 "It seems like forever since we last saw each other," Elle said, her voice filled with a wistful longing.  "I missed you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Peter wrapped his arms around her, the warmth of her body a comfort against the winter air. "Too long," he agreed, his voice a low murmur. "I missed you too." He squeezed her hand gently. "Let's go for a walk," he said, a smile on his face. "Tell me all about your classes- and your research project!"

They spent the hours lost in conversation. They discussed their studies, Elle animatedly describing the intricacies of her latest Herbology experiment, Peter sharing his experiences at the apprenticeship. He carefully avoided mentioning the troubles with his friends, not wanting to mar the day with such negative energy, or remind her of the company he kept, knowing that her crowd was very different than the progressive witches and wizards he ran with. 

The time flew by. It wasn't much, but during this short meetup, Peter found a sense of normalcy, a reminder that amidst the growing darkness surrounding his friends and their world, there was still light to be found. 

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the village square, they reached the edge of Hogsmeade. Peter knew it was time for her to return.

"I'll write to you soon," Peter promised, his voice heavy with unsaid words.

Elle nodded, her eyes filled with a flicker of sadness. "I'll be waiting," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

They leaned in, their lips meeting in a soft, lingering kiss. As they parted ways, the setting sun casting a warm glow on their faces, Peter tucked a small, carefully wrapped packet of marigold seeds into Elle's hand – a token of his affection, a promise for a lasting, resilient relationship. 

He disapparated with a crack, leaving Elle standing alone in Hogsmeade, and a wave of loneliness washed over him. Arriving at the lodgings provided to him by the internship, he looked around, his eyes finding a quill and parchment at the desk. Embarrassed, although he was the only one home, and there were no real grounds to be embarrassed, he sat, and quickly penned a note. 

Dear Elle,

Missing you already. 

Remember that strange purple flower I wrote to you about the other day? The one with the mind-bending properties? Well, let's just say it caused a bit of a ruckus in the greenhouse on Thursday, and I can’t believe I forgot to tell you about it. Long story! Perhaps I can tell you all about it when we next meet?

Until then,

Peter

He rolled up the parchment and called over his owl. She hooted impatiently as he tied the note to her leg.

"Off you go, girl," he whispered, watching her disappear into the night. Only a year till she graduated, and hopefully things would be better then, and they could be together all the time- without judgement from either side.