Eclipsed

The Evans' house was a modest affair, in a row of similar terraced houses in a lower-middle-class neighborhood, Cokeworth, nestled in the midlands. A worn Christmas wreath adorned the front door, and a single string of fairy lights cast a warm glow on the porch steps.

A blanket of pristine white snow carpeted the Evans' doorstep as James and Lily apparated directly onto it. James, bundled in a thick woolen scarf his mother had knitted, stood beside Lily on the doorstep, a swirl of nervous excitement churning in his stomach for his first Christmas ever. 

Lily, her breath puffing out in white clouds in the frosty air, squeezed his hand. "Ready?" she whispered, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

James smiled. "As ready as I'll ever be," he replied, his voice strong but laced with a touch of apprehension.

Lily knocked loudly on the door, and after a moment, Rose, her mother, opened the door. "Lily! James! You two made it!" Rose Evans, Lily's mom, beamed at them, her warm embrace a welcome counterpoint to the frigid air outside. "Come in, come in, get out of the cold!"

"Merry Christmas, Mum!" Lily sang, her voice filled with a joyful warmth.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Evans," James echoed, as warm and polite as he could.

“Oh James,” she laughed, ushering them inside, “It’s Rose, you know that!” 

Lily chuckled. "He'll get used to it, Mum. Eventually."

After they removed their wet shoes, Lily led him through the entrance into the living room, his hand resting gently on her elbow. The air hummed with a comforting bustle - Christmas carols playing softly on the wireless, the clatter of dishes from the kitchen, and the warm scent of roast turkey and Lily's mum's famous treacle tart. James heard a scoff and a muttered remark from the corner, a tell-tale sign of Vernon's presence.

Lily squeezed his hand again, a silent reassurance. "Why don’t you relax in here for a bit," she said, guiding him towards the worn but comfortable armchair opposite the crackling fireplace. “I’m just gonna see if Mum needs any help in the kitchen.” 

James settled in, the warmth of the fire seeping through his clothes. He heard Rose bustling around the kitchen, the clinking of cutlery and murmured instructions to Petunia and Lily. 

"Well, well," a voice grunted, dripping with disdain. "The magical folk have graced us with their presence. I didn’t know your kind celebrated Christmas… Potter, was it?” 

James forced a smile, his voice toeing the line between sincerity and sarcasm. "Merry Christmas, Dursley," he greeted with the hint of a sigh. “Do you mean wizards or Indian people?” 

Vernon snorted, a sound devoid of any festive cheer. 

At that moment, Lily popped back in, coming to stand by James. “Everything alright here?” she asked, sensing the tension, and at James’ nod, she squeezed his bicep. “Dinner’s ready.” 

Despite the awkward encounter, the evening progressed relatively smoothly. Lily and Mrs. Evans busied themselves setting the table, their chatter a comforting backdrop to the crackling fire. Lily fixed his plate, filling it with potatoes, vegetable sides, and of course, dinner rolls. 

"Don't you fancy any meat, boy?" Vernon barked, his voice laced with suspicion.

James forced a smile. "Actually," he began, doing his best to maintain a respectful tone, "I don't eat meat, but thank you so much!"

A collective gasp filled the room. Rose's eyes widened in surprise, while Petunia let out a disdainful sniff. Vernon, however, looked like he might choke on his roast potato.

“Magic folk do all sorts of weird things, don't they?" he sputtered, his voice thick with disbelief.

“My being vegetarian has nothing to do with being magical,” James sighed. “Lily's having turkey, isn't she?” 

"...Enough, Vernon," Rose said, her voice firm but laced with a hint of weariness. "Let's just enjoy our Christmas dinner, shall we?"

The remainder of the meal passed in a tense silence punctuated by the clinking of silverware and the occasional cough. James focused on his potatoes, the creamy texture a comfort against the awkwardness that permeated the air."Lily tells me you're in the drilling business?"

Vernon puffed out his chest, a hint of pride replacing his earlier suspicion. "Indeed, I am. Grunning’s Drills, finest in the county. We build 'em tough, just like me."

James couldn't help but smile. "Sounds impressive.” Another stretch of silence passed painfully before Lily, ever the diplomat, steered the conversation towards lighter topics – Cokeworth gossip, Lily's upcoming exams, and James's studies.

"Studies, eh?" Vernon grunted, finally breaking the silence. "What exactly are you learning at this… Broomstick school of yours?"

James took a sip of water, the coolness easing the knot of tension in his throat. “Law. I'm studying to become a solicitor."

"A solicitor, eh?" Vernon's smile faltered for a moment before returning, a shade less genuine this time. “Seems a bit… posh for my liking. Actual hard work is the key to success, you know.."

James suppressed a sigh. Here we go again, he thought.

"Sounds like a fancy way of learning how to swindle people," Petunia chimed in, her voice sharp and critical.

"Actually, Petunia," James countered, patience beginning to wear thin, "it's about ensuring fairness and upholding the law for all magical beings. Luckily, not everyone in the wizarding world is a con artist."

Petunia gave a small, humorless laugh. "Well, I wouldn't know anything about that," she said, her voice laced with a bitterness that made the room feel even colder.

Lily bristled. “Petunia, that’s enough."

Rose quickly butt in. "Please be respectful, both of you!” 

The clinking of dishes signaled the end of the silent meal. Petunia and Lily, with a practiced efficiency born of years of tradition, began clearing the table, while Vernon, lulled by the warmth of the fire and a full stomach, settled on the couch with a newspaper, his snores soon providing a rhythmic counterpoint to the clatter of dishes.

Seizing the opportunity, James excused himself and followed Rose out onto the porch. The crisp night air was a welcome contrast to the stuffy warmth of the living room. Rose, a cigarette perched between her fingers, leaned against the railing, gazing out at the star-studded sky.

"Mind if I join you?" James asked, his voice soft.

Rose smiled. "Of course, dear. Go right ahead."

James settled beside her, his cane rapping against the wooden porch steps as he made his way up.

"Rose," he began, his voice low, "there's something I… well, it's important."

Rose removed the cigarette from her lips, her gaze turning to him with a gentle curiosity. "What is it, James?"

"It's about Lily," he said, taking a deep breath. "We haven’t been together for too long now, but…" he paused, his cheeks flushing a warm red. "I love her, Rose. I’ve loved her since I was twelve, and this year, just being with her, it has been the best year of my life."

Rose patted James’ hand, which was wrapped around his cane. “ I hope you know, she’s been talking about you since she was twelve too... not always in the most flattering sense, of course, but you've always been on her mind. I can tell you truly care about her though, James."

James's heart skipped a beat. This was it. Now or never.

"I do, Mrs. Evans," he said, his voice sincere. "More than words can express. And… well, I was hoping to ask for your blessing." He took a deep breath. "I want to– I need your blessing, to ask Lily to marry me."

Rose's eyes widened in surprise. The air crackled with a tension heavier than the wind. A long moment of silence passed before Rose spoke. "James," she started, her voice rough with emotion. "Harry… Lily's father… would've loved you. He wouldn't have cared about your background or your… abilities."

James let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Thank you, Mrs-- Rose, Rose. That means a lot to me."

Rose took another long drag of her cigarette, her gaze fixed on a distant point in the darkness. "It's not going to be easy," she said finally, her voice laced with a mixture of worry and acceptance. "There will be challenges, things you both need to consider. You’re so young, James, the both of you."

James nodded, his fingers tightening around his cane. "I'm aware. But I know Lily is it, for me. And I hope I’m it for her too."

Rose studied him for a long moment, her cigarette glowing like a tiny ember in the darkness. Finally, she gave a small, sad smile. "Alright, James," she said, her voice softening. "You have my blessing. Take care of our Lily."

Relief flooded James. "I will," he promised sincerely. "I'll love her and protect her, always."

Rose stubbed out her cigarette, a sigh escaping her lips. "Tell me about it, James," she said, her voice laced with curiosity. "About your blindness, your life at Hogwarts, at Broomhaven, was it? Lily tells me bits and pieces, but I'd love to hear about it from you."

And so, James spent the next half-hour under the star-dusted sky, telling tales of Hogwarts magic, Broomhaven and striving for a more equitable world, exciting Quidditch matches, and the challenges and accommodations of being blind in a magical world. He spoke of his friends, his family back in India, his accident, and his dreams for the future, a future he now envisioned with Lily by his side. Rose listened patiently, asking questions and offering quiet affirmations. By the time they returned inside, a newfound warmth had bloomed between them.

"James," Rose said, her voice filled with warmth, "welcome to the family."

Relief and joy washed over James in a wave. He squeezed Rose's hand, and they sat in comfortable silence for a while longer, the shared cigarette smoke swirling around them.

Finally, the sound of the kitchen door opening broke the stillness.

 "Lily's made tea," Petunia announced, and Rose stamped out her cigarette, lightly guiding James towards the door.

Once back inside, tea was served in the living room, and the evening progressed in fits and starts, punctuated by polite conversation and Vernon's occasional jabs, as well as the flaming Christmas pudding. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Rose announced it was time to wind down for the evening. With a sigh of relief, James rose from his chair, his muscles stiff from the tense atmosphere.

They said their goodbyes, exchanging Christmas wishes that felt more obligatory than heartfelt. As they stepped outside, the crisp night air felt refreshing after the stifling tension inside.

They apparated from Rose’s porch to the front door of James and Sirius’ apartment. Once inside, James collapsed onto the couch, the familiar space feeling like a haven.

Lily joined him, wrapping her arms around him. "Exhausted?" she whispered, her voice laced with concern.

James sighed, letting the weight of the evening settle upon him. "Emotionally drained," he admitted, burying his face in her hair. "But I'm glad we went.” 

Lily nodded, her fingers stroking soothing circles on his chest. "Yes," she agreed, her voice barely a whisper. "Maybe next year we can make out own plans.” 

James laughed. “For sure. My vote is to crash Moony’s– his mum is an incredible cook.” 

James held her close for a moment, his heart brimming with warmth as her fingers went limp, and he felt her dozing off. “Love you, Evans.” He had faced his first hurdle, and he had managed to win Rose over. Now, all that was left was to win Lily's heart, officially. A nervous smile tugged at his lips. He couldn't wait.

The crisp January wind nipped at James and Sirius's cheeks as they apparated outside the Potters' residence early in the afternoon on New Year's Day. Sunlight glinted off the windows, casting an almost ethereal glow on the familiar brick facade. As James, his hand resting on  Sirius' arm, stepped through the doorway, the warm embrace of the Potter household welcomed them inside. The living room was a haven of warmth and comfort. A crackling fire danced in the hearth, casting dancing shadows on the worn furniture and the familiar Persian rug beneath their feet. The aroma of simmering spices filled the air, promising a delicious lunch.

"James! Sirius! My boys are home!" Effie exclaimed, her voice filled with a warm lilt. Her embrace, though brief, was a haven of warmth and the familiar scent of cinnamon and cloves.

Fleamont, James's father, sat in his armchair by the window, a book resting on his lap. He looked up as they entered, smiling widely despite the fatigue clearly manifesting in his body. A faint greenish tinge shadowed his skin, which was usually a warm shade of honey brown.

Sirius, his eye honed by his training both with Pomfrey at Hogwarts and now at St. Mungo's, noticed the subtle changes immediately. He knelt beside Fleamont, his hand brushing against his father figure's arm with a practiced ease.

"Good to see you, Dad," Sirius greeted, his voice warm but laced with a subtle concern. "Not feeling quite yourself today?"

Fleamont chuckled. "Just a bit under the weather, Sirius. Nothing a good cup of chai can't fix, eh?"

Effie bustled around, setting out steaming mugs of tea and a plate of her delectable coconut biscuits in the living room. James, oblivious to the subtle shift in the Sirius’ mood, made his way over to Fleamont as well, kissing him on the head and starting a conversation

Sirius frowned. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Effie, a skilled healer in her own right, wouldn't miss such a noticeable change in Fleamont's complexion, not unless…

"Mum," he began, his voice gentle as he walked over to her, sitting beside her on the couch, "have you noticed… a slight change in Dad’s coloring?"

Effie paused in her tracks, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. She turned towards Fleamont, her gaze lingering on his face for a beat longer than usual. “No… has it– is it different?” 

Sirius studied her intently. “Yeah, mum, he’s looking a little greenish to me. You don’t see it?”

Effie's hand fluttered to her throat, a nervous tremor running through her fingers. "Greenish?" she repeated, her voice strained. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I haven't been as… observant lately."

The concern in her voice echoed Sirius's own. Effie, usually a pillar of strength, seemed a bit off balance. "Why don't I book Dad an appointment at St. Mungo's? I can do it when I go in tomorrow morning." he suggested softly, not wanting to grab James or Fleamont’s attention. 

Effie hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright, darling. You're right. It wouldn't hurt."

After a moment, Sirius wrapped an arm around her. 

"You alright, mum?" he asked, his voice gentle.

She looked up, startled, a flicker of something he couldn't quite place in her eyes. "Yes, Sirius, dear. Why do you ask?"

"Just making sure," he said, his voice laced with concern. "You haven't exactly been yourself lately either. Maybe you should schedule a checkup for yourself too?"

Effie chuckled, a sound that lacked its usual warmth. "Don't be silly, darling. I'm fine. Just a bit… tired, I suppose."

Sirius wasn't convinced. Effie's dismissal felt forced, and the slight tremor in her hand as she sipped her chai did little to ease his worry.

However, James’ voice broke him out of his focus. 

"Mum, Dad," James began, his voice slightly hesitant.

Effie looked up from her knitting, her warm eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yes, James?"

"There's… something I wanted to talk to you about," he continued, taking a deep breath. "It's about Lily."

A knowing smile spread across Effie's face. Fleamont, his eyes twinkling with amusement, chuckled softly. "Ah, of course," he said, his voice raspy but filled with warmth. "It seems Cupid's arrow has finally struck, Beta."

James's cheeks flushed a warm red. "Well," he stammered, "not exactly struck… more like…"

Suddenly, Sirius, who had been observing the exchange with a knowing grin, interjected. "Don't worry, Prongs," he said, nudging James playfully. "We can all guess what you're trying to say. Spit it out, man!"

James cleared his throat, summoning his courage. "Alright, alright," he conceded. "The truth is, I'm planning on asking Lily to marry me."

"Oh, James!" Effie exclaimed, her voice thick with emotion. "This is incredible news! Lily's a wonderful girl."

Fleamont beamed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "We couldn't be happier for you, Beta."

Tears welled up in James's eyes, and he quickly pushed up his glasses to wipe them away.

As the celebrations subsided, Fleamont, a mischievous glint in his eyes, turned to Sirius.

"Sirius, my dear boy," he said, his voice raspy but filled with a youthful energy. "Would you mind giving us a hand with something?"

Sirius stood from his seat. "Of course. What can I do?"

Fleamont's smile widened. "Go upstairs to our room, on the top shelf of the closet, you'll find a wooden box. Bring it down here, would you?"

Sirius disappeared up the stairs, his footsteps a light drumming against the floorboards. Reaching the top of the stairs, he found the room bathed in the warm glow of a bedside lamp. The wooden box, ornately carved with intricate floral patterns, sat on the top shelf of the wardrobe. He carefully retrieved it, the worn wood surprisingly heavy in his hands as he carried it down the stairs.

Back downstairs, James, his face alight with anticipation, waited eagerly. Fleamont, a proud smile on his face, reached out and took the box from Sirius.

"This, James," he began, his voice filled with a quiet pride, "is a small piece of our heritage, jewelry that came with your mother and I when we moved to England."

He carefully opened the box, revealing a treasure trove of jeweled pieces bathed in the warm glow of the firelight. There were intricately carved bangles adorned with rubies and emeralds, delicate gold chains with dangling pendants, and a collection of magnificent rings set with sapphires, diamonds, and opals.

“Some of these belonged to my mother, my grandmother, and your mother’s relatives as well,” Fleamont continued, as James ran his fingers over the various pieces. He looked at James, his eyes twinkling. "We thought you might want to choose something special from here, something to ask Lily to share your future with."

A wave of warmth washed over James. This wasn't just a ring, it was a piece of their family history, a symbol of their love and heritage. He reached out a hesitant hand, but Effie, sensing his dilemma, smiled gently. "Let's help you choose, James," she said, her voice soothing. "Tell us what you think Lily might like."

Sirius, who’d known Lily for just as long, piped in. "Maybe something simple and elegant? Lily isn't one for flashy things, you know."

James nodded in agreement. "Something like that," he confirmed. 

With Sirius by his side describing each piece in detail – the intricate patterns on a sapphire ring, the delicate filigree work on a silver necklace – James began to close his eyes and imagine. James reached out, his fingers tracing the smooth curve of the ring. It felt perfect in his hand, a weight imbued with meaning. He didn't need to see it to know it was the one.

"This one," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "Which stone was on this one?"

Sirius picked it up, his eyes widening in approval. "Beautiful, James! Emeralds are known for their love and growth, perfect for a wedding."

Effie sniffed. "It was your grandmother's, the one she wore on her wedding day."

A wave of emotion washed over James. This wasn't just a ring, it was a connection to his family, a legacy he was about to pass on. “Thank you, Mum, Dad… this is really very special.” 

Fleamont's smile softened as he reached into the box once more. "And Sirius," he said, his voice filled with warmth, "there's something here for the special lady in your life as well, that you can give her when you find her."

Sirius's heart skipped a beat, and a nervous chuckle escaped his lips. "Uh, thanks, Dad," he stammered, "but that's very kind of you. I… well, there isn't actually a…you know…" he trailed off, his cheeks burning.

The air in the room grew thick with unspoken tension.

He trailed off, struggling to find the right words. The joy of James's upcoming proposal hung heavy in the air, and he didn't want to dampen the mood.

Effie's brow furrowed slightly, sensing Sirius's discomfort. "What, dear?" she prompted gently.

Sirius took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "The thing is," he finally admitted, his voice barely a whisper, "there is someone… but, it’s not… I’m not dating a woman."

An awkward silence descended upon the room. James, reached for a biscuit from the plate on the coffee table, eager to do something with his hands. Effie's half-empty cup of tea froze halfway to her lips. Fleamont's smile faltered, a flicker of confusion crossing his features.

"What do you mean, Sirius?" Fleamont finally asked, his voice laced with a hint of concern.

"It's… a man," he finally admitted, bracing himself for their reaction.

Fleamont and Effie exchanged a glance, a mixture of surprise and something unreadable in their eyes. After a long moment, Fleamont spoke, his voice surprisingly calm. "A man?” 

"Someone you might know," Sirius mumbled, his cheeks burning with a heat that had nothing to do with the crackling fire, and James couldn’t help but snort in response. "He's… well, he's been a friend for a long time."

Fleamont's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Effie, ever perceptive, shot Sirius a questioning glance.

Finally, Fleamont spoke. His voice was low and serious. "Who is it, Sirius?"

Sirius met Fleamont's gaze, a mixture of fear and defiance flickering in his eyes. "Remus," he whispered.

Effie gasped, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. She remained silent, however, her eyes darting between Sirius and Fleamont.

Fleamont, to his credit, didn't explode in anger or disappointment as Sirius might have feared. Instead, he reached out and squeezed Sirius's hand, his grip surprisingly firm. "Remus?" he asked, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. "The same Remus who was your friend, your roommate at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Sirius replied, his voice trembling with anxiety. "We've been together for years, but…"

"Hold on, Sirius," Fleamont interrupted him. "There's no need to be so worried about telling us. We're surprised, maybe, but we're not upset at all. You're still our boy, no matter who you want to be with. It doesn't change who you are to us." Fleamont paused, and the room froze. "And besides, Remus has always been the most sensible of you all. He's a good match for you, beta." 

Tears welled up in Sirius' eyes. He hadn't expected such acceptance, such unconditional love. "Thank you," he choked out, his voice hoarse.

Effie placed a comforting hand on Sirius’ shoulder, her gaze fixed on Fleamont. She didn't say anything, but the slight softening of her expression spoke volumes.

Fleamont cleared his throat, a hint of a shaky smile playing on his lips. He gestured towards the open jewelry box. "So, about that ring, Sirius," he began, his voice regaining its usual playful tone. "Think one of these might suit Remus?"

Sirius's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

Fleamont chuckled. "Of course! Now, come on, let's find the perfect one for your… special someone."

The tension that had gripped the room earlier dissipated, replaced by a newfound warmth and understanding. As James, Sirius, Effie, and Fleamont pored over the jewelry box, laughter and shared stories filled the air. The evening took on a new meaning, a celebration not just of James's upcoming proposal, but of love in all its forms. And for Sirius, it was a night he wouldn't soon forget, a night where his family embraced him, not just as their son, but for who he truly loved.