The Marauders: Year One | #Wattys2016

Departures and Lies

Departures and Lies

James thought it odd that Sirius wasn't in his bed next morning, but supposed he'd gone to breakfast early. He got Peter up and the two second years got dressed and went down to the Great Hall. But the Gryffindor table was nearly empty, the only one there was Alex Tinnamin, who was absent-mindedly stirring his blueberry oatmeal as he read a book. James sat down, his brow furrowed, and grabbed a plate of bacon as Peter scrambled onto the bench beside him. "Wonder where Sirius is?" he mumbled, concerned.

Peter was too busy buttering his toast and sprinkling cinnamon sugar upon it to think about such matters. "Maybe he's just gone off to talk to one of the teachers before end of term," he said carelessly, "I'm sure he'll turn up."

James chewed his bacon thoughtfully. Hazy images that teetered on the edge of memory and dream flooded him - Sirius had tried to rouse him the night before, he realized, and he had slept on... A sick sort of foreboding began to creep through him. Had Sirius gone to get blankets for Remus? Had he been lost somehow on the way to the laundry? Gone down the wrong pit in the Trophy Room passageway? Nervous energy clawed at James's stomach. His chest felt tight. "Peter," he hissed, "Did Sirius try to wake you last night?"

Peter looked up, "Huh?" Cinnamon butter dripped over Peter's chin.

James got up, "I gotta go find Sirius," he said, panicked, louder than he'd meant to. He would get his broom, he decided. He'd search all the pits in that blast tunnel if he had to. He'd probably miss the train from Hogsmeade, but that was less important than finding his friend. He started for the door.

Alex Tinnamin's voice followed him, "He's in the hospital wing, didn't you hear?"

James stopped mid-stride and turned back to look at the seventh year. Alex had put down his book and looked up at James with an apologetic expression. "The hospital wing? What's he up there for?" James asked, nervously.

Alex shrugged, "Dunno. He was unconscious when Derek found him. I heard that he..."

"Bloody hell," James interrupted, and he ran off, panic blinding him so that he didn't even stick around to allow Alex Tinnamin to say whatever it was that he had heard. What kind of horrors had gotten hold on him down those pits? Peter's far fetched worries about dragons seemed suddenly not so far fetch. James's feet beat against the carpet of the corridors as he dashed up the stairs, pushing aside other sleepy students headed for the Great Hall. Complaints from Ravenclaws and Gryffindors alike echoed along behind him, a trail of glaring eyes following him along as he moved through the castle.

"Where are you going in such a rush?" Lily Evans's voice was sharp against a blurry haze of the rest of the students.

"Sirius is hurt," James replied without any more explanation. He jumped for the landing from the rotating staircases and ran down the last corridor, breathless as he reached Pomfrey's wing. He burst through her door wildly.

Sirius was sitting up in one of the beds nearest the window, his arm in a great many bandages and a steaming bowl hovering magically before him in the air as he scooped warm broth into his mouth with his uninjured hand. Madam Pomfrey looked up from where she was bustling about at a wide cabinet filled with wildly shaped bottles, an expression of disapproval on her face.

"No visitors!" she said.

But James was already down the length of the ward to Sirius's bed, his eyes wide, "Sirius! Bloody hell, what've you done?" He lowered his voice to a breath, "Did you take the wrong pit?"

Sirius shook his head and his eyes moved to Pomfrey, who had rushed over, "He needs his rest!" she said sharply, glaring at James, "You aren't going to help him get any better any quicker by being here, Mr. Potter, run along and finish getting ready for the holiday."