Archive of Our Own ^beta

Black's usual spot at the Ravenclaw table is empty.

James frowns, chewing his bacon. Black usually shows up for breakfast. He skips other meals, that's not unheard of, but he never skips breakfast. Even if he has an essay to finish at the last minute, he's usually doing that at the Ravenclaw table, drinking his coffee, well within James' sight.

Right now he's nowhere to be seen, though.

Maybe he just sneaked off to the library for some extra research before class, even if it means skipping coffee. It's just throwing off James' entire morning when he can't sit here eating while looking at Sirius Black.

“James?” Peter asks carefully.

“Hmm?” James finally tears his eyes away from the Ravenclaw table to look at his friend.

“We should probably go,” Peter says, picking at the strap of his book bag. “Or we'll be late for class.”

James swallows his bacon. “Is it already that late?”

“You were a bit distracted,” Remus says, smiling into his teacup.

James rolls his eyes and gulps down the rest of his lukewarm tea before getting up and grabbing his bag. Peter quickly follows. “I'm not distracted. I'm just curious where he is.”

Remus turns his head so he can look back over his shoulder at the Ravenclaw table. “I'm sure he will show up eventually,” he says, frowning at the empty spot. “He's not usually missing classes.”

Remus is right. Black shows up to their Potions class only moments before Slughorn starts their lesson.

“Where were you?” James whispers when Black sits down next to him, setting up his brewing station while Slughorn babbles on about the potion they will attempt today.

“I overslept.”

James blinks at him in surprise. While Black not showing up for a meal is not surprising, even if it's breakfast, him not being entirely punctual for everything is something James just can't wrap his mind around.

He doesn't get to ask any more questions though, like why Black's roommates didn't wake him on time, before Slughorn really gets them going on the potion of the day.

That's when James notices things are really bloody off with Black today. He's a bit heavy-handed with the Shrivelfig and has no patience with the Sopophorous beans, crushing them more than cutting them when they keep slipping away from his knife. It seems to work though since that almost releases more juice than James' well cut up ones do, even if it's hard to tell with the mess on Black's cutting board.

The more the lesson goes on, the deeper the frown on Black's face grows too. His hand shakes a little when he adds the infusion of wormwood to his potion, bad enough for James to see. When he stirs the whole thing, James has to stop him before he can add a seventh anti-clockwise stir and ruin his work so close to the finishing line, grabbing his sleeve while keeping an eye on Slughorn who's thankfully too busy looking at Peter's potion to notice.

A few months ago, James would have been a little bit gleeful to see Black struggle so much in a subject James excels in. Now he's just worried.

Because something has to be very wrong for Black to perform like that in class. James is a little bit better in Potions than him, usually, but not by that much.

“Thanks,” Black mumbles as his potion turns from orange to a pale yellow. It's not quite the sunshine-yellow James has achieved in his own cauldron, but it's not too bad either. He won't lose too many points by handing that in.

Slughorn ends the lesson not long after, collecting potion samples from everyone. Black cleans up his workstation in record time and as soon as Slughorn has picked up his sample, he's out of his seat and on his way to the door. James picks up his bag and rushes after him, trying to catch up before Black can slip away, leaving James without answers to what is going on.

“Sirius! A word, please!” Slughorn's voice booms from behind them. “And Potter too. Just a moment!”

Black stops in his tracks and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, his fingers tight around the strap of his bag. James looks at him a little worried, but when Black turns back around towards their Potions professor, there is a polite but distant smile on his lips. “Professor?”

“You already know what I'm going to say!” Slughorn chuckles as he waves them closer towards his desk in the front of the classroom. Reluctantly, Black takes the few steps closer, James following his lead. “I have another little supper party,” Slughorn continues when they reach his desk. “Just a few people this time, nothing too big. Just a cosy little get-together, good food and a chat.”

“Professor,” Black says like he has gone through this a million times already. “You know I am very busy at the moment.”

“Yes, yes,” Slughorn says with a beneficial smile. “I know, I know, with you being a Prefect and working on your NEWTs. Eleven, was it?”

“Ten, sir,” Black corrects him.

“Still, what a number!”

“If I can keep it up,” Black mutters and Slughorn laughs, patting his shoulder like Black just made a very funny joke.

“Don't worry, my boy. You'll be fine, I'm sure. A student of your brilliance.” Slughorn looks at him proudly, like Black's brilliant mind is all his own doing. “But anyway, back to my little supper. You have to come! You've slipped through my fingers too many times already, Sirius. I simply can not accept another no.”

“I really can't, Professor,” Black says, his tone a little clipped, like he's trying very hard to stay polite. “I have a lot of work to do.”

“He's a slippery one, isn't he?” Slughorn asks James, a twinkle in his eyes as he winks at him. “But I can't say I had much better luck with you either, Potter. How many times have I invited you to one of my little gatherings so far?”

“A few times, sir.” James drags a hand through his hair. “But you know how it is. Being on the Quidditch team and all that.”

“And here I was, hoping I would have better luck at getting you both to come to one of my parties, now that you seem to be such good friends.” Slughorn wiggles his finger at both of them. “Now neither of you can tell me you don't have anyone to talk to at my suppers. You simply both have to come!” He beams at them like he just discovered the best solution to everything. “Even if it's never been entirely true that there is no one for you to talk to, Sirius. Your brother always attends my parties.”

Black tenses even more and Slughorn sighs. “I know, I know. You're not on the best of speaking terms. But if you ask me, that's rather sad for brothers. Wouldn't you agree, Potter?”

“Umm,” James says, caught off guard. He feels more and more like he's only here so Slughorn can use him to corner Black even better. “I don't have siblings, sir, so I wouldn't dare to call myself an expert here.”

Slughorn laughs, loud and booming. The sound echoes in the potion room and makes Black wince a little. “Very diplomatic answer, Potter. I see you've inherited some talents from your grandfather as well, not only the good hand in potion from your father.” His eyes glint as he looks at James with new enthusiasm, like a niffler who just noticed an interesting sparkle. “The Wizengamot seat of your family has not been reclaimed since your grandfather passed away, if I'm not mistaken. Do you have any plans to follow in his footsteps and go into politics, perhaps?”

“I haven't really thought of that,” James says with a frown.

“It could be even more beneficial for you to come to my little gatherings, then! Get a new perspective!” Slughorn moves on as if James hasn't spoken at all. “I have old members of my little club come back for dinner from time to time, some of them working in very high positions in the ministry now. Connections are a good thing to have. A little inside information doesn't hurt, especially in politics, something I'm telling our young friend here all the time.” Slughorn pats Black's shoulder again. “It would just be so much easier for me to set something up for you, Sirius, if you would tell me what you have planned to do with your life.”

“I'll make sure you'll be the first to know, right after myself,” Black says, sounding a little tired.

Slughorn laughs. “Let's not make Filius too jealous, if we can manage it,” he says, his eyes twinkle in amusement. “I'm sure you'll make your way, no matter what you decide on. I would just prefer to have a little hand in it, since you managed to slip through my fingers at the sorting. I still think you would make a very fine Slytherin.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Black says, but it sounds more like an insult coming from his lips. James has to bite his own so he won't laugh out loud.

Slughorn, though, ignores Black's tone completely. He smiles self-satisfied, his eyes going to James again. “So, if you haven't thought about politics yet, what career do you have in mind instead, Potter? I can't believe Minerva would be as lenient with her career advice meeting as Filius is, so you must have an idea.”

James runs a hand through his hair, tugging a little at the roots. “I'm thinking about becoming a healer.”

Slughorn lights up like a fairy on a Christmas tree. “Wonderful! I know just the right person you should talk to. Miriam Strout, specialist for permanent spell damage. I'm sure I can get her to come by soon –“

“I hate to interrupt this little chat, Professor,” Black interjects before James has to find anything to say to that. “But I really need to get going. There is a Transfiguration essay I have to get to before the Prefect meeting later today and I do want to get at least a little bit of sleep tonight. I'm sure you understand.”

Slughorn sighs heavily. “Very well. I'll admit defeat once again, but you should know you're breaking an old man's heart with your constant rejection, Sirius. Same goes for you, Potter.”

“Noted,” Black says.

“Cheeky, as always,” Slughorn laughs and waves them off. “Off you go, before I change my mind and keep you for a little lunch meeting instead.”

Black grabs James' arm and pulls him along before that can happen.

They leave Slughorn and the dungeon behind. James almost has to jog to keep up on their way through the corridor and up the stairs to the entrance hall. Once they are through the doors and away from the dungeons, Black takes a deep breath. It looks almost like relief. He winces, though, when sunlight coming in through the windows hits his eyes.

“Hey, are you okay?” James asks, concerned.

Black only shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, why wouldn't I be?”

“You nearly fucked up your potion. You never do that.”

Black shrugs again, like it's no big deal. He looks oddly pale, something that's even more noticeable now in the sunlight. There are shadows forming beneath his eyes that James is pretty sure weren't there an hour ago.

“Black,” James says, catching his sleeve to make him stop halfway up the stairs that lead from the entrance hall towards their dormitories, so he can get a better look at him. He's really not imagining it. Black looks more tired and drawn the more James is looking at him. “What's going on?”

“I'm fine,” Black says, but his usual fire is missing.

James takes a step closer. “Black... Sirius, please.”

Black closes his eyes like the use of his first name is an unexpected punch. He takes another deep breath before he opens them again, looking at James a little resigned. “It's nothing. I'm having a headache, that's all.”

“A headache?” James asks with a frown.

“It happens sometimes.” Black shrugs again. “I know it's no big deal. I'll get over it.”

“No big deal?” James stares at him. “You look as pale as one of the ghosts. I don't think it's no big deal.”

“I can handle it.” Black rubs at his temples. “The potion fumes just made it a bit worse. I've run out of pain relief potions, otherwise I would have taken some before class. I'll have to pick up more on our next Hogsmeade weekend.”

“How about we go to the hospital wing?” James asks, tugging gently at Black's sleeve. “I bet Pomfrey has some.”

But Black shakes his head before James can even finish his sentence. “She'll only give me one and often enough the first dose will do nothing. By the time she'll be willing to give me another, I'll be up in my dorm and I won't make the track all the way back down to the hospital wing again.”

James frowns. “Why wouldn't you?”

Black sighs. “If it really kicks in bad, I'll be too dizzy and nauseous to get down a spiral staircase without losing my dignity.”

“Oh.” James' frown deepens. “And you call that nothing?”

“It sounds worse than it is.”

“It sounds really bloody awful.” James rubs his eyes underneath his glasses. “Okay, owling your parents to ask them for more potions will take too long. Ordering them will too.”

“My parents won't send them anyway,” Black says, looking away from James as he adjusts the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “My mother is very adamant in her opinion that a little bit of a headache is not worth a mention, let alone a potion.”

James drops his hands and stares at Black. “What the fuck?” he says a bit too loud since Black is wincing again. “Sorry,” he apologizes quickly, lowering his voice. “I mean, what in Merlin's name is wrong with her? Why would she leave you in pain?”

“It builds character.”

James blinks at him. “Okay, that is really fucked up.”

Black laughs, but it sounds a little humourless. “Well, that's my family. But anyway, I should probably go to my dorm and try to rest up a little before the Prefect meeting.”

“How about you come with me,” James says, catching Black's hand before he can brush past James and leave him on the stairs. “We can go up to my dorm.”

Black frowns down at their hands. “This is not the right moment for a repeat of what we did after your Quidditch party.”

James blushes at the simple mention of it. “No, that's not what I mean!”

“Then what do you mean, Potter?”

“Look,” James says, raking his other hand through his hair. “Remus is out doing something with a bunch of first years, some kind of Prefect activity. And Peter is at his Gobstone Club. My dorm will be empty and quiet and we can dim the lights too, if that helps.” James drops his hand and looks at Black. “And the best thing about it: I have pain relief potions up there.”

Black blinks at him in surprise. “You do? What do you need them for?”

“Quidditch can get rough sometimes,” James says with a shrug. “And I don't like running to Pomfrey all the time either.”

It's not a lie. There is another reason for James to have a box full of potions underneath his bed, pain relief and blood replenishing potions alike, but he doesn't really have to mention full moon nights.

Black looks at him like he knows it's only half of the truth, but he doesn't say anything about it. Instead, he sighs and nods. “If you're willing to share.”

Grinning, James laces their fingers together and pulls Black along up the stairs into the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

**

James sticks his head out from between the curtains of his bed when the door to his dormitory opens. “Hey,” he whispers when Peter walks into the room. “Could you keep it down? Black is sleeping.”

Peter looks at him, surprised, then shrugs. “Sure,” he whispers back and then turns to Remus, who enters the room behind him. “Keep it down. James' boyfriend is sleeping.”

“Sirius is sleeping?” Remus asks, confused, as he closes the door gently behind himself. “But we're having a Prefect meeting in twenty minutes.”

James ignores his blush at the word boyfriend and tries to find his wand in the mess of parchment and books on his bed. He finally spots it underneath his Transfiguration essay and slips out of his bed without disturbing Black's slumber. The silencing charm on the curtains is put into place easily.

“He's having a headache,” James explains to Remus as soon as that's done, putting his wand into the back pocket of his trousers. “He says it's not so bad, but I gave him two of our pain relief potions and it still came through.”

Remus winces in sympathy, knowing from personal experience how strong James' work usually is, and sets his book bag down on his bed. His eyes go over to James' bed, looking at the closed curtains. “So you've shown him your potions stash?”

“Yeah,” James says. Black's eyes had gone wide at the number and variety of potions James hides away under his bed.

“He didn't have questions about it?” Remus asks, his fingers tight around the strap of his book bag.

“I've told him it's for Quidditch.”

“And you'll be fine with that?” Remus asks hesitantly, twisting the strap anxiously between his fingers. “Keeping secrets from your boyfriend? Lying to him for me?”

“First of all, he's not my boyfriend.” James can feel the blush creeping up his neck again. “Not yet, at least. Or officially. Or whatever.” He waves his hand dismissively through the air, trying very hard not to think about asking Black out on a real date like he did for the past hour while watching Black sleep. “And even if he were, do you really think I would just tell him about your furry little problem without checking in with you first? Oh, so, my best friend is a werewolf. You're cool with that, right? Now let's make out.”

Remus goes a little pale as he looks at James, wide-eyed. “I wasn't implying... James, I didn't mean you would tell! It's just the first time any of us is in that kind of situation with a partner and...”

“Hey, I have been dating before!” Peter interjects, sounding just a tiny bit offended. “And you weren't worried then.”

“That's true, but I was thinking of something a little more serious,” Remus says, pointing at James. “Than the dates you've been on, Peter.”

Peter hums in thought and then shrugs his shoulders. “Fair enough.”

James very much tries not to fixate on the fact that Remus thinks what he's doing with Black is a little more serious than what Peter is doing with his conquests.

“Really, James, I don't think you'd tell anyone,” Remus says, looking at James. “I'm just worried I'm asking too much of you when I ask you to lie for me to someone who's important to you.”

“It's not lying if I just don't talk about one tiny little detail,” James says, putting his hand on Remus' tense shoulder and squeezing gently, trying to soften what he will say next. “Also, I'm pretty sure he knows already.”

Remus tenses even more under James' touch. “Did he say anything?”

“Not really. But he's very in tune with the moon calendar when it comes to handing over his Runes notes for you. I never have to ask about them.”

Remus nods tightly. The fingers around the strap of his book bag look almost white with how hard he's gripping it.

“Hey, breathe,” James says gently, squeezing Remus' shoulder again. Peter watches them anxiously. “It's fine. We don't really know if he knows and no one has to check. But even if he does, he doesn't ask weird questions or act weird around you, so that's a good thing, right?”

“Yeah, you're right.” Remus takes a deep breath and loosens his grip on his bag slowly. “You're right.”

“I'm always right,” James says with a small grin and drops his hand from Remus' shoulder. “I'm awesome like that.”

Peter laughs and Remus chuckles a little awkwardly.

James' stomach growls loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Oh, right! You've missed dinner,” Peter says, changing the subject when the opportunity is right there to grab. “Sorry, I wasn't sure if we should bring you something.”

“That's fine.” James puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “I'll just go down to the kitchen quickly and grab something.”

“If you'll wait a moment, we can leave together.” Remus opens his book bag and pulls out all the heavy books he won't need for the Prefect meeting. James watches him make neat piles of his books and supplies on his bed, much neater than James himself would ever be. Once he's done, Remus straightens back up, a smile on his face and no traces of anxiety left, like their little werewolf talk never happened. “Okay, I'm ready.”

“Could you tell Black I'll be back soon if he wakes up while I'm gone?” James asks Peter as they make their way to the door of the dorm.

“Sure,” Peter says as he walks over to his own bed. “Will do!”

They say their goodbyes to Peter and slip out of the door together, walk down the stairs and through the common room, then out of the portrait hole.

All the while, James thinks of the other secret he hasn't told Black about, the one connected to full moon nights.

He wonders what he would have to say about Prongs.

**

It doesn't take James long to grab soup, bread, and a few sweets for later from the kitchen and get back to Gryffindor Tower with his loot.

Peter looks up from his Charms book when James comes through the door. “He's still in your bed,” he informs James when he kicks the door shut behind himself. “No word, no movement.”

“Thanks,” James says and drops one of the sweets on Peter's bed when he passes by. He slips through the curtains to sit on his bed, balancing the tray of food and setting it down in his lap.

Black really is exactly like James has left him, laying on his side, curled up into James' pillow. He looks even more handsome when he's sleeping, relaxed and soft.

Maybe James should let him sleep a little more. He could just keep one bowl of soup warm for Black until he wakes up. One flick of his wand is all it takes for that.

Just when James tries to reach for his wand in his back pocket without capsizing the tray in his lap, Black opens his eyes slowly.

“Did I wake you?” James finally manages to pull the wand free. “Sorry, I was actually trying not to.”

Black blinks at him, slow like a cat. It seems to take a moment until he realizes where he is. When he does, he struggles upwards, fighting against James' blanket to get into a sitting position. James has to hold tight onto the tray so it won't spill food everywhere.

“Shit, how late is it?” Black frantically searches for his pocket watch. All James can do is stare at his ruffled hair and the pillow creases on his cheek.

“After dinner time,” James says right when Black finds his watch and flips the cover open.

“Shit,” he says again, dragging a hand through his dark hair as he looks at the time. It's almost sad to James how easily his hair falls back into place from a simple gesture like that. “The meeting.”

“It's fine. Remus is excusing you. How's your head?”

Black closes the watch again and puts it back into his pocket before rubbing at his eyes. “Better, I think.”

James beams at him and sets the tray down on the bed between them. “Great! Are you hungry? I figured soup can't hurt. It's great comfort food and should be easier to keep down if you still feel a little nauseous.”

Black looks at the food like it's some miraculous magic, then at James like he can't really understand what he's looking at. “How did you...?”

“Went down to the kitchens.” James shrugs and holds a spoon out for Black. “Just thought you'd like something to eat once the pain is better. Might help with feeling better overall, since you didn't get the chance for much food today.”

Black just keeps staring at him.

“What?” James asks, running his free hand through his hair. “If you don't like –“

But James doesn't get further in his sentence. A pair of lips stop him before he can babble on, unexpected and firm. James' stomach does a little somersault. The sound he makes is probably a little embarrassing.

James blinks like an owl when Black finally pulls back again. “Thank you,” he says and takes the spoon out of James' hand.

“No problem,” James says, still a little stunned. He watches as Black picks up a bowl of soup from the tray, a grin slowly spreading on his lips, wide and happy. “You know, I'd absolutely do it again for a kiss like that.”

Black laughs. The blush that dusts over his cheeks makes him look even more kissable to James. “Just eat your soup, Potter.”

Grinning, James picks up his own bowl.

Soup has never tasted this good before.