A/N: Prompt: Write about a known Quidditch Player. Quaffle: Write about a witch or wizard being torn between two different people or groups.
Additional Prompts:
7. (quote) Because when you're imagining, you might as well imagine something worthwhile. (Anne Shirley) L.M. Montgomery Anne of Green Gables
10. (emotion) disappointment
11. (word) grass-stain
The story itself is somewhere between 1,700 and 1,800 words.
"Padfoot," the whisper coming from his pocket made Sirius jump. He grabbed for the enchanted mirror, minimized for everyday convenience, and pulled it from his pocket. Tapping it so that it regained its normal proportions, James' wan face swam into focus.
"You're not coming," it wasn't a question. Remus, Sirius, James, and Peter had been planning a night out for at least two months. Working around the rotating Order duty roster, combined with the healing of the inevitable injuries incurred by fulfilling those duties, and the overhanging spectre of the full moon had made any such plans thus far impossible. Each one of them had cancelled at least once. "What's the matter." James rubbed his hand over his face shaking his head wearily.
"Lily's sick."
"Still!" Sirius thundered, as if his ire were going to command Lily back to health. "Dammit, how long's it been this time?" Lily was having a considerable problem with morning sickness. It was an everyday occurrence, but recently it had been even more of a struggle for her. Despite the fact that she had been promised it would subside after her first trimester, the nausea showed no signs of abating.
"Uhm, a little over 48 hours I think. She drank some water and ate some porridge about 6 hours ago, but couldn't keep it down." James and Sirius both sighed in unison. What with the Potters being in hiding, there was no question of taking Lily to St. Mungo's, and though Poppy Pomfrey had stopped by once or twice over the Christmas holidays, she could hardly stand to leave the students for any length of time. "Listen, I know you're disappointed," this was true, though Sirius was trying to hide it, " and you know how badly I want to come, but I just can't leave her. She claims she's fine but-"
"But anyone with half a brain knows that's a load of dung," Sirius finished for him.
James smiled for the first time. "Yeah."
"Okay. I'll get ahold of Moony and Wormtail and let them know. You just stay there and make sure your wife and my godchild stay healthy," the relief on James' face mostly made up for Sirius' disappointment.
"Thanks. But listen, you all should still go out. You're still free men, go have a firewhiskey at The Hog's Head or something, and go ahead and drink one for me." Sirius nodded and smile ruefully.
"It won't be the same without you mate." James nodded.
"Tell the others we said hello."
"Will do," and the connection ended. Scratching his head, Sirius stepped over to the fire place. Remus had been on assignment for the Order; and hadn't stopped by the flat yet today. Throwing some floo powder into the flames, noting with minor irritation the grass-stain color the powder left on his hands, he knelt, and stuck his head into the fireplace. He spoke Peter's address through the flames, endured the sickening visage of passing houses, but finally coming to a halt in Peter's sitting room. To his relief, Remus was lying on the couch, obviously fatigued, but with no signs of injury.
"Remus," he called. Remus' eyes fluttered, but he made no move to get up. "Remus!" louder this time, Remus started, jumping to his feet, wand in hand. Upon regaining his bearings, he saw his best friend's head emerging from the fire. Reaching for his wand, he pointed it into the flames.
"What form does you animagus take?" Merlin's Beard, Sirius thought, he's going to keel over on the spot.
"A black dog. When you were four, what did you want to be when you grew up; and for heaven's sake sit back down before you answer!" Remus did so obediently. "When I was four I wanted to be a ballerina because I like the word." Sirius chuckled. "Good to see you," Remus smiled in agreement, "Where's Peter?
"I don't know. I let myself in, and on the hall table there was just a note that said "'Gone out. Help yourself to anything.'" Sirius was stopped answering by the creak of the door coming open. For the second time that night, Remus drew his wand.
"It's me," Peter called wearily, "I'm Peter Pettigrew, ,co-author of The Marauder's Map, and my animagus form is a rat." Remus shook his head. Peter must have seen his coat on the coat rack. He did wish, however, that Peter would be a little bit more careful in regards to trusting people to be who they said they were.
"We're in here Wormtail," Sirius called. Peter rounded the corner.
"Oh it's you. We weren't expecting you till later." Sirius sighed.
"Peter-" the notes of warning and exasperation in his voice unmistakable.
"Yes, yes all right. Declare yourselves." He half-heartedly lifted his wand. Sirius nodded his thanks.
"I am Sirius Black, co-author of The Marauder's Map, and my animagus form takes the form of a black dog."
"And I am Remus Lupin, also co-author of The Marauder's Map," and I wanted to be a ballerina when I was four." Peter nodded, satisfied, and moved to take the groceries he'd been carrying into the adjacent kitchen. "So, what's happened now Sirius?" Peter called from behind the counter.
"Prongs can't make it," both Remus and Peter groaned in disappointment. "Lily's sick, and he doesn't want to leave her. Don't worry though, because I've got an idea. I'll be over in ten." And with that, Sirius' head disappeared, leaving behind two somewhat bewildered friends.
James lay propped up in bed running his warm hand over the back of Lily's head, as she continued to shiver uncontrollably. She'd just had another wave of nausea, but she was so dehydrated, that she was just dry heaving.
"What I wouldn't give for a treacle tart," she mumbled into her pillow. James sat up.
"Would you like some? I can have it made up in maybe half an hour," he was desperate to get her to eat something, and was pretty much willing to try anything at this point, even if a rich dessert seemed counterintuitive.
"No," she slowly rolled herself over to face him, thankful that at 4 and a half months into her pregnancy; her mobility wasn't yet much hindered, "I couldn't keep it down. I'll just have to imagine what it would taste like." James huffed.
"I don't see how imagining's going to help you feel better."
""Because when you're imagining, you might as well imagine something worthwhile."" James cocked an eyebrow in confusion.
"It's something my mother used to say to Petunia to get her to stop worrying about the future. Instead of imagining everything that could go wrong, she would tell her to focus her imagination on things that made her happy. It didn't work," here Lily was cut off. Twisting away from her husband's concerned face, she reached for the bucket resting by the bed let out a hideous gagging noise. James quickly reach out to grab as the force of the convulsions nearly propelled her onto the floor. When it was over, James stood, and scooped his wife up out of their bed. "What on earth are you doing," she moaned, but was clearly too exhausted to protest further.
"You need something. Tea, toast, I don't know what but you need something, and I'm not letting you out of my sight, so I'm carrying you down to the living room, where you will be waited on hand and foot from the sofa." Lily didn't protest, so James proceeded toward the staircase, flicking his wand so that the bucket and some blankets trailed behind them.
James was in the kitchen, fiddling with the dials on the toaster oven, when the knock came at the door. "James!" Lily yelled, but he'd heard it and was already half-way into the sitting room. He could see nothing through the window. Lily had her wand out, but was in no shape to move from the couch. James made his way to the door, slowly twisted the knob, and opened it a fraction. "Declare yourself," he ordered.
"It's us. Sirius, Remus, and Peter. We're co-authors of The Marauder's Map." James threw open the door.
"You scared the pants off me! What're you doing here, you were supposed to go on without me!" Sirius all but rolled his eyes, stepping in the room.
"As if we were going to leave you and Lily here, miserable all by yourselves." Peter and Remus made noises of agreement. Lily leaned back against the couch cushions, breathing a little heavier, but so far maintaining equilibrium. Remus and Wormtail walked over to her, expressing their sympathy. She waved them off and they settled into chairs. James went back into the kitchen to retrieve the toast and tea that he'd made her. Upon returning, he helped Lily to ease herself into a sitting position, set the tray on her lap, and planted a kiss to her forehead, before taking up residence on the other end of the couch.
"We're not much company I'm afraid," Lily said a little weakly.
"That's alright," Remus replied, equally as weakly, and clearly starting to nod off in the armchair occupied.
"It's been a long week," Peter chimed in. "Honestly, I'm not sure I could take the noise of a pub." Lily nodded in agreement, dipping her bit of toast into her mug. James was watching her, so she took a bite. So far so good.
"What a bunch of sorry arses we are," Sirius had gone and grabbed some butterbeer and goblets from the kitchen from a cabinet in the kitchen, and was now distributing them amongst himself and two of his friends (Remus had fallen asleep, and was snoring slightly). "Twenty years old, and instead of a night out we're all sitting in someone's living either sick or half asleep." James and Peter chuckled, raising their goblets in a mock toast. Lily finished the rest of her tea.
Sirius and Peter moved on to the Quidditch bracket for the season so far, but James was only half listening. He looked over at Lily, who only had a bite of toast remaining now, and appeared to be resting comfortably. Her eyes were closed, but she was still awake, listening, and so far the food was staying down. Sirius was right about them all being sorry arses, but James didn't care right now.