James sat with his head in his mother's lap, eyes fixated on the analogue television in the corner of the lounge. It had been the first time he had moved from his room all week after all, a rather nasty wizard flu having kept him bedridden. He did not feel much like making conversation; neither did he feel much like walking, so he simply sat... perfectly content with allowing his mother to dote over him. Although his father, Charlus, seemed less than impressed by his choice in television station, he had no qualms with humoring his sick son. That is what family did after all- they looked after one another.
James Potter had not been entirely truthful with his parents however, despite their best efforts to keep him happy; there was more to his moping than he claimed, more to his moping than a simple wizarding flu. Sick though he might have been, the boy had worried himself into quite a state-his stomach clenched at the mere thought of it. He had not spoken to his best friend in almost two weeks you see, with Padfoot even having missed the last full moon. Although it was not unusual for the boy to distance himself over holidays, what with his family being the way they were, it was certainly unusual for him to cut himself off completely. It left the chaser on edge. James worried enough about the boy as it was after all, worried that his family might eventually ware him down. The Potter heir worried, more so than he did about anything else, that Sirius' parents would finally convince him to cut his ties with his friends.
So although the young boy might have spent the large majority of his summer bedridden, this was not the reason he wallowed. James simply wanted to know that Sirius was okay, to know that his emotionally crippled best mate had not gone and thrown himself off the edge of a cliff. That was the way things seemed to be headed for the boy after all, downward. Padfoot had been in quite a mood the last time they had spoken, swearing and punching walls- and whilst this came as no real surprise given what the boy had said about his home life, it still scared James beyond rational belief. Sirius was not the type to share his emotions after all; it was not often the chaser saw his teammate in such a state.
A knock at the door roused the boy from his thoughts however, his attention slowly moving from the television set. Upon hearing his mother speak, he shifted slightly, eyes darting towards the door and then back again. He watched as his father made his way towards the entrance hall, heavy on his feet as always, only slightly interested in the scene at hand. The man waddled down the hall, clad only in his pajama pants and a singlet, reaching for his wand as he passed the mantle. He smiled slightly at the pictures of his son and wife, looking rather irritated by the intrusion. They had not been expecting visitors after all.
The man's attitude seemed to change entirely upon looking through the peep hole however, the front door being swung open in a haste. "Sirius my boy, he bellowed, rushing out of his sons view. James sprang up then, ignoring his mother's protests. Rounding the corner at an impractical speed, the boy skidded towards the front door.
"Sirius!" he exclaimed excitedly, opening his arms to his best mate, smile widening with every passing moment. "Padfoot... old buddy, old pal what brings you to –" James stopped then, unable to draw his eyes away from the rather nasty bruise on his friends face. "What happened?" he continued, voice having quieted in light of this new information.
What happened?