-1Aristocratic Tendencies

SSJP Fan Fiction

Alternate Universe Story

ObsessiveDevil23

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, I am not making any money from this.

This chapter was like 'pfuu make it all JPSB like!'. So I did… It goes back to SSJP soon, I just couldn't resist the cuteness of this.

Chapter 4 - The Magic of Food

James Potter, it had to be said, hated hospital beds. They were itchy, annoyingly white (so much so that it was giving him a constant headache) and bloody uncomfortable. The curtains wouldn't shut right and the sun rose too early and woke him at the most annoying times, when everyone else in the castle (aided by blackout curtains) would still be very much asleep. He slept early too, from being so exhausted from waking up early and doing nothing. For anybody who has a brain can realise that sitting around all day is probably the most tiring thing one can do. Of course, sleeping early meant missing visiting hours, and he rarely got to see his friends. Truly, the only thing keeping him going was the single thought that as soon as he had regenerated enough blood to allow him to take the day in his stride once more, he was going to beat that slimy grease-balls, shallow-skinned, vampiric, hooked nose in.

Yeah!

"What are you day-dreaming about Jamie?" James snapped from his thoughts, which had spun from the uncomfortable spring poking out of the bed he was currently residing in. Sirius was sat next to him, quietly contemplative (something which has both shocked and worried James), and unusually docile. He shook his head, even after three days, unwilling to speak if he could help it. He tended to feel sick if he did. Sirius shrugged, checking the watch securely fastened to his wrist. "Oh, hey, Lunch time!" He exclaimed, leaning towards the two hampers he'd snuck in when Madam Pomfrey wasn't looking. It looked like James was finally going to find out what was in them. And find out he did, with every item that Sirius pulled from the hamper, like a diligent housewife (not that he'd EVER tell Sirius he'd thought that), his bottom jaw dropped just that little bit more, until it was practically resting on the floor.

It started with sandwiches being taken from the basket and placed down on the table next to the bed: Ham sandwiches; cheese; ham and cheese; chicken salad; egg mayonnaise; cucumber and cheese and pickle. Then came dips and spreads to compliment them: gooey jams; marmalade; small chunk pickle; love-me-or-hate-me marmite; Sirius' favourite peanut butter; mild salsa sauce and spicy crisps; creamy coleslaw and potato salad; cheese and chives; Philadelphia and pasta salad.

By this time James was well and truly amazed, but Sirius was still pulling more from his seemingly endless basket: Boiled eggs and spring rolls; crispy duck, pink prawns, tuna and salmon; cocktail sausages; porkpies; spicy pepperoni; mini scotch eggs; little chicken pieces; hotdogs; sausage rolls; cheese and onion pasties; crumbling crackers; monkey nuts, cashew nuts, salted nuts and dry roasted nuts. Followed closely by fruits: red raspberries, sweet strawberries, round blackberries and bumpy blueberries; ripe pears, pink apples and yummy tangerines; cherries, dates and pineapples; sharp oranges, plump plums and hairy kiwis.

Even if they had the stomach to eat all that, Sirius had also thought about desert: creamy yoghurts, yellow custard and rice pudding; lemon cake, strawberry cake, chocolate gateau, Victoria sponge and cheese cake; Angel delight and Turkish delight; Banana and Walnut Loaf and Jamaica Cake; Apple pie and apple fritters; chocolate ice-cream, vanilla ice-cream, strawberry ice-cream, banana ice-cream, mint ice-cream, hard ice-cream, soft ice-cream, ice cream so melted it was just cream-cream, watermelon ice-cream (just checking you're still reading); chocolate donuts and lemon donuts; mint humbugs, chocolate éclairs, and rainbow drops.

"How the hell did you do that? Where did it all come from?" James questioned, wide-eyed at the sheer feast that Sirius had brought. Surely, even a hundred people could not eat all that!

"Magic." Smirked Sirius, though James did not miss the smallest of hints of pink that graced his friends usually pale cheeks. It was cute, in a way, to see his friend embarrassed. He wondered how much work Sirius had put in to organising all this. Had he got the servants to prepare it all, or had he gone through the trouble of doing it himself? He wondered how much Sirius would beat the crap out of him if he told the boy he imagined Sirius would look cute in an apron. It was at this point that Sirius started looking nervous, casting long glances around the room, (still while James was too busy admiring the feast), and shuffling awkwardly. "Um, can you… uh… eat?"

Somehow, James managed to restrain himself from bursting into laughter.

"I think I can eat." he may have been sitting in a hospital bed for three days, but it was mainly his leg that was affected (plus the anaemia from the amount of blood loss), still, he could eat. What he wished for most, was the ability to back away, when Sirius leant in towards his friend, leaning over the bed, until their noses were almost touching. James pushed his head a little further back into his pillow, in some attempt to escape his friends scrutiny. He wondered if pushing the boy away would be considered rude.

"Here." Sirius pouted, shoving a ham sandwich into his friends hands and looking away, returning himself to the chair next to the bed, and not on it. James accepted the sandwich gratefully, slightly perturbed by his friends strange antics. It was almost as if Sirius was upset that James was able to eat on his own. He couldn't help but smile at the idea that Sirius might have wanted to feed him. That, after all, would have been cute.

Okay Potter, really need to stop perving on your best friend now.

He cleared his throat, taking a bite out of his sandwich.

"It's good."

Sirius nodded, not willing to either take or brush away the compliment. Take it and admit that he'd made everything himself, or brush it off and make James think the servants had done it all and that Sirius couldn't care less. Hard decision, therefore, make none. Not that he was that concerned with what James thought or anything, on the contrary, all this attention was simply to open some doors and maybe get James to tell him exactly what Snape had done to him to get him in hospital. After all, Sirius had to have some form of proof before he could get the bastard expelled.

"So, Jamie…" He wasn't entirely sure how to approach the subject. James had been mainly asleep these past days when Sirius came to visit during visiting hours, but the times when Sirius had snuck in at other times, James had kept a tight lip about anything loosely related to Snivellus Snape. "Feeling any better?"

James took another bite from the sandwich, taking it slow so he would still be able to talk afterwards without feel nauseous afterwards. He wasn't in any rush for that feeling again.

"I guess." He took a breath and brought himself up so he felt a bit taller and fuller in the hospital bed. He was about to go on that he was excited for his release in two days, when something in the corner of the room caught his eye. Being laid down on the hospital bed across and to the right of James' was a sandy haired boy, looking weak and pale, and generally in a much worse condition then anyone else in the room. Madam Pomfrey sent the two Gryffindor friends a warning look before drawing the curtains around him.

"Isn't that the reject kid?" asked Sirius, "Loony or something?" James nodded his agreement, it was common knowledge that the boy was mental.

"Lupin." He corrected, as the son of the Governor, it was his job to know the names of every pupil in the school, and their blood status. Lupin was a blood traitor, or social outcast. Basically he wasn't generally accepted.

"He's always in here for some reason or another." Sirius detailed, dragging his gaze away from the curtains that had been drawn around the boy awhile ago. He gave James a grin, but it quickly fled at James' thoughtful expression. He took a deep breath and decided to just go for it. "Snape."

He didn't miss James jump a little. Hell, it wasn't right if James was scared of the prick. He clenched his fists at his side. "What did he do to you?"

James looked away.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't bullshit me James."

James swallowed. He closed his eyes and breathed, once, in and out.

"Snape has nothing to do with anything. I'd appreciate you not bringing that creeps name up when we were having such a nice time."

Sirius grunted his response, picking up a plum and taking a bite into it, avoiding the hard stone in the middle. Sometimes James reminded him to plums. Seemingly soft and bright red with emotion on the outside, then when you stripped away his defences, you found a hard, unmovable stone.

He smiled.

He probably wouldn't have him any other way.

- X -

If Remus Lupin knew one thing in life, it was that you didn't go to Hogwarts if you didn't know your place in the social hierarchy. Sure, the school boasted to be an accepting and wonderful school, but in the end it was just the same as everywhere else. Hell, he'd take every government run junior school and every social-services-rejected senior school put together compared to the crap he had to take at Hogwarts. It was like living in hell, except the devils in hell weren't rich. One moment had changed him from being a half-blood to a social-reject, and it hadn't even been his fault - why blame the child for the sins of the parents? Worst of it all? He'd been allowed a taste of the forbidden fruit before he was chucked down in to the pits of Tartarus. Oh, he could go on.

He lay there, in the hospital bed, listening through the heavy curtains that had been drawn around him, to the voices of his roommates chatting him about him as if he didn't really exist - or perhaps he was something unpleasant that had somehow wormed its way onto the bottom of their shoe. Either way, it wasn't very nice. You'd think after five and a bit years of living in the same dorm room, the boys would at least know his name. Besides, he absolutely hated be called 'loony'. If it hadn't been Sirius Black, and he hadn't been hospitalised, then he was sure that he would have already been fantasying about kicking the jerks ass.

If he'd had the strength. And if it wasn't Sirius Black, because you know, you beat up the most popular guy in school and it's bound to have consequences.

How he wished he didn't have to lay there, with Pomfrey being her usual fussy herself, although not fussy enough to tell those idiots to shut their traps. Pomfrey advertised a caring nurse who didn't differentiate between patients, but it was simple to see that she was the same as every other woman, swayed by a pretty face and a full wallet.

Life would be easier if he was rich.

Life would be easier if he was a pure-blood.

Life would be easier if Sirius Black would shut up.

His arm reached out almost instinctively towards the ceiling, but fell back down over his eyes, blocking out the blinding white of the Hospital that he knew all too well. Every month of every year, one day. Just sitting in wait, probing the curiosity of his classmates and keeping his lips sealed shut in a imitation of mystery. If it wasn't so incredibly annoying, it might have been amusing. He would loved to watch Sirius Black follow him around like a lost puppy in order to find out the secret that was Remus Lupin. Wouldn't it be nice to have Sirius Black on his knees, begging to know the one thing he didn't have at the click of his fingertips? Wouldn't it be nice, to for once be in control of the tormentors that were so controversially loved and hated amongst the other pupils?

Darkness slowly crept over his eyes, letting them drop shut and drowning out the noises that plagued him. Almost as if in meditation, or a hypnotic trance; the sounds around him faded, making everything silent.

Another day laying in wait.

Another day in the white.

His jumper sleeves fell right down over his hands and made for a good pillow - a deep blue, which was a splash of calm amongst the stark white; indifferent in its abnormality.

A white room; white walls, white ceiling and white floor. In the white room is a white chair, in which sits a white man, dressed in white; a white shirt and white trousers, white shoes and a white jacket. He wears a white hat, and underneath, his hair is white.

He wondered if he should tell Madam Pomfrey that most people associated such whiteness with death.

He looked at the sleeve of his jumper, falling right down over his hand, laying motionless on the pillow next to him. It was a deep dark blue, breaking up the colourlessness.

He wished it was white.

He welcomed death.

Even though all of Remus' angsting there was kinda needed for the plot, I felt like it was the most useless and emo piece of writing I've ever done… To make up for that, and my general lack of updating, here! Have a deleted scene!

"Hey Sirius, have you ever noticed when you add 'too' to something it makes it instantly more ominous?"

"It's quiet?"

"Too quiet."

"It's happy?"

"Too happy."

"Yeah, I have. Me too."

"AH! You ominous boy!"

I think you can tell why I didn't put it in. XD

Please review!