It was raining, but only softly, creating a quiet, soothing melody on the
ground below his feet. He didn't know where he was, but the air was warm
and he was wearing a light green robe that fluttered around him slowly. He
was standing in a field, just an empty green field devoid of life save for
Mother Nature's children. The sun was out, he observed; the pale yellow orb
hung high up in the sky above the raindrops. How odd, he thought as he
reached his hand out in front of him, it's sun-raining.
Suddenly the scene went blank and a second later he found himself running, running as fast as he could. His lungs heaved as his legs propelled him forward across the rocky ground. He desperately wanted to stop and allow his screaming body to rest but he knew he couldn't; he had to keep going. He was running through the same field again, towards the hill that was up ahead, the hill that would bring him safety. He stumbled up the loose pebbles and took a flying leap over a boulder, tensing up as he got ready to land.
There was nothing to land on. He found himself falling down a dark, blank space where the hill dropped off into a cliff that never seemed to end... he was falling farther and farther into blackness... falling away...
James Potter's body gave an involuntary jerk as he tried to grab onto something to save himself. His right hand came in contact with a soft, textured material and he groped around for a few seconds as his mind straddled the conscious and unconscious worlds. He heard himself groan as his limbs creaked into motion and he figured he must have finally reached the bottom. He was surprised he was still alive... or was he? He heard whispers faintly in the background- strange, frantic whispers. Perhaps he was dead and they were ghosts. His mouth was dry and heavy and for the first time he noticed that his body was on fire. A sudden, sharp pain erupted from his temples, causing his eyelids to fly open in surprise.
At first he blinked furiously, attempting to adjust to the annoyingly bright light that seemed to be penetrating from every direction. After a few minutes of rolling his eyes and writhing around, he looked up and saw a blurry face peering at him from his feet... except, he couldn't even see his feet. He squinted downward and could only see a fuzzy dark material...maybe it was the ground. His mind went blank. The room seemed oddly familiar. Maybe...
A couple agonizing seconds later he realized he lying was in a slightly stiff bed, which only meant one thing. He was in the hospital wing. It could only be the hospital wing. Coarse woolen blankets were piled on top of him for some reason, and the only thought he had at the moment was to get them off. He struggled underneath the mountainous heap as his weak body protested, and for a fleeting moment he wondered why he was there to begin with.
The face at the end of the bed that he had temporarily forgotten made a sudden noise and then edged closer. James froze and looked up squinting until the pale, roundish features of someone familiar met his vision. He furrowed his eyebrows confusedly.
"Peter?" James croaked groggily, launching himself into a coughing fit from lack of moisture in his throat. He heard Peter say his name and then watched in dismay as the boy scurried off and began calling out loudly, making his head throb. The next thing he knew, Madam Pomfrey had bolted over and was shoving some sort of potion down his throat and scolding him loudly for having gone outside in such weather. She hurried off again before he could ask her what he was doing here. He couldn't remember anything about going outside.
For a moment his mind seemed to hang in free fall until finally it hit him. His head spun wildly as the events of the entire morning came flashing through his head, beginning and ending with an image of...her. James felt sick to his stomach and he quickly gripped side of the bed and leaned over, depositing whatever happened to be in his stomach at the moment right onto the floor.
Right afterwards, a warm feeling overcame his body and he rolled back into bed, shutting his eyes and inhaling deeply. He heard footsteps running in his direction and he wished that whoever it was would go away so he could go back to sleep. The sounds of a muffled argument reached his ears and he opened his eyes just in time to see Remus and Sirius slide across the floor and bump into the end of his bed. An angry Madam Pomphrey caught up a few seconds later with Peter practically in a headlock. James was aware of her voice reprimanding his friends but he smiled subconsciously at the sight of them.
"Prongs! Alright there?" Sirius yelped excitedly, ignoring the witch that was screaming into his ear. James nodded sheepishly and made a move to get out of bed.
"Oh no you don't, Potter!" Madam Pomphrey screeched and quickly hurried to his side, smartly maneuvering the sheets and blankets back up to his neck so he lay pinned down in bed under them. He groaned. Bested by the old witch yet again. One day, he vowed, he would make it out of that bed.
"Black. Lupin. How many times do I have to tell you?" A wary look crossed her face and she shook her head in defeat. "Ah, that's right. You never listen anyway," she said exasperatedly. "You have ten minutes. That's it!" she barked and then stalked off after cleaning up the floor.
All four boys stared after her for a minute or so until she disappeared into another room and they were alone. Sirius turned to James quietly and said, "So, really, how are you? We were worried sick." He pulled up the only chair and deposited himself into the seat heavily, leaning his head in his hand.
"I'm fine, Padfoot," James answered wearily. They probably knew he had gone outside. He didn't want them to know; they always knew too much. He just wanted to be alone now. A wave of tiredness spread across his body again and his limbs felt heavy and plastered to the bed. He wanted desperately to look out a window but he was too tired to get up and turn around. The storm seemed to have calmed down surprisingly quickly.
"What time is it?" he asked slowly. How long had he been asleep? He had homework to do. There was a Potions essay due Monday, astrology sheets to fill out, charms research to be done, transfiguration readings, Defense-
"About seven in the morning," Remus said, cutting off his thoughts and eyeing him sharply. Remus stared at James, his face taut and unreadable. There was an odd glint in his eyes and James was sure it wasn't just a reflection of the light outside.
"Seven? But how can that be?" He said in a perplexed manner, struggling to sit up and see the clock on a different side of the room. He was pretty sure it had been seven when he had gone into the rain. Craning his ears to locate any sounds from outside, he drew confused glances from his friends. Silence. No patter of rain against the window. No swirling winds that called to him. It seemed... calm.
"James, it's Sunday." Remus looked up at him with sad eyes.
"Oh," he replied quietly. He drew his knees up to his chest. "I've been asleep for that long?" Remus nodded.
"Oh." He added, "Sorry."
"Don't be," Sirius said, leaning forward and glancing at Remus. James decided he did not like their exchanged glances.
"We've been visiting you nonstop, James. I was on watch," Peter piped up. James nodded morosely. He still wanted to look out the window. He could see a faint light streaming through and reflecting on the various glass objects on the shelves across from him. The light was too dim for the sun to be out, but too bright for there to be black clouds in the sky again.
"So. Anything interesting happen while I was out?" James finally asked. He couldn't believe he had been asleep for so long. He could barely remember what had happened. One minute he was getting drenched and freezing to the bone outside, the next he was dry and overly hot inside. "Actually, how did I get here?" he said before anyone could answer the first question.
Sirius smiled. "Hagrid found you." James smothered a slight grin. Trust Hagrid to find me, he thought.
The sound of Remus coughing made James look up and eye Sirius and the former shrewdly as they shot each other another look. Remus noticed James staring at them and his face visibly opened up. He looked worried. He didn't wait for James to ask.
"Yes. Things have happened while you were out. Look." He tossed James a rolled up newspaper, the Daily Prophet. James detected faint smears of jelly along the edges, and as he unrolled the paper a few crumbs fell out into his lap. He soon forgot about them when his eyes fell upon the front page.
"Dark Mark Makes First Appearance In Over A Year..."
James eyes sped across the lines of the article, getting increasingly wider as he read further. This couldn't be happening. The Dark Mark. His father had warned him.
"Times are changing, James. The fear will not go away." The deep voice echoed deafeningly in his head. A few seconds later James finished reading the article and slowly looked up at his friends, staring at their blank faces.
"Yeah," Remus whispered, nodding his head. The dull light filtered through the cobwebbed windows and lay upon the slightly chilly room. James felt warm and cold at the same time, warm from the blankets and cold from... was it fear? He could not fear. Fear would let the other side win. Fear had caused seven people to die.
"And not only that," Sirius's voice cracked as he began to speak, "Peter says the Slytherins were having some sort of weird meeting that morning he went down to their common room." Peter nodded.
"Weird meeting?" James asked, pushing back the covers.
"Lestrange and a few others were huddled in a corner and talking quietly. No one really noticed, or cared probably. It was hard to hear what they were saying," Peter answered quickly. He looked up and thought. "I think I saw both Lestranges, that Rosier bloke, Avery... I can't remember their names," he whimpered apologetically.
"It's alright, Wormtail," James said. "Good job." Peter half-smiled.
"I think that-"
"That's enough! You've had twelve minutes already! Out! Out!" Madam Pomphrey came bustling around a corner and began ushering the three boys out of the room despite their protests. James smiled as Sirius clung dramatically onto the edge of the bed and began wailing loudly. Four threats of detention later, James was alone again.
Suddenly the scene went blank and a second later he found himself running, running as fast as he could. His lungs heaved as his legs propelled him forward across the rocky ground. He desperately wanted to stop and allow his screaming body to rest but he knew he couldn't; he had to keep going. He was running through the same field again, towards the hill that was up ahead, the hill that would bring him safety. He stumbled up the loose pebbles and took a flying leap over a boulder, tensing up as he got ready to land.
There was nothing to land on. He found himself falling down a dark, blank space where the hill dropped off into a cliff that never seemed to end... he was falling farther and farther into blackness... falling away...
James Potter's body gave an involuntary jerk as he tried to grab onto something to save himself. His right hand came in contact with a soft, textured material and he groped around for a few seconds as his mind straddled the conscious and unconscious worlds. He heard himself groan as his limbs creaked into motion and he figured he must have finally reached the bottom. He was surprised he was still alive... or was he? He heard whispers faintly in the background- strange, frantic whispers. Perhaps he was dead and they were ghosts. His mouth was dry and heavy and for the first time he noticed that his body was on fire. A sudden, sharp pain erupted from his temples, causing his eyelids to fly open in surprise.
At first he blinked furiously, attempting to adjust to the annoyingly bright light that seemed to be penetrating from every direction. After a few minutes of rolling his eyes and writhing around, he looked up and saw a blurry face peering at him from his feet... except, he couldn't even see his feet. He squinted downward and could only see a fuzzy dark material...maybe it was the ground. His mind went blank. The room seemed oddly familiar. Maybe...
A couple agonizing seconds later he realized he lying was in a slightly stiff bed, which only meant one thing. He was in the hospital wing. It could only be the hospital wing. Coarse woolen blankets were piled on top of him for some reason, and the only thought he had at the moment was to get them off. He struggled underneath the mountainous heap as his weak body protested, and for a fleeting moment he wondered why he was there to begin with.
The face at the end of the bed that he had temporarily forgotten made a sudden noise and then edged closer. James froze and looked up squinting until the pale, roundish features of someone familiar met his vision. He furrowed his eyebrows confusedly.
"Peter?" James croaked groggily, launching himself into a coughing fit from lack of moisture in his throat. He heard Peter say his name and then watched in dismay as the boy scurried off and began calling out loudly, making his head throb. The next thing he knew, Madam Pomfrey had bolted over and was shoving some sort of potion down his throat and scolding him loudly for having gone outside in such weather. She hurried off again before he could ask her what he was doing here. He couldn't remember anything about going outside.
For a moment his mind seemed to hang in free fall until finally it hit him. His head spun wildly as the events of the entire morning came flashing through his head, beginning and ending with an image of...her. James felt sick to his stomach and he quickly gripped side of the bed and leaned over, depositing whatever happened to be in his stomach at the moment right onto the floor.
Right afterwards, a warm feeling overcame his body and he rolled back into bed, shutting his eyes and inhaling deeply. He heard footsteps running in his direction and he wished that whoever it was would go away so he could go back to sleep. The sounds of a muffled argument reached his ears and he opened his eyes just in time to see Remus and Sirius slide across the floor and bump into the end of his bed. An angry Madam Pomphrey caught up a few seconds later with Peter practically in a headlock. James was aware of her voice reprimanding his friends but he smiled subconsciously at the sight of them.
"Prongs! Alright there?" Sirius yelped excitedly, ignoring the witch that was screaming into his ear. James nodded sheepishly and made a move to get out of bed.
"Oh no you don't, Potter!" Madam Pomphrey screeched and quickly hurried to his side, smartly maneuvering the sheets and blankets back up to his neck so he lay pinned down in bed under them. He groaned. Bested by the old witch yet again. One day, he vowed, he would make it out of that bed.
"Black. Lupin. How many times do I have to tell you?" A wary look crossed her face and she shook her head in defeat. "Ah, that's right. You never listen anyway," she said exasperatedly. "You have ten minutes. That's it!" she barked and then stalked off after cleaning up the floor.
All four boys stared after her for a minute or so until she disappeared into another room and they were alone. Sirius turned to James quietly and said, "So, really, how are you? We were worried sick." He pulled up the only chair and deposited himself into the seat heavily, leaning his head in his hand.
"I'm fine, Padfoot," James answered wearily. They probably knew he had gone outside. He didn't want them to know; they always knew too much. He just wanted to be alone now. A wave of tiredness spread across his body again and his limbs felt heavy and plastered to the bed. He wanted desperately to look out a window but he was too tired to get up and turn around. The storm seemed to have calmed down surprisingly quickly.
"What time is it?" he asked slowly. How long had he been asleep? He had homework to do. There was a Potions essay due Monday, astrology sheets to fill out, charms research to be done, transfiguration readings, Defense-
"About seven in the morning," Remus said, cutting off his thoughts and eyeing him sharply. Remus stared at James, his face taut and unreadable. There was an odd glint in his eyes and James was sure it wasn't just a reflection of the light outside.
"Seven? But how can that be?" He said in a perplexed manner, struggling to sit up and see the clock on a different side of the room. He was pretty sure it had been seven when he had gone into the rain. Craning his ears to locate any sounds from outside, he drew confused glances from his friends. Silence. No patter of rain against the window. No swirling winds that called to him. It seemed... calm.
"James, it's Sunday." Remus looked up at him with sad eyes.
"Oh," he replied quietly. He drew his knees up to his chest. "I've been asleep for that long?" Remus nodded.
"Oh." He added, "Sorry."
"Don't be," Sirius said, leaning forward and glancing at Remus. James decided he did not like their exchanged glances.
"We've been visiting you nonstop, James. I was on watch," Peter piped up. James nodded morosely. He still wanted to look out the window. He could see a faint light streaming through and reflecting on the various glass objects on the shelves across from him. The light was too dim for the sun to be out, but too bright for there to be black clouds in the sky again.
"So. Anything interesting happen while I was out?" James finally asked. He couldn't believe he had been asleep for so long. He could barely remember what had happened. One minute he was getting drenched and freezing to the bone outside, the next he was dry and overly hot inside. "Actually, how did I get here?" he said before anyone could answer the first question.
Sirius smiled. "Hagrid found you." James smothered a slight grin. Trust Hagrid to find me, he thought.
The sound of Remus coughing made James look up and eye Sirius and the former shrewdly as they shot each other another look. Remus noticed James staring at them and his face visibly opened up. He looked worried. He didn't wait for James to ask.
"Yes. Things have happened while you were out. Look." He tossed James a rolled up newspaper, the Daily Prophet. James detected faint smears of jelly along the edges, and as he unrolled the paper a few crumbs fell out into his lap. He soon forgot about them when his eyes fell upon the front page.
"Dark Mark Makes First Appearance In Over A Year..."
James eyes sped across the lines of the article, getting increasingly wider as he read further. This couldn't be happening. The Dark Mark. His father had warned him.
"Times are changing, James. The fear will not go away." The deep voice echoed deafeningly in his head. A few seconds later James finished reading the article and slowly looked up at his friends, staring at their blank faces.
"Yeah," Remus whispered, nodding his head. The dull light filtered through the cobwebbed windows and lay upon the slightly chilly room. James felt warm and cold at the same time, warm from the blankets and cold from... was it fear? He could not fear. Fear would let the other side win. Fear had caused seven people to die.
"And not only that," Sirius's voice cracked as he began to speak, "Peter says the Slytherins were having some sort of weird meeting that morning he went down to their common room." Peter nodded.
"Weird meeting?" James asked, pushing back the covers.
"Lestrange and a few others were huddled in a corner and talking quietly. No one really noticed, or cared probably. It was hard to hear what they were saying," Peter answered quickly. He looked up and thought. "I think I saw both Lestranges, that Rosier bloke, Avery... I can't remember their names," he whimpered apologetically.
"It's alright, Wormtail," James said. "Good job." Peter half-smiled.
"I think that-"
"That's enough! You've had twelve minutes already! Out! Out!" Madam Pomphrey came bustling around a corner and began ushering the three boys out of the room despite their protests. James smiled as Sirius clung dramatically onto the edge of the bed and began wailing loudly. Four threats of detention later, James was alone again.