Chapter 17: A Scar and a Brother
"Oh, shit," was the first thing James said when he saw his face in the mirror.
It was the next afternoon, and he was in his dormitory. Madame Pomfrey had grudgingly let him leave the Hospital Wing to attend classes, but not before telling him that she was seriously considering locking the door the next time she saw him coming. "I think you get yourself hurt on purpose," she'd said suspiciously. "A boy of your age, especially a Head Boy, shouldn't be getting hurt so often. It's not normal."
He'd laughed when she said that, but now, staring at his reflection in his dormitory, he was far from laughing, so dismayed was he with his appearance. All signs of blood had cleared from the gash on his face, but nevertheless, there was a long scar running down his right cheek, white and raised. There was no hope of going back to Madame Pomfrey and asking her to fix it; he knew she wouldn't have let him leave if she hadn't patched him up to the best of her ability. Now he understood why everyone in his classes had been whispering and looking over at him; he looked frightening.
James remembered that he had been scratched on the chest, and he unbuttoned his shirt to get a good look at it in the mirror. He sighed in disappointment; there was, indeed, a scar that looked just as bad, if not worse, than the one on his face.
Just then, the door to the dormitory opened.
"Oh, hello James--oh, I'm so sorry." It was Marlene, and she turned beet red when she realized his shirt was unbuttoned. "I didn't mean to--God, I'm terribly sorry, I'll just--"
"Sorry!" James said, turning red himself and hastily buttoning his shirt. "I--sorry, what did you want?"
"Nothing!" she said, keeping her eyes trained on the ground. "Sorry, this is just--I'm sorry!"
"You know, it's luck Hestia's not here," James said, desperately trying to think of a way to make the situation less awkward. "She'd kill us for saying sorry so much."
Marlene laughed, and carefully raised her eyes. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw he was decent.
"That's true," she said, "Hestia would…" She trailed off, not saying exactly what Hestia would do. James stared at his shoes, then asked, after clearing his throat,
"Really, did you want something?"
Marlene, whose face had started to resemble its normal color, turned dark red once more.
"Oh, no--I mean, I did, but it's not--don't worry about it. I'll--never mind." She turned hastily, and was about to exit through the door when she turned back around again, a look of resolve on her face.
"I'm really sorry--well, no, I'm not--ignore that, but I just feel badly about what happened to your face." She gestured to her own right cheek.
"And--well, I feel bad for Lily too. I know a little bit, I mean she's in my dormitory, and I wish that there was something I could do." She gave him a questioning look. For a long moment, James stared, until he realized that she wanted him to tell her what she should do. The very thought made his hands tingle. How should he know?
"Well," James said, running a hand through his hair. "I suppose you could figure out something to do…after all, you are in the same dormitory, as you said…"
Marlene bit her lip and nodded.
"Right. Well, I just thought that you could--but of course, you're not…" She trailed off, and then laughed, hard and loud.
"I need to go," she choked out. "I'm being ridiculous." She clutched her side and walked out.
James stared quizzically after her. He'd thought that it was just Lily, but perhaps all girls were strange. He made a move to rub his eyes, but his hand brushed his cheek, making him cry out.
"Bugger," he hissed. He shook his head, then went down to have dinner and ignore people staring at his scar.
***
A tap on his shoulder made James jump. He was halfway through shoving his steak and kidney pie into his mouth; he hadn't realized just how hungry he was until then, and was a little annoyed at the interruption, especially because he saw that the one who was bothering him was Dorcas Meadowes. When she saw she'd gotten his attention, she flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder haughtily.
"Where's the Head Girl?"
Sirius looked up at hearing her voice and began, as discreetly as possible, to inch away. Dorcas noticed, however, and gave him a look of the utmost disgust. James, meanwhile, was quick to take on her offensive tone.
"What d'you want?"
"It's none of your concern, I'll have you know." She eyed his scar distastefully, as though it made him even more repulsive.
"That's fine. I just won't tell you where she is."
Dorcas sighed impatiently.
"It's prefect duties, Potter. That's it. Nothing you'd be concerned with."
James found himself slightly hurt by that remark, but made sure not to let it show.
"As far as I can see, I'm Head Boy. You can tell me whatever you want to tell Lily."
Dorcas looked mildly alarmed.
"I'd rather not, if it's all the same." Dorcas turned around and hurried away before James could say another word, and he leaned back in his chair, baffled. Was he that bad of a Head Boy? He turned to Remus, who was sitting to his left.
"I wonder why she wouldn't tell me?"
Remus looked up from his food and stared at James's face, as though making sure he was being serious. When he saw that he was, he rolled his eyes, shook his head, and went back to eating. James took it that this wasn't a good sign.
"I mean," James continued, louder, "it's not as though I'm that bad, right Peter?"
Peter looked alarmed at having been called upon to answer that particular question.
"Er--" he said hesitantly. "That's not to say that you're--well, I wouldn't know, would I?" He quickly shoveled food into his mouth to prevent himself from saying any more.
"Well, shit," James said, getting irritated. "Sirius, talk to me!"
"Don't listen to Dorcas, mate," Sirius said, his mouth full. "Little bitch thinks she dumped me. As though she would have been able to." He chuckled uneasily, getting little flecks of food on all of them.
James wasn't comforted, seeing the way that Remus and Peter still wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Well, piss it, I'm not as good at helping little twits as Remus or Lily, and I know that occasionally I don't pay attention in meetings--"
Remus coughed, and it sounded suspiciously like a `never'.
"--but I didn't think I was as bad as all that," he finished, shooting Remus a glare.
"Look, Jimmy," Sirius said, having just finished eating his food and moving on to James's, "It's not that you're bad. Hell, you go to meetings, which is more than I'd do. But you're not a bleeding prat like the rest of them are."
James crossed his arms resentfully.
"Well, shit," he said again. "It seems to bother the rest of you lot. Maybe I should become a bleeding prat."
"You're well on your way," Sirius said, putting his fork down while still eyeing some treacle tart. "Keep acting as you have, you'll be a right little Amos Diggory in no time." Amos Diggory had been Head Boy three years before, and had managed to take almost all of Gryffindor's house points away in the first two months.
"Thanks, Sirius," James said. He knew it was ridiculous that this bothered him so much, especially since he had been the one who had been so vehemently against getting the position, but he couldn't help feeling that, given the responsibility, he should have somehow acquired the skills necessary to be a good one. After all, he'd never heard of a Head Boy who wasn't well suited for the position.
"Lupin, what the hell am I supposed to do?"
Remus sighed, evidently thinking the whole thing unworthy of getting so upset over.
"If it bothers you so badly, pay attention at prefect meetings. Make suggestions. Help Lily when she's being attacked by first years."
"Suggestions for what? First years attacked Lily?" This was news to him. He began scanning the first years with his eyes, noting in his head to corner the shifty-looking ones later.
Remus folded his arms and put his head down, signaling an end to his participation in the conversation.
"How 'bout you, Pete?"
Peter gave him a long, incredulous look.
"James," he said gravely, "what the hell do I know?"
It seemed pathetic to James that he knew just about as much as Peter did.
***
Thoughts of his complete failure as an authority figure plagued him endlessly for the next few hours, until, sitting in the common room, he finally decided to do something about it.
"Remus," he said determinedly. "If I were to go about calling an emergency prefect meeting, how would I do it?"
Remus thought for a moment, then said,
"We don't really have a way to go about it. We used to have parchment that would get writing on it when the Heads were calling a meeting, but too many people lost them or didn't check them."
"Right. Er-- but I need to. So. Help, please."
Remus checked his watch.
"James, it's eight-thirty. You can't call a meeting now."
James felt stupid, but decided to persist in a decidedly Sirius-like fashion.
"We've got to do it tonight. Tomorrow Lily's coming back."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Nobody'll take me seriously if she's there!"
"James, be reasonable. It won't make a difference in one day."
"It might!" The look on Remus's face was infuriating, as it said that he clearly thought he was acting like an idiot.
"You wouldn't possibly care to explain your sudden interest in being a good Head Boy?"
"Well, I didn't realize I was a bad one for one thing," James said uncomfortably. "And for another…"
"It's Lily, isn't it?"
"No!" The suggestion made James even madder. The assumption that Lily was responsible for every little change in him was really beginning to bother him, especially since this was one that she actually wasn't responsible for. Remus must have seen this, too, because for the first time a smile swept over his face.
"Well, in that case, good on you," he said. "And that'll make her proud, I'm sure." The tone of Remus's voice suggested that he knew James's exact feelings for her, and, before he could ask, Remus continued,
"I knew before Sirius told us."
"Does everyone?" James asked, running a hand through his hair. Remus smiled mysteriously and didn't say another word. James looked away and saw Sirius, not acting at all his normal self. Instead of sitting in the center of a large group of people, as he was prone to doing when he wasn't with the Marauders, he was sitting distanced from, nearer to the fire than the corner where most others sat. James decided to see what it was, having a feeling that he already knew.
His suspicions were confirmed when Sirius shoved a letter in his face.
"I should have burned it as soon as I got it."
James looked down and saw the overly exaggerated calligraphy that he recognized as Mrs. Black's handwriting.
"What did she want?"
Sirius blew his hair out of his eyes before he responded.
"Apparently, she's decided to go to your mum's Christmas ball and she wants to make sure I don't talk to her. As though I would."
"She wrote just to say that?" He would have expected more to prompt Mrs. Black to pick up her quill and write to Sirius.
"No. Guess Regulus is a Death Eater now, the prat."
James took a step back, aghast.
"You mean he's actually--"
"Yeah. And they're proud of him."
The world around James suddenly seemed dizzy. The revelation of knowing that Voldemort was recruiting fifteen year olds, and knowing that that fifteen year old was Sirius's brother, made him sick.
"I didn't think Regulus would have the spine," Sirius continued darkly. "Apparently, even cowards are going to You-Know-Who's side."
"Who decided that we'd call You-Know-Who You-Know-Who?" James asked, a frown crinkling his brow. Sirius turned to look at him, looking slightly disgusted.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Look, I'm not being stupid, alright?" James said impatiently. "I just wondered when everyone decided that they'd--we'd--be stupid enough to be afraid of his name."
"When he decided to choose Regulus for one of his servants, apparently," Sirius said. "Why, you planning on going up to him and addressing him by his proper name anytime soon?"
"Shut it."
Sirius shook his head and threw the letter into the fireplace. The flames leapt up and danced brightly, but to James, a subtle darkness seemed to settle. It made him feel tired, and not just physically. Mentally, he was drained from all the effort it took to try and continue to act normal though his friendship with Sirius seemed to grow more and more volatile. Watching Sirius struggle not to look like none of what his mother had written had bothered him in the least, James found himself longing for their old sense of companionship, because he understood it so much that it was like watching himself. As he acknowledged this, he knew that he would have to be the one to bridge the gap between them.
"Look," James sighed finally. "Before, when you were talking about--when you were talking about us being half-friends, I understood what you meant. And I'm tired of it, okay?"
"Well, I already said that," Sirius said darkly.
"Shut up. If you would just stop treating me like a dolt--"
"If you would stop acting like I'm always in the wrong--"
James made a loud noise in his throat, causing them both to fall silent, staring at one another. He took deep breaths, then said, as nicely as he could manage,
"We're the same, remember? We've got miserable families and pure blood up to our ears--"
"I'll say," Sirius muttered.
"--and that's why we became friends in the first place. And…well…" James trailed off; he knew what he wanted to say, but he couldn't bring himself; it sounded too stupid, too sappy.
"Just say it. I'll think you're a dolt either way." In spite of what he said, Sirius began to grin. James looked away, and, after clearing his throat, he said,
"You're like my brother. And not in a dumb way, not like…drug brothers, or whatever the hell you want to call it, like real ones."
"No revelation there. We've always said that," Sirius said, though James thought that his voice sounded slightly odd, like he was trying not to let any emotion betray what it meant to him. They were silent for a long time, until Sirius said,
"So, you're really going to try to be a good Head Boy?"
James had to think for a second before he remembered what he meant. For some reason, the whole Head Boy situation seemed something that happened long ago.
"Yeah, I suppose I am."
"And there's no way I can convince you to change your mind?"
"Probably not."
"Not even if I exercise my authority as your brother?"
"Especially if you do. Nobody listens to their brother. That's probably why you're mine."
"Shit. I knew there was a reason you were being so nice about it."
James laughed, feeling his exhaustion evaporate. For the first time since the Moony incident, he was feeling at ease talking to Sirius. In a way it surprised him how quickly their friendship seemed to have healed itself, but then, he thought, it had probably been mending all along; it just took one them realizing that they had been too stupid to admit it, which, James could tell, Sirius had done as well as he had. They resumed a conversation like one they would have had a few months earlier, and a few minutes later, Sirius happened to ask,
"So, you prat, does Evans know the fifteenth's your birthday?"
"And when the hell would I get a chance to tell her that?"
"Sometime just after you wipe her nose and just before you tell her you want to snog her senseless."
"I bet that's what you'd do, too, all the tact you've got. No wonder Dorcas dumped you."
Sirius stiffened.
"She did not dump me. I have never been dumped." James raised his eyebrows at how sensitively Sirius took this remark, which could mean only one thing; she had. After a good minute, he sighed, and as he did the truth came out.
"I was going to dump her! I was just being nice and thought she'd take a hint!"
"You were still snogging her, weren't you?"
Sirius crossed his arms sullenly.
"Only once or twice."
Something in his voice said that there was something he wasn't saying, and though James suspected what it was, he didn't want to ask about it. But now was a truth telling of sorts, so James asked, slowly,
"You shagged her, didn't you?"
"No!" But his face turned red, and James could see right through him. James groaned and put his head in his hands.
"Only once!"
"You were trying to get away from her in Diagon Alley! What the hell makes someone--why would you--"
"I didn't make her! She practically forced me to, she was--"
"I don't want to hear about it!" James shouted quickly, bringing his hands to his ears, "Keep it to yourself!"
"I wasn't going to say any more," Sirius said haughtily. "But she dumped me two days later! What girl does that?"
"It sounds like something you would do."
"It sounds like something a womanizer would do."
"Same thing."
"Shut up."
"But I guess in this case, she could be called a manizer, couldn't she?"
"Are you trying to be funny?" It was obvious that Sirius had had enough of this subject, but James, hearing that Dorcas had been the instigator of everything Sirius was usually responsible for, found it highly amusing.
"I just never thought I'd see the day when you were dumped."
"I dumped her. That's the story, understand?"
"Whatever. I understand this must be a sensitive time for you."
"That's it, I disown you. We are no longer brothers."
James laughed, and the room seemed to be filled with more light and color than he remembered it having a few moments before.
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