Chapter 19: Handsome Little Liars
Even by Harry's standards, dinner was odd. He sat with Sirius, James and Peter, as had become customary, but unlike usual the other boys did not attack the offered foods as soon as they appeared on the table. They all waited as if they weren't sure what they wanted until Harry selected a bit of roast and potatoes and veg. Once the food was on his plate and well on its way to his mouth, the others started choosing their own meals. They ignored the roast and the potatoes and the veg in favour of chicken, rolls and salad. Even Peter, who enjoyed eating a bit of everything in increasingly disgusting combinations failed to select any of the foods Harry had chosen.
As much as he wanted to comment on their odd behaviour, he elected to ignore it.
"Has anyone been to check on Remus?" Harry asked and watched as the panic overtook their faces for a fraction of a second.
"Yeah," James said. "I saw him after lunch. He wasn't looking too well. Madam Pomfrey's having him spend the night."
Harry nodded and withheld his observation that James had, in fact, gone straight to their dormitory after lunch and remained there until they left for dinner together. This stomach sickness rubbish was clearly their plan to keep him from knowing about Remus's condition, and he was not about to spoil it for them. So he just nodded a second time and tucked another bite of roast into his mouth. It was good, and if he could have stomached it he would have eaten every bit of roast and potatoes on the table since no one else wanted it.
"Eat a bit more," Sirius elbowed him gently in his bony ribs. "Moony's not here to help me force you, so you'll have to manage it on your own." He winked, reminding Harry of the boy's cousin, the teasing Nymphadora Tonks. Perhaps it ran in their family, or maybe Tonks had picked it up from Sirius.
"Well, since it's you…" Harry shrugged and took another bite of potatoes.
"Will that work regardless of what I tell you to do?" Sirius wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
A smirk pulled slowly at his mouth as if he were considering what Sirius might ask of him, "Probably."
"I'm making a mental note," the handsome Gryffindor said. "I may hold you to that later."
"Don't make promises you can't keep," Harry said. The words were so like those he had used earlier, but his mood was light and teasing this time. Sirius could not stop his grin from growing even wider.
"You're almost as bad as Moony," James snorted. "And I didn't think anyone could rival him when it came to fake flirting with Padfoot."
Sirius sniffed in mock indignation. "Who says I'm fake flirting?"
Harry just shrugged and continued to chew his food. He appeared undisturbed by the comment, but his mind was in upheaval and threatened to take his delicate stomach along with it. He hadn't actually realised that what he was doing was flirting; he thought he was just talking playfully in the same manner he did with Tonks. Was he really flirting? Did that mean that he had been flirting with Tonks, too? Was that normal? Was this normal? Should he stop?
He liked talking with Tonks and Sirius that way. It was fun and slightly challenging in a way that nothing else was. His ears and tongue and brain had to stay focused on the whole person before him, taking in their words as well as their mannerisms to create the perfect comeback as quickly as possible. Say it even a second too late, and the moment was lost.
'So what if I'm flirting?' Harry thought. 'What's the harm?'
Sirius did not appear overly concerned, either, but they had already established that he did not particularly care what people thought of him or which sex he pursued. Although, that being said, did that mean that this teenage version of his Godfather was properly interested in him?
'Surely not,' Harry told himself. 'He would have said something outright, wouldn't he? Anyway, I look too like his best mate. Sirius would never go for someone who looks so much like James.'
After the brief moment of silence, Sirius deftly moved the conversation to Quidditch and the competition from the other house teams. Apparently, it was the easiest topic to ensure everyone was included and comfortable. Harry ate in silence, nodding his head in agreement, but offering no opinions of his own without prompting. He was so intent on keeping his mouth occupied with food to avoid having to talk that he ended up eating three times his usual portion, winning him a sharp stomach cramp before dessert appeared.
"I ate too much, I need to go lie down or something," he apologised and pushed himself away from the table.
"Are you all right?" James asked. He was clearly worried, just not strictly about Harry; if the boy got too sick, he might end up going to the hospital wing in the night and discover they were not there. James did not imagine such an absence would go overlooked by their new friend. It was tempting to just tell him and be done with it, but it was Moony's secret to share not his.
"I'll be fine," Harry shook off the hand Sirius offered. "Just need a bit of a lie down… or a throw up." He laughed and left the Great Hall. Hermione was up and after him instantly.
"Is that level of sibling concern normal?" James wondered. He was an only child and truly didn't know.
"I would tend to say 'no' but we know how rubbish my family is," Sirius said lightly, glancing across the hall to the Slytherin table where his younger brother sat among his elitist friends. Regulus would never chase after him because he had a stomach cramp. Years ago, he might have, but not since they were in separate houses – both in and out of Hogwarts.
James's frown stayed fixed to his face long after their voices dropped to low mutters and the conversation turned to Remus and his coming changes. Even as they planned their night's excursion, his brain stayed focused on Harry. "Something's off," he said after their night was arranged. "With the Grangers, I mean… There's something seriously weird there and I can't sort out what it is."
Peter nodded vigorously. He still didn't believe a word of what Harry said about Evans reminding him of his mum. The boy was after James's girl, he was sure of it.
Sirius shrugged, "Why do you think I've been working so hard to make nice with him?"
"I figured you wanted to snog him," James said with a grin that fell as he continued, "Mind you, it is a bit creepy, you going after a bloke that looks so much like me… Is there something you haven't been telling me?"
"Yeah," the boy whispered, low and seductive, as he leaned in so close he could have kissed his friend. "Your new jumper is ruddy marvellous. I'm planning on stealing it when your back is turned."
"Pads," his friend sighed, "I've already said what's mine is yours, so you can have it if you like… but it won't fit you."
Sirius sat back and hung his head. "I know," he said. "It's a damn shame you're so small. Your mum gives you the best jumpers. It's not fair!"
"Come on, Pads," James smiled. "You're practically a Potter now. Mum'll be buying you jumpers left and right. Come New Year, you'll be drowning in them."
"I'm holding you to that," the boy said. "I'm sick of you always looking better than me."
Peter snorted as their playful argument continued and all thoughts of Harry and Hermione fell away in favour of light hearts and loose tongues. They had a long night ahead of them, and a bit of fun was all they really wanted before it was time to fake illness and lie to their strange new friend.
It had been decided that Peter would initiate the lie. He was best when it came to skiving off, having successfully talked his way out of twenty-three classes by feigning illness. That might have had a good deal to do with his current number of NEWT-level classes, but at the moment that particular failing had little bearing on matters. As they sat in their dorm, James and Sirius lounging on Remus's bed even though the boy wasn't there and Peter sitting on the floor opposite, they watched Harry surreptitiously. The boy was sitting up in bed, reading, one hand pressed into his stomach in an effort to quell the pain.
"How's the stomach?" James asked.
"Still hurts," Harry said, slightly annoyed at being asked the same question again.
"You sure you don't need to head to hospital?" he asked, his voice betraying none of the desperate pleas of 'Say no, please, please say no' that were running through his brain.
"No, I'll be fine," Harry said and focused on his book as best as the pain in his gut would allow.
With his head down, Harry could not see the furious but silent conversations taking place across the room. James and Sirius gestured for Peter to hurry up and fake illness so they could get to the Shrieking Shack, but the boy refused to be rushed. He knew his phony illnesses better than anyone; real food poisoning would take another twenty minutes to set in. So despite James's insistent gestures and the pillow Sirius threw at him, he waited.
Fifteen minutes later, Peter groaned.
"What—?" Harry asked. He didn't have time to complete his question as Peter turned pale, covered his mouth and scrambled for the door. They could hear him retching in the washroom and his own pained stomach turned with the disgusting sound.
"Damn," James muttered, picking up on Peter's cue. "And I thought I was the only one feeling that horrible."
"Me, too," Sirius said. "I was hoping Harry'd want to go see Poppy so I'd have an excuse to go." He made a face like he was going to throw up. "Let's go, before we put Harry off his food."
Harry nodded his understanding. "I just ate too much, I'm okay. The roast and all that was fine," he said and finally grasped their strange behaviour about choosing what they ate at dinner. "Pity you didn't eat that instead." The pair of Marauders agreed and hurried from the room, clutching their mouths and stomachs. Harry heard their feet on the stairs and knew they were heading to the Shrieking Shack to help Remus survive another full moon.
He hated that they were lying to him.
But he was lying to them, too. Nearly everything he told them was untrue to a degree. His name, his school, his friends, his family, all of it was in some way altered to keep them in the dark. Harry James Potter was nothing anymore. He finally had the ability to speak to his family, make them proud and tell them all the things he had done… and he couldn't. He couldn't say a word to change anything or even let them know how important they would be.
He threw his book aside angrily.
"Dammit, Potter," he swore at himself and was amazed that after only a week his real surname sounded slightly wrong, "calm down before you do something stupid."
He took in a deep breath and let it out so slowly his head started to grow light from want of oxygen. Disconcerting as that ought to have been, he felt calmer for it and knew what he had to do.
It had been nearly a month since he had last focused his mind in meditation. Finding the time and space had been easy at his Aunt and Uncle's house as he had nothing to do and no one ever came to his room, but at the Burrow there was always someone there. The lopsided house was filled with people and noise. Harry never had a moment except in the night, but after spending his days with Tonks and the Weasleys all he could do was sleep fitfully. He should have been more diligent. If he had been calmer or more aware, he and Hermione would never have gotten stuck in the mess they were in.
He had to gain more control, especially if he was going to maintain the illusion before James and Sirius and keep from attacking Peter. He dropped onto the floor and settled himself in for a long night of clearing his mind. None of the boys would be returning until morning. He had the room entirely to himself.
Letting out a sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and started counting his breaths.