Small Steps || 4 November 1971
Remus, it seemed, had the immune system of a newborn baby.
James had brushed it off in September, of course - it was autumn, and the cold weather was beginning to settle in on the tail-end of summer, and of course, people were bound to get sick. And then he was sick in October, spending time in the hospital wing after a couple of days of looking like a slight breeze could push him over, but James had barely raised an eyebrow at it.
Now, three months in, Remus was sick for a third time, and James was determined to do something about it. What sort of friend would he be if he just let Remus suffer through it like he had the other two times? The worst kind, and certainly not the kind that Remus would like having around for the next seven years.
With that in mind, once heâd gotten word that Remus was to be released from the hospital wing that afternoon after classes, James had made it a personal mission to be waiting for the other boy in the common room, hoping to catch him before he disappeared off to catch up on whatever homework. Thankfully, the package from Euphemia had arrived in a few days ago, featuring an array of sweets and chocolate bars, and while James wasnât sure exactly what was making Remus so sick, he knew it was nothing a bit of chocolate couldnât help.
Determined not to move until he could talk to Remus, James sat on one of the couches, waiting for him to pass through the portrait hole.
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