"Mr. Potter, isn't it rather early to be bringing in Mr. Lupin—oh my goodness!" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey, her hands flying to cover her mouth in shock. The seasoned matron, typically calm, was momentarily taken aback as James Potter, his robes stained with Harriet's blood, urgently carried the unconscious girl into the hospital wing with long strides.
The matron rapidly composed herself and acted without delay. James, with a mix of panic and shock on his face, gently placed Harriet on one of the beds. Madam Pomfrey, her wand at the ready, efficiently examined the unconscious girl with worry still sitting at the back of her throat at the sight of the large wound on Harriet's back.
"Mr. Potter, you need to explain what happened," Madam Pomfrey demanded, her tone a blend of concern and authority. As she assessed the extent of Harriet's injuries, her gaze bore into James, seeking answers to why the girl was brought in that way.
"I didn't know!" James exclaimed, his voice trembling with panic. His bloodied, quivering fingers ran through his now disheveled hair, eyes wide with shock and guilt. Distress etched every line of his face, mirroring the turmoil in his heart. "It was just supposed to be me, Sirius, and Peter tonight. We didn't know how Harriet had managed to follow us. We didn't know she knew Moony's secret at all!"
Madam Pomfrey, typically composed, grumbled in frustration. Her furrowed brow and skeptical expression reflected the incredulity of the situation. "What on earth went into this girl's mind?"
In a state of distress, James pleaded for answers, his eyes searching for reassurance. "Will she be okay?"
"I do not know for sure, darling," Madam Pomfrey replied with a heavy sigh. Her worn expression conveyed the weight of the responsibility she held as she studied the female who drew ragged breaths.
Hours passed with Madam Pomfrey working diligently, casting spells and employing her healing expertise to tend to Harriet's injuries. The room seemed to shrink as the seconds ticked by, and the weight of uncertainty pressed down on James. He sat on the chair next to her bed, a silent witness to the consequences of a night that had taken a dire turn.
The hospital wing was shrouded in a hushed tension, broken only by the occasional clinking of medical instruments and the soft incantations muttered by the matron. James clenched and unclenched his fists, unable to tear his eyes away from Harriet's still form on the bed. Guilt gnawed at him, fueled by the fear that he might lose someone he had unwittingly endangered and unknowingly cared for.
And knowing that he and Harriet parted with an unfixed relationship added more weight to his shoulders. It was suffocating, to say the least. James wasn't one to get overwhelmed by his emotions, yet, this was different. He found it difficult to swallow when he saw her, but he couldn't bring himself to look away, fearing that she might disappear. Unknowingly, tears filled his eyes as frustration and guilt came to consume him. After all, this was a lot for a 15-year-old boy to take in.
The door creaked open, drawing James's weary gaze. Remus Lupin entered, flanked by Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. Their collective guilt mirrored James's, an unspoken acknowledgment of the shared responsibility for the night's calamity.
Remus swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper, "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."
Sirius shot him a sympathetic look, placing a comforting hand on the taller boy's shoulder. "None of us did, Moony."
Peter, quieter but no less burdened, nodded in solemn agreement. Together, they approached Harriet's bedside, their expressions mirrors of regret. Madam Pomfrey, sensing the heaviness in the room, paused in her work, her gaze shifting between the trio, James, and the injured girl.
