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Henry the Eighth


Bilius had another whole butterbeer and rum before Rosmerta cut him off. When he stood up and nearly toppled over, Sirius and James jumped up and offered to take him back to his room at the inn. “We’ll catch you up,” Sirius told Peter and Remus.

Remus nodded, knowing his wheelchair and Peter’s Peter-ness would only be in the way in depositing Bilius off at his room. “We’ll go to Honeydukes,” Remus said. “C’mon Peter.” They took off, Peter waving to Bilius before going on and on telling Remus about the chocolate frogs and snacks he’d decided to buy when he was making his list the night before.

James and Sirius each took an arm and James dumped enough galleons on the table to cover the whole meal and then some as a tip for Rosmerta, and they headed out into the street with Bilius, who was laughing boisterously. “You lot have gotten so tall,” he was saying, “There was a time you couldn’t have done this and it seems like only yesterday! Only yesterday we were all sitting about in the common room and mucking around - you lot and me and Alex and Derek.” The name broke in Bilius’s mouth as he said it and he hastily went on, “You were ickle little things then! Just ickle little things!”

Sirius tugged Bilius’s arm to steady him more on his shoulder and he glanced ‘round his chest to look at James with knowing eyes. James looked downright miserable about the whole thing. Sirius sighed as Bilius started singing loudly, attempting to dance and nearly knocking the two of them over. “I’m Henry the Eighth, I am, Henry the eighth, I am, I am… I got married to the widow next door, she’s been married seven times before and every one of them was an Henry! She wouldn’t have a willy or a Sam - NO SAM! - I’m her eighth old man, I am, I’m HENERY! HENERY THE EIGHTH I AM!” Bilius was shouting the lyrics before they’d reached the inn, and they were pitching about trying to keep him upright. “Second verse -- same as the first!” he laughed.

“No more verses mate,” said Sirius, nodding to the bewildered looking witch at the desk as they stepped into the inn. “Do you have your room key, Bil?”

“I’m ‘ENERY! ‘ENERY THE EIGHTH I AM I AM!” Bilius had already started in.

James quickly fished about Bilius’s pockets and found the key folded up in one of them. Sirius shook it for the witch and they started up the stairs to Bilius’s room. The room was pretty boring, very sparsely furnished, and sort of grey with nondescript bedding. A bag lay open on the floor, clothes and things spilling out of it. The bed was made and a miniature sugar quill lay on the pillow. “They leave one every bloody day,” Bilius said. He waved at a small stack of them on a little table, “Take the lot of them if you want, I won’t eat them.”

James and Sirius pushed him down on the bed.

“You alright, Bil?” James asked.

“Just knockers,” Bilius answered. He was staring out the window and James followed his gaze and he could see the castle looming over the trees in the distance - the Bell Towers standing strong against the horizon. James thought that it was possibly the worst room in the entire inn they possibly could’ve given him, with a view like that.

Sirius had gotten a cup of water and held it out for Bilius to drink and James worked on untying Bilius’s boots and tossed them down on the floor. They pulled a blanket over the top of him.

“Thanks, mates,” Bilius said once he’d settled in. He closed his eyes a moment and sighed, a heavy sort of sound that seemed to be emptying him. He opened them again and looked at both of them, and the laughter that had been on his face before had died away and all that was left was the sadness in his eyes. “Let me tell you lot something,” he said, “And you listen to me. It’s very important.”

They both paid Bilius their very closest attention.

“Appreciate your mates. Every second you got with them is precious… One day, even if it’s a very long way off and you’re very old and grey, and I pray that you are… but one day just the same… they ain’t going to be there no more… and you’d give bloody anything to floo’em up… but there’s no floo that goes to where they’re at anymore.” Bilius took a deep, quavery breath and leaned back into the pillows again.

James looked at Sirius with a sort of helpless expression. Sirius sighed and petted Bilius’s hand, “I’m sorry, mate,” he said quietly.




They were walking back to Honeydukes from the Inn, having left when Bilius begun snoring. Sirius had his fists deep in his leather jacket pockets again and the collar up around his neck and James walked a couple paces behind, watching Sirius, watching the way he walked as though he needed to memorize it. Bilius’s words swam about in his head.

Sirius paused as they arrived back out at the main street by the Three Broomsticks and down the street a bit they could see the flashing storefront of Zonkos and the queue outside of Honeydukes. He looked over at James. “You alright?” he asked.

James nodded.

Sirius still didn’t walk on yet, though, he sort of milled there for a second and then sighed and walked over to a pile of wood outside a cauldron shop and he sat down. James followed and sat beside him, nudging him with his knee, “Are you alright?” he returned the question.

He looked at James and said, “Well these are really uncertain times, you know, with Voldemort and everything that’s been going on and your family with the Fidelus Charm and mine with… everything…” He rubbed his neck.

“We’re all going to be alright,” James said thickly, hopefully.

Sirius nodded, “Of course we are. But… James, if something was to happen…” he looked at his friend, at his messy hair and crooked glasses and he thought about all the smiles and dreams and everything James had swimming about in that goofy-looking head of his, and he said, “I don’t want you to be muckin’ about, drinking firewhiskey in a bar at ten o’clock in the morning, and having to be carried off by a bunch of third years to some pathetic little room at a pathetic little inn. I don’t want you moping around about me. If I’m dead, I’m dead, and I want you to go off and do quidditch things and get to be a big star and whatever’s in your future.”

“Same here,” James said, nodding, “I want you to do all the things you wanna do. I don’t want you in some pathetic inn either. I want you to go to Costa Rica like you dreamed and drink coconut drinks with ickle umbrellas in them and watch all the girls in their hula skirts.” He laughed and nudged Sirius until he laughed, too, and Sirius put his arm around James’s shoulders and looked up at the sky. “We’ll be alright, though, Sirius,” James said reassuringly. “Voldemort can’t kill us, we’re the bloody Marauders!”

“Here, here!” Sirius answered and he jumped up off the wood. “Let’s go find Moony and Peter.”

James followed.

They found them in Honeydukes, a basket on Remus’s lap chock full of things Peter was picking out from the shelves. “Stocking up for a long night, ‘ey Peter?” Sirius teased him as they walked up.

Peter twitched and dropped a couple boxes of sugar mice into the basket. “I don’t plan to eat it all at once!” he said seriously.

James snickered. “Well, Bilius Weasley gave us some sugar quills.”

“Oh sugar quills, yes - I knew I was missing something!” Peter said, hurrying to get some from the shelf.

Remus looked up at the other two as he wheeled himself forward and backward a bit, as though he were shifting his weight had he been standing up. “How’s Bilius?” he asked.

“Sad, but he’ll be okay,” Sirius answered. “He’s definitely grieving very hard.”

Remus nodded. “He’s been through a lot.”

“Definitely has,” agreed Sirius. He looked at the basket, “Did you get anything in here?” he asked, sifting through it to see all the stuff that Peter had chosen.

Remus shrugged, “I have a couple chocolate frogs. I spent most of my money at the Three Broomsticks. Which, speaking of, here James --” he held out a couple sickles, “My share of breakfast.”

James felt the sickles drop in his palm and he looked at them a second then shook his head, “No way, breakfast was on me, you lot. You can get a couple more frogs with this if you like.” He smiled at Remus and put the sickles back into his hand. “I was planning on buyin’ at the Three Broomsticks anyway,” he lied. Of the four of them, though, James knew he had the most money besides maybe Peter, whose basket was probably going to cost a fair amount of galleons to buy.

When they’d finished up in Honeydukes, each carrying a bag of chocolate and sweets - though none as large as Peter’s - they went to Zonko’s joke shop, where Sirius and James selected a wide variety of trouble-making goods that they tucked into their pockets and among the sweets in their Honeydukes bags to keep Filch from seeing it as they walked in the doors of Hogwarts. They stopped by the quidditch shop, too, where James used his money to buy the prescription goggles that he’d seen in Diagon Alley back at the start of term and a couple new pairs of gloves, since the traction on his old ones was getting a bit questionable toward the end of the season last term.

It was afternoon by the time they’d finished up and they were walking back to the castle, Peter pushing Remus’s chair and puffing along as Sirius flung his arms ‘round James’s shoulder and sang, “I’m Henry the Eighth I am, Henry the Eighth I am, I am…” It had been stuck in his head all afternoon since Bilius had sung it. His voice echoed off the trees around them.

They were nearly back to the castle when they came up on Lily and her lot again, carrying their bags from Honeydukes and Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop. They’d had their hair done at a little shop owned by a witch that specialized in styling spells and they were twittering about their hair and how pretty they each looked, complimenting one another heartily. Sirius’s voice carried ahead of the boys and the five girls turned ‘round to look and came to a stop, waiting as they approached. Annalee bounced her new curls in her palm and stood a bit differently of posture. “Hey boys,” she called out.

“Hey there Annalee,” Sirius said, interrupting his song. He gave a whistle and looked them over, “Nice hair, ladies!”

Marlene blushed about as red as a phoenix. “Thanks,” she said dreamily.

James smirked at the effect Sirius had on them, with what seemed like positively no effort at all. He ran his hand through his hair absently. “How was the rest of your day?” he asked them.

“Nice,” Lily answered, shrugging, “How was yours?”

“We ran into Bilius Weasley at the Three Broomsticks,” James replied.

“Oh we saw him, too,” Annalee said, “But he was positively legless.”

“Yeah, he’d had a lot to drink,” agreed James, “But it was fun seeing him just the same…”

Sirius smiled at Marlene, “Did you have a good day?” he asked her, making her shiver and nod. He laughed, eyes sparkling. “Well, you look very lovely.”

The whole lot of them walked on up to the castle together, talking. Sirius kept his arm around Marlene’s shoulders and Lily shook her head, trailing behind. Peter and James switched out who was pushing Remus as they approached a hill, for Peter’s arms were tuckered out, and Lily walked along beside Remus’s wheelchair.

“Sirius better be careful what he’s doing, getting Marlene’s hopes up,” she commented while he was laughing boisterously, telling Marlene some crazy story about some adventure he’d supposedly had over the summer that James knew hadn’t happened, seeing as Sirius was Snuffles for most of it. “Does he like her?” Lily asked.

James shrugged, “I reckon Sirius likes everything in a skirt these days.”

Remus had nodded off in the chair, and he gave a little sigh, shifting weight as they neared the castle. Sirius and the other girls, and Peter, too, were already on their way up the stairs, Annalee stood about halfway up, waiting, watching Lily and James and Remus come closer.

“She really likes you,” Lily told James.

“Who? Annalee?” James asked, looking up at the pretty girl watching them, waiting for them to catch up.

“Very much,” Lily said.

James flushed. “Well, that’s nice,” he said.

“You don’t like her?” Lily asked, looking up at him.

“Nawh,” James replied.

“Do you like anyone?” Lily asked.

“Only you, Love,” James answered.

Lily swatted him, “Stop that,” she commanded, and she hastened to get away.

Remus had woken up again at some point and he looked up at James, “Tough luck, mate, but at least Annalee is cute.”

“Yeah, I s’pose,” muttered James, and he waved his wand, magicking Remus’s wheelchair up the steps carefully, guiding it by the handles so he wouldn’t tip forward before they got up to the top, where Filch was glaring at each student that went through, checking for any lime green bags from Zonko’s.