Bohemian Rhapsody

moment twenty-one: out of the mouths of babes (September 15, 1976).

They gathered in the small hut, each not entirely sure when they had come. Remus sat back in the old chair, Sirius sitting by him, one hand absently ruffling the young man's hair, resting his seat on the armrest. Peter stood nervous, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. And in front of them, his hands placed awkwardly in his lap, clearly struggling for words, was James Potter.

He adjusted his glasses. "Look, I should thank you all for coming, I guess. I know we haven't gotten along that well recently, and I know that's at least partly my fault. I haven't been there for any of you of late, and I've been neglecting all my responsibilities." James winced inwardly. Lily had been less kind when evaluating his shortcomings. After that breakfast five days ago he had largely lurked around the Tower, apart from venturing out for class, unable to face his friends. Finally, guilt had driven him to come up with a solution. This was it.

No-one spoke. James cleared his throat, increasingly aware that this was a hostile audience. "I'm going to make that I spend more time with all of you, because you are my best friends, and that does mean something to me."

Remus spoke first, his tone gentle, but firm nonetheless. "Look, James, I'm very glad you've met Lucius, and been so happy, but yes, you have fucked up. Quite a lot. I was thinking it through the other day, and normally, the wolf in me just wouldn't be sated with only one animal to tame it. If anything, the wolf would probably get riled even more with only one Animagi in the shack - as a potential rival for territory and all."

Peter's face was shrouded in shadow, flames flickering across his skin. "Then why didn't you go psychotic?"

Remus blushed, and his hand rubbed Sirius' leg. "Because werewolves can recognise the scent of their mates, Peter...if it had been you-"

"If it had been me, I probably wouldn't have been there on my own."

Remus didn't respond in words, but his thoughts were brooding. And even though Sirius is my mate, the wolf wanted to tear him apart, just so no one else could ever touch what was mine.

James could see the hackles on Sirius' neck rising, and decided to break up any potential fight by directing the blame back upon himself. "Look, it's obvious we've drifted apart, and I want to stop that. I want things back when we kept no secrets, and hung out and played jokes, and dammit, I want things back the way they were."

Sirius grinned sardonically, and James was reminded of the canine form that had chosen him. "What do you suggest we do then? Form a club?"

"Yes!" exclaimed James, exultant. "Look. That way we're all on the same level - all dedicated to the same purpose."

"And what purpose is that?" asked Remus, his curiosity rising.

James looked at Sirius, and tried to hide a smirk. "Sirius and I used to have quite a reputation for doing pranks. I don't see why we can't all join in the fun."

Peter raised his eyebrows, not convinced. "Oh, and I suppose we all take the rap if we get caught, too."

"We're in a war. This is the one of last places left that's safe. And every morning we hear of a new death, or disappearance in the Daily Prophet. Every day there's another attack, or the Dark Mark is sighted. Every day there's nothing but fear and loss. We have to remind the school that there's still something left to live for, that we can still laugh! That's a noble cause, isn't it?"

Sirius chuckled, and James knew he had his support. "There's the Gryffindor in you, Jamie. Finding a just reason for making mischief."

"Not making mischief," James informed him with a wry smile, "managing it. Using our powers for good, instead of evil." He reached out, and gently tapped Remus on the knee. "What do you say, then Remy?"

Remus bit his knuckle, considering. "I'll give it a go."

There was only one holdout. "What about you Peter?"

Peter let out a deep breath, and moved away from the wall. "I don't want you to keep things from me again. I don't want to feel like the fourth wheel."

James nodded. "That seems perfectly reasonable: besides, we'll all be equal partners in this."

So you say, thought Peter, but I wonder how it'll turn out.

"We're all agreed then?" There seemed to be consensus on that. "Fine then. We need nicknames. Every club needs nicknames."

"What about the Lions?", suggested Remus, not the most imaginative in the group.

Sirius shook his head. "The Laugh Makers?"

Remus was indignant. "That's even worse than mine!", he exclaimed, which lead Sirius to fondly ruffle his hair, and the two were for a moment lost in each other's eyes, before James discreetly coughed and brought them back to earth.

Peter spoke from the sidelines. "What about the Marauders?"

James beamed. "That sounds perfect, Peter! What do you guys think?"

The other two nodded their assent to the name, and James continued, a gently babble of words. "I thought we could also have individual nicknames, you know, like a code, in case we ever needed to identify each other secretly or some such, as well as claiming responsibility for our pranks. I already chose mine: based it on my Animagi form, y'know."

The three looked at him expectantly, and James got a clue. "Oh!" he burst out, sheepish, "Prongs. I thought Prongs suited."

Sirius took a few moments, before coming up with his own. "Padfoot," he said, leaning back against Remus. "It's got to be Padfoot."

"Wormtail," Peter murmured almost imperceptibly.

Remus looked uncomfortable. "I don't have an Animagi form though," he said, before inspiration hit. "Moony," he announced with a wicked grin. "Call me Moony."

James rubbed his hands together and ignored the impulse to caper like a three year old. "This is going to be so cool," he announced, taking a roll of parchment out of his robes. "And this is going to be even cooler."

"What's that, Ja...err, Prongs?", asked Remus, ever the academic.

"I found this spell amongst the Restricted Section. It imposes the awareness of a particular space onto an object, creating a living map of that space. Think of it - a map of Hogwarts, one which only we - and the people we want - could access. With our Animagi forms - especially Peter, who can get anywhere - we could know this castle better than Filch!"

"How does it work?" pushed Remus, moving out of his chair to sit besides James, his intellectual curiosity now firmly focussed on the parchment.

"Well, we all crowd round it, speak the incantation, choose a key phrase, and bam! It's a map. The Marauder's Map, even," he announced, smug and somewhat carried away with his own cleverness.

Sirius looked at him. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

James blinked; he clearly wasn't prepared for the idea they'd actually do it now. "Alright, then, everyone get your wands out and hold them over the parchment." He unwrapped the parchment, and laid it flat in his lap. Sirius and Peter moved closer, getting their wands out, as did Remus. James was the last to unsheathe his wand, taking a moment to remember the incantation. "Wait! What shall we use for the key phrase?"

Their collective shoulders slumped as they searched around for a possibility, then Sirius' eyes lit up. "What about 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good?'", he suggested with a wicked smile that was directed mostly at his partner.

The others nodded, and bent back over the parchment, wands at the ready. "Everyone, repeat after me," James said, mentally preparing himself. "And think of Hogwarts."

Each tried to fill their minds with images from the school and grounds: the very feel of the place, as James intoned the correct spell, an old thing in Welsh with more vowels than consonants. The parchment glowed white once, and each of them felt their minds being drawn along by it, as they saw the castle in their imaginations. The familiar figures turned to hollow lines, as if the blueprints were being revealed to them in three-dimensions, and at the same time, they felt the impulse to chant in unison "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Black lines matching the one in their minds appeared on the faded surface of the parchment disappearing as soon as they appeared. It folded itself up, black ink neatly inscribing words on the outer layer before that too faded into nothing, and the four were left with a folded sheet of parchment lying on James' lap.

"So," he said, picking it up. "What's say we test this puppy?"

Sirius gave him a pointed look.

"Sorry, Padfoot," James apologised. "No more dog references, I promise."