The Return of the Marauders

When the homework finally came, it landed on the Marauders with a vengeance. Sirius and James in particular found their Transfiguration work to be especially difficult. Despite the benefit of having two powerful wizard parents, the prospect of a ten-page essay on the magical rearrangement of matter was especially difficult.

The worst part was when they complained about it to Ramona, she only sneered at them. "I'm a Second Year, remember? I've got far more difficult work; so don't look at me when you want sympathy. I'm not the one who insisted on so many adventures a month." The boys thought that such a frosty response was uncalled for, and didn't speak to her for a week.

Mildred was suffering from other things besides overworkl. A new teacher, Deirdre Dippett, who seemed intent on burying her students under translation work, headed her Ancient Runes class up. Mildred was becoming increasingly short-tempered, and snapped at Sirius one day when he asked her if she wanted to share a study carrel with him. He retreated, muttering to himself.

Furming, Mildred dumped her books onto a library table and then ducked into the hallway to find an empty classroom. Once inside one, she glanced about, and then pulled a packet from a pocket inside her robes and her wand from her sleeve. She put a narrow white cylinder in her mouth and raised her wand, "Flamma Minutia," and a small flame appeared at the end of her wand. She inhaled, and sucked in the smoke. "Oh, that's good! First in a week," she muttered.

As she exhaled, Peeves the Poltergeist appeared, and his eyes widened. "Smoking student! Naughty, naughty!" He plucked the burning cigarette from the Ravenclaw's mouth and swept up the pack in his other hand.

"Give those back, Peeves!"

"Mmmmm! Unfiltered, flavorful, rich, and minty!" Peeves put four cigarettes in his mouth and waggled his face at Mildred as he floated backwards out of the room. "Come and take them back, if you dare!" He flicked the ash off the burning butt, and then dangled it daintily in his hand like an aristocratic lounge lizard.

The taste of nicotine was hot in Mildred's mouth, and she gave chase immediately, barreling around the corner, and ran straight into Argus Filch!

"Well, well, what have we here?" The caretaker balled up Mildred's robe in his fist and lifted her off the ground. "What's that I smell on you, you little wretch?"

"Nothing," she croaked, hoping he wouldn't recognize her from the Marauder's assault on him a few weeks before.

"Well, it's not bath oil, for sure. Let's see the Headmistress, eh?" Filch heard a cackle and turned around to see Peeves lounging on a chandelier, smoking Mildred's precious cigarettes. "Well, there's your supply, right?" Filch winked at Peeves, who waved gaily and cackled.

Melinda Merrythought nodded when she heard Filch's story. "Thank you, Argus. You did the right thing by bringing her here. Please leave us."

Filch grunted, and headed out, clearly disappointed at not personally seeing a punishment meted out.

Mildred chewed her lower lip, and waited for the axe to fall. She looked at the dark-skinned woman who sat in the padded leather chair behind her desk, staring at her. Mildred knew Ravenclaw would lose points for this, but worst of all, those had been her last smokes! She hated the thought of going without, and the cravings she knew she'd endure would be worse than anything since there were no stores nearby who would supply her. No friendly merchants or people she could bribe or bully with her abilities.

Professor Merrythought kept staring, saying nothing, and finally, Mildred couldn't take it anymore. "Well, go ahead! Dock Ravenclaw house some points. Give me a lecture on what an 'unladylike' habit I've got! What are you waiting for?"

"I'm waiting for you to tell me why you did it."

Mildred rolled her eyes. "I've got a habit. I had to feed it. Isn't that obvious?"

"And why do you have the habit?"

Mildred blinked, and realized she couldn't answer right away. After a moment, she said, "I don't know."

"I think you do," Professor Merrythought said, still staring at Mildred with a gaze that the young Ravenclaw student felt went through clothing, flesh, bones, and straight into her soul. "Bad habits like that usually start from either peer pressure or desperation. I know a lot about you, Miss Worple, so I think it was desperation."

"You do? Probably about my grandfather."

"Actually, I was thinking about your mother. I interviewed her about a month before you got your Hogwarts letter."

"You - you spoke...to my mother?" Mildred gasped. She hadn't spoken to anyone at Hogwarts about her mother. Not that anyone would want to know about her. Shame burned on Mildred's cheeks, and she stared at the floor.

Professor Merrythought nodded. "Your reaction's understandable, Miss Worple. A lot of students come from Muggle families; some, like you are on the 'poor' students fund; and a few even come from Dark parents like yours. You have the dubious honor of having the worst of all three worlds! Yes, I've seen the hole that your mother calls home: a cold-water flat, a dole check once a month, and parents that won't talk to her. Small wonder that she indulges in the vice you've taken up: unfiltered tobacco smoke, and a brief nicotine high which helps to dull the pain of reality. I used to indulge in it, too."

Mildred stared and stared, her eyes wide with shock.

"It's true," Professor Merrythought remarked. "My reasons were different. The sad fact is that I just enjoyed having something in my mouth. I was like a baby with a pacifier. After a while, though, I noticed I was doing it more often because I was alone; and I was alone because no one could stand to be near me."

"A vicious circle," Mildred said.

"Yes," Professor Merrythought said. "But in your case, I'd wager you started because you thought it would make your mother notice you. If she noticed you, then you wouldn't be alone."

Mildred stared, and then her lower lip quivered, and she slowly nodded. "It's hard to be alone; especially when you're in the same room with someone."

"You're making a good start, however. I see you a lot with the Potter twins, and with Ramona Lupin. You and she have a bit in common, you know?"

"Yeah. I was with her during her last full moon."

"Good. I'm glad she's got someone close." Professor Merrythought continued to look at the young Ravenclaw, though there was a ghost of a smile on her face. "Your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will soon be lecturing on vampires, but I will tell you right now that virtually everything he knows comes out of the textbook. You could earn Ravenclaw some extra points by volunteering your knowledge."

Mildred blinked again. She hadn't thought of that. "Okay, but won't that expose me to the school? I really don't want everyone to know about my...history."

"You don't have to tell the whole truth about you, Miss Worple. Just mention your grandfather's name, and the fact that he shares custody with you; that you frequently dwell in vampire circles, and have been accorded the rare honor of being the acknowledged heir of Viscount Sanguini. Your grandfather may be a poor parent to you, but he does have a reputation, after all. And a bit of notoriety can sometimes lead to friendship with other people."

"Okay," she said again, feeling a bit more confident.

"This will help you break that filthy habit. It helped me." Professor Merrythought tossed over a small blue packet of Muggle chewing gum. "Droobles would flood your classroom with bubbles, so you'll have to rough it without magic. And this," she handed over a quick note, "will keep the teachers from docking your house any points when you're doing it in class."

Mildred was smiling. "Thank you, Professor."

"You're quite welcome, Miss Worple. Now, two things: First, just because your home life is bad is no excuse not to do well in school. You have enormous potential! Your origins have given you a great affinity for sorcery. I wrote your acceptance letter myself, so I know!"

"All right, Professor. I'll do my best, I promise. Everything I have at home is more to escape from!"

"A fine attitude. Second, because I've had your habit, I know how difficult it is. So, I will only dock five points from Ravenclaw, one-third of what I should." She smiled at Mildred, "And, of course, I was once a Ravenclaw myself!"

*

Back in the library, Mildred furiously chewed on her gum and attacked her essay project with a vengeance. The runic inscriptions of the Farvann Clan were hard to distinguish from the Picts, and Professor Dippett wanted to know why. Mildred leafed through her textbook and systematically found the points of issue one by one and scribbled them down, along with a detailed explanation of the different moon dances that the tribe. She ripped through the descriptions and was chewing her gum harder and harder and was just about to begin a new page in her assignment when she saw Madam Pince staring at her with a hard expression.

"Who said you could bring that filthy habit in here?"

"She did," said Mildred, holding up the slip of paper from the headmistress. Madam Pince's face dissolved into disappointment, and she wordlessly handed back the paper and walked away. Mildred felt a surge of triumph and she went back to her homework with vigor.

*

"I think we're going to have to cut back to one adventure a month," Ramona said to the other Marauders, as she hefted her homework bag, which was bulging at the seams. They were sitting on one side of a staircase in the main hall, as the other students surged in toward the Great Hall for supper.

"Well," remarked James, "that's what your Dad and our grandfather did; went out Marauding during his monthly transformations."

"I don't know if I want to do that," Ramona started to say, but Mildred interrupted her, bending low and talking quickly, though she kept her voice low.

"Oh c'mon, Ramona! I'm in as much danger as you! Nobody else at Hogwarts knows my secret, so you're not the only one who's risking something. Besides, if you're anything like me, you've got an extra edge to protect you against danger."

"What 'extra edge'?" Sirius asked, his eyes burning with curiosity.

"Another time," Ramona said evasively, glaring at Mildred, who looked back impishly.

"Well, I've got the site for our next adventure all picked out," James announced. "I think I've found a secret passage in the dungeons that no one else knows about, not even the staff."

"What?" Mildred gasped.

"I'll tell you all about it during the next Hogsmeade trip."

"But we're not cleared to go to Hogsmeade until Third Year!" Ramona hissed.

"So what?" Sirius said, grinning. "We know how to get there on our own, and the bartender at the Three Broomsticks is an old friend of our Dad's. He'd never tell a soul."

Ramona pulled out a pocket calendar and looked at it. "Ten days from now is the next Hogsmeade trip. Let's say we'll meet at the Three Broomsticks at 5:00?"

Mildred nodded. "I'll have to skip my History of Magical Disasters class, but I'm already four chapters ahead as it is. It's a date! Now let's get some supper, I'm hungry!"

*

"This is fun!" Ramona said, as the Marauders slid into a corner booth where Mildred was already waiting. James and Sirius dropped a round of butterbeers in front of them. They raised their glasses, "To the Marauders," Ramona said, and they all drank thirstily.

"You flew here, I suppose?" Sirius asked Mildred.

"Of course," she said with a superior attitude. "How'd you get past Filch?"

"A secret passage," said Sirius, with a conspiratorial wink to his twin brother.

"Speaking of that," Ramona said, bending her head lower, "what's this you've been saying about a previously undiscovered one in the dungeons?"

"Well," said James, "you may have heard that I had to do a little detention with Professor Slughorn?"

Mildred snorted and giggled. "'Little'? You flooded the dungeons with something like Turkish taffy, from what I heard! I don't think anyone's ever had to scrub out the entire dungeon on their hands and knees with a scrub brush and a metal scouring pad!" She drank more butterbeer, and then broke down in a fit of laughter and sprayed her friends with butterbeer from her mouth. They all cried out and wiped themselves down, causing a few heads to turn in their direction. A Cyclops at the bar blinked at them once and then grunted and went back to playing dice with his Minotaur friend.

"Well, anyway," said James, cleaning himself with a flick of his wand, "I was scrubbing underneath one of the work tables near the store cupboard, and I saw a metal ring set into the floor. It was exactly the kind that you see on a trapdoor! I was about to pull on it when Professor Slughorn came over and told me that if I didn't finish my work quickly he'd have me sort out his flobberworms, too! But, I've got a remedial potions class tomorrow, to do the work right without flooding the place, so I'm going to double-check on it."

"It's not on the map?" Ramona asked.

"No, I checked. The first Marauders never spotted it. We've got an entirely new adventure waiting for us."

"Great," said Sirius, rubbing his hands. "I've been boning up on Defense Against the Dark Arts, as well as offensive and defensive spell work. I copied down a whole bunch from Dad's notebooks when he wasn't looking, so we can all practice in the Room of Requirement in the days leading up to Full Moon."

Mildred nodded. "Good idea. It's best to be prepared. Say," she said, as something occurred to her, "why is it that the three of you are so good at magic? I mean, Ramona knew how to seal up that tunnel, and you two seem to know a lot for first year students. In fact, word has it you're the brightest in our year. But why is that?"

James, Sirius, and Ramona all grinned simultaneously. "Well," said James slowly, "our Dad is the Minister of Magic, and our Mum was a teacher in South Africa, just like Ramona's dad is a teacher. With that kind of influence, there's a lot of early training. Even when we weren't supposed to be doing any magic, Sirius and I were plunking away with wands; we were doing magic almost before we could walk! He never said so, but Dad probably got the Improper Use of Magic Office to look the other way. Dad's still owed a lot of favors from the war."

"My Mum's an Auror, too," said Ramona, "as well as being a Metamorphagus. Like James said, my Dad's a teacher, so they've both had a lot to pass on. They started young, with me. Being an only child has a few benefits."

Mildred was frowning at the twins. "Wait a minute, how could you two 'plunk away' with wands when you're not supposed to have them until you're eleven..." she trailed off, and flushed. "Forget I said that! Stupid question!"

Sirius and James looked properly innocent, and sat staring at the ceiling, twiddling their thumbs, not speaking.

"Probably stealing before you could walk," Mildred muttered.

"Tsk, tsk," Sirius scolded. "The word is 'borrow', because the owners always got them back."

"Or 'forage'," interposed James, "because we found the stuff lying around."

"Look out!" Ramona hissed, "Hagrid, Flitwick, and Professor Slughorn just walked in!"

James flipped the invisibility cloak over them, and the foursome vanished.

"Ah!" said Flitwick, "There's an empty table. In the corner!"

"Damn! They're coming this way, and the cloak's not big enough for all of us to move at once."

"Now it is," Mildred muttered, and blurred into her other form.

With quick movements the Marauders scuttled away just in time for the teachers to take their places. James collected their glasses just in time, and dropped them under an adjacent table. The students beat a hasty retreat toward the exit, and didn't relax until they were in a side street.

"That was close!" Sirius said, breathing hard. Autumn leaves were falling all around them, colorful harbingers of winter.

"Wish we could have stayed," Mildred said after, shaking her head and letting her hair fly a bit. "I've always wondered what teachers talk about when they're out of the classroom."

"Come to my house sometime," Ramona said, smirking a bit. "Teachers can either be really interesting, or really shocking! They know some of the dirtiest jokes in the world."

"That's true," James remarked. "I've overheard some of the things that Mum says to her girlfriends during their Canasta nights, when she thinks we can't hear her."

"Okay," said James, in his commanding voice, "I'll double-check on that trapdoor and get back to you guys about it. If it's real, let's figure out a way to get into the dungeons on the next full moon, and figure out where that door leads to."

"Agreed," said Ramona, though she looked a bit sickly about leaving the sanctuary of the Shrieking Shack during her monthly transformation.

"Now," said Mildred, "show me where this other secret passage is, okay?"

*

"Hey, James," said Sirius, as they were sitting in the Common Room, working on levitating feathers and other objects for their Charms class, "do you think we could become Animagi?"

James blinked, and looked at his brother. "I guess so, but why would we? We don't have to restrain Ramona, like our grandfather had to with Remus."

Sirius shrugged, and then cast a levitation charm on his brother's quill, making it fly out of his reach. "I know that, but there's a certain tradition to live up to, don't you think? I mean, we are Marauders now, and our namesakes did it, after all. Anybody who follows us should carry on the tradition."

"Who's going to follow us in the Marauder tradition?" James asked, enchanting his brother's parchment so that it too floated away.

"You're kidding, right?" Sirius almost absently enchanted his brother's inkpot with Wingardium Leviosa, causing it to sail upwards like a balloon. "Bro', we've got seven siblings so far, and Mum's carrying an eighth! You think none of them are going to want to follow in our footsteps?"

"Well," remarked James, waving his wand at his brother's water glass, and it too floated up, "that's true. But what if none of them are up to the task of becoming animagi?"

"Then we're Number One!" Sirius remarked, enchanting his twin's box of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. The beans floated out, cluttering up the air like tiny asteroids.

"Have you thought about what animal you'd want to be?" James asked, enchanting the water pitcher to lift off like an ungainly bird.

Sirius nodded, as he levitated one of James' books. It was a bit heavier than the others, but it too floated away. "A black dog, just like my namesake was."

"Hmmm," said James, as he too enchanted his brother's charms textbook. "That would make me the stag." He frowned and shook his head. "I think that would upset Dad, actually."

"I wasn't planning on telling him." Sirius enchanted one of the Common Room's throw pillows. It sailed upward and bumped against the ceiling.

"Don't underestimate our father, Sirius. He is Harry Potter, after all! He'd figure it out." James frowned again, and trained his wand on one of the wooden chairs. It wobbled, bumped the ground, but managed to hover a few inches off the ground.

"So what would you be?" Sirius caused an end table to float three feet off the ground.

"I was thinking about a phoenix," said James, considering, and then rejecting another table on the opposite side of the room, and opting for another pillow from the sofa. "Carry heavy weights, cry out healing tears, and the ability to fly. Sounds perfect to me."

"What's going on here?" demanded Rinaldo Coote, one of the Gryffindor Prefects, as he stepped into Common Room, now so cluttered with various floating objects that it resembled an M.C. Escher painting. He brandished his wand. "Finite Incantatum!" All the flying objects crashed to the ground, including James' inkpot, which happened to be above Coote's head. The blank ink covered the Prefect so completely that he spent four hours in the private baths cleaning up.

The Potter twins each delivered six inches of lines (I will not show off), and were obliged to scrub the ink off the floor, without the help of house-elves.