Hogwarts' Original Pranksters' Fantastic First Year

Hogwarts Original Pranksters' Fantastic First Year

Chapter 6: A Hogwarts Hallowe'en

Without knowing why, James didn't quite believe Remus's story. It was not a matter of trust -- Remus was his friend, and he trusted him -- but rather like something that kept running through his head and wouldn't go away. A small voice at the back of his mind, saying "he's lying" without James being able to prove neither that Remus was lying, nor the contrary.

He knew by experience that Remus was a good liar -- maybe one of the best -- and that was what bothered him so much: where did truth end in his friend, and lie begin? Remus didn't invent stories when he told excuses to a teacher -- he used the truth and embroidered it. What if he "embroidered" as well when he told his friends why he went back home and came back to Hogwarts looking like hell? Besides, his mum hadn't looked so ill when James saw her on that day, back at Diagon Alley. On the contrary, she did seem quite well. How came that three weeks later she felt so ill she asked for her son? And for such a short time? Why was she suddenly so ill three weeks later that she asked for her son, and then only for such a short time?

James didn't speak to anybody about his doubts. He had an idea as to the answers he'd get. Sirius would shrug and call him paranoid; Lily would smile it away, say that he worried for nothing and that Remus had no reason to lie to him; and Peter would simply stare round-eyed. As for facing Remus and asking him head-on, James didn't even envisage it. He had nothing to lean on, no proof at all, no hint, absolutely nothing; he didn't quite feel like going to him and asking, "What's up with you?" just like that.

"Wait and see," he just told himself. "Just wait and see."

The only person he was tempted to talk to was Vega -- she was fifteen after all, and she might take his concern a bit more seriously than Lily, Sirius, or Peter. But Vega seemed very busy these days, and not in the mood to listening to an eleven-year-old boy's rants -- that was the idea James had. Sirius said it was because of the O.W.Ls, the Ordinary Wizarding Levels that every student had to pass at the end of the fifth year at Hogwarts; on the other hand, he added with a frown that his sister behaved oddly since she'd been made a Prefect. She would jump on each occasion to isolate herself, and sometimes Sirius himself -- he worked hard on not looking too involved in his sister's business and life at school, but he couldn't help watching from a distance -- hadn't the faintest idea where his sister was. She would reappear a few minutes later though, smiling but looking as serious as ever. Sirius teased her a lot about it, remarking notably that this wasn't quite suitable a behaviour for a Prefect. She would shrug and walk away with a Potions essay as an excuse. And James would laugh under his breath as Sirius shrugged in the very same way, and then immediately ask James about an idea for bewitching a book. All was forgotten by the next minute. Apparently.

Very early on the Hallowe'en morning, James woke up feeling a cold draft -- he had forgotten to shut the curtains of his four-poster. He half sat up as he reached the red velvet, but something stopped him: through the blurred mist caused both by the sleep still half sticking his eyes shut and the lack of glasses on his nose, he made out the outline of a figure standing against the clear form of the open window. Puzzled, he took his glasses from his bed-table, sat up and looked more closely. When he realised who was the figure perched on the windowsill, he jumped out of his bed.

Sirius was sitting on the windowsill, with one leg on the ledge and the other hanging out. James saw only his motionless back and shoulders; he was wearing his warm black winter cloak that he hadn't taken out until then.

James came closer as discreetly as he could, feeling vaguely worried; the floor was cold under his silent bare feet. He must have made a floorboard creak though, because Sirius turned his eyes to him. To James's odd relief, he was smiling -- but a strange smile, mixed with a piece of sadness.

"It's been snowing, James," he said quietly, although with his voice a bit hoarse.

James came to the window as Sirius sat slightly aside to let him enjoy the view. The window was rather narrow, and Sirius just had room enough to sit, but James could take in the scenery at a glance all the same: the piece of the lake he could see was frozen at its edges, and all the grounds were covered with bright snow, almost blue in the dim dawn light. Further, the Whomping Willow seemed asleep with its branches heavy with snow, looking almost benign for once. Near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, James could make out Hagrid with Curly on his heels dig his way in the thick mass of new snow. He supposed that the gamekeeper must be checking over the snares, or defrosting the school's brooms for today's flying lessons. Further again, the trees of the Forbidden Forest looked harmless, having lost their usual menacing dark green colour, replaced by both a light and dark sort of blue. Finally, on the horizon, the sun was just starting to rise on the mountains; he could see the cold light between gold and yellow slipping slowly forward along the dark slopes.

"It's -- it's beautiful," James said eventually, his eyes shining. "You can see it all from here. I would've never thought that the landscape was so nice, it's so misty all the time."

There was a little pause, then Sirius said in barely more than a whisper, "You know, my mum loved snow. Each year at the first fall we would get up before dawn and wait for the first flake."

James listened in silence, though he was surprised at first. Sirius had never talked about his mother before.

"She caught it first all the time, she had a gift for spotting the first snowflake, the place and the second it'd fall. Then my dad would phone the school to know whether it was snowed in -- generally, it was -- and we would spend the whole day playing in the snow, Vega and me. Ma would bewitch the sleds so they wouldn't overturn, and I would grouse because I loved when mine and Vega's overturned."

Apart from Sirius's almost-whisper, the small room was completely silent. James said nothing, didn't make a single move to interrupt him, even if he didn't have the faintest idea what "phone" meant. He felt that a moment like this one was rare, and he wouldn't have broken the spell for all the world. He could only see Sirius's profile; his friend's face was peaceful, almost dreamy, but his slight smile was not quite steady.

"But the best thing in that first-snow days was the night, I guess. We'd go back home completely fagged out by dint of playing, and Da would give us a big bowl of hot milk with honey, then we'd sit down next to the fire -- that fireplace was so small I still wonder how the heck it could make us that warm -- and our parents would tell us stories 'til we drifted off. Vega always fell asleep before me -- I did my best not to for a while. I wanted to stay awake, because I knew that Ma would stay beside my bed till I slept for good. Besides, I could hear the end of the story."

Sirius lowered his head a little; was he crying? He wasn't: James saw him raise his eyes at once and peer at him intently, "Dunno why I'm telling you all that. But keep it to yourself, please. You're the only one I could think of talking to about -- about before."

James just nodded, rather touched by that proof of his trust. Then Sirius grinned -- his usual grin, warm and sarcastic, "Well, we're perishing here. Want my place to have a better look?"

"Thanks," James said, smiling in turn, "it's nice, but I prefer to watch from inside. It's a great deal warmer."

"Whatever."

Sirius leaped lightly from the ledge; he raised his head and wrinkled his nose, "What's that smell? I can smell it since I'm awake."

"Roasting pumpkin. The house-elves must start baking it early, I think."

It was easy to guess from Sirius's face that he didn't have quite a great liking toward roasted pumpkin. James began to laugh, "C'mon, don't look at me like this, I swear it's delicious! Have you never tasted it?"

"Oh yes, I have, to my great displeasure," Sirius grumbled. "Vega's got a passion for roasted pumpkin. The thing is, each time she tries to bake it she fails. So she ends up with some weird, burnt down, blackish little pieces, and the kitchen remains unusable for half a day because of the smell. Boy, that's something."

James had to bite on his lip in order not to laugh again -- he didn't want to wake the two others up -- but his dark green eyes were laughing for him. Sirius gave a chuckle, then he said, sounding serious again, "Sorry for boring you with those stories of mine. But I needed it -- I won't do it again, promise."

James opened his mouth to protest, to say that he didn't have to be sorry at all and that himself wasn't bored at all either, but he was cut off by a grunt from Peter's bed, followed by a rustle, probably meaning he'd just turned over. The curtains drew aside and Peter popped out a dishevelled head and sleepy eyes.

"Hey, Peter!" Sirius said lightly. "You know what? It's been snowing."

The sleepy eyes snapped wide open, " 'That true?"

"Of course that's true," James said. "We must've had about twenty inches fall last night!"

His eyes shining with childlike joy, Peter jumped up and almost ran to the window, tripping on his half-slipped socks.

"Wow! It's spiffing," he said enthusiastically. "Remus was right. He's said it was going to snow I don't know when."

"What have I said?" a muffled voice asked. It was closely followed by a, "Oh, doesn't it smell like baking pumpkin -- happy Hallowe'en!"

"Yeah, that's true, happy Hallowe'en everyone! We must celebrate this. What would you say about a lil' prank on Snape?"

"Sirius!"

"You're right, 's not very original. So -- something with the Whomping Willow? Tim was boastful the other day about engraving his initials, but I don't believe him. What about going and engrave "Gryffindor rules"? So we could see if Tim's telling the truth."

"I'd agree a bit more here," James said. 'It'd be original. But not before breakfast -- I don't know about you, but I am starving."

"I think it's no use for a vote on a show of hands," Remus said with a smile, seeing Peter's hopeful expression as the word "breakfast" was mentioned ...

Roasted pumpkin, to Sirius's great surprise, was delicious, and he had no bones about a few well-chosen comments to his sister. Vega looked vexed, but didn't reply and concentrated on her own piece of pumpkin. She gave a small jump when Mundungus Fletcher, sitting a few chairs from her, said as he pointed toward the Ravenclaw table, "Oy, I know that owl! It's one of the school's, I've used it last week to send a card to a cousin of mine -- these owls are supposed to send messages, not to bring them!"

"Who's the lucky guy?" asked interestedly Olivia O'Flaherty, a fifth-year girl sitting in front of Vega.

Arnold Weasley gave a chuckle and said, "That's Jack Prewett, seventh-year Head Boy. He's one of the few I know who's both serious and good-natured. Plus he plays Seeker in the Ravenclaw Quidditch team."

"That boy's a dream." Olivia beamed. "Is he seeing someone in the moment?"

"You have to ask him, not me.'

Arnold's eyes were twinkling. Olivia sighed to Vega, "With a luck like mine, I'm sure he's got someone. I wonder who sent him that letter though. He looks glad about it, anyway."

Vega shrugged with a smile, "You can always try your luck, you know."

Then she turned to her friend Dan to tell him something.

"Funny, isn't it?" Sirius breathed to James. "Usually she would talk endlessly and now she's content with two words. Weird, my sis is. Say, about the Willow -- still on?"

"Yeah, why not. How're you planning to do this anyway?" Remus said as he put down his cup of tea and took the marmalade.

"I've got a penknife, from when I was at school."

"What's the use to it?" James asked, puzzled.

Sirius said with a sheepish sort of smile, 'None, apart from engraving my initials at the bottom of the school's surrounding wall. To 'leave a mark'," he added, pretending to ignore Lisa Dodger rolling her eyes and Vega sighing between two pieces of roasted pumpkin.

"Afraid of 'being forgotten'?" Remus said, smiling. James glanced rapidly at Sirius.

Sirius shrugged, "Me? Nah, that was just for a lark."

Then he added with a sardonic smile, "Besides, I do think they won't forget me for a while, in this school."

Some began to laugh. Sirius, at that moment, looked particularly devilish with the usual wolfish grin on his face.

Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson was boring as it ordinarily was; Professor Ricochet spoke to them in his nasal, hushed voice about the cursed gems used by Dark Wizard Maximilian Fersen to vanquish the armies of the King of Finland. James listened with only one ear, but Lily seemed really fascinated by the story, despite the way Ricochet had of telling it. It was stifling in the classroom, and everybody ran outside as soon as the bell rang, baffling Ricochet who absently bid everyone a happy Hallowe'en.

"According to you," James asked as he shut his bag he'd just slipped hurriedly under his arm, "who's the most dangerous for our sanity, Binns or Ricochet?"

"My vote is on Binns," said Sirius, who apparently hadn't swallowed the time Remus had half-fallen asleep, half-fainted in Binns' class, even if he hadn't let out a word more about it. "At least we aren't quite so sleepy in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Plus we learn useful stuff -- well, we're supposed to."

"I agree with Sirius," Remus said as James threw his bag over his shoulder. 'Defence will reveal itself useful some day. However, the way Ricochet teaches it --"

"Pinch me," Lily teased him. "Remus Lupin, criticising a teacher? That's one for the Record Book. Are you okay?"

"I am quite fine, thanks," Remus said with a smile, ignoring Sirius's sneeze, strangely sounding like a disguised 'Liar!'

"Bless you, Sirius," Remus slipped with a lopsided look to his friend, who now had an air of sheer innocence on his face. "I just think it's a pity that we don't get a chance to practise," he went on. "I'd love to learn how to get rid of a Jarvey or a Grindylow, or to learn handy counter-curses, that sort of things."

He meant what he was saying; the four others nodded approvingly.

"You have a point there," Peter chirped. "I almost was bitten by a Doxy once, when I was little. If it hadn't been for my mum ..."

He shuddered. Lily cast him a sympathetic glance.

"Mind you," she said earnestly, "this lesson was interesting -- plus I love all that's linked to jewels, especially when they're cursed. You know, in the Muggle world, there are many diamonds that are said to be cursed. The Eagle's Eye is a well-known wizard's jewel, and for instance the Sancy or the Mirror of Portugal are --"

"Please, no!" Sirius cried as he covered his ears with his hands. "Don't you think we've had enough of this with Ricochet? You won't finish us up with another lesson about Evil-Eyed jewels, will you?"

Lily's vexed pout made James laugh.

As they stepped into the Great Hall for lunch, a few students let out admiring exclamations: the Hall was already decorated for Hallowe'en -- orange and black, with real pumpkins Hagrid had grown with loving. He had carved them expertly, cutting out eyes and fangs. James made a mental note to congratulate Hagrid about this handsome piece of work. The Hogwarts ghosts floating a few meters from the floor and the live bats fluttering about across the Hall completed the tableau. Sirius quite enjoyed the way they had to settle themselves into the girls' hair. One of the bats seemed to particularly appreciate Fleur Delaney's long brown hair; she began shrieking, and everybody laughed at her way of violently jerking her head about, her beautiful sleek hair all tangled up and her fine and delicate-featured face turning very red.

After a minute's laugh, Charlie McKinnon eventually felt pity for her. He raised his wand, and the bat suddenly found itself stuck up to the ceiling. They could guess it had an astounded 'expression' on its little black face. Fleur didn't eat much during that lunch; she remained silent, giving a small sniff from time to time. She would remember her first Hallowe'en at Hogwarts.

Sirius disappeared just before the next lesson; but as he was back for the start-of-class bell, no one had the time to ask him the reason for his absence. Because of Hallowe'en, the students had so much trouble concentrating on their afternoon Charms lesson that Professor Flitwick finally organised a flying hats race. Peter spent a long time trying to make his hat take off, and when he finally made it, Lily had won hands down. James' and Sirius's had arrived at the same time, but it didn't stop them from quibbling for fifteen good minutes. Flitwick finally declared that they had tied for second place. Remus's hat had led a respectable race, and had ended fourth just before Lisa's hat, against whom he had fought a mercilessly duel. Lily couldn't help but notice how much the enthusiasm of the race had changed Remus: her friend's cheeks were now flushed crimson, his breath was quick and choked and his eyes shone like two moons. Lisa, more or less in the same state, acknowledged her defeat with good grace, and her eyes widened when Remus bowed courteously before her as he congratulated her for being such a formidable adversary. Although a bit uneasy, the brown-haired girl giggled.

At seven o'clock, everybody headed toward the Great Hall, more impressive than ever in the pale lights of candles floating in midair like the first night, completed by the reddish light of candles placed into Hagrid's pumpkins, so big that a man could have sat crouched inside. The teachers were all sitting at the High Table, dressed in their finest robes. McGonagall was particularly notable that night, dressed all in red, her House's colour; as for Walsh, she looked as starchy as ever in a green robe vaguely reminiscent of the colour of the Forbidden Forest.

"We're gonna have a slap-up meal," Sirius said as he rubbed his hands with a delighted look on his face.

Indeed, dishes just as varied as those of the start-of-term banquet had just appeared on the same golden plates. James helped himself at once to lamb stew and chips, while Sirius and Remus were fighting over the potatoes. Lily settled the question by helping herself first. She hadn't quite forgotten Sirius's comment on her "lesson about Evil-Eyed jewels" which she loved to talk about. Besides, she was hungry.

The resulting meal was animated, but friendly. Fleur had recovered from her fright a while ago, and now she was chatting about boys' natural idiocy with the Scott twins, Marietta and Marissa. The two black twin girls, both with the same round little nose and almond-shaped black eyes, were quite identical -- apart from their hairstyles: one had her hair braided into two little coils on each side of her head, and the other's head was crowned with many dark little braids ended with as many various-coloured pearls. But as they both would constantly change their hairstyles, nobody could tell them apart with certainty.

However, during the whole meal, Lily couldn't help but think that something wasn't right. She understood the reason of this funny feeling only when her eyes fell on a little punnet filled with mint Humbugs: Mundungus Fletcher wasn't sitting in his usual chair, never very far from Vega. Intrigued, Lily looked around for him, but she couldn't find him; she tapped Remus's shoulder -- he was sitting next to her.

"Where's Mundungus?"

Remus broke off his conversation with Fergus Finnigan and glanced around him, frowning.

"That's true, he's not here ... how come --? All of us are supposed to be here for the Hallowe'en feast ..."

He turned to Sirius and said, "Mundungus' not here."

"Fletcher?"

Sirius looked perplexed.

"I say, that's weird ... Jamsie? Fletch's missing!"

James gave a smile, "Calm down, he's probably cooking up a little prank of his own invention -- Hallowe'en remains Hallowe'en, after all."

"Yeah, and Fletcher remains Fletcher," Sirius ended. "You're probably right."

"I am."

Around them, older Gryffindors seemed to find this absence quite normal. When Sirius asked his sister about it, Vega put down her pumpkin juice glass and answered, "Mundungus comes up with a Hallowe'en prank each year. We never know what we'll end up with, it's always a surprise. Dan, Angie, what was it last year?"

Dan Hustler and Angie McAlmin were two friends of Vega's: Dan, short and squat, with red hair bordering on brown, was the threesome's daft one, while Angie, as tall as Vega, had lighter hair and was rather quiet. He answered in his usual calm voice, "He put a bewitched pumpkin under every single bed of every second-year -- even the girls'."

"I remember," Olivia O'Flaherty said. "The pumpkins all jumped up from under the beds at the twelfth strike of midnight and leapt upon every second-year. We could hear the screams even from our dormitory."

Molly Ginger shuddered at the memory, but the others were rather exited about that genial idea.

"Wonder what he's up to this year?"

"Me too!"

Lily, feeling reassured, ceased wondering and poured down more peppery sauce on her steak. When the main courses were all eaten up, the plates and dishes cleaned up by themselves and the desserts appeared instead. Sirius, James and Remus talked animatedly -- probably about Mundungus -- while Peter took off the paper enveloping a Humbug.

"I went down to the Whomping Willow just now," said Tim Thomas, "and you know what? Someone's written 'Gryffindor -- fun galore' on it."

"Whoever did this is crazy," Lisa Dodger said sternly. "And if he's still alive he's got a lot of luck."

"Yeah, but now Davey -- you know Davey Gudgeon, that skinny kid from Hufflepuff, we've got Herbology classes with them. He's not quite happy about it. He'd swore he'd write his initials on the trunk first, to follow up their success in Quidditch."

"Success they deserve, by the way," admitted a fifth-year named Aymeric Peppery, a bit reluctantly though. "And yet it's not for lack of trying to beat them."

"Look Aymeric, I don't want to upset anyone, but it's true that you're the only decent player in the team. They've got seven."

"Yeah, but," cut in Fergus Finnigan who loved Quidditch, "almost all our players are seventh-years now, aren't they?"

"Yes, Aymeric's the younger player. But he's still the best one."

Aymeric gave a smile, "Cut it out, please."

"By the way," said another Gryffindor, "did you hear that? That little Malfoy git has been promoted Seeker on the Slytherin team."

"Money can pull so many strings within sport, eh?"

Leaving the conversation now gliding about the more-than-doubtful honesty of the Slytherin team, Remus and James turned to Sirius, who was chewing indifferently on his piece of cake.

"Sirius, the Whomping Willow thing -- it was you, wasn't it?" Remus breathed. Sirius, his mouth full, only nodded with a broad smile. James shook his head as he whispered delightfully, "Blimey, I'll have to work seriously on my side to catch up with you."

"Oh, never mind, Jamchie," Sirius chewed. "It'ch no rache, ya know. Bechides I prefer from far work widj you than be a loner. It'ch so much funnier."

And he gave a broad grin to James and Remus.

"Peter!" Lily cried suddenly. "Good Lord, what happened?"

"Please, just call me Sirius," said Sirius modestly. Lily seemed to be hesitating between rolling her eyes or bursting out laughing. Peter peeked around anxiously. His face was as green as the mint Humbug he'd just eaten.

"What? What's up?"

"You look, well -- a bit green -- but it should be over in three minutes," James said, grinning. "Sorry, actually it wasn't intended for you."

"That's funny, you know," Sirius said to Remus. "If I remember well, you had more or less this colour on your face, back at the Sorting ..."

"Shut up, Sirius," Remus said lightly as he took a piece of chocolate-flavoured cake.

* * *

But Mundungus remained stubbornly invisible. Several Gryffindors looked for him in vain until bedtime, which arrived quickly as always after a feast. With their stomachs full and their head cloudy, the students had only one thing on their minds: their warm and soft red four-poster. James, Sirius, Remus and Peter vaguely waved good-bye to Lily before climbing up to their dormitory. Sirius, looking less tired than the others, tried to throw his pillow at Remus; but Remus kept it for himself instead of throwing it back at its owner. The pillow war was nipped in the bud, and later the four boys had fallen sound asleep, without hearing the expected yells and screams that would have celebrated Hallowe'en in the best Mundungus Fletcher style.

On the morning after at the Gryffindor table, lots of students looked baffled -- Hallowe'en had passed without any prank, and above all Mundungus Fletcher hadn't shown himself neither the night before nor that morning. Arnold Weasley, who slept in the same dormitory as Fletcher, was vaguely worried -- he wasn't even at the hospital wing. Olivia O'Flaherty tried to reassure Arnold by telling him that it wasn't the first time Mundungus was nowhere to be seen. It was true indeed, so Arnold stopped worrying; he turned to another Gryffindor third-year to ask him something about some Potions essay.

"Mind you, while we're speaking about Mundungus," James said. "There's something I'd like to understand."

"Uh? What?" asked Remus as he glanced up from Hogwarts, A History which Lily kindly had lent to him.

"How -- just how -- does he manage to escape Adams all the time? I mean, I know he's alone, that's the advantage of a better discretion, but all the same --"

"That's true," Peter cut in. "I saw him once in a corridor, he was jinxing the door of the Trophy Room. Then I turned round at some point and I saw Adams sneaking in. And when I turned to Mundungus to warn him, he'd just ... vanished. That's the word."

"Looks like it's become a habit of his," Sirius said in a sarcastic voice.

"But that's true!" exclaimed Peter, maybe thinking Sirius didn't believe him. "Maybe he's learnt how to Disapparate or something --"

"No, now you're wrong, Peter," Remus said, this time closing his book. "First you have to be seventeen to take your Apparating test, everybody knows that --"

"I didn't," Lily said on a vexed tone.

"Well, almost everybody. Secondly -- and I'm sure you know that too, Lily -- it's impossible Apparating or Disapparating into the Hogwarts grounds. I've just read it in that book."

"Why is that?" Zoey Zig asked, interested.

"Because the castle's protected," Vega said on a very professorial tone, "by some Old Magic, very ancient and efficient. That's why Hogwarts is one of the safest places in Great-Britain -- you've got nothing to fear from You-Know-Who here."

"Why won't you say Voldemort, Vega?" said Sirius, almost curtly.

Vega shrugged, "Yeah, well ... I don't think of it, that's all."

Sirius rolled his eyes in a very Vega-ish, funny sort of face, "Honestly, Vega, do you think it's serious not saying this twisted old loony's name? He must enjoy all the din that's made around him. The Dark Lord ... You-Know-Who ... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, my foot! No kidding, I'm not surprised with his wanting to change his name with such a weird one ..."

The slightly uneasy feeling that came over the table when Sirius had said Voldemort's name was lifted up partly; Peter looked incredulously at Sirius, "How come you call him by his name?"

"Chain of events," Sirius said simply, in a tone of finality showing he wouldn't add a word on this subject. Remus looked thoughtful.

Potions class went by rather uneventfully; Peter, since the bathroom incident, paid an earnest attention to his cauldron and ingredients, so nothing had exploded so far. Snape kept it down, no doubt chewing over a merciless vengeance -- but what could he do, being one against five? For if he set about one of them, the four others would leap on him without any delay. And if Wilkes, Avery, Rosier, and Nott tagged along with him in every victory, they were much less enthusiastic when defeat was certain.

"It's no use getting head-on to them," he finally concluded as he gathered up the bits of bat's wings he hadn't used, "it's only making them stick together more. It'd be actually so much easier if they were apart --"

A mean smile stirred his pale lips. He had a mere beginning of an idea -- a devious one, Machiavellian even, but all's allowed when dealing with such adversaries, isn't it?

The only one who saw this smile was Peter; he shuddered and was about to tell James about it when the bell rang the end of class. The students -- the Gryffindors, at least -- ran outside with a sigh of relief, so quickly that Charlie McKinnon bumped into Peter and both dropped their bags. In just the short amount of time it took to gather all his books, Peter had forgotten about Snape and his evil grin.

Mundungus didn't show himself in class that morning according to Arnold; he didn't go to lunch either. This time, even Vega frowned worriedly, and Sirius appeared to be thinking hard for the whole meal.

He was still thinking as he walked to the Herbology class along with the others; Professor Sprout didn't lead them to the usual greenhouse number 1 -- this time they headed toward the Whomping Willow, near the Forbidden Forest. Wrapped up warmly in their winter cloaks, the students followed their teacher in single file, stumbling in the knee-level snow. The last ones were luckier, as they followed in the furrows the firsts students had dug in.

"Here, get together," said Professor Sprout once everybody came few feet away from the Willow. "Don't come too much close -- there, it's perfect. Now today, as I told you so last week, we're going to observe the Whomping Willow. I do hope all of you have read the little paragraph about that kind of tree in the annex of your A Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. Now then, who can tell me --"

"Professor!" Fleur Delaney exclaimed. "Look at that!"

Looking hard at the Willow, they could read engraved into the trunk in big, hasty, awkward letters 'Gryffindor -- fun galore'. The whole class burst out laughing as Sprout turned just as green as Peter's mint humbug.

"Now, I shall take ten points from Gryffindor for this!" she cried when she found the use of her voice again. "It's a scandal -- monstrous -- doing such an awful thing to a young, harmless tree ..."

"She's overdoing it quite a bit," Sirius whispered in James's ear. "This Willow's at least three years of age, and I can tell you by the way it wanted to punch me that this thing's anything but harmless. It almost knocked my head off."

"Shut up," James hissed, "I don't want to lose more points --"

"Say -- you don't admit your defeat, Jamsie, do you?"

James ignored him and watched with concern as Sprout walked cautiously around the tree. Let all of this end there, he thought, mentally cursing Sirius and that blasted cheek of his.

The Gryffindors had never seen their teacher so angry. She looked really furious, muttering to herself as she went round the Willow to inspect it, however not coming too close.

Then, as she turned to her class, they saw her freeze on the spot, gaping; the only move about her was a little cloud of white haze coming from her slightly open mouth. They watched her, not understanding -- only Lily followed her gaze, and she froze as well. Sprout started running in the direction of the small group. The students stepped aside; she passed them and ran on toward the edge of the Forest and a figure sitting in the snow, whom they'd just made out. Lily jumped on her feet and followed her; glad to eventually get an occasion to move -- they were starting to feel really cold -- the students ran after them.

The figure was Mundungus Fletcher.

He was sitting in the snow, with his lips blue, his brows frozen and his clothes drenched; a downright lost expression was on his usually cheerful face. His brown eyes were slowly glancing around in both a tired and a mechanical sort of way; he had lost his pointed hat and snow soaked his dark hair.

"Fletcher!" Sprout exclaimed, astounded. "Finnigan," she added as she turned to Fergus near by, "fetch the matron. What're you doing here, Fletcher? What happened?"

"It's been snowing -- it's been snowing already?"

That was Mundungus' only reply; Sprout felt his forehead, looked into his eyes and looked both puzzled and almost frightened, "Seems that somebody's cast him a Confundus Charm, or a Memory Charm ... What in the world ..."

She forced Mundungus to get up and walk a few steps while she energetically rubbed on his back; first-years looked at them frightfully. Sirius was frowning, James looked concerned, as did Remus and Lily.

Madam Pomfrey arrived after a few minutes; she inspected Fletcher with her skilled eyes, then conjured up a stretcher onto which Sprout laid the boy. Then the matron muttered a few words as she pointed her wand to him; the frost melted from his brows and a little colour was back on his pale cheeks.

When Madam Pomfrey returned to the castle walking behind the stretcher, nobody let out a word for a few seconds, then Professor Sprout said with a nod, "Back to greenhouse number 1, everybody."

"What the heck happened?" James whispered hoarsely as he backed off a little from the group of students.

Sirius shook his head, looking rather pale, "I know just as much as you, that is nothing." He seemed shocked.

"He hasn't spent the whole night outside, has he?" Lily asked in a small voice.

"I don't think so," Remus answered, pulling his rather thin cloak around his shoulders, "he'd be frozen to death by now if he had."

"So where has he been? And what did happen to him, for God's sake?"

All that the three boys could give as an answer to Lily's anxious question was a hopeless shrug. They had no clue.

* * *

The whole school talked only about that story for the rest of the day, and even the next. Nobody knew anything -- once Mundungus was up to being questioned, Professor McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore himself asked him; nothing came out. Mundungus Fletcher didn't remember anything about what happened, and even one of Walsh's Truth Potions gave no result. Someone had indeed cast a Memory Charm on him; and as this someone hadn't done that by half, nobody knew either why or where he had disappeared, when he had reappeared or what he was doing outside, so close to the Forbidden Forest.

Mundungus stayed in the hospital wing for a week, lying in his bed moping. He felt awfully ashamed. It was true that while he loved getting everybody's attention, he hated being made fun of; he felt as if, as soon as he'd put one foot outside, the whole school would point him, saying "Oy, Fletch! Not forgotten anything today yet?" And above all, he had a terrible feeling that he'd been had, completely and entirely, which never happened to him ordinarily. He remained in a foul mood the whole time -- even when James, Sirius, Remus and Lily poked their head shyly in the hospital wing. He didn't brighten up when Lily said "Get well", giving him a sorry but kind smile, nor when James told him not to worry, that his legend was intact, nor when Remus asked him -- to please him -- some help about a prank on Snape, nor when Sirius thoughtfully remarked that he'd never been so famous before all this... "Fletch" sulked on.

However, he couldn't help but raising his eyebrows incredulously when the door of the hospital wing opened, to let in someone with long, black slightly wavy hair hanging down on their shoulders and with blue eyes that scanned the room until they found what they were looking for, "Oy?"

"Coming to comfort me as well?" grumbled Mundungus, secretly delighted. "Thanks, I've had my share of condolences."

Vega entered the room, shut the door and stood in front of him with her arms crossed, "Cut it out! You're a big enough boy to get through this by yourself; besides I haven't got all day. I'd just come to see if you were all right."

"Of course," Mundungus said in his most sarcastic voice. "I've lost twenty-four hours and I don't know where they went, I've woken up in the snow not knowing either the place I was in, or the day or the time of day it was, and now I'm ashamed to death in the hospital wing... you're kidding me, aren't you?"

There was a little pause, then Vega said with her most ironic grin, "You look perfectly fine to me. See you!"

"Wait!" Mundungus cried as she turned on her heels and walked firmly away. "I didn't mean to snap at you, I didn't want to --"

"Did you?" Vega said quizzically, one hand on the handle. "Too bad, you sounded quite perfect. Look," she added on a more serious tone, "I've passed by only to see how you were doing, not in order to get snapped at, nor chatted up, thank you very much. Besides let me tell you that it's rather Slytherin-like to be so afraid about your reputation."

"So why did you come and see me?"

"I've told you: I've come to see how you were getting on. I got an answer to that question: you've had your insane sense of humour back with your health. Now bye!"

"No! Wait, Veg --"

She was already gone. Mundungus lay back in his bed groaning, "Stupid -- silly -- moron -- I'm impossible."

Vega didn't come back to see him -- she thought her mission accomplished, that was all. As for Mundungus, he came back to class on the next Monday. Contrary to whatever he was afraid of, the students left him alone for the most part and nobody made fun of him. There were some sniggers from the Slytherins; but after he'd sneaked into their common room to ... settle a few things, the Slytherins of every year left him cautiously alone.

Things calm down quickly at Hogwarts when there's nothing to fan the fire of gossips; but our "fiendish foursome" knew better than to forget their friend's misadventure. They came up with loads of theories, one always more incredible than the others, then fell into a discouraged silence. Still nothing.

They were so taken by this "case" that they'd almost drop their pranks. James tried and bewitched Severus Snape's Potions book and grew four feet to it -- Snape ran after his book for quite a while -- but his heart wasn't in it. Anyway, this little innocent incident gave Snape another reason -- if he needed one -- to put into practice the plan he'd been thinking of since Mundungus' disappearance. He only must watch them carefully now; then...

In the last fortnight of November, Vega let it slip to James, Remus and Peter that her brother's birthday was soon and it would be funny to play a little prank on him to celebrate his eleventh birthday. The three boys agreed enthusiastically -- it would be a good break after spending half of the month playing detectives. Besides, they were afraid they might lose their touch.

So, when Sirius woke up on the morning of his eleventh birthday, he didn't find himself in his warm, soft bed, in his dormitory, but half sitting in a dark corridor, with only a picture on the wall as a company; it showed a fat grey pony asleep on his hooves and a little knight who was yelling, "Now, enough sleep, you scurvy braggart! Stand up and face me like a brave man! You violated my lands, now you shalt pay this affront with your life!"

"Oh, shut up," muttered Sirius half asleep. He stood up with some difficulty -- Merlin's beard, how cold and hard the floor was to sleep on! -- and glanced around him.

He was standing in a long corridor, darkened by the lack of sunlight through the windows, where you could see a vague grey line meaning the mere beginning of dawn; the picture showing the little knight covered a big part of the wall. The odd character was gesticulating wildly, trying to brandish a sword much too long for him, and Sirius wondered, as he rubbed his sore neck, when he would finally fall off his horse.

"Well!" the knight squealed. "Too much a coward to face a challenge? You rascal! You dog!"

Sirius ignored the flood of insults that followed; he was starting to understand. A sort of flash caught his attention near the end of the corridor, he tiptoed toward it and --

"AAAAH!"

"AAAAH!"

James' yell turned rapidly into a fit of laughter, echoed by Remus' and Peter's. Sirius shook his head. He'd been had for good.

"Happy birthday, Sirius!" Remus said cheerfully. "You didn't expect that, did you?"

"Not quite. Vega told you, I suppose?"

"Yep,' said James, still laughing. 'You should've seen your head when you woke up --"

"And when you screamed!"

"And when that knight challenged you!"

"By the way," said Sirius, looking lopsidedly toward the knight a bit baffled by the turn of events, "who's that mental?"

"Sir Cadogan," James explained. "He sort of stands sentinel in the North Tower but sometimes he goes lurking around. Remember that first night, when you sent him packing and Vega lectured you?"

"Makes me think I've still a score to settle with him," Sirius said, glaring at the picture.

"Can't it wait? Because we're hungry. Besides," said Remus with his lopsided grin, "I don't want to upset you or anything, but you're quite heavy, even if you look all skin and bones. Plus there are seven stairs to climb up to here."

"OK, I'm coming!"

They went back to their dormitory -- Sirius was still wearing his pyjamas, after all -- fighting back the idea of getting back to bed. James was still a bit sleepy, and he stumbled over something he didn't see in the shadow. Then they headed toward their common room. Vega said "Happy birthday!" to her brother, without paying any attention to his glaring at her. However, Sirius's good mood rushed back to him when she handed him a whole assortment of sweets she'd bought during her last visit to Hogsmeade, the wizarding village the students could go to from their third year. The sweet-shop, Honeydukes, was really the sweet-lovers paradise -- they could find everything there.

But the real surprise was Lucy's -- the Blacks' owl -- landing on the breakfast table, missing Sirius's bacon plate by half an inch as she dropped a big envelope. He hadn't used the owl till now -- apart from the "letter bombs" he'd promised to his father, but he also sent some more serious letters, in which he told about Hogwarts, the teachers (he had made a vivid picture of Binns and his soporific classes) and above all about the friends he had made at Hogwarts. Sirius put down his fork and untied gently the envelope from Lucy's foot; she flew away with a little reproaching You're-crazy-to-have-me-carry-such-heavy-things sort of hoot. James curiously watched him open the envelope, glance inside and suppress a cry of joy with great difficulty.

What James saw inside, however, had nothing to thrill about; it was a set of old paper sheets with odd lines and what looked like music notes. James had already seen scores before, but on those he'd seen the notes didn't stood still like they did on these ones! A real score -- a wizarding score, at least -- kept re-creating itself, the notes crossed, intermingled melted together although, and created music by themselves ...

"What?' asked Sirius as he noticed his friend's surprised expression. "Never seen a guitar score before?"

"Guitar? Oh, no ..." Vega rolled her eyes and said with a fake weary sigh. 'Don't tell me DA sent you the sheets you had at home --"

"Well, he did!" Sirius said, ignoring his sister's sarcastic tone as he looked at the scores one by one. "All my favourites -- Like a Rolling Stone, and The Sound of Silence, and Cecilia, Bridge Over Troubled Water -- plus all the Beatles' I love -- thanks, DA! Even Something -- you'll love this one, Lily. It's lovely."

Tim Thomas suppressed a chuckle.

"What?"

"Girls listen to the Beatles, not boys!"

"Since when?' retorted Sirius at once, hit at his sensitive point. "They've been inspiring every music for ten years -- they're absolutely great!"

Not wanting a quarrel-discussion like the ones Sirius knew so well how to start, Mundungus whispered in his ear, "When is your sister's birthday?"

"What? Ah, May 18^th. We should team up to fix a little prank on her, so she won't betray me next year like she did today ... what d'you think?"

"Do count me in!" Fletch winked.

* * *

The day went on in rather a normal way, but Sirius couldn't escape the huge pillows fight Remus started as soon as he'd stepped into the dormitory. If the pillow he threw at Sirius as a declaration of war was terrible, the answer was even fiercer, and Remus swayed back from the shock. Of course James pitched into the fight, and soon it was total warfare. It was every man for himself. Peter tried to hide behind his curtains, but James leaped on him with a wild yell and he was forced into taking his own pillow for mere defence.

The four friends were half-blinded by the feathers flying about everywhere, half-suffocated under the pillows and quite choking with laughter -- they loved it. This time, however, Sirius was distracted by a particularly violent pillow-knock from James; he stumbled, trying to maintain his balance. Remus hadn't seen that through the feathers flying, and he threw his pillow at Sirius's outline. Sirius stumbled and collapsed backwards.

Bong!

Sirius's head resounded like a gong against the wood of the post and he stood there lying, unmoving. Things came to a sort of standstill: James grasping his pillow, Peter slowly emerging from behind his bed, Remus who had suddenly turned paler than the feathers escaping from the guilty pillow, which were still hanging through the dormitory. These feathers were suspended in the air as if by the sudden silence that had fallen over the small room.

James suddenly dropped his pillow, breaking the stillness of the room; his heart pounding, he rushed toward Sirius lying completely motionless at the foot of the bed, crouched down, and whispered softly, "S -- Sirius?"

Sirius sat up very suddenly, his eyes wild and wide open, gasping, and looking furious. James let out a huge sigh of relief as Peter, though still frightened, came completely from behind the bed. As for Remus, he closed his eyes and sat down, severely shaken.

"You're mental," said Sirius as he got up slowly, cautiously rubbing the back of his head. "Out cold, I was."

Then he added with a broad smile, "Interesting experience. Want to try it, anyone?"

Remus shook his head, smiling. James looked at the post where Sirius had fallen, "Oy! What's that?"

"What?"

James came closer and crouched at the foot of the bed. Puzzled, the three others walked closer too.

At about two inches from the floor, a little wooden sheet stood out from the post, like a tiny door. James opened it very carefully with his finger.

It was a hole, dug into the post of the bed. Spurred by curiosity, James put his hand in and took out something -- a palm-sized little bag, made of some weird skin.

"Wow," Sirius said in a low but excited voice. "I didn't know there were hidden treasures in the feet of my bed. Cool!"

"What's in that bag, James?" Remus whispered. James brought the little bag into the light, between Sirius's bed and his own; when the four of them were sitting in a good place to see, he opened the bag.