Stag Night

Where was everyone? 

Peter poked into corners and looked behind tapestries, but found little of interest in this new room.  The décor was solid and tasteful, nothing as gaudy as the other rooms he’d seen at Tigerseye.  Flames crackled and popped in a large fireplace, but there wasn’t much in the way of furnishings, just a central circular table and some benches.  There were more of those funny paintings on the walls, like the ones they’d seen on their arrival; at least some of the scenes depicted now made sense to Peter.  Sirius’s and Remus’s coats now hung on the wall; their boots, all four pairs, were now lined up neatly on the floor.  Obviously, he was the first to be done.  Was that bad?  Should it have taken longer? 

He tried to find his watch to check the time, but remembered that he’d taken his watch off.  The Dark Mark on his arm burned; the pain had been increasing steadily.  He’d refused to take off his shirt for fear that the mark on his arm would be visible, but the watch… He found it in his jacket pocket.  Nearly four o’clock and his report was overdue. 

Where were his friends, and where were their wands? With no place else to try, he searched the others’ coats.  He was panicking, and he knew it.  Would the information that he’d gleaned be enough to satisfy the Dark Lord?  Each task he completed only led to an escalation of demands; the next would be that Peter join Dumbledore’s group like all his friends had.  Peter had resisted, not willing to admit to himself what he really was, but after this…. The Master had made it clear that Peter had to do more. 

“Oy!  Get your hands off me bloody jacket!”

Peter turned guiltily, half-choking and half-gasping.  Sirius stood grinning at him, a towel casually draped around his neck.  His short black hair glistened with water, as if Padfoot had been swimming.

“Oh!  It’s you!  Where’s everyone else?  And why is your hair wet?  Are you supposed to get your hair wet?”  Peter stammered, wondering if he’d missed out on something.

Sirius laughed and rubbed his hair vigorously with the towel.  “How’re you feeling, Peter?”

“Er, fine, I guess,” Peter said, not really knowing what the right answer was.  “How about you?”

“Great!” Sirius replied, slicing the air with the towel like a scimitar.  He snapped it at Peter, who jumped back and bumped into the table. “I haven’t felt this good in days!”

“You were rather… intoxicated back there and I wondered if you…” Peter’s hands gripped the edges of the table behind him.  Sirius punched him on the arm and answered the question that Peter was afraid to ask.

“Yeah, I was right pissed, wasn’t I?  I wish I remembered more of it.”  Sirius laughed carelessly, but then went on, concern evident in his tone,  “After the limericks, things get a bit hazy.  Do you think that James was…was enjoying himself?  He didn’t sit around like some bloody old lady, did he?”

“Well, he seemed to be getting along with that woman, so far as I could see.”  Peter paused.  His mouth had gone dry and his tongue seemed to have swelled, making it difficult to speak.  “You really don’t remember…?”

“Not much,” said Sirius shaking his head.  “Why?  Did I do something stupid?  Stupider than usual?”

“No more than usual.”  Peter was suddenly attacked by a fit of giggles; the burning, itching pain of the Dark Mark on his arm stopped him just as suddenly.  “Right.  I think I’ll just get my boots on, okay?  I’m sure the others will be here soon.”

Sirius followed Peter.  As they sat on a bench together and put on their boots, he asked, “So how was she, that little redhead of yours?”

“Fine, I guess,” Peter stammered in response and turned as red as only someone with fair skin can do. 

“Fine?  C’mon, Peter,” Sirius said with a scowl, pretending to be irritated for a moment before punching Peter on the arm and laughing heartily.  “You can do better than that.  Tell Uncle Padfoot all about it.”

Peter was saved from the Inquisition when the door that led back to the grand hall opened.  He and Sirius both looked up at the sound of James’s voice.

“Thanks for…everything,” Sirius heard James say.  “Yes, I’ll send you pictures.” 

Elsa, in a flowery pink dressing gown, came into view through the doorway.  She gave James an enthusiastic hug and murmured something in German, just out of Sirius’s hearing.   When James finally entered the room, he looked flushed.

“What are you blokes staring at?” said James irritably.

“Pictures?  You’re going to send her pictures?” Sirius jumped up and hooted with laughter.  “And what’s that you’ve got?”

James looked down at the little parcels he carried, slightly embarrassed.  “Just a few things that Elsa gave me:  cookies that her grandmother makes and…oh, it’s not important.”

“And what?  You’re holding out on us, Prongs.”  Sirius danced around him, feinting punches at his friend.

“Just some, er, salve that she gave me for… Lily.” James responded sheepishly, then said more defiantly, “She was very insistent and I didn’t want to disappoint her.”  He raised his fists in mock defense.  

“Hey!  You’re not all cramped up anymore,” Sirius chortled.  “How’d that happen?  She must have been good, eh?”

“Had a massage and all that.”  James mumbled, the color of his face a little redder.  He looked around the room, and then fixed on his boots.  “Better finish getting…better put on my boots, that is.”

“’…and all that’?  Care to elaborate about ‘and all that’?”  Sirius trailed him, relishing his friend’s discomfort.

“No, I do not,” replied James firmly as he yanked his boots up from the floor. He sat on a bench and began to pull on his boots, saying, “How about you then?  Had enough to drink last night? I’ll bet you were really ‘up’ for it, weren’t you?”

“I fell right to sleep, can you believe that?  They had to pour a bucket of water on my head to wake me up.”  Sirius exploded with laughter.  He was feeling too good to do anything but tell the truth. “The nap was just what I needed.”

Sirius danced a jig to show off his newly found energy.  James rose, laughing too, and slapped his friend on the back. He could never stay angry with Sirius for long.  “You look it, mate.  You ready for this wedding?  I tell you, I could use a bit of sleep.  And how about you, Peter?” James turned to Peter, who’d been watching the two of them, wide-eyed, in silence.

“I’m all right.”  Peter winced and scratched his left forearm.  “I’d really like to go…” He stood and then drifted around the room as he rambled, clutching his left arm protectively. “I’ve looked around and haven’t been able to find our wands, you know, but if they’d give them back, we could get out of here and…get some sleep before the wedding.” 

All three fell silent, each having said all--or perhaps more--than he wanted to.  James felt relieved when a house-elf arrived with coffee and tea, which provided a welcome distraction, at least for Sirius whose fondness for coffee bordered on addiction. 

“Mister Remus Sir!” squealed the house-elf when Remus arrived a few moments later accompanied by Madam and the tiger.  It scampered across the room and tugged on Remus’ trouserlegs like a dog that’s ready for walkies.

James and Sirius exchanged puzzled glances.  Remus was limping slightly and held one of his arms at an odd angle, as if it wouldn’t move properly.  He wasn’t wearing the threadbare flannel shirt any more either.  The house-elf’s effusive familiarity bore some investigating, James decided, but later and in private.

 “About bloody time!”  Sirius grumbled loudly, although he grinned, having lost none of his cheerful good will.

“Gentlemen,” said Madam, smoothly detaching herself from Remus’s arm, “I trust you’ve all enjoyed yourselves?”  Her question was greeted by a chorus of mumbles.  She handed the box of wands to Sirius and said with a chuckle, “I’ll take that as a positive response.” 

Sirius put down his coffee cup and took the box.  He turned it over in his hands, making sure that this was the box he’d remembered, then he put his palm down on the top and the color changed from blue to black.  Sirius opened the box and took out his own wand, then tossed the others theirs.  Remus fumbled his catch, but the house-elf scrambled for it on the floor and gave it to him.

“That will be all, Netty,” Madam said to the elf, who vanished with a Pop!  She turned her attention to the men.  “You may Apparate, if you wish, or take those doors, which lead out to Seven Shoe Alley.  If you’re too tired to Apparate--I know it’s late--there’s Floo powder here as well.”

“You don’t give out rain checks, do you?” asked Sirius.  “What if someone falls asleep, for example, and can’t… ”

She laughed merrily and answered, “I am sorry, Sirius, but a key is needed to get back into Tigerseye.  We should love to see you again, but I’m afraid you’ll have to prevail on Mr. Pettigrew’s generosity.  And speaking of that, here is your key, Peter.”

Peter examined the ornate gold key that she gave him suspiciously, as if it might have changed during the time they’d been there.  Satisfied that it was unharmed, he put it in the pocket of his trousers.  Although he smiled, he didn’t seem much relieved.

“And how is our bridegroom feeling?” she said pleasantly to James.  “Did you find Tigerseye as relaxing as promised?”

James eyed Sirius warily, sure that anything he said would be amplified and misinterpreted.  “I told Elsa that I’d send photos from the wedding so that you can see how it all turns out.  Er, thanks…and all that.”

“Your bride is a very lucky woman,” said Madam.  With that, she leaned close to James and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  “Off you get now.  I’m sure you’ll want to sleep as much as you can.”

James stepped toward the fireplace resolutely, but then turned to look at his friends:  Peter nervously plucking at the sleeve of his jacket, Sirius grinning and more relaxed than he’d been in weeks, and Remus kneeling down to pet the big white tiger that had mysteriously befriended him.  James cleared his throat, smiled at them, and then didn’t quite know where to begin.  “I’ve had a few adventures with you, but this one--”

“Aw, Prongs, not a speech!  I’m going to go all weepy if you make a speech,” Sirius jeered, rocking on the balls of his feet as he often did when he was spoiling for a good row..

“--was one of the best,” James continued.  “Sirius, I thought I was going to have to muzzle you a couple of times this evening--if Remus didn’t beat me to it.  Peter, you’re a man of unsuspected resources, courage and nerve, though I hope your father never finds out just how resourceful you are.  And Remus…I don’t know how or why you put up with the lot of us, but I’m glad you do.”

Sirius mimed wiping his eyes with larger-than-life gestures and then flung his arms out, as if to give James a hug.  James laughed and then took a handful of Floo powder from the bowl on the mantelpiece, threw it into the flames and said, “Godric’s Hollow.”  James was to meet Lily at the little house he’d recently bought.  The flames flared green and he stepped in, calling over his shoulder before he disappeared, “And don’t be late, any of you!”

“Yeah, we can’t afford to have the ushers be late,” Sirius said, looking pointedly at Remus. 

“Mmm?” Remus looked up from where he’d knelt down to pet the tiger, which was trying give the side of his face a good washing with its rough tongue.  “Hey, Shambles,” Remus said and playfully pushed the tiger’s head away.  “That’s enough of that.”  He stood up, one hand on the tiger’s back to steady himself.  “Are you still going to come back to my mum’s with me?”

Sirius nodded and said, “I think we’d better take Floo powder.  You don’t look like you should be Apparating.  Now, Peter--”  Crack!  Sirius turned around, but Peter had vanished.  “Hmph.  How do you like that?  Apparated away right from under our noses.”  He turned to Madam, uncertain what to say.  “We’d better get going, eh?”

She smiled openly and then gave him a light kiss on the cheek, as she had James.  “We shan’t forget you, Sirius.  You were one of the most entertaining guests we’ve had in a long time.  And you…” She turned to Remus, her expression still warm, but more complex.

Remus met her gaze for a moment, then shook his head dismissively and looked down at his feet.  She took his hand and held it for a moment, until he glanced up at her again, surprise evident on his face.  “You don’t have to…” he said softly.

“We shall see,” she said and laughed in a way that said the conversation was at an end.  “Come on, Shambles, let’s not keep the gentlemen any longer.”  With that, she turned for the door, not looking back again.  The tiger followed her, its rumbling purr adding the final punctuation before the door closed.

Sirius took a handful of Floo powder and stared at Remus thoughtfully.  “Ready?”

“Hang on.  We forgot our jackets and I need my boots,” Remus said and limped over to the last remaining pair.

“All right, come clean,” Sirius said as he plucked their jackets from where they were hanging.  He watched Remus struggle to put first one boot and then the other on while leaning against the wall.  “Either you were into something really kinky involving a tiger and a house-elf or…”

“Or what?  Yes, that certainly is an interesting question, Sirius,” Remus drawled with amusement.  He jammed one hand into the pocket of trousers and slowly made his way to the fireplace.  “Let’s just say that the tiger and I came to an understanding.”

Sirius snorted in disbelief.  Remus didn’t know what to believe as he fingered the heavy gold key in his pocket, not Peter’s key, but the one that she had pressed into his hand, the key to Tigerseye.