A Chance You Only Get Once

Chapter Three
Somewhat Less Than Subtle

Mariella Goring was obsessive about her cauldron. Actually, she was obsessive about just about everything to do with her potion-making stations. Then again, she was a fifteen year old girl doing the kind of research that grown, qualified witches and wizards had been doing futilely for a very long time, all of it under the close eye of both Professor Severus Snape and Madam Pomfrey. Not that Remus Lupin was complaining considering he was her guinea pig. He was actually rather glad that Mariella was so methodical and meticulous about her potions, he was taking them afterall.

But it was still amusing to see her running her gloved hands all up and down the cauldron to check for leaks when she had just prepared another potion (and run the same check) only a few hours ago. He had commented on this once, and she had immediately snapped back that the ingredients she was using were so extraordinarily expensive that a leak could mean much more than that she may have to do the potion over again. However, as long as he stayed away from comments about her quirks, watching her prepare the potions was easily the most enjoyable time he spent at his new "job." Everyone called it that out of kindness, but Remus felt keenly how far he had come from his work at the Ministry after Dolores Umbridge's decree was ratified.

The actual experiments, Mariella called them "observations," every full moon were nowhere near fun, of course. It was difficult to tell her if things were better or not; it was impossible to compare his past experiences because a human hadn't been sitting in the room with him while he transformed in the past. Then there was the abject terror that her precautions would not succeed, that he would get past the barrier she had set up around the old couch in the Shrieking Shack. Sure, she assured him that she would merely transform into her owl form, but that was a whole new source of guilt.

He had told her about James, Peter and ... Black's ... animagus forms. She hadn't told anyone, not even Dumbledore, but Remus sometimes wondered if the man understood why she couldn't get accurate data watching him in her animal form. Remus wondered how much Dumbledore could guess...

So the only really safe times were when he was watching her prepare the ingredients and artfully manage the cauldron. He had never thought he would think of potionmaking as an art form, but the way Mariella Goring did it ... well he appreciated that she was an artist.

What he liked about the time they spent in the deserted Hospital Wing, however, was that they were talking while she worked. It had been a very long time since anyone talked to him like they truly believed that he was human being. He found himself being honest with her. It had been almost easy, natural for him to tell her about his friends' work and sacrifice. She was the only one that he had talked to about Lily and James and Peter and Marissa. But not Sirius. He didn't doubt that she noticed the omission, but perhaps she understood anyway. Sirius Black was not a pleasant subject, even the memories of the better days.

Another person that they never talked about was Snape. It was odd, considering that he was intimately involved with every part of the project but the test subject. But Mariella Goring never spoke of him. He had asked why once.

"Why don't you hate him?"

"Who?" Mariella asked confusedly, concentrating on the Shrivelfig she was shredding expertly. "Bill? Are you kidding? He was the first person in the three years to look at me without flinching! I can forgive Weasley for being a prat about my boyfriend."

"No, Snape."

Mariella actually stopped slicing. The knife froze mid-stroke. She looked over at him in shock. "Whatever gave you the idea that I didn't?" she asked quietly. She paused, then gave a little shake of her head and added, "And for that matter, whatever gave you the reason that I should?"

"You have more reason to hate him than we ever did," Remus replied. "Don't even try to tell me that you don't blame him for your parents' death."

"All right," Mariella replied. "I won't." She looked back down at the counter and began to slice again. "And, yes, of course I hate him for it."

"Then ... then how do you do it?" Remus asked, unable to keep back the question that had burned within him since they began the project. "I mean, work with him, learn from him? He tutors you almost nightly, not to mention helping you research and design the potion each month. How can you even stand to be in the same room with him for Potions class?"

Mariella stopped working again and answered, "I forget it after awhile when I'm around him."

Remus stared mutely at her. "How do you forget something like that?" he demanded.

"Damned if I know. I guess it's just that ... it's just that ... I know that my parents weren't good people. I have no illusions as to that. They were Death Eaters. I'm coming to grips with it," Mariella said, a shudder running through her. "I realize he's not a bleeding heart like Dumbledore; he's the kind who'd realize that it would be better if they were dead ... but still I can't..," she trailed off for a moment. Then she said unexpectedly, "I caught him wincing once, when I was beheading catepillars. He's not kind, but he does have a sense of honor and a kind of courage. It's extreme and prejudiced, but it's a sense of right and wrong nonetheless. Hard to see, perhaps, but still there. Somehow I just, I just can't make myself look at him and think that he would let my parents die without trying hard to make myself remember it."

"It's funny," Remus said. "You and I, we're the first to accuse Severus Snape of indirect murder, but in the end we're the first to disbelieve it."

"Well, he's a complex one, almost as complex as this potion," Mariella replied clinically, returning to her work.

"Kind of like our little matchmaker, how do you know Mundungus Fletcher, Mariella?" Remus asked.

"Funny you should use that term, 'matchmaker.' It's a long story, Dung's and my friendship. Suffice it to say I introduced him to his brother and his wife," Mariella replied. "That's why he figured he owed me, anyway."

"Ah, yes, the future Mrs. Joy Fletcher, lovely woman. Friend of Bill's, didn't you say?" Remus asked.

"Yes, from Brazil, sent him a hat last year that did such things to his hair!" Mariella laughed reminisciently.

"And you took Dung to see Harry?" Remus said more seriously. "How did that happen?"

"Harry gave his cousin, I think it's Dustin or Dudley, Dragon Pox," Mariella explained. "And of course, Harry could throw it off, but his cousin ... well, I used the excuse to let Mundungus see the boy who would have been his brother. That was disaster, care to hear the story?"

"Summarize it for me," Remus replied.

"You know the comics The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle?" Mariella asked, sounding highly amused. Remus nodded slowly. "The first issue is actually the story of a man taking a baseball bat to some Christmas carolers in a nice, quiet neighborhood..."

"No!" Remus cried in surprise.

"I'm afraid so. Took me half an hour to calm them down after I subdued Dung, and once I had almost convinced them that he was a mental patient not usually dangerous, in comes Petunia and starts screaming like crazy that I'm a witch," Mariella laughed, shaking her head at the memory. It was just barely long enough ago to be funny rather than awful. "And can you believe he justified himself 'They said "Merry Christmas, Gus"'? Petunia was screaming for an hour even after I ushered the carolers away until the Ministry arrived and calmed her down."

"So Petunia hasn't changed, then?" Remus asked.

"I don't know, what was she like before?" Mariella countered. "Dung's certainly changed if he ever was the way you've described him, though. That's for sure."

* * *

McGonagoll's face was stern, but Marissa could still distinguish both lips, which she took to be a good sign, even if they seemed a shade thinner than usual. She tried to tell herself that they always looked like that after a few weeks without seeing them. If she hadn't been so nervous about Gus she might have convinced herself.

"Miss Fletcher," she began once they were seated. "I have been informed that you took it upon yourself as prefect to organize the students left behind in Gryffindor Tower over the break."

Marissa was utterly bewildered. She smiled uncertainly, wondering where this was heading. "I have further been informed that one such activity you arranged was a scavenger hunt," McGonagoll continued sternly.

"If that is true, which I do not admit," Marissa replied smoothly, glad that the conversation was in a realm that it was safe to visit with the Professor, "I would never include anything dangerous in the scavenger hunt and would have, hypothetically of course, included instructions to obtain all the items within school rules."

"Yes, I'm certain that you would, allegedly," McGonagoll said, what looked to the practiced eye like a smile tugging at her lips and to the unpracticed eye like she was glowering at Marissa. "And after perusing the hypothetical list that you may or may not have given the Gryffindor girls who were staying behind," she drawled sarcastically. "I have determined that none of these objectives, as you do not admit to have called them here, are for a malicious purpose or against school rules, as you so correctly state. However, the final item..," Now a smile was definitely tugging at the corners of her lips. "Call me strict if you like, but it appears to be an invasion of privacy."

Marissa looked over at the list, staring down at the final item. Written in what her teacher of five years must surely recognize as her handwriting, were the words, "James Potter's boxers." Marissa tried very hard to meet her eyes after glancing down at this list. "Out of curiousity, just who is it turned me in?" Marissa asked, not quite looking up at McGonagoll.

At that moment, a book toppled off of McGonagoll's shelf unexpectedly. Marissa endured a brief moment of utter panic before McGonagoll bellowed, "PEEVES! OUT!" She tried not too look too relieved when McGonagoll turned back to her and asked her to put the book back up on its shelf. Hoping that Mundungus had had the sense to move and would have the sense not to be so nosy from now on, Marissa did so. However, glancing at the title she could scarcely blame him, although Hogwarts, A History was unlikely to provide him with any of the interesting, or rather illegal, information that Mundungus would appreciate. Marissa smiled to think what damage Gus could do with the knowledge that the Marauders had. He would have been a terror if he had been one of them.

"Returning to the matter at hand," McGonagoll said, staring reproachfully at a spot of thin air (hopefully empty thin air) that she thought might still contain Peeves. "The complaint was made anonymously, but Mr. Potter has since claimed that twenty pairs of his boxers have gone missing."

Marissa snorted. McGonagoll looked up at her, her mouth going very thin. "I'm sorry," Marissa said, giggling as she said it. "It's - it's not funny, I'm not laughing," she said, struggling unsucessfully to supress her chuckles. "It's not remotely funny I don't know why I would laugh I apologize." She tried to hold it in and snorted again a moment later. McGonagoll sent her a very stern look. "Twenty?" she stuttered, "There aren't twenty people in Gryffindor Tower at Christmas, much less the girls I gave the scavenger hunt to ... oh." At the realization, Marissa could not suppress yet another chuckle. "Just how many pairs of boxers does he have? Twenty?"

"Apparently he has far less now that he did before Christmas," McGonagoll said sternly, but though her mouth was very thin, Marissa thought that the fact that the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts was discussing James Potter's boxers with her house's prefect was not lost on the old Transfiguration professor. Marissa tried desperately to stop giggling and suceeded this time, but couldn't keep the quite unhelpful smirk off her face. "Which you will be required to replace."

"I don't have a lot of Potter worthy boxers lying around in my room, Professor," Marissa replied daringly. "Or galleons. Will the Muggle equivalent of either do?"

"This is a very serious matter, Miss Fletcher," McGonagoll reprimanded her. "You will make reparations to Mr. Potter or see to it that every ... item, is returned promptly. In the future you will restrict any activities, especially those to take place in your absense, to those which inconvenience no one else. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Marissa replied, trying her best to look chastized rather than amused.

"Good," McGonagoll replied tersely. "Now, you may go. Be more mindful of private property in the future, and I trust we'll never have to have this conversation again."

"Thank you, ma'am," Marissa said. She held the door open for a long time, until she was absolutely certain that she felt Gus brush past her. Once outside she heaved a sigh of relief. McGonagoll didn't know about Gus yet, and she hadn't even gotten a detention for the scavenger hunt. All in all, it was not nearly so bad as she had expected.

It was as she was heading down the corridors that the discussion hit her again, causing her to fall into a fit of giggles that caused many odd looks to be directed her way. A mysterious force seemed to be causing the overtly hostile to drop their books or trip unexplainedly. All in all, Marissa and Gus's journey through the school was far from subtle.

Considering, it was almost surprising that they made it to the Day Star Room without any further trouble. The original purpose of the Day Star Room might have been anything from scientific to romantic. The small, circular ceiling was enchanted much like the one above the Great Hall. However, instead of showing the sky outside as it really was, it showed what stars would have been seen if clouds or the sun didn't block them from view. Looking up at the ceiling at noon, one could see the stars that no one ever saw, because they came out only during the day when the sun shone too brightly for them to be visible. As far back as anyone could remember, it had served as a kind of ad hoc dormitory, not that anyone officially slept there. Professor Sinistra was known to use the room for catnaps during experiments or observations or to do research on the skies that no one else would ever see.

"I like this room," Gus declared, gaping up at the "sky" above him. "It won't ... it won't rain on my in here will it?" he looked up at her so earnestly that Marissa had to bite back a laugh.

"No, Gus, you'll be all snug and dry in the worst of storms," Marissa replied. Which may be what's in store for us, she added silently. "Do you like it?" Gus merely turned to her with eyes wide with amazement. Marissa laughed in understanding. "Well, it's a bit small, and if you get cabin fever in here I'm not sure how we can relieve it ... the only really safe time to take you out anywhere is at night and that's just about the worst time to be wandering around the castle," Marissa warned him. He looked up at her in confusion. Hogwarts was heaven, how could there be any problems with heaven? She smiled to reassure him.

"How did they make this room, Marissa?" he said, staring back up at the ceiling with wonder.

"Well, according to that book you were trying to steal from McGonagoll," Marissa added dryly. "The Astronomy teacher Professor Sinistra's husband made it for her almost forty years ago for their first year anniversary. She was obsessed with the night skies to the point that he caught her frowning up at the sun, resenting it for hiding the stars that came out during the day from view. So he made her this room. Reportedly it took him over half of their first year of marriage, but she loved it."

"Ah that's mushy stuff," Gus waved the charming tale aside. "What I want to know is how did he do it?"

Marissa grinned. Just like a boy to be interested in the mechanics of it rather than the motive. "If I knew that I wouldn't have to worry about two and a half more years of school, now would I?" she countered his question, ruffling his hair.

"Do you think you could find out how?" Gus asked her excitedly.

"That would take a very long time, Gus," Marissa said steadily. "Which I don't have to spare with you to take care of. But if you want, I'll sneak you a copy of Hogwarts, A History so you can look up something about it."

"Cool!" he replied enthusiastically, still gaping around at the room.

Marissa smiled to herself, knowing that he would have lost interest in the question long before she could get any books to him to research it for himself.

* * *

Lily was waiting for Marissa when she entered her room at long last. "Did you talk to McGonagoll?" she asked sharply before Marissa could even greet her. Marissa nodded. "And is Mundungus. . .here?" Lily continued, sounding very upset about something.

"You of all people should know that a boy couldn't get up the staircase, Lils, no he's not staying here, however much I'd like that. I set him up in that little spare bedroom near the Astronomy Tower, you know, Professor Sinistra's hideaway," Marissa replied, setting down her purse and plopping down on her own bed without fanfare.

"Brilliant, Riss, the number one snog spot in Hogwarts!" Lily said, sitting up on her bed, looking almost as stern as McGonagoll.

"Afraid it'll cramp your style, Lils?" Marissa teased, kicking off her shoes. Lily gave her a very unappreciative look. "My, my, I do believe we've found the one look that does not look appealing on the glamorous Miss Lily Evans: sour annoyance." Lily looked about to make a furious retort, but Marissa cut her off, "Come now, Lils, think. Mr and the future Mrs Jackson Abbot got caught kissing in their last month, causing our esteemed and well-meaning professors to seal the room. The sudden epiphany of the glaringly obvious to the staff makes it quite undesirable for desiring students, and the professors, dear, misguided souls that they are, believe that their enchantments are sufficient. Silly dears, don't they realize who they're dealing with? So I have, in fact, installed Gus in the one place in this castle where no one is likely to go."

"So he's there now?" Lily asked, sitting stiffly straight up and almost glaring at her. Marissa glanced at her best friend, then nodded in the same non-chalant way she had acted throughout the entire conversation. "Good, because we need to talk," Lily said, staring down at her seriously. She appeared to be assembling herself for a calm, rational discussion in the moment she took a deep breath, but when she opened her mouth a yell came out, "ARE YOU CLINICALLY INSANE?!"

"No, not clinically. 'Technically insane' however is debatable - " Marissa returned lightly but more warily than before.

"You kidnapped your little brother and brough him with you to Hogwarts!" Lily cried, her tone one of question and extreme exasperation. "Did you do a vanishing trick with your marbles and lose them completely?"

"Why do you need some?" Marissa replied, waving her wand and causing a cascade of marble to tumble down from the ceiling. Their canopies were protecting them, but Lily looked furious.

"Stop them now," she replied dangerously. Marissa shrugged and waved her wand, mumbling the counterspell quietly enough that Lily wouldn't be able to hear it. After a moment's staring contest with her incensed best friend, Marissa picked up one of the stray marbles on her bed and extended her hand toward Lily. She let out an inarticulate cry of frustration.

Marissa pulled her arm back and gazed down at the marble as she spoke, "I don't like the word kidnap, Lils. It implies I took him against his will, that I didn't take him to a better place than he was before. I helped him run away."

"Oh, you just helped him run away, did you!"

"Calm down, Lils."

"Calm down Lils!" Lily shrieked, obviously losing it completely. "Have you any idea what it is you've done?"

"Yes, and I think it's quite safe to say that I have a far better understaning of exactly what it is I've done than you do, Lily Violet Evans," Marissa returned snappishly, or as close as Lily had ever heard her come. "Now will you calm down and let me contemplate just how deep I've gotten myself in without drowning in your yelling?"

Lily calmed down only slightly. "You're in way over your head here, Riss. Even for you."

"I know, Lils, I know, believe me I know," Marissa replied pacifyingly. "But there's no turning back now." Lily slumped a bit, relaxing onto the bed.

For a minute, silence reigned in the room. Then Marissa shifted and pulled James's cloak out of her robes. "Will you take James's cloak back to him for me? It was one of his conditions for letting me have it." Lily made a very disgruntled noise. "He likes you, Lily, don't take it like an insult." Lily grunted again, not in agreement. "You can tell him off when you do. . ." Marissa enticed her temptingly.

"The damned voyeur," Lily mumbled with a bit of her own spirit back, taking the Invisibility Cloak from Marissa.

"Be subtle, Lily!" she called after her as the door closed.

* * *

"Riss there are a bunch of giggling first years down in the Common Room waving around stuffed vulture hats and living miniature griffin models screaming for you?" Lily said as she swept into the room.

Marissa grinned and rolled off the bed, landing on her shoes and sliding into them. "Sure you don't want to come? If you knew about McGonagoll I bet you've heard what the last item on their list was?"

Lily sighed and didn't respond. She grabbed her Transfiguration book (her favorite subject) and sat down on the windowseat to read it. Marissa gave her a smile that she didn't see and flitted out the door without disturbing her.

The moment she entered the Common Room, she was ambushed for the - what? third? she was losing count - time that day. This time she was at least expecting it. "So I take it you all did the scavenger hunt?" Marissa shouted over the excited babble.

There was a great roar off cheering that she took for a yes. "All right. ALL RIGHT!" she yelled to get their attention. Another person would have been uncomfortably aware that the whole of Gryffindor Tower was watching the preceedings with expressions varying from amusement to derisiveness, but Marissa was aware only of the very conspicuous absense of all of the Marauders but Remus who had seated himself in a corner and was reading (Potions, he was atrocious at it and always trying to study it in his spare time). "If you all turn in the - ahem - final item on the list I'll be able to determine who won the Hunt."

There was a mad scramble during which everyone, at some vague point in the confusion, handed her a pair of James Potter's boxers. "Okay," she said when they had all begun to back away, "Ready to meet the winner?" They all nodded eagerly.

Marissa took out her wand pronounced grandly, "The Winner. . .of the 1976 Gryffindor Yuletide Scavenger Hunt is. . .premio comenzo." One pair of boxers, a black, simple one thank goodness for all concerned, rose up from the pile and floated over to one gleeful looking girl who gave a great cheer and jumped up and down in her excitement.

Marissa clapped for her and soon the entire Common Room was cheering good-naturedly for her. "Congratulations to Sarah Portman!" Marissa cried over the ruckus, lifting her arm aloft in triumph. "For your prize, you may keep any of the Scavenger Hunt items that you wish as a trophy a-a-a-and. . .twenty galleons prize money!"

"Twenty galleons?" Frank Longbottom demanded indignantly. "Cheap, are you, Fletcher?"

"I won't take that from you, Longbottom!" Marissa returned. "Not unless you're willing to pitch in the extra galleons to make up the difference."

Frank almost scowled. Then he smiled, his grin jolly as he went for his purse. Marissa sighed, it was a great goal in her life to make Frank Longbottom frown. It would give her almost as much pleasure as seeing him finally admit his feelings for Alice Watterbe. She only had two years left, but she was determined that both would be accomplished before he graduated.

"Get the boxers!" the girl next to Sarah cried excitedly. Everyone laughed. "I'm serious!" she shrieked over them. Everyone laughed again.

"You can have it. Everyone else, see if you can get Frank to fund a second and third place cash prize," Marissa said with a mischievious glint in her eye.

She used the opportunity to slip off to Remus's corner with James's remaining boxers still in tow. She sat down in the armchair next to him and pointedly closed his book. "I have a proposition for James and Sirius, and I need you to play messenger boy for me," Marissa replied. "Afterall, you're the only one of the Marauders who I trust to be honest about a transaction of this nature."

"I already got you one of our most secretive treasures for you, and you send Lily to return it quite embarassingly. Selling them on any loan will be very difficult just now," Remus replied, flipping through the book trying to find his place again.

"Not a loan so much as a trade," Marissa replied. "You see, I have in my possession what I have previously been informed by no lesser an authority than McGonagoll herself is every single pair of underwear that James Potter possesses. And while he may be getting by for a time, I have the feeling he would very much appreciate having them back. Now, I know that he quite desperately wants these back rather than cash compensation because however understanding Mr and Mrs Potter are, I don't think they'll appreciate the request to buy him an entire new set of boxers that are being bankrolled by his female friend." Remus looked up at her in surprise, looking appreciative of her twisted mind. "And the next time any of you boys go to McGonagoll about me remember that I have enough on the lot of you to keep you in detentions every night until the end of the year."

"It's interesting to hear you threaten us, the Golden Girl of Hogwarts and all," Remus said with a smile, marking the page he appeared to have finally found.

"Who me? I'm quite happy to return your friends pants, but I want something in return."

"So what do you want in return for their return?" Remus asked, looking over at her.

"I want James and Sirius' mirrors," Marissa replied. Remus choked and goggled at her. "I know what they can do, and I want to borrow them, rest assured I'll return them."

"Regardless of whether you'll return what you want in return for the return of the. . .items," Remus replied. "Oh hang it all, Marissa, I'll come right out and ask, how in the world do you know about all this? Just how many of our supposed secrets do you know?"

"You really don't want to know that answer, Remus, at least not yet. Take my offer to your friends, and tell them they'd do well to accept my terms," Marissa replied, standing.

"Just what do you want them for, Riss?" Marissa smiled mischieviously and Remus decided that he didn't really want to know afterall.

* * *

"Hey Prongs," Remus said, plopping down on his bed a few minutes later. "Here's a question I never thought I'd ask: do you want your underwear back?"

All three of his fellow Marauders stared at him. "What we're all interested to know, Moony, is who you have asked that question of," Sirius replied immediately.

Remus rolled his eyes and plowed on. "And here is question I really never thought I'd ask: what are you willing to do to get your underwear back?"

"Oh now you're just teasing us, Moony, c'mon, give us a hint who he - uh, she was!" Sirius replied mercilessly. "If you don't we'll be forced to guess."

"Bottomline, James," Remus continued, pretending that he could not hear Sirius beginning to list those he believed Remus may have used the line on, "Marissa has all of your boxers, but refuses to return them unless you lend her yours and Padfoot's two way mirrors."

"Has she bloody gone wacko?" Sirius exclaimed, not realizing he was the second to do so in the past half hour. "After what she's put us through? She's got to be nuts, she knows McGonagoll's got her over the barrel!"

"She wants the mirrors?" James exclaimed dumbfounded. "How the bloody hell does she even know about all this? And she expects favors after showing Lily the Cloak? Now she's convinced I've used it to spy on her in the loo or something! And she wants our mirrors!"

"Basically," Remus replied evenly.

"That's some nerve!"

"Well, she made provisions for it, if you were of that opinion," Remus replied, glancing down at his rather longer than necessary nails rather than at his friends.

All three turned to look at him with interest and slight alarm at that. "What does that mean, Moony?" James finally demanded indignantly.

"Oh wake up, Prongs, you know she doesn't bust us for half of what she realizes is going on, by the Philosopher's Stone she's known about the Cloak for Merlin knows how long!" Remus snapped, looking up at him. "And isn't it just like Rissa to keep a record of everything she's let us off for to blackmail us with when it's necessary to make us do the right thing?" All four Marauders were looking very sober at this.

"She wouldn't dare," Sirius said confidently.

"If that's the risk you want to take," Remus said carelessly, knowing that Peter and James would take the bait at least.

James appeared to be thinking very hard, which was not a very good sign for Marissa Fletcher at the moment. "All right, I say lend her the mirrors."

Sirius made an outraged cry of protest. "Lend, Padfoot, lend," James assured him. "But prank her so silly she'll wish she never knew that they existed."

So that was the gleam in his eye. "No way, Prongs, we're talking about Marissa here, we stop sparing her and soon enough we'll be turning on eachother," Remus tried desperately, looking to Peter for support.

"Well, I vote for starting a prank war, it's not like we stand any real chance of losing," Sirius replied with ill-disguised excitement.

"That's two votes, Moony, a Marauder almost-majority," James replied.

"You and Sirius together only count as one vote, remember?" Remus snapped back at them.

"Why's that?" James demanded.

"Because you always vote the same," Remus said with the air of one extending patience on a three year old. James and Sirius looked at eachother for a minute, then shrugged and nodded in agreement.

"All right Peter, all up to you then," James said, turning to him, his very expression putting pressure on poor Pettigrew whom they all knew hated being put on the spot like this.

He cleared his throat nervously, afraid of upsetting any of his friends. Then the memory of the look on Marissa's face when she pulled away, that shock that proved she had not known him so well as he had always thought. He remembered how it felt to have his lips against hers and have her not responding in the least, and he made his decision. "Let's get her."

©KatyMulvaney2-Friday13-2004

Posted: 11/13/04