Darkening

The professor, mopping sweat from his brow with a silken handkerchief as he entered the room, jumped as if startled to see the class seated there. Rubbing his eyes and disguising a yawn in a way that suggested he'd overslept, he examined them. "Third years, is it?" he mused to himself, looking for his schedule. He looked up and his eyes lit up as they caught on the redhead in the front of the class. "Aha! My second year Gryffindors and," he tried vainly to catch the crest on the robes of the other students out of the corner of his eye and decided to take a stab at it, "Rav- and my dear Hufflepuffs. Well, it is good to see you all back, hello Miss Evans, Black," he nodded at James as well but failed to name him, which miffed him somewhat. His red face beamed as he noticed the package on his desk and nodded his head at a Hufflepuff. "And Mister Odgen, a start of the term gift, you are too kind, my dear boy, too kind..."

"I wouldn't mind a crate of Odgen's myself," James whispered to Sirius, shifting from hoping that Slughorn would forget he had a class and fail to show up to readily apparent boredom.

His friend looked at him, shaking his head. "Ever actually tasted the stuff?" he hissed, ignoring Slughorn's ongoing greetings to his favorites.

"What, have you?"

"Yeah, my father forgot to put Sealing Charms on the liquor cabinet one day." He shuddered. "Stupidest thing I've ever done-"

"Which is truly saying something," Remus Lupin interjected, plunking his lead cauldron on his desk.

"Trust me, mate," Sirius said sincerely. "Firewhiskey's wretched stuff. Can't imagine why people drink it." With a flourish, he raised his hand to mime slitting his own throat and gagged. "You'll never catch me touching-"

"Oho, so you do have experience with a Deflating Draft, Mister Black?" the rotund professor exclaimed, having apparently mistaken Sirius' mouth opening and hand raising as the volunteering of an answer.

The dark-haired boy turned frontward, brows crinkled downward. "Well, I had reckoned we'd be doing something a tad more difficult this year," he offered casually, idly lifting his quill and scribbling on parchment Deflating Draft?? and sliding it over to Remus.

Slughorn chuckled, waggling a chubby finger at him. "No, no, Sirius, always eager to jump ahead, aren't you? No, it's quite necessary, for this class particularly, that you learn how to make this potion..."

Lily Evans mildly raised her hand. "Because members of this class particularly would benefit should Black and Potter have their heads deflated?"

Sirius and James turned and shot her identical wounded looks as Slughorn threw his head back and shook with laughter along with the Hufflepuffs, Gryffindor girls, and Remus Lupin. Peter Pettigrew, stalwartly frowning at Evans, muttered, "She ought to lose points for that. Wasn't even funny."

Slughorn, regaining control, smiled. "Such cheek, my dear, such cheek... No, no, though I have, in consideration of our resident troublemakers," he winked in what he probably thought was a good-humored manner at James and Sirius, "altered my usual schedule so that plenty of Deflating Drafts are made before we move onto Swelling Solutions... "

"I can see why he's concerned. One drop of Swelling Solution and he'll explode," James murmured spitefully as he nudged Sirius, eyeing the bulging clasps of Slughorn's rather dressy robes.

"Amusing until we all get showered with half-digested ice mice and Ogden's Finest," Sirius said regretfully. He eyed the professor with a certain amount of loathing and muttered out of the side of his mouth. "Not to mention the treacle he's got running in his veins where he ought to have blood, the smarmy walrus with his breakfast still caught in that ridiculous mustache-"

"Yes, Sirius?" Slughorn called out, eyeballing the young boy suspiciously.

His gaze sidled down to the note Lupin had passed back and snapped back up again. "I was actually commenting-" He paused and did a double take back down to the note and fought the sudden impulse to squint at it and hold it up to the light. It was true that he commonly heard complaints from his teachers on the sloppiness of his writing, but Lupin's tight, loopy and supposedly neat cursive was to his mind far more difficult to read. He sighed. Great. He'd have to bullshit, as usual. "That, uh, these Deflatory Draughts-"

James, inwardly groaning, chimed in, "He was just saying that Deflating Drafts can be used to fix Engorgio charms gone bad." He grinned charmingly. "The sort often done by wizardlings and witchlets with a penchant for stealing their parent's wands."

A funny sort of coughing sound emerged from Evans' throat, as if she either found this very funny or very stupid or was simply indescribably jealous she lacked that wizarding youth. It took Peter and Sirius together to keep James from turning to grin at her.

"Very true," Slughorn said dismissively, his eyes darting to the firewhiskey on his desk.

"Good save, James," Peter said approvingly.

Black, affirmatively, gave him a thumbs up before gazing wistfully at the Ravenclaw section. "'S such a pity we don't have Potions with the Slyhterins this year," he sighed.

At the terrified looks he was receiving, he added, "It's going to be so dull when I can't ruin Snivelly's day... Of course," he added with a scowl, ignoring the directions that were being written on the board by chalk dust collecting in herds to form letters, "the last thing I want to hear at this time in the morning is how," he pulled an unattractive face, "wonderful and exceptional and prodigious the greasy-haired git's potions are..." he muttered, tilting his chair back onto its back legs.

"You'd think he'd be able to whip up some better hair care products," Remus added off-hand, though he was carefully writing down the instructions. Potions was his most abysmal subject, thus he put that much more effort into it.

James' mouth twisted unpleasantly and he lowered his voice. "I'd suggest we clean it up for him, but I doubt even our best efforts would accomplish anything on that head. It's his slimy thoughts, they leak onto his head... and you know those must be bad, have you ever seen anything as oily as Snivellus' head-"

A lilting voice from behind them interjected thoughtfully. "Bundimun secretion comes close."

James' head whipped around to see McKinnon, elbows propped up on her desk and chin perched in her hands, nod her head towards the glowering Evans who seemed to be deciding how best to grievously injure boys who spoke nastily of someone behind his back without the courtesy of at least insulting him to his face. "If ya don't have anything nice to say," the Irish girl began, "then keep your voices down. Some of us," she added, jabbing at herself and appealing directly to Remus, "actually need to worry about passing Potions."

"Cauldrons out," said Slughorn briskly, though his voice was a bit thick, he seemed to be chewing on some kind of taffy. "Let's see what you can make of this..."

"Bundimun secretion," Sirius chortled to himself, and then realized the rest of the class seemed to going up to collect some sort of ingredient from the front of the room and leaped out of his seat to follow them.
It was a relief when the class finally ended, since Sirius very early on managed to discover a very interesting new smell with a mistaken combination of ingredients.

The Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors rushed out of the dungeon room, coughing and airing out their robes as they ran. A few in their hurry left their books. Sirius Black laughed like a madman, head thrown back, though the effect was rather ruined by the plug on the end of his nose. James managed to laugh with more dignity, a broad grin creasing his face as he threw an arm over Sirius' shoulder and yelled at Peter to hurry up.

A tall, gangly young man with a narrow face peered at them as they ran by and to their surprise, snagged James by the hood of his robes as they walked by. Sirius, instinctively, leaped at the seventh year at the sight of a threat to his best friend and all three went tumbling to the floor.

The older boy, Gryffindor crest on his robes, pushed himself to his feet as if this was the usual and attempted to help them both up but only succeeded in tripping over James' dropped books and landing on them both.

"Sorry," he said cheerfully, getting to his feet and brushing the two young and utterly bewildered boys to their feet. Peter stood anxiously nearby while Remus watched over the top of his Defense Against the Arts book, which he paged through while walking. "Potter, right? Wotcher. Note for you from Gryffindor's glorious captain," he said wryly, handing a piece of paper over.

"Ah," said Sirius. He winced, the side of his mouth contorting leftwards. "Didn't mean to, well, tackle you there..."

"'S fine, nothing out of the ordinary," he said airily, gesturing casually. His arm swept out and knocked over a passing fourth year girl. The young man spun, swearing. "Ah, dreadfully sorry..."

James hustled forward, Sirius attempting to peer at the note over his head by jumping up every step or so.

"Do we know him?" Remus wondered, lifting an eyebrow and tilting his head back at the student diminishing in size as they moved forward.

"Yeah," James said dismissively. "Chaser. The one who dented the middle goal post last year....Well, that's not very nice," he mused, tossing the note over his shoulder. Sirius dove for it, but it was lost in the stampede between classes.

"What was it?" Peter asked eagerly.

James turned to the shorter boy with a shrug. "Ah, threats. Things Bell swears he'll do to me if I get detention before tryouts."

Remus looked up as they walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. "He seems a bit overly obsessed with getting you on the team."

"That's 'cause he saw Jamsie fly when the four of us crashed tryouts last year," Sirius said proudly, reaching to tweak his friend's cheek.

James shied away, ducking behind Peter as he walked backwards into the classroom. "Cripes, Black, just 'cause my mum calls me that doesn't-"

He caught the widening of Black's dark eyes and his friend's sudden stop a moment too late. James felt a sudden impact from behind and frantically reached his hands behind him to find he'd hit something quite solid. Slowly craning his neck, he looked behind him.

He had bumped into what appeared to be, from its proportions, an exceptionally tall dwarf. An man with a beaky nose and beady eyes stared down at him, one meaty arm extending towards him to brush him back with a blackthorn cane. An arcing, tremendous scar that seemed to have been made by very close together powerful claws extended from eyebrow to chin in a curve around his face. A stretch of bright red healed skin covered the corner of his left eye, making the side of his eye appear square. The scar cut through the left side of his lips, so when he smiled at them, it was a gruesome sight that stretched to reveal more of the inside of his mouth than he really wanted to see. A thin shock of white hair stood up on his head, as untidy as James' and sideburns carried down all the way to his chin, where they met in a small spurt of hair just underneath. His eyes lingered on Lupin, still reading his book.

Sirius cussed loudly.

The man's gaze shifted sharply to him. "I will take that as a sign of surprise at recognition and refrain from taking points from," his eyes sidled to the Gryffindor crest on Sirius' robes, "your House. Now, Sirius Black, if you," his eyes dropped to meet James' hazel eyes, which were examining the scar curiously, "Jamsie, and your other-" his gaze traveled over Peter and Remus carelessly, "friends, would care to sit down, I'd like to begin."

Quickly, shooting him sidelong glances over his shoulder, Sirius yanked James and Remus by their collars and pulled them towards the back of the room after him, Peter toddling nervously after them.

"What is it?" James demanded as they sat, eyes flickering over to the new Professor. "Who is he? Has your father had him for dinner?"

He watched as his friend turned his eyes to Remus. "No, but he'd love to," Sirius said grimly. "Piece o' dragon dung if ever there was one...seen his picture a dozen times, my father's framed some of those articles...should've known his bleeding name..."he berated himself, swearing again, more quietly and more colorfully, before looking up with alarmed dark eyes. "Remus, for years that man's been working for the Committee- hell, he ran the committee..."

Potter bent closer, eyes locking on Black's. "What Committee?"

Remus' face had gone carefully blank.

"The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures," the dark-haired boy jabbered.

James choked, grabbing his seat and Vonn Donn looked at him sharply as the rest of the class filtered to their seats. "Silence... please," the professor said in what he believed to be a mild voice but which made the class sit straight and sit up.

The man flicked his wand and wrote his name in lines of flame, and drew out a scroll to call attendance. He paused after each, "Here, sir," to look each Gryffindor student in the eye with his own small, sharp eyes. Quietly, he repeated each name, slightly under his breath but loud enough to hear. Few met his gaze for long, especially Sirius, who utterly refused to let Vonn Donn's gaze get anywhere near his eyes, staring instead to a point above his head or to the left or right. Lily Evans stared at him rather brazenly, though she found it quite difficult to keep her green eyes from straying to his scar.

When the former Ministry official called, "Lupin, Remus," however, the boy raised his eyes from the book and met the teacher's gaze with eyebrows slightly raised, the picture of calm and cool. The man watched him longer than he had any other student, but nodding, snapped out "McKinnon, Marlene," and watched the girl practically slide under her desk in surprise.

Eventually, he finished his roll call and slipped into a lecture on the importance of Defense Against the Dark Arts and assigned an essay on a minor demon of their choice to be collected at the start of next class, "no ifs and or buts about it," he snarled, James' mouth lifting into an involuntary silly grin at his word choice.

They stumbled out towards lunch, James and Sirius breathing hard and staring at Lupin, who'd calmly opened a book. Peter staggered after them, looking positively petrified as he'd nearly knocked the professor's blackthorn walking stick out from under him as he trotted out the door.

"Well, trippity-trap and call me a river troll if that wasn't the bloody scariest class ever," James gulped, shaking his head. "Rem? You-"

"Personally, I find McGonagall in a temper far more frightening," he replied, shrugging his slight shoulders.

"Moony, you're not- you're not worried?" Sirius managed. "You haven't heard the stories about this bloke... Metternich, my father called him, he carries pure silver dust on him at all times... he's psy-ps-"

"Psychotic," Lily Evans' voice called from behind them.

"What is it with girls and eavesdropping?" James Potter exclaimed in exasperation and horror as he wondered how much she'd heard, turning around but changing his mind and turning back after recalling what happened the last time he walked backwards.

"Probably the same thing with boys and not listening," she retorted, waving at Remus as she walked past them, the chattering Laurie Jewkes and Alice Jones following in her wake.

"I was actually thinking of psychopathic," Sirius corrected with a relish.

Remus sighed and shook his head at his friends. "If Professor Dumbledore thinks the man's all right, then he's all right. I'm not concerned. Are we still eating lunch in the library?"

James' eyes, which were trailing after Lily, paused as they caught sight of a scowling greasy-haired boy clutching an Advanced Potions book. "Yup... just one minute..."

Sirius' head whipped around as his wand arm raised automatically.

"James! What about the note from the Quidditch captain?!" Peter said in a panic, tugging on his friend's sleeve.

He smirked, gesturing. "Do you see any teachers?" he replied, handing Peter his messenger bag full of books and quills and advancing forward. Sirius bounded after him after unloading his own supplies on the smaller boy, who staggered under the tremendous weight of his own bag and that of his friends.

Remus, shrugging, kept on walking but watched them out of the corner of his eye.

Snape turned and, seeing them coming, dropped his books to the ground with a clang, wand out a moment too late.

"Furnunculus!" Sirius shouted, waving his wand wildly, as James jabbed his wand directly forward and called "Tarantallegra!"

Snape's wand swept down and out, his black eyes glaring hatefully as he uttered a spell under his breath, sweeping his arm in a shielding motion.

The flash of light from James' wand rebounded and hit Sirius in the chest; the latter's spell went undeflected and struck the Slytherin boy dead on.

Beneath the curtain of his lank hair, Snape's face erupted with boils, one on the very end of his hooked nose. He made to lunge forward, wand extended again, but tripped over an older boy with thatched hair running through the corridor at top speed, screaming, "I DONT KNOW A BLOODY THING ABOUT THE HEADLESS HUNT!!"

Sirius, meanwhile, was staring with horror at his legs, which were moving of their own volition in a rapid and uncontrollable series of dance steps that were tapping him forward along the corridor. Tapping and jumping and spinning, he was being steered away from his friends and in the opposite direction of both the Great Hall and the kitchen, the locations of food.

James, his expression fighting between laughter and horror, turned back to Snape, but the boy, who'd picked up his books and was keeping his face ducked, had noticed what the other had nearly failed to. McGonagall stood at the end of the hall, lecturing Nearly Headless Nick and yelling over her shoulder at Podmore, who'd knocked over several first years in his haste to get away.

Any moment now, she'd notice Sirius, who, to all their dismay- especially his-, was dancing towards a staircase.

Remus, handing Peter his books and unknowingly sending the smaller boy staggering, darted after Sirius with James, still eyeing the departing Snape, a step behind him. Grabbing his arm, Remus attempted to tug him away, but to both of their dread, Sirius' legs began to spin him towards his friend in a dance move. Letting go before he ended up dancing with him, Remus watched with wide eyes as his friend spun towards James, who grabbed him by the shoulders.

McGonagall, spying them, stalked down the hall. "Ahem," she said loudly, halting nearby as James was jerked involuntarily around and Sirius wailed his apologies. "Potter! Black! Might I ask what in the wizarding world are you doing?"

"You might, you might!" James called back, trying to smile pleasantly despite the panic reflected behind his glasses.

"I don't suppose dancing in the corridors is against school rules, Professor?" Remus said smoothly, wincing as Peter, unable to see behind the load of bags and books, crashed into a suit of armor behind them.

James and Sirius, overhearing this, grabbed hands and attempted to pull off a semblance of some kind of jitterbug, which was aided by Sirius' twitching legs.

Students were beginning to gather around, laughing and pointing. Sirius waved at them but stopped when his feet began to pound in some sort of rapid-paced Irish jig. James, releasing one hand, stared at his friend's feet and had just about decided to give up when he spotted the fearful face of Alec Bell in the crowd. Sighing, he kept hold of his friend's one hand and fell in parallel with him, badly attempting to mimic him.

"And Black here happens to be an expert at the Irish reel?" McGonagall scoffed, her arms folded.

"I wouldn't say expert," he shouted back in a mock demure tone.

"Who hexed him, Pettigrew?" the teacher demanded, her eyes freezing the boy crouched to pick up his stuff and sending him stuttering in an attempt to say 'nobody'.

"Finite Incantatem," an unfamiliar voice hissed from the crowd, and Sirius suddenly jerked forward as his feet stopped jumping back and forth. He scuffled his feet back and forth, leaping up and down in an attempt to imitate the insanity that had just been erupting from his feet. James, meanwhile, was scanning the crowd in time to catch the salute from the fourth year Gryffindor with a face beginning to square off who McGonagall had been after moments before. He winked at Potter.

"Whew," said Sirius, slowing to a stop. "That's tuckered me out. Though I'd gladly dance with you, Min-" James elbowed him fiercely, "Professor," he finished quickly, looking at her hopefully.

She glared down at him. "To lunch, both of you. And no more making a spectacle of yourselves in the hallway."

"That's against the rules, Professor?" Remus wondered in bemusement.

"It is now," she muttered darkly, and stood tapping her foot and glaring until they fled and the crowd dispersed, finding it distinctly odd that in the pit of their stomachs, her gaze felt more frightening than that of the new Defense master.

* * *

"What do you think?" Remus asked Sirius, as they poured over books a few days later, classes just ended. Evans had nearly died of shock when she'd found them reading, and, commenting that the world must be coming to an end, had thankfully left.
"Of Evans? Well, frankly I think James is off his rocker, since even though, y'know, she isn't a Graphorn or anything, I reckon she's got some anger issues and an utter lack of a sense of humor... well, that's not quite true," he mused. "She'd probably find it quite amusing to watch house elves bind and gag James and I and chop us into itty bitty bits for a stew and see us float in there with all the carrots and meat and other stew-stuff..."

"...I meant of what you'd found."
"Oh," he said unhappily, slamming his current book with a clang. "Let me put it this way. I now know many, many things I did not know, including the proper way to clip a dragon's toenails and how to talk to trees, but I still have not a balmy clue how a fellow can go about turning into an animal."
"...Sirius, no one can talk to a tree."
His eyes narrowed as he held up the book and shook it. "Yes, they can!" he protested. "It said it right in a book I read, and there was a picture. You plant a tree without leaves in a new place, and you tie these black ropes to it, and talk into this strange device, and the tree talks back!"
Remus sighed and eyed the book's embossed title. "Sirius, where did you get this book?"
"Over there," he said, gesturing to another section of the library.
Remus sighed more heavily. "That's the Muggle Studies section. You're talking about a telephone. It's sort of the equivalent to making a fire- call, except you can't see the person's face and the person isn't actually present, the words are just being carried by electricity."
The boy's face was carefully blank beneath the sheen of his dark hair.
"Take Muggle Studies next year," Remus told him, and went back to his book.
"That's for duffers," Sirius scoffed. "Anyway, you got your book from the same section."
The other boy opened his mouth, thought better of it and closed it, then opened it again to explain in as gentle a tone as possible, as if talking down a dangerous beast. "James wanted me to look at the stories Muggles have about turning into animals- they have, surprisingly, a lot of them, but they're just make-believe. James thinks there may be a clue. James is having difficulty with the Transfiguration books. James believes it's all in the Restricted Section."
He stared at his friend as if he'd lost his mind. "Yes, thank you, I'm not simple. I can remember very well that Potter's first name is Jim," he said in a tone of great offense. When Remus failed to respond, Sirius, taking on a more serious tone, flipped his hair out of his face. "Anywho, we've tried that before," he said, waving his hand at the closed-off section. At Moony's confused expression, he added airily, "When we were figuring out your lunar difficulty. The books are magicked, they don't let you read them- they scream, or bite you, or disappear, or suck you into them, or burn out your eyes-"
"Right. Point is, we need permission," Remus sighed.
Considering the likelihood of obtaining this, Sirius began to laugh until Remus, unblinking, hit him with a book. Cutting off mid-laugh, Sirius leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, thinking ponderous thoughts.

"Weeeeeeeeeelllll," he offered, after a long moment of silence filled with Remus paging through a book. "Slughorn's no dum-dum and we're not exactly his favorite folk...McGonagall loves James in class and I'm the obvious teacher's pet," he drawled, eyes still closed, "but she's too sharp- and we're not covering Animagi in class until next year, as she stated so drolly when I asked yesterday... Obviously not Dumbledore. Hagrid, Pomfrey, and the Quidditch bird, whasshername-"

"Sykes."

"Yeah, they can't give permission. Pince never would and I don't even know or care about the new caretaker. Don't even want to think about Vonn Donn seeing as asking him would be tantamount to, oh I dunno, suicide. Sprout's... a possibility." Frowning, he crinkled his nose and asked, "Flitwick?"

Remus shook his head. "No." He blushed slightly. "Lily Evans was asking him after class about some Charms book and he actually became sharp with her. He thinks the Restricted Section should be locked up and that he should swallow the key."

"Okay..." Sirius muttered, trying and failing to picture the bent little man growing angry with his prize pupil. "Astronomy professor's whacked. That leaves us with teachers we don't know-" Sirius said rapidly.
But Remus had already thought it out. "What about Binns?"
His eyes snapped open. "Binns? He can't sign anything."
"Sure he can, you've seen ghosts walk around with books. Means they must have paper. Obviously we can't carry it, but betcha one of the ghosts would carry it up for us. Anyway.. I've got a plan."
Sirius grinned. "I love your plans. I've been bored... Don't make that face at me, I know I'm dangerous when I'm bored." He paused dramatically, eyes glinting. "I have a prank in mind."
"I'll need James for my plan, you can have Peter for the prank."
"Done," Sirius agreed sadly, used to setting up such things with his closest friend but knowing getting the book was far more important. "Though I'll need you all for the... execution," he said mysteriously, then remembered something. "Say, we need the name of a book for a permission slip, don't we? They're not gonna let us look around willy-nilly?"
Remus grinned back and showed him a list of references in the back of a book they'd put down hours ago at lunch, 'Walking on the Wild Side, the Account of an Animagi' by Proteaus Quinn.

Sirius stared uncomprehendingly. He and James had already been through the whole book. It had looked promising, but turned out to be a drivel filled piece telling the story of a Magizoologist who studied lions by becoming them and walking among them until his tragic death when an inappropriately timed sneeze accidentally restored him to his human form. There had been only one page on the actual change.

Remus, however, found the reference table in the back, ignored by his two friends, to prove far more useful, listing the ancient source books to the recent work.
His finger poked a book partway down the list. Innura Animus Magike. No publication date, no author, no further information whatsoever. This immediately gave Sirius a bad feeling, as that held true with a majority of the books in his father's library.
"That's what we need," said Remus, jabbing at it repeatedly.
"How do we know?" said Sirius uncertainly. "Look at all the other books-"
"That's the one."
"Yeah, but look at all the ones on Transfiguration-"
Remus' clear grey eyes met Sirius' dark brown ones. "Animagi is about Transfiguration, but it's more than that, too. Any wizard can transform himself into almost any animal they want. The problem is they'll have the mind of that animal, their instincts. Every kid has heard the story....."
His friend waved him off. "The fellow who liked transforming into the bear so much he became more bear than man and one day when he transfigured himself he killed his own kid. Heard it. Point?"
"Becoming an Animagi is different. You're still you. It's been theorized the form is your innermost self. You've heard of the 'animal inside'? What you become- that's-that's you," Remus said, flinching.
He noticed the flinch as he slammed his chair forward. "And how does this relate to being a werewolf?"
"Who knows what I would have been before the bite? But since then.... It wouldn't be possible for me to become an Animagi. Doesn't work for my... kind. I've already found the 'beast inside'," Remus said bitterly.
"Well, I think that's rubbish." Sirius jumped to his feet and turned to leave, but reluctantly, turned back. He wasn't any good with this feelings junk. James was much better at it. "Oh, Moony? Without the, ahem, problems, that come with being a werewolf, well, being a wolf.... Might have suited you, anyways," he said uncomfortably.

Remus gave him an unreadable look. "Thanks.... I think."
Sirius sort of shrugged, then headed to a different part of the library, where Peter Pettigrew was fetching multiple Transfiguration books for James, who was staring at the pages of about six books open in front of him with intent concentration. Sirius came up behind him, grabbing his shoulders.
"Yaargh!" James jumped, his glasses flying down his narrow nose. He straightened them as he looked behind him. "Oh, it's you."
"Your enthusiasm is appreciated, deeply," Sirius drawled. He looked at his friend's tired face. "James, you're killing yourself. We've been back at school- what, half a week?- and you've already got as many circles as Moony. Which is alarming."
"I have to make the Quidditch team and I need to find out how to become an Animagi to help Moon- now, look what you've got me doing- Remus, pull the perfect prank to top the Prewett brothers, not to mention worry about Vonn Donn sneaking into our dormitory to stick a stake in Moony's heart and then there's all the ridiculous early homework which is utterly demonic to give and I can't get detention because if I miss tryouts, there's no way McGonagall'd make an exception to let me on the team," James ranted without taking a breath in between.
Sirius blinked while James panted for air, then replied dismissively and casually, "You're as good as on, stop practicing- I'm not half as good as you and I'm not worried. Remus found the book, but it's in the Restricted Section and he needs your help to find it." His chest puffed out slightly as he continued, "I have the perfect prank- not that I'm saying it'll top those Ravenclaw yokels, but they only Vanish things into their pockets and blow stuff up...there is no comparison with our brilliance. You must have lost your favorite marble if you're concerned about homework, if you don't finish it in the five minutes before class, do the usual and say I ate it." He paused. "Besides, I think you underestimate how much Minerva wants the Quidditch Cup in her office instead of Filius'." Beaming at his disconcerted friend, he inquired sweetly, "Does that fix your life and mean you'll actually be able to sleep tonight?"
"No." James looked at him sulkily. "And don't do that, my mother does that and I don't like it."
"What, fix your life?"
"Make me feel like an idiot."
"I was shooting for numbskull, but idiot should do. Remus is near the shelf about Muggles. Now, where's Peter?"
James pointed, as he closed each book with a relishing slam and stacked them. He lifted them unsteadily and walked off, books entirely covering his face. Marlene McKinnon, recognizing him as she walked by with Callie Bell, peered after him with a disbelieving expression.
Peter was standing on a tipsy ladder, trying to fetch a specific book.
"Peter!" Sirius called.
Pettigrew nearly fell off. He managed, barely, to shimmy down the small ladder, having grabbed a book Sirius, now far taller, could have reached merely on his tip-toes.
"Prank," said Sirius, grinning. He cupped his hands about his mouth and bent his head down so that Peter would be able to hear. "Now, here's what I want you to do...."

* * *

In the Slytherin common room that night, Gaston Goyle sat alone, isolated from the other seventh years. He'd never expected to fail his last year and have to repeat it. In fact, so assured had he been that the last year was the easiest he'd never studied for his N.E.W.T.s. Funny thing, he'd never worked out what the letters stood for. And now, Lucius Malfoy and Lesley Crabbe were gone, and without Lucius to do the talking and Lesley to point out someone to beat up who'd picked on his name, he didn't quite know what to say to anyone. He sat, twiddling his large thumbs and thinking of the good old days.
"I say, knave! Verily do I challenge you to a proper duel!"
Goyle looked around, confused. Lucius had been in plenty of duels- he'd helped. But a duel himself... Who was fool enough to challenge him, anyways? He stood, his bulk rising as he looked around in bewilderment.
"Villainous slime of the earth! Do you not have a tongue with which to answer your better?"
Finally, Goyle located the source of the annoying sound, and gasped. The coiling snake which usually blinked or hissed from its portrait was thrashing as an enormously fat pony sitting upon its head. It was vainly attempting to bite a little man in armor, who was attempting to wave a large, clearly heavy sword.
"Yes, you! Large oaf! Answer me with the honor a gentle like myself is befitted!"
"That knight wasn't always there, was it?" Goyle said slowly.
There were younger students gathered around the elegant fireplace, seated in high-backed chairs. A girl with blue-black hair and hooded eyes answered as her dark eyes flicked upward. "No."
"Maiden of evil! Sorceress foul! I have entered the den of the serpents and am here to rid the earth of them!"
"Roddy?" said the girl to a skinny boy in her year.
He stopped flickering his gaze about the room and turned it to the girl. "What, Bella?"
"The little man's annoying me. Make him go away." She resumed reading a book she'd borrowed from that twip a year below her, Severus Snape. Still, for a twip, he knew a lot about the Dark Arts. And just recently she'd learned from about very interesting new opportunities opening up in the wizarding world. She had much to learn. She couldn't be bothered.
"Easily done," said Rodolphus. "I'll just tear the painti-"
"Without," she said sharply, "damaging the portrait of Naga. Salazar Slytherin's personal snake deserves far more respect- even in death."
"I don't think that's even possible," scoffed a boy with startling clean-cut dark good looks stretched sideways across his chair with his feet dangling over one of the arms.
"I demand the impossible, Evan," Bellatrix told Rosier with distaste. "And so do.... others."
"I'll try," Rabastan Lestrange, looking at her with admiration. She ignored him and returned to her book.
It wasn't long before many of the Slytherins had become involved. Bellatrix Black, even at thirteen, was a girl who most wanted to impress.
The sound of a raspberry being blown echoed through the Slytherin dormitory, reverberating in the cave-like place. And then, from out of nowhere, came sweeping in Peeves, cackling as he passed through the wall with tomatoes in hand. His intent was all too apparent.
"Where's the Bloody Baron?" one fellow demanded, wiping off a faceful of tomato. "He keeps him out of here, I thought!"
Macnair, a third year who'd developed a friendship with the ghost and had a faint fringe of hair above his lip, answered. "Playing cards. With the Fat Friar, the Gray Lady, and the Gryffindor ghost whose head falls off. The poltergeist must be taking advantage of their absences," he said sternly.
Peeves, laughing his head off, was banging all the metal shields that lined the walls, diving at people, and knocking over a black suit of armor in the corner. Then he took Bellatrix's book. She looked up, smiled dangerously, and drew her wand.
Rosier, lounging by the fireplace, sighed and slowly slid out of his chair. He grabbed a first year. "Get the caretaker," he insisted, and headed after the poltergeist.
"Catch himself a sna-ake, underneath the la-ake," Peeves chanted, the bolts sent by young wizards and witches passing right through him to hit their fellow Slytherins. The poltergeist squealed in delight. "Thems that shoot at Peevsie make a big mista-ake..." He blew another raspberry and stuck out his tongue before hitting Rabastan Lestrange right in his shocked face with a tomato. The big boy dove at the transparent pest and landed on top of Macnair.

"Where's Slughorn?" Rosier snapped, dodging a tomato.
In all the commotion, few noticed that long before Peeves' arrival, every faucet in Slytherin house had been turned as high as they could go by an invisible hand. Considering there was one bathroom in every dormitory, with a sink and shower/bath, and altogether fourteen dormitories, there would be an awful lot of water. Silencing Spells had been placed on the running water, but they had, against such a force, begun to fray- at exactly the moment of Peeves' arrival. It was early in the night- no one was in bed yet, or even up in their dormitories. If not in the common room, they were scattered throughout the school. All the doors were carefully closed, Sealing Charms (courtesy of Remus Lupin's excellence in that class) on the floor so water wouldn't seep through.

No one would know until too late, James thought gleefully as the foursome crept down the stairs covered by his Invisibility Cloak.
The stone wall of the dungeon slid open. "A poltergeist in the school!" the grimy caretaker repeated, his bulbous nose trembling as he stared at Peeves. "We'll have him out! Tell me, can poltergeists be eviscerated?" he asked gleefully. The first year, having let him in, and unknowingly let Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew out, stared at him in terror. "We'll find out, won't we, my sweet?" he said lovingly to Mrs. Norris, who twined about his legs and purred. He raised a broom stick. "We'll smash the little ghost to bits!"
Peeves saw him coming and did a somersault, staring at the caretaker between his legs. "Look! Look! It comes with a pet! Nice kitty....."

The next thing Filch knew, he was batting at the poltergeist and screaming as it clung to his kitten and zipped about the Slytherin dormitory
James burst into hysterics the moment the wall disguising the common room closed behind them, scaring a passing Ravenclaw prefect. Sirius had done all the planning and recruiting, but it was, as usual, a company job, all four of them crammed, barely fitting under the Invisibility Cloak.
"Sssh, sssh," Remus hustled them, trying not to laugh himself. "We've got to get back in time for an alibi, playing chess where everyone can see us after coming down from our room. Hurry, hurry!"

There was one final step to the operation.
To the horror of their fellow Gryffindor's, the four set about making sure everyone was up practically at the crack of dawn the next morning by making loud noises, banging about the common room.
"I'm going to kill them," burly fourth-year Harkiss bellowed, his dark circles still showing up on his smooth black skin. He was held back by Frank Longbottom and Robert Williamson. "They're dead, dead, dead, dead!"
"Can we just eat go breakfast?" Robert said wearily, his scarce freckles standing out against his translucent skin.
Shouts of "I won!" "NO, I did, that's checkmate!" "Queen to-" "Potter, Black - ONE more word and I'll skin you both alive!! I know the charm to do it!" "Oh, do shut up, Evans" still ringing in their ears, practically the entire Gryffindor house headed to breakfast earlier. Sirius had insured, by means of bribery and pleading with puppy-dog eyes, that the Prewetts and their friend Stebbins in Hufflepuff had the other two houses up early. And so it was that three of the great houses of Hogwarts, rubbing sleep out of their eyes, made worse from homework and late Astronomy classes, found themselves staring at the sight in the Great Hall. Tables pushed far back against the walls, the entire house of Slytherin, in sleeping bags of a remarkably bright orange conjured by Albus Dumbledore, asleep all alone.

At the laughter around them, several woke up, stretching out of their sleeping bags enough to reveal they were all in nightgowns- as Sirius knew all too well, the preferred sleeping garment of the ancient purebloods, and thus, of the Slytherins and their parents- including the boys.
As several of the sleeping boys leaped up, astounded, having attended to be long gone by the usual breakfasting hour, a Hufflepuff girl shrieked and fainted dead away.
"Must have been the sight of Snivellus in his dressing gown," Sirius smirked, waving a camera. "I reckon she couldn't stand it. Eat cheese, all!" He began snapping pictures, as Slytherins began to flee, Goyle tripping over the lace trimming on his.
"Sirius!" Bellatrix yelled viciously, red-faced as she clutched her sleeping bag to her, glaring at the young men who shot her curious looks. "I'll kill you!"
The dark-haired boy looked up at his name. "Possibly, Trixie, but not for this," Sirius said, and it was unclear whether or not he was joking. The camera flashed.
They were quickly hauled away, leaving the Slytherins to clear off, and the others to return for breakfast later. It was clear who was behind it- but there was no proof. At breakfast, Sirius and James beamed as they walked around the Great Hall, getting slapped on the back and congratulated, or alternately, cursed at and blamed for water-logged possessions. They didn't particularly care since pancakes had been served this morning. Filch was insistent on his theory that it was all the work of the poltergeist, who he'd made his personal nemesis. Peeves was delighted.

They were a bit worried about Slughorn's reaction to waterlogged possessions come Potions class, but by their schedule it wouldn't roll around for another couple days.

A booming, growling voice resounded from the corridor as several teachers headed for the High Table.
Vonn Donn, waving his blackthorn cane as he walked in limping, was shouting, face fire-engine red. "Wrongdoers must be persecuted!" ("I hope he means prosecuted," Gideon Prewett muttered loudly as he stopped pumping Potter's hand) "You're not going to follow up on this, Minerva? I believe it is one of your responsibilities as deputy headmistress-"

"I do not need you to remind me of what my responsibilities are," Professor McGonagall said coldly. "Mr. Filch is satisfied that Peeves is responsible for the entire incident, and Professor Dumbledore feels, as only minor property damage was done- most of it reversible- that this is a matter for the caretaker to handle and a matter of mild mischief on the part of a volatile spirit-"

"We all know this was an act of malice on the part of living mischief-makers," the man snarled, his scarred lip drawing back unattractively. "Filius!" he said, turning on Flitwick, who started in shock. "If it were your House-"

"I wish to remind you, Professor, that while Slytherin may be your old house you are not its Head," the Head of Gryffindor said frigidly. "You are making a public spectacle of yourself, Metternich, and," she added sternly, "I am afraid that is against school words."

Sulkily, Vonn Donn turned to Filius. "She's letting them off the hook, I'm telling you! She probably put them up to it!"

"I'm afraid I doubt, Metternich," Flitwick said in a squeaky but amiable manner, "that Minerva McGonagall has a pack of mad marauders at her beck and call."

The other man eyed the Transfiguration teacher and sniffed slightly. "Wouldn't put it past her," he grumbled.
"Well, I never," said Minerva, offended, but her stern face did twitch into a smile as Sirius passed, arm in arm with his pals, and they all saluted her. Flitwick pretended they weren't there, and set about reassuring Vonn Donn that the disciplinary system in the school was quite adequate.
"Marauders?" The word rolled off James' tongue. "Remus, what does that mean?" he asked his friend, who didn't hear.
"About that plan and Binns," Peter began curiously, as they sat down.
Lupin, unintentionally, brushed him off. "James and I have it under control," Remus told him.
Lily Evans walked by, slamming down her breakfast tray down on the table. "I think you're simply horrible," she stated, glaring with her deep green eyes.
"Bully for you," Sirius told her cheerfully.
Laurie Jewkes grabbed Evans by the arm as she seated herself. "Lily, did you hear? Professor Slughorn was rushed to St. Mungo's last night!"

Remus' head whipped around.

"What?" Lily said, eyes widening. Her wand was suddenly out and in hand. "What happened? Did he have a heart attack? Was it over what they did?" she practically growled, eyes flashing onto Remus, who nervously moved away.

Laurie paused in confusion. "Hearts can attack? No... Mundungus Fletcher found him, he's been taken to Dumbledore for an inquiry... of course he's claiming he should get a Special Service for the School for finding Slughorn before he might've died, but then there's the question of what he was doing in Slughorn's Potions cabinet at three o'clock in the morning..."

"Poor duffer," Sirius said uncaringly as he overheard the conversation, and moved his attention elsewhere.
Rosier, broom in hand, was heading out of the room with Snivellus and a few others, apparently to practice for their tryouts. The latter shot the four a sour look.
"Reckon we must have drenched his teddy bear," Sirius said mournfully.
"Does he actually have one?" wondered Peter. Sirius and James gave him concerned looks.
They seated themselves, as far from the girls as possible, but close enough for James to be able to shoot looks at the growingly more concerned Lily.
"Quidditch tryouts next week, James!" Alec Bell yelled out from the opposite end of the table where he was muttering to Ted Tonks. The latter was staring wistfully at the Ravenclaw table while twirling a spork and not listening to a word his younger captain was saying. "You better be there, and not serving detention!"

"Yes, yes, we get that already," Sirius said grumpily, because his friend was lost in thought.
"Why do you think there was no proof?" Remus said, quirking an eyebrow.
"We like taking credit," Sirius complained. "I want that record number of detentions. Right, James? ...James?"
"Marauders," James repeated, ignoring them all. "Marauders... hmmm..."