Why Bother?

Disclaimer: If I owned this, I wouldn’t be sitting around writing repetitive, irrelevant fanfics for them, now, would I?

CHAPTER ONE – Simple Pages

    Remus Lupin’s keen amber eyes finally honed in on the title spine of the book he needed. “Ah,” he muttered. “’Dark Wizards of Modern Times’.” Though the book itself was hundreds of years old, Remus had no qualms to its accuracy – Madam Pince had informed him Dumbledore had placed a Neochronos Charm on that particular bookshelf, causing them to update their content once a year. The result was an unbelievably useful book – of impressive girth. Twice on his way to the Gryffindor dormitories Remus was sure he’d pulled a muscle.

    “Mr. Lupin? Do you need a hand with that?” Persephone Sullivan, his Potions professor, had just appeared from a side corridor. She looked at him concernedly.

    “No thanks, Professor. I think I’m all right,” Remus managed to say as he struggled with the gargantuan tome.

    He was just nearing the portrait of the Fat Lady when Sirius Black, looking disorganized yet charming with his disheveled black hair and baggy Gryffindor sweatshirt, emerged from the Portrait Hole. Sirius’s dark blue eyes went wide as they caught sight of Remus’s rather heavy load.

    “Whoa! Moony, what’s that you’ve got there?”

    “’Dark Wizards of Modern Times’. It’s for that Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment Birch gave us, due Tuesday – haven’t you started on that yet?” he asked, watching Sirius’s stance go from confidently mischievous to shifty and uncomfortable. Sirius clapped his left hand to his other wrist, glancing at an imaginary wristwatch.

    “Oh, look at the time! Must be off, Moony old chap. I’ve got – things – to do.”

    Remus shook his head. “You’re unbelievable, Sirius Black.”

    Sirius grinned demonically. “Yes – but you love me for it?”

    “Go on, Paddy. Chase some girls or something; or guys, whatever.” With that suggestion, Sirius scooted apologetically down a side corridor. Remus sighed and hefted his books up once more. “You couldn’t have offered to help, no. Of course not.” Stumbling to the Fat Lady’s portrait, he gave the password (“Golden Snidget”) and collapsed, groaning, into an overstuffed armchair seated conveniently near a couch containing James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. Like Remus, the two were Fifth Years, and (with Sirius) his best friends.

    James was speaking to Peter in an undertone, both bent over what appeared to be a scrap of worn parchment. “You need to use an Instant Scriptorium charm with these, Pete,” James was saying to the pink-cheeked blond boy next to him. “Muggle pens just don’t work, and quills aren’t – oh, hello, Remus.”

    “Hello James, Peter.” Remus acknowledged them both. “What’s that you’re working on?”

    James grinned. “Just a little something for Siri’s birthday. He thinks everyone’s forgotten, but we’re well aware he turns sixteen next week.”

    “I wasn’t,” Remus grumbled. “Why didn’t you remind me? What’d you get him, another Playwiz subscription?”

    “James just remembered yesterday. And no, it has nothing to do with magazines OR girls.”

    “That’s a first.”

    Peter brandished the parchment at Remus. “I found plans for this on Sirius’s night- table. It wasn’t complete and there were several flaws in the design, but James and I fixed it and finished it and – well, this is what we came up with.”

    Remus stared at the blank parchment. “So . . . what is it?”

    James smiled slyly. “Try it and see.” Interest piqued, Remus tapped his wand to the parchment. Nothing happened.

    “Say something,” Peter suggested.

    “Er . . . Moony here, feeling rather stupid.”

    Words blossomed on the page. “You ought to feel stupid. If you were the sharp blighter all the teachers make you out to be, you’d have figured out what this is by now.”

    Peter broke in quickly. “There’s still a few kinks to work out, but when we’re done, the Marauder’s Map will be fully functional.”

    Remus could hardly believe his ears. “The ‘Marauder’s Map’?”

    “A map of Hogwarts castle and the surrounding area. The name of each teacher and each student – when they’re outside their dormitories – appears on a small dot that specifies their location. It’s even got the secret passages we’ve found – ”

    “And a few we didn’t, much to Jamie’s surprise,” Peter added.

    James grinned. “Either this map’s got a mind of its own or Sirius isn’t telling us something.”

    “Probably both – it WAS Siri’s idea and all.” Picking himself up, Remus clutched at the heavy volume resting malevolently nearby. “Would love to chat, but I need to go work on an essay I’ve got for Birch. See you in a bit.”

    To his surprise, Sirius bounded into the Fifth Year boys’ dormitory about three minutes after Remus had settled in to write his essay. The sudden jostling of Remus’s bed made him look up sharply. Sirius had danced his way across the room and was currently bouncing enthusiastically on the aforementioned bed.

    “Stop it, Sirius. Can’t you see I’m working here?”

    “I’m afraid I’ve gone temporarily blind and can’t see a thing. Pity all who get in my way.” Sirius plopped, in a most maladroit fashion, onto the much-abused bed and grabbed “Dark Wizards of Modern Times”. “What’s this?” he asked, riffling through the ancient pages.

    “Give that back, I need it for my essay!” Remus snatched vainly for the text. Sirius grinned and flipped through once more, selecting a random passage to read aloud tauntingly as he was chased through the dormitory.

    “The true source of Lord Volde – You-Know-Who’s lineage was a mystery to most wizards until two years ago. His father – ha ha, Moony, can’t catch me! – was Tom Riddle, an ordinary British muggle, and his mother Venus Sullivan – no fair using your wand – is survived by her mother and older sister Persephone – eep!”

    “RICTUSEMPRA!” Remus bellowed, grasping at the book and finally wrenching it from Sirius’s shaking hands.

    “Not fair – can’t use your wand – ” Sirius managed to say as he laughed uncontrollably.

    “If I’m not mistaken, I just did.”

    Sirius flopped down onto Remus’s bed, stomach skyward. Remus let his eyes wander aimlessly over Sirius’s smooth pectoral muscles . . . flat abdominals . . . DAMN that workout Gryffindor captain Robbins put his beaters through . . .

    It took a second for him to realize Sirius had begun speaking again. “How long’s this essay again?”

    “Nine and a half inches.”

    Sirius snorted. “Evil git. He shows up practically EVERYBODY in class, then loads on the homework. I personally believe we could be doing better things with our time.”

    “Yeah? Such as . . . ?”

    Sirius righted himself, then gave Remus a flirty come-hither look. “I’m sure you know what I mean.”

    “Oh, sod off, you.” Remus sat down and pushed Sirius off the bed. He landed on the burgundy carpet with a rather ungainly thump. Sirius pouted, but Remus was firm. “Go on, Sirius.”

    Sirius lifted himself from the floor, looking disgruntled. “You’d have a lot more fun if you didn’t walk around with a pole stuck up your bum, Remmie.”

    “Pole? At least it’s not a broomstick like some of you Quidditch freaks,” replied Remus.

    “Alright, so Amos and James are a bit maniacal when it comes to sports. But it’s important!”

    The young werewolf scoffed. “Yeah, more important than your Transfiguration homework. I thought McGonagall’d died when you told her you didn’t have it because you’d been practicing for that Hufflepuff match.”

    “For once, Moony, you’re right.” Remus looked up in surprise; Sirius continued. “I should have told her it was for the Slytherin game . . . she’d have let me get away with it.”

    The scholarly Gryffindor looked to the ceiling for assistance. “Kill me now . . . please, kill me now . . .”

    Peter poked his head in through the doorway. “I say, Paddy, but someone’s here to see you . . . says her name’s Selena Walston . . . someone you know?”

    Sirius was completely nonplussed. “Selena . . . Selena . . . oh, Selena WALSTON. Yes, of course. Tell her I’ll be down in a minute.” On his way to the door, Sirius gave a comedic pause. “Don’t wait up, eh, chaps?”

    “Yeah, whatever,” Peter scoffed. He too made his way out the dormitory door, then thought better of it. “Hey, Moony? Did you want to help us with the . . . the you-know- what?”

    Remus shook his head. “Homework, Pete. Maybe later, okay?” The chubby Gryffindor nodded and continued on his way. After Peter’s exit, Remus allowed ‘Dark Wizards of Modern Times’ to fall open on the bed. Surprisingly enough, it revealed the same passage as before. Remus grinned to himself, wondering if there was some sort of hex placed on the next page. He began to sleepily read aloud.

“The true source of Lord Voldemort’s lineage was a mystery to most wizards until two years ago. His father was Tom Riddle, an ordinary British muggle, and his mother Venus Sullivan is survived by her mother and older sister Persephone.” Remus stopped in mid-yawn.

Persephone. Persephone Sullivan.

Professor Sullivan, Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

    Holy farglesnot. His Potions professor was Voldemort’s aunt.