It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time

Across from Remus sat Rodolphus Lestrange, a look of ennui plastered across his features. At times he showed a restrained interest in comforting Bellatrix, but not enough to break his forced facade; Bellatrix was sitting on Lestrange's right, in front of Sirius. Bellatrix and Sirius were glaring at each other with identical looks of vehemence. No one looking at them could possibly mistake them as anything but family, though I would never mention that to Sirius. Or Bellatrix, for that matter. Across from James sat Severus Snape, whose hair was not only greasy, but unusually tangled. Then again, it was three o'clock in the morning, less than a week after winter vacation had ended.

Finally, Evan Rosier occupied the chair across from me, also next to the door. And unlike the rest, Rosier's countenance correctly reflected the situation. The look upon his face was that of a person who has found himself in deep hippogriff shit.

I purposely met Rosier's eye and gave a deliberate nod that completely mystified him. That was okay; it did not have to have meaning. But I might need Rosier later, and he was the only one who would work. To Snape, I was James's friend, and Snape hated James almost as much as James hated Snape. To Bellatrix, I was Sirius's friend, which caused equal dislike for me. To Lestrange, I was someone-Bellatrix-didn't-like, which was all I needed to earn his animosity. But to Rosier, I would only be Peter Pettigrew, the-friend-of-the-guy-Snape-didn't-like. That notion sufficiently removed us from having to really hate each other. And as long as he forgave me for the hastily treated gashes that covered his body, it would work. Besides, it's not like I meant to put his buddy Wilkes in the hospital wing. I mean, how was I supposed to know that a Reductor Curse would do that if you used it on a living person?

Though I somehow doubted that McGonagall would quite see it that way. Anger had positively vibrated off of her when she had thrust us all in the room a few minutes earlier. Then she had left to put on something other than night clothes. But she would be back, and if I did not do something, we were going to be swimming in hippogriff excretions.

There was a sharp pain in my right leg as James kicked me. It hurt more than usual since that was the leg that I had fallen on when the Granian had tried to kick me. The books do not lie; Granians are fast. Still, there is no gain without a bit of pain.

I caught James's eye to show that I had received the message. He gave me a curt nod, and I bit my lip, thinking. Catching sight of Remus, I nodded and waited for James to follow my line of sight. Sliding my hand under the table, I grasped his. Manipulating his index finger, I pointed it directly at Sirius. In imitation of Remus, I then dropped my head.

James immediately caught on and dropped his head, as well. If it were anyone but James, the emotion portrayed would have been shame or regret. But James did not feel shame or regret. I mean, he was James. Demigod Quidditch players do not, under any circumstances, feel shame or regret. But if we wanted to get out of here, we had to be like Remus and appear shamed.

When Sirius - who was intently glaring at Bellatrix - did not follow right away, James kicked Sirius in the leg, and he caught on. James is one of the few people in the universe who could safely kick Sirius Black.

Snape snickered derisively when he took in James's actions and incorrectly interpreted them as shame and regret. I could tell that James's fingers were inching their way to his wand, so I grabbed his hand to prevent him.

"Later, Prongs," I murmured quietly, so only he could hear. His hand relaxed, though I could hear him gritting his teeth in frustration.

After a moment, the door was thrust open, and Professor McGonagall strode in furiously, now wearing robes as opposed to night clothes. To her, we must have looked awful. Our robes were torn, scorched, and tattered, while cuts, scrapes, and gashes covered our bodies. A close inspection would reveal the effects of hexes which had not yet worn off.

But the two sides of the table were no longer equal. Snape's side looked rebellious; James's appeared remorseful. It is easier to win at chess if you have a hand in setting up the board.

Now, there are those who will say that crying - particularly from a teenage male - is a sign of weakness. Let me tell you right now that they are dead wrong. Crying is a talent, perhaps even a gift. To some, it is an art form.

Many Hogwarts teachers are strict, and McGonagall is no exception. But few teachers are truly heartless, and McGonagall is a real softy deep down inside. No teacher likes to punish a teenager in tears, regardless of how strict he or she is.

While McGonagall began to rage at us, I started working my tear ducts. Mind you, it is not as simple as letting the tears out; there is skill involved. Too quickly, and the teacher will not have had time to get the lecture off their chest. Too slow, and the punishment will already have been delegated before the tears can take effect. Too little, and the teacher will not notice. Too much, and the teacher will send you out of the room and proceed to punish the rest.

So as McGonagall spewed, "What in the world were you thinking!?" I began to blink my eyes rapidly, willing the tears to come. Sniffling quietly, I began to work up my performance. I was ready a mere beat after McGonagall completed her sentence, but I sensed that was too early. So I held it and kept my head down. McGonagall needed to have her say first.

"I am surprised at you all," McGonagall continued. "You, Black and Lestrange, are seventh years." She turned her glare at Bellatrix and Lestrange. Bellatrix stared haughtily back, and Lestrange took the chance to slip his arm around Bellatrix's shoulder. In comfort, I suppose.

McGonagall rounded on our side. "You are smarter than this, Black. As are you, Potter. This ongoing feud with Snape is getting ridiculous. And you, Lupin-" Remus' head snapped up as he awaited the blow to fall "-are a prefect. I would expect you of all people would have exhibited more restraint than to get into an all-out battle on the top of the South Tower."

There was a slight wince in Remus' face that most would have missed. He was overjoyed the day he was made a prefect, and this would have been pure torture for him. It was time for me to play my role.

I turned up the volume of my snifflings so that they could no longer be ignored. Then I tilted my head up, prominently displaying the tears running down my face.

"I-I am sor-r-ry," I interrupted with a deliberate stammer. "It's all my-my fau-lt."

"What is this, Pettigrew?" McGonagall demanded, turning her attention on me.

"I challenged Snape and his friends to a wizard's duel," I explained, dropping the stammer so as to not impair my coherency. At the same time, I slowed my tears for the same reason.

"All of them?" McGonagall repeated incredulously. "Why would you do a foolish thing like that, boy?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," I answered, releasing just enough tears to prevent it from sounding sarcastic.

"And the Granians?" McGonagall pressed dubiously. "Several students claimed to have seen a herd of Granians on the roof of the South Tower."

"Granians?" I repeated, frowning. "That's a species of unicorn, right?"

"No, Pettigrew," McGonagall corrected wearily. "They are a species of winged horses."

"Oh," I said apologetically and then continued innocently. "What would Granians be doing on the roof of the South Tower?"

"That is the question," McGonagall replied, exasperated.

"I didn't see any Granians," I stated with forced simplicity. "There was just us. Oh, please don't punish James or Remus or Sirius! It wasn't their fault. They just came to help me." I let a few tears trickle down my cheek and gave McGonagall a pleading look.

She sighed, less angry now. "Why would you challenge five students, Pettigrew?" She gave Snape and his friends a nasty look.

"I-I thought it would impress James." I hung my head in shame. "And I challenged them separately, so they didn't know they outnumbered me. But I-I really am bad at dueling, so James had to rescue me."

James nodded, confirming my story. Then he draped his arm over my shoulder in an older brother way. His arm twitched slightly as he suppressed a laugh.

"Is this true?" McGonagall questioned, giving Snape and his friends a hard look. Before Snape could answer and ruin everything, I gave Rosier a swift kick under the table and caught his eye when McGonagall wasn't looking.

"Yes," Rosier said, a bit too loudly and quickly. "That's what happened." I winced, hoping that his inexperience would not blow it.

Snape, Lestrange, and Bellatrix nodded in agreement, causing McGonagall to sigh again. Checkmate.

"I want all of you to go back to your rooms and get some sleep before class tomorrow. And if something like this ever happens again, it will be detention for a week."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," I said as sincerely as possible. Then, before she could change her mind, all eight of us exited.

As soon as we rounded the corner, James burst out laughing. "That was great, Wormtail! Mind you, I got a bit worried at a few points. If I didn't know you, I wouldn't have known you were acting!"

"Any time, Prongs," I replied, grinning and flushing with pride.

"Pathetic," Sirius chimed in. "I've never seen anything so pathetic. Do you have no pride?" He was shaking his head in disgust, but there was a grin on his face.

"None at all!" James chortled. "Peter could out-talk the devil himself!"

"I didn't get detention," Remus muttered repeatedly, disbelievingly. Then a smile broke out on his face. "We didn't get detention." He let out a happy laugh.

"I'm hungry," Sirius interrupted.

"A feast appears to be in order, then," James agreed.

"To the kitchens," Remus chimed in. "But let's not get caught." This was followed by another laugh. James removed the cloak from under his robes and we all scrunched under it.

I suppose you are wondering at this point how all of this began. Well, let me tell you that it was Sirius Black's fault. If he had not come back from winter break with a pair of antlers, none of this would have happened...