About Inconsistencies

Prologue

1975, Hogwarts

He winced as the portrait of Desmond Masbees slammed shut behind him. Carefully he dusted off the grime that had rubbed off on him from the secret passage, promising that, come time for spring cleaning, he would visit it with a mop and a bucket. He made sure the vial of liquefied queffren was unharmed. A lot depended on the transparent, blue liquid swirling inside.

He hurried down the corridor, the container clutched safely in his fist. The silence was enhanced by his muffled footsteps and he cursed as he almost tripped over the thick fabric that swished noiselessly in front of him. Invisibility Cloaks were bloody inconvenient when you were in a hurry.

He bounded down a staircase and reached the lower level right before the vacillating architecture took it upon itself to change direction. He raced past the bust of Madeleine the Maimed and skirted the statue of Dionysius that had somehow rendered itself in the middle of the hallway. He finally slid to a halt when he heard voices floating towards him.

"I did find the Salamander Pastries particularly tolerable this year. A Glucasion Charm you say?"

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Yes, Flitwick leaked it to the house-elves. They seem to have taken quite a liking to him after the mustard incident."

"It's perfectly understandable," Dumbledore replied. "And to be expected. Why the similarities in their stature alone should have prompted it. I also noted that if you add orange sherbet to the Pastries, in addition to the charm, they acquire quite a zesty tang. I highly recommend it."

"Do you know, Poppy said the same thing. I would have thought that the flavors would have clashed myself."

"Ah yes. But that, Minerva, is the beauty of food." Dumbledore chuckled, and James, pressed against the wall so there would be no chance of contact, could have sworn that the Headmaster looked straight at him, Invisibility Cloak and all. "It is completely unpredictable."

It briefly crossed James' mind, as the professors disappeared, that it was quite strange that teachers should be wandering the halls of Hogwarts so late at night- or so early in the morning, as the case may be- discussing deserts from the evening's Halloween feast. However, Hogwarts being Hogwarts, really nothing should have been out of place here.

James turned the corner, took off the cloak and, standing in front a Salvador-ian landscape, proclaimed, "Imogen and twat."

Nothing happened.

He frowned, wondering if the password had been changed. But Remus would have informed him if the Prefects had made another attempt to make the bathroom unavailable. Bunch of sodding good-two shoes, the lot of them. Save a certain werewolf. They should have realized by now that no doors were closed to the Marauders. He was about to realign the syntax when a decidedly feline figure with one leg crawled into the frame.

He yawned and stretched his paws. Then, seeing James, said "I say, not you again! And there are three blokes in there, already. And only one of them a Prefect. It does defeat the purpose of a private Prefect bathroom."

James glared. "Just let me in alright?"

"I'm afraid I didn't hear the password."

James sighed and repeated it.

The humanoid/cat grinned. "I'm sorry, didn't catch that."

"The other day I heard Filch saying something about putting the picture of Cerebus on this floor. I've about made up my mind that it's a good idea. I think it would go well with the other portraits, don't you?"

The cat sneered. "Like that crazed, Greek mutt would even be able to find his way out of the frame." Nonetheless the picture swung open.

Smiling, the wizard entered the lavish lavatory the Marauders had claimed as their Headquarters.

Sirius glanced up from the pitcher of Butterbeer in his hand. "Well you took your time Prongs. We could have made twenty Livingus Potions by now."

Remus, putting down his Transfiguration essay, replied "I doubt it, Sirius. The Potion has a week long settling period."

"Might as well get to it then," James answered, handing the vial over to Remus.

As the werewolf carefully measured out the liquid Sirius looked at James. "Didn't have too much trouble nicking it did you?"

"I made sure the cupboard was unlocked!" Peter interrupted defensively. He turned to James for confirmation. "Didn't I?"

"You did, Wormatail." James grinned at him. "It's just that all the portraits in the castle seem to get crabby in the wee hours."

"Well that's the whole point, isn't it? What fun would it be if they wanted to do what you asked?"

"It's finished," Remus said, interrupting Sirius. The three Marauders turned towards him. He grinned tiredly, "One week, and we should have a batch of living ink."

__________________o________________

Insomnia was insatiable.

It irked her to be beaten (though no one appreciated the flavor off a good defeat if not Lily Evans) and she had a mounting desire to fight the good fight and sneak back to the dormitories for a few more hours of sleep. But bloody insomnia had the upper hand and she would most likely end up staring at the ceiling again. Much better to sit in the Common Room.

Alone.

In the dark.

Bored.

She may have lost this battle but the war was far from over and she vowed to be the victor. It was inevitable, she reasoned. Either she would go to sleep or die from exhaustion. Death was a kind of sleeping.

She stared at the fire, and rested her head on the armrest.

Three more hours and it would be a reasonable hour to get dressed. She could immerse herself in Hogwarts' student population. She would join Alice for breakfast, tsk over whatever story the Daily Prophet had concocted to underplay Voldemort's activities, add or subtract House points from innocent bystanders depending on the mood she chose to mask her fatigue and exchange semi-friendly banter with school intellect of choice. It would be a good day.

In three more hours.

__________________o________________

AN. So if you realize this is a rewrite then you should also realize I gave up on the last one. I lost interest, I suppose, or hit a rut or something along the same lines but I'll be better with this one. Well. Anyway.