Brilliance

About one week passed before I remembered Snape. That is, I hadn't really forgotten him - that would have been quite a feat, if I really had, though, considering that firstly I saw him almost daily and secondly, you'd have to be blind to miss that nose - it's just that the reason for why I had been in such a good mood after we had left McGonagall's office had left my memory for this period of time.

Mind you, I had my arms and mind full with other things. One, of course, were the daily detentions under the careful supervision of our beloved caretaker; another was the attention that the weaving of a tangled web of lies requested. We couldn't very well tell anyone the real reason as to why Remus had lost conscience in the middle of a Herbology lesson now, could we?

Luckily, Peter overheard Anna McPhearson, who had been standing next to Remus during the test, prattling on about the species she had to describe. "Naturally, Professor Benzen gave me the most difficult plant, a Redleaved Sneebiscus...." As it happened, the Redleaved Sneebiscus was indeed a 'difficult' plant but not in the way that Anna meant it. No, this innocent little weed was the reason that about one fifth of the wizarding population had teary eyes and red noses each spring. Five percent of these had violent allergic reactions to it - a figure taken out of "Health Today", a magazine James' father sent his son regularly for not only did the Potter Junior use a vocabulary reminiscent of that of a doctor's but he also had a keen interest in all that medical stuff.

Anyroad, as soon as Peter had mentioned the plant and James had remembered the article it was a child's play: we just told everyone that asked that Remus was allergic to the Sneebiscus. We even had unwitting aide in this little deception. It came in the form of Darius Weasley, a seventh year who enjoyed being in the centre of attention just a bit too much. Dear Darius, it seemed, had this allergy and when Remus returned from the infirmary he gave a detailed description of his own usual reaction to the Sneebiscus to everyone in the common room, thus diverting attention from Remus.

The four of us came to the unspoken agreement that we would - in return - stop harassing the redhead in the future. Before that he had taken the brunt of our pranks (Darius was a very enticing victim, you have to know, very formal and rule-abiding but a good sport, if it came to jokes. If it hadn't been for his laziness he most certainly would have made Headboy).

So, these and other things taken care of, my mind was clear to remember Snape and I convinced the others that we absolutely had to find out what had happened to our favourite Slytherin. For one thing, this was just too good to let it pass, I mean a permanent discomfort for Snape (maybe it would even entail blackmail material!!). Secondly, that git had framed us. Revenge was obligatory and therefore it was time to call the next meeting of HUMM into order. HUMM, that's short for Hogwarts' United Mischief Makers: It was a club we had founded at the beginning of our second year, complete with rituals, secret signs, and even something that resembled a constitution. All of this was, of course, secret and thus we hadn't written all that stuff down, which didn't really matter since, as we had designed it we knew everything about it, anyhow.

We had these meetings regularly (and I can proudly say that I've never missed a single one) and so none of the others were surprised when one evening in the common room I proclaimed that I had a lust for Bertie Botts' (which was our code for announcing a meeting. To tell you the truth, the whole business of informing each other of a gathering by means of a code was rather pointless since we met the others in our dorm each evening, anyway. But in our opinion it added to the atmosphere and we kept that part).

So, one by one we left the common room and headed upstairs. As James and I settled down on our beds Remus performed an Anti-Eavesdropping Spell. Peter meanwhile dived into his trunk and retrieve a box of Bertie Botts' and several Chocolate Frogs. I've already told you that we had something like a constitution; well, article one said that we were a democracy; article two made clear that the decision of who headed each convention would be felled at the end of the precedent meeting. Most of the time we voted for our dear Pipsqueak. Oh, before I forget to mention it, the reason why he got out his sweets was that the chairman was responsible for the provisions.

Okay, so Remus and Peter joined us and Peter commenced the meeting by taking the roll-call. "Mischief Maker One?" (James)

"Present." James took the roll-call very serious.

"Mischief Maker Two?" (me)

"Physically, yes!"

Mischief Makers Three and Four - Remus and Peter respectively - were there, as well, of course, obviously. The chairman cleared his throat. I squirmed a bit wishing he'd hurry up.

"The Oaths." This was what took the longest but we wouldn't have wanted to omit, if for everything in the world. It was just too much fun and the best of ALL the rituals. Wish I could say I had discovered it but it had been Remus, the incarnation of a scholar - when he isn't indulging himself by playing illegal card games (like Poker) and stripping everyone of their last Knuts. I could tell that by the time we'd reach third year no one in Gryffindor (and possibly even in the other houses - the Ravenclaws were beginning to cotton on) would dare to play against him anymore. Well, except maybe me. My family's got money like hay, so I don't mind losing a bit. Especially since I plan to win them back when I'm as good as (or maybe better than) Remus. No one in school will know what hit them and till they get it I'll be a few Galleons richer... Hmm, Uncle Hephestos is starting to rub off on me, I think, that's definitely a very Slytherin idea. Well, nothing against a bit of ambition and cunning, I guess. As long as I refrain from getting slimy, ugly, and dumb, it's alright.

"I solemnly swear that making mischief is the topmost priority in my life and that I will not ever abandon a fellow marauder in need nor breathe a word of HUMM to anyone outside. Zeus, Hermes and Artemis shall attest to my faithfulness and punish me by dissolving my brain and letting another come by my broom." It's a funny thing what the old Hethites swore on. When they made contract they called upon their gods and goddesses as witnesses, said their part and finished the whole thing by adding that if they should fail to do what they said they would, that they brains should dissolve and drop onto the ground and another man should come by their wives and children. Peter's first reaction to that was "Gross!" and I actually agreed but the more we thought about it the better we liked it. It had something exotic, you know. We had to modify the part about the wife and children and instead list what was most precious to us. In James case, that was his broom, of course. Peter's most prized possession was his collection of Chocolate Frog Cards, Remus' was an argent pendant he had got from his grandma before he had been bitten (his mother had dipped it into a bottle of everlasting transparent nail-polish which coated the metal so he could were it still). Mine, was an authentic autograph from Hamish MacFarlan.

"... come by my collection of Chocolate Frog Cards." We stared expectantly and Peter who had just finished is Oath. He licked his lips nervously. "Er." I almost slapped my forehead. Honestly! He forgot that part everytime.

'Open the meeting,' Remus mouthed.

"Right," he flushed and grinned sheepishly. "Er, this meeting is hereby declared open?" It sounded more like a question than a statement but I wasn't going to fuss. I had something important to bring to their attention and Remus gave me the perfect cue. "So what is this all about, then?" I smirked. You know, it always greatly unsettles people when someone smirks instead of answering their questions, and I enjoyed baiting Remus - on a friendly basis, of course - since he was so calm all the time (something that helped him immensely while playing illegal card games - you didn't really know what pokerfaced meant till you saw him). Unfortunately, it was rather hard to get a rise out of Remus and I hadn't succeeded up to this point and didn't either on this occasion. Well, it was always worth trying.

I glanced left and right and leant forward conspiratorially. The others followed suit. "I'll just say one word -"

"Snape," James finished for me. I grinned happily and Remus rolled his eyes heavenward.

"Honestly, mate. You've got a one track mind."

I mock-pouted. "Fine, if you don't want to hear it..."

I left it hanging, waiting, and sure enough: "No, tell us!"

Good ol' Pipsqueak. You could always count on him.

"Okay, if you're sure." I stretched a bit and cracked my bones. Peter looked slightly pale in response. He couldn't stomach much. Once, in our first year, I showed him my trick of bending my thumb into the wrong direction, he actually fainted. Good thing, too, that he wasn't there during this episode in the hospital wing.

I had enough of stalling at this point. I mean, stalling was kinda gear, it got people to pay more attention to you, even quiver in anticipation from time to time, but you had to be careful, because if you waited too long they'd get bored or even snappy. Not wanting that to happen I launched into my - could you call it a story? I mean, it was actually just a few things I had picked up and a suggestion I wanted to propose - hmm, well, so I launched into my suggestion. I explained... that's it! I launched into my explanation of how I had seen McGonagall blush, of how this meant that whatever happened to Snape must have been very embarrassing and of how there was no way that we wouldn't exact revenge upon him for framing us. "The best way to do this," I concluded, "is by finding out what happened and what the effects are, and then to tell the whole school about it."

James looked thoroughly convinced, but then it never took much convincing with James when it came to mischief. Peter looked sceptic. "How do we find out?" I considered this for a moment. "By watching him, closely, I guess. See, if anything has changed about his behaviour, appearance or habits." That sounded like a plan. Pipsqueak was satisfied by this and Jamsie made an approving noise. We turned towards Remus, who, we discovered, wore a decidedly uncomfortable expression.

My face fell a bit then. I had thought it was a grand idea and voiced this objection. "That's not it," he replied and averted his eyes to gaze out of the window. I was confused. "Remus?" He shifted a bit and sighed.

"Are you positive McGonagall flushed because she was embarrassed?"

"Yes," I drew out. What was he getting at?

"And if it wasn't?" He stared square into my eyes now. I still didn't cotton on and it must have been evident on my face.

"What if it wasn't embarrassing but...something else." I had misinterpreted his expression earlier. He wasn't uncomfortable, he was angry. "You proclaim to tell the whole school about something that might..." He bit his lip and didn't finish that sentence. He didn't need to because I had finally got it.

"Don't be daft. If it was something like that we wouldn't tell anyone. Even if it is Snape we're talking about." James and Peter nodded solemnly in agreement and Remus deflated a bit.

In retrospect, I understood why he'd get uncomfortable and even angry. When we had confronted him about - no, when we had told him that we knew about his 'condition' (and there's this stupid word again) he confided to us that he had been and always would be very afraid that someone might just do what we had done (observed his habits and stuff) and tell everyone else. I can be a thick headed prick at times, though naturally, I wouldn't admit that to anyone. So, anyway, this obstacle taken care of, we nevertheless planned on how to best approach "Mission: Argus' eyes". Remus with his vast knowledge of mythology contributed the name, after being reassured by us that we'd make a distinction between embarrassing and dangerous for anyone to know.

Planning the mission wasn't really a challenge so the meeting was rather short - or would have been, if James hadn't raised another topic.