Pranks, Full Moons, and Betrayals

Winter holidays, he thought. Finally. The hangings of his canopy bed seemed to smile down at him as he rolled out from beneath the warm blankets. The shock of bare feet on cold wood was only momentary, until he found his leather slippers with his groping feet.

"Prongs?" he whispered quietly over his best friend's bed, where the tousled head of black hair was the only visible part of the evenly breathing figure. "Are you awake?" Taking the silence to be an answer in the negative, he pounced, landing knees first on his friend's back.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Padfoot?" James asked groggily as he fumbled about for his glasses. "It's gotta be six in the morning..." Sirius rolled off, laughing.

"Actually," Remus corrected him, striding into the dormitory fully dressed, if a little ragged, "it's nearly noon. You've missed breakfast." Hearing the two boys groan, he pulled a large stack of toast out of his loose robe sleeve. "Would I have let you starve?" he asked with a grin. As Sirius and James consumed the toast, he looked down in amusement, offering jam from a small jar in his pocket. Despite the grin, however, there was no hiding the huge bags under his sparkling eyes, or the already aged look on the 15-year-old's face.

"Where's Wormtail?" mumbled James through a mouthful of toast. "I thought he'd still be here." He looked around at the four beds, searching for the small, snoring lump that would indicate the presence of Peter Pettigrew, but all were empty.

"He's in the library, practicing his transfiguration," Remus responded with a slight chuckle. "You may remember that McGonagall said that if he couldn't master the Switching spell by next term, he'd have to take remedial lessons."

"It's all very simple," Sirius said huffily, but James interrupted.

"I don't see you helping him, Padfoot. Unless you're willing to go down there now in your pajamas, I suggest you hand over that last piece of toast and stop complaining."

"All right, Wormy?" asked Remus as way as a greeting as he, Sirius, and James settled themselves down at the long oak table next to Peter. "How goes switching?"

Peter stared helplessly at his friends, and the others realized he had somehow transplanted his tongue onto his book bag. Sirius broke into loud guffaws, but Remus elbowed him.

Peter made a funny sort of rasping noise, and James, recognizing his request, flicked his wand. Instantaneously, Peter's tongue stopped flopping around on his bag and was back in his mouth. He began to talk, and swiftly spat something on the table.

"Sorry, Peter. Don't look at me!" James protested, falsely innocent, staring at the large bit of Cockroach Cluster Peter was showing him. "Why on earth would I conjure a piece of Cockroach Cluster into your mouth?" Peter, unable to think of as clever or witty a response as he knew the other three would have spat out, kept silent, brooding.

"Ah, the library! Haven't been in here all year," sighed Sirius loudly. Madame Pince shushed him loudly, and he threw her a dirty look. "I was averaging a whisper there. Silence, then loudness, then silence again! Stupid bi-"

Remus, casting his eyes first at Sirius then at the Prefect badge pinned to his own chest, cleared his throat, and nodded towards Peter, who was now pouring over Transfiguration for Beginners.

"Peter, don't take offense at this," James started kindly. Sirius snorted. "But maybe you should let us help you before you end up transporting someone to New South Wales while trying to switch your teapot's handle with your mouse's tail." He took Peter's wand hand in his own, and carefully traced the air, ending with a sharp flick. Excited, Peter imitated. The result was a very loud explosion, which merited a hawkish look from Madame Pince and a groan from James and Remus. Sirius, however, had moved down the great wall of books, and held a dusty volume in his hands.

"Get a load of this," he sniggered incredulously. "Brains, Bones, and Gum? Get over yourself!" He flipped it open, and his mouth fell into the same position.

"Alright, Padfoot?"

"Listen to this!" Sirius whispered in an excited undertone. "The Vederetu spell... let's you spy on anyone... any time... anywhere." He closed his eyes blissfully. "Imagine the possibilities!"

"Let me see that," said Remus disbelievingly, as James and Peter stood and tried to get a better look. He read aloud. "The Vederetu spell allows the user to enchant a mirror or other reflective surface to show whatever the enchanter asks it to." He looked at his friends sheepishly. "Now, as a Prefect, I have a feeling I shouldn't allow you to do this..."

"Lay off it, Moony. We're not going to do any harm! Just some dirt on Snivellus, and I'll be as happy as a hippogriff," chuckled Sirius. "And Prongsie, you can do a little after-hours spying on Miss Evans, and--"

James went furiously red behind his glasses, and ran a hand distractedly through his messy black hair. He muttered something about doing nothing of the sort, but was drowned out by Remus's rapid whispers.

"It says here it's just a simple charm--I bet one of us could even do it!"

"Not me," interjected Peter dejectedly.

"Well, probably not," agreed Remus hastily. "The initial charm involves armadillo bile, but we've all got that in our potions kit, and after that, all you've gotta do is say 'Vederetu Snape,' or whoever you want to look at." Almost before he had finished his sentence, Sirius had snatched the book from his hands, and run it up to Madame Pince's desk. The other three jogged after, leaving Peter's teapot and squeaking mouse forgotten.