Disclaimer: I. Do. Not. Own. Anything. Is that perfectly clear? And I
refuse to repeat myself all the way through this story, so you'll just have
to be satisfied with that sentence.
Chapter The First
"Well," said Sirius, standing back to look at his handiwork, "I think it's a work of art. You lot have no artistic taste."
"Sirius, my friend," and Remus clapped him on the shoulder, "if being unappreciative about you writing 'Snivellus is a git' in fluorescent six- foot-high letters on the toilet wall means I've no artistic taste, I must plead guilty."
"You have to admit, Remus, I did the job particularly well." Sirius eyed the glowing letters appreciatively. "That 'S' nicely resembles a serpent. Quite appropriate."
James took the blade of grass he'd been chewing out of his mouth and grinned. "You have flair, Padfoot. Definite flair. Like to be here when dear Snivellus sees it." He messed his hair with one hand. "Slimy git," said Sirius absently, still examining the paintwork cautiously.
"You're turning out to be an even bigger git, standing there staring at that thing like you're in love," commented Remus mildly, leaning against a wall. "Dear Severus would simply adore watching you being dragged off to the Head by your ear. Wash that stuff off."
"Right." Sirius began to scrape at his hands, which were a curious shade of pulsing yellow, in the sink. It was dark- past midnight, as they all well knew- but the paint let off an eerie iridescent glow which served quite nicely as a night-light. "Hey," said James suddenly.
"What?"
"I heard something. Footsteps."
Sirius looked up, head cocked quizzically. For a second the three stood motionless, listening to the faint but unmistakable click of shoes on stone. Remus stared at Sirius' hands, which were now a very pale but still pulsing yellow.
In an instant they were flat in the shadow behind the open door, holding their collective breaths, James with the blade of grass dangling stupidly from his mouth as he listened avidly. Remus's brow furrowed.
The footsteps came nearer and nearer, passed by the door- Sirius cringed- and stopped. Retreated, turned and looked inside. They could hear whatever it was, almost touch it as it stood looking at the painting.
"No," it whispered.
Remus glanced at Sirius, who was suppressing a grin. Danger always made him pleased with himself. James mouthed a word at him. "Snivellus."
"NO!" And the footsteps ran off, up the stairs. They could hear the ensuing cry echo around them, even behind the door, and knew that it would wake most of the castle.
"POTTER!"
"Oh, Gobstones," muttered Remus. In an instant they had flung the door aside, climbed out the window into the icy night and were swinging up the ivy towards Gryffindor Tower. The moon was still a full few days away from fullness- but still, Remus scrambled ahead of his colleagues vertically, exhilarated by the moonshine, the blood rushing to his head. Sirius chuckled softly.
Within a quiet, sweaty two minutes they were swinging silently in the window to their dormitory. James, who was last, looked longingly behind him before leaping inside, soft as a cat. He was a Quidditch player, and consequently had a magnificent head for heights- and he had always liked night. However, he put that longing aside, cursing that they had forgotten the Invisibility Cloak tonight of all nights, and pulled his nightshirt over his head. What was Snape doing wandering around the castle at night, the git?
He laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes, hearing already the realistically even breathing of Sirius and Remus beside him.
Not a moment too soon.
The door burst open with a loud splintering noise. All the dormitory occupants jumped and sat upright blearily, Sirius perhaps a little quicker than others. In the door stood a hook-nosed boy with incredibly greasy hair, glowering with intense hatred. Behind him stood a tired-looking teacher carrying a candelabra.
"YOU!" shouted Severus Snape, marching over to James, who blinked his eyes several times dazedly. "YOU DID IT!"
"What, Severus?" replied James, attempting to temper his innocent air with a touch of tired resignation, the kind a teacher has when explaining something for the fourteenth time in one lesson. "What did I do?" Remus yawned very convincingly behind him.
"YOU- you-" Snape seemed speechless with fury.
"What's this?" came a groggy voice from a few beds away. "What's he dreaming about now?" James stifled a laugh- Sirius was a magnificent actor. Snape ignored him. "You wrote that!" he hissed.
"What did I write, Severus?" sighed James in a long-suffering manner. He could sense the teacher behind Severus- she was a Charms teacher, but he couldn't remember her name- losing patience.
"'Snivellus is a git!'" snarled Severus, his face twisting. It looked almost supernatural in the half-light of the dim dormitory. There was another yawn beside him, but it wavered within an inch of a laugh. James had a struggle keeping his face straight.
"Did I? Where?" he asked, innocently.
"In the bathrooms- on the third floor-" Severus was going purple in the face. The teacher sniffed furiously several times in succession, sounding for all the world like an indignant tea-kettle.
"Snape, when you accuse your fellow students of damaging school property it is expected that you have proof. As these boys appear to have been in their beds-"
"Proof!" howled Snape, livid, hands clenched. The teacher looked incensed and drew herself up to her full height, small as it was. Snape, seeming to realise this was a mistake, let out a breath and added in a quieter voice, shaking with fury, "Check their clothes and their hands. There must be paint."
In an instant James thought of Sirirus' butter-yellow-glowing hands, and opened his mouth to speak. However, behind him there was a clear voice. 'Excellent idea!" said Sirius.
They had been through this drill before. Every boy slid out of his bed, some groaning, and stood beside it, staring forwards. The teacher gave them a cursory glance and looked at Snape with the kind of expression that made holes in metal.
"Surely glow-in-the-dark paint shows up at night, Snape," she said coldly. Snape made an explosive noise and loped towards the beds of Remus, Sirius and James, examining each of them furiously in turn. Remus returned his gaze extremely coldly, James with mature exasperation. Sirius could hear his wheezing through-the-nose breath as he approached his bed, head inclined forwards like an angry bull.
"Your hands, Black," he said quietly, facing him.
Sirius gave him a playful, if slightly dangerous smile, and held up his palms.
Both were clean.
Chapter The First
"Well," said Sirius, standing back to look at his handiwork, "I think it's a work of art. You lot have no artistic taste."
"Sirius, my friend," and Remus clapped him on the shoulder, "if being unappreciative about you writing 'Snivellus is a git' in fluorescent six- foot-high letters on the toilet wall means I've no artistic taste, I must plead guilty."
"You have to admit, Remus, I did the job particularly well." Sirius eyed the glowing letters appreciatively. "That 'S' nicely resembles a serpent. Quite appropriate."
James took the blade of grass he'd been chewing out of his mouth and grinned. "You have flair, Padfoot. Definite flair. Like to be here when dear Snivellus sees it." He messed his hair with one hand. "Slimy git," said Sirius absently, still examining the paintwork cautiously.
"You're turning out to be an even bigger git, standing there staring at that thing like you're in love," commented Remus mildly, leaning against a wall. "Dear Severus would simply adore watching you being dragged off to the Head by your ear. Wash that stuff off."
"Right." Sirius began to scrape at his hands, which were a curious shade of pulsing yellow, in the sink. It was dark- past midnight, as they all well knew- but the paint let off an eerie iridescent glow which served quite nicely as a night-light. "Hey," said James suddenly.
"What?"
"I heard something. Footsteps."
Sirius looked up, head cocked quizzically. For a second the three stood motionless, listening to the faint but unmistakable click of shoes on stone. Remus stared at Sirius' hands, which were now a very pale but still pulsing yellow.
In an instant they were flat in the shadow behind the open door, holding their collective breaths, James with the blade of grass dangling stupidly from his mouth as he listened avidly. Remus's brow furrowed.
The footsteps came nearer and nearer, passed by the door- Sirius cringed- and stopped. Retreated, turned and looked inside. They could hear whatever it was, almost touch it as it stood looking at the painting.
"No," it whispered.
Remus glanced at Sirius, who was suppressing a grin. Danger always made him pleased with himself. James mouthed a word at him. "Snivellus."
"NO!" And the footsteps ran off, up the stairs. They could hear the ensuing cry echo around them, even behind the door, and knew that it would wake most of the castle.
"POTTER!"
"Oh, Gobstones," muttered Remus. In an instant they had flung the door aside, climbed out the window into the icy night and were swinging up the ivy towards Gryffindor Tower. The moon was still a full few days away from fullness- but still, Remus scrambled ahead of his colleagues vertically, exhilarated by the moonshine, the blood rushing to his head. Sirius chuckled softly.
Within a quiet, sweaty two minutes they were swinging silently in the window to their dormitory. James, who was last, looked longingly behind him before leaping inside, soft as a cat. He was a Quidditch player, and consequently had a magnificent head for heights- and he had always liked night. However, he put that longing aside, cursing that they had forgotten the Invisibility Cloak tonight of all nights, and pulled his nightshirt over his head. What was Snape doing wandering around the castle at night, the git?
He laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes, hearing already the realistically even breathing of Sirius and Remus beside him.
Not a moment too soon.
The door burst open with a loud splintering noise. All the dormitory occupants jumped and sat upright blearily, Sirius perhaps a little quicker than others. In the door stood a hook-nosed boy with incredibly greasy hair, glowering with intense hatred. Behind him stood a tired-looking teacher carrying a candelabra.
"YOU!" shouted Severus Snape, marching over to James, who blinked his eyes several times dazedly. "YOU DID IT!"
"What, Severus?" replied James, attempting to temper his innocent air with a touch of tired resignation, the kind a teacher has when explaining something for the fourteenth time in one lesson. "What did I do?" Remus yawned very convincingly behind him.
"YOU- you-" Snape seemed speechless with fury.
"What's this?" came a groggy voice from a few beds away. "What's he dreaming about now?" James stifled a laugh- Sirius was a magnificent actor. Snape ignored him. "You wrote that!" he hissed.
"What did I write, Severus?" sighed James in a long-suffering manner. He could sense the teacher behind Severus- she was a Charms teacher, but he couldn't remember her name- losing patience.
"'Snivellus is a git!'" snarled Severus, his face twisting. It looked almost supernatural in the half-light of the dim dormitory. There was another yawn beside him, but it wavered within an inch of a laugh. James had a struggle keeping his face straight.
"Did I? Where?" he asked, innocently.
"In the bathrooms- on the third floor-" Severus was going purple in the face. The teacher sniffed furiously several times in succession, sounding for all the world like an indignant tea-kettle.
"Snape, when you accuse your fellow students of damaging school property it is expected that you have proof. As these boys appear to have been in their beds-"
"Proof!" howled Snape, livid, hands clenched. The teacher looked incensed and drew herself up to her full height, small as it was. Snape, seeming to realise this was a mistake, let out a breath and added in a quieter voice, shaking with fury, "Check their clothes and their hands. There must be paint."
In an instant James thought of Sirirus' butter-yellow-glowing hands, and opened his mouth to speak. However, behind him there was a clear voice. 'Excellent idea!" said Sirius.
They had been through this drill before. Every boy slid out of his bed, some groaning, and stood beside it, staring forwards. The teacher gave them a cursory glance and looked at Snape with the kind of expression that made holes in metal.
"Surely glow-in-the-dark paint shows up at night, Snape," she said coldly. Snape made an explosive noise and loped towards the beds of Remus, Sirius and James, examining each of them furiously in turn. Remus returned his gaze extremely coldly, James with mature exasperation. Sirius could hear his wheezing through-the-nose breath as he approached his bed, head inclined forwards like an angry bull.
"Your hands, Black," he said quietly, facing him.
Sirius gave him a playful, if slightly dangerous smile, and held up his palms.
Both were clean.