Summary:
The irrepressible marauders are back, reprising their roles respectively as the intrepid (and just possibly obsessive) stag, charismatic werewolf, soothsaying grim and do-gooder rat. Their mission: to prove once and for all that they really are from an alternate dimension and can manipulate the fabric of time…
Disclaimer:
When first you practice to deceive,
Remember what you may be forced to leave.
A stay in prison I am wont to make,
On Rowling's story I make no stake.
A/N: Non-slash
Diagonally Parked in a Parallel Universe.
The shrouded figure hovered low over the glass orb, the center of which was beginning to turn opaque. Blinking owlishly from behind a pair of stolen glasses, he began to speak in a solemn voice.
"Mars crosses paths with Venus tonight, an explosive end to the drama in you dorm I sense in the near future. Beware the white rabbit and the tunnel."
The figure leaned away from the traumatized Hufflepuff third-year, winking into the shadows and mouthing the words 'write that down.'
A gong sounded from the side of the room, and the figure suddenly stood, drawing its arms into the air and boomed. "THE END OF THE SLIME WAR IS COMING UPON YOU!"
The third-year shot out of her chair and ran whimpering for the door, where she was released by another hooded figure.
The first figure let out a barking laugh and removed his hood.
Deception had never really been Remus Lupin's predilection. For that matter, neither had divination, but it seemed he was now elbow deep in both woolly arts.
When Sirius had approached him about another moneymaking scheme, he'd assumed they would get caught after the first twenty minutes and he would be scot-free with a detention.
However, it seemed setting up a classroom and offering prophecies was a perfectly legal thing to do in Hogwarts, and Sirius had capitalized on the idea very quickly.
He was the mastermind behind the whole endeavor and so—at James' failure to involve Evans in the scheme—was the one dressed as the witch and selling his soul for a few sickles.
They'd been going strong for three weeks now, averaging over seven 'prophecies' per hour. Sirius had been trying to speed up the visionary process, but James had refused to relent on the ritual he had as doorkeeper, which took almost six minutes in itself after he asked several supposedly 'aura-refining' questions.
It took a good deal longer if the fool who walked in was an attractive girl.
"That's eight already Moony, we're running hot!" Sirius whooped in the middle of the room. The lights came on after the third-year left, showing the dingy storeroom and rickety table that formed their 'hallway of enlightenment.'
James stood blearily by the door. Sirius had taken to wearing his glasses during hours, so James was going cross-eyed as he swayed in a stupor.
Remus thought he was probably allergic to all the candles that Sirius had stolen from the Divination room.
"Is Pete back with that air freshener yet? I already used four cans today but I can't seem to get that stupid cat smell out of anything…" Sirius had his hands on his hips, and was glaring at the boxes which also shared in the journey of the 'room of illumination.'
Come to think of it, Remus was beginning to feel a little woozy himself.
Pete came running in, precariously balancing seven cans of muggle air sanitizer and a box of chocolate donuts.
Remus sighed in delight. "I always knew you were a god," he muttered, diving for the box before Sirius caught sight of it.
"One of those house-elfs offered them to me when I was looking for Sirius' scent stuff," he replied.
"Down to the depths of the sensory world I send you, you foul olfactory scent! I bequeath thee the name of death and hope your passing to the next world goes unhindered!" Sirius had thrown his shawls on the ground and was fumigating the back of the room with a can of aerosol in each hand. Remus thanked the heavens they all had owls instead of cats.
He was almost through the second batch of cans when James finally collapsed on the floor, fingers clawing pathetically at his swollen throat. Remus decided it was probably time to get him out of the room.
He and Pete each grabbed a foot and drug James out of the room, listening to Sirius scream murder to the entire feline race, oblivious to the throes of his best friend behind him.
As the door slammed shut, he resolved to send someone back for Sirius' body at some point.
"...then the werelings made me their chief, and they prepared a huge feast—in fact, they even named the day after me. Did I mention I saved them from the snorlack?"
Remus nodded absently, watching as Madame Pompfrey prodded at a very dead-looking James. Peter sat reading a piece of paper handed to him by the absent-looking boy across from him. He seemed very confused as to why the boy insisted he read the article upside down.
Well, he certainly could have done worse, as Remus was finding out while he listened to Lockhart wax insane.
Madame Pompfrey was banging against James' chest, looking very agitated. Remus sighed and settled in on the bench, pulling a corner of his robe to cover the chocolate stains on his knee. Or maybe it was dirt.
"Hey Re, do you think we should go back for Sirius?" Peter had edged as far away from the strange Ravenclaw as possible and was looking desperate for some means of escape.
"If you feel like dragging him back here, I guess," Remus shrugged. "I don't think that toxic spray bothers him at all, though."
Peter nodded in acquiescence but got up anyway, ambling out of the room as he said "just to be sure."
The gray was an enormous relief after a few millennia's worth of black. He had a sudden vision of the dancing lollies that were waiting ruthlessly for him on the other side of the grayness, and he decided that asking the girl to sail the gondola back to the black might be a good idea.
A great wave swamped the gondola, and the girl jumped off and turned into a tuna and swam away, leaving him knee-deep in soda pop and hoping the great bird swooping down upon him would be gentle.
As it was, the blazing power of the star Sol, or else—as he was beginning to think—the dull lighting of the hospital wing, swatted angrily at his previously calm visage, and he was forced to open his eyes to the forsaken sight of Sirius leaning over him, looking petulant.
"So, you're the seagull," he sighed.
His glasses were handed to him and he sat up, groaning as his back clicked into place.
He blinked as Remus kicked Sirius in the shins; furthering the pathetic look Sirius was giving him.
"I'msorryItriedtokillyouwithcatsmellremovingstuff." Sirius muttered, glaring at the bare patch of carpet next to James' bed.
Remus rolled his eyes and collapsed on the bed across from James. "McGonagall shut down Soothsayers Anonymous, I'm afraid," he informed James, not looking the least bit apologetic. James considered his words.
"Madame Snuffles is gone forever," Sirius whispered sadly.
"It wasn't just because of me, was it?" James demanded.
Remus shook his head. "It's also got something to do with the thirty students who came to her last week, wanting to quit school and live the rest of their lives in exile. Or it could be that she's discovered who was responsible for the Snape escapade, but I doubt it—"
"The perfect prank," Sirius murmured reverently. "The Snape escapade was the perfect prank. We must reach for that standard of excellence in our next enterprise," he fixed them each with a careful stare, securing their allegiance and devotion to whatever the next enterprise would be.
Madame Pompfrey released James later that night, and he gamely went back to the common room, eager to see what sort of horrors Sirius had managed to release in his absence.
"No, I tell you, keeping it in here is not a good idea!" Remus and Sirius were having a stare down over a drawstring bag.
The bag, known as 'Sirius' Magic Bag of Mystical Magic Fun For Sirius Only So Bugger Off' or, more commonly, 'the bag' was lying on James' bed, which, he was sure, would do nothing for his health.
"Where am I suppose to put it then? It'll spell certain doom for all if it is found by the spies, I'm warning you—"
"Just shove it in the closet and be done with it," James growled, not in the mood to fight over 'the bag.'
Sirius' eyes widened and he stepped back, hand over his heart. "The mystical bag will not be treated that way, you unbeliever!" He shot out, voice ringing in the quiet din that was the sixth-year boys dorm room.
Remus groaned, mouthing something from behind Sirius. James caught the words 'needs sleep.'
Sirius was looking quite wild, eyes bloodshot from the incense. James waited patiently.
Sure as vampires drink blood, Sirius' eyes began to droop and he suddenly dropped the fight, burrowing into his bed with the mystical bag next to him and snoring quite abrasively.
Remus chuckled, and grinned merrily at James. "What would life be like without Sirius' inner clock, I wonder?"
Peter swallowed the lemon drop and grinned. "A good deal more flexible and less extravagant, I'm sure."
A/N: Shorter, perhaps, then I may have liked, but tell me what you think and I'll tell you who you are…er…or maybe I'll just think about the next chapter, eh?
