It Began With a Walrus
(Disclaimer: Anything you recognise from JK Rowling's work, I do not own.)
Hogwarts
January, 1978
"Okay Sirius. It's important you understand, that we are not angry at you." James Potter said calmly. Sirius Black, standing next to him, thumb and forefinger clamped to the bridge of his nose and his eyes squeezed shut, head hung, gave a half-hearted nod.
"I'm a bit angry with him." Remus Lupin interjected, who had now been shaking his head in disbelief for a very long time.
"No! We are not angry with him!" James said sternly, frowning at Remus. "But we have to ask, you understand don't you?"
"Yeah. Yeah I do." Sirius muttered, his words pained, in part because of his predicament, in part because of the vice-like hangover that gripped his brain.
"Ready?"
"Yes."
"How did the walrus," James began slowly, running a stunned hand through his unkempt black hair, "get in the dormitory?"
A small crowd had gathered, of several other Gryffindor boys of the fifth and sixth years, as well as the three seventh-year Marauders who were present, and two of the others that shared the room, Castor Holmes and Martin Marius.
The walrus, blinking and with the air of a sea-mammal faintly surprised, gave its strange, honking cry, as if to say 'Oh! Isn't this place pleasant. Better than the Arctic, I can tell you'.
At that point, Peter Pettigrew emerged from the attached bathroom, drying his hair with a towel and wearing another around his waist. He looked from the walrus to the gathered crowd, and sighed heavily.
"Oh, thank Merlin! You lot can see it too!" he exclaimed, his relief evident as he continued to carefully towelled his hair dry, not wishing to aggravate his own prodigious hangover. "I thought I was bloody hallucinating! I was terrified, you have no idea..." he trailed off as he went to his bed at the far end of the room and collapsed.
The rather massive walrus honked again and he cringed in pain, as did Sirius.
"Can someone shut it up?" Peter begged. Remus raised his wand.
"Silencio."
The walrus opened its yawning mouth to honk a third time, and though it gave it a brave effort, could not produce an audible noise. It seemed badly disappointed, and lowered its head to rest on the stone floor.
"We're waiting, Sirius." James looked at the walrus. It looked dolefully up at him. Sirius took a deep breath.
"I...I don't know, lads. I mean...it being the last day of the Christmas holidays, me and Pete both happened to get back a day early, met up rather than sat at home like. So, we got permission, flooed it, arrived here...and we got into the Firewhiskey."
"And how!" Peter chimed in.
"I remember we were playing exploding snap...then we sent strange messages off to everyone by owl-be expecting those, by the way, no idea what we wrote...and I don't remember after that, and next thing I know I woke up this morning and Bang! Walrus time. Then you guys all arrived..."
There was a short pause.
"Well what the fuck are we going to do with it?" Remus asked, angrily. "Oh, brilliant!" he held an exasperated palm out towards the animal, which had just started eating his bedclothes, the beds having been made by the Elves at some point.
"Maybe it could be a new mascot?" Sirius asked eagerly, looking for a way out and grasping at straws. He turned to look at Remus, desperation in his eyes. "Think about it, Moony!"
"Oh yeah Padfoot!" Moony said, mock-praise hanging thickly in his voice, "Great idea! Nothing says 'Gryffindor courage' like a giant friggin' walrus! We could put it in the common room! Or better yet," he continued with his sarcastic tirade, gesticulating wildly, "We could put it in the corridor in front of the Fat Lady – it could ask for the passwords!" he went silent, having shouted the last words.
There was a long, empty pause while people waited for Sirius's response. It seemed to drag on for entire minutes.
Then Sirius jabbed Remus in the face with his pointed finger.
"Ouch! What are you doing?" bellowed Remus.
"Well," Sirius said, jabbing again, this time getting him in the ear as Remus tried to dodge and fend him off, "I've got you this wound up," he jabbed again, "I may as well try and get you to kill me! That way this isn't my problem anymore!" he tried to jab him again, and Remus dodged back, knocking into a pair of fifth years who were laughing manically, laughter which began to spread like wildfire.
"Stop it Padfoot!" shouted James, holding him away, because Remus looked like he wanted to go for his wand and permanently stick Sirius's arms together or something. Remus took a deep breath, and held out steadying hands.
"Right. People. We have to shout McGonagall, she'll get shut of it no trouble." his tone was even and reasonable, and James knew he was back to normal, steady Remus. He was also bat-shit nuts if he thought James was going to call McGonagall. He pointed at his badge.
"Moony I'm Head Boy! We can't go to McGonagall, I'm supposed to keep order! I just about get away with minor pranks! If we call McGonagall then it's not going to be 'Oh, that's fine James! You've just got back from the Christmas Holidays, you aren't settled in. There's bound to be a walrus or two, no worries!'" he said, mimicking his Head of House's voice, "It's going to be 'Give the badge back, dickhead. Come on, give it.'"
Another pause.
"McGonagall probably won't call you a dickhead." said Castor Holmes, unhelpfully. James glared at him.
"That's not the poi-"
Remus took another deep, calming breath.
"Okay, Prongs, point taken, point taken. Okay, well presumably, a walrus cannot just appear out of nowhere. That means that someone must have spelled it here, meaning that while Sirius was black-out drunk, he probably Transfigured something." he looked around for anything that seemed to be missing. James's eyes lit up with the revelation.
"Of course, Moony!"
"Hey!" interrupted Peter. All eyes turned to look at him. He was looking blearily over at them.
"Why do you assume that it was Sirius who Transfigured it?" he looked offended. James and Remus looked at each other critically.
"Because, Wormtail, you still haven't got the turtle/teacup thing right, and its seventh year. And that's when you're sober." Remus reeled off. Wormtail stopped looking affronted instantly.
"Yeah, alright I suppose." he rolled over to look at the wall. James shook his head.
"Which means," Remus continued, "that if we can find Sirius's wand, we can check what the last spell was, find out how he did it, and thus, find out how to reverse it." he finished on a logical note, and James nodded and looked to Sirius.
"Right, Padfoot. Where's your wand?" James asked. Sirius went over to his bed, careful to avoid stepping on the walrus's flipper, and began to rummage around in the crumpled sheets, under his pillow, and then under his bed, until he produced it with a flourish. He passed it to Remus, who put touched the tip of his wand to Sirius's.
"Priori Incantatem." he intoned, and a faint smoky image of a bottle refilling materialised, before dissipating. Remus frowned.
"Ah." he sounded puzzled.
"Ah what?" James asked, feeling dread creep up in his stomach.
"The last spell your wand performed was a Refilling Charm, Sirius." Remus looked sideways at him.
"Oh yeah! I remember that one too, we only had half a bottle of Ogden's. Yeah, that was definitely pre-walrus." he murmured, looking bashfully at his friend.
"And there's no chance you could have Transfigured something into the walrus, and then decided you needed even more Firewhiskey?" Remus asked hopefully.
"Remus," Sirius replied, skeptically, "If I had consumed sufficient Firewhiskey to think that this," he gestured at the walrus, "Was a good plan, then I think I was probably too drink to consume more Firewhiskey, and look," he gestured at an empty bottle of Ogden's next to his bed, "none left over."
"Well then where the hell did it come from?" James groaned, looking pleadingly at Wormtail, who had turned back to them.
"Don't look at me, I don't even remember exploding snap." he said flatly.
There was a loud 'crack' and everybody jumped, while Sirius and Peter moaned in pain. A house-elf had appeared, clad in a potato-sack in which he had cut holes for his thin arms. He had broad, brown eyes, and big, pointy ears that were currently drooping. It had a hand clasped to its forehead.
"Excuse me, Masters! Wobbly is sorry he is so late! Wobbly wishes he had not had so many butterbeers last night!" it said in a squeaky voice.
"Oh yeah!" Sirius erupted, "Wobbly was here too, look!" he jabbed a finger at the tidy ranks of empty butterbeer bottles extending halfway along the back wall of the dormitory, two deep, with a third row half-started.
"How do you forget a drunk house-elf?" asked one of the fifth years, "No matter how drunk you get?" he found himself ignored however as one of the sixth years spoke over him.
"There's barely any alcohol in butterbeer, though!" the boy said, and found himself under Wobbly's baleful gaze.
"'Tis enough for a house-elf, Master."
"And he put away about fifteen, it was pretty heroic for a house-elf!" Sirius laughed Some onlookers joined in.
Wobbly saluted, then went to start picking up his butterbeer bottles.
"Wobbly?" Remus asked, and the elf stopped, shaking his aching head to clear it, as though trying to make enough room in there for Remus's words.
"Yes Master Remus?"
"Do you have any idea where the walrus came from?"
The elf looked at the walrus as though only just noticing it.
"Yes, of course. Master Sirius and Master Peter asked for it."
They looked at the elf, stunned.
"And you just...got one for them?" James asked, amazed.
"Why did you listen to us?" Sirius asked, even more incredulous.
The elf considered his words.
"The Masters were very insistent." he answered.
"Oh, Wobbly!" Sirius exclaimed, "We're always insistent! But we can't be trusted!"
James couldn't believe his ears. How was nobody asking where the hell the house-elf had gotten a walrus?
"Wobbly!" he interrupted, "Where did you get it from? Do you just have these things lying around the kitchens or something?"
The elf looked at him, shaking his head and sighing as though frustrated.
"Master James knows, how when he comes down to the kitchens, we house-elves seem to be able to get you anything you ask for?" he looked at Prongs expectantly.
"Yeah?" he said, feeling stupid under the elf's scrutiny. Wobbly forged on, as though he was explaining to a fool.
"Well, Master James, that is not a clever trick we's worked out – Wobbly is not completely sure how he found the walrus. Wobbly just knows it took ten elves to float the walrus up here." he continued picking up empty butterbeer bottles. The crowd burst once again into laughter as the elf finished.
"Sometimes I hate that we know the one sarcastic house-elf." James said flatly, as Sirius laughed at him, pointing.
"You just got roasted!" he was choking, and James shot him a glare. Remus attempted to cut through the noisy laughter.
"Wobbly," Remus called again, and Wobbly looked around once more, impatiently this time, and with an armful of bottles, "Can you take it away?"
Wobbly fixed him with the same pitying look he had given James.
"Oh yes, Master Remus! Of course Wobbly can! Wobbly will just clap his hands, and make the walrus disappear, shall he?" the elf allowed the bottles to clatter to the ground. He clapped his hands smartly, twice. The walrus looked around at him, and silent-honked again.
"Oh, no, Masters!" Wobbly said, looking at his hands with mock-surprise, "Wobbly's clapping must be broken!"
Sirius had collapsed onto his bed, howling with laughter, and the crowd laughed harder still.
"I'll take that as a no then, shall I?" Remus asked through gritted teeth.
"Well, you tell me Master Remus," the elf began again, and Remus face-palmed, "just off the top of Master Remus's head; where does you put a walrus in a castle, where no-ones will find it?" he paused, then leant against the wall when Remus didn't answer, just kept his face pressed into his palm, "Go ahead," he continued once he had leaned, "Wobbly can wait."
Sirius couldn't breathe, so great was his amusement, and was making strange, strangled sounds in his throat, his face turning red.
"Point. Taken. Wobbly." Remus said slowly, muffled by his hand.
Wobbly nodded, firmly, and then carried on tidying.
The crowd began to disperse back to their dormitories, their laughter dying as they made their way down the stairs. Even Sirius had composed himself, except for a few chuckles, by the time Wobbly disappeared with another loud crack and his first load of bottles. Tears of mirth still streamed down his cheeks.
"I...love...that...elf." he gasped, then, more evenly, "Wobbly is a bloody rockstar. He's awesome."
"Yeah, great." Remus said, unconvinced, shutting the dormitory door and leaning against it, his attention still on the problematic walrus.
"Well," James began, dropping onto his bed and leaning back on his elbows, "we'll just have to keep it here until we figure out what to do with it."
Remus looked resigned to this, and sighed.
There was a long, empty silence, which Peter shattered after a few minutes of careful consideration, during which he had been staring thoughtfully at the walrus. It still chomped at Remus's sheets, and Remus was fixated on its tusks.
"Where's it going to shit?" Peter asked the room.
James, Remus and Sirius looked at each-other in alarm.