A/N: Fair warning -- now featuring the return of contrary-for-the-hell-of-it!Sirius. I like to think I've grown a lot over my little fanfic hiatus, but contrary!Sirius just never grows old.

II - Magical Mischief Making: 1974

Four boys huddled on one of the canopied beds. They had the whole dormitory to themselves, but they were not without instincts in the realm of atmosphere and theatrics. They knew that no caper can properly be plotted without conspiratorial proximity, closed curtains, and darkness illuminated only by a single Lumos.

The first boy, who was holding the lit wand, was on a roll.

"Well, gentlemen, we know our places. We know our positions. We know our plays -- "

"This is not a Quidditch game," the second boy felt compelled to point out. "And you are not Captain."

The first boy frowned.

"There's no call for that sort of insubordination, Black."

"Aye, aye, captain," drawled the second boy. He knew full well he was being inconsistent. He was far too cool to care.

James smirked and resumed his thread. "What I must remind you, gentlemen, is that this plan -- well, it is more than a plan. It is a work of genius. It is a work of art."

"It's a work of artistic genius," said the third boy.

"Exactly!" said James, as Sirius snorted good-naturedly. "Thank you, Mr Pettigrew. My point precisely. This is a prank for the ages -- part of our mischief-making legacy. A prank for which we cannot be blamed!"

"I dunno," said Sirius, grinning. "I think they'll find a way."

"They cannot," said James solemnly. "Therein lies the brilliance. It is the prank from detention. We cannot be blamed. We will be scrubbing the Great Hall with our toothbrushes like good boys, repenting of our most recent sins and pretending we don't have the faintest idea what's going on."

"You two can't be blamed," Peter reminded them. "Remus and I don't have that alibi."

"Which you won't need," said James smoothly, "because you're not going to be caught."

"And all the professors know they can't perform that level of magic," said Sirius, with an insufferable tone of dismissal.

"Oh." James grinned. "That too."

"But if it bothers you," put in Sirius, "then let this be a lesson to you. Detentions are desirable prizes in the troublemaker's career. Go out, young friend, and earn many."

"But then come the Howlers," said Peter sadly, rubbing his nose.

Sirius snorted. "You want to talk to me about Howlers?"

"Sorry, Sirius..."

"Never mind." Sitting cross-legged, Sirius waved one hand as his chin rested a little mulishly on the other.

"Our secrets and our silence to the grave," said James, holding his wand aloft dramatically and extending his right hand. "Marauder's pact?"

Every voice chorused: "Marauder's pact!"

"Only next time," added Sirius, immediately following this heartwarming moment of solidarity and brotherhood, "I call the exciting leg of the operation. Lookout," he spat.

"Well, it would help next time if you weren't, in fact, in detention..."

"Shut it, Peter."

The fourth boy finally looked up from behind a large sheaf of parchment, which bore a hasty, makeshift map of the castle's northern corridors. "Do you have a plan for getting from the Great Hall to the Potions classroom and back in fifteen minutes?" he asked James, frowning.

"'Course I do," said James, waving a hand with unshakable confidence.

Remus looked sceptical in the flickering blue wandlight. "I said a plan, not winging it."

"Oh, keep your fur on, Moony!"

"Who needs a plan when you got an Invisibility Cloak?" asked Sirius casually.

Peter couldn't seem to resist. "You also don't need a plan when you're the lookout because you're officially stuck in detention. Right?"

Sirius glared at him. It was a dark glare. A glare of death. Honed by generations of Dark Wizards and their faithful interbreeding.

The pillow fight started exactly three seconds afterwards.

(There was only the briefest intermission when James's dropped wand started to light the bedcovers and the scribbled map on fire.)

--

10:29

They poked their heads out of the Charms classroom, each looking down the corridor in one direction, the other in the opposite; then they switched. Their eyes met and they nodded. With the long flaps of their black school robes clutched in their hands (as tightly as possible, to stop the china clattering), they set out. Tiptoe -- bated breath -- when, halfway down the corridor, nothing invisible had made its presence known, they simultaneously sagged in relief.

Never did two boys look guiltier over a bunch of teacups.

"They've got to be getting cracked," whispered Remus. "We should have thought to bring something to carry them all."

"How were we supposed to known Flitwick had his crates bewitched?" hissed Peter.

Remus, in between trying not to let any of his teacups drop and in avoiding a suit of armour in the shadows, mused for a moment on the strange phenomenon of the Charms professor protecting his class supplies with... charms.

"Actually, in retrospect, it was kind of obvious..."

"Shhhh!"

Remus hadn't heard anything, but Peter had a keen sense for danger, and he had long learned to never ignore it. They fell silent and still.

There was a popping sound.

It repeated.

Something about it was faintly familiar, but after a moment of expectant tension, Remus couldn't help but ask: "Shouldn't we be getting a move on?" Peter was still stockstill, looking like a small hunted animal hiding in a cubbyhole. "James?" Remus prodded. "Fifteen minutes? Potions classroom?"

"Oh, all right..." Peter's teeth were gritted even as he hunched to gather up all his teacups again. He was still anxious as he said: "I don't like it."

"Would you like to be the one to transfer the Breath of Life?" asked Remus, knowing full well that Peter did.

Peter's grubby face brightened, just a bit.

--

10:31

They were behind schedule. It took them two minutes to arrive at the torch Sirius had already enchanted -- third down from the corner at the far end of the Transfiguration corridor. Remus's least favourite thing about the entire plot was a lingering doubt that Professor McGonagall's quarters might be very near the scene of the first crime. Doubtless, the risk was why Sirius had chosen this spot.

His favourite thing about the plot, however, was the Breath of Life. The torch's flame looked no different from any of the others, but, as they approached in their guilty silence, they could hear a faint whisper-song emitting from the fire.

It was an incredibly cool piece of magic, and Remus was amazed that Sirius -- a mere third-year, like themselves -- could pull it off. (Remus had tried it himself, and had set his nightstand and Ancient Runes homework on fire, much to James and Sirius's amusement.)

"You do remember the transference incantation?" asked Remus anxiously, without thinking. He realised his mistake when he saw a sulky shadow cross Peter's face.

"Yes," he said. "Sirius made us repeat it a billion times, remember?"

"Sorry." As apology, Remus started levitating Peter's teacups, one by one, so that Peter's hands were free. Both dubious and eager, Peter started whispering the chant. Remus silently prayed that Peter didn't have one of his lapses of memory -- Sirius would never let them live it down. It was possible he would never let them live.

But Peter was flawless, and (miraculously) he did not stutter. "From the fire, from the air, come to dark, come to drear; illume, inflame, make wick, give mirth; don't let the water consume life, take to this poor earth!" As he whispered, he took the enchanted flame from the torch by way of his wand and brought it, very slowly and carefully, face full of wonder, to the suit of armor's visor. He twitched when the visor opened of its own accord, so sharply that both boys thought the flame might die; but it didn't, and it took.

"Enter the Slytherin common room," said Peter, very quickly and excitedly. He seemed to have forgotten that his suggestion of making it the Hufflepuff common room had been overturned (but only after some shared grins between the other three; Peter had always been absurdly proud of having been Sorted somewhere other than Hufflepuff, which he seemed to have dolefully regarded as his loserish, duffer fate for several years before Hogwarts). "Vanquish mortal water, and give life to the massy earth!"

Something in the suit of armor started to rattle. Peter held his breath. When the suit of armor raised its axe -- they had chosen this suit precisely because of its exceptionally intimidating axe -- Remus lost his concentration, and dropped one of the teacups with a crash.

"It's working!" said Peter happily, hastily bending to put the telltale shards in his pocket. "C'mon, let's get moving!"

--

10:36

They were jogging through the less-familiar shadows of the Hufflepuff corridors towards the Great Hall, Peter hissing most of the way.

"These shards are poking into my legs!" There was a petulant accusation in Peter's voice.

Remus was beginning to think the stupid teacups were more trouble than they were worth. He tried very hard to fix his mind on how much fun Charms would be the next day if only they pulled this off. "What time?" he asked briefly.

"I can't check my watch now," pointed out Peter, reasonably enough. He was using that arm to clutch the bit of his robes holding the teacups.

This was a terribly roundabout way to the Potions classroom, but they were not fool enough to follow in the wake of their animated suit of armour. "Oy!" whispered Peter, as Remus led them down a wrong turning. "That'll take us to the Hall Where the Nude Statues Congregate on Wednesdays. And since it is Wednesday, all the more reason not -- "

"Okay -- sorry, sorry -- " He chased after Peter, who was going down a broad corridor with the mosaic of a badger on the floor.

But that wasn't a badger.

It was Mrs Norris.

The two young Gryffindors skidded to a halt, stockstill and horrified. They stared at the cat. She stared back, with great unblinking yellow eyes.

Then she turned tail.

Remus was still doing an excellent send-up of a Petrification victim when Peter grabbed him by the arm. "Come on!" he hissed.

His feet followed Peter's tugging blindly. He could hear Mr Filch's wheezing progress to the exact spot where they had met his cat.

Peter made them double back, in the direction of the Hall Where the Nude Statues Congregate. He kicked at what seemed to Remus a perfectly random spot in the wall. There was a groaning sound that might have easily been a hungover portrait. Then Peter ran right through the wall. Remus followed. It was thin air.

"Oh, right," breathed Remus. He vaguely remembered them finding this during their explorations in this area their first year: it had been incredibly hot and humid then as well as now.

"Don't get comfortable! Filch knows this too!" Peter was fumbling and stumbling through the darkness, one hand out, feeling for the wall. Remus tried to keep close by, though at one point he hit his head on something metallic. Then he remembered that the pipes ran back here.

A breathless minute later, Peter had them at the first floor of the Astronomy Tower, where he led them up two flights of stairs and down another corridor. Another passageway transported them directly under the Owlery. It was a matter of minutes before they guessed the password for the gargoyle who guarded a handy trapdoor that would lead to a shuttling staircase.

"Give us a hint?" pleaded Peter, after several dozen wild attempts.

The gargoyle scratched his head. "We-ell," he said, "it's like kingfisher, only backwards."

"FISHER-KING!" shouted both boys, forgetting to whisper. The gargoyle jumped with theatrical annoyance and told the two cheeky little buggers to get on with it. They did.

They waited for an agonising two minutes before the staircase Vanished and Reappeared between the fourth and fifth floor of the Slytherin corridors. Then they scrambled off, Peter hissing that they only had fifteen seconds before it Vanished again. They jumped the last three steps in the nick of time. They held their breath. The staircase disappeared.

And there was quiet.

Breathless and sweaty though they might be, they had done it. There was no sign of Filch or Mrs Norris, who must be completely bewildered by now. Both boys broke into triumphant grins.

"Peter," said Remus, panting, "Peter, that was genius."

He snorted, trying not to appear overpleased. "Yeah, well, I don't think it's going to earn any points for Gryffindor..."

--

10:45

They made straight for the Potions dungeon, pausing only to dodge a pair of prefects on patrol. This process was aided by the unprofessional touchy-feeliness of the two sixth-years in question, but made the more difficult by the distant crashing and screaming from the dungeons, which masked any noises that might give them advance warning.

"I think Sir Diversion is doing his job nicely," Remus whispered.

"The Slytherins don't sound too happy," noted Peter. "Too bad we can't see Snape just now."

"Wonder why the prefects weren't going to find out what's wrong?"

Peter raised his eyebrows. "They seemed a little distracted..."

They both snickered uncomfortably, still darting forward to their goal, anxious that they would be late to meet James after their involved detour. Their arms ached from awkwardly pressing the teacups to themselves, there were stitches in their sides from all the running, and Remus was just thinking that all they needed now was to run into Peeves when Peter stopped dead.

"Do you hear that?"

It was the popping sound again. Remus checked his progress around the corner and joined Peter in flattening himself against the stone wall. Peeves had been blowing raspberries, which was always a bad job.

Peter's eyes screwed shut in desperate hope. Remus had had plans he liked better, however, and his searched the corridor in plain desperation. Peeves had to round that corner if he wanted to get to the Slytherin common room, and with all the madness and mayhem they could hear emanating from it, where else would the poltergeist be going?

Their luck held out: there was a door several yards away. Remus shamelessly elbowed Peter in the side of the head to get him to look sharp. They managed to silently slip the door shut behind them with a minimum of teacup breakage just as Peeves cackled by. Two pairs of shoulders sagged in relief.

"We're should have met James two minutes ago," said Peter dolefully, checking his watch as Remus used Repair Charms on the cups, "and I don't know where we are, I thought we were closer to the Potions classroom than this, but these windows, we're at the periphery -- facing north, I'm guessing... Remus?" He followed his friend's fixed, distracted gaze to the window. "Oh, come on, Remus -- this is no time to get all broody over the moon!"

"No, it isn't," said Remus, frowning a challenge at the heavily waxing orb peering through the window. "It's only a day after new. I think those windows are just illusions."

Peter watched with annoyed scepticism as Remus crossed the room. The windowsills were quite high, and he needed to use magic to open one. Ignoring Peter's comments about the time, Remus stood on tiptoe to peer at the ground outside. He turned round at Peter and grinned.

"New secret passage for you, Peter," he said cheerfully. "To the Potions storeroom."

Peter looked gobstobbed for a moment before breaking into an identical grin. "So we got a break, then? About time!"

--

10:49

Scrambling through the fake windows was easier contemplated than done.

In the past year, as if the relief of clearing the air and the acceptance of his friends had freed him physically as well as emotionally, Remus had got caught in a currently inconvenient growth spurt. Instead of being rather smaller than the others, he was temporarily the tallest of the Marauders, almost of the whole year, his limbs gangly and awkward and just everywhere. He thought he would have to break his leg off before landing in an undignified heap on the floor of the chilly storeroom. Having gone headfirst, he had another bruise to match the one he'd gotten among the boiler pipes. At least they had thought to Levitate the teacups ahead of them.

"Next time, we learn the enchantments ourselves." Gingerly he felt the bruise at his temple. He was used to worse, but though not particularly painful it was still annoying. "All clear, Peter."

And Peter, well... no one in the castle dared utter the word fatty anymore, since all those who had already dared had got the living daylights hexed out of them by James. With Remus's assistance, Peter was eventually tugged through the opening, which was beginning to seem less useful with each passing moment.

Grumpy and disoriented, Peter promptly stumbled into a cabinet, making the vials inside rattle. They heard the now-familiar sound of glass breaking. Remus opened the cabinet to inspect the damage before Peter dragged him away.

"Oh, forget it, James is waiting on us--"

But he wasn't. The Potions classroom was empty. It was completely dark and silent save for the glutinous bubbling of the sixth-years' Strengthening Solutions. Wondering aloud where James might be, and agreeing that James's nerves (unlike their own) would not have tempted him to leave instead of wait, the boys deposited their teacups on Professor Slughorn's desk, and Remus cast a Lighting Spell.

Immediately there was a whooshing sound. The boys jumped rather closer to each other, Remus hissing Nox and Peter dropping his wand.

"All right," said Remus in the total darkness, after the moment of fright had appeared to pass, "now we're just getting jumpy, we need to calm down -- "

Another noise -- a meow. Apropos of nothing, they immediately dived underneath Slughorn's desk.

--

10:52

As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, the two friends sometimes glanced at each other, reading the same thought in each other's eyes: Mrs Norris. As the heavy creaking continued, they tried to shrink.

They were in for it. They could only hope Filch showed up before James did, so that at least James would be spared the impending disciplinary blow.

Yet no one entered and there was no scrape of cat claws on the stone floor. Only their breathing broke the long, expectant silence. It was still quite dark. The moment stretched out very long before they heard the noise again, but this time they were ready to discern the rattle of wood on stone and shaking glass.

"Oh!" cried Remus all the sudden. "I get it -- Pete, that's a boggart!"

"Grea'," came Peter's muffled voice. "'oo' elbow's 'n mih mou'..."

"Oh, sorry..."

There followed the scrapping, pushing, kicking, wincing, and swearing of two third-years trying and failing to hide in under a desk in mutual comfort. The bangs from the storeroom continued all the while. Finally, Remus managed to crawl out, leaving Peter huddled and the clasp of his robes askew. "It must have hid in that cabinet when I cast Lumos... it was probably in there to begin with, got out when I opened it..."

"That racket will attract Mrs Norris for sure," Peter hissed, looking at little disoriented as he tried to get his jumper fully back over his head. "I wish James were here."

"Oh," said Remus vaguely, pulling on the shoe he'd had to kick off in order to get out. They had evaded so many other problems that evening that he couldn't find it in him to worry about this one. "Well, we can't leave. This is the meeting place..."

"So go banish it already!" Peter flapped his hand with agitated haste, watery eyes very wide.

"You're the one who's already faced one before," pointed out Remus.

"I never managed to make it change into what I wanted it to!"

"Here's your chance. I never even got to try, don't you remember?" Sirius had jumped ahead of him in line and James had caused a distraction by Conjuring a huge, foul-mouthed parrot right before Remus had faced the boggart during class. Evidently he hadn't concealed his agonized fears that everyone would realize the significance of his boggart as well as he thought: James had winked at him as Professor Dearborn docked points and later said, with fond exasperation, What part of "we've always got your back" do you still not get -- Moony? That sort of promise doesn't have a expiry date, you know...

Remembering episodes like that always made Remus feel unbelievably grateful, but just now it was tempered by the harassed question of call this having our backs tonight, James? Where ARE you? This sort of plan has an expiry date, you know!

Peter insisted that the boggart had to be got rid of then, before the noise attracted anyone, and that it wasn't going to be him who did it. Game but not at all certain that he knew what he was doing, Remus led the way to the storeroom. Peter hung far back at the threshold. "A light?" suggested Remus. The windows appeared to be one way, so the classroom was the only escape route. But the boggart would not try to go from a place of lesser to greater darkness.

Also, it would help to be able to see whatever-it-was... particularly if his guess was wrong, and he found himself attacked in karmic revenge for the animated suit of armour that was currently harassing his Slytherin classmates...

The responding Lumos was lightning quick, illuminating Peter's anxious, hasty face. (His poor nerves were the reason he was never paired with Sirius on these sorts of expeditions.) Peter's fragmented blue light made the storeroom seem like the inside of a walk-in aquarium as Remus approached the still-open supply cabinet. He had been right -- the rocking and banging ceased at once, and a miniature full moon materialized above them, weird and translucent in the rays of blue.

He eyed it with an air of grim deliberation. This was it. There was no one, friend or father, to step in for him now. He was powerless to stop the full moon from changing him into a crazed, slavering animal -- except for now. Right now he had the power to change it. It was with a thrill that he flung up his wand.

"Riddikulus!"

A loud CRACK made both the boys jump. The moon turned into a block of cheese and fell with a thunk to the floor. Dry crumbs scattered. The boys looked at it expectantly.

"It's still not gone!" said Peter shrilly, clinging to Remus's sleeve. "You have to make it funny, Remus!"

"Oh," said Remus, abashed, "right." He had forgotten that the key wasn't so much the shapeshifting as the whole laughter business. Unless he'd let loose a "HA!" of triumph (which wasn't really his sort of thing), just changing the boggart wasn't going to do much. He pointed again, frowning with thought. "Riddikulus!" It was back to the moon. "Riddikulus!" It fell as a cheese again. This time mice scurried out of nowhere and devoured it in a matter of seconds. They did not, however, disappear.

Peter snorted. It didn't have much effect on the boggart-mice. "Wow. Really inspired, Moony," he said, a once innocent and softspoken lad who had spent far too much time in the corrupting company of Messers. Potter and Black during the past three years.

"Well, I don't see you giving it a go." Remus went a little pink.

"Well, obviously," said Peter, over-hastily, "what I meant to say was, 'good work, Moony, keep at it'."

Both boys smirked good-naturedly at each other through the blue gloom.

"Oh, come on," wheedled Remus, "give it a try. That class was so hectic, hardly anyone could figure out how to get it. I'm sure you can now," he added, for good measure, as Peter still looked dubious.

"No way." Peter shook his head, the watery blue light crisscrossing his face. "I'm too stupid."

"You are not stupid!" said Remus earnestly. This was precisely why he had wanted to help Peter handle the boggart. Remus had instinctively realized long ago that if he were going to compare himself to James and Sirius he was simply setting himself up for disappointment, and anyway he was too busy being, by turns, apprehensive, grateful, and howlingly mad to care that he was not as brilliant as their friends. But poor Peter was always sensitive about it. And frankly, Sirius and various professors between them managed to rub Peter's nose in it rather a lot. It pained Remus, who adored all three of his friends, when Peter put himself down like that. "Who got us away from Filch just there? Do you realize, Peter, that you know your way around the passages of this school better than Filch? No one else has ever pulled one over on him! And you know James doesn't count," he put in, before Peter's mouth could quite finish forming the "J". "He has the Invisibility Cloak, it's practically cheating."

Peter smiled uncertainly. "I just like passageways. That doesn't mean I like boggarts," he added, watery eyes going wide as Remus made to step aside. "Hey! Stop!" He tugged hard on Remus's sleeve. "C'mon, Moony..."

"Okay, look. Let's plan it out beforehand." Remus already knew, from his two encounters, that figuring out what on earth to change the boggart into was the hardest part. "There's lots of things we can do with a Quintaped -- "

Peter suddenly found his fingernails fascinating as he cleared his throat. "I-I-I don't think th-that's what it's g-g-going to turn into f-for me now -- "

"Oh." Remus froze. "Well, what's it going to turn into for you this time?"

Peter went more than a little pink.

"I-I d-don't know."

"Really?" asked Remus sceptically. Peter was not meeting his eye. He had learned years ago what that meant. "Come on -- this goes easier and quicker with two. And it's not as if you don't know my fear. Trust me, it doesn't ever change."

Peter was shrinking from the doorway. "M-Maybe we better go check for James," he said, in a rather high voice. Remus refrained from rolling his eyes with difficulty as he crossed over to join Peter at the threshold.

"It's not like he wouldn't be able to see you from the doorway -- "

"Oy! Moony! That was unfair!"

Remus was honestly bewildered to turn around and find the boggart-moon rotating slowly as if to "face" Peter. He hadn't meant to step so far back that he had put Peter between himself and the boggart. But he was too curious to bother moving in time, despite Peter's whimper.

With a loud crack, the moon changed into Peter himself -- but Peter only for a second. Immediately his shape began to warp weirdly and shimmied as if it were being poured through an invisible hourglass. As he squeezed through the narrow part of the tube, he came out the lower bulb as --

A large-eared, fluffy rabbit.

Remus hadn't yet had time to react when the rabbit again whooshed into human-Peter again. Up and down the transformation went, so quickly, so absurdly --

"What on earth is that supposed to be?" he asked. It wasn't only that he was unable to stem his laughter. He was barely able to talk through it. Peter gave him a very dirty, very miserable look even as Peter-Rabbit began to shimmer and wobble violently, as if ready to explode.

"Just get rid of it," Peter mumbled, red to the tips of his own, very small ears, which were utterly unlike a rabbit's.

Shaking with suppressed laughter, Remus unsteadily stepped forward. Bizarrely, with a crack, the boggart changed, midway through another Peter/animal transformation, into -- what was it? -- a slug? Half a slug? The situation was getting weirder by the second. Remus gave up any thought of trying not to laugh, and the tiny blob of slimey mollusk exploded into hundreds of wisps of smoke. Even so, Peter was still glaring miserably at him.

"I was laughing at the slug, not your boggart," Remus wheezed hastily, playing the role of peacemaker as though he did it all the time, which in fact he did, "whatever that was supposed to be... "

"Don't." It was half a plead and half a mutter.

"Oh my God -- that's never your Animagus transformation?" Remus recovered a good deal of self-control at this thought, although a belated snicker still escaped him when he remembered the rabbit ears.

"It's not funny!" Peter shoved his lit wand into Remus's hand so as to free himself to fold his arms, looking distinctly sulky through the new cast of blue light. "I was a-afraid to tell the others but I didn't think you would laugh at me, Remus."

"I'm sorry," he said, still a bit breathless despite a pang of real guilt. "You're right, it's not funny. I shouldn't be laughing at someone else's fear." Yet his lip twitched when he remembered the swoopy, surreal quality of the boggart-transformation.

Peter glared. Or pouted. It was hard to tell with Peter. Remus was gearing up for some serious grovelling when they heard whistling.

The two boys stared at each other for half a second in horror. Then they made another dash through the threshold to the classroom and under Professor Slughorn's desk, Remus snuffing Peter's candle and not quite managing to get his feet hidden, this time 'round. "Shut up!" Peter hissed. Remus stood still and trusted to the deep new darkness.

Their hearts sank as the door opened. The whistling obscured the footfalls, but they were undoubtedly Slughorn's. No one else would be whistling. Whistling, indeed.

Remus had already braced himself for a detention involving extracurricular potions prep, a disappointed letter from his parents, and Slughorn butchering both his and Peter's names.

So it was something of a surprise to hear: "Oy! Peter? Remus?"

Peter squeaked, which seemed like an inappropriate reaction. James's legs appeared, thicker shadows in the darkness. "Is the boggart gone?" Peter whispered desperately.

"Yes," said Remus, in the most reassuring voice he could managed with half of his face squished against solid wood. There was a glint off of James's glasses that told them that he had crouched on his haunches to peer at them.

"Need a hand there?" he sniggered.

"Gah!" They collected several bruises before reemerging. Peter, restored to his wand, relit the dungeon. James, beaming the beam of Gryffindor Quidditch victory, offered Remus a hand to help him find the end of his legs and stand again.

"Congratulate me, gentlemen." James held his arms out wide. "I am a genius."

"Where on earth have you been?" demanded Remus, heart still pounding.

"I said, I am a genius. Make that genius of the world."

James threw out his chest, as it were. It might have been more impressive if his glasses weren't askew.

"What did you do?" asked Peter, the familiar hanging-on-his-every-word note in his voice.

"Went for a kitchen run?" guessed Remus, still rather grumpily. It was appalling to see Peter gaze at James with eager expectation when they themselves had become the first students in Hogwarts history to successfully escape Argus Filch without James's Cloak or even Sirius's uncanny gift for stealth. But evidently that story would have to wait.

"Ran into Professor McGlenaghan," said James proudly.

"And this mattered to you, O Invisible One, because...?" Remus prompted after a second passed in which James evidently expected them to surmise all the depth and breadth of his cunning.

"Well, I wasn't invisible after I took off the Cloak," James explained, a shade too patiently.

But no one could play the too-patient game with Remus and win. "Which you did why?" he asked levelly.

"She said I could take Muggle Studies next year!" James beamed. "I told her about all the independent reading I've been doing this year, and she says that I can take the final exam and continue in it next year, if I pass!"

"Wait. What independent reading?"

James waved a hand at Remus's words. "Well of course I haven't really."

Peter's face had fallen. He had wanted to sign up for Muggle Studies the year before, but had given it up when James showed no interest. "W-Why would you want to?" he asked, in a valiant attempt at an upbeat voice.

"Because," said James, "it's just the thing to impress Evans!" He waited half a beat, and, seeing that Remus looked unimpressed and Peter did not look quite impressed enough, went on. "I realised it just as McGlenaghan was passing, it's perfect! I mean, she's always going on about how I don't show any sensitivity, right? This is a way to show that I'm taking an interest in her background. Because she's Muggle-born," he explained, largely for Remus's benefit, as Peter had taking up nodding earnestly during the course of this elaboration.

"I see." Remus's response was toneless. James frowned at him.

"What, got any better ideas?"

"No. But I can promise you Sirius is going to think it's a stupid idea, and, let's face it, he's the only one of us who has ever asked a girl out. Successfully," he added, because James looked temporarily indignant.

"Sirius is just going to be jealous because he won't be able to take the class with me," said James, looking somber for the first time. "But he'll understand. I've got to try this."

Remus was reasonably sure that Sirius's "understanding" was going to involve a lot of ragging, but there were, in fact, more important issues at hand. "That suit of armour isn't going to distract Professor Flitwick for very long -- if you and your genius would enchant the teacups and get back to Sirius in the entrance hall?"

"I and my genius are on it," grinned James, evidently quite back to normal.

They watched his casual, sweeping charmwork wearily. The end of the night was in sight.

--

Charms the next day was fun.

The charmed teacups led to a total breakdown of decorum and decency, leaving the students free to shriek, point, laugh and talk while Professor Flitwick tried to restore order.

Unfortunately, Professor Flitwick had a reasonable idea of who might be behind it. James had deliberately run into him on his way back from the Slytherin common room the night before, pretending an innocent desire to go and see where he had gone. It was a good, quick-thinking cover, but, combined with today's fiasco of a class, Flitwick couldn't help but draw conclusions.

Though, as Peter noted cheerily, James's misstep had the side-effect of Flitwick not suspecting either himself or Remus at all.

"Way to take one for the team, there, Pettigrew," muttered Sirius. But he was in a good mood, laughter crossing his face as the tea set danced and clinked, hovering and self-pouring on top of each individual student's head.

"You know, Professor -- " Over the chaos of the class, Lily Evans was speaking loudly, and rather pointedly. " -- this would be a great time for a practical demonstration on how to undo Animation Charms!"

She evidently didn't appreciate the fine, sophisticated humour of her two teacups repeatedly boxing her ears. The real fun of it was the shrieking of the girls. The Marauders were at that particular age.

"This charmwork is quite advanced," said Flitwick, injecting some rue in his squeak. "The effects are timed to cease on their own after a certain period, and meanwhile can be mitigated but not countercharmed."

"Really, sir?" James was trying for casual interest. "When will you be teaching us how to do that?"

Flitwick gave him a reproachful glance as he cast a charm around some of the girls to repel the demented teacups. "At the N.E.W.T. level -- to those of you who are still around -- "

It was impossible for poor Flitwick to sound an ominous note with his high squeak of a voice, and the culprits were not remotely abashed. As Sirius said to James in an undertone, "He's trying to pull a McGonagall, but he just can't do it..."

"They can't all be Tabby," said James, with a sigh of mock regret. "Though it's a damn sight clever of all of them to try."

The four snickered as a unit as the teacups started tap-dancing in perfect choreography out the door, ready to unleash themselves upon the castle at large if only they could outrun Flitwick, who chuffed after them, throwing around some impressive but ultimately comical spellwork.

Under cover of everyone else's distraction, Peter tugged at Remus's fraying collar to make him incline his head.

"You're not going to tell James and Sirius, are you?" He looked up anxiously, a smudged ink blot (presumably from History of Magic) upon his pointed nose.

Late last night, as they stumbled into bed, Peter had explained his boggart. His block on acquiring a manifestation of his eventual Animagus form apparently stemmed from a deep-seated fear that he would be stuck being "something really stupid." Remus sympathised.

But as for promising complete confidence? Remus hated keeping secrets from the others. He also hated denying any of his friends' requests. So he did what he did best: stall.

"What do you mean by 'something really stupid', anyway?" he asked in an undertone.

Playing with his quill, Peter sighed and said, "You know. Something -- small, and silly. I mean, you saw James's manifestation, and Sirius, he's this huge dog -- I can tell my manifestation is something small. I'll look so stupid next to them."

"Peter, think what I am before you start wishing for something grand. I suppose I'll still top all three of you combined on the impressiveness scale. There's nothing wrong with a rabbit."

"Sirius will chase me."

"Rabbits are very fast, you could outrun him. It would drive him mad. Anyway, don't talk about it as though it's a sure thing, you don't know," said Remus earnestly.

"If it's not that it'll be something worse." Peter was determinedly gloomy. "Sirius will chase me... James will probably stomp on me..."

"Fast," Remus reminded him.

"Look, Remus, even you can't find any, you know, redeeming qualities in rabbits..."

Unfortunately, Remus couldn't think of any to prove him wrong. He stared unseeing at the classmates crowded at the door to watch Flitwick reign in the teacups, racking his brains. James and Sirius's dark heads were among the throng, delighted with the havoc their handiwork had wrought. "It was a rabbit Animagus who put an end to the Brigade of Witch Hunters," he said, in a last desperate attempt to salvage Peter's hopes and self-esteem before their friends came back.

Peter made a face. "Great."

"Yeah," said Remus, acknowledging that this wasn't exactly comforting.

"If you all start calling me 'Babbity,' I'll just go off myself and have done with it."

"Oh, I don't know... that might be appropriate retaliation for two years of 'Moony'..."

"But you don't mind that!" protested Peter.

The pandemonium ended, sparing Remus having to admit even to himself just how much he didn't mind the nickname that Sirius and James had tagged him with shortly after that wonderful day when they had confronted him and dismissed his fears in much the same way they dismissed things such as curfew, Professor McGonagall's lectures, and assignment deadlines. At that moment, Flitwick came back. The proper phrase was probably bloody but victorious. He was rumpled and his hat had been lost, but the offending teacups were in the crate he hugged, clinking in a rather subdued and penitent way. Sirius caught Remus's eye, rolling his own and mouthing Fun's over.

To no one's surprise, Flitwick let the class out early; even less surprisingly, he held James and Sirius back. The evidence was circumstantial but compelling. Remus figured they would talk themselves out of it, and that, even if they didn't -- well, detention was more or less their natural habitat anyway.

And anyway, he and Peter had a pre-arranged commission from them: to release the five teacups which should have hid from Flitwick behind the false tapestry...

--

Quotes for Chapter III ("Phoenix Lot"):

"Gran knows I forget things..." (PS/SS)

"Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered." (PoA)

"Harry sat stunned for a moment at the idea of someone having their soul sucked out through their mouth. But then he thought of Black.

'He deserves it,' he said suddenly.

'You think so?' said Lupin lightly." (PoA)

"Both Black and Lupin strode forward, seized Pettigrew's shoulders, and threw him backward onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them..." (PoA)

"Black and Lupin were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands." (PoA)

"They're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is." (GoF)

"You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing... the Ministry for Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere... panic... confusion... that's how it used to be." (GoF)

"Mad-Eye Moody was sitting there -- except that there was a noticeable difference in his appearance. He did not have his magical eye, but two normal ones... Harry looked around at him once more, and saw him indicating a large chunk out of his nose to Dumbledore." (GoF)

" 'I said -- shut -- UP!' roared the man, and with a stupendous effort he and Lupin managed to force the curtains closed again." (OotP)

"There are dangers involved of which you can have no idea, any of you... you weren't in the Order then, you don't understand, last time we were outnumbered twenty to one by the Death Eaters and they were picking us off one by one..." (OotP)

"Original Order of the Phoenix... Benjy Fenwick, he copped it too, we only ever found bits of him... Sturgis Podmore, blimey, he looks young..." (OotP)

"... he knew her round, friendly face very well, even though he had never met her, because she was the image of her son, Neville." (OotP)

"They ask for a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s and nothing under 'Exceeds Expectation' grade, I see. Then you would be required to undergo a stringent series of character and aptitude tests at the Auror office. It's a difficult career path, Potter; they only take the best... you'll need to demonstrate the ability to react well to pressure and so forth..." (OotP)

"[Inferi] are corpses... Dead bodies that have been bewitcehd to do a Dark Wizard's bidding. Inferi have not been seen for a long time, however, not since Voldemort was last powerful... like many creatures that dwell in cold and darkness, they fear light and warmth, which we shall therefore call to our aid should the need arise. Fire, Harry..." (HBP)

--

Need an idea for your review? You could always take a stab at what I'll do with those quotes for prompts...