Disclaimer: Refer to chapter one.

"She's late," James Potter muttered lowly.

It was 8:02 Monday night in Professor McGonagall's office. The office didn't bare anything special; just dust covered books and an occasional kitty toy here and there took up the space within the room.

"McGonagall has a cat?" Peter asked quite dumbly.

"No genius she's an animagus," Sirius retorted harshly.

"Makes you wonder," Peter muttered.

"Honestly Peter, how many times have we been in this office?" Remus now added in. He turned to the round boy who became red in the face.

"I-I just never paid attention that's all," Peter spoke at a soft embarrassed whisper.

"It pays to pay attention Pet-,"

"Sirius," James hushed.

There was a clicking sound and the door pushed forward slowly showing the face of a baffled woman.

"Oh my..." McGonagall trailed off entering the room which had become silent. She closed her eyes as if in great pain and began reciting transfiguration notes from chapter thirty-two in her mind. She tried to forget the image of Sirius Black's seventh year glory.

"Mr. Black!" She roared opening her eyes and keeping a plain look about.

"Yes professor?" Sirius questioned, a grin spreading broadly across his face.

McGonagall tried to keep the flush in her cheeks under control but was nearly unsuccessful.

"Where are your clothes!?"

"Did you not say dress comfortably at the end of Advanced Transfiguration today, professor?" Sirius asked well-mannered.

The professor recalled her exact words. They were of course, and unfortunately, the words Sirius had uttered.

Sirius Black had an illustrious sensual memory whenever he wanted to. McGonagall had regarded this during the middle of their first year when the boys had their first confrontation in class.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Black! Did I not ask you courteously to stop whispering?" Professor McGonagall had just slammed down her book, something she did when she was angered, and looked towards the two young boys who sat with beaming faces.

"In actuality professor you did too inform us about our constant whispering," the young Sirius said quite loudly.

"But," the twelve year old James interrupted, "you said nothing about such murmuring, mumbling, muttering--,"

"Talking, hissing, chatting, babbling--,"

"Or chit-chatting," James added.
"Well honestly James, I prefer conversating," Sirius smiled widened.

"Sirius, it's conversing." James laughed his head now turned towards Sirius.

Their conversation had begun full-throttle all over again between the two of them as if class had been dismissed for the rest of the day, completely ignoring their professor's wishes.

Professor McGonagall huffed and continued with the lesson, but noting nonetheless, she had to be careful with what she said around those two.

Professor McGonagall looked again at the inappropriately dressed Sirius. She got a good look this time. He stood in the middle, his dark hair nearly touching his broadened naked shoulders. He stood there boldly in only a pair of nicely fitted black boxers. He also wore socks and house shoes which were fluffy and gold shimmering from the fireplace light.

He looked sexily ridiculous.

"You look ridiculous Mr. Black," McGonagall commented.

"Why thank you," Sirius bowed respectively.

Minerva then looked at the other boys. Remus was dressed properly in a button up pajama set and drawstring pajama pants and socks with simple navy colored house slippers. James stood tall and bare footed in his plain white t-shirt and paisley patterned maroon silk pajamas to bed, nevertheless detention.

Peter wore his cotton pajamas similar to Remus' but golden colored with matching gold socks.

McGonagall simply withheld her anger looking at the four boys prepared for their detention.

"You're late," James accused.

"Oh am I?" She questioned skeptically.

"Uh-um yes, you-you are." James stuttered watching that glare.

"And how late am I Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall asked.

"Uh, uh--Peter how long was it?" James asked elbowing Peter in the gut.

"Four minutes and twenty-two seconds, James," Peter nodded his head.

"Well then, I will take that into consideration next time you enter my class after the bell,"

"No need professor," James added hastily shaking his head wildly.

"Good then. On with detention; it is in the trophy room. I presume there is no need for me to accompany you since you are not a bunch of trouble makers in your first year," she said staring at each one of the boys.

"Troublemakers?" James asked innocently.

"What's that?" Sirius added in.

"I'm in seventh year," Peter said quietly, but sure of himself.

"I'll have to agree with you then Pete," Remus chuckled softly.

"I mean it boys!" McGonagall said raising her voice.

"Right-o!" James said a little too eager as he began to lead the way out of the professor's office but was soon stopped by a stern face blocking the doorway.

"Oh," she smiled frighteningly," you didn't think I'd let four of Hogwarts infamous pranksters out of my room for detention with their wands?" McGonagall held out her hand which was soon filled with four wands despite the reluctant faces of their owners.

With a hard pat on the back and a yelp from Sirius she smiled while waving to the boys.

"You may proceed. Or as Mr. Potter put it, 'right-o'." With that Professor crossed to her chair and watched the boys exit her room.

"You didn't think she'd actually forget Prongs?" Peter questioned as they walked down the deserted corridor.

"Shut it Wormtail. We only figured since it was the beginning of the year—"

"She'd not be on top of her game? C'mon Padfoot I know you're smarter than that!" Remus chimed in.

They finally came to the room they were so fond of. Thousands of bronze, gold and silver cups and plaques bearing the names of previous Hogwarts students typically shone brightly, glimmering from the dim lights but tonight they lay covered in dust, dirt and muck.

There in the middle of the stone floor sat four grubby metal buckets, three rags and a discolored bar of soap. A man hunched, waiting at the first case of awards cackled as all boys entered the room. His dark hair thinned prematurely and his smile was repulsive. Sirius once mentioned the man cleaned his teeth with the same brush after cleaning his cat's teeth during one of his prior all night detentions.

"You're here." He smiled, rubbing his gritty hands together.

"Better get started otherwise you'll be here all night. You've been here multiple times so I don't have to explain," the disgruntled man yelled.

The boys jumped a little; startled Filch's extreme ill-tempered mood this year.

"Guess he's aging," said Remus quietly.

"Aging? He did that years ago," Sirius retorted. The boys all laughed at Sirius joke but there was an echoing laughter.

James turned to see Filch with a wide grin on his face.

"Why's he laughing?" Peter asked steadily walking towards the buckets in the middle of the room.

"Wait—why are there only three rags?" James asked kneeling onto the floor.

"Exactly! Looks like we lost a rag and someone will be scrubbing with their hands!" Filch shouted bemusedly. He turned his back still cackling and exited through the door.

"Well that was well thought out was it not?" Sirius said snorting.

"Um, who's scrubbing with their hands?" Peter asked nervously.

"Well we can always do this democratically," suggested Remus.

"Demo—what?" Sirius' face gave an odd expression.

"Yeah! How about we draw wands? Longest wand gets a rag!" James added in giving his best innocent grin.

"That's not fair!" shouted Peter, "Everyone knows you have the longest wand!"

"And you have the shortest," Sirius laughed.

"No, no that's not fair. You're right Peter. Also, we no longer have our wands, McGonagall has them," Remus pointed out.

"Well we can always see who has the longest—"

"Don't even think about it Padfoot," James said cutting Sirius off with an amused look and the sign of his hand.

"Chicken! I'd win anyways," Sirius replied scoffing at the other boys.

"Alright then, we'll trade off." Remus said taking on the mature role. "I'll start and whoever's name is next on the map gets it."

"Guess that's you Wormtail." Sirius and James laughed.

The boys began to scrub.

Fifteen minutes.

Wormtail's turn.

Thirty minutes.

Padfoot's turn.

Forty five minutes.

"How the bloody hell did you do this!?" James stood dismayed by the stink of dirt and murky water dripping from his hands.

"It's barely been five minutes and you're complaining already!" Remus shouted a bit perturbed at James for breaking his tranquil thinking.

"I am not complaining!" he yelled back.

"Yeah you are!" The other three boys shouted back.

"Well how did you three manage so quietly?" James asked.

"Socks."

"Socks."

"Socks." Sirius grinned.

"Oh of course I'm the only bloody one who doesn't wear socks tonight."

They sat back in silence with occasional interruptions.

"Wonder what Evans's is doing."

"Not you." Sirius chuckled.

There was more scrubbing.

"Do you think they dirty these on purpose?"

"Oh yes Padfoot, Filch takes them out to squander in the mud."

"I thought so," Sirius muttered.

The boys continued to scrub until there was a sudden outburst.

"ARGHH!" James cried out. He jumped up in frustration and anger, "I can't stand this anymore."

The other boys stared at James whose glasses were askew on his face and wondered what caused such uproar.

"You can't stand what? We always do this James." Remus replied back cautiously. He had an undeveloped notion of where this was heading, so he tried to steer clear from any brainstorming, idea-hunting, troublesome prank-clueing words that would help James in the near-future towards wrecking havoc.

"I know we always do this, but this is it! Our last time doing detentions, our last time scrubbing trophies—"

"Doubt it's the last time doing this mate."

"Not the point Padfoot." James shot back.

"Well what else are we supposed to do James?" Peter asked. His was voice barely audible due to lack of speech.

"It's our Seventh year," James standing now erect as if giving his head boy end of the year speech.

"Oh dear someone's off his rocker."

"It's our time to shine!" James continued. "As your Head boy—"

"Oh Merlin."

"Quidditch captain,"

"Didn't know that."

"And top student,"

"I think I've heard this one before…"

"Hey! Quit mocking me!" James pointed to the three boys who now lay bored on the floor, their rags mangled and trophies isolated.

"Sorry Professor, it was just that your speech bored me!" Peter yawned.

"Agreed." Sirius said twirling a lock of his hair absentmindedly around his index finger.

"Well I'm sorry Mr. Black you think staring at Remus' bum is much more entertaining than my speech!" James yelled stomping off.

"I was not!" yelled Sirius who began turning red. Remus also blushed profusely as Peter and James stared at them both.

"Sorry, Remus. There was a—uh thing on your bottom," Sirius remarked lowly.

"S'kay." Remus replied.

There was an awkward silence until Peter spoke.

"Good going James! You made everyone feel weird." He laughed hysterically. The boys stared as Peter lollopped snorting.

"Shut up Pete," Sirius said, throwing a rag at Peters head.

"You shut up!" Peter added, still tickled as if held by the rictumsempra curse. He took the rag and threw it back. It landed flatly on James' face.

All hell broke loose.

The boys started to slosh water back and forth, towels flying in the air to and fro, puddles of filthy water dripping from their clothes and previously cleaned trophies scattered across the floor.

Remus skid across the floor, his bare feet sliding smoothly against the ground. Sirius who was nearly unstoppable was slipping gracefully all over the wet floor and flew into Remus, toppling on top of him with a crunching noise.

"Merlin Sirius how much do you weigh!?" Remus heaved.

"Enough to love, love," Sirius grinned, pushing his arms onto the ground and hoisting himself from Remus' body.

James took the nearest rag and threw it long and far. The rag flung itself onto Peter's face, who had his foot caught in a bucket. James laughed pointing in the direction of Peter's demise while Sirius snuck behind him with a bucket full of soapy water.

"HAHAHA," Remus laughed clutching his stomach.

James stood drenched in place. His unkempt hair fell flat onto his face and his glasses were splashed with droplets of water. He felt his clothes hug tighter to his body and remembered his silk pajamas.

"Padfoot!" He yelled, hysterically not sure to be upset or laughing about the situation, and turned to seize a delirious Sirius Black.

Sirius, on the other hand, couldn't move and was finding it difficult to breathe from laughing so hard.

"I'm—I'm—"Sirius gasped.

"You're dead, that's what you are!" James barked now chasing after Sirius who didn't have much energy left.

There was a loud snapping sound and the boys' attention turned to each other and the water game stopped.

"James? Why did you his Sirius so hard?" Peter questioned.

"I didn't hit him Pete," James responded looking at Sirius.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here!?"

"Oh dear," Remus said, pivoting to see a red faced McGonagall in a night cap and gown.

The boys faced the entrance door to the trophy room and put on their best shocked childlike faces.

"Lemme expla—"

"I don't think so Mr. Black."

The marauders stood quietly and waited for the professor to respond.

"I expected better from you!"

Remus flinched.

"I trusted you to serve a detention by yourself!"

Peter stared at the floor.

"I thought you'd grown over the summer," she said.

James gave a quick run through is hair with his hand.

"I am disappointed once again," McGonagall had finalized her point and gave a good poking to each boy square in the chest.

The professor grumbled to herself as she picked up a trophy and took her wand out of her fuzzy gray left pocket. She gave a swift flick and the large golden cup transfigured into a nice plushy armchair for which she was about to sit in.

She had finally gotten comfortable in the big seat and gave her best glare usually saved for the class room; intimidation purposes only.

"Work." She muttered, folding her arms and furrowing her eyebrows.

The boys all picked up their rags and sank back down to the floor; Peter made sure James was the one without the rag once again and James gave his best obscene gesture he could muster under the watch of Professor McGonagall.

They all scrubbed while holding quiet conversation under their breath.

"It's your fault Pete." Sirius whispered quite loudly.

"Well you shouldn't have been staring at Remus' arse!" Peter hushed back.

"Can we not talk about that!" Remus said smacking his dirtied hand against his face, embarrassed again.

"I can't help that my eyes moved in that direction!"
"For more than a minute?" Peter questioned back starting to snort again.

"This is what I live for," James smiled muttering to himself.

Hope you enjoyed it. I am supersorry for the wait. Hope it'll never be that long again :)