Chapter 4: Slytherin much
James and Remus had watched as the sun had started peeking above the horizon, waiting for Sirius, Gandalf, the dwarves and the hobbit to come back to the camp. Now, they were a bit worried. The wizard and their friend had gone for some time, and the two were quite sure people either came out quickly from a fight with trolls, or they didn't come out at all. Sirius had convinced them to wait here, but now they were less than convinced that it had been a good idea. While they couldn't do much without a staff and Remus' ankle was still sprained, they just didn't like waiting like that...
James bit his lower lip as he passed his hand through his hair, making it look even more messy than they naturally were. Which meant, really messy. Lily had compared him to a black porcupine, once.
"You know... It's been a while since they left, hasn't it?"
Remus sent him a side glance, brow furrowed, but soon went back to staring at the direction in which Sirius and the old wizard had disappeared.
"It has. Your point?"
"Well, they've surely taken care of the trolls, now. And if they haven't, the trolls will search for this camp, and they will find us. And if they do find us, we will not be able to defend ourselves any more than if we go to them. Correct?"
Of course, James didn't think the trolls had done the others in. He didn't want to think it, because it would mean that Sirius was...
Remus turned completely to look at him, this time, eyebrows raised high.
"I suppose so. Would you be suggesting that we go ahead and take a look at the state of things?"
"My, Remus, you're taking the words out of my mouth. Come on, I'll help you to walk. My mum always said I do a good walking cane."
Remus blinked, not sure why and how Euphemia Potter had been led to say such a thing, but eventually he disregarded the information, as it wasn't exactly the time to wonder about such things.
The werewolf descended from Gandalf's horse more or less successfully, wincing a bit when his left foot touched the ground.
"Well then, off we go. But we put on the invisibility cloak, just in case."
"It won't cover our feet, remember?"
They had outgrown the hiding possibilities of the cloak for four persons in third year, for three in fourth year, and since the end of last year, even two of the Marauders couldn't use it without their feet being seen. Unless they were James and Peter, who were the two shortest of the teens. Peter and Sirius could somehow manage without it being too obvious, Sirius and James was simply not possible, and Remus was just too tall to share with anyone.
Remus rolled his eyes, apparently not amused with his friend.
"We're going against possible trolls, not against McGonagall, James. They would be too puzzled to see four feet without anything above, if they even notice us, for them to act upon it quickly."
James grumbled that McGonagall wasn't out to eat them if she caught them sneaking around, unlike some trolls they didn't know whether they'd meet or not yet. Still, he put the cloak around their shoulders, closing the fastener with one hand while the other supported his injured friend. Finally he pulled the hood on both their head, wondering once more how came the cloak had not been torn up yet. It wasn't supposed to be used by several people, and while when they had been eleven they had just used it like some fancy blanket without bothering with the hood, because they still were small enough to do so, now wasn't the same.
Speaking of which...
James frowned his now invisible eyebrows, and turned his head a bit to look at Remus, whom, being under the hood too, he could still see... even if he could only see his head and part of his neck.
Just as he had thought, then. The werewolf's chin was way higher than it was supposed to be.
"Have you grown two inches during the night or what?"
Remus snorted, thinking it ridiculous, and turned his head to answer his friend's question... noticing in doing so that James' eyes were lower than expected.
"Maybe you are the one who lost two inches, Prongs."
The werewolf then glanced at his feet. They were visible up to the ankle.
Last time James and him had tried to use the cloak together, before coming to the conclusion it wasn't a good idea, in other words, two weeks before, only his heels were visible, as long as they stayed still.
"Or maybe not. That's weird. But we should go meet these trolls, don't you think? I'd hate to lose our very personal elf to such brutes."
James nodded, and so the two teenagers made their invisible way, hobbling under the cloak as Remus had a hard time moving even while being supported by his friend, toward the trees.
After a time they finally reached the fire they had been able to see in the dying night, and there they stopped, staring at the scene in disbelief.
Sirius and Gandalf were in good health, alright.
Apparently Gandalf's fellow travelers were good too. They were thirteen, just as the old wizard had told the teenagers, to be standing between four and five feet, and one who was only slightly shorter, but way less stocky. And thirteen of them were staring, just as the teenagers currently did, at the fourteenth, who was engaged in a glaring contest with their newly-elvish friend, while arguing with Gandalf about the fact that he wouldn't agree to have an elf travelling with them.
Or at least, that's what James and Remus understood, though they were more stunned with the way Sirius was taking the insult. He usually reserved that tone for people he despised, or whose actions, if not the person, he despised. Usually, Slytherins, but not only. James and Remus had each gotten some tongue-lashings from Sirius over the years, but that special tone had never been directed at them in all the years they had known each other. The tongue-lashings had been bad enough.
"And what do you fear, Thorin Oakenshiled? That I will go out of my way to throttle you while you sleep? I have better things to do during the night, such as sleeping, thank you very much. Now, if you want to have my death and my friends' on your conscience, then please do, leave us here, in the wild, unarmed, and injured for Remus. But if you do that, I'll ask you to be good enough and tell, when you get to the nearest settlement, where to find our corpses. I would hate for my bones to be gnawed upon by beasts for too long."
Sirius' tone was a bit vicious, Remus noticed, as James quietly unfastened his cloak, revealing their figures to the eye, even if no one except Gandalf, and possibly Sirius, seemed to notice them. Sirius being malevolent rarely was a good thing in the making.
The dwarf was about to answer, a disdainful look on his face that reminded the teens too much of the very friend with whom he was currently arguing, but Remus cleared his throat, hoping that he could sweeten the situation... somehow.
"Sirius, please. Be nice."
The elf glared at him, but said nothing, mollified... or apparently so, if anything.
Then the werewolf turned his eyes to the dwarf whom Sirius had called Thorin Oakenshield.
"What my friend means, master dwarf, is that there is no reason for you to be wary of us. Yes, we might be strangers, but as you can see, we still are youngsters, and unarmed at that. You gave us no reason to attack you, nor a reason to believe you might be a danger to us, and we are only asking for you to help us reach the nearest settlement. We are willing to do anything to help, if participation is the matter, but we really need to get to safety."
Remus had seen a strange glint in Sirius' eyes when he had mentioned being unarmed. It was true that Sirius' magic was still there, but he couldn't use it without risking his life, and their magics, James' and Remus', were simply too hard to channel into wands, in this world. They were basically unarmed.
Even if Sirius' oratorical skills were sometimes more of a weapon than anything else.
"We are only asking for the most simple help, and we would be grateful if you could allow us to travel with you for a while."
The dwarves and the hobbit were now all looking at the scarred youth, whom another teenager was helping to stand. They had been startled, at first, but these two didn't look very dangerous. The one with the scars looked ill, and on top of that as if he had been mauled by a wolf or another wild beast. Moreover, it was obvious that his ankle was not right, as he kept leaning on his other foot and on the second teen. Teen who, if he seemed to be rather athletic, was still nearly three inches shorter than his friend, and who was wearing some strange glass-thing before his eyes.
Bofur muttered something about not letting children in the wild, but he shut up when Thorin gave him a stern look. He could understand about the elf, especially since, good intentions or not, he had insulted them when confronting the trolls, but these two? Thorin wasn't going to let them to die here, was he?
The regal dwarf took the time to look the newcomers up and down before speaking.
"I wasn't expecting these two friends of the elf to be children of Men. I can consider your request, but given your state, I doubt you would be much help, young man."
Remus flushed a bit, as it reminded him of all the times he had been looked down upon for his sick complexion, even if here it was more about his sprained ankle than anything else.
James jumped in the conversation just then, to defend his friend.
"I'll do his share of work, if it comes to it."
Before Thorin Oakenshiled could respond, Sirius' voice cut in.
"If it is about remuneration, I can pay for the three of us."
All heads turned to the elf, some in disbelief, some in mock outrage... though the dwarves wouldn't say no to some more gold, even if they had to protect an elf and two men for it. A life of wandering after the fall of Erebor had not been kind to their finances.
Thorin finally spoke up, eyeing the elf with a bit less distrust... just a bit less. Even if the elf was offering a reward, as any civilized person should know to do, it didn't mean he was a better person for it.
"We are not savages. We dwarves wouldn't leave people in need to fend for themselves."
But apparently the allusion flew over the elf's head, who simply failed to react.
"But it would be just good, since you can pay, to at least compensate for what you'll be eating. I don't reckon one of you can hunt, can you?"
The youth with a mop of black hair opened his mouth as if to contradict the King-in-Exile, but he promptly shut it back, as if frustrated about something that would prevent him from hunting. The youngster glared at a stick he had in his hand, as if it was its fault, and Thorin decided to think about it later. There was something about those three that was definitely fishy, for example, what they were doing alone in the wild, but they didn't seem like a bad bunch of persons.
Except the elf, of course. Elves were all the same, anyway. Self-righteous people who spoke big, but were cowards.
Still, that one, if he was dreadfully insolent, didn't exactly seem like a villain. Just a bastard.
"How much can you pay us?"
Thorin'd have relented, anyway, and allowed the three to travel with them, if simply because only one of the three was an elf, and because there was one who was injured. They were only children, and it wouldn't be said that Thorin Oakenshield was as much of a bastard as the elves had been to his people.
But since the elf had offered...
"I don't know how much our currency would be here, but as our money is of gold, silver and bronze, I guess you can figure it out on your own."
And that being said, Sirius took a handful of galleons from a pocket, which he held up for the dwarves to see.
The dark-haired, regal-looking dwarf with whom he had been talking / arguing / glaring since the beginning of this situation squinted at the pieces, and eventually took the handful.
"That will do. Now, get on, we have to get back to camp. I don't want to stay here any longer than necessary."
And he gestured at the petrified trolls behind them.
But Gandalf stopped him from leaving, pointing out that they needed more food if they wanted to make it to wherever it was that they were going. Remus and Sirius shared a look as Imladris wasn't mentioned, deciding to keep their questions for later, when they'd be alone with the old wizard. A dwarf snorted, saying that the trolls had most likely eaten everything edible in the vicinity, anyway, and that they'd better just leave.
Gandalf raised a bushy eyebrow, and Kili almost felt as if he was being told off.
They all went on their way, searching for the troll-hole that had to be somewhere here.
Not interested, and Remus having some difficulty with walking anyway, the three teens took their time in getting there. James was still supporting the werewolf on his left, and Sirius was walking at their right, making sure he could catch his friend if something happened
James was glancing lopsided looks at Sirius every once in a while, and Remus finally had enough. He didn't really appreciate to be looked past too many time, and a Potter who didn't get to say what they had on their mind could turn out to be quite annoying, as the werewolf had found out.
"James, speak."
The messy-haired teenager looked at him as if he had been betrayed, as Sirius' attention went off Remus and onto his other friend.
"But..."
This time, it was Sirius who rolled his eyes, feeling he was the cause of his best friend's weird behavior. Or, that is, of James' usually awkward behavior, since the guy reacted like that each and every time he didn't want to speak.
"Well, speak, Prongs. I won't eat you, I promise. Even if your question turns out to be a stupid one."
James glared at him, but Sirius, as always, completely ignored it. He had much practice with his parents, after all.
"I was only wondering why that dwarf looked like he wanted to murder you on the spot?"
Sirius shrugged. He had much practice with that look too.
"Apparently he doesn't like elves any more than Gandalf had warned us for it to be likely, and I had to say some rude things to get the trolls' attention off the rising sun. By the way, as you may have noticed, it would seem that trolls in this world get petrified by sunlight."
"It'd be good if it was so simple with ours. By the way, Padfoot, why did you have all these galleons with you? It was a sunday, in school, at the beginning of the year. I don't see how you could have spent it..."
Sirius threw a wolfish grin at Remus, who was already regretting having asked.
"You never know what might happen in Hogwarts. I always have some money with me, for potential bribery."
James and Remus only stared at their friend.
"Who would you want to bribe? And what for?"
"You never know, James. Better safe than sorry, and you see, it just came in handy."
James shook his head. Even if Sirius wasn't wrong, as it had come in handy, there were simply times when he couldn't understand his best friend. Sirius was plain weird.
Remus sighed, pointing out that now, his friend had nothing left of his gold, and that he shouldn't have given so much to the dwarves from the start. If they had asked for more, then he should have proposed it, but not right away.
Sirius raised an eyebrow at that, and after having checked that no one else was there to see, he reached into his pockets, and when he took out his hands, they were full with two other handfuls of galleons, sickles and knuts.
"What do you believe? I never go out without at least that much money. I offered enough for them not to believe I wasn't proposing all that I had, so that they wouldn't have a chance to argue."
"Slytherin much, Sirius?"
The elf snorted, but didn't deny the accusation. James and Remus, after all, knew him well enough to understand that the minute he had spent with the Sorting Hat on his head hadn't been for no reason. He had never told them how exactly his Sorting had gone, but it was kind of obvious that Slytherin had been considered, just as Gryffindor had. Remus had ventured Hufflepuff too once, for his friend's loyalty, and Sirius had smiled lightly. It wasn't false, though Hufflepuff had only been mentioned, and never really considered by the Hat.
Sirius was brave enough to die of it, the Marauders always said, and noble enough that he wouldn't abide by prejudiced beliefs, but that didn't mean he wasn't sly and cunning. He was, at least up to some point, his parents' child. After having grown up with Slytherins, it would have been a wonder if he hadn't been so.
Gandalf's voice called for the teenager, and Sirius put his money back where it belonged, in the specially magicked pockets of his jeans. They walked out of the trees' shadow, and found themselves staring at a door that was literally made of stone. A big key had been inserted in a keyhole, and a terrible stench came out of the cave that was beyond.
Sirius immediately brought his hand to his nose, cursing once again the fact that elves were apparently much more sensitive than humans. The stench was even worse than the trolls', something like a condensated smell of troll, death, and carcass.
Gandalf gave him a sorry look, and handed swords to the tree teenagers.
James eagerly accepted his, always reminded of Gryffindor's legendary sword each time he saw one of these weapons, while Remus and Sirius exchanged an uncomfortable look.
It was a dwarf with a big white beard who put the sword in the werewolf's hand.
"You will need it, you know. You will heal after a time, and you still need to be able to defend yourself if we are attacked."
Remus mumbled something about violence, but still accepted it.
When Balin turned to the elf, he saw that the pointy-eared youth wasn't exactly thrilled with the weapon nonetheless.
"Isn't there something less... Well, I don't know, maybe daggers? Whenever I got my hands on a sword, something terrible almost happened. I think they are too... broad and long and just not adapted to my fighting style?"
The youngster with a mop of black hair burst into laughter at the statement made by his friend.
"You mean how you'd rather do something unexpected rather than abide by the rules?"
The elf gave him a mean look.
"There are no rules in combat, James. The ones who think a fight is the same as a duel are the ones to die. And what I mean is that I'd rather fight with something easy to use from any position."
Gandalf rose his eyebrows at Balin as he put down the sword he had offered the elf, and the dwarf went to look for some daggers. He could understand the desire of the elf, but it just didn't sound very elf-like.
This elf, if anything, was a strange one.
Eventually, Sirius ended up with three daggers that he tucked into his belt, saying it'd have to do for now. The dwarves packed all the food they could from the troll-hole. Gandalf and Thorin had taken the two best swords of the cave, and the wizard had given a knife to Bilbo, who was just short enough that it made him a sword. Some of the dwarves were burying the gold they had found in the troll-hole, when one of them came back, saying the ponies and Gandalf's horse had gotten free, and run away.
Sirius and James shared a worried glance, before looking at Remus, who smiled painfully. The werewolf just wasn't going to be able to walk on his own, and they still had to get to this Imladris place...
Then a glint appeared in James' eyes, and his friends squinted at him as he grew thoughtful. They weren't quite sure the teenager's idea was safe or reasonable, for most of his ideas were not.
James turned around, without telling them what was on his mind. It didn't reassure them one bit.
The teen spotted the nearest dwarf, and asked him if they had any strips of leather, or anything of the sort that he could use to tie something up. The dwarf, Ori, gave him a dozen of solid bands, a curious look on his face.
James walked back to his friends, and handed the leather strips to Sirius, who stared at them blankly.
"What do you want me to do with that?"
"Well, Remus can't walk, and Gandalf just lost his mount. It doesn't mean we don't have another four-legged, horse-like animal around. Only, we'll have to do without a saddle."
The two other teenagers' eyes went wide as they realized what their friend was implying. Sirius and Remus tried to argue that it might not have been the best time to show that to the others...
...But loud sounds interrupted them before they got to make their point.
