After other people started coming down for breakfast things settled down and felt a little more normal for all of them. Ron and Hermione came down and Harry, who was being gradually slightly unnerved by the Marauders, joined them in more normal conversation— for him at least.
Peter also came down. James and Remus greeted him absently, though Sirius's idea of "giving the kid a chance" this morning seemed to be to ignore him. Rather put out by his friend's reactions, Peter turned instead to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, apparently deciding to brave the waters of the unusual for a conversation that consisted of more then "Oh, G'morning, Peter."
"Good morning," he greeted them.
Ron returned it absently. Hermione started, turned around, and nearly hit his long nose with the Arithmancy book in her hands. "Oh, hello . . . uh . . . Peter," she said, still sounding rather startled. Peter supposed that, if she'd been reading, he ought to count himself lucky she'd answered, as Remus was as likely as not to not hear him.
Harry did ignore him, pretending to be deep in a conversation with Ron. It was only when Hermione nudged him with her elbow and hissed something about being polite that he answered at all. "Hullo," he muttered. It sounded rather stiff.
Hermione glared at him, but apparently gave up in frustration. Peter, looking rather forlorn, wandered off.
Hermione bent down, glaring at both Harry and Ron and exclaiming in hushed tones, "And why couldn't the two of you have been more polite?"
"Said good morning, didn't I?" Ron asked, looking over at Peter and remembering his rat.
"He betrayed my parents, what do you expect?" Harry snapped, glancing over at the four of them, Peter of whom had managed to get Remus to talk to him.
"Oh, Harry," Hermione groaned, "but it's another five or so years before he does. He has no idea what he's going to do then, and none of them have any idea why you're being so cold to him."
"Maybe we should tell them," Harry suggested through clenched teeth.
"Oh, sure, that's a good idea," Hermione said sarcastically. "We'd have to tell them James was dead then, and they'd start asking questions about everything else, and then we'd have to tell them Sirius was dead, and Peter was a Death Eater, and at least we don't know everything about Remus Lupin's future!" She said this all very fast, as a matter of fact, Ron asked her how a person could talk so fast and not turn blue.
Hermione loftily ignored him.
Harry and Ron returned to having a conversation about Quidditch. James looked interestedly over when he heard Harry and Ron discussing their chances against the other house teams this year. "So who's on the team?" the older Potter asked his son.
"Harry's the seeker," Ron answered, "I keep. Most of the rest of the team graduated last year." He shrugged. "So who d'you think we need, Harry?"
This was a conversation, fortunately, that could occupy almost all of the boys for the remainder of breakfast, and no comment was made as to how stiff Harry was acting toward Peter, not even after Hermione managed to get all of their attentions to announce that it was time to get to transfiguration before all of them were late, and therefore the Marauders were noticed.
Not that it did much good. While they got there with about five minutes to spare, Sirius, James, Ron, and Harry were still talking, though the conversation had changed to one of those things Hermione chose to ignore. Unfortunately it was also one of those things that could be discussed for a very long time, because Sirius was still talking when Professor McGonagall entered the room.
She tapped her wand on her desk for order. Sirius ignored it. She cleared her throat loudly. Unfortunately, Sirius had apparently left the zone in which he would listen to her.
Finally, Professor McGonagall wandered over to the desk at which the four of them were sitting at, tapped her wand and that, and hissed, "That will be enough, Mr. Black."
At the sound of a familiar voice— and indeed his name— Sirius turned around to stare at McGonagall, who stared back in utmost surprise. "Still here, Professor?" Sirius asked innocently, grinning like a maniac, which most of the spectators decided he must be.
Professor McGonagall stopped staring and returned her air of dignity. "Yes, I am Mr. Balck."
After a few moments of that, both of them seemed to realize what was going on. "Professor Dumbledore knows you're here, right, Black?" McGonagall asked, looking around. "And Mr. Potter, and Lupin, and Pettigrew? All four of you?"
"Yeah, he knows," Sirius answered with a shrug. "He basically told us to keep our heads down."
"Well, I should hope so," McGonagall told him. "And may I add that keeping your head down does not involve talking at the top of your voice in my class?"
Sirius, apparently, was undaunted by her accusation, however. He merely shrugged.
Professor McGonagall gave up in disgust, as he had many times before when trying to lecture this particular teenager. She instead marched up to the front of the class, greeted them briskly as a whole, and began to teach.
Author's Note: Gah, another short chapter. They're about to get longer, so there's the warning to anyone with a short attention span (not too much, but definitely over a thousand words per chapter. . . . Thanks to all my lovely reviewers, criticism appreciated an' all that. Cheers! --- Loki Mischeif-Maker
Peter also came down. James and Remus greeted him absently, though Sirius's idea of "giving the kid a chance" this morning seemed to be to ignore him. Rather put out by his friend's reactions, Peter turned instead to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, apparently deciding to brave the waters of the unusual for a conversation that consisted of more then "Oh, G'morning, Peter."
"Good morning," he greeted them.
Ron returned it absently. Hermione started, turned around, and nearly hit his long nose with the Arithmancy book in her hands. "Oh, hello . . . uh . . . Peter," she said, still sounding rather startled. Peter supposed that, if she'd been reading, he ought to count himself lucky she'd answered, as Remus was as likely as not to not hear him.
Harry did ignore him, pretending to be deep in a conversation with Ron. It was only when Hermione nudged him with her elbow and hissed something about being polite that he answered at all. "Hullo," he muttered. It sounded rather stiff.
Hermione glared at him, but apparently gave up in frustration. Peter, looking rather forlorn, wandered off.
Hermione bent down, glaring at both Harry and Ron and exclaiming in hushed tones, "And why couldn't the two of you have been more polite?"
"Said good morning, didn't I?" Ron asked, looking over at Peter and remembering his rat.
"He betrayed my parents, what do you expect?" Harry snapped, glancing over at the four of them, Peter of whom had managed to get Remus to talk to him.
"Oh, Harry," Hermione groaned, "but it's another five or so years before he does. He has no idea what he's going to do then, and none of them have any idea why you're being so cold to him."
"Maybe we should tell them," Harry suggested through clenched teeth.
"Oh, sure, that's a good idea," Hermione said sarcastically. "We'd have to tell them James was dead then, and they'd start asking questions about everything else, and then we'd have to tell them Sirius was dead, and Peter was a Death Eater, and at least we don't know everything about Remus Lupin's future!" She said this all very fast, as a matter of fact, Ron asked her how a person could talk so fast and not turn blue.
Hermione loftily ignored him.
Harry and Ron returned to having a conversation about Quidditch. James looked interestedly over when he heard Harry and Ron discussing their chances against the other house teams this year. "So who's on the team?" the older Potter asked his son.
"Harry's the seeker," Ron answered, "I keep. Most of the rest of the team graduated last year." He shrugged. "So who d'you think we need, Harry?"
This was a conversation, fortunately, that could occupy almost all of the boys for the remainder of breakfast, and no comment was made as to how stiff Harry was acting toward Peter, not even after Hermione managed to get all of their attentions to announce that it was time to get to transfiguration before all of them were late, and therefore the Marauders were noticed.
Not that it did much good. While they got there with about five minutes to spare, Sirius, James, Ron, and Harry were still talking, though the conversation had changed to one of those things Hermione chose to ignore. Unfortunately it was also one of those things that could be discussed for a very long time, because Sirius was still talking when Professor McGonagall entered the room.
She tapped her wand on her desk for order. Sirius ignored it. She cleared her throat loudly. Unfortunately, Sirius had apparently left the zone in which he would listen to her.
Finally, Professor McGonagall wandered over to the desk at which the four of them were sitting at, tapped her wand and that, and hissed, "That will be enough, Mr. Black."
At the sound of a familiar voice— and indeed his name— Sirius turned around to stare at McGonagall, who stared back in utmost surprise. "Still here, Professor?" Sirius asked innocently, grinning like a maniac, which most of the spectators decided he must be.
Professor McGonagall stopped staring and returned her air of dignity. "Yes, I am Mr. Balck."
After a few moments of that, both of them seemed to realize what was going on. "Professor Dumbledore knows you're here, right, Black?" McGonagall asked, looking around. "And Mr. Potter, and Lupin, and Pettigrew? All four of you?"
"Yeah, he knows," Sirius answered with a shrug. "He basically told us to keep our heads down."
"Well, I should hope so," McGonagall told him. "And may I add that keeping your head down does not involve talking at the top of your voice in my class?"
Sirius, apparently, was undaunted by her accusation, however. He merely shrugged.
Professor McGonagall gave up in disgust, as he had many times before when trying to lecture this particular teenager. She instead marched up to the front of the class, greeted them briskly as a whole, and began to teach.
Author's Note: Gah, another short chapter. They're about to get longer, so there's the warning to anyone with a short attention span (not too much, but definitely over a thousand words per chapter. . . . Thanks to all my lovely reviewers, criticism appreciated an' all that. Cheers! --- Loki Mischeif-Maker