Peter was hiding under a table in Potions, praying the rogue Bludger didn't come his way.
Yes, a Bludger. Somehow, James and Sirius had managed to sneak a Bludger into the dungeon, and it was currently flying around smashing into cauldrons of half-finished hiccupping potions, destroying scales and likely leaving some students with some nasty bruises.
Some brave students, including James and Sirius, oddly enough, were trying to help professor Slughorn capture the thing. Peter suspected his two friends had joined the mix only to avoid heavy suspicion falling on themselves, but he wasn't sure they would succeed - James was laughing joyfully as he ran around the classroom, hopping up onto tables and even swinging from an out-of-place chandelier that Slughorn had hanging to give off more light.
"Watch it, Petey," Sirius said, running up and kicking the Bludger like the Muggles did with footballs as it came firing at Peter's face. It redirected and grazed Anita Selwyn in the arm before shooting toward Severus Snape's cauldron and sending his potion everywhere. Thankfully, Snape and Lily Evans had taken refuge with much of the rest of the class under Slughorn's desk, and no one was seriously burned.
"Accio!" Piper Windsor in Slytherin was trying to summon the ball into a box that the professor had conjured, but was not having much luck. Slughorn himself, a fully-qualified wizard, kept missing the Bludger with his summoning spells - the thing was fast and determined to avoid capture.
"There must be a better way to do that," Remus said from across the aisle. He'd also elected to scramble under a table. "Is there a specific spell they use to collect them after games, James?"
"Nope!" James said brightly, dodging the spirited object as it came barreling right for him. "Usually the beaters just collect them the old fashioned way." The ball smashed into a series of decorative paperweights on Slughorn's desk and they all shattered, sending shards of glass flying and eliciting squeals from the children under the desk.
"Which is?"
"Mine!" Steven Mulciber called, jumping from a table and catching the Bludger with his gorilla-like arms. He succeeding in capturing it, but the ball continued to struggle violently in his grasp.
"Like that," James said. "I hate to admit it, but that guy might have the makings of a good Quidditch player."
"Good work, son, ten points to Slytherin!" Slughorn said, rushing forward and snapping the enchanted box closed around the ball. "Well, how a Bludger got all the way through the castle down to the dungeons...we don't even have windows down here…"
James and Sirius suddenly became very interested in their feet.
"No matter," he said. "I suppose it's someone's idea of a joke." Slughorn wasn't much of a disciplinarian. He took a good look around the classroom and looked a bit less amused. "Though it seems there's no way to rescue today's lesson. He sighed and waved his wand, vanishing all the spilled potions. "Anyone hit hard enough to require a trip to the hospital wing?"
Poor Henry Connors, who had been smashed aggressively in the knee, raised a hand. Slughorn ushered him off with the Fraser twins. Slughorn glanced at his watch. "Well, there's only 30 minutes left anyhow. You're all free to go."
Peter grinned and finally came out from the table, stretching. "Shall we head down for supper?" he asked his friends as everyone collected their things.
"It's too early, Sirius told him. "Let's head back to the dorm for a bit."
The walk back to Gryffindor Tower from the dungeons was quite a haul, Peter realized as he followed his friends. As they usually stopped off for a meal in the Great Hall first, he'd never made the whole trip before. He was winded by the time they made it home, and dropped his bag on the floor and flopped on his bed with a little moan.
"That was brilliant," he told James and Sirius. "How in the world did you manage to get the Bludger?"
James grinned. "Can you keep a secret?" Peter nodded immediately. James glanced at Remus, who also nodded, then reached into his pocket.
"This," he said. He'd pulled out what looked like a handkerchief-sized patch of silver silk, but as he shook it Peter realized it was much larger than it initially appeared - it had been tightly folded. It shimmered as James held it up to the light. Then, with a flourish, James wrapped it around his shoulders, and disappeared.
"Whoa!" Peter squealed. "An invisibility cloak!"
"Those are fairly rare, aren't they?" Remus asked, interested. "Is that how you got into the staffroom last night?"
James didn't answer, but Sirius seemed to realize what was going on. "Oi, Potter, if you're nodding, we can't see you, remember?"
"Right, sorry," James pulled just the hood back, creating the illusion that his head was floating midair. "Yes, it's how we got into the staffroom. We could probably fit three of us under it right now, if you want to test it out."
"Are invisibility cloaks against the rules?" Remus asked uncertainly.
"Well, I'm not going to volunteer that I have one, but they aren't specifically mentioned on the prohibited items list. Dad checked before he sent this to me."
"Just think of what you can do invisible," Peter burst out, his mind whirring. It was usually James and Sirius that came up with the wild plans, but the chess player in him was thinking of all the strategic ways the cloak could be used. "We can get around the castle after hours, or avoid the Slytherins, or even just take a quick trip to the kitchens!"
"I know!" Sirius seized Peter's shoulders with both arms and shook him with excitement. "We can sneak into Professor McGonagall's office and swipe our detention records, or sneak down to the kitchens - maybe break into the prefect's bathroom…"
"Why the prefect's bathroom?" James asked.
"We could switch out the bubble bath with pickle juice," Sirius said without missing a beat.
"Why pickle juice?" James asked.
"Because pickle juice is disgusting. Who wants to soak in pickle juice?"
"But the smell would immediately give it away, giving the victim ample time to escape. Think bigger, Black," James said.
"Hair remover in the shampoo bottles?"
"I wouldn't mind seeing the kitchens." Remus said.
The other three turned on their heels to stare at him, mouths agape. Remus Lupin? Suggesting to break a school rule?
"What?" He asked. "I don't see the harm in a little snack…"
"LUPIN!" Sirius roared happily and released Peter to pounce on the other boy. "We'll make a troublemaker of you yet!" He ruffled the smaller boy's hair aggressively.
"I don't know about that…" Remus said, looking flushed and shoving Sirius away. "I was just thinking it might be nice to have a spot of hot chocolate before bed some night."
"Oh yes!" Peter agreed. "With just a bit of cinnamon and nutmeg."
"And whipped cream on top," James finished. "Tonight, we bust into the kitchens. I'm told by a reliable source that to get in you must tickle the pear in the portrait. Unfortunately the aforementioned source was unwilling to tell me where said portrait is located, nor what else is in the portrait."
"So it seems you only have partial information," Remus said disapprovingly. "And you plan to have us wander aimlessly after curfew?"
"Remus, dear boy, not all who wander are lost!" James said loftily. "Besides, Sirius and I have a theory.
"Which is?"
James' eyes sparkled. "The kitchens are directly under the Great Hall - right? Shacklebolt mentioned that and the house elves on our first night."
"I've been meaning to ask," Remus said. "What exactly are house elves?"
"What do you mean, 'what are house elves?'" Sirius asked.
"Remus has a Muggle mum, Sirius," James said. "House elves are a curious type of creature that live to serve wizards, doing chores and the like. Dad finds it a bit off-putting - the idea of being waited on hand and foot - but I'm sure Mum would love one."
"Your family doesn't have a house elf?" Sirius asked, looking surprised.
"No, it seems a ways back one of the ancestors thought it prudent to set the family elf free - something about slave labor. Rumor has it he sent him to Hogwarts, actually, when the elf insisted he needed work somewhere. Of course this was all before my time so I'm not entirely sure of the accuracy of the story. My lofty ancestor may have just squandered the family fortune and sold the elf."
"My family would never imagine freeing the house elves. We display their heads in the hallway when they die," Sirius said.
"That sounds perfectly horrible," Peter interjected.
"Barbaric," Remus said, looking ill.
Sirius just shrugged. "The elves consider it a great honor. Mad little creatures."
"So what do you say we give it a go tonight then?" James said.
"What if we get caught out of bed after curfew?" Remus responded. "We're supposed to stick to the common room or dormitory after hours."
"Come on Remus, live a little," Sirius said, throwing an arm around him. "Are you afraid of the dark or something? You just said you'd like a spot of chocolate."
"I'm not afraid of the dark," Remus said. "I'm just not sure it's wise."
"Of course it's not wise, it's reckless," James said. "But come on now, everyone wants to be young and reckless. I promise it will be great fun. Petey's down for it, right?"
"Yes!" Peter said, nodding vigorously.
"It's settled then," James said."
Remus crossed his arms and looked rather stern, but then relented. "If we find it, perhaps the elves will whip me up some chocolate pudding as well…"
Peter laughed. Among all the things he'd observed about his new friends, he'd learned that Remus had a bit of a sweet tooth, and particularly loved anything chocolate.
All four of them were in. The boys were going on their first real adventure together.
/
"This must be it," Sirius said, staring up at the portrait before them.
"Tickle the pear!" James told him, elbowing him good-naturedly.
With great ceremony, Sirius stood tall, smoothed his hair, then reached up and poked the pear in question. At once the portrait swung away, and all four boys gasped at what they saw before them.
Like the Great Hall above there were four long tables with a fifth perpendicular to the others. There were great fires and brick ovens all around, with all manner of pans, pots and other kitchen tools hanging from the ceiling. And it smelled delicious - the elves must have been baking bread.
"Well, this is quite a bit more impressive than our kitchen," Sirius said.
"Amazing!" Peter said, rushing in. A small horde of house elves rushed to greet him. "Hello sirs! What can we get you?"
"A spot of tea and some biscuits," Sirius said. "And some chocolate pudding for Remus here. Quickly."
"If it's not too much trouble," Remus added in a less domineering tone.
"No trouble, no trouble!" The elves immediately scattered to pull together the request.
"Is sir a Pettigrew?" One of the older elves approached and asked Peter, who looked confused.
"Why yes - but how did you-"
But the elf, who was wearing a bright red tea cozy, clapped her hands together and smiled widely. "You look like Mister Paul! Deedee knew your father very well!" She squeaked, looking pleased. "He liked his midnight snacks, he did."
"My father came down to the kitchens?" Peter asked, looking delighted. Sirius became curious when he realized he'd never heard Peter talk of his father. In fact, Sirius knew very little about Peter at all - he was easy to overlook.
"What's the deal with your dad, Petey?" Sirius asked as he accepted a cup of tea one of the elves had shoved into his hands.
"Er - I don't know much about him, to be honest," Peter said. "He died before I was born."
Sirius jumped as the elf named DeeDee dropped a tray of scones and biscuits with a clatter. "Oh no! How terrible!" She exclaimed. "Mister Paul was such a sweet boy!" She looked aggrieved and didn't even make a move to pick up the mess she'd made until two other elves rushed in to clear it up.
"I didn't know that," James said, frowning. "I'm really sorry to hear that."
"How did it happen?" Sirius asked, earning himself a kick in the shin from James.
"Manners, Black," James said. "Show some sensitivity."
"I'd rather not talk about it," Peter said. "Can't we just enjoy the fruits of our labors?"
"Yes yes, but not fruit, chocolate for Remus," James said as more elves appeared with plates laden with treats. "Here's to some good work today, boys."
Abandoning his interest in Peter's home life, Sirius took another look around. He had to admit, it was very exciting to be standing in the kitchen with the option to eat nearly anything he could think of. He'd never been permitted to pick the menu at home. His mother believed in formal sit-down meals, and snacks in between were out of the question. Sirius might try to sneak something once in a while, but he was not on good terms with the family house elf and he rarely succeeded without detection.
Granted, the Blacks ate very well - Sirius had never really objected to the food - it was the company he was forced to engage with that caused him frustration. The Great Hall was slightly better - for he had James, Remus, Peter and a slew of other more casual acquaintances around him, but he still felt like he was always being watched by disapproving eyes from the Slytherin table. Here though, it was just him and his three friends - no mother rapping him on the knuckles if his table manners weren't just so, no grandfather decrying his lack of interest in the political discussion of the day, no Bellatrix mocking him when he burned his tongue on the still boiling soup that only ever seemed to be delivered to his seat, and no Rodolphus Lestrange or Evan Rosier sneering at him from afar.
No, there was no one here but James, who was considering the choice of scones, Remus, who was licking a spoon clean of all remnants of chocolate pudding, and Peter, who was sampling every treat on the platter by shoving them in his face.
Eleven-year-old Sirius Black grinned in a merry way only a happy child can, and reached out for a biscuit.
After gorging themselves on all manner of snacks, the boys headed back to the common room, moving a fair bit slower than usual due to their stuffed stomachs.
They were just one stairway away from the tower when Sirius heard a sound that made his hair stand on end.
"Meowwwww."
He whipped around and glared. It was the caretaker's cat.
"Sod it." he said. The animal was already trying to slink away.
"You don't like cats?" Peter asked.
"The cat's going to go get Filch, Petey," James said patiently. "The older students warned us."
"Not if I catch it first!" Sirius took off after the animal, trying to scoop it up in his arms. The cat hissed and struggled, scratching clean through the sleeves of his robes.
"Don't hurt it!" Remus said, looking alarmed.
"You're more worried about the cat than my face?" Sirius asked after the animal took a swipe and left a big red cut on his cheek. It stung. He held the animal as far out as he could and considered his options. The cat was making a racket and the caretaker would be coming at any moment. He turned to his friends.
"Get under the cloak and make a run for it," he advised. "I'll distract Filch."
But James shook his head. "You're not going down for this alone. He'll be furious about the cat."
Sirius groaned. James Potter would insist on making a martyr out of himself. "Fine. Remus and Peter - go now!" Peter was already trying to scurry away, but Remus looked torn.
"It doesn't seem right to leave a friend behind…" He said quietly. "And James, the cloak is yours."
"Lupin, I can't battle this wild animal and reason with you at the same time. Go. Keep your record clean, Mr. Perfect Student." Sirius tried to smile through the scratches on his face.
"Go on, it's not like you're leaving us to die," James said encouragingly, stretching one arm and resting is casually on his head while handing the cloak to Remus with the other. "And we won't all fit underneath, especially running. Go along, we'll be just fine."
Remus nodded and accepted the cloak from James then began to follow Peter. He looked back several times before finally disappearing under the garment and catching up to Peter. Suddenly, they were both gone.
Sirius sighed in relief and turned back to the cat. "Shut up you stupid animal," he grumbled, dropping her. She landed nimbly on her feet and hissed at him.
"Mrs. Atwood? Where are you baby?" The caretaker, who to Sirius always looked shabby and unwashed, came around the corner not a second after Remus was out of sight. The cat ran to him, mewing furiously. The caretaker's beady eyes went from her to Sirius and James, then back to the cat again. He picked her up and stroked her.
"You manhandled my cat," he said to Sirius in a low voice. "And it's past curfew. Someone is in a great deal of trouble." He grinned unpleasantly and revealed that he was missing a tooth. Sirius resisted the urge to shudder.
"Your cat viciously attacked me unprovoked," Sirius told him, speaking in the calm and confident voice he often watched his father use. "I didn't hurt her in the slightest. I am the victim here. I'll need the hospital wing to ensure that these scratches don't scar."
"Victim or no, you two are out of bed past curfew, and my pretty girl caught you in the act. Misbehaving little cretins deserve a little corporal punishment, don't you think, Mrs. Atwood?" The cat purred.
James stepped forward. "Surely you aren't suggesting laying a hand on sons of two of the most influential families in Britain," he said, matching Sirius' calm demeanor. "Because that is what it sounded like."
"He wouldn't dare," Sirius said, glaring at the man. Argus Filch was nothing more than a castle caretaker - in a castle full of house elves that were sure to do the work more efficiently than a wizard anyhow. He was lowly and pathetic. Sirius Black was not about to let this man lay hands on him.
The caretaker opened his mouth to respond but at that moment none other than Professor McGonagall swept around the corner. "What is this? Students out of bed?"
"Technically, as we haven't gone to bed at all, that's not an accurate assessment of the situation, Professor," Sirius said, grinning at her. He was pleased to see her. His Head of House was strict but reasonable. There would be punishment of course, but it wouldn't be anything terrible. And he was rather pleased that he had been successful in getting Remus and Peter to escape any implication in their crime.
"Sirius Black? You're bleeding. Argus - what is going on here?" Her voice had its usual sharp edge as she rounded on the caretaker. "Really, I know she's your companion but this is the third time this week that cat has scratched a student. Why haven't you escorted him to the hospital wing?"
"I only just got here, Deputy Headmistress," Filch said, refusing to meet her eyes and continuing to stroke Mrs. Atwood. "And the children were out of bed."
The woman pursed her lips. "I see." She turned back to the boys and frowned down at them, looking over her spectacles. "Mr. Black. And Mr. Potter of course. The way things are going I have to wonder if you're actually trying to spend time in my office."
"We're rather fond of you, Professor," James shot back cheerfully. "And your office smells like ginger biscuits - it's rather cozy."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Potter," she told him as Sirius smothered his laughter.
"Professor! I would never try such underhanded tactics on you. I only speak the truth," James said.
She ignored him and Sirius flinched as she moved a lock of hair out of his face to get a better look at the deepest scratch on his face. "We'll discuss your punishment after Madam Pomfrey has a look at this scratch." She waved her wand and a handkerchief appeared, which she handed to Sirius to stop the bleeding. "Argus, now that I've taken these two off your hands, perhaps you can do something about the regurgitating toilet on the second floor?"
The caretaker grumbled something Sirius didn't catch, shot the boys a vindictive look and wandered away. Sirius suspected their little run-in with Mrs. Atwood would cost them in the future.
"So Professor," James said as they walked along to the hospital wing. "What'll it be this time? Lines? The trophy room? Perhaps a shot at cleaning the Quidditch locker rooms?"
"I fear you would get far too much enjoyment out of that last task," she told him. "And I suspect regular punishments don't have much effect on the pair of you. I suppose I will have to get more creative." She paused. "I don't suppose you have an excuse prepared for why you were wandering the halls two hours past curfew?"
Sirius laughed. "Would you go easy on us if we did?"
She shot him a look, but he swore there was a little tug of a smile at the edge of her lip. Yes, a tiny little tug. He suspected Professor McGonagall was a better sport than her prim exterior suggested.
/
Sirius and James racked up another detention being caught by Filch, and so Friday night it was just Remus and Peter in the dorm. Remus was somewhat grateful for this - he tackled his homework without distractions.
It was obvious that James and Sirius were on their way to being the best of friends. They were almost always together, and could maintain a conversation about anything and everything. To Remus it seemed as though they could read each other's minds, for one almost always seemed to know what the other one was about to say.
It wasn't surprising, really. Both James and Sirius were bright boys from wealthy pureblood families - their upbringing was probably somewhat similar. However while the Potters seemed to dote on their son, the Blacks seemed strict to the point of tyranny. Sirius had not approached Remus to discuss it again, but the Howler still weighed heavily on Remus' mind. Sirius' sorting had cost him, and though he acted like his treatment by the Slytherins was just a frustration, Remus suspected it cut far deeper than he let on. He wondered how much of Sirius' personality was a shield, an act to protect himself from further hurt.
And then there was James, their fearless leader. He wasn't sleeping well. Remus had not brought it up, but he'd heard the boy tossing and turning behind his curtains almost every night. Sometimes the curtains would flutter suddenly, like something behind them had just sat up abruptly. And one night, Remus swore he heard the boy calling out for his mother in his sleep. Remus wondered if James had nightmares.
Remus adored them for these vulnerabilities. It made him feel better to know that even the most gregarious people sometimes struggled with their emotions. Remus himself did a lot of struggling - choking down his persistent, pulsing fear every single day and trying to interact with the world as if he were a normal child and not a werewolf. Even if James and Sirius did not know the truth, they made it easier just by being there. Remus would look for ways to ease his friends' trials the same way they eased his with their friendship.
"Remus, fancy a game of chess?" Peter's voice called him out of his musings.
"So you can beat me again?" he asked, though he closed his Astronomy book and walked over to Peter's bed. The boy was grinning and already had the set ready to go.
"What do you make of classes so far Remus?" Peter asked as they began the game.
"I really like Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic," Remus told him. "Those subjects are fascinating."
"I don't know how you stay awake during History of Magic," Peter told him, directing a pawn forward. "Binns is so boring."
"Binns is boring - but the subject matter isn't!" Remus insisted. "Our history textbook may be one of my favorites."
Peter glanced away from the board to look at him. "But you're doing well in every subject so far, aren't you?"
Remus shrugged, hoping he came off as humble. "I'm doing relatively well. But I certainly have to put in more effort than James and Sirius!" The pair only took occasional notes and rushed through their homework at the last possible minute, but they always seemed to have the answer when called on and in every practical they seemed to excel.
"I think you're just as clever as James and Sirius," Peter said. "You're just a better behaved student."
"Thank you, Peter," Remus said, blushing faintly. He had not been expecting such praise.
"I have to ask though...why don't you ever speak up in class?" Peter moved a bishop and looked into Remus' eyes. "You always have the answers but you never take the credit."
Remus felt his cheeks redden further, this time not in pleasure. Peter was right - he did not raise his hand in class, even though he almost always knew the answer. He did not want to draw more attention to himself than necessary, because then it may be more noticeable when he disappeared every month. It may cost him in participation marks, but if a professor picked up on his inevitable pattern of absences, it would cost a great deal more.
"I suppose I'm just a little shy," he lied. "I don't want to run the risk of being wrong and making a fool of myself in front of everybody." He moved his knight to avoid Peter's bishop.
"You'd never make a fool of yourself," Peter said, shaking his head as he stared at the bored. "That's my job."
"Whatever do you mean?" Remus asked.
It was Peter's turn to shrug. "You three are all too brilliant to notice that I'm the slowest in the class."
"Oh Peter, that's not true. You're great at Herbology!"
"Fat lot of good Herbology does me," Peter grumbled, moving his queen. "I still can't do anything right in Transfiguration and I can only do the most basic charms. Checkmate."
"Checkmate?" Remus looked down. Sure enough, Peter had beaten him once again. He sighed, then returned to the conversation at hand. "Herbology does plenty of good - it's especially useful in healing and potions, from what Professor Sprout has told us. And you'll catch up in the other subjects. We've only just begun."
"Do you really believe that?" Peter was fidgeting and avoiding Remus' eyes.
"Of course I do," Remus told him. "And I'm happy to help you anytime you need." Indeed he was - anything to help a friend. Peter was not stupid - his chess skills were proof of that - he just needed more practice.
"Thanks Remus." Peter smiled. "You're such a good friend. The best I've ever had, in fact."
Remus beamed back at him. The words meant more than Peter would ever know.
/
"Sirius, you need to clean your crap up!" James shouted at the other boy after for the third time he'd stepped on a magical firework, setting it off and burning through the sole of his shoe. It was Saturday and the boys were lounging in the dorm. James was fed up. He'd sat detention with Sirius the night before without complaint and without resentment, but the state of the dormitory had been stressing him out for a week. It seemed the house elves dusted and saw to the bedclothes every day, but left the children to their own devices otherwise.
"Potter - I was going to set that off at lunch," Sirius complained, completely ignoring the issue at hand.
"You're not going anywhere or doing anything until you contain this mess to your area of the room!" James told him sharply. "Even if we have to bar the door. Right Remus?" But James' confidence in his pronouncement faltered when he took a good look at Remus' area. It wasn't full of anything dangerous or dirty like Sirius' fireworks or discarded boxers, but there were books and bits of parchment everywhere. Remus himself was sitting on the bed, entirely surrounded by books and a quill poised over a piece of parchment that was laying flat on a book he was balancing on one knee.
"Errr…" Remus said. "You should try to clean up, Sirius," he said lamely.
James sighed. "What's wrong with you two? Don't your parents ever make you clean your rooms at home?"
"We have a house elf for that," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "Think I can convince one of the Hogwarts elves to do this for me?"
"Not if they value their limbs," James commented, taking off his ruined shoe and throwing it at the other boy. Sirius caught it and turned to Peter.
"Petey, how much do I have to pay you to clean this up for me?"
The other boy looked at the area critically. "Twenty galleons."
"What?! That's highway robbery!"
"I don't know - there are fireworks and dirty boxers, and whatever that thing is looks like it's growing fungus," James said. "Seems a reasonable price to me."
"Why aren't you bothering Remus about his area?" Sirius whined.
"As I just mentioned - your stuff is growing fungus. If Remus wants to run the risk of dying in a landslide of books that's his problem," James said. "Books don't explode." He was putting his foot down on this one - the mess was truly getting to the point that he feared a rogue firework was going to set the bed hangings on fire and someone was going to die a painful death.
"Fine, fine," Sirius said. He stood up, grabbed his wand off his nightstand and waved it in the air. At once his belongings began to wiggle and zoom around, but he clearly hadn't mastered the spell because things began crashing around everywhere.
"Why can't you just pick them up by hand?" James asked as he narrowly dodged a book that was aiming for his head. Remus had closed the curtains of his bed for protection, and Peter dove under his own for safety. James danced around the flying objects and grabbed Sirius' wand hand. The disturbance caused everything to freeze and fall to the ground. "Look, you've made it even worse."
"Why are you so keen to take the fun out of everything today, Potter?" Sirius asked him, looking put out. "It's a beautiful Saturday - we should go outside and explore the grounds - maybe pop over to Hagrid's. I don't want to trapped inside all day."
James opened his mouth to say no, but paused, tempted by the idea of a meeting up with the massive gamekeeper. But if let Sirius run out on this now, the situation would only get worse.
"A half hour of cleaning, then we go outside," he finally compromised.
"Deal!" Sirius said as Peter crawled out from under his bed and Remus pulled open the drapes. James went to sit over by Remus, careful not to tread on any books as he navigated the space.
"I'm pretty sure you're the only person he listens to," Remus said conversationally as he moved a few books over so James could sit. "Including the teachers."
James shrugged. "My father always said that sometimes a strong-willed horse just needs a firm hand. Sirius is the same way."
"I'm not sure he'd like being compared to a horse," said Peter, who was also coming to join them.
"Probably not, but it's accurate," Remus said. "He's like a stallion who refuses to break."
"I can hear you three, you know!" Sirius called over. "And why a horse? Why not a dragon? Or a manticore?"
"Manticores are highly dangerous magical beasts that eat humans," James told him. "And you can't breathe fire. But you are belligerent and think you're unstoppable - until something stops you. Kind of like a baby dragon." Remus and Peter laughed and Sirius threw James' destroyed shoe back at him.
James just caught it and laughed. He turned to Remus. "You know, don't take this the wrong way, but I'm kind of surprised by all the clutter over here. Your notes are so organized - I kind of assumed that would translate over into everything else."
Remus shrugged. "I've always like to read two or three books at once, so I'd keep them all close to my bed at home. I guess I got a little overexcited at the library and took out a few more than usual…"
James took a good look around, counting. "Remus...there are 28 books here. You mean to tell me you're reading all of them?"
"Pretty much."
"You're mad," James told him, but he was actually impressed. Remus always seemed like he was looking to get his hands on every piece of magical information Hogwarts had to offer, and he appeared to be succeeding.
Enticed by the promise of getting outside, Sirius did a surprisingly thorough job of cleaning his space in 20 minutes. "Can we go now?" He asked impatiently.
James surveyed the area with a critical eye, but it was a perfectly acceptable job. "All right, to Hagrid's then." He grinned.
As the foursome meandered down toward the gamekeeper's cabin something caught James' eye.
"What's that?" He asked, looking to the outcropping where the Whomping Willow stood alone.
"The Whomping Willow of course. Are you having a senior moment Potter?" Sirius asked
"Under the willow, you prat," James said, swatting him. He'd spotted indentations in the soil near the tree that looked like footprints. But students had been warned to stay away from the tree, which was supposedly dangerous. Forgetting caution, he began striding over to examine them.
"James!" Remus called after him, but James knew he was faster and Remus would just have to catch up. Sirius was only a few strides behind him and quickly reached his side.
"What did you spot, Potter?" he asked.
"They look like foot- yow!" James ducked as a branch came flying out of nowhere, despite the fact that there was no wind. "What in the -"
"Watch it," Sirius advised, hopping back to avoid another, smaller branch swinging out toward him. A few twigs brushed his robes.
"This thing moves on its own?" James asked, also jumping back so he was out of range.
"Whomping willows are sentient beings," Remus said, having caught up. "Very, very territorial sentient beings. Weren't you paying attention to the headmaster's speech at the beginning of the term?"
James shrugged. "A bit." In truth he'd spaced out halfway through the headmaster's speech during the feast. "But then how do you explain those footprints?"
"What footprints?" Sirius shaded his eyes with his hand and squinted for a better look.
"Down right near the trunk. Don't you see them?"
"I can't see anything from right here," Remus said. "It just looks like dirt."
"There are footprints!" James insisted, pointing. "Black sees them, don't you?"
But Sirius just shrugged. "Maybe you need new glasses, Potter. I don't see much of anything but a mess of dirt."
There were deep cuts in the soil all around the willow - James hadn't considered this before but now that he realized the tree was capable of movement he imagined the uneven tracks and disturbed soil was a result of the massive plant swinging its heavy branches around. The branches hung down almost to the ground, and admittedly it was hard to see through the foliage that was slowing falling off in the autumn cool.
But James was still sure of what he saw. "There are footprints," he said again stubbornly. "Someone got right up to the trunk. We should give it a try."
Sirius shook his head. "If they did, then they wound up in a bed in the hospital wing for their trouble." The tree shivered as if to emphasize his point. "I'm all for exploring Potter - but what's there but the trunk of a tree?"
"It doesn't seem worth the risk, does it James?" James had forgotten Peter was behind them and jumped a bit at the sound of his voice.
"Absolutely not," Remus said firmly, in a tone of voice James rarely heard from his soft-spoken friend. "Can't we just go see Hagrid?"
"And Cooper!" Sirius said excitedly. "I'm trying to teach him to play fetch!"
James shrugged, temporarily defeated by the majority rule. "Fine, let's go." He said. But he was positive the marks at the foot of the tree were footprints. And if someone else could get right up to the tree, why not give it a shot himself? He always liked a good challenge.