Chapter Eleven: Missed Meals
"Have you guys seen Snape today?" said Peter as he fell into the common room.
"Why would we want to?" retorted James lazily.
"Aside from pranking him," interjected Sirius.
"Well, yes. Aside from that."
"You've got to see this." insisted Pettigrew, grabbing hold of James'arm and starting to pull. Sadly, due to his weak nature and James'time spent holding on to a broom for dear life, James went nowhere.
"Why have we got to see Snape? We know what he looks like."
"Greasy hair, hooked nose, pile of books. Have I missed anything, Noble?"
"Nope. And you were right, it doesn't work."
Sirius punched the air, happy at being proved right. Quickly he pulled out a list and using his discarded quill crossed another name off the rapidly shortening nickname list.
"Hey guys. What's going on?" said Remus as he came down the stairs from their collective dorm, "Why are you trying to pull James out of his seat ... what am I supposed to call you again?"
"Because they have to see Snape," the small boy left off tugging futilely at James and sidled over to Remus, "Something's gone wrong." he whispered.
"Wrong?" Remus frowned, "What sort of wrong?"
"And it's 'Wormtail' don't forget, Remus." called James, ignoring the boy on his sleeve.
"If you'd come see…"
"Fine!" Sirius exclaimed, throwing down his half written four foot essay, "If you're that desperate for us to leave our hard work and follow you on an escapade to see Snape, then I guess we have no choice but to follow."
With that statement Sirius gestured for Peter to lead the way and headed for the portrait hole of the Gryffindor common room. Remus shared a look of 'when Sirius gets hold of an idea he doesn't let go' with James before both boys trooped after the pair.
xxxxxx
The four boys peered out from round various bookshelves, all sets of eyes focused on one sight: that of Severus Snape, resident victim. Simultaneously all heads drew back and the Marauders gathered into a tight knit group, voices lowered so they wouldn't be overheard in the near-silent library.
"You see!" squeaked Pete.
"That's brilliant."
"Did we do that?"
"He mustn't have been at the feast."
The last comment came from Remus who, rather than the grins on the faces of the black-haired boys, had a concerned look; one which he normally reserved for when something was about to blow up. Sirius sobered up immediately, he'd been the cause of that look to many times not to take notice.
"Moony? Surely this is an amusing side effect of our strange but wonderful prank yesterday, no harm done."
"No harm done? Sirius Black, did you not listen to what I said before we started that prank?" Remus struggled to keep his voice low with all the annoyance running through it.
"Um. 'Don't get yourself killed'?"
"If you must?" suggested James.
"Only if there's chocolate?"
All heads turned to the currently nicknamed 'Wormtail', for although Remus'addiction to chocolate was well known amongst the four he had yet to agree to a bribe of the tasty stuff in return for his help on a prank.
"Sorry," muttered Peter.
"Would that work?" inquired James, referring to the chocolate bribe.
"That's hardly the point right now," said Remus, turning a light shade of red, "I said that we had to make sure everyone was in the great hall for the finale, because," Remus stressed the explanation as Sirius threatened to interrupt, "If someone's ghostly counterpart wasn't taken away by our spell it would attempt to replace the living person it was a reflection of. Hence Snape looking the way he does. He got caught."
The boys peeked round the shelves again, examining the phenomena before them in the light of Remus'words. There, a few tables away sat Snape just as Sirius had described him: shoulder length black greasy hair, unfortunate size of nose, and a pile of books hiding his notes from view. The major difference between Sirius'description and the real thing was that the Snape before them was translucent.
"Do you think if I throw a book at him it'll go right through him?" James mused.
Snape turned over a page, his eyes scanning the text before him. He seemed completely oblivious to his ghostly state, yet his solid quill could be seen through his pale fingers. His outline wavered as he reached for the ink pot then reformed as his arm stilled again. It was like watching a really old horror film out of focus.
"We have to do something." whispered Remus.
"Why?" asked Sirius, uncomprehendingly.
"Because," Remus drew back and fixed the three boys with his patented 'you will do as I tell you' stare, "If we don't fix this within a few days Snape will…"
"Spit it out Moony. He'll what? Be stuck as the male version of Myrtle forever?"
"He'll die."
"What? Why?"
"You never mentioned that in your lecture before hand!"
"Shhh." Madam Pince glowered at the four over her spectacles as their voices disturbed the silent rustling of paper.
James indicated with his head that they should leave before they got into more serious trouble with the woman. As silently as four teenage boys could, they traipsed out into the corridor. Finding a stone bench Pete, James and Remus sat down whilst Sirius paced in front of them. Though he didn't like Snape, Sirius saw no reason why he should die – mainly because he was a great victim for their pranks.
"Exactly what is happening to him?" Sirius questioned.
"The living and dead can't exist in the same place at the same time, not if it's the same person. One or the other has to fade out, which one does depends on which is stronger. That's why we can't normally see the mirror ghosts. Plus, if no physical contact is made, the living will is stronger." Remus looked up from his examination of the stone slabs at his feet, catching the intense thinking expression of his friend.
"Why did we do this prank again?" said James exasperatedly, "This seems like far too weird."
"Even for us," added Peter.
"We did it because it was a fantastic example of the Hallowe'en spirit, with the line blurring between living and dead," replied Sirius distractedly. He was pacing back and forth again, running one hand through his hair as he put his normally unused brain to work on something other than pranks.
"And now we have to save Snape?" James shook his head at the reversal of their situation.
Suddenly Sirius stopped and turned sharply, pointing a finger at Remus, "You said it's a contest between wills?"
"Yes." Remus replied, wondering where this was going.
"Then why isn't Snivellus fighting back?"
"You're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting, are you Snuffles?" James winced at the thought, though the name had possibilities.
"If it is the only way to save our beloved Snivellus, James, then we have no other choice."
"But it's Snape!"
"Out best victim."
"I repeat: Snape."
"Remember when we turned him multicoloured? Or when he was forced to hop all day? Or when…"
"Alright!" James snapped, the dreamy look of remembrance sliding off his face, "We'll do it."
Peter, whose head had been shuttling back and forth between the pair, spoke up, "Do what?"
"Get to know Snape." James said morosely.
"Wha?"
"We need to know why our dear victim is not fighting for his existence. Why, in short, he's giving up." Sirius smirked, "We're going Snape-stalking."
"Snape-stalking?" Remus said.
James got up and starting pacing round the still smirking boy, "Wormtail, you stay here and keep an eye on him," he gestured towards the library, "Remus and I will go talk to Lily,"
"Lily?"
"Lily, my wonderful, flame-haired, porcelain skinned goddess. She who lights up the room when she enters, who…"
SMACK! Sirius'hand clipped the back of James'head shocking him from his eloquent praise of his ever-refusing sweetheart.
"As I was saying," he continued, with a nasty look at Sirius, "Since Lily has been known to associate with the slimy bastard, and since somehow Moony here has cultivated a friendship with the wonderful female – which he will one day let me take advantage of - together he and I shall try to find out what the hell is wrong with Snape."
"And in the meantime what do you suggest I do, oh fearless leader?" Sirius stood to attention, the salute slightly spoilt by the huge grin plastered across his face.
"You, Private Snuffles, will have the dangerous project of finding information out about our subject from one potions professor."
Sirius' face fell; the potions professor, Slughorn, was a gregarious character who loved to 'get people started' on their careers, in return for baskets of fruit and cases of fine Bourbon. To this end he had his 'Slug Club' to which only the brightest and best of any year were invited. Sirius had been fortunate, or unfortunate depending on your liking of the 'Slug' himself, to be hunted out by Professor Slughorn for the past hour and a bit years. It had become a pastime of the Marauder's year group to see how Sirius would get out of the next invitation.
"Do I have to, James?" Sirius whined.
"Yes." James was determined; he had given into the Slug Club in his second year and knew what an interesting person the professor was, "For the chance of getting you into his Club Slughorn will give you any information you want."
Turning on his heel Sirius marched off down the corridor leaving the other three Marauders watching him go.
"If I have to join that club you will pay, Knob!," he called over his shoulder in a parting shot as he vanished round the corner.
James tried not to react to the hated, and already vetoed, name, "Shall we?" he said through gritted teeth, looking at Remus.
"You just want an opportunity to ask her again, don't you?"
"I'd be lying if I said no, so I won't."
The pair headed off in the opposite direction to Sirius, towards the Gryffindor common room and, hopefully, Lily Evans.
"I'll just wait here and keep watch then." murmured Peter to himself as he found himself alone. Getting up he made his way back into the library and a vantage point from which he could keep an eye on the ghostly Snape.
xxxxxx
Petter Pettigrew was bored. So bored in fact that he was eyeing up the textbooks opposite where he was sitting with possible interest. He'd been sitting in practically the same place for hours now; back against one dusty bookcase, short legs stretched out to meet the opposing one. Every now and then his eyes flicked over to an almost as still figure sitting at one of the library desks, but the frequency of his checks to see if Severus Snape still hadn't moved was decreasing.
He had few interests but the ones he did have he was passionate about. Top of his list was food. Food of any kind was something he could wax eloquent about; he could talk for hours about precisely how you should cook the perfect roast, or braise the richest steak. Out of all the meals of the day dinner had to be his favourite: all the different types of meat, vegetables, and puddings – he was in heaven when it came to dinner.
Which was why, along with being bored, Peter was getting steadily more and more frustrated. Lunch had been hours ago, and the minutes were ticking down to dinner. Yet Snape was still sitting at the desk scribbling away, showing no sign of moving towards getting that most needed and desired thing: food!
Peter dug into the voluminous pockets of his robe and began pulling out all the junk from within. A determined expression fell over his face as the pile of randomness grew in front of him; there was everything there: bits of string, a box of matches, five paperclips strung together, a stick, some leftover wrappers from various sweets, and a wild selection of potions ingredients. Sadly, what this pile of nonsense lacked was any form of edible food. For a moment he debated trying some of the potions ingredients, but after recalling what had happened last time (it involved James Potter, a large stick, and bright blue beetles) he decided against it.
Sighing he started the process of filling his pockets back up with the junk. As he did he happened to glance up, and what he saw stopped his movements dead – Snape was gone. Mr Severus Snape, Mr I'm happy to work without food for hours and hours, had vanished.
Panicking slightly the small boy stuffed what remained of the pile into one pocket and took off at a near run out of the library.
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