"Proof!" Sirius yelped as McGonagall seized him by the ear. "Show me the proof!"
"After as many years of teaching as I have had, Mr. Black, one develops certain powers of deductive reasoning. Stay right where you are, Mr. Potter, I have every confidence that you are not innocent."
James did nothing to deny it as he froze in his tracks. The stare of a basilisk had nothing on an angry Minerva McGonagall. And really, Sirius was just being dramatic. Their robes were soaking wet — they'd left a trail of footsteps in their wake as they searched feverishly for Remus and his charm-work to dry them out. Unfortunately, their Head of House caught up with them first.
McGonagall looked ready to breathe enough fire to dry the two troublemakers out, and then some. "What," she asked icily, "possessed you to not only go into the girl's lavatory—"
"It's not like there were any living girls in their with their robes up!" Sirius protested. James winced in sympathy as McGonagall tightened her grip on the miscreant's ear.
"And then," she continued ruthlessly, "deliberately antagonize the poor girl in the bathroom to the extent that she proceeded to flood the plumbing all the way into the dungeons and the Slytherin common room? Explain yourselves!"
James wisely said nothing about how they hadn't antagonized Myrtle at all — she liked James and Sirius, in fact. She had been in on this particular prank: the flooding of the Slytherin common room being, after all, the objective. The boys had met Myrtle last year; James and Sirius had been running from Filch, and taken refuge in that particular out-of-order bathroom. Myrtle enjoyed their visits, and they often used her bathroom for the somewhat-illicit activities that their dorm would possibly not survive. Everyone was used to odd noises coming from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, anyhow.
"I believe the word you're looking for is 'overreaction', Professor," he said instead, solemnly. Professor McGonagall's eyes snapped and James hurriedly went on. "Well, obviously it was a mistake that we went into the girls' bathroom, and then we realized what it was, and Moaning Myrtle must have gotten all offended that we didn't seem to care about her death story, she's very dramatic, you know…"
McGonagall stared at him as if she wasn't sure whether to laugh or dock him a million points. Finally she compromised with "You will both receive detention tonight, though I'm not sure why I still bother. I suppose I hold onto the idealistic hope that enough hours of drudgery will hammer some modicum of repentance into your minds. You will report to Madame Pince in the library at eight o'clock, I'm sure she will have quite a few books for you to sort and shelve." She finally turned Sirius' ear loose. "I will be most displeased if we have this conversation again, Potter, Black."
"As always, Professor," James said cheekily, before he and Sirius darted away, ducking into the secret passageway they'd been aiming for five minutes ago before she could call them back and take points. They pelted along the small corridor, snickering hysterically, until they reached the Gryffindor common room.
Remus looked up in mild surpise when the two disheveled, sopping mischief-makers collapsed with him in front of the fire. "Dare I ask?"
"'Course you dare, you're a Gryffindor," Sirius declared, clapping Remus on the shoulder. Remus winced slightly and edged away, dragging an almost-complete essay. "You're both wet."
James ignored the obvious statement and sighed with relief. "Nice to get these chairs," he remarked.
"I believe that the rest of the House is still too wary to sit in them if even one of us is present in the common room," Remus pointed out with an amused twitch of his lips.
"Oh, right." James grinned reminiscently. Funnily enough, their finest prank of last year had been on their own House: tired of being kicked out of the good armchairs, the four best friends had set up a clever long-term tickling charm which attacked anyone who tried to sit in the preferred armchairs. Harmless and simple, but endlessly entertaining and highly effective "There are lots of chairs," Sirius had pointed out at the time, reveling in his favorite wide, squashy seat. "If someone else wants to claim dibs, they should just be cleverer than we are. I'd cede rights — until we came up with something better, anyway."
"So," Remus asked, idly flicking through his History of Magic textbook in search of a quote for his essay. "How did it go, and what's the verdict?"
"Absolutely smashing, Myrtle was brilliant, and we have one detention," Sirius reported.
Remus looked up again in astonishment. "One? That's all?"
James nodded proudly. "I think McGonagall dearest was actually impressed by our resourcefulness. And after all, technically, it wasn't us. We just got ratted on for being in her bathroom in the first place." He sighed. "If the world were free of tale-tellers…"
"I'm not one to say I told you so," Remus began, "but I did suggest the Invisibility Cloak."
Sirius shot him an irritated look. "Very well, next time we shall heed the infinite wisdom that you spout for our betterment. Happy?"
"Ecstatic," Remus murmured.
"Great. Now, what's the charm for drying out our robes?"
…
Thud.
"Ouch!"
"Quiet in the library!"
Sirius glared accusingly at his best friend, rubbing the back of his head. James sorted through the bin of books like some sort of library angel, looking for all the world to be innocent of any crime such as might involve a light hardback and Sirius' skull.
"This is not Quidditch practice, you'll find, Mr. Chaser," Sirius hissed pointedly.
James' returning grin was brief and bright. "I was expecting you to hit it back, Mr. Beater."
"Reserve Beater, and it would help if I had any knowledge of its existence before it came into abrupt contact with my head."
"Stop your whinging, we're nearly done now," James said encouragingly. He rose to his feet and stretched massively, trying to shake away nearly three hours in the quiet, dusty shelves. He picked up a stack of books and trudged toward their destination. Sirius stifled a groan and began to sort through yet another stack of his own. This could be the last one, thank Merlin. Serving time in the library was one of his least favorite detentions— though at least it was clean. There were a few mildewy books, but that was far and away better than scrubbing bedpans or sorting through dead flobberworms for Potions classes. It was the monotony that really got to Sirius, but luckily James was there to take most of that away — as much as anyone could when overseen by a mummy who put slave drivers to shame.
"Sirius," James said abruptly, "what d'you think is wrong with Remus?"
Sirius paused in putting away the books, and stretched his arms. "I dunno." He glanced at his fellow troublemaker. "But I thought we agreed last year it wasn't our business? I mean, it's obvious he lies, but he has to have a good reason."
"I know," James agreed. Sirius noticed that he hadn't moved from his position kneeling on the floor, the same book in his hands for the past few minutes.
"What is that?" Sirius asked slowly.
"He was gone on Sunday," James muttered, "and the twenty-sixth, when we had the Great Weasel Disaster in Transfiguration… am I right?"
"Yeah, so?"
James turned around and showed Sirius the book. It was open to a lunar chart of that year. Sirius threw James a skeptical look, then leaned forward to examine the charts. The two dates James had specified were both full moons.
Sirius frowned. "Um… I repeat: so?"
James sighed and shoved the book into its place on a shelf. "I don't know yet, Sirius, but don't you think that… I mean…"
Sirius pulled him up and around. "James Potter, tell me what you're thinking."
James' miserable hazel eyes met Sirius' confused grey ones. "I think he's in trouble, Sirius," he said very quietly, "and I think we need to help." He turned his arm gently out of Sirius' grasp. "C'mon, let's get this done with."
They were almost finished with their detention, stacking books in the Defense section, when Sirius dropped a book in shock. James glanced up hi alarm, but the evil librarian did not appear. Ordinarily Sirius would have seized the opportunity to make a very disturbing and inappropriate joke, but his mind was already reeling.
He picked up the book on Dark creatures. Silently he showed James the front cover: a gruesome sketch of a man turning into a wolf under the full moon. James' face looked pale in the dim light as he nodded. Sirius glanced around for the evil incarnate again before he stuffed the book deep into his school bag.
James tossed him another book, a fierce expression on his face. "Whatever we find," he hissed, "he's still Remus."
Sirius swallowed, and then nodded firmly. His parents would tell him how dangerous and sub-human his half-blood friend already was. Sirius would object, because Remus was one of the best people he knew. Then his mother's ringed hand would smack across his face.
Sirius inhaled deeply, concentrating on the smell of musty books and the lingering damp whiff of bathroom water clinging to himself and James. He shook his head to clear it of the dark, dank halls and rooms of Grimmauld Place. "Yeah," he murmured. "He's still Remus. And I hope for all our sakes we're wrong."
Author's note: yes indeed, to yesterday's one and only reviewer, ., The Talk is fast approaching (I hope I'm not the only child who giggles at the thought of calling it that.) It was going to be later, but I decided to move it up — because, as you pointed out, it took them a while to become Animagi. So I figure they should have as much time as possible — plus, that was in fact the first moment I wrote for this collection. I'll have to change it a little to fit, but I like the way it turned out. So then, til tomorrow!
Also, if anybody has any pranks/jokes/scenes they would like to see, let me know and I'll work it in. It's nice to get fresh ideas.
