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"We slaughtered 'em, we slaughtered 'em!"
James grinned as he was hoisted onto the shoulders of two burly seventh years, held above the crowd. All he could see was a sea of red clad supporters winding their way up to the Gryffindor tower, ready for a very raucous party. Even McGonagall, who was so hard to impress even with what James considered to be his magnificent sense of humour, had taken her hat off and allowed a first year to pin a Gryffindor rosette to her chest. He had never seen her look so amused in his life.
"Here!" someone yelled from along the hall, "let's cheer on our new captain!"
"For not being as big a turd as Albie Dennison," another voice added, and there was a huge cheer before a loud chorus of "For he's a jolly good fellow" hit the air.
James couldn't say he wasn't enjoying this sense of pride. Being a captain obviously did have its highlights, and for the first time he could see why Dennison's head might have been so swollen. "Oi, put me down, lads," he said, patting the two seventh years' heads. They had reached the seventh floor and the portrait of the Fat Lady was in sight. The boys obliged and allowed him to walk the rest of the way to the common room, falling into conversation about the game.
James weaved through to find Sirius, who currently had his arm around a very giggly blonde girl James didn't recognise. "Alright?" he asked lazily, causing the girl to let out an almost hysterical shriek of laughter. Sirius glanced sideways at her before returning to smirk at James. "How's the magisterial treatment of captaincy suiting you?"
"Fantastically," James replied, ruffling his hair. "It's actually quite easy to see why Albie Dennison had such a huge ego."
"It's a good job your ego's small," a sarcastic voice from his other side joined, and he turned to see a tired looking Remus, a striking grey against the otherwise scarlet supporters. "If yours was any bigger the solar system would orbit you."
"You often say the universe revolves around me," replied James, giving a debonair flick of the wrist. Remus sighed, before clutching his head.
"Are you okay?" All satire had dropped from James's voice as he looked genuinely concerned at his friend.
"Yeah, I think so," Remus replied, shaking his head slowly. "I feel a bit dizzy but..."
"Is it that time of the month?" Sirius asked with contempt. Remus forced a fake laugh to humour the blonde girl, before murmuring "No, it's far from it."
An expression briefly washed over Sirius's features before he composed himself. He smiled at the blonde and gave her a gentle shove towards the portrait hole. "I'll meet you inside." Grabbing the two boys he instead turned to pull them from the crowd, which turned out to be a surprisingly easier feat than he had deemed possible.
"What's up, Rem?" James asked, as soon as they had freed themselves from the stampede of people, concern etched on his face. He put a hand on Remus's shoulder.
Remus gritted his teeth. "I don't know. I've just... my head's killing me."
"Maybe you're coming down with something?" Sirius suggested with a frown. James nodded in support.
"Yeah," Remus agreed, rubbing a spot above his left eye gingerly. "I think I just need an early night."
"No chance of that," Sirius said, smiling though his eyes still looked a little creased. "I think this party could last the weekend through."
"It won't," James said, also grinning. "McGonagall'll do her nut if it does." He turned to look at Remus, clapping his shoulder. "Come on, Moony. Maybe if you have a drink you'll feel better."
"Okay," Remus said, inhaling deeply. "We'll see."
"Were you truly wafted here from paradise?"
Bellatrix gritted her teeth and furrowed her brow, hand slipping into her robes to secure around her wand. Slowly, she turned to face the male voice behind her.
It was a man, a man in his thirties she assumed, with an awkward fringe and hair much longer and shaggier than it should have been, like many of those 'rock stars' she saw advertised in London. A turtle necked green jumper hugged his torso, flared denim jeans on his legs. He screamed muggle to Bellatrix.
She tilted her head to the side and gave her best dazzling smile. "I don't know. Was I?"
He grinned and moved closer towards her. "Not a Campari fan then?"
Bellatrix shrugged and smiled. "What's Campari?"
He was now so close she could smell him; her nose wrinkled slightly as she detected strong aftershave and the mingling smell of diesel petrol. "How about I take you for a drink and show you, gorgeous?"
Bellatrix couldn't think of a worse idea. "What's your name?"
"Max," he replied, and she could feel his breath on her cheek. "And yours, pussy-cat?"
"Well, Max," she said coldly, "I don't take well to scum who treat superiors with such little respect."
"What the heck?"
She gave a venomous chuckle, before pulling out her wand. "Crucio!"
Max fell to his knees with a sickening crunch, head rocking backwards. Bellatrix watched with a nasty smile imprinted on her face. He looked up, gritting his teeth.
"You bitch," he said sourly through ragged breath. "You..."
"Goodbye Max," Bellatrix said loudly, before a flash of green light siphoned through the air and Max slumped into a deathly still pile.
Bellatrix poked him with her toe. When no movement was registered, she beamed, before turning back to her work in the warehouse.
Pulling the sleeve of her left arm back to her elbow, she pressed the tip of her wand to the inked pattern spreading on her forearm.
Immediately the snake began writhing as if trying to burst from her skin; she gave a small chuckle and closed her eyes, biting her lip.
The doors to the warehouse opened behind her. Bellatrix opened her eyes and turned.
"Well?"
"My Lord," she said, weaving her hands together and grinning widely. "We know where the diary is."
"Affle fie'sh deli-shuh."
"What was that?"
Sirius took a huge gulp and smiled. "Apple pie. Delicious."
Mary wrinkled her nose. "Brilliant."
"Have some," Sirius said, cutting a piece of his pie off with the edge of his spoon and lifting it to Mary's face, who recoiled almost immediately.
"I'm not sharing your spoon," she snapped. "You might have an illness."
"Oh," Sirius said, smirking. "Charming. I notice you never complained whenever we..." He wiggled his eyebrows.
Mary looked disgusted. "We snogged. Once. You are such a dickhead."
"I pride myself on that fact." Sirius grinned as Mary pushed her chair back and jumped to her feet. James took her seat instead, eyes following the brunette as she wandered off towards her gaggle of female friends, apparently going to tell them her outrage at Sirius. "How you ever manage to get girlfriends when you act so misogynistic is a wonder."
"That's a big word," Sirius replied with a sugary smile. "Pie?"
James took the spoon from his friend and tried the pudding without a second thought. "Ahhhhh, fosh, deli-shuh."
"I said that," Sirius said, sweeping his hair back from his face. "Mary didn't agree."
"Whaff she know?" He swallowed and pulled Sirius's plate towards him. "So, basically, with such a stunning victory under our belts..."
"Albie Dennison's bleeding through," Sirius said with a small smile. James rolled his eyes and continued.
"Well, anyway. Because we've done so well, we need to do some more practice. We have to beat our previous score, we must excel."
"Huzzah." Sirius stopped and looked horrified. "More practice?"
"Yup." James cut another spoonful from the plate.
"We do e-bloody-nough already."
"We need more."
"We bloody don't," Sirius snapped. "It's getting colder. I don't want to go outside even more than already." He pulled his plate back. "We don't need to do practice. We're all flipping healthy because of marching up to the bloody seventh floor every day."
"Alright, point proven."
"Thank you." Sirius shoved another spoonful of pie into his mouth and chewed violently. James rolled his eyes and rocked back, putting his feet up on the coffee table they sat at. A book slammed down next to them, and both flinched a little.
"Make your entrance known, why don't you," James said with a snort as Remus pulled a seat next to him out. "I thought you were getting an early night."
"Sod that," Remus snapped, and he flicked the book open, tracing his finger along some Celtic looking writing. "I can't sleep with all the bloody noise."
"So you're deciding to study instead?" Sirius smirked at James. Remus clucked his tongue.
"I'm reading up."
"About?"
Remus blushed a little. "Mystery silhouettes."
"What?" Sirius asked, dropping his spoon into his plate. "I'd forgotten about that. I'll bet you anything that it was just some Slytherin snooping around."
"I've seen it more than once."
"You've what?"
"Whilst I'm thoroughly enjoying your little conversation," James interjected, "do either of you want to explain what the bloody hell it's about?"
Sirius met his curious gaze and brushed his jumper. "We saw this silhouette once while we were sitting outside. Apparently Remus and it have a history."
"So someone's stalking you?" James asked, rubbing his forehead.
"Someone or something," Remus replied with a nod. "I have no idea what though." He lifted the book slightly. "This is what I'm researching."
Sirius jutted his lip and nodded slowly, craning over to have a look. "How many times you seen it?"
"Twice."
James snorted. "Only twice? That's hardly anything to go on."
"It's the circumstances that are weird," Remus replied. "I saw it in my back garden when Sirius arrived in the summer. I saw it when I was sitting outside with Sirius."
"So?" James said with a sigh. "The first silhouette was probably my Dad. The second was probably some creep like Snape. In fact, I'll bet it was Snape, just trying to get you two into more shit. Obviously nothing to worry about." He stood up, smiled, and straightened his clothes. "Well, I must say chaps, I'm cream crackered. So I'm off to bed. Au revoir."
Once he was out of earshot, Remus turned to Sirius. "What do you think? Do you think that's weird?"
Sirius shrugged with a slightly uneasy expression. "I'm not sure. I mean... he could have a point, you know. It could have just been Charlus or Drom or even me you saw... but..."
"I know it wasn't Sirius, I know what the three of you look like," Remus snapped. He closed the book and put his head on it. "I have such a headache."
"Seriously Remus, do you think you should go to the hospital wing?" Sirius asked, a sudden shot of concern saturating his voice. "You don't look well at all."
"I'm fine," Remus snapped. "Leave me alone."
"Fine then," Sirius replied coolly. "Don't come whining to me in the morning."
"Bugger off, Sirius."
"You know where the diary is." The dark haired, waxy skinned man in front of Bellatrix smiled slightly, licking his top lip.
Bellatrix nodded eagerly. "We have pinpointed its whereabouts. The Lestrange brothers are on the case at the moment. It is in the possession of a Mr Andrew Doford, it seems."
"It seems," repeated the man, nodding slightly. Bellatrix beamed in response. "So you do not know for sure."
"I'm positive it belongs to this man," Bellatrix said, her smile faltering a little. "And if it doesn't, we'll track it to the next location."
"So, you're not even of complete certainty as to its current position," the man said, smile growing wider. "Then explain to me, Bellatrix, why you thought it a good idea to summon me?"
A small pout appeared on Bellatrix's face. "My Lord, you requested that we contact you as soon as we knew anything."
The man sighed heavily. "I understand. You have done well, Bellatrix."
Bellatrix's beam was restored; she fell into a sort of enthusiastic curtsey. "Thank you, my Lord."
"But," the man said, cutting her off, meeting her eager eyes, "do not summon me until you have it. I will not take well to failure."
Bellatrix nodded vigorously. "I won't fail you, my Lord."
The smile on the man's waxy face glittered.
Unable to bare the heat of the dormitory any longer, Remus disentangled himself from the twisted sheets and slipped on the tatty old pair of slippers at the foot of his bed, heading as quietly as he could to the bathroom. He could hear Peter's heavy breathing, see Sirius hanging half out of bed in a way that Remus had never been able to understand how he slept. James lay in the makeshift hammock he and Sirius had constructed once between their two beds, one leg hanging a few feet above where Demetrius Figg had collapsed beneath him.
It was cooler in the bathroom; the window was on the vent, cool air seeping through. Splashing cold water over his face, Remus inhaled deeply, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He looked pale as usual, fringe damp from the water, eyes shadowed with tiredness. Just thinking about the bags made him yawn; he sighed and turned to look through the window.
His stomach went cold.
"What do you want?" he whispered, aware of his pulse picking up.
Slowly, the silhouette raised a hand, and pointed straight at Remus.
His stomach plummeted.
There you are! :D
Rocky
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