Chapter Fifty-Four: Autumn Days
On Monday, Professor Meyrigg was back at school looking rejuvenated and radiantly healthy. She went on to Red Caps that morning without a practical lesson on Doxies, saying that she rather thought the class was a little too talented to be wasting time with common household pests. This earned her a round of sardonic applause from James and Sirius. Rather than thanking them coolly as Professor McGonagall would have done, or docking points as Alfstin would have, Meyrigg smiled and bobbed a little curtsy, which earned her twin approving grins.
At lunch Remus waited expectantly for the speculations to begin, but Sirius really did seem to have lost interest in the teacher's weekly disappearances. As for James, he seemed to have lost interest in everything but occupants of the Hufflepuff table. He kept craning his neck at them, and shifting from side to side on the bench. When he almost tipped Peter over against Darius Jones, Sirius lost his patience.
'What in six kinds of custard are you doing, Potter?' he demanded.
'Can you see what Wendy Shaftsbury is eating?' James asked.
'How could I possibly see what Wendy Shaftsbury is eating?' Sirius asked. 'I know I'm phenomenally gifted, James, but I haven't got eyes sprouting from the back of my head.'
James rolled his eyes in annoyance. 'Would you turn around and look, smartknickers? You're closer than I am.'
Sirius twisted on the bench in a token attempt to look at the Hufflepuff girl. 'I'd say it's lunch,' he reported, turning back to his own meal.
'Some mate you are,' James said. 'Remus? Would you mind?'
Remus turned obediently, leaning a little so that he could catch a glimpse of the fourth year's plate. 'She's got a sandwich and a bowl of the pumpkin soup,' he said. 'And a cream cake. It looks like a perfectly ordinary lunch to me.'
'What kind of sandwich?' James asked, eying the nearest platter suspiciously.
'How's he supposed to tell that from here?' asked Sirius. 'And more importantly, why do we care?'
'You care because I care, and you're my friends,' James said primly, eyes twinkling behind his specs.
'Ah. And why, may I ask, do you care?'
'You're the one who's always saying we should know our enemy,' said James. 'In this case, I want to know what my enemy is having for lunch.'
'Wendy Shaftsbury is your enemy?' Sirius said sceptically, shooting another glance at the lanky fourth year with her cloud of golden curls. 'I see what you mean, Potter. She looks downright dangerous, she does.'
'She's Hufflepuff's new Chaser,' James said with exaggerated slowness. 'She's my rival, you idiot.'
Sirius grinned wickedly. 'You're nervous,' he said, wagging an accusatory finger at James. 'You're nervous about next Saturday's match.'
'Am not,' James said, squaring his shoulders and tossing his head. 'I'm just trying to be a helpful team member and gather reconnaissance for my captain.'
'Reconnaissance about what the other team's new Chaser is eating,' Sirius clarified. 'Face it, James: you're nervous.'
An agonized expression contorted the other boy's face, upsetting his glasses so they slid to the end of his nose. While James hurriedly pushed them back into place, letting his hand linger to obscure his face, Sirius reached across the table to pat his other arm.
'Don't worry, Potter. Your secret's safe with us,' he said. 'Well, us and Jones, that is.' He glared at the other boy, who had been listening to the conversation with avid interest. 'Right, Jones?'
'Ab-absolutely, Black,' stammered Darius, bowing over his plate and attacking his meal with fresh vigour. 'Didn't hear a thing, me.'
'Good,' Sirius said with a firm nod of approval. He grinned at James. 'See? We won't tell.'
'Thanks,' said James.
'And you and I are going to get in some practice,' said Sirius. 'It'll make you feel better.'
'But you haven't got a broomstick,' Peter pointed out. 'How are you going to help him practice?'
'I do have a broomstick,' Sirius said stiffly. 'It just isn't at school at the present time. Fortunately, Hogwarts has a whole shed full of brooms, ripe for the taking. I'll use one of those. Should give you a nice sense of security, James,' he added. 'I'll be going at a snail's pace on an original Cleansweep while you're zipping about on that Shooting Star of yours.'
James smiled enormously. 'Just what I need,' he said. 'If I'm convinced I'm unstoppable nobody will stop me. Mind over Hufflepuffs.'
Sirius snorted loudly into his pumpkin soup. 'Mind over Hufflepuffs,' he echoed in a gleeful undertone.
~discidium~
That afternoon when lessons were finished the four boys made their way out onto the grounds. Their first stop was the courtyard, where James and Peter busied themselves as far from the broom shed as possible, kicking piles of leaves with youthful abandon and generally making a cheerful ruckus. This had been Sirius's idea.
'Plausible deniability,' he had said. 'If anybody catches me nicking the broom you can say you had no idea what I was about, and you thought I'd borrowed it off of some Ravenclaw or something. That way there's no chance of you being put off the team or something. Besides, you can be the smokescreen; keep the eyes of the populace on you and off of me.'
Of course Sirius also needed a lookout, and it was that duty that Remus was to perform. He was only too happy to do so. It seemed fitting that he guard Sirius's back, since Sirius was only too ready to spring to his defence at any time and against anyone. It was a simple enough task anyhow. He strolled into the courtyard, checking to be sure that the coast was clear. Everyone in sight was either busy with their own affairs or else watching James and Peter in bewildered amusement. Remus let out a low whistle.
Sirius darted from the shadow of an archway, swift and sure and grinning enormously. He had his wand ready and the Invisibility Cloak in his pocket. After some deliberation it had been decided that he would not actually hide under the cloak himself: it was to be used to cover the abducted broomstick. In what Sirius described as a classic case of adult overconfidence, the shed door was locked with a simple charm that was just as simple to break. Sirius slipped inside and drew the door closed behind him. Remus leaned lazily against it, rubbing his hands as if to warm them and looking pensively up at the sky.
James and Peter now had several first and second years engaged in their game, much to the amusement of a group of sixth year girls who seemed to think the whole spectacle beyond adorable. Remus smiled to himself, thinking how indignant James would be to discover they found him cute. James caught his eye and frowned ever so slightly. Remus twitched his shoulders in a surreptitious shrug. He had no idea what was taking such a long time, but Sirius was certainly making a proper job of picking a broom.
At last the agreed-upon signal was heard: two soft, querying knocks on the inside of the door. Remus whistled again, and James nudged Peter, prompting him to redouble the noise. The other boys also playing in the fallen leaves leant to the power of the distraction, and Remus slipped his hand behind his back, rapping out the counter-sign before meandering casually away from the door. A moment later Sirius emerged, his left hand stiff and awkward and the tips of his fingers apparently missing. He nudged the door closed with his toe and then moved off to the cover of the archway. Remus made his way back towards the shed, resetting the locking charm. Then he retreated after Sirius, who was standing around the corner with the invisible broom cradled in his arms, grinning tremendously.
'Pretty sure I got the best of the lot,' he said. 'It's a Cleansweep Two and its twigs are in good shape. Ought to be able to give James a bit of a working-over, anyhow. I wonder—'
'What did you get?' James demanded, careening through the archway with Peter on his heals.
'Cleansweep Two,' Sirius said. 'The school really ought to invest in some better brooms.'
'We just need to work out a way to get yours up here,' James told him. 'Can't you have your uncle send it on or something?'
Sirius wrinkled his nose. 'He's in Guyana,' he said. 'Personally I'm surprised he didn't flee to Antarctica. He's persona non grata in my mother's books at the moment.'
'Travels a lot, doesn't he?' remarked James. 'Come on, let's get out there and fly! The daylight's a-wasting!'
James had offered a first year two Galleons to watch his Comet 220 and Remus's satchel while they procured the broom for Sirius. The little girl was waiting patiently on the steps of the castle, admiring the broomstick but studiously obeying the order not to touch it. James paid her and they retrieved their belongings and a Quaffle which James had transfigured from a loaf of bread nicked from the kitchens. Rather than heading towards the Quidditch pitch, where Hufflepuff was practicing, they made their way past the Whomping Willow to the broad swath of grass just south of Hagrid's hut. Remus sat down with his back to a large boulder, and Peter settled half a dozen paces away.
Sirius and James launched into the air, James brandishing the Quaffle. Remus watched for a while as they put one another through impressive aerial acrobatics. Sirius did not seem too hampered by the school broom, though he was certainly no match for James in terms of speed or agility. Nevertheless a sheen of perspiration appeared under the tousled black hair, and James had to pause twice to wipe his glasses on his sleeve.
After a while Remus lost interest in the gravity-defying feats above him, and he dug out his Charms essay. He was nearly through proofreading it and hoped to be able to write up his final copy tomorrow, well in time for Thursday's deadline. So engrossed was he in picking out his spelling mistakes and dangling participles that he did not notice James and Sirius had drawn a crowd until an overexcited Ravenclaw boy very nearly sat in his lap.
'Oh! I'm sorry…' the boy mumbled awkwardly, scrambling off to the side. Remus recognized him suddenly as the first year Sirius had driven from their compartment on the Hogwarts Express.
'It's quite all right,' he said earnestly. 'I'm Remus. How do you do?'
'I'm Davey,' the boy said, giggling a little; 'and only my grandmother says "How do you do?".'
'Your grandmother must be a very well-mannered lady, then,' said Remus. He rolled up his parchment and tucked it into his bag. 'How do you like Hogwarts?'
'It's wonderful!' sighed Davey, looking heavenwards and gasping with delight as James made an especially sharp turn. 'Oh, they're brilliant, aren't they? That's James Potter and Sirius Black, isn't it?'
Remus was mildly astonished. 'You've heard of them?'
'Everyone talks about them!' Davey enthused. If he remembered being snubbed by Sirius on the train he did not seem to mind it. 'They got rid of a teacher last year. And they made the Slytherin plates shriek. And they promised they'd hex that big kid who was picking on our girls.'
Remus had not heard of that particular incident, and he wondered whether it was just a rumour or whether James and Sirius were loath to admit to whatever they had pledged lest he should try to talk them out of it. 'They didn't exactly get rid of a teacher,' he said. 'It was just an unfortunate misunderstanding.'
Davey's eyes grew wide. 'Do you know them?' he asked.
Remus nodded. 'I'm their friend.'
'Me, too!' Peter piped up, getting to his feet and trundling over. A couple of Hufflepuff girls scooted out of his way, obviously impressed by his position as a friend of the two flying aces. 'I'm their friend, too.'
'What's your name?' asked Davey.
'Peter Pettigrew.' Peter puffed out his chest, smiling proudly.
'Never heard of you,' said Davey, shaking his head perplexedly. 'Are you sure you're their friend?'
'Yes, he is,' Remus said firmly. 'Peter's a very good friend to Sirius and James.'
Peter shot a tiny grateful glance at Remus before remembering who he was looking at. He cast his eyes awkwardly away.
'Do you play Quidditch too, then?' asked Davey. 'Why aren't you up there with them?'
'I haven't got a broomstick,' Peter equivocated. 'And I wouldn't want to steal one like S—'
Remus cleared his throat pointedly. 'Because that would be against school rules and liable to get someone in trouble,' he said, his voice slightly louder than its wont.
The slip went unnoticed by the Ravenclaw firstie, for just at that moment Sirius fumbled the transfigured Quaffle and it fell, necessitating a sharp dive on the part of James. He caught it less than six feet from the ground and was obliged to pull up sharply to avoid a painful crash-landing. The crowd, now numbering in the high teens, burst into spontaneous applause. James did a slow circle of the makeshift pitch, waving to his admirers.
Sirius, watching from far aloft, rolled his eyes. 'Come on, Potter!' he shouted, his voice carrying hollowly on the wind. 'You can practice your victory laps at another time! Get back up here, would you?'
James obeyed, and soon the pair of them were zipping around again – much to the delight of the crowd.
~discidium~
The following morning, Betta MacFusty sat down next to Remus at breakfast. She leaned forward over her plate, both elbows on the table.
'See here, Potter,' she said in her rolling Scots brogue; 'what's this I hear about you and Black playing at Chasers on the lawns?'
'I wasn't playing at Chaser: I am a Chaser,' James said, preening a little. 'And Black was helping me train.'
'And what use is he, may I ask?' said Betta. 'He didn't even come out to trials.'
Sirius bristled a little, but Remus put a finger on his forearm and shook his head ever so slightly.
'Besides,' said Betta; 'you need three Chasers for a proper practice.'
'Actually you need six,' James said; 'but I take your point. Am I to assume you would like to be included in our next outing?'
'That would be a fair assumption, aye,' she told him. 'Today at four o'clock? I'll give you some real competition.'
'Done,' said James, holding out his hand. They shook firmly over the platter of scrambled eggs. Then Betta got to her feet and strode back to her place between Charlotte and Lily.
'Why'd you go and invite her?' Sirius asked, wrinkling his nose. 'She'll only get in the way.'
'She won't,' said James. 'She's good. She's very good. She would've made the first string too if Gabriella Walters didn't have longer arms. I heard Eldritch say as much. Besides,' he added with a ribbing grin; 'it'll do me good to work with a proper Chaser. Don't take it personally, mate, but you play like a Beater.'
'So?' said Sirius. 'I am a Beater. Or would be if I had half a chance.'
'Don't feel badly,' James said. 'If it's any comfort there weren't any Beater positions for the taking this year.' He grinned wickedly. 'Except in Hufflepuff.'
'Hey, that scallywag stole away my favourite cousin,' Sirius said, eyebrows waggling. 'I'd rather he were back at school poised to Bludger you to death next weekend.'
James clicked his tongue against his teeth. 'You wound me, Sirius, you truly do,' he said. 'What's one cousin compared to a Gryffindor victory?'
'If you two keep talking like that you're going to guarantee defeat,' Remus warned.
'What is that, Irish logic?' asked James. 'If you know you're going to succeed, you will succeed. Everybody knows that.'
'Don't worry, Lupin,' Sirius said solemnly. 'If he knew he was going to succeed he wouldn't be practicing.'
'Just because I know Gryffindor is going to win,' said James; 'doesn't mean that I'm not going to do everything in my power to guarantee that she wins with the broadest margin possible. The qualification for the final is based on points, you know, not just victories.'
'And points are the purview of the Chaser,' Sirius recited, bobbing his head obligingly. He looked down the table and frowned. 'Are you sure we need Betta MacFusty?'
~discidium~
Though Sirius protested, Betta joined them that afternoon. The informal practice session once more drew a crowd – larger than before. Remus sat some distance away from the noise and the bustle, but Peter was revelling in it. He boasted of the prowess of Sirius and James, and of his friendship with them, and of the sure victory against Hufflepuff that was to come. Betta had her own contingent of admirers, chiefly first year Gryffindor girls, but of her dormitory-mates only Elsie and Charlotte had come down to watch. Athena Andrews, of course, preferred the company of her twin and had little to do with the other girls in her room, but Remus was surprised that Lily had not come. Surprised, at least, until at last the four boys returned to the castle.
In the Entrance Hall, sitting midway up the steps, were Lily and Severus. They were deep in conversation, their heads bowed toward one another. Lily was smiling and Severus did not look nearly as wan or as wary as usual. Remus would have walked by without a second glance, but Sirius froze, splaying his hands gleefully to stop Remus and James in their tracks.
'Well, well, well,' he said in a low and threatening voice. 'Snivellus.'
Snape stiffened at the sound of the spiteful name, and Remus wondered uncomfortably if that was how he looked whenever someone said werewolf: hunted and fearful and ashamed all at once. Certainly he never felt the white-hot anger that followed swiftly on the heals of the other emotions, clouding the dark eyes and sending Severus bolting to his feet, wand at the ready.
'What's this?' James asked, eyes widening in a derisive parody of astonishment. 'Does ickle Snivelly want to play?'
'You mind your own business, Potter!' Lily said, clambering up to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her friend. 'We're not interested in brawling in the corridors like a couple of yobs. If that's what you and Black want you'll have to look somewhere else.'
'Did you hear that, James? We'll have to look somewhere else,' Sirius sneered. 'I know that Slytherins are craven little cowards, what with never owning up when they ought to and sneaking into Council flats in the middle of the night to prey on innocent Muggles, but I never would've guessed they'd let Gryffindor girls fight their battles for them. Going to change his nappy, too, Evans?'
'You leave her out of this!' Snape growled, taking one step forward along the broad stair so that Lily was no longer beside him. 'Get out of here or I'll hex you. You know I'll do it.'
'Yes, we've heard about your hexes,' James said. 'I daresay the whole school's heard you boasting. And that nasty little curse you pulled off on the littlest Smythe last week… not something they teach in Defence Against the Dark Arts, is it? Seems more the sort of thing you'd pick up from the wrong sort of wizard.' He grinned unpleasantly as he tilted his wand in his hand. 'I have to ask myself what sort of a person would go after a bookish little firstie like that for no good reason. And I have to answer… well, you, of course.'
Snape's sallow face turned a ghastly shade of grey. His lips grew very thin and he glanced over his shoulder at Lily, who was watching him with shock and consternation in her keen green eyes. 'I… I…' he stammered.
'Well done, Potter,' Sirius lauded. 'He's speechless. Not that nasty little Slytherins are especially capable of coherent speech at the best of times, but all the same…'
'I didn't want to,' Severus was mumbling, desperately and in haste. He had his back very nearly turned to the other boys and he was speaking to Lily. 'I didn't want to: they made me do it. It was Mulciber's idea, and Lestrange said if I didn't do it he'd… I-I didn't hurt her.'
'No,' James said with cruel delight; 'only put her to shame in front of her friends and made her cry and spoiled the hallmark Smythe curls. You're lucky her sisters are so determined to deport themselves like ladies, Snape. If I were Pyrrha or Serena I'd turn you into a Flobberworm for what you did. In fact,' he mused; 'I think I might just try it anyhow.'
'I ought to warn you,' Sirius added viciously; 'that he's never yet succeeded in turning a person into an animal, and I'm not sure I'd want him to experiment on me…'
'Why not?' Lily snapped. 'By virtue of birth alone you're the product of some kind of hideous accident. What could Potter possibly do to make it worse?'
Sirius's jaw went slack and his wand-arm fell lifeless at his side. Lily, who could not possibly have known how near to home her blow had struck, crossed her arms defiantly.
'Not nearly as much fun when you're on the receiving end, is it?' she demanded. She took Snape by the elbow and tugged him towards her. 'Come on, Sev: let's get some supper. The sort of people they allow free range in the corridors… they do rather lower the tone.'
'Hey!' James shouted as Lily stomped off up the stairs, dragging Severus behind him. 'Hey! You can't just walk off… you Slytherin coward, Snivelly! Get back here and face me! You're going to pay for what you did to that kid…'
'And another thing!' Lily cried, letting go of her friend and storming back down, halting two steps above James so that she towered over him. 'Who put you in charge of deciding who pays for what and how? Is it any of your business even if he did hex one first year? It's nothing you haven't done yourself.'
'Yeah, but Evans, that was Lestrange Secundus,' protested James. 'He's a nasty bullying little git. Isn't he?' He looked questioningly at Sirius.
The taller boy nodded vigorously. 'He picks on little'uns and he bites,' he said. 'Rabastan's a nasty piece of work.'
'Was he picking on anybody when you attacked him in the courtyard?' Lily demanded. When she got no reply she stamped her foot in vindication. 'I thought not! Now you leave Sev alone, or I'll report you to Professor McGonagall!'
She hastened off again, sweeping her friend along with her.
'Who's to say McGonagall wouldn't be on our side?' James called after her, but she was already gone. James turned to Sirius, glowering malevolently. 'Stinking Slytherin sneak,' he said. 'He did too hex the littlest Smythe, and now he's trying to make excuses. Oh, they MADE me do it!' he mimicked in a nasal voice. 'As if anyone would fall for a line like that.'
Remus thought uncomfortably about his encounter with Evan Rosier the previous weekend, and the implication he had made that the castle was being searched under orders from Rodulphus Lestrange. He was reluctant to admit that he believed Severus, however, for doing so would mean taking a position against his two remaining friends. He held his tongue.
'At least when we hex firsties we don't apologize for it,' Sirius said smugly. 'And we only go after the ones who deserve it, not helpless little Ravenclaw girls.'
~discidium~
On Wednesday the Gryffindor team had their regularly scheduled practice. Sirius and Peter went out to watch, but Remus begged off, tucking himself in a corner of the common room to copy out his Charms essay. Lily and Charlotte passed him on their way out of the portrait-hole, bundle up against the afternoon chill. Remus wanted very much to speak to Lily, and to try perhaps to apologize for the previous day's altercation in the corridor, but the words stuck in his throat. If Lily wanted anything to do with him she would speak to him. If she didn't there was no sense in pestering her.
When the others returned to Gryffindor Tower, exhilarated and chattering nonstop, Remus let himself be swept up the stairs with them. James and Sirius were working on strategies to improve their own training sessions; the general consensus was that they needed something to use in place of a Bludger but could not work out a way to stage assaults on the three practicing Chasers without needing a bat and a Beater to prevent anyone from getting hurt.
'Couldn't you use an owl?' Remus asked, measuring his essay one last time to be sure it met the eleven-inch requirement.
'Nobody's using my owl as a Bludger!' Sirius said ferociously.
'No, I mean, couldn't you train one of your owls to dive at you? That's what you want, isn't it? Something to come rocketing out of nowhere so that you need to duck 'round it?' asked Remus. 'I'm sure that Hermes or Ronan could manage that, and they'd be clever enough not to hurt anyone.'
'You know, that's not a bad idea,' said James. 'I'm sure I could get Ronan to do it, and if Hermes would as well we could have two…'
'Hermes won't,' Sirius promised. 'He'll find it beneath his dignity: I guarantee it. Owls of his calibre don't play Quidditch.'
James laughed. 'You make that sound acceptable!' he teased. 'He's your bird, isn't he? Just make him do it.'
'Certainly not.' Sirius turned up his nose in a way that – though he would have been horrified to know it – reminded Remus of his cousin Narcissa. 'Hermes doesn't have to do anything he doesn't wish to. Not on my watch.'
'Fair enough,' James said with a shrug of his shoulders. 'Your owl, your rules. One Bludger is enough.' There was an exceedingly well-timed tapping at the window, and James opened it to admit Ronan. The slender bird perched on his master's shoulder, cooing contentedly deep within his throat.
'Fabulous!' Sirius said, rubbing his hands with glee. 'Let's train him.'
'Pardon me for mentioning it,' Remus said softly, rolling up his parchment and tying it closed with a bit of twine; 'but we have a paper due tomorrow. Have any of you started it?'
For the next half-hour or so panic enveloped the dormitory. James tore frantically through his cupboard, emerging with a howl of triumph when he found his sheaf of scattered jot-notes. Sirius launched straight for The Standard Book of Spells and a fresh roll of parchment, as usual bent on starting the assignment scant hours before it was due. Peter produced a rather grubby mass of scribbles and started trying anxiously to make sense of them. Remus tidied his belongings and filed his notes and waited patiently for his services to be required.
James was, predictably, the first one ready for checking. After offering the usual bribe of five Chocolate Frogs, he lay down on his belly with his chin in his hands and watched as Remus read his paper. Behind him Peter was beginning to look rather tearful, and from the opposite end of the room came the frenetic scratching of Sirius's quill.
Remus swiftly corrected a few minor punctuation errors and divided up one or two of the most unwieldy sentences. 'It's very good,' he said at last, coming to the end. 'You just need to fix up your concluding paragraph. You're begging the question.'
'Begging what question?' James asked. 'I mean, right at the end there I ask whether there mightn't be some larger scale application for Engorgement Charms, but Flitwick likes it when we slip in an original thought as a sort of a tease, doesn't he?'
'No, I mean you're making a circular argument,' Remus told him. 'Right here you've written: Engorgement Charms are a useful addition to a wizard's artillery of spells. There are many situations in which increasing the size or volume of an object may prove valuable. Therefore it is important to know a Charm that will accomplish just that. You're basically saying that Engorgement Charms, which make things larger, are useful because making things larger is useful. Do you see what I mean?'
James wrinkled his nose. 'When you put it like that I sound like an idiot,' he said.
Sirius tittered. 'Call a cauldron a cauldron,' he taunted. 'Hey, Lupin, how do you spell disenfranchised?'
'Why would you spell disenfranchised?' asked James.
'See, this is why I don't wind up sounding like an idiot when Remus rephrases,' Sirius told him blithely. 'Maybe if you enlarged your vocabulary at the same time you enlarged your repertoire of showy dives you would almost equal my level of academic excellence.'
'If by academic excellence you mean starting from scratch the night before a paper is due, I'll pass,' James said. He reached across the space between beds to prod Remus's knee with his quill. 'So how do I fix it?'
'Give some more concrete examples of how making things larger is useful,' Remus said; 'and cut out that third sentence altogether. That should do nicely.'
Sirius cleared his throat pointedly. 'Disenfranchised?' he demanded. Remus spelled it obligingly.
The homework session lasted long into the night, but though he grew ever more agitated and clearly frustrated Peter did not ask Remus for help. Somehow this hurt more than anything the little boy had said or done since the truth had come out. If he could not even lower himself to interact with a werewolf when it was in his own best interest, it seemed there was no hope for reconciliation.
~discidium~
On Thursday the spectacle of Potter, Black and MacFusty lobbing the Quaffle about while under assault from an agile and very cheerful owl drew an enormous crowd. Most of the same group were back on Friday, but by Saturday – one week before Gryffindor's opening match against Hufflepuff – the novelty was beginning to wear thin. The younger students were back at their game of trying to touch the Whomping Willow, and the older ones were all gone for their first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. Meals were very quiet that day, and on Sunday the Gryffindor common room was awash with sweets and joke shop purchases and various exciting new trifles.
Sirius approached the scene as if it were his own personal marketplace. He wandered about with his bag of Galleons, swapping gold for goods and, when interested parties began to run low, goods for other goods. Finally he started exchanging promises of amnesty for Dungbombs and packets of Puckering Powder.
'That should do us at least three weeks,' he said, strolling into the dormitory and spreading out his loot across his bed. 'And I've got at least three sources who promise that if we give them the list and the money they'll pick up whatever we want next time.'
'Who are these mysterious sources?' James asked.
'Eldritch McKinnon, for one,' said Sirius. 'It seems he appreciates my efforts to ensure his new Chaser is in top form for the forthcoming match. Also Paul Jordan, whom I think is rather fond of mayhem as a general rule – and a certain young lady in fifth year who wishes to remain anonymous but was quite taken with my charming smile.' He flashed a sample of the aforementioned smile for his friends.
'Ugh,' James said. 'You do realize it's underhanded to take advantage of silly teenage girls. They can't help themselves: they'll fall head over heels for a bit of a flirt.'
'I know!' Sirius said gleefully. 'I'm beginning to think the whole of the female population of fourth through seventh year are putty in my hands. Except Dorcas Meadowes, of course,' he added ruefully. 'She threatened to set me so many lines I'd forget my own name if we lost Gryffindor any points with these things.'
'She doesn't count anyhow,' James scoffed. 'She's only a Prefect. Now, if you've got the approval of Eldritch McKinnon you've got all you need. After all, he's—'
'Quidditch Captain!' Sirius chorused along with James, and with precisely the same inflection. 'He certainly is. As no doubt you too wish to be one day.'
James managed to subdue his grin so that it did not look too dreadfully conceited. 'If wishes were broomsticks…'
'…then your father would buy you one,' Sirius finished sagely. James arched an eyebrow and the taller boy chuckled. 'Don't worry, Potter. I'm not bitter. Had a letter from Alphard this morning: he's stopping back in England for Christmas, and I can get my broom then.'
'Glad to hear it,' James said. His eyes drifted to the corner of the room where the illicitly acquired Cleansweep Two was propped. 'I'd hate to get caught with stolen school property.'
'Oh, James,' Sirius said, shaking his head condescendingly. 'When do we ever get caught?'
~discidium~
As a matter of fact they got caught that very evening, when Mr Filch came upon the two of them trying to rig the suit of armour outside the Slytherin common room to hurl Dungbombs at anyone who came out. Monday and Tuesday's practices were cancelled because the two organizers were in detention. Fortunately for Sirius, the caretaker lacked either the power or the inclination to dock house points and so Dorcas Meadowes was left with little to complain about.
On Wednesday, despite the pouring rain, McKinnon kept the Gryffindor team drilling until well after dark. James and Sirius – who was the only one brave or foolhardy enough to venture out into the storm to watch indistinct shapes rocketing around in the gloom – returned to the dormitory soaked to the skin and rather disheartened. It seemed that the less glamorous aspects of the game had never quite been explained to either of them. Despite their subdued mood Remus was glad of their return. The oppressive hush that always fell when he was left alone with Peter was beginning to wear hard upon his sanity.
Thursday was a clear day, if a little frosty, and the practices resumed as usual. There was hardly any audience at all: everyone was off by the Whomping Willow, either trying to touch the trunk or calling out wagers on how long any given student would last before being driven back. Only Peter, Remus and Charlotte sat on the dying grass, faces upturned, and Peter's spirits were low. They had been given their Charms papers that afternoon, and his had come back positively drowning in red ink. For easygoing Professor Flitwick to so lambaste a student's earnest effort the essay must have been truly ghastly. Remus cringed at the memory of the moment.
'Good lord, Pettigrew! Did he spill his ink pot on it or something?' Sirius had asked, first craning his neck and then snatching the parchment, turning it in every direction as if looking for a hidden image in the scrawlings. 'You spelt "fruit" with two 'O's and an 'E'? What the devil's wrong with you?'
'I did my best,' Peter had said defensively, though his small eyes were brimming with tears of discouragement. 'I worked really hard on that, I did.'
'You'd have to have done, to get a grade this awful,' Sirius said. 'Nobody fails so spectacularly in Flitwick's class without a deliberate effort.'
'Why didn't you have somebody look it over for you?' James asked.
'I tried!' Peter snapped. Then he composed himself, repentant of raising his voice to his hero. 'You said you didn't have time.'
'And I said you should ask Remus.' James whirled on the fourth member of the group. 'Don't tell me you blew him off too?'
Remus shook his head mutely. He wanted to protest that Peter had not asked him, but he was not sure if this would be a violation of their pact of secrecy.
'I didn't want to ask Remus,' Peter said stiffly. Then he, too, remembered the agreement and the degree to which it was in his best interest to keep the secret. 'I thought I could do it myself,' he added emphatically.
Sirius and James appeared to believe him. Certainly neither of them had said anything to the contrary. Watching the two of them now, weaving around one another high above as if they shared one set of instincts between them, Remus wished he could explain the situation with Peter. He was lonely and he was hurting and he wanted very much to talk to one of his friends about it, but he had given his word.
