"And then the ghoul said, 'how could I? I don't have bones!'" Peter cried, and his friends burst out in laughter.

They were sitting at the front of Hogwarts on the 20th of December. The Marauders were staying behind at Hogwarts, but they watched as others had packed their suitcase, and were now boarding the train.

"That was so stupid," James laughed. "How could the vampire even meet the ghoul in the first place? You said he was at a Haunted House."

"Good point." Peter thought about that. His dad had told him this joke, but Peter hadn't protested. "The vampire came to the Haunted House?"

"You said the vampire couldn't leave the Garden of Despair. Plus, it was the middle of the day. Wouldn't it be sunny?"

"Forget it," sighed Peter. "It was just a joke." Why did they have to go analyze it?

"It was a very funny joke," Remus offered kindly. Peter smiled broadly.

"See? Remus liked it."

"Remus is only saying that because he's nice." Sirius smirked. "James and I tell the truth openly and that joke made no sense. Only the punch line was funny, and even that isn't original."

"No, I actually like the joke." Remus smiled at Peter.

"Remus, please. We all know the joke was terrible and you think so too. Face it. You'd never admit it, obviously, but you do think it's terrible."

"Can we move away from the topic?" cut in Peter. "James, it's your turn to entertain us."

"I can do the Chicken Dance," offered James, jumping up. "Sirius, hit it!"

Sirius started loudly singing the music and James started dancing along, attracting the views from people boarding the train to go back home.

Once they were done, Peter was laughing so hard he rolled off the steps they were sitting on, and James's face was pink with breath. Sirius was grinning so widely it looked like his face would break.

"Remus. Your turn," James ordered.

"I can tell a story," Remus said.

"Go for it."

Remus launched into a story about a goblin and a unicorn. He was a really beautiful storyteller. He described the scenes magically, with a certain trace in his voice that made you picture exactly what was happening.

"The goblin's eyes went wide, and he dropped the leather-brown bookbag he was holding, and rushed to his unicorn's side. You'll be okay, girl, he told her. Because I'll be there with you."

"That's so sweet," breathed James.

"Shut up, and let me continue." Remus took a deep breath. He continued narrating the tale until the very end.

"There was no chance for the unicorn to survive," Remus explained softly. "And so the goblin decided to put her out of her misery. He took a knife-"

"-and killed her? That's not right," said Sirius, frowning.

"Can I continue?"

"Sorry."

"Yes, so. He killed the unicorn without putting it through any more misery. He wanted to kill himself, but he didn't, because he wouldn't be there to help any more unicorns. He quit his job at Gringotts, and created a memorial in the unicorn's name. He became the hero of the unicorns. Until his last breath. He knew he was getting old, and so he spent his last days at the memorial. And his last words were, Thank you."

Silence.

"Did you come up with that, Remus?" asked Peter, his eyes wide.

"Yes. On the spot."

"That was beautiful!" cried Sirius. "You should publish it!"

"It wasn't that good." Remus hugged himself, looking at the other three.

"No seriously. I'll talk to McGonagall once we get inside," declared James.

"Don't do that!" cried Remus, his eyes widening at the prospect. "Please, no."

"We'll drop it for now, but we're coming back to it later," Sirius warned. "My turn to entertain you guys. What do you say about throwing mud, leaves, grass, and roots at the next person who tries to board the train?" The snow had decided not to come that day, and it was surprisingly full of dry plants.

"We have to do it quickly. The train is leaving in five minutes," Peter said.

"Then let's go quickly!" cried James.

They yanked out grass, rocks, any nature from the ground (except for Remus, who was watching them like they were insane).

"I'll pass this prank," Remus declined, looking horrified.

"Your loss," Sirius sang. "Come on guys, let's go." They ran over to where the last of people were boarding the train. Then, a Hufflepuff first-year emerged out of nowhere and started lugging his suitcase towards the train.

"NOW!" cried James. They launched the mud, grass, roots, branches, rocks, and leaves at the innocent first-year, who screamed in fright and suddenly resembled a tree. It was hilarious.

"Explain yourselves."

McGonagall's face was stern and extremely reprimanding.

James and Sirius were sniggering openly, and Remus was looking like he would do anything but be there at the moment. And Peter - well, he was kind of scared.

"I'm waiting."

"Good to know," Sirius breathed, laughter jumping out of his mouth. Peter couldn't help but admire how unafraid Sirius and James were of trouble.

"I want an answer from you, Black, in the next five seconds. Five...Four...Three…" McGonagall closed her eyes. "Two…" She seemed to give up all hope. "One. Am I getting an answer from you, Black?"

Sirius shook his head.

She sighed. "Detention for you in my office, tonight. Lupin, you would explain?"

"Well...we were…"

"He wasn't a part of it," James jumped in. "He didn't want to do the prank, it wasn't his idea." McGonagall suddenly looked triumphant, a small smile stretching across her face.

"So it was a prank."

"It was," James admitted, his head held high.

"And Lupin wasn't part of it."

"Nope."

"I'm glad to hear that." McGonagall looked at James, and then Peter. "Do either of you care to explain why this prank came to mind?"

"Not really," said James, shrugging.

"I see. Pettigrew?"

"I'm sorry," he said. "But no."

McGonagall sighed. "Detention for the three of you, sans Lupin. And I don't want to hear about any more pranks like this, are we clear?"

"You won't," said James, "hear about them."

"Oh I will," assured McGonagall. "I will be keeping an eye out for the four of you. Throwing grass on someone was an extremely childish idea."

"Well guess what? We are children," said Sirius.

"I'm well aware of that, Black," said McGonagall. "And no cheek on your teacher, please."

"But my cheek is on my face!" protested Sirius, grinning.

"Do you really want another detention?"

"Why not?"

"Out of my office, now. I'll see you in separate detentions tonight, at seven o'clock."

"Nice. Can we bring snacks?" James asked.

"OUT!"

"You guys are too...wild," murmured Remus. "You don't just joke with a teacher like that."

"Which teacher did you guys joke with?" came a voice. Peter turned and saw a fifth-year with orange-red hair and blue eyes sitting with a boy by the fireplace.

"Pat!" cried James, jumping up.

"Jamie," returned Pat, grinning. "Don't call me Pat."

"Whatever, Pat," Sirius said.

"Care to introduce me to your friends?" Pat asked - what was her real name? - gesturing towards Remus and Peter.

"That's Peter, and that's Remus. Remus is the rule-follower out of all of us, and Peter is this...I don't know, guy who loves food? The four of us are the Marauders."

"Way to describe me," muttered Peter. "The guy who loves food."

"No offense…" Remus looked at Pat, "...but who exactly are you?"

"Patricia," she answered. "Don't call me Pat." She sent a glare James's way. Then Sirius. "I don't mind Cia, or Ricia, but not Pat."

"Okay. Uh...how do you know these two?" Peter inquired.

Patricia laughed. "I met them at the Snowball Fight. Good work, you guys."

"Thanks."

"So, who were you joking with?"

"McGonagall!" cried Remus. "They acted all chill about detention-"

"Woah, woah, stop. Detention? I need to hear this story!"

"You're a rule-breaker?" Remus asked.

"Heck yeah," she returned.

"Oh no," he grumbled. "You're going to lead these two on the wrong path." He pointed towards Sirius and James, and they all burst out in laughter.

"You can't lead us on the wrong path. We're headed on the path of mischief," James declared in a very sagely voice.

"Will we please get to why you were getting detention in the first place?" Patricia cried.

"They threw grass at this Hufflepuff trying to board the train!" insisted Remus, throwing his hands up on the air. "I mean who does that?"

"You guys threw grass...at a kid trying to board the train?" Patricia's face cracked into a smile. "You guys are brilliant!"

"Thanks." Sirius bowed as Peter giggled.

"So, Pat, what are you up to?" James asked.

"I'm sorry, are you talking to me?" Patricia grinned.

"Yes, I am, Pat."

"Alright Jamie, well, I was just working on some...stuff." She covered up her papers on her desk with Ancient Runes notes.

Peter frowned. "What were you just doing?"

"Homework," she said. Her lie would be convincing if it hadn't been for the shuffle of paper.

"Sure." James looked disbelieving.

"She obviously doesn't want to tell us," reasoned Remus.

"Thank you, Remus."

"But I still want to know," whined Sirius. "We're not letting you go away without telling us."

"You really think a threat from a first-year is going to affect me?" Patricia smirked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You really don't know us, then," said James.

"Whatever. Can we change the topic?"

"So what do you have to do...tonight?" asked Peter.

"I'm going to have a meeting with McGonagall," she said. Then her eyes went wide. "Don't you press into that."

"Why?" pressed Sirius.

"I'm not telling you guys."

"Okay," sighed Remus. "Guys, leave her alone."

"Whatever," mumbled James.

"So, who's this?" asked Peter, gesturing to the boy she was sitting with.

"This? Oh sorry, him," laughed Patricia. "My friend, Max."

"Hey, Max," greeted Remus. "Sorry if we were being rude."

"Not at all."

"I'm Remus, this is Peter, this is James, and that's Sirius."

"Hey kiddos."

"So, can you tell us what Patricia was working on?" Sirius inquired, leaning in.

"Nah, I only know a whiff of it. Ricia doesn't tell too many people about...it. She's been shot down too many times."

"Shut up, Max," snapped Patricia.

Max laughed. "I have to go, now, so I'll see you tonight?"

"Yeah, okay." Patricia smiled as Max patted her on the shoulder before swinging his bag over his shoulder and setting off. "I have to go too, so I'll see you guys later, huh?"

She left and the Marauders looked around the Common Room.

"It's honestly really empty here," mused James. "Could we break into someone's dormitory?"

"Why would you do that?" asked Remus.

"It'd be so funny. We could plaster it with paintings of grinning faces and pictures of...like...cuddly cats for a seventh-year or something. We could do it to every dormitory, maybe, and when people get back from break, they'll be like what?"

"As much as that is amusing, we have to go to Flitwick's office now." Sirius smirked. "The meeting about decorating the Great Hall." They were supposed to go a week or two ago, but Remus had fallen sick that day, and it was postponed to today.

"Then let's go," Peter said. They donned their cloaks and travelled through the hallways before they reached Professor Flitwick's office.

"You knock," Sirius whispered to James.

"You knock!" James whispered to Peter.

"You knock," Peter whispered to Remus.

"Why?" Remus asked. "Why can't one of you three knock?"

"We don't want to," announced Sirius.

"Good for you," retorted Remus, rolling his eyes. He sighed. "Fine, I'll do it. But you don't have to make a big deal out of everything." He knocked on the door three times and waited as Flitwick's voice rang out,

"Come in!"

The four Marauders pushed open the door to see a smiling Flitwick at his table.

"Ah, hello. I'm glad you're here. Sit, sit." He ushered them to the table and the Marauders lowered themselves into their chairs. "Before we start, would you like some biscuits?" He gestured to a tin of biscuits on his table. "They're shortbread. Very nice in this cold weather."

"Okay," said Peter, grabbing for a biscuit. They honestly did taste good.

"So let's start discussing the ornaments," Flitwick squeaked. He put down a piece of parchment. "These will be on the Christmas Tree. You're going to need to have the Hovering Spell mastered. Let's see you try it out."

"Wingardium Leviosa," chanted Remus, pulling out his wand and pointing it at a quill on the table. It rose into the air.

"Lovely," Flitwick cried. "The only thing. When decorating, it'll be larger ornaments and higher goals. We'll be practicing. The rest of you, give it a shot."

James whipped out his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa," he said casually, flicking his wand at the quill. It jumped into the air.

"Amazing. Black?"

"Wingardium Leviosa." Flew into the air.

"Nicely done. Lastly, Pettigrew. It should be easy enough, it was in the second week of school that we learned this."

"Wingardium Leviosa," mumbled Peter. It twitched a little bit. "Can I try that again, sir?"

"Sure."

"Wingardium Leviosa." He channeled all his focus into making that quill fly. It jumped into the air.

"Could use a little practice, but will work," Flitwick decided. "Now, I want you and Lupin to organize those ornaments in the corner by color. Potter and Black...I want you to help me pick a location for our Christmas Tree. And then we can decide the Ceiling designs."

"Okay," agreed Peter readily. He and Remus went over to the corner and found a boxful of ornaments. Next to it was an organizer.

"I'll do red, you can do green, and I'll take blue. You'll take white," Remus ordered.

"Alright." Peter started pulling out the green ornaments and sorting through them. After around ten minutes, he and Remus had sorted through them all.

"Hey Remus," Peter started as Remus was putting his last one in the organizer, "what illness do you have?"

Remus slightly stiffened, but he continued what he was doing. "Why?"

"I dunno, just wondering. Why can't you tell us? Is it the flu or something? I thought so, but you weren't coughing or anything when you got sick a week ago."

"That might not have been related to my illness," pointed out Remus. "It might've just...been something else."

"I guess." Peter shrugged. "But what illness do you have?"

"Are you worried that it is contagious? Because it's not." Remus's smile was extremely kind.

"I don't think it'd be contagious or something. I'm just trying to be a good friend," Peter answered.

"You are a very nice friend, and I appreciate your concern."

"You do?" Peter asked.

"Obviously. You're a good friend, Peter, you don't have to worry."

"Oh, good."

"You boys done?" called Flitwick.

"Yes," replied Peter.

"Perfect. Come here, and we can decide what the ceiling design should be."

They had to choose between snowy grounds, stars, the night sky, snowmen, or a bunch of different patterns.

"We could do a blend," offered James.

"Maybe," mused Flitwick, pulling out his wand. "Ideas?"

"Moonlight, definitely," said Sirius. "A full moon. A nice full moon which is shining on the snow and stars."

Peter didn't notice Remus's slight shudder (which immediately ceased a moment afterwards) at that comment.

Flitwick waved his wand. "Anything else?"

"Maybe this snow should be more rich. Can we have swirling snowflakes?" James asked.

"Over here, maybe?" Peter pointed to a spot on their mini-ceiling diagram.

"It should stretch until here." Remus tapped a part of the diagram with his wand. "Over here should just be dark blue, or black. To emphasize."

"Why not?" Flitwick waved his wand. "We should have horses riding across it every five minutes or so."

"Do people pay attention to these things, even?" Sirius asked.

"You would pay attention if it was a plain ceiling, wouldn't you?" challenged Flitwick.

"Point."

"Then, I believe we're done," Flitwick said, "for today. I will see you guys again in two days, and then Christmas Eve. You keep practicing Wingardium Leviosa on bigger items, and we'll be all set."

"Alright," enthused James.

"I'll see you boys day-after!" Flitwick squeaked. "Good day."

And it was as he left the room when Peter realized that Remus had not answered his question at all.

"That went nice," said Sirius. "Anyway, Dumbledore normally has Pumpkin Juice on Christmas at breakfast. We'll slip it in then."

"Yeah. Speaking of which, the potion needs some stuff now doesn't it? Coconut shavings?" asked Remus.

"I'll go," volunteered Sirius immediately.

"I can go too," Remus offered.

"Perfect. Peter and I don't need to go there, so we'll be out and about," James informed them.

Sirius smirked. "Okay. Come on, Lupin, let's go."

"Yes, Black," retorted Remus. The two of them started running up to the Astronomy Tower.

"Can we go to the kitchens?" begged Peter.

"Why?"

"I'm hungry, and I want food," Peter responded.

"Okay," gave in James. "Let's go." They went down to the portrait of the pear and tickled it. It opened.

"Masters!" cried a little elf.

"Hello," said Peter. "You are?"

"Varu, and Varu exists to serve? What can Varu get you?"

"Crumpets," said Peter. "Crumpets...can I have a compote? Okay, those two, and some cranberry juice. And some fresh fruit...cantaloupe and pineapple for sure."

"Yes sir. And the other master?"

"I'll take some chips," said James. "And ice cream?"

"What flavor?"

"Coffee," James said, his eyes gleaming.

"Sir!" Varu ran away, screaming their orders.

"Let's sit," said Peter, as they sunk into the couch.

"This place is really nice," observed James.

Peter looked around the place. It was large - as large as the Great Hall - and pots and pans were stacked against the walls on the side. A big fireplace was at the opposite end, and there were tables in the kitchens too.

"Yeah, it honestly is."

"How do you think the elves got hired here in the first place?" wondered James.

"I think they were here before Dumbledore - maybe with the four founders?" suggested Peter.

"Let's ask one…hey, Jumby?"

An elf looked around. "Yes, sirs?"

"How long have you guys been here...who invited you the first time?"

"Helga Hufflepuff herself, sir. She hired my great-grandfather elf: Binky! And so of course, we have all come since."

"Helga Hufflepuff? Hufflepuff herself?" asked Peter.

"Yes, oh yes," Jumby responded, swaying on the spot.

"So...why did she do it?"

"So us elves could avoid abuse," explained Jumby. "People were harming us. Left, right, and center, but that is our job, see, so we wouldn't mind, see."

"You don't mind being...harmed?" asked James, looking confused.

"No, sir, we don't. We sign up to those rules when signing to our master. They no pay us, either. Dumbledore sir is very kind. He gives us money and is nice to us. Hufflepuff was too...to my great-grandfather Binky."

"Oh. But that's not right." James frowned. "People shouldn't harm elves."

"It is part of our job!" squeaked Jumby. "We punish ourselves if we do wrong."

"Oh," James mumbled.

"What's wrong?" Peter inquired. He thought the treatment of elves was common knowledge. Sure, he didn't like it, but it wasn't like he was harming elves or that he was being harmed.

"I didn't know." James frowned again. "We have a house elf, and we consider her part of the family, almost. We give her clothes."

"Like us," sang Jumby.

"Yes, like you guys."

"We has your food," announced Varu, returning with plates of their food.

"Oh, thanks!" cried Peter, digging in.

"Tell for seconds," said Varu. "And thirds."

"Their english really isn't...the best, is it?" murmured Peter out of the side of his mouth.

"No, not really," laughed James. "Then again, they aren't humans."

"We'll tell for seconds," assured Peter to the elf, before shooting a thumbs-up at James.

"Their food is always really good," moaned James, stuffing his face with his chips. "Yum…"

"Oh, they sure are," agreed Peter, spooning up some compote and emptying it into his mouth. The berry flavor was delicious. "Yes...definitely."

"I could eat so much of this and never get bored," said James, popping another chip into his mouth.

"Yep."

"My dad never allows me to have ice cream before dinner," James confessed, taking a spoon of coffee ice cream. "And we can have it after, though."

"We have it when we want," said Peter. "Mum's an excellent baker."

"Tell me about it," said James, licking off ice cream from his spoon. "I could honestly take seconds."

"You might get fat," warned Peter.

"Who are you to tell me that?" cried James.

It took a moment for Peter to get what he was saying. "Hey!"

"Just joking," laughed James, holding his hands up defensively, before he jabbed the ice cream with his spoon.

Peter cut a crumpet in half and shoved a half into his mouth. He swallowed, then said, "So your mom's a good baker, then?"

"The best." James beamed. "She makes really good chocolate cookies."

"Don't they all?" chortled Peter. "My mom's better at oatmeal raisin cookies. She's great at muffins."

"Banana walnut!" said James.

"Blueberry," sighed Peter dreamily.

"Chocolate chip," supplied James.

"Carrot cake is really nice," Peter said.

"All desserts are really nice."

"You shouldn't have said that," said Peter, realizing that the elves had just brought chocolate chip cookies, oatmeal raisins cookies, banana walnut, blueberry, and chocolate chip muffins, and carrot cake.

"Oh my," James said, his eyes wide. "You shouldn't have brought all of this!"

"We heard masters talking about yummy food. Elves made master yummy food!" The elves did a little skip.

"Thank you," breathed Peter. This looked scrumptious.

"There is owl waiting for you," an elf said, peeking out the door.

"For me?" James looked confused but he went outside and went to the window before returning, clutching a letter and a box.

Dearest James,

I'm glad to hear that you haven't gotten in trouble since the incident, though funnily, I can't seem to believe that.

You deserved the yelling, my boy. Skipping school? We've been over this. I thought you enjoyed Hogwarts, but if you can't handle the privilege of being there - we will have to take you out. But we've talked over this, and you don't need to be punished more. You have enough grounding over summer break. You're very lucky I'm letting you stay at Hogwarts for the winter. When you come home…you'll feel my wrath…

Just kidding. I would never do that. You are grounded, though, your mum insists.

Get back to that essay, Jamie. Anyway, sorry for the late reply, but I was waiting for the supplies to come. The shop mixed up my order with someone else's. Check the box I sent, you have your supplies.

Tell your friends I wish them a Merry Christmas and a good life at Hogwarts. Our house just doesn't feel the same without you, Jamie, and we can't wait for you to come home.

Love,

Dad

"He sent the supplies!" cheered James.

"Jamie?" snorted Peter.

"Shut up," James grumbled. "I'm sure your parents call you Pete."

Peter turned pink. "No they don't."

"Yes they do."

"No they don't."

"Yes they do."

"No they-"

"Okay, we get it," James laughed. "You're a terrible liar."

"I'm not!"

"If you say so," James said in a sing-song voice. He spooned up another spoon of ice cream and gagged. "There was a chip in the ice cream! That tasted horrible."

"Too bad," teased Peter. "It's karma."

"Whatever…" James's eyes gleamed. "I have an idea for an epic Christmas prank."

"Oh no," moaned Peter. "How did ice cream inspire a prank? Let's hear it then."

"It's going to be great."

"Bring it on."