Chapter Nineteen: A Blundering Rat

James and Hagrid both stood up from their seats, a look of dazed confusion on each of their faces. It had all happened so quickly… in the end, James was glad that Walburga got what she deserved. Sirius was already making his way toward the exit, his face quite blank except for the trace of relief that he saw in his eyes. Pushing past the people to his left, disregarding the annoyed grunts and mumbles that came, he and Hagrid squeezed towards the path that led to the doors.

They caught up with Sirius a little way from the main entrance to the corridor. Without saying a word, he wrenched open the door and almost collided with a startled Ministry worker. Once they were free from the depressing stone walls and dim light, Sirius instantly let out a sigh and slung an arm around James.

"I can't believe my luck, if that Bones woman hadn't come I would've been stripped of every piece of gold I had in my vault…"

"Yeh did great, Sirius," said Hagrid, beaming. "Gave yer mother a good piece of yer mind, if I say so myself."

"I did, didn't I?" grinned Sirius. "Let's get out of here, this place is dreadful."

"Seconded," said James. "Are we taking the Floo Network, Hagrid?"

Hagrid was already looking over their heads towards the fireplace; the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was even crowded now that the workers had started trickling in.

"Nah," said Hagrid in a low voice. "Can' expect ter get through all these people. 'Sides, I reckon those things are one-way entrances, can' see Floo Powder anywhere, can yeh? S'pose we'll go ter the Atrium, take the fireplace there."

He pulled them aside just as the door leading to the courtroom opened behind them. The audience was filing out. Walburga was the first to exit, and she faltered in her tracks as she saw them all gathered right in front of her, but then quickly averted her eyes and continued to strut away.

"Let's go, then," said Sirius in a tight voice.

James didn't need any more convincing. They followed Hagrid towards the lift, and they entered just as the doors opened along with a small crowd. He ducked as owls swooped in and out.

"Wait!"

A wizard had come sprinting up to the lift as the doors started to close. Hagrid hastily jammed his finger on the open button, and the wizard slipped in just as they parted.

"Thank you," he panted. "You're a lifesaver, Hagrid."

He had very sallow skin, noted James. There was a slightly unhealthy look about his face. His mouth sagged and there were dark bags under his red eyes.

"Ah, don' mention it," said Hagrid, waving the wizard off. "But yeh seem ter be in a hurry, Bode – goin' somewhere?"

"Department of Mysteries, level nine," said Bode, nodding as Hagrid pressed the button to level nine. "And, yes, I am in a hurry, that newcomer Rookwood's gone and misplaced some important documents again –"

"Rookwood?" said James blankly as the doors to the lift clanged shut. "Didn't he – wasn't he an Auror?"

He refrained very carefully from saying what he'd wanted to say, that Rookwood was famous at Hogwarts for using an Unforgivable Curse. Hagrid shook his head, causing his beard to slap the back of Bodes's head, but when Bode looked up Hagrid pretended that he was shooing off an owl.

"Yes, he was an Auror," said Bode slowly, turning back to James. "Until three weeks ago, when he was transferred to the Department of Mysteries."

The lift juddered to a halt, and a cool voice announced: "Level Three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Obliviator Headquarters and Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee."

Once again the lift doors opened, and several witches and wizards got out. At the same time a couple of owls fluttered in, and James had to wait a bit before resuming his conversation with Bode.

"So – why was he transferred?" asked James as the doors of the lift closed and they clattered downwards. "Any idea?"

"No, as it's none of my business," said Bode, frowning. "And frankly, it's none of yours, either."

"It's important," said James, ignoring the way Hagrid was looking at him. "Please, Mr Bode –"

The lift stopped, and the same voice announced: "Level Four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office and Pest Advisory Bureau."

Three elderly witches carrying similar-looking bags of a green scaly material entered, and the lift felt crowded once again. They made themselves comfortable right in front of the doors, preventing James from talking to Bode, and he had to make an effort so as to not breathe in their strong scent of mothballs. The doors clanged shut and they slid downwards.

"Level Five, Department of International Magical Cooperation, incorporating the International Magical Trading Standards Body, the International Magical Office of Law and the International Confederation of Wizards, British Seats."

The three witches got out, as did some of the other people behind them. Most of the owls flew out as well, leaving only one or two flying around the ceiling.

"Mr Bode," tried James again. "Is it possible that Rookwood was – transferred – because of something he did?"

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, young man," said Bode shortly.

The lift stopped, and the people behind James pushed up to him.

"Level Six, Department of Magical Transportation, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office and Apparition Test Centre."

Everybody in the lift got off on this floor except for Hagrid, Sirius, James and Bode. The remaining owls continued to flutter around the ceiling as the lift juddered still downwards, hooting aimlessly, then the door opened again.

"Level Seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club and Ludicrous Patents Office."

No one entered this time, and it wasn't until the doors shut that Bode spoke again.

"What would it matter if Rookwood did something?" asked Bode. "I'm sure, whatever you're talking about, if you knew anything, that the Ministry wouldn't have put him in the Department of Mysteries had he done something worth mentioning."

"He cast the Cruciatus Curse on one of my friends," said Sirius, looking at Bode incredulously. "Doesn't anyone here know?"

"Dumbledore himself escorted him to the Ministry," added James. "I thought he was going to be tried –"

Hagrid gave a deep sigh and looked away from them.

"What is this rubbish you're talking about?" said Bode, now sounding angry. "The Cruciatus Curse – everyone and their mother knows they're illegal, thank you very much. And I do believe this is your floor."

The lift stopped once again, and the cool female voice announced: "Level Eight, the Atrium, including the Main Entrance, Visitor's Registry and the Fountain of Magical Brethren."

Hagrid stepped off and pulled them along with him quickly. Bode nodded to him and ignored James and Sirius. They watched the doors to the lift close; there was a hollow feeling in the pit of James's stomach.

"What do yeh think yer doin'?" growled Hagrid. "Yer not ter talk abou' anythin' related ter Rookwood, that's top-secret."

"Why's it top-secret?" asked James.

"Well, Dumbledore couldn' get them Wizengamot folk ter see his way – I mean," Hagrid added hastily, looking alarmed, "That's none of yer business, now. Don' go and make me spell it out fer yeh."

"Oh, come on, Hagrid," said James, grinning. "You know you want to tell us."

"Nah, I really don'," said Hagrid, staring around, probably as an excuse not to look at him or Sirius in the eye. "Look, there's our way outta here."

Without waiting for them, without saying anything else, Hagrid strode up to the fireplace, which erupted flames of emerald green as witches and wizards were born out of it; James and Sirius exchanged glances and followed closely behind.

"Go on then, both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Yer goin' first."

"Straight to Dumbledore's office, yeah?" asked James.

"Fer yeh, yeah," said Hagrid shortly. "No way a pixie like me can fit inter Professor Dumbledore's fireplace, though. I'm goin' straight ter my cabin."

Scooping a handful of Floo Powder from the container above the fireplace, James placed one leg on the ashen pile of ember and wood, then the other, and threw down the powder. Soon, he and Sirius found themselves shooed out of Dumbledore's office by a very surprised Dumbledore, who seemed to have been in the middle of a meeting. It was only several hours later, when his thoughts were lazy and distracted in the Head's Tower with Lily, that he realised there had been a hint of Wormwood and Asphodel coming from the closed potion shelf.

The night was one of cold winds and dry air. Among the four Marauders, only the werewolf carried the scent of alcohol and booze with him; hours ago, before the transformation had begun, before the werewolf had sat down on his tail, refusing to exit the Shrieking Shack – Gryffindor Tower was in a state of solemn, festive chaos.

The cause of that solemn festive chaos could be pinpointed down to one person – or two, depending on the perspective, conceded James. Remus's birthday had always been a sore subject, but now that it had landed on the full moon for the third time in a row, Remus was starting to get angry.

With Gryffindor parties came alcohol, mainly from Sirius's endless stash; here, James decided, was where he could find the second person to blame. As James, Sirius and Peter watched, horrified, Remus isolated himself in the corner of the common room, ignoring the others' pleas for photographs and singalongs, and downed himself in his sorrows and drunken goodness.

Trees rustled against the Shrieking Shack; owls hooted beyond the wooden walls; the many little sounds that gave the Forbidden Forest its sense of formidability shrieked and cawed and croaked around them; and yet, Moony the werewolf could not be bothered to care. His tail did not wag (for he was sitting on it), his tongue did not loll and slobber (for his great paws covered his mouth), and his howls did not join in the merry lament sung by the other animals; indeed, James decided that Moony the werewolf, just for tonight, was the most depressed werewolf in existence.

Padfoot jerked his back in what could have been interpreted as a shrug and lay down right next to Moony, nudging him gently with his snout. Moony did not budge once.

They stayed in the Shrieking Shack until morning came, shielding each other from the cold March breeze. As sunlight filtered in through the cracks and holes in the wooden walls, Moony's fur receded into his body, and he grew smaller and smaller until he was naked but for his trousers. Wormtail squeaked frantically beside his ear, but Remus looked, or rather smelled, as though he had just spent an entire night drinking. He curled up on the floor and skulked, waiting as the wolven features disappeared.

"Look lively, Moony," said Sirius, now back in human form. "Madam Pomfrey's not going to be too pleased to see you passed out on the floor."

"Have you ever heard of a drunk werewolf?" groaned Remus. "I smell like someone bathed me in alcohol. Why didn't you stop me from –"

Remus rolled flat over his stomach and moaned.

"I fucking hate my birthday," said Remus. "This is the most hungover I've ever felt – Merlin's beard why didn't you stop me from drinking?"

"You kept ignoring us," James reminded him. "Anyway, want anything to cover up? A blanket, or perhaps some clothes?"

"Blanket would be nice," murmured Remus.

James and the others watched from near the secret passageway as Remus adjusted the Conjured blanket about his body, his sullen look not disappearing from his face.

"We'll bring you a Pepperup Potion later, Moony," said Peter brightly, as they disappeared down the passageway. "Happy belated birthday!"

"Happy fucking birthday to me," said Remus, scowling. "Just go, I need to sleep."

A cursing Remus was never a happy Remus. James shot one last smile at his friend, who merely stared back at him with a bored look, and followed the boys back to the castle. It was a couple of hours until breakfast, so he decided to nap for a while in the boys' dormitory. When his alarm sounded, he trudged down the stairs with Sirius and Peter to the Great Hall. Lily and the rest of the girls were already seated on their benches, and they welcomed them warmly as they took up seats across them.

"M-morning," yawned Marlene, sliding them a jug of orange juice. "Some party last night, wasn't it? Remind me not to drink that whiskey of yours anymore, Sirius."

"Where's Remus?" asked Alice. "Is he sick again?"

The three of them automatically answered, "Yes." Glancing at them with an odd look, Alice disappeared behind her toast and pancakes.

Marlene whistled low. "Right after his birthday, too. Poor Remus."

"Oh, it's nothing serious," assured James. "You saw the way he was last night –"

"Depressed?" suggested Alice.

"I was going to say subdued, but yes, I guess that fits," said James, frowning. "Bloke's probably got alcohol poisoning, and I blame Sirius. No doubt Remus does, too."

Lily snorted.

As nine o'clock drew nearer, James ignored the rest of his friends and struck up a conversation with Marlene; their second Quidditch match was just in a few days, and he really needed to buckle down on their training. No one had any idea how Hufflepuff was going to play, as they must have changed up their strategies a bit since Bertram Aubrey wasn't playing anymore. He had just finished suggesting to Marlene that she spy on Hufflepuff's practice when Sirius tapped him on the shoulder.

James raised his eyebrow at his friend, missing Marlene's answer. "What?"

"Wormtail and I think it's about time to have some fun with our mates in Slytherin," said Sirius, ignoring James's annoyance. "We haven't had a chance to do anything all year."

"I had this idea of a Slug-vomiting Charm put on their drinks," said Peter, his eyes shining excitedly. "Only Sirius doesn't want anything to do with it –"

"And for good reason, that idea's utter rubbish," said Sirius, rounding on him. "Give me a break, Wormtail, think of something more creative, will you?"

"I'm not joining you," said James shortly.

Sirius and Peter turned to look at him.

"Why not?" asked Peter in an indignant voice, and a rather childish one, thought James.

"Prongs." Sirius snatched James's unfinished bagel from his plate. "Prongs, Prongs, Prongs. We get it. You can cut the Head-Boy-Never-Done-Anything-Wrong act now, it's starting to get old."

"I'm not joining you," repeated James, pushing his empty plate away. "I've got Quidditch to worry about – besides, don't you think it's time you stopped playing stupid jokes on people?"

"You and Snape still curse each other, rather cheerfully too, I might add," noted Peter.

"Yeah, well –" James laughed nervously and ran a hand through his hair. That part was very much true, but he wasn't going to admit it in front of Lily. "Look, I don't want any trouble before the Quidditch match, alright? You can go off and do whatever you want, but I'm not taking any chances."

"You're no fun anymore," complained Sirius. "How about you, Lilykins? We haven't had a chance to do anything together in ages. You're better than Prongsie here, anyways."

"Yeah, I think I'll pass," said Lily, standing up as the metallic bell rang throughout the Great Hall. "Appreciate you asking, though."

For the next few days, James battered both his mind and body as he struggled to keep up with school and Quidditch; it would all become worth it, though, when he marched down to the pitch on Saturday and saw who the new Hufflepuff Seeker was: Houde Prickett, who was famous for eating Kikimora eggs before exams 'for good luck'.

"Right!" James turned around and faced the team, his broomstick held in his hand. "Just stick to the game plan, and we'll be set. You do remember it, right?"

"If you're talking about the one where Hector swings the Bludger at me, then yes, I vaguely remember it," murmured Harley Johnson, a traumatised look on his face. "Mind you, it's hard to forget."

"Oh, posh," said Marlene brightly, joining James at the front of the team. "We'll all do great."

Madam Hooch trudged to the middle of the pitch, carrying a large, rattling trunk. She called James and the Hufflepuff captain over; they shook hands and waited for Madam Pomfrey to give the call; the stadium was deafening as usual, but he realised that most of the supporters were on Hufflepuff's side this time…

"Three… two… one…."

Then she blew the whistle, and James kicked off from the ground; immediately upon being released, he snatched the Quaffle out of Heidi Schmid's fingers and zoomed downwards, nearly touching the ground –

"Captain Prongs in possession with the Quaffle," said a familiar voice, wafting over the grounds. "Some say he's rather overrated, and I couldn't agree more – and there he goes, he pulls out of his dive – he ducks under Solomon's Bludger – nice shot, mate, nearly ripped his head off – he shoots, HE SCORES!"

James whipped his broom around, grinning, but at the same time he was slightly confused. Hadn't Sirius gotten banned from commentating…? Even from above, he could clearly see the black leather jacket – a gift from Lily – that Sirius insisted was cool enough to wear during the day. Beside Sirius, Professor McGonagall attempted to wrestle the megaphone away from his hands as he gave Marlene an enthusiastic greeting.

"...Professor, you're embarrassing us all! Anyways – it's Schmid with the Quaffle, passes down to Berthoud – intercepted by Salley, either Hector or Paris, you can't really blame me for not remembering…"

James waved an arm wildly at Paris; the Quaffle was thrown across the pitch, and he barely caught it – he zipped between the remaining defenders, trusting his Nimbus to carry him to victory –

"Nice, shot, Prongs! Twenty–nil to Gryffindor."

Harley and Paris both scored not long after, but Heidi nearly knocked James off his broom as he attempted to put in another goal. Swearing angrily, he pelted after her, but wasn't able to stop the large red ball soar past Charles's outstretched fingers. Marlene hovered high up in the air, scanning the stadium for any sign of the Snitch.

"Schmid scores again," announced Sirius in a bored voice, after Professor McGonagall had threatened to give him detention if he made any comments regarding anything outside Quidditch. "Hey – that bloke who eats spider eggs hasn't been doing much, has he?"

James squinted at Houde Prickett. He was indeed sitting idly on his broom beside the Hufflepuff goalposts, and only moved out of the way when the Quaffle came soaring in his direction, causing Professor McGonagall to add ten more points to Gryffindor's tally. Hufflepuff's end of the stadium groaned.

"Prickett? That's his name?" Sirius shook his head disbelievingly. "The nerve of some parents… Marlene McKinnon – now there's a nice name. Speaking of, she veers around, has she seen something?"

The stadium whipped towards Marlene; she was now racing towards the west end of the pitch, her hand extended. As quick as lightning, perhaps due to the spider eggs, Houde Prickett zoomed straight from his goalpost and followed her, catching up in no time.

"Ignore them!" bellowed James to his teammates. "Keep scoring, we need as many points as we can –"

He seized the Quaffle from Berthoud and passed it over to Paris, who returned it to him; taking aim, he pulled his arm back, then put as much force as he could into his wrist and he threw it; he knew he'd scored, but he found himself glancing back at the two Seekers, who were flying so closely it was hard to tell who was who.

"...flying neck and neck, it's McKinnon and Prick the spider-dick –"

"SIRIUS BLACK!"

Sirius's commentary was drowned out as Marlene suddenly sped up and whacked Prickett with the tail end of her broom; spiralling out of his trajectory, Prickett struggled to right his broom, but it was too late – Marlene caught the Snitch, and she raised her arm, bellowing like a banshee –

The stadium bellowed along with her. Madam Hooch blew her whistle. Up in the commentators' box, Sirius was still getting berated by McGonagall, but James knew that they had both noticed the Snitch getting caught. Minutes later, he and the rest of the team descended, wrapping Marlene in a many-armed hug. James got off his broom and looked up to see a flock of Gryffindor supporters streaming onto the pitch. He pulled off his Chaser's goggles and spotted Peter at the very front, whooping at the top of his lungs.

"Party in the Gryffindor common room, Emmeline says!" exclaimed Marlene to James, letting herself get pulled by Lily along with the rest of the crowd.

"Brilliant goal there, Prongs! One of the best I've ever seen!" said Peter, looking delighted. "The way you flew right past Schmid and Berthoud –"

"Was it, really?" asked James, but he couldn't help but grin. "I dunno, I feel like Harley's second goal was better."

"No – I mean, it was brilliant, but yours –"

"Honestly, Pettigrew, from the way you talk you'd think they just won the World Cup or something – but what else can you expect from a fat little fanboy?" said a voice behind them.

James and Peter turned around to see Avery and a bunch of other Slytherins pushing past the other supporters, trying to get to the gates.

Peter turned red. "Shut your mouth, Avery."

"Make me," said Avery, stopping in his tracks and stomping directly over to them. Peter sneaked behind James, looking nervous.

"Y'see, Pettigrew," continued Avery, a malicious glint in his eyes. "Word is that you've been planning on sabotaging our House with one of your little pranks. I'd tread lightly from now on, if I were you."

"Is – is that a threat, Avery?" squeaked Peter.

Avery laughed. "No, you buck-toothed rantallion, I'm inviting you over for tea. Need I spell it out for you?"

"Get lost, Avery," said James quietly.

Avery was probably a head shorter than James, but he got right up in his face and smirked at him.

"Didn't see you there, Potter," he spat out. "This is between me and Pettigrew, so you get back to your little girlfriend and leave us alone."

James did not back down, and glared down at Avery so that they were nearly eye-to-chest.

"Why don't you take your own advice, or I'll give you detention till next week," snarled James, stepping forwards so that his body pushed against his. "You're just begging for a fight now, Avery."

Avery flinched, perhaps involuntarily, but he still had that ugly look etched onto his harsh face.

"You really are a spoiled brat, Potter," he murmured, his voice low. "I'm warning you, if I catch you sneaking around the dungeons one more time, I swear I'll –"

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" snapped James. "No one's been sneaking around your stupid dungeons –"

People were starting to look now. James plunged his hand in the neck of his scarlet robes right as Avery did the same, and they pulled out their wands. Just when it looked as though Avery was about to launch at James, a distraction came in the form of Hermes Burke, separating himself from the main Slytherin gaggle thronging near the gates of the Quidditch pitch.

"That's enough, Avery," said Hermes sharply, then he turned to James and nodded. "Good game, Potter. Congrats."

"Hey, Hermes," said James, not taking his eyes off Avery.

"Easy there," said Hermes to Avery, as though he was soothing a wild animal. "Come on, let's go back to the others –"

Avery shoved Hermes off him and stalked off. Hermes, looking affronted, scoffed and excused himself.

"Th-thanks, Prongs," muttered Peter, once Avery and Hermes had disappeared in the Slytherin crowd. "I dunno what I'd have done if I were alone –"

"Peter," said James, crossing his arms. "You haven't been sneaking around the Slytherin dungeons, have you?"

Peter didn't answer, and merely looked at his shoes. He reminded James of a child getting scolded. He was about to open his mouth to tell him off again when he was interrupted by a voice coming from the stands.

"What's up with you two?" asked Sirius, jumping down from the low benches onto the pitch. "I thought I was the only one going to be late, there's a party in the common room!"

"It's nothing," said James, turning away from Peter. His voice was low with disappointment. "And I'm not going to the party, I'm going to see Remus."

"Oh – oh yeah," said Sirius hollowly, glancing at the last of the crowd leaving the pitch. "Yeah, you're right. We need to see Remus."

And they set off, away from the drink and festivities as, for the second time that week, Gryffindor Tower threw the biggest of parties, towards the Hospital Wing.

"You really shouldn't have come," said Remus some fifteen minutes later. "You're just forcing yourself at this point."

He seemed much more relaxed than he had been in the Shrieking Shack, though James chalked it off to having just transformed from being a werewolf. It was nearing noon now, and Gryffindor parties tended to go on all day until well into the night. James found that he preferred being in the Hospital Wing than Gryffindor Tower at the moment; after what he'd just heard from Avery, he wasn't really in the mood to mingle.

"It's just a party, Moony," said Sirius, leaning on Remus's pillow from where he sat on the bed. "There'll be plenty more to come, right, Prongs?"

"Not really," said James. "N.E. are just in a few months, I doubt we'll have time to celebrate anything before then."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Please. Your birthday's coming up soon, I doubt you'll want us to ignore it."

He helped himself to a handful of Chocolate Frogs sitting on Remus's drawer, threw a few to James and Peter, and ripped off the wrapper. He was still in his ridiculous leather jacket, which he'd refused to take off even when Madam Pomfrey threatened to Vanish it from him.

"Well, no, I love getting presents," admitted James. "Don't really want a party, though."

"There you go, then," said Sirius triumphantly.

Remus was only allowed out of the Hospital Wing when the lunch bell rang, and even then he had to take two potions to be able to walk without support. They went at a much slower pace than usual, and when the four reached the Great Hall most of the students had already sat down and begun eating. The exception was Gryffindor; James concluded that the party would not last long, seeing as Sirius was with him, but they would make do with other methods.

"There you are!"

James turned around and found Lily, alone, hurrying over to him from the marble steps.

He waited for her to reach them before speaking. "What's up?"

"Knew you were with Remus," said Lily, smiling at them. Remus raised a thin arm in greeting. "We missed you in the Gryffindor common room, can't say the party's much fun without you lot around."

Sirius grinned. "I bet you were all hopeless without us."

"Anyway," Lily continued, rummaging in robes, "I was told to deliver this to you, Sirius, it's from Professor McGonagall…"

She pulled out a thin scroll of parchment and handed it to Sirius.

"...I'd feel sorry for you, but I can't say Professor McGonagall wasn't justified this time," said Lily, smiling sourly.

Sirius read over the note, his mouth parting as his eyes went from one word to the next.

"Detention for a week!" he moaned, thrusting the scroll to James. "This can't be about my commentary, can it?"

"I'd read the back, if I were you," said Lily.

Sirius grabbed the note back from James and turned it over. His eyes squinted in confusion as he finished reading.

"Being near the dungeons after curfew?" said Sirius incredulously. "What's she talking about?"

"Well, have you been wandering out after curfew?" asked James.

Sirius shook his head. "Even if I was, I wouldn't have gotten caught, you know that. I've been holding my desires in until after your Quidditch match."

His eyes turned to regard Peter, who had stayed silent throughout the conversation.

"There was an awful lot of noise last night in our dorm, Wormtail," said Sirius slowly. "Remus was in the Hospital Wing, and James was in the Head's Tower. Woke me up, you did."

Peter shuffled nervously. "Er…"

"Peter, it's bad enough for your little plan to have been found out by Avery," said James, rounding on him as well. "Now you're telling me you got caught?"

"Maybe go to Professor McGonagall," said Remus, as Sirius opened his mouth to add on. "Ask for the detentions to be transferred, or something."

Sirius crossed his arms, scowling. "All right, fine. You're coming with me, Peter."

He seized Peter by the arm and marched off. James sat down with Remus and Lily at the nearly-empty Gryffindor table. Dumbledore was gone, as usual, and so was Professor McGonagall, who was probably writing another detention slip for some other poor student. Lily got up halfway through lunch to tell off a couple of giggling Ravenclaws, who had made a sort of snowman out of their mashed potatoes, which was now throwing bits of its body at everything that moved.

"What're the chances McGonagall lets off Sirius?" said Remus, watching Lily scold the Ravenclaws.

"Less than zero, I s'pose," said James, tipping more lamb chops onto his plate. "You know McGonagall, she doesn't take too kindly to stupid Quidditch commentators. Not to mention she'll probably think it was all thought out between Sirius and Peter."

Lily returned at the same time as Sirius and Peter did, the latter sporting a nervous look on his face and the former a very ugly one. When the boys sat down across James, Sirius pushed himself as far away from Peter as he could.

"No luck?" said James sympathetically.

"It's been reduced to three days," said Sirius, stabbing his sausage. "Doesn't change the fact that this was completely unfair."

They spent the rest of their lunch firmly bashing Professor McGonagall's unreasonable punishments, and by the time the bell rang Sirius looked slightly better. Peter still remained quiet and nervous, but James had no desire to make him feel better; the problem, after all, was Peter.

"Sirius –" started Peter, as they headed down the Charms corridor.

"Not now, Peter," said Sirius vindictively.

"But there's something you should all know, and I'm not sure whether I should stop –"

"I said not now," snarled Sirius.

Peter sighed.

"You're going out?" asked James incredulously. "Why?"

It was late afternoon on Sunday; the sky outside was yellow and orange, and the sun hung low over the Black Lake; the castle beyond the Head's Tower was very noisy with the usual sounds of students running around and conversing. James had been reading one of Lily's Muggle books when the owner came barging in through the portrait, looking harried.

"Bit of an emergency," said Lily, waving him off. "One of Hagrid's Hippogriffs got injured while flying over the lake, he needs my help patching up the poor thing's wing."

"The Hippogriff got injured while flying over the lake?" repeated James. "Isn't that… a bit ironic?"

"Tell that to the Giant Squid," said Lily grimly. "By the way, you're sitting on my bag. Could you –?"

James pulled Lily's bag from under him and handed it to her. He watched as she rummaged around inside it, summoning a few items from her room that James only vaguely knew the names of.

"Right," she said a few moments later, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. "I'll be back for dinner, if Hagrid doesn't force-feed me his rock cakes first."

Shuddering, she waved goodbye to him and hurried out of the portrait hole.

James resumed his book; he had been reading for five minutes before Lily had come in, and yet, he couldn't seem to take in a single word. He mindlessly turned the pages, skimming over the foreign sentences and phrases that went over his head.

He set the book down on his chest and closed his eyes; he was quite tired, though he hadn't done much except sit around all day.

The portrait hole opened again, and Lily stalked in. Groaning, he opened a single eye, and said, "Did you forget some –"

It was not Lily who had entered, but Remus. James opened both his eyes and sat straight up, letting the book fall on the floor.

"Moony," said James, surprised. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing," said Remus brightly. "Just came to inform you that two third-year Ravenclaws toppled over the statue of Fringilla the Featherbrained."

James stared at him. "And you wanted to tell me, why…?"

"You're the one who's hoarding all the detention slips," said Remus. "Can't blame me, can you?"

James gestured lazily at the far end of the coffee table, where a handful of thin, paper notes lay strewn about in a messy pile. "Take as many as you want."

He snuggled up to a pillow and tried to position himself so that he would be comfortable on the couch. Expecting Remus to leave, he shut his eyes.

When Remus did not move, James sighed deeply and squinted at him. "What is it?"

Shaking his head, Remus marched over and pulled him up to his feet.

"Come on," he said, grabbing a small number of detention slips from the coffee table. "As Head Boy, you should be the one who's handing out the detention to them."

"But I was going to sleep, Moony," complained James, still clinging to his pillow. "You of all people should know the importance of an uninterrupted, well night's –"

"For Merlin's sake, Prongs, it's not even six yet!" Remus knocked on the portrait of the Two Wizards, and it swung open. James's feet felt heavy, and his vision was blurry from his lopsided glasses, but he allowed Remus to haul him through the corridor.

Fringilla the Featherbrained's statue was located nearby in the north wing, close to Ravenclaw Tower, where they found the scene vacant except for two nervous-looking small boys. Poor Fringilla herself lay in pieces around the floor, her sad, stone eyes staring up at James as though pleading for him to end her suffering.

"Right," muttered James, crossing his arms over his pillow. "You two boys – you've been very bad, and very naughty –"

"James," said Remus reprovingly.

"Right," said James again. "You two boys – you've just committed an act of such atrocity, words can't even begin to describe how vile it was. Your crime was heinous to the utmost degree, and I doubt poor Fringilla would have liked –"

"James, I swear –"

"Fine," grumbled James. "Can't have any fun with you now. Well, you two are well aware of what you've done, so I'm not going to scold you for it. Believe me, I've been in the same boat millions of times. So – your punishment," he added, for Remus was glaring at him with a dangerous look, "Er… what're your names, again?"

He conjured a clipboard out of thin air and fastened the detention slips on it. Borrowing Remus's quill and ink, he looked expectantly at the two small Ravenclaws.

"Er… my name's Jason Chivay," said the one on the right, a blond boy with watery eyes. "And my friend's Aesop Wilkinson."

"Nice name," commented James, scribbling on the two detention slips. "Let's see… Moony, is there any specific rule that states what happens to a student if they knock over a priceless ancient statue?"

"Not that I know of, no," said Remus, pondering. "We knocked over Gregory in our fourth year, but we got let off on a technicality, I think. There were plans for moving him to the fifth floor."

James snorted and turned back to the Ravenclaws. "This isn't a technicality, though. Right, you'll both get detention, and I'll have Filch observe you." He regarded them both with an air of mock expertise. "Yeah, you'll do well in cleaning the broomshed."

He turned to Remus and raised an eyebrow. "Now, was that so hard?"

"I would've had to confirm it with you anyway," said Remus, rolling his eyes. "Well, we're done here, so –"

But they were not done, for at that moment, the sound of frantic footsteps rang throughout the corridor, and slowly, out of surprise, perhaps, since they were the only ones there, James and the others turned their heads and found a girl skidding to a halt around the north wing corner. Her green Slytherin Prefect's badge glinted in the low light of the sun.

"Potter," gasped Fortuna Greengrass, panting heavily. "There's – there's a fight on the third floor –"

She slumped against the wall, her eyes wide.

"Sorry," she squeaked, "It's – a long – way –"

Her words were punctuated by short puffs of breath. James and Remus exchanged looks.

"Slow down," said Remus soothingly. "Who's fighting? Why?"

"Avery," mumbled Fortuna. "And – and your friend, Pettigrew. Something – something about jinxing Mulciber?"

"Great," muttered James. "Why didn't you stop it? You're a prefect, after all."

"There was nothing I could say," said Fortuna listlessly. "Potter – it was looking bad, Sirius Black told me to get you…"

"Well, why didn't he ask for Professor McGonagall?" scowled James. "Or anybody, really?"

Fortuna shrugged.

James ran both his hands through his unkempt hair; his day was just getting better and better. "What the bloody hell is Peter doing these days, anyway? It's just one problem after the next –"

He kicked a piece of Fringilla across the floor angrily.

"– it's not my fault Peter's an incapable idiot –"

"Prongs." Remus was frowning at him, his face etched with disapproval. "Wormtail needs our help. For all we know, this could just be some big misunderstanding."

"Merlin damn me," fumed James. "Why can't he get it through that thick head of his –"

"Prongs."

Remus's eyes held a silent plea in them. James tried to calm down; he knew he was being a bit unreasonable, but at the same time, he wanted to vent out his feelings about Peter.

Nevertheless, for all of Peter's faults, he was still his friend, someone he had known for seven years now, someone he had shared many of his favourite memories with.

"Alright," said James finally. "Alright, come on. You're coming too, Greengrass."

"What – but I thought you wanted me to get McGonagall?" said Fortuna, looking surprised.

"When did I say that? Actually –" James rounded on the two small Ravenclaws, who had remained silent throughout the entire conversation. "You two, I'll let you off detention if you go and fetch Professor McGonagall. Bring her to the – what was it?"

He turned to Remus and Fortuna.

"Third floor," said Fortuna helpfully. "Near the armoury, right by the alcove."

"You heard her," said James, turning back to the two Ravenclaws. "McGonagall's probably in the staffroom. Understand?"

The Ravenclaws nodded and dashed off. James ripped apart the detention slips, stuffed them in his pocket, then thrust his pillow and clipboard at Remus.

"I hate my job," growled James. "Come on."