Chapter Twenty-One: Ten Ways to Get Your Ego in Check and Stop Being a Prick
"So did he tell you what happened at the party?" Remus asked as they sat at their favorite table in the library, Pince digging into a bag of licorice Scottie dogs with the faintest shadow of a wink at James.
"No," Sirius scowled, "he...he said some stuff about Voldemort and then walked away. Why don't we just ask our new best mates Mayfair and Hughes?"
"Because they'll lie," Remus said.
"Hey now," James said, "they're on our side, yeah?"
"How do we know that?" Remus said, and Sirius looked at him, reconsidering. He'd always thought Remus was the trusting type, like James... too trusting in fact. But here he was, saying the thing Sirius was thinking.
"Well, they seem honest," James said, naively, "they told us the truth about-"
"Bollocks to that," Sirius snorted, "they hid everything from us. The only reason we found out is because of the cloak."
"See," James said smugly, "and you said that stalking never leads to anything good."
Remus sighed, rubbing his temples. "So what do we have?" he said.
"Well, we need to get revenge on the Slytherins," Pete said, "we need to get those four who tied you and Evans up expelled," he ticked off on his fingers, "we need to get James dating Evans and Sirius dating Granger."
"I don't need help with dating Granger," Sirius said, outraged, "I can do it myself. And while I'm at it, I don't want to date her at all, what are you-"
"We need to figure out what happened in that common room," Pete continued like Sirius hadn't spoken, "we need to figure out what is going on with Dumbledore and Granger. Quorty told me she was in his office again this morning when she should've been in Ancient Runes."
"Was she?" Remus said, interested.
"Doing what?" James said, "good work, Worms." Pete grinned.
"You think I need help getting Granger to date me?" Sirius seethed, "have you looked at me?"
At least four different girls, including Rose Kensington and Geraldine Gudgeon, were staring at him with looks of barely repressed longing from other parts of the library.
"And so modest, too," Remus murmured, chewing on his quill.
"Dunno," Pete said, "but Quorty said she was in there for an hour or so. He's mates with one of the gargoyles that guards Dumbledore's office. Also, we need to figure out what's going on between her and Regulus-"
"Nothing," Sirius said, "Regulus couldn't find a girl's body with a-"
"-and what she's doing in tiny loos with Greek guys."
"Greek guys who are working with Dumbledore against Voldemort," Remus nodded.
"I can get her snogging me within days," Sirius seethed, "just wait."
"Imperius doesn't count," Remus said solemnly.
"Neither does love potions," Pete said.
"Or bribery," James nodded, "anyway, I tried bribery to get her to snog me and-"
"Stop bringing that up," Sirius said, "unless you want Evans to find out, you tit. And I don't need to use magic to get a girl to snog me."
"Oh, we know," Remus said, "it's just, this girl in particular-"
"She's going to snog me by my birthday," Sirius vowed, "trust me."
"Sure," Remus said, only the barest hint of disbelief in his voice, "only, why are you trying to snog her, again? I thought you were back to thinking she's Voldemort's niece or whatever."
"Well you know me," Sirius said, ignoring the part of his brain that was screaming at him in Remus's voice, asking why he wanted to snog Granger at all, "I like to live dangerously."
"I've got the ostrich feathers," James said triumphantly the next afternoon as they lounged by the lake, "or at least, mum's sending them soon."
"Ostrich feathers?" Remus asked wearily, as he read a dull book on garden gnomes.
"Excellent," Sirius yawned, "for my birthday, I presume? You all have prepared properly, haven't you? Haven't forgotten me in the excitement of stalking Evans going better than usual and all that?"
"Pads," James said indignantly, rummaging in his book bag, "does this look like I've forgotten you?" he triumphantly pulled out yet another notebook. This one had rainbow dolphins on it, but Sirius couldn't bring himself to puncture James's stationary related euphoria by pointing out rainbow dolphins were the taste of a nine year old girl. And well, even if James knew, he might not care. That was one of the reasons he loved James so much.
"Don't open it!" Pete said hastily, shoving at the notebook, "he can't-"
"I'm not going to open it, Worms," James assured Pete, "you know he hates having his surprises spoiled."
"That I do," Sirius said, "that's why I'm confused about the ostrich feathers. Unless you're informing me you're making Granger a particularly obscene outfit for me?"
"Why don't we just put her in a Death Eater mask," Remus muttered, "like you think she wears in her free time."
"As long as her tits are covered in ostrich feathers only," Sirius said, and Pete giggled.
"The ostrich feathers are for the Slytherins," James snapped, "come on, Pads, have you even been paying attention to our plans? You're the one banging on and on about us getting revenge, right, 'oh James has gone soft, he doesn't want to do pranks against the Slytherins anymore, he's going to be best friends with Snivellus, blah blah.'"
"I would never say something so cruel, as you being best friends with Snivellus," Sirius said, stretching out in the weak sun. Bloody Scotland.
Remus cleared his throat.
"What?" Sirius said, "I've grown as a person."
Pete coughed.
"I've matured," Sirius said, nettled, "like a fine wine."
"Do you even know a fine wine?" Remus murmured to his bloody book.
"Yes," Sirius snapped, "did you forget how I was raised? Come on. The hag was giving me wine in my tea at the age of six to get me asleep."
"She actually put effort in putting you to bed?" Pete said, "I thought she was like. Letting you get raised by Kreacher and I dunno. A vampire."
"Grandmum Irma was only rumored to be a vampire, I'll have you know," Sirius said, "though she did suck your lifeforce out of you like a particularly twisted dementor, I'll grant you."
"Is there any other kind of dementor than a twisted one," Remus muttered.
"What is your problem?" Sirius demanded.
"It's that time of the month," Pete said in a carrying whisper.
Remus slammed the book shut.
"It is not," he said, "that was days ago."
"Then why are you being a snide little bastard?" Sirius said, spotting something on the map he'd been pretending to casually peruse and sitting bolt upright, "hang on, nevermind, I don't care."
"Of course you don't," Remus said rudely, but Sirius was already lunging to his feet.
"Pads, what about our revenge plans?" Pete said.
"What about your birthday plans for tomorrow?" James added, as Sirius shoved his robes he'd been pillowing his head on into his book bag.
"What about that grass stain on your arse?" Remus said.
"What about that broom up your arse," Sirius retorted, his eyes glued to the map still, "Dammit, they're on the move!" he bolted away from his mates without a glance back, but he still heard Pete asking James who was on the move.
"Your mum!" Sirius bellowed over his shoulder, staring at the two dots that were his brother and Granger on the seventh floor corridor of the abandoned part of the castle.
Was that where they'd been going this whole time? He saw a group of Gryffindor girls and shoved the map into his bag as well. No matter. He knew where he was going.
He pelted into the castle, ignoring a group of Slytherin seventh year girls which probably included the increasingly annoying and weepy Sami Greengrass, flew by a group of third year Ravenclaws, sprinted up six stairwells, sweating, and pulled out the map again.
"Dammit!" he shouted, and almost punched a wall until he saw the two dots in a room that usually housed a collection of antique teapots.
He stuffed the map in his bag and hastened away, through a hidden passageway lined with portraits of flowers and goblins. Creating the map had had many benefits, one of which was the encyclopedic knowledge they'd all retained on the many bizarre aspects of Hogwarts. Too late, he realized James had the cloak and almost swore again. Well, he had been practicing how to get on without one, if he ever wasn't able to use James's cloak. And he wasn't one of the smartest wizards in the school for nothing. He took a deep breath, and cast a disillusionment charm, the cold feeling trickling down his spine and causing him to break into goosebumps. He stared at the door. He could try the Peeves door trick again, but Granger would see right through that. That left only one option.
He got on the floor, wriggled around like a total idiot, and punctured the muffling charm he encountered with a well placed counter hex. He shoved his ear against the door. If his mates asked later, he'd make up something cooler then him eavesdropping under a door on the floor like a half dead bug.
"-whining about now?" he heard Reg say snidely.
"You're the one speaking like a sullen twelve year old," Granger retorted.
"Don't be mad at me just because I'm not doing what you want," Reg said, "it's unbecoming."
"Same to you," Granger said.
There was such a long silence Sirius debated whether he should get up and hide in case one of them was about to storm off and step on him. His ears were too shapely to get squashed under a foot like that.
"So, there's nothing I can do to change your mind?" Reg said, "I can prove it to you, you know. Do you want to meet him?"
"You've met him?" Granger asked.
"Of course," Reg said, "Bella introduced us."
For one moment, Sirius felt his heart stop beating. No. Reg couldn't be saying what he thought he was saying.
"And what did you think?" Granger said, "was he as...magnificent as they all say?" There was the faintest hint of something off in her voice.
"Even better than they say," Reg said, "his knowledge is immense. His skill is prodigious. He's generous to those who believe in him."
Sirius felt like he was going to vomit. No. it couldn't be. They couldn't be talking about Voldemort.
"And you're sure he wants a Muggleborn in his ranks?" Granger said, "why would he?"
"Blood status is irrelevant, when it comes to talent," Reg assured her, "have you convinced Evans yet? You're doing good work with getting her to like you. I tried, at Slug's parties, but-"
"I haven't brought it up to her," Granger said, voice subdued.
"Maybe Snape would help?" Reg said, "he's weird I know, so you'd have to sacrifice by talking to him, but he's wanted to join for ages, and he-"
"No," Granger blurted, "he's...no. Not him. He's not a good fit."
"You're right," Reg said, "I wasn't thinking clearly. His family alone…"
"Then why is mine okay?" Granger demanded, "I don't believe you. I don't believe he wants me."
Sirius bit his own arm so he didn't scream in was too late. Too late for Reg. Why hadn't he tried harder? Stayed at home and took the abuse and steered Reg right while he still could? Or why hadn't he taken Reg with him, fled the house of horrors with his brother? The Potters would've taken Reg in as well. Made him their third son. If his terrible parents tried to stop them the Potters were well connected and rich enough to fight them and win. And then Reg would've seen there was another way for pure-bloods to be. A better way.
"He does," Reg insisted to Grange, "Bella's told him all about you. He wants talented witches, like I said."
"What about the fact that Dumbledore is my godfather?" Granger asked. "That isn't a problem?"
"A bonus, really," Reg said, "the Dark Lord has always admired Dumbledore."
Granger snorted.
"He has," Reg insisted, "he respects his knowledge and magical prowess and-"
"He thinks Uncle Al is a bleeding heart idiot, don't lie," Granger said.
"No," Reg disagreed, "you're wrong."
"You're wrong," Granger said, "about everything. I thought you were coming to your senses. Talking to your brother more. Thinking for yourself."
"What has he got to do with anything?" Reg said, resentment thick in his voice. "What are you talking about, I'm wrong? I thought you agreed with me."
"I can't pretend anymore," Granger said, "and I'm clearly getting nowhere in changing your mind. I think Voldemort is an idiot."
Sirius stifled a laugh.
"Don't use his name," Reg said, "what's wrong with you? you said-"
"He's an idiot, and you shouldn't follow an idiot," Granger said, "Regulus, you're better than that. Truly. You're smart, you're funny, you-"
"Sirius sent you," Reg said furiously, "didn't he? This was all his plan."
"What? No," Granger said too swiftly, like she was lying, but Sirius knew she wasn't. How could he have sent her when he had no bloody clue what the flying fuck was going on?
"It was," Reg said, sounding really mad now, "he's been pretending this whole time, hasn't he? That he hates you? That he distrusts you? He planted you, made you ask me for those books, made me trust you, made me try to recruit you, and it was a sham so you could-"
"He has nothing to do with it," Granger interrupted, "I assure you, he hates me. Or at least, he thinks I'm evil."
"And Dearborn," Reg ranted on, like she hadn't spoken, "you're not trying to sway him to the Dark Lord's side. That was a lie. Are you fucking Dearborn, like Sirius thought?"
"Don't be absurd," Granger scoffed, "he's twenty-six!"
"Either way," Reg said, "you're not recruiting him. He recruited you. Didn't he?" Granger's silence was answer enough. "And now you're trying to recruit me. For Dumbledore's little gang. Aren't you? As what? A spy?"
"You'd do better there," Granger said, "with Uncle Al. He actually cares about people, Regulus. Voldemort doesn't."
"Don't say his name," Regulus said ominously, "and like Dumbledore cares about Slytherins. Don't make me laugh. He hates us. We're scum to him."
"You're not," Granger insisted, "look, it's not your fault you were raised the way you were, really. But you know better, I know you do. Can't you see, Voldemort uses people, he casts them aside, he doesn't care if you live or die, you're nothing to him-"
"You're wrong," Reg said coldly.
"Uncle Al can use someone like you," Granger said, "you're so smart, you're brave, I know deep down you care, you know the difference between right and wrong, we could really use a wizard like you in-"
"I'd rather drink Sluggy's piss," Reg said brutally, "now get out of my face. We're done. I don't ever want to see you again."
There was a beat.
"We go to the same school," Granger pointed out.
"Shut up," Reg said, "go fuck my brother like he wants, since you can't figure out how Sirius feels about you. There. I solved it. He wants to fuck you, cause you're a challenge. That will be it for you two though, I'm afraid. After he fucks you he'll cast you aside like he does everyone else."
"You're wrong about him too," Granger said, "he loves you, I know he-"
Without warning, the door banged open, and Sirius had microseconds to roll out of the way, terrified Reg was about to step on him. Reg had one arm on the door. He turned back to look at Granger.
"Sirius doesn't love me," he said bitterly, "nor does he care about you. Have fun getting used, I suppose. He only loves himself."
Sirius sat crushed against the wall, heart hammering, as his little brother stormed off. After a moment, he ventured closer to the coor, craning his head to look inside. Granger was sitting on a desk, her knees curled into her forehead, crying.
I was wrong, Sirius thought, feeling sick. It wasn't a thought he often had. I was wrong about everything.
"What's got your wand in a knot, Moony?" James asked, flipping through the pages of his dolphin notebook in their library corner, "it's bad enough dealing with Pads lately."
"Two of you is too much," Pete agreed, chewing on his quill, "listen, should I say a thestral only appears if you've witnessed murder, or is it just death?"
"Death," Remus said absently, watching Sirius glowering against a bookshelf, arms crossed as he watched the library door. Something had happened the night before. Something awful. And he'd refused to tell them about it. Or he'd refused to tell Remus and Pete, at least. Maybe he'd told James. Remus shoved down the resentment that had started to creep in when he thought about James and Sirius's relationship. He wasn't being fair. They were best mates. They spent their summers together. It's not like they excluded Remus. Not really. He should just be happy they were friends with a boring, poor werewolf at all.
"So did he tell you?" he asked James abruptly.
"Er, what?" James said, pausing in his notes. There was something about Granger jumping out of a cake covered in whipped cream in it.
"She'll never do that," Remus warned him, "not even if you give her more money." That had sounded bitter too. What the hell was wrong with him, lately?
"You're speaking in riddles," Pete said, writing carefully a line about thestrals and death.
"Do you know why Sirius is in a strop this time?" Remus clarified, finishing up his own essay. As usual, James and Sirius somehow never seemed to do homework, yet always aced everything. "Also, Granger won't jump out of a cake covered in whipped cream for his party. Not unless the whipped cream is poisonous to those who ate it."
"Maybe, if we told her it was poisonous," James said thoughtfully, looking around the library. He deflated, but whether it was because neither Granger nor Evans was around Remus didn't know. "And the strop, something about Regulus again. I think. You know how that little shite gets under his skin." There was a faint note of bitterness in James's tone that Remus recognized as being in his own heart, and he felt the kinship of loathing the same bigoted little arsewipe. His spirit lifted a bit.
"I don't know why," Pete said unexpectedly, "Regulus is the biggest tosser in this school." There was an even heavier note of bitterness in Pete's tone.
Almost in unison, they all set down their quills, ready to bash Regulus Black together. No matter what the little arsehole did, no matter how many times Sirius protested that he didn't care about his brother, they all knew the truth. Sirius would do anything for his baby brother. And the feeling was not mutual.
"He's got terrible hair," James said with relish, without the slightest hint of irony. His own black hair was half spiked on one side, flat on the other.
"He's so skinny he's got legs like an ostrich," Pete said, scratching at his own cheek with his quill. A cheek that could charitably be called chubby.
"He's pale as a deep-sea lizard fish," Remus said eagerly, spotting his own translucent forearm and pretending he wasn't being a hypocrite.
"A what?" Pete said.
"They're disgusting and pale with giant eyes," Remus said.
"Sounds like dear old Regulus," James agreed, "is it one of those, waddyacallit. Parasites?"
"They swim on the ocean floor and eat even their own kind," Remus said, now really warming up.
"Definitely a perfect analogy," James murmured, staring at Sirius with narrowed eyes, "listen, if we don't invite Regulus to his party will Pads be mad?"
"Why would he be?" Pete said, "we never do."
"Well he's acting weird lately, in case you haven't noticed," James said, "even for him, I mean."
They all turned to gaze at Sirius, who was fiddling with his sleeves, rolling them and unrolling them over and over. His robes were still on the empty chair next to Pete, along with his bookbag. Sirius never fiddled with his clothes like that.
"It was probably the howler," Pete said, "at breakfast. That was awful."
"And on his birthday too," Remus said, shaking his head, feeling some of his irritation at Sirius dissipate. It was hard to stay mad at him for long. Walburga Black had sent the worst howler she'd ever sent to one of her sons, and considering she'd once sent Sirius a howler in third year that had made James's left ear bleed, that was saying something.
The howler had exploded as soon as it landed, not even giving Sirius time to run away, his traditional birthday toast (bread covered in James approved marmalade and Remus approved chocolate spread) half in his mouth. Walburga had screamed about his broken engagement to Sami Greengrass that apparently was entirely the fault of a Muggleborn, Sirius's own failings as a son, and a demon that had apparently cursed her upon his birth to give her such a horrible son. That had all been bellowed at a sonic boom in less than four seconds.
Sirius being Sirius, he'd sat and eaten his toast as the howler screamed, feigning deafness, even while everyone else covered their ears, some even hiding under the table in terror.
"She's only embarrassing herself," Sirius had shrugged after, when James had stared at him, eyes watering in pain from the howls of Walburga Black as she disowned Sirius for the second time, this time publicly.
"And don't come crawling back begging me for forgiveness again!" The howler had ended, "not even if you're marrying Clara Bellerose!" Clara Bellerose, it turned out, when James explained later, was a French witch of notorious good breeding, beauty, connections, and above all, wealth.
"Best birthday gift the she devil has ever given me," Sirius had shrugged, as the rest of the Great Hall cowered in the ringing aftermath. Someone at the Slytherin table laughed, but the Gryffindors laughed harder, then cheered. Sirius stood up and took a theatrical bow, still chewing toast. Sami Greengrass had been teary-eyed again. What had Sirius told the girl about their agreement? Surely, surely he'd told her the truth?
Only the Marauders had seen the look in Sirius's eyes beneath the easy smile and relaxed posture.
"You're going to love our party, Pads," Pete had blurted, trying desperately to cheer up his dark mood.
"I'm sure I will, Worms," Sirius had said, the look not leaving his eyes.
"Do I jump out of a cake?" Granger had said from behind them. James and Pete turned, but Remus looked at Sirius, whose face went through a series of contortions so odd he had no idea what had just happened.
"Ask me later,'' James had said in a stage whisper, winking at Granger, the relief coming off of James in waves.
It was Marauder tradition to make sure each and every one of them had a spectacular birthday. There had been that one chancy year when Remus had been a werewolf that night, but even then they'd celebrated wildly during the day, gotten Remus his body weight in chocolates, and an entire trunk of rare books. There had been last year when Sirius was reminded he was of age and without a family, but there'd also been Poppy Portis coming out of a cake, kisses from half the girls in Gryffindor fifth year and up, and a giant stuffed Snivellus for Sirius to hit like a pinata after Evans had gone to bed. The tradition had to live on, and Granger being nice to Sirius certainly couldn't hurt.
Granger had stated at Sirius, moving her hands around like she was about to do something with them. Was Sirius about to get punched on his own birthday?
"It would make the day better," Sirius had sighed, "I'm so depressed and all. Will you be wearing your knickers only, or full nude?"
"Oh look," Granger had said, pointing to the nearest window, "there it went."
"What?" Pete had said, squinting at where she was pointing.
"My sympathy for Black's birthday starting out this wretched," Granger had said, and they all laughed, even Sirius.
Maybe James was right. Maybe Sirius really did need a girl like Granger to rein in his life. Sure, they had nothing in common on paper, and she wasn't his type, not really, and Sirius maybe thought she was evil, but…
"I need to talk to you," Sirius had said through the laughter, to Granger, "it's important."
"Now?" She had sighed, "for the last time, Black, I don't want cake frosting in my arse crack."
James had guffawed so hard pumpkin juice flew out of his nose.
"That's not what you said last night," Sirius had quipped, but there was something still in his eyes. Something Remus had never seen before.
"After Arithmancy," Granger had said finally.
"Cake frosting in your arse crack then?" Pete had quipped.
This time it was Remus who had choked. They all roared with laughter, and Pete had gone pink with pleasure at making his mates laugh.
"I make no promises to that," Granger had said, rolling her eyes but smiling, "but we can talk then. Er, in private if you don't mind. I don't fancy whatsherface stabbing me for talking to you."
"Gudgeon?" James had said, "or are we still pretending to be mates with her?"
"No, not her," Granger had said, "the other one."
"Kensington," Remus had supplied, "the girl with the blue hair. She thinks Sirius is in the market for a punk rock girl at the moment."
"Is it blue?" Sirius had said, looking startled, "last year it was pitch black and curly."
"And the year before straight and blonde," James had nodded, "it's sad how mad you make them go, Pads-Sirius."
"No, not her," Granger had said, "the other one."
"Shelley?" Pete had said, "it must be her. The one with the huge-" he stopped himself, then coughed, remembering there was a girl nearby.
"Nice," Granger had said, "but no. How many stalkers do you have, Black?"
"Never enough," Sirius had said, he shifted around uneasily again. "Listen, maybe we should talk now. It's important. Take a seat, would you?"
"There's witnesses," James had hissed, jerking his head nearby, where Fawcett and Arnold were yawning and drinking tea. "Big mouthed witnesses."
"Can't," Granger had said, "I've got an appointment."
"With who?" Remus had said.
"Er. A book," Granger had said shiftly, "here you go, Black." Unceremoniously, she placed a wrapped package on the table in front of him. "Happy birthday."
All four Marauders stared at the package on the table, speechless. Granger walked off with a cinnamon bun in her hand while they gawked.
"Did she just give you a present?" Pete had said, voice awed.
"He's already got twenty from his female admirers," Remus had said. There was no hint of resentment in his voice. Sirius's success with girls was just a fact of life, was all. He still stared at the present just as stupidly as his mates.
"Did Hermione just give you a birthday present, Pads?" James had grinned, waggling his eyebrows. "Don't we know what that means, eh?"
"She's a nice person," Pete had tried.
"You bribed her," Remus had put in.
"She wants me," Sirius had said smugly, "The only reason to buy a bloke a birthday present, yeah? You're right, Prongs. But we already knew that, didn't we?"
He opened the package, grinning, looking back to his normal self. Out fell a book. Sirius turned it right ways up.
"Ten Ways to Get Your Ego in Check and Stop Being a Prick," Pete had read slowly. Sirius had gone red while James and Remus had roared with laughter.
"He is acting really odd," Remus said, drawing out of his reverie of the memory of that morning. They all watched Sirius against the bookshelves. Sirius straightened his tie, then caught himself straightening his tie, looking disgusted, then deliberately made it crooked again.
"You don't think it was us laughing about the book?" Pete said anxiously.
"No, that was funny," James said, "and he'll re-gift it to Regulus as a laugh. Don't worry."
"Who's he waiting for?" Pete said, "Granger? Only, she didn't talk to him after Arithmancy like she promised. Right James? That's what you said?"
"She wasn't in class at all again," James confirmed, "Professor Babbling might fail her at this rate."
"I don't think she cares," Remus said, "listen, did we ever figure out why she had that robe? That robe with the blood on it that said Potter?"
"Oh no," James groaned, "not you too. Please. I can't handle it. She's my best mate!"
"Since when?" Pete said, looking hurt.
"Best gal pal," James clarified at once, "Don't get jealous, Worms. There's more than enough of me to go around!" He winked, and Pete giggled.
"Something happened between them," Remus declared, "or, Sirius found something out about her. That's my theory. Didn't you hear him mutter at breakfast something about him accusing her wrongly?"
"Did he?" James said, "thank Merlin. Now I guess there's just one of you." He gave Remus a pointed look.
"I'm just saying," Remus said hastily, "her being Dumbeldore's goddaughter doesn't explain everything."
"Yes it does," Pete and James said together.
Remus took a deep breath. Every single instinct inside was telling him to shut up and agree with his mates. Be the happy friend once again who went along with things he knew were wrong to keep his friends and the peace.
"No, it doesn't," he said carefully, "like, the robes for instance. Or Sirius saw her in Knockturn Alley. Remember?"
"Oh, everyone's gone there as a lark," James said, "I mean, not me."
"Or me," Pete said.
"Or me," Remus said.
"Well, Sirius has," James said, "so it's okay."
"The books?" Remus forced himself on, now that he'd started it.
"Research papers,'' James said, waving a hand, "Sirius tried to figure that out for ages. And he never found another explanation."
"Dearborn?" Remus said.
"She's getting a quick snog in," James shrugged, "not that she'd practice with me to help me with Lily. Even when I offered to pay her. Did I tell you that, lads?"
"Yes," Pete and Remus said in the same tones they used when James told them the same Lily Evans anecdote for the billionth time.
"The Slytherin party," Remus soldiered on, "hanging out with Regulus."
"A quick snog to practice for Dearborn?" Pete tried. They all grimaced at that.
"With the cannibal sea fish?" James said, "No. My best gal pal has better taste than that. It's something to do with Dumbledore, I'm sure."
"The robes," Remus said, "explain the robes, James!"
James opened his mouth. He shut it. Pete opened his mouth. Shut it as well.
"There's a lot of Muggle Potters," James tried gamely, "maybe someone she-"
"A Muggle who wears a wizard's robe?" Remus persisted, "I checked it, you know, it's covered in blood like you all said. And it's not the right size for you either, James. It's taller.
"I'm very tall," James said, nettled.
"Like a string bean," Pete agreed, "remember?"
"Don't remind me," James whimpered, "should I lift weights? I've been considering it lads. I did one weight after Quidditch the other day. It was about as heavy as a Quaffle. One curl was enough, you think? I got bored."
"Definitely enough," Pete agreed.
Remus refused to be drawn into laughter and distracted.
"You'll be huge," he said, "Huge Muscles Potter, they'll call you. but you still won't fit that robe. And the cut was wrong, too. It was-"
"Just ask her, Remus," James snapped, and they all watched Sirius compulsively push back his hair, then shag it into his eyes over and over "I've got to worry about Pads, here!"
Something in Remus's stomach exploded.
"Yeah," he said at once, "sorry, Prongs. I wasn't thinking."
"You weren't," Pete said, shaking his head. "Come on, Remus. Prongs has got a lot on his mind."
"Tons," James nodded, still staring at Sirius, "look at him, for instance! He's a mess." Rose Kensington walked by Sirius and gawped. Sirius was rolling up his shirtsleeves again. They could almost see her drooling as she walked into a bookcase. Sirius didn't notice. "Well. I mean, for him."
"Oh yes," Remus said, "I agree, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"
"I don't have time to worry about you both," James said, "and Sirius has got the greater need right now, Moony."
The worms in his stomach duplicated.
"Of course," Remus hastened to agree, "I was being, er..."
"Paranoid," James supplied.
"Cranky," Pete nodded.
Annoying and boring, Remus's mind whispered, not the kind of friend they want.
"Sorry," he said again, "I didn't mean to-"
"Oh, stop apologizing," James said easily, "let's think about how to get three cakes in the next two hours, yeah?"
The worms calmed down. Remus's heart stopped pounding. He wasn't alone. He hadn't blown it.
"Already got them," he said, the overwhelming relief making him dizzy.
"Good old Remus," James grinned.
Remus grinned back. He shoved the robes to the back of his mind.
Author's Note: I know it's been a while, the writing has been coming along slowly for reasons I won't bore you with! And yeah you might've caught that James is using a Lisa Frank notebook...even though that's not possible in the seventies lol. ;)