This is Act II of my Speculum Curse story. I am including a brief summary of Act I below, although I do hope that my intelligent readers will understand that reading the actual piece will be much better.
THE SPECULUM CURSE
ACT II: PETER
The story so far: The Slytherins have cast a serious personality-altering spell, the Speculum Curse, on James. The Marauders have thus far been able to figure out how to transfer it to another victim, but not how to break it. Because of an upcoming Gryffindor-Slytherin Quiddich match, the curse has been transferred to Peter.
This time, it all began at dawn. Remus, a very light sleeper, was the first to be awakened by the grunting. When the grunting was followed by a kind of dull thump, and then more grunting and more hollow noises, James and Sirius stirred as well.
None of them spoke, at first. They were too busy staring at the floor in the center of the room. More precisely, at the rug on which Peter was doing push-ups.
"This has got to be my most vivid dream ever," Remus whispered.
"It is not a dream," Sirius countered. "It's not weird enough."
"You're only saying that because everyone has all their limbs on," Remus answered quietly, "I think it's weirder than that custard dream you had last week..."
"It was jelly, not custard!" Sirius hissed.
James, meanwhile, said nothing.
Under normal circumstances, James' silence would have been an additional source of weirdness. There were simply too many comments just waiting to be made. Give the previous day's events, however, James lack of interest in the pre-breakfast spectacle and his unwillingness to meet his friends' eyes made perfect sense. He was clearly mortified by memories of his shameful behaviour.
Sirius took this in and decided to take steps.
"Oh, hello there, little Jamiekins. How are we feeling this morning?" he began, using the kind of sing-song voice some people use around babies and the very elderly.
James was thrown into confusion, trying out all kinds of threatening glares. But not even his famed "eyes of death" had the desired effect, as Sirius continued.
"Nasty high bed making you dizzy? Nasty tough Peter making you scared? Let's send an owl to your mummy and..."
Sirius never got to finish this helpful suggestion as James, pushed beyond endurance, covered the distance between their two beds in a single leap and put his fists to work. In the resulting confusion, it was possible to see Sirius grinning broadly.
"This is great!" he enthused when he could catch his breath between blows. "James is back!"
After this brief interlude, he got into the fight siriously.
Remus smiled. He was endlessly impressed by Sirius' ability to resolve complex emotional issues through 'insult therapy.' The fight, however, was pretty generic, so he turned his attention back to Peter and his push-up technique.
It was really very interesting. Peter had the push-up part down: groaning, he could get himself at least halfway off the floor. The ease-down part (less famous, but equally important for muscle development) was another story. After each successful ascent, the aspiring athlete would simply collapse with a thump, and take a little rest. Accustomed to marking time, Remus noted that the rests were getting longer and longer...
Peter's eventual utter collapse coincided with the conclusion of the Sirius-James fight (which ended in a draw.) Stepping out of his bed, Remus surveyed all the fallen bodies.
"What's the plan now, oh fearless leader?" he addressed James.
"First, we breakfast," said James, all back to normal now, "Then, we go to the game where I will make mincemeat out of the Slytherins."
"Those creeps! They're so slimy I'm surprised they don't slide right off their brooms!" Peter yelled, rising from the floor. "Maybe you could give them a little push... Oh, how I wish I was a Beater!" he finished, punching the air.
"Do you, really?" Remus asked, "How interesting. You know, guys, I think we might want to take advantage of the confusion and try to find out a bit more about this curse."
"And miss the game? You can't!" James did not look offended; rather, he seemed overwhelmed by the depth of his friend's capacity for self-sacrifice. "Now that the Quiddich is safe, I say we take Peter to see Madam Pomfrey and let her handle it all."
"We might get into trouble for not having done so before... And for having worked serious curse-transfer magic all on our own..." Remus shrugged. He was not used to being quite this much of a prig, it was normally Peter's job, but Peter was clearly not up to it at the moment. Judging by his outraged expression, that is.
"I can't believe you two," Peter presently sputtered. "You're forgetting the most important thing..."
"...the Slytherins, and the satisfaction the will feel when we admit we have been defeated by their curse!" Sirius finished for him.
"Right!" Peter exclaimed, leaping up. The two exchanged high-fives.
Thus, the decision not to inform any adults was reached democratically. As was the decision not to go to the library, since Peter was "obviously perfectly fine" according to everyone other than Remus. The decision to go and eat was unanimous.
Breakfast was a real pleasure. Still hungry from the previous day's deprivations, they could finally stuff their faces with all types of greasy, sticky food. Moreover, the Slytherins' snickering was now rather amusing. James felt particularly smug.
"Maybe I should stand on this chair," he suggested. "Prove I have a head for heights, give them something to think about..."
"No! Don't!" Peter was quite emphatic about it. "I plan to make several bets on today's game, so please play it cool. You're in, as well, Sirius, right?"
"Oh yes. Great idea, Peter," Sirius nodded appreciatively. "James, do you think you could look a bit sicker? Maybe twitch with fear occasionally? It would improve the odds."
"I refuse to be dishonest, even before the Slytherins," James announced haughtily.
"Taking our founder's name in vain, are you, Potter?" Severus Snape and Don Rosier had, once again, decided to come over and gloat. "Glad to hear it! It's good practice for later, when you'll call it as you plead for our mercy," Snape smirked, leaning on the table right in James' face.
All along the Gryffindor table, conversation dwindled as students turned to watch. These little altercations usually made for fine breakfast theatre.
"'Our mercy', Severus?" Remus asked in wide-eyed innocence. "Are you on the team these days?"
"No, Remus," Sirius explained helpfully, "Not even the Slytherins can be that desperate! You must remember that chickens have been known to outfly poor Snape."
"I just know you had enchanted that chicken, Black," Snape hissed. "But I also know that there'll be only one chicken on the field tonight: James Potter."
Peter had been stewing silently by James' side, but this insult proved too much for him to take.
"That's it, Snape," he stated abruptly. "I've had enough. I am now going to kick your ass." He started rolling up his sleeves. His friends looked on with wonder, prepared to step in if necessary.
"Wouldn't you rather kick my butt?" Snape asked helpfully. Obviously, the threat didn't strike him as all that serious.
"Pick one," Peter attempted a squeaky growl, a strange gleam in his eye.
Snape laughed.
At that moment, several things happened in a blur. Giving his friends no time to react, Peter disappeared, diving under the tablecloth. Remus did manage to grab one of his feet, but not before Snape had emitted a shrill yell. Doing his best to look threatening, not an easy effect to achieve while hopping up and down on one foot, Snape pulled out his wand and stepped forward...
Only to be stopped by a hand clamping down on his shoulder.
"What's going on here, Snape, Rosier?" Professor McGonagall demanded to know. "Aren't you a bit far from your seats?" Full of suspicion, she glanced at the Marauders, just in time to see Peter emerging from under the table. "What... Oh, I see," she announced, fixing Snape firmly with outraged eyes. "You should be ashamed of yourself, frightening Pettigrew into hiding!"
"But, P-professor!" Snape stammered, "Pettigrew attacked me!"
Peter, who was looking rather ruffled, seemed to be struggling to speak, perhaps even to confirm Snape's words. Strangely, he seemed unable to.
"A likely story," said the Professor truthfully. "Ten points for Slytherin! And if I catch you bullying Pettigrew, or anyone else again, it'll go far worse for you. Now, off you go," she finished, directing the Slytherins towards their table, where Professor Asquith awaited, twirling his moustache.
It took only a few moments for the buzz round the Gryffindor table to resume. The incident had not seemed all that unusual to the uninformed bystander. Peter's friends, however, knew better, and gave him some rather thoughtful looks. It soon became obvious that their choking on something. Choosing violence over magic, Sirius slapped him hard on the back.
"Harph!" Peter spat out something that looked like a chewed piece of leather. "What tasteless boots that Snape wears! Doesn't exactly taste like candy himself, either," he commented.
"You know, Peter," Remus was the first to reply, "Ferociously courageous as your action was, I don't think it has helped your bet any. It really looks as if the Slytherins now suspect something."
Everyone looked over at the exit, where a largish group of older Slytherins was disappearing, lost in heated discussion.
"That reminds me," Peter announced, getting up. "I must hurry to the Quiddich field. I have to see some people about some bets,"
"Don't you think you'd better go and do some research on the curse now?" James whispered to Remus.
"Yes," Remus whispered back, "But I don't think we can let Peter out alone..."
"I'll be only too happy to be his minder," Sirius murmured. Full of enthusiasm, he set off after his friend.
Peter was not fazed at all by any of this whispering, which was perhaps the strangest thing of all. He strode forth from the hall proudly like a latter-day Napoleon, hardly deigning to notice as Sirius caught up with him.
"Good luck, Sirius!" Remus shouted after them. "Something tells me he'll need it," he muttered to James as they walked out behind the two underage bookies.
But James was not really listening. "Um, Remus," he started, "Do you think Sirius will stop teasing me about, well, yesterday, if I sit him down and ask him not to?"
Remus grinned. "You mean, if you sit him down and tell him it really bothers you? No."
"That's what I thought," James sighed.
"Don't worry," Remus comforted him, "Soon, you'll do something even more embarrassing and then he'll move onto that."
As a result of the incidents outlined above, James, the Gryffindor captain, got to the changing room a bit late. Disliking favouritism, he made a point of telling himself off in front of the rest of the team. His newly-learnt humility helped him a little, there. Afterwards, he gave the usual pep-talk as he changed into his scarlet robes.
"OK, team, listen to me. We're about to play the Slytherins," he began. "Now, we know we're faster..."
"Aye-aye, Captain!" the team replied as one.
"We know we're smarter..."
"Aye-aye, Captain!"
"We know we're just plain better!"
"Aye-aye, Captain!"
"So let's play that way, and not let our pity for those sad Slytherins and their disappointed, weeping parents cloud our eyes or our judgement!"
"AYE-AYE, CAPTAIN!" Everyone yelled loudly, particularly Chaser Livia Loki, who had familial reasons to enjoy the cheer she'd helped write.
Sirius and Peter, meanwhile, had set up their betting operation at the side of the stands, out of the sight of the teachers. It was quite popular, in part because Peter insisted on accepting any number of frivolous and irrelevant bets.
"Peter, calm down," Sirius eventually had to advise him. "We're here to make money off James' athletic ability and our own intelligence, not to count how many times Toedlicher-Schnapps cleans her monocle before the first foul. You should never bet without insider information, anyway."
"Oh, don't worry so much, Sirius," Peter replied airily. "Where's your sense of fun?"
"Want to take part in my big bet?" Livia was just walking out onto the field, carrying her fine-tuned broom.
"No," Sirius stated emphatically, stepping on Peter's foot. "Why would anyone in their right mind bet you that you won't be able to date at least one guy from each house this year?" He sent her a dazzling lady-killer smile. "It doesn't seem like much of a challenge. Not for you, I mean."
Peter kept silent, although he was clearly disgusted by his friend's unmanly behaviour.
"You'd be surprised how much of a challenge it becomes if you tell everybody," Livia shrugged, dismissing the flirtation. "I mean, even you little fifth years seem to know all about it. Well, see me if you change your minds," she tossed out over her shoulder, flying off to take her position.
Now that the game was clearly about to start, the two underage bookies started to gather their money and records. Suddenly, something in the nearby stands suddenly caught Peter's attention.
"I see Snape's nose!" he exclaimed. "Hold on, Sirius, I have some unfinished business to attend to." Throwing his shoulders back, he disappeared into the crowd.
With an unaccustomed sense of impeding doom, Sirius hurried behind him. A small man can, however, move through a crowd much faster, especially if he has a good line in knees and elbows, and so he found Peter only after a delay, and then only by navigating towards the beanpole that was Snape.
"Go away, Pettigrew!" Snape was saying to a red-faced Peter, as Sirius slipped into the circle of onlookers gathering around them.
"Too scared to fight, Slimeverus?" Peter yelled shrilly in reply. "Running away? Stand your ground, damn you, and prove if you're a man or a mouse!"
"Man or mouse?" Snape raised a sarcastic eyebrow. "Look who's talking, pipsqueak!" he quipped, turning to go.
This mortal insult enraged Peter further. He let out a high-pitched shriek and flung himself towards his enemy.
The element of surprise was very much on his side there. Snape, who had carelessly refused to believe Peter capable of more than foot-biting, was totally unprepared for the snarling ball of rage which hit him in mid-thigh. He clutched at the air impotently, and the two boys collapsed in a heap.
An excited murmur ran through the crowd of onlookers: the real fun was about to start. Sirius quickly considered the possibility of taking bets...
Unfortunately (or, perhaps, fortunately) the event was over almost as soon as it had began. The crowd to one side parted somewhat hastily, revealing a figure with flashing glasses and piled-up black hair.
"Snape!" Professor McGonagall yelled angrily. "What did I tell you? Unhand Pettigrew at once!"
Summing up the situation, Sirius leapt forward quickly to pull Peter off. Snape was helped to his feet by two of his fellow Slytherins, one of whom, a girl, he quickly shook off.
"But, Professor," the girl spoke in posh, nasal tones, "It was Pettigrew who..."
"I suppose you want to tell me that it was Pettigrew who flung himself at Snape?" the Professor scoffed.
The onlookers whispered amongst themselves. As they contained no further Slytherins, however, none chose to speak up in support of the story. Thus, Professor McGonagall was able to continue in full certainty.
"Honestly, Lepervanche. I expected more from you. Twenty points from your House, and I will see you, Snape, in my office tomorrow at nine. And," she continued in ever more menacing tones, "if by some chance you decide to take this out on Pettigrew your detention will grow much, much longer. Understood?"
Looking at her defiantly, Snape emitted some sort of grunt. It was impossible to hear more, however, as at that moment the stadium erupted into loud booing. Everyone turned to look.
Sirius was outraged to see that James was attempting to steady his broom while rubbing at his shoulder. The crowd's yells soon informed him that it was all a result of some sneaky foul perpetrated by Rumble, the Slytherin team captain.
"Send him off!" he yelled, noticing with dismay that the score was already thirty to ten. Irritated at having missed so much, he grabbed a mutinous Peter by the collar and dragged him off to a safe spot among the Gryffindor first-years.
Remus, sitting in the library over a weighty tome, heard the roar and smiled to himself. A reminder of the world outside, it encouraged him to go and join the others now that he'd found what he had been looking for. He'd been lost in thought, rather enjoying the moment: the mild sense of accomplishment, the silence, the motes of dust glittering in a ray of light. He liked the musty library, which held the legacies of so many civilizations. He liked feeling that, in so many ways, he belonged there. His friends might scoff and accuse him of being a lone wolf when he went off on one of his solo journeys of discovery, but in fact he never felt quite so much like a human.
The roar ended, and Remus shook his head, shaking off his reverie as if it were water on a wet dog. He knew that it had not been a victory roar - that would have gone on longer - but it had certainly been a preview of the grand roar to come. And James would never understand if he somehow missed that. Remus got to his feet, picking up the cloak.
James, meanwhile, soared up and down on his Tornado.Weaving in and out of the trio of Slytherins assigned to the task of marking him (and generally making his life a misery), he laughed out loud. He was so happy to be happy again, after the previous day's trials, that not even the fly he had accidentally swallowed could dispell his positive mood. Below, far, far below, he could see cheering clouds, and even the small figure of Remus making its way across the field. And... yes... something golden glittering in the sunlight! Red-gold hair, in fact. Inspired, he did a rather impressive double loop.
It was when he was upside down in his second loop that he finally saw it. The snitch was actually up above him! He had the weirdest feeling that it was envious of his fantastic maneuvers. Presently, it started to descend in a complicated corkscrew motion.
There was no time to lose! James matched the path of the snitch, turning his broom so abruptly that the Slytherin Seeker sighed with jealousy. His guardians were left far behind: it was truly a perfect moment, as he slowly gained on his quarry, anticipating almost every one of its evasive maneuvers. The crowd grew completely still as he reached out towards the golden ball... and felt its beating wings still against his hand as he closed his fingers.
The resulting roar was loud and absolutely incomprehensible. Thus, it was impossible to tell was screaming out their joy at the Gryffindor triumph and the Slytherins' shame using a few well-picked rude phrases, and who was rejoicing in a more genteel fashion. (Although it must be supposed that Sirius certainly belonged to the former group, and Minerva McGonagall - to the latter.) Sirius' shouts were all the more enthusiastic since he knew that out there, lost in the noise somewhere, were the despairing yells of the Slytherins. And, even more importantly, of most of those who had chosen to bet against him.
Filled with the joy of sudden riches, Sirius decided to congratulate his partner. He turned towards Peter... but Peter was, alas, gone once again.
This was starting to get rather annoying.
Sirius growled. He looked around quickly, realizing that it would be very hard indeed to spot his short friend in the sea of jumping first-years. Thinking fast, he decided that Peter must have rushed forth to embrace James on the field and so share in the victory. It was not his custom, but all evidence suggested that custom had been chucked aside together with Peter's fussiness and shyness. Moreover, the alternative, that Peter was still a Snape-seeking weapon, did not bear thinking about. So, Sirius broke a school rule by leaping off the side of the stand with no regard for his limbs whatsoever, and made for the field.
He was soon gratified to see that he'd been right. Pushing past several screaming girls, he saw that Peter was, in fact, congratulating the Gryffindor team. Indeed, James had only just managed to escape his lengthy embrace, and was turning in relief towards someone Sirius immediately classified as "a non-Gryffindor girl, red hair." Sirius also noticed that James' cheeks were pink, and his manner sheepish: had Peter said or done something inappropriate again?
Dismissing the thought, Sirius turned his energies towards Peter's re-capture. He moved towards his friend, who was, at that moment, attempting to hug Livia.
The embrace he achieved was exactly what one would expect from a short boy hugging a tall, well-built girl. Livia raised an eyebrow and looked directly down a t what was still visible of Peter's head. After a moment's thought, she decided he honour was at stake. Drawing back with a shocked expression, she slapped the offender so hard he spun around and sat down on the grass.
Suppressing a snigger, Sirius covered the remaining distance and offered a hand. Peter took it, pulling himself up.
"Huh! As if I could be bothered with girls!" He muttered with an angry look at Livia. "It should be obvious that I'm more of a fighter than a lover..."
In reply, Sirius nodded sagely. He himself was currently involved in a fight, the fight to keep a straight face. Hearing a snort of laughter, he clapped his hand over his mouth just in case it had been his.
As the laughter continued, it soon became apparent that it hadn't. The Gryffindors turned towards its source.
It was Snape, walking down with the Slytherin team. And he was looking straight at Peter.
Once again, Sirius was too slow in his reactions. Before he could so much as blink, Peter was out of the range of his arms and moving deliberately ever closer to the man who'd dared to laugh.
"Do you want a piece of me, Snape?" he was asking. "Huh? Do you want a piece of me?"
Looking around briefly, and seeing no professors, Snape decided that it was time to break Peter's winning streak.
"I don't want one," he said haughtily. "Although there will certainly be more than enough pieces of you to go round by the time I'm done with you. Fatty." He pulled out his wand.
"You want a magic duel, then?" Peter sneered, stopping a few feet from Snape. "Afraid to face me like a man, are you?"
Snape shrugged. "Well, if that's how you wish to die..." he muttered, handing his wand to D'Uberville. Without a further word, he swung at Peter.
Sirius decided that the situation was not looking good. Peter had certainly lost the element of surprise, and he was, after all, so much smaller... It was a pity that honour prevented him from aiding his short friend. He had to be satisfied with glaring at the other Slytherins.
James and the recently-arrived Remus stepped up beside him. Sirius was surprised to note that their faces held wonder rather than worry. He turned back to the fight...
It was true that Peter was smaller, and less experienced in hand-to-hand combat, but both those factors were conspiring to make his fighting technique incomprehensible to Snape. For starters, Peter worked only below the belt, paying special attention to knees and shins. He also seemed entirely impervious to pain, going so far as to laugh whenever he received some particularly powerful blow. Snape's only chance seemed to be to push him away and take advantage of his own wider reach. He grabbed at Peter's head, and soon the two were suck in a deadlock.
The mixed crowd gathering around them was shouting out all kinds of encouragement.
"Bite his kneecaps off, Peter!" James shouted.
"No, no, headbutt him in the privates!" Sirius disagreed.
Remus refrained from comment. He felt an urge to shout "Go for the throat!" but it seemed a bit inappropriate. Involved in this personal struggle, he was the first one to look up and see a familiar sight.
"SNAPE!" Professor McGonagall was beside herself with rage. "Stop this at once! I've never... Immediate detention! Loss of Hogsmeade privileges!" she sputtered. "Stop strangling Pettigrew at once!" she added, clearly unaware that Snape was trying to extricate himself as fast as possible, a grim expression on his face.
"Professor, it really was Pettigrew who attacked," Rosier addressed her.
"Well, you saw how Snape was insulting him!" Sirius countered, 'accidentally' elbowing Snape as he struggled to get Peter off him.
"He did call him fatty," was Remus's contribution, huffed out as he dragged a scowling Peter away by the scruff of his neck.
"I find it very hard to believe that Peter would attack without extreme provocation," the Professor shook her head, regaining her composure.
"But, Professor McGonagall, Pettigrew has been acting very odd lately..." Captain Rumble began.
"Really? What makes you say that?" Remus asked innocently, running a hand through his ruffled hair.
"Nothing," Rosier said emphatically, as several other Slytherins attempted to will Rumble into silence with glances and secret physical attacks. "Ralph is just distracted by the game, that's all..."
McGonagall shrugged. Grabbing Snape by the arm, she turned towards James. "I must congratulate you, Potter. And the entire team, for a game well played. You'd better get back to the common room now," she announced, before disappearing back into the crowd.
Understanding this to be an admonition against taking revenge, the Gryffindors started walking back.
"I think there'll be a party now, but I do suggest a debriefing in our room first," James said to the other Marauders.
Remus and Sirius nodded vigorously. Peter didn't. He was still muttering various threats under his breath.
Fortunately, he had plenty of time to cool off before the scheduled meeting. While James was still changing with his team, and Sirius was off 'shopping' for party supplies, he spent some quality time sitting round the tower room with Remus.
"I think I may have found the solution to your problem, Peter," Remus announced reassuringly.
"Do you really think it's so much of a problem?" Peter asked.
"Let me put it this way: YES. You're out of control, a threat to yourself and others."
"Perhaps I could get better control," Peter suggested. "I mean, don't you feel like kicking people's butts all the time?"
"Not really..." Remus shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "It depends on the... time of month, of course, but it usually takes some pretty serious provocation. Physical provocation, I mean: people growling and posturing, or preparing to attack. Empty words don't usually do it," he confided. "Besides, I think we can all agree that what I have is a problem."
"I suppose so..." Peter agreed grudgingly. "I'd gladly exchange it for my usual problems, though."
"No, you wouldn't." Remus was quite emphatic, "Not if you really thought it out. What problems are you referring to, precisely?"
"Well... you know..." Peter was having a hard time putting it into words. "The fact that I'm such a despicable little wimp!"
"Do you realize that, when you say stuff like that, you actually insult us?" Remus wondered aloud. "I think Sirius would feel seriously annoyed. I mean, we all like you, so what does that say about our taste?"
"Fair enough. But don't you think I'm aware of being the odd one out half the time?" Peter countered with slight belligerence.
"There's four of us, Peter. That's an even number," Remus smiled. "Anyway, can you honestly say," he continued quickly, before Peter could take offense, "that the three of you never leave me out of anything?"
"No, but you're ill..."
"And don't you remember all those times when nobody was even speaking to Sirius anymore? Like the time he thought it'd be funny to eat all our homework?"
"No, but Sirius..."
"Honestly, Peter, I think everyone feels a bit like that at times. Except maybe for James, but James is... James," Remus concluded.
At this point, James and Sirius reappeared, laden with sacks of food and drink.
"Well, Remus, what did you find out?" James asked briskly, setting his load down in a corner.
"It really is pretty simple," Remus replied. "To break the curse, all we have to do is find and break the mirror they used to cast it."
"Simple?" James frowned. "The Slytherins may be dumber than us, but I would assume they've hidden the mirror away."
"They must be hiding it from the teachers, certainly," Remus allowed, "But they can't be keeping it in a sock drawer or anything. It has to be surrounded by candles at all times."
"In that case," Sirius announced, helping himself to a cake, "I hope they've put it in a chest full of very, very dry, and very, very important, scrolls."
"Those cakes are for the party," James slapped Sirius' arm.
"Oh, please don't start, you two," Remus asked. "There's been enough violence done today."
"I disagree," Peter contributed. "I say we take the Slytherin common-room by storm, beat the knowledge of the hiding place out of Snape, and grab the mirror."
"A brilliant plan," Sirius announced, "except that we don't know where their common room is."
"And we're expected at the party," James remembered.
"And I am starting to feel sorry for Snape," Remus sighed.
"Hey, maybe he'll break the mirror himself, after what happened today!" James said optimistically.
"Do you really think so?" Peter asked anxiously. "I think I'm going to go look for it right now!" He jumped off his bed.
"I doubt he will, worse luck." Remus replied. "I think that at this point he'd quite like to see you get into trouble, and even McGonagall is bound to get suspicious if you keep attacking people."
"You could try to distract her with your charms..." Sirius suggested.
Remus groaned. "How many times do I have to tell you, I am not..."
"Don't get distracted, guys," James jumped in, impatiently. "Let's decide what to do. I suggest that we go downstairs right now, and look for the mirror tomorrow."
"And hide it in our room to keep it safe," Peter concluded.
"You know, Peter," Sirius walked over and looked his friend right in the eye. "I think you should understand that we like you much less like this. Sorry."
"But surely you respect me more?"
"No!" Sirius announced. "Today was deeply disturbing. I never thought I'd end up thinking of myself as the level-headed one."
"If it helps," Remus told him, "I still don't think of you as..."
"Stay on target, guys, stay on target," James muttered. "I think we're all agreed that the curse must be broken..."
Peter said nothing. Instead, he made a quick dash for the door.
This time, Sirius was ready for once. Whipping out his wand, he shouted "Sopire!" and Peter fell to the floor, snoring.
Remus, too, was quick off the mark. "Seeing as we can't break it right now, I think we should transfer the curse to someone else. I suggest myself: I've had some practice dealing with curses."
"Yeah, like the curse of living with Sirius," James replied.
"'Stay on target', James," Sirius grunted out while dragging Peter to his bed.
"I think it's a good plan, Remus," James decided. "Let's go to the party first, though..."
And so they did.
How will the Speculum Curse affect Remus? Will the Marauders find the mirror? Find out in the next chapter...
To the reviewers of SC Act I: thanks for letting me know what you find humorous... I find it very interesting that several people pointed out stuff I only put in to amuse myself as I write. And I do hope that people will find this installment equally amusing, even if it is comparatively short on banter. Either way, reviews are very much appreciated...
The Usual Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K.Rowling. I have no plans to make any money off this story.