Harry Potter and The Scholar of Mystery

by Matt of Ravenclaw

A re-make of Goblet of Fire, Harry and Hermione meet a mysterious Ravenclaw seemingly forgotten from history. Together, the three will face a threat that could destroy all of reality!

11. Marauders: Past and Future

Hello my readers! Welcome back to Harry Potter and The Scholar of Mystery, the eleventh installment of it at that! Let me reassure everyone that this chapter will be quite a bit more good-natured than the last three. No blood, no violent outbursts of anger that could level a small town, and only a slight smattering of teenage angst. However, I can't promise that this chapter won't be as long as the last ones have been. I've discovered that I now have little, if any, real control over my story. I'm just along for the ride now, much like all of you. But, why should I worry about a boring introduction when I can just move on to a boring disclaimer.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, or any of the other denizens of the Harry Potter universe that will make their presence felt in this chapter. I've got an original character thrown in, but nobody cares about who owns him (and I don't blame them).

Chapter 11- Marauders: Past and Future

Remus Lupin gently place his daily newspaper on his kitchen table when he heard the sound of his daily breakfast, two slices of toasted wheat bread, pop out of his toasters. Whenever any of his neighbors, all of them witches or wizards, would visit his home they would point at the heating device and tell him to get rid of it, saying that it was nothing more than a worthless piece of Muggle machinery. Such "artifacts" had no place in the home of a kindly and intelligent man such as himself and they just didn't belong in the "advanced" society that magicians spent their daily lives.

'Then again,' Lupin mused as he placed the two slices of bread flat on a plate, 'they would also say that there was no place for a werewolf in the wizarding world, either. So what did they know?'

Remus Nathaniel Lupin was a lycanthrope, a full-blooded werewolf in layman's terms. Shortly after his sixth birthday, he and his older brother had wandered out to a shady grove several hundred yards away from the humble Lupin home. Such an act of juvenile behavior would have certainly been severely chastised by their mother and father if they were caught. However, the consequences of this trip were far beyond a simple scolding for young Remus. A werewolf, desperate for nourishment, attacked the young boy, ruthlessly biting him several times in the neck and chest. By the time his older brother had frantically carried him back to their house, Remus was near death. Quite ironic that the only thing that saved his life was the blood of the angry creature that attacked him now flowing through his veins.

The first transformation occurred two weeks later, a shocking experience to say the least both for himself and his family. His horrified brother quickly ran to his parents to warn them of a wolf cub that had somehow snuck into the house. Although there was a bit of confusion over the matter at the first transformation, Remus' mother and father were quite capable of seeing the connection during the second transformation the next night.

Remus had a terrible time adjusting to the strains that such a complex act of human transfiguration could occur but now, particularly in his adolescent years. Now, after 26 years of experience, he could weather it. For the next four years, Remus was an outcast; locked away by his parents for fear that he would harm others. It was hardly the decision that Remus thought he would have made if he were in their shoes, but the passing of time gave him some clarity on the entire situation and he loved them all the same. The once robust boy became a pale, sickly young man in those four years. Remus would read every book about lycanthropy he would find, forming a craving for knowledge that would soon extend into a love for the Dark Arts and Transfiguration techniques.

His admission letter to Hogwarts had arrived several days after his big brother came home from his second year. His mother and father were thrilled that Remus was accepted into one of the highest learning institutions in Europe, particularly considering their son's condition. However, Headmaster Dumbledore assured them that he would make certain that Remus' dreadful secret would remain unknown.

And thus, one cheerful summer day, his parents flew him to Platform 9 ¾ where he would experience one of the most wonderful moments of his life. For you see, Remus Lupin met his first three friends on that train ride to Hogwarts. First there was James Potter, a wild-haired young man whose carefree attitude seemed to both frighten and intrigue the young man. Then there was Peter Pettigrew, James' childhood friend, who invited him to their booth when he saw that Remus had nowhere to sit. Remus had never been offered many things by anyone, thus he was quite taken aback by this rare occurrence. The present-day Remus chuckled to himself as he remembered how Peter goaded him into the seat by offering him half of his bag of Bernie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans. This caused a rather playful argument between James and Peter that finally convinced him to sit with the two rambunctious youngsters. ("Come on, Peter! Don't give him all the good ones!" "I don't want to give him all the good ones, I plan on saving myself some too! You're getting the bad ones!") The three of them were soon joined by another young man, who stumbled into their compartment red- faced with laughter. A brief interrogation revealed that the boy had just placed a Dungbomb into the suitcase of a slick-haired boy named Severus Snape. He was clearly still enjoying his results of his first prank as a student at Hogwarts as he sat down beside Remus. The young man's name was Sirius Black, a problem child if there ever was one, as he often liked to call himself.

Remus would make many other friends during his seven years at Hogwarts, but his life at Hogwarts would always revolve around the three people he met that day. Remus, Peter, Sirius, and James. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.

The Marauders.

They said they'd be friends forever on their graduation day.

Remus still wasn't quite sure what happened to that promise as he polished off the second slice of toast and brought the dirty plate to the sink. Sirius was a wanted felon, accused and convicted of a crime he didn't commit and forced into hiding. James and his wife, Lily, were killed protecting their child. And, Peter. . .

Peter was the enemy.

Remus continued to keep in contact with Professor Dumbledore, thus he knew of Macnair's attack on James's son and his friends on New Year's Eve in Snape's dungeon. Dumbledore never directly stated that it was Peter who had saved the children's lives, but it wasn't hard to read between the lines. He felt a pang of pity for Harry, Hermione, and Matt every time he picked up the lengthy parchment and read through it. Although Remus didn't get to know the Ravenclaw as well as Harry and Hermione during his short stint as a Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, he did have a few fond memories of the young man. He was uncommonly bright, although he often refused to admit to it, preferring instead to show off his talents with various pranks and displays of juvenile behavior that left him hard-pressed not to laugh out loud at the boy. The time he dressed up a kappa in a pink dress with a colorful floral pattern was quite original, and Matt's adventure against the boggart was something that he wouldn't forget for quite a long time. When Snape informed the public of Lupin's "other half," Matt "protested his dismissal" by placing an enchantment on Snape's potion books causing them to scream every time the potions master was within five feet of them.

'No wonder Sirius has taken such a shine to him,' Remus thought as he shook his head at the memory.

However, despite his interest in keeping tabs on Harry and his friends, he also felt that the struggles of Hogwarts were not something he was a part of anymore. He certainly didn't want Harry and his friends to be placed in danger, but he also realized that they were more than capable of taking care of themselves. After all, any witch or wizard that was capable of standing up to a monster like Macnair for any length of time was something to be respected and, quite frankly, a bit feared. Also, there were surely enough competent witches and wizards at Hogwarts to take care of Harry: his old friend Sirius, Dumbledore, McGonagall, hell, even Snape. Remus Lupin had his own lot in life and that lot wasn't at Hogwarts.

So, instead of worrying about matters concerning the perils of the world, Remus Lupin now devoted his life in tackling the equally daunting challenge of being a thirty-seven year old bachelor with dwindling funds, an uncommonly high water bill, and a severe case of lycanthropy. He had managed to buy a modest home in the countryside sixty kilometers west of Hogsmeade with the money he had saved working as a professor at Hogwarts. His food and other bills were covered by the royalty checks he received from the books he had written shortly after leaving Hogwarts. Peter and Sirius had annoyed him into writing about werewolves and how they are viewed in society, Remus being quite an expert in the subject after all. Although he was a little loathe to do so for obvious reasons, Remus would spend the next several years writing and was rewarded handsomely in the process. Lupin thanked his lucky stars that the publishing company he signed on with didn't hold his own lycanthropy against him. He didn't know what he'd do without the money he earned from his books. After all, not many witches or wizards consider being a werewolf as a shining job qualification.

But, all things considered, Remus Lupin thought he had a good life. Nothing too drastic, nothing too slow, just the everyday struggles of a normal wizard. He had learned, with quite a deal of effort, to make the complex Wolfsbane potion on his own last summer so he no longer had to rely on Snape to pacify his nights under the full moon, and there were no debts to his name. Yes, Remus was quite content with his life as it was going.

Of course, Remus Lupin was fully aware of the fact that whenever things start to go smoothly, the other shoe is bound to drop.

It wasn't a shoe for Remus, however, it was a scratching sound on the welcome mat outside his door. At first, he chalked it up to a trick of his ears and marched back to the kitchen sink to place his plate in the dishwasher. However, even he couldn't deny the sound of loud barking emanating from his doorstep. Lowering his shoulders and sighing deeply, Remus walked to the door laborious, much as he did when he was sent to McGonagall's office as a child. A particularly loud bark seemed to punch Lupin right in the face as he released the bolt on the front door and swung it open.

And there, waiting quite impatiently on his newly bought welcome mat, was a shaggy, black dog. A dog that Remus often thought that he knew far too well.

'This cannot be good,' Remus thought as he opened the door wide, allowing Snuffles to walk inside.

There seemed to be a thick air of melancholy around the small section of the Gryffindor dining tables where Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Matt McGonagall, and Ron Weasley usually took their meals. There were quite a few possible causes for this behavior. It could have been because the four of them had recently witnessed the horrible death of a respected Ministry official. It could have been the alarming, though unwilling, display of Hermione's hidden powers several hundred yards into the Forbidden Forest. It could have been the pressure that would have naturally occurred among students when the term was coming to a close and final examinations were looming over them. However, as is often the case, the problem lay in an ugly combination of the three, which caused for a fourth problem to enter the picture.

"I hate to admit it," Matt said as he lazily brought the edge of his knife down into the center of his buttered toast, "but I miss Ron." Harry and Hermione both murmured an agreement.

Indeed, Ronald Weasley was nowhere to be found in the Great Hall. Given Ron's prodigious appetite the trumped-up mess hall was probably the first place anyone would have ever bothered to look for him. Neither Ron or Ginny had spoken to any of them since Crouch's death. Ginny hadn't shown up at Hagrid's hut once in the past week except for classes, much to Hagrid and Matt's dismay. She instead chose to spend her time with Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, and some of her fellow third-year students, sticking out like a sore thumb amidst the usual gab sessions. Harry and Hermione tried their hardest to get Ron to speak to him, but he continued to shy away from them with every effort, his excuses becoming more and more porous with each occasion. If he did show up for meals, he would sit on the other end of the Gryffindor table with Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas.

"I just can't understand why he won't talk to us!" Hermione shouted as she banged her fist on the table. "It's not like we did any of this on our own volition!"

"You'd be scared too if you saw your friend nearly set the entire Forbidden Forest on fire," said Harry soberly. "Dumbledore is right, let's just give Ron some time." Despite the sureness in his voice, Harry didn't like the idea anymore than Hermione did. He missed Ron as a friend, the very first friend he met on the Hogwarts Express. Sure, Hermione and Matt were taking up a lot more time in his life nowadays, but he still considered Ron his dearest friend, someone who didn't have, as Snape had told them shortly after the pensieve incident, the wings of destiny on their backs.

"Have you guys talked with Fred and George about it?" Matt asked glumly.

"Ron's been avoiding them too," Harry answered. "They even cast a spell on his bed that turned it into a giant whoopee cushion a couple days ago to try and liven him up. He didn't even bat an eye."

"If you're going to ask somebody about Ron Weasley, then why don't you just ask him??"

All three of them jumped a bit at Ron, who was holding his breakfast tray in his hands, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Ron. . ." Matt said hesitatingly, a rarity in the Ravenclaw's case. "Do you want to sit down?" The hot-tempered Weasley didn't budge an inch.

"Just answer me this," Ron said, his eyes looking very fatigued, as if he hadn't slept in days. "Hermione, did you, you know, do that, stuff. . ."

"I have no idea how I did it," Hermione said, making sure to look her friend straight in the eyes. She didn't want to lose one of her dearest friends because of anything else she did. "I couldn't do it again even if I tried."

"All right," Ron said stiffly, trying to force back a lump in his throat. "Do all three of you. . can all of you do this stuff?"

"From what we've read from Vol, er, You-Know-Who's and Ravenclaw's prophecies, it certainly looks like it." Matt said, not using Riddle's nom de surre, which frightened Ron as well as much of the rest of the wizarding world. "Seems like I'm the late bloomer, though."

Ron's eyes widened as he deciphered the precise meaning in Matt's statement. "You mean, Harry. . ."

"It was during the second task," Harry said flatly. "I cast some kind of electrical field around my body when I was fighting the grindylows. If I hadn't done it, I wouldn't have survived."

"Oh," Ron said, nodding his head up and down while trying to conjure up Harry's struggle with the grindylows in his brain. He blew out a breath before speaking again. "Well, I suppose that such things come in handy every now and then."

"It has its moments," Harry said.

"We're sorry for not telling you everything, Ron," Matt said. "We thought that if we told you all about this then. . ."

"Then what?" Ron said, a tinge of red in his face. "That I wouldn't be your friend anymore? That I would think that you guys were some kind of freaks?"

"Well. . ." Harry muttered, his eyes focused on his breakfast plate.

"Don't get me wrong," Ron continued on as he placed his tray of food on his regular seat. "I'm not about to deny that all this stuff doesn't scare me half to death! I mean, it seems one minute we're having fun pulling pranks and studying in the library and the next minute you guys are like superheroes!"

"We're not superheroes," Hermione said flatly.

"You know what I mean," Ron cut her off. "I'm supposed to be your friend. We're supposed to share our struggles, face our challenges together and all that other rubbish, and I'm not even sure if I can do that anymore! I know I probably won't be able to be with you guys when you fight You-Know. . ." Ron's cheeks paled a bit, "Voldemort and I probably never will! I knew that the first day you guys went on that awful training that you guys do."

"But. . ." Ron said with downcast eyes, "I'm your friend, and I want to help."

Harry said nothing to his best friend, he just continued to stare at him as a sour grin arose from Ron's face. Hermione was chewing on her bottom lip, trying to hold back her vulnerable crying reflexes.

"You're not about to go off and say, 'I love you guys,' or something, are you?" Matt asked with a wry grin. Ron looked back at his Ravenclaw, perplexed by his dry tone. As usual, it only took him moments for the beat to set in.

"Nah," Ron said, shrugging his shoulders. "That stuff's for those greeting cards that Muggles by all the time."

"Then sit your ass down and eat," Matt said, as he hefted Ron's food tray onto the table and slapped the seat. "I'm not about to have you bummin' off my snack supply by the time lunch rolls around."

Ron's smile couldn't have been brighter as he shook his head and took his usual seat next to Matt, already beginning to tuck into his hash- browned potatoes. Matt wrapped his right arm around Ron and scuffled his hair with the left, much like Fred or George would do. Hermione just shook her head while Harry laughed at the two of them.

"So," Ron said, taking a big gulp from his goblet of milk, "where did you guys go after the whole Crouch thing?"

"We had to spend the night in Snape's chambers," Harry replied. Ron's face stretched out into a horrified expression, looking as if he had just been told to share the same bed with a black widow spider.

"Good God! Now I actually do feel sorry for you!"

Meanwhile, Virginia Weasley was staring at the lively conversation between her brother and his friends with a doleful look on her face. The auburn-haired young woman slowly went through her scrambled eggs as she tried to tune out the conversation that Parvati Patil and Lavendar Brown were having concerning how cute Cedric Diggory looked in the hallway yesterday. Ginny did such an efficient job at tuning them out that she didn't even respond when Lavendar turned to her to try and get her opinion about it. When she didn't respond, Lavendar looked over to Ron and the others with a knowing grin.

"Well," Lavender said, as she pulled her favorite hairbrush from her purse and began to run it through her silky, blonde hair. "Looks like those four are back to normal."

"Good thing too," Parvati followed. "I was totally sick of Ron sitting next to us when we did our Divination homework. He kept on laughing at us."

Ginny fought hard not to laugh out loud herself at Parvati's observation. Lavendar and Parvati were almost like devout followers under the faith that was Sybil Trelawney. Ron seemed to make it a daily activity to belittle the somewhat airy Seer as he and Harry came up with increasingly insane answers for their homework assignments in that class.

"Girl, you're no good to us here! Why don't you just talk with him?" Lavendar asked impatiently. That question certainly got Ginny's attention.

"I'm not going over there to talk with Harry!" Ginny said, blushing as she often did when her thoughts centered around the wild-haired Gryffindor.

"Come on, girl," Lavender said while Parvati sniggered beside her. "I wasn't talking about Harry. Besides, Hermione's got him wrapped around her finger."

"I know!" Parvati nearly squealed. "What does he see in her? She doesn't do anything except study!"

"We're talking about Matt, Gin'," Lavendar continued as Parvati nodded in agreement. "We know he likes you!"

"What are you two talking about?" Ginny asked as she fought back the desire to gather what's left of her breakfast and flee from what would surely become an impromptu inquiry.

"Oh, come off it!" Parvati shouted, a triumphant look on her face. "There's no use denying it! I don't think I would go for somebody like him, he hangs around Hagrid too much! But, he is kind of cute."

Ginny didn't have the slightest clue as to what to say to that. What did they mean that he spent too much time around Hagrid? Since when was Matt cute?

"I've seen river trolls that look cuter than Matt MacDougal," Ginny said flatly.

"Have you seen his butt?" Lavendar asked Parvati, who giggled impishly in response.

"I'd spend some time around those blast-ended skrewts if I could get my hands on that!" Parvati shouted.

"Urgh!" Ginny growled as she hastily rose from the table amidst a gale of laughter from the two gossiping Gryffindors and stomped out towards Professor Moody's classroom. Sure, she'd be a half-hour early for the class, but anything was better than this!

"So just what does a pensieve do?" Ron asked.

"It lets you look into the thoughts of the wizard who controls it," Hermione replied as she dabbed her face with a spare napkin. "In this case, we looked at Dumbledore's thoughts."

"I'm not sure if I'd want to do that," Ron said unsurely as he placed his fork down on the dirty table. "Don't get me wrong, I like Professor Dumbledore, but he's as strange as they come."

"Strange people should never call other people strange," Matt said as he pointed his fork at Harry.

"Yes," Harry said as he pointed his fork right back at Matt. "It just messes up the grand scheme of things."

"Would you be quiet?" Ron said jokingly. "I'm trying to have a nice conversation with Hermione!"

"You better look out, Harry!" Matt said with an wicked twinkle in his hazel eyes. "I think Ron's trying to move in on your property!" Ron, not missing a beat, lightly slapped Matt in the back of the head.

"Don't ruin things for me!" Ron whispered urgently. "Why don't you make yourself useful and take Harry away somewhere while I ask Hermione out!" Harry placed his hands on his temples and nearly sunk into the table while Hermione stared down her two cackling friends.

"I'm no one's property," Hermione said coldly, pondering whether or not she could turn Matt and Ron into newts without anybody noticing.

"Anyway. . ." Ron continued as he took his knife and fork and cut into his slice of breakfast ham. "Just what did you guys see in the pensieve?" Harry, Hermione, and Matt looked at one another, silently discussing just who was going to tell the story and whether they should leave anything out. After a good five seconds of quiet contemplation, Matt sighed and raised his hands into the air.

"Looks like I'm telling it," he said as he turned his hips to put himself face-to-face with Ron. "Why am I the one that always has to tell the stories?"

"Because you're good at it," Hermione responded serenely "And besides, there are so very few things that you're proficient at. You may as well keep to your strengths."

"Shouldn't you go back to the Forbidden Forest and clean up all the vomit you left in the forest?" Matt asked sharply. "Some poor animal might slip on it and break their necks."

"Can we please move on with the story?" Harry pleaded as Ron tried hard to stifle his laughter.

So, without any further delays, Matt told Ron what the three of them saw in Dumbledore's pensieve. The trials of Igor Karkaroff, Ludovic Bagman, the Lestranges, and Barty Crouch Jr. were described with as much detail as the Ravenclaw could provide. Then, biting back the desire to ask Harry to go on with the next part of the story, Matt told Ron of what they saw between Macnair and Peter Pettigrew. The youngest of the Weasley brothers, as was often the case when a good story was being told, was an excellent audience, widening his eyes at just the right moments and paying close attention without saying a word. Finally, almost relieved to be finished talking about Pettigrew and Macnair, Matt told him about what Dumbledore said once they left the pensieve.

"That's some pretty heady stuff," Ron said, as he pushed what little was left of his breakfast to the side. "I never even guessed that Peter would have had a wife and child." Ron, quite alarmed with what he just said, turned back to Harry. "Of course, that doesn't mean Peter isn't a rotten guy!"

"I never said he wasn't." Harry said as he crossed his arms, his brow furrowed in concentration. "But it does answer a few of my questions about the whole matter."

"There's still too many questions left to make any sense of it, though." Hermione said. "If Peter was forced to give up the Potters, then why would he go back to Voldemort once Sirius found out? Why would he murder all those Muggles if he was an innocent man? And that's just the tip of the iceberg!"

"Why can't anything we deal with ever be just black and white?" Ron asked with frustration.

"Come on, Ron," Matt said as he speared the last of his sausage links with his fork. "Everybody knows that black and white is boring. Takes all the fun out of life."

"Speaking of fun," Hermione said as she rose up from her seat. "We've got Herbology in ten minutes. We best make our way to the greenhouse."

"Wonderful," Harry said as he hefted his Herbology book from underneath the table, holding it as if it was some kind of radioactive material. "I think if I see one more piper plant, I'll scream."

"Then at least warn me before you do so I can get my earmuffs," Ron said as he took a last bite of his ham.

"And I've got Care of Magical Creatures," Matt added as he rose from the table and started to clean the table along with his friends. "I better get over there before Hagrid thinks he can handle the skrewts all by himself again!" Then, with a furtive rush, Matt picked up his books and dashed for Hagrid's hut turning back to wave goodbye to the three Gryffindors as he left.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron would have followed their friend if they didn't see Neville Longbottom jmping towards them, his legs seemingly stuck to each other. As the clumsy Gryffindor had a panicked look on his plump face, his eyes bulging like the cheeks of a bullfrog. Some of the students, particularly in the Slytherin table, pointed at the young man and laughed, but most of the students simply ignored it. After all, this was hardly the first time that such a thing has happened to Neville.

"Hermione. . .huff. . .," panted an exhausted Neville as he nearly keeled over in front of the bushy-haired Gryffindor. "You. . .have gotta. . .huff. . help."

"The Leg-Locker curse again," Harry said as he examined Neville's legs. "Whoever could have cast this?"

"It was Malfoy, Harry!" Neville yelled. "Malfoy and his goons did this to me." Harry just smiled gently.

"I know, Neville. Just being a little sarcastic, is all." Harry said sympathetically, causing Neville's blush to spread even darker.

"Why didn't you just perform the counter-curse Neville?" Hermione said as she searched her bookbag for her wand.

"I would have but they took my wand!" Neville said, his voice a bit more frantic now. Harry and Ron both turned to the Slytherin table to see Draco Malfoy smiling at his handiwork, waving at them with Neville's own wand.

"Malfoy is going to pay for this one," Hermione said as she performed the counter-curse on Neville with no trouble. After a brief thank-you from Neville, Hermione turned her eyes to the Slytherin table and stared down the fair-haired Slyterin. "I'll see to it myself."

"AIN'T TO PROUD TO BEG!" A horribly off-tune voice sang from within Remus Lupin's shower stall. "PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME GIRL! AIN'T TOO PROUD TO PLEAAAAAAAD! BABY! BABY! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME GIRL!"

Remus Lupin covered his ears with his hands in an attempt to drown out the horrible sounds emanating from his bathroom, giving a silent plea to quite a few possible "higher powers," asking just what he had done to deserve such punishment. Admittedly, Remus should have been well aware of the price he might pay if he allowed Sirius Black to use his shower. After all, his old friend had ruined many an early morning at their dormitory back at Hogwarts with his abominable vocal styling. James and Peter would take time out of their day to discuss what they would do to shut Sirius up whenever he broke into song during his morning shower. No matter what James and Peter would do, no matter what complex hex or masterfully- manicured prank that they would try, the singing of Sirius Black would not be stopped. It was like asking to hold back the tides. Twelve years in the most feared prison in the wizarding world may have matured his old friend in many facets of his life, it seemed to have no effect on this one.

While Remus tried to remember just what the reward money was for his friend's capture, Sirius broke into a version of "Like A Rolling Stone" that would have made Bob Dylan wince. Upon hearing the first words, Remus groaned like a petulant little boy who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar and slowly banged his head against one of the kitchen cabinets.

"I wish he would just stick to the songs that I don't like," Remus grumbled in frustration as he removed the last of the dishes from his dishwasher, "now he's butchering the songs I still want to hear!"

He was certainly happy to see his old friend in a relative state of safety, particularly after their last parting at the end of Harry's third year ended on such a frightening note, but Remus was quite worried about why Sirius was here. From what he heard from Dumbledore, Sirius had been hiding in one of their old school-day hideouts near the outskirts of Hogsmeade to watch over Harry. Although Remus thought that his old friend's efforts were quite unnecessary, he knew that no argument would convince Sirius to do otherwise. Of course, the fact that Sirius did break away from such an important task meant that something big had to have happened, something that wouldn't be covered in The Daily Prophet.

Sirius emerged from Lupin's now steam-filled bathroom. An old, black Hogwarts robe was around his thin, ragged frame as he used one of his friend's hand towels to remove the water from his ears. Once that was done, Sirius casually threw the towel next to the sink and took a seat next to the kitchen table. Remus yanked open the door of his refrigerator and removed two bottles of lager from it, placing one down within Sirius' reach before taking the seat across from him. Lazily extending his arm, Sirius grabbed the bottle, removed the cap, and downed a good third of the bottle before speaking.

"Thanks for the shower, Moony, old pal," Sirius said as he used the hand towel to wipe away a stray droplet of liquid from his newly shaved chin. A shower and shave had definitely improved the appearance of the only escapee from Azkaban. His long, black hair was brusquely tied up in a ponytail and his night-black eyes seemed to sparkle once again with energy.

"You certainly looked, and smelled, as if you needed it, Padfoot," Remus said as he placed his bare feet on top of the kitchen table in true bachelor fashion. "You were giving off a stench that could fell a chimera."

"I'd like to see you spend six months in a cave with a hippogriff and come out smelling like a rose," Sirius fired back, the two old friends speaking as if they were still students at Hogwarts.

"Sure you don't need anything to eat?" Remus asked as he began to lift himself out of his chair. "No offense, but you're beginning to look pretty thin."

"That's okay, mum," Sirius said childishly as he rolled his eyes. "Matt and Harry have been giving me food parcels on a regular basis. I'm in a lot better shape than I was a while back."

"So you've met Matt McGonagall?" Remus said, pointing the spout of his beer bottle at Sirius. "Interesting fellow, don't you think?"

"Never would have thought that he'd be Minnie the Monster's grandson?" Sirius snorted as he took another swig of his lager. "Looks like he may be bringing some of the James out of Harry as well."

"How so?" Remus asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Why, he's started to pull pranks, Moony!" Sirius nearly gushed. "I never thought I would have seen the day!"

"I'm sure Lily would be proud," Remus said dryly.

"Come off it, Remus!" Sirius said as he sat up on his seat and placed his drink back down on the wooden kitchen table. "You taught Harry for a year! Even you had to have been worried that he'd become some kind of Pollyanna!"

Now it was Remus' turn to roll his eyes. "Please tell me that you had a better reason for coming over here than to tell me that Harry's racking up detentions!"

"Actually," Sirius said playfully, "I have three reasons why I came up here to visit ya!"

"And what would those be?"

"Well," Sirius began. "First, I wanted to check up on you to show you that I was doing all right and vice versa. Just wanted to make sure that we're both on the same page."

"No question about that," Remus said soberly. "Remember that we're Marauders, Padfoot. You're still my friend, always was."

"Very well then," Sirius said casually, although he couldn't help but smile. "Second, I wanted to update you on some of the things that have been happening at Hogwarts since your untimely dismissal at the hands of 'Slime-For-Hair'. I figured that you still wanted to be in the know despite your current state of seclusion."

"I've read what I could," Remus said, picking up his folded Daily Prophet to prove his point. "And I've been in frequent contact with Dumbledore ever since you showed up at Hogsmeade."

"Why, Moony!" Sirius cried, his hands fluttering up to his cheeks. "I never knew you cared!"

"I don't," Remus replied, not missing a beat from his friend's horrific impersonation of Scarlett O'Hara. "I just don't want you getting me into any trouble."

"Well, at least you're watching over me for the right reasons," Sirius said with a carefree shrug of his shoulders. His smile faded, however, when he spoke up again. "I trust you heard about Macnair breaking into Hogwarts on New Year's Eve?"

"Looks like Harry and the others were pretty banged up from it, from what I've heard."

"It was still pretty damn impressive for three 14-year-olds," Sirius countered. "Remember the time when Macnair went up against Hagrid? The big guy's still walking with a bit of a limp from what that madman did to him."

"I'm more worried about who saved them from Macnair," Remus admitted. "I never even considered that Peter would go back to Hogwarts during all this Triwizard mess."

"Let's worry about the rat a little later," Sirius said, his mind unconsciously flashing back to when Peter slipped from their fingers at the Shrieking Shack. "The big business now is Bartemius Crouch."

"Crouch?" Remus asked, a bit mystified over the sudden shift in their conversation. "What does that sycophant have to do with this? I know he was a judge from the Triwizard tournament before going to St. Mungo's but. . ."

"Crouch is dead, Moony. Murdered."

It was all Remus could do to spit out his beer in shock as Sirius told him the news.

"Hermione and Matt found him in the Forbidden Forest a week ago. Apparently someone checked Crouch out of St. Mungo's and took him to Little Hangleton. Crouch escaped and he tried to get to Dumbledore to warn him about something but he didn't make it."

"Macnair?" Remus asked, his hands planted firmly on the table.

"You know magic isn't really Macnair's style," Sirius said. "Besides, he was in the Ministry offices the entire weekend, according to Dumbledore."

"Then who?"

"Crouch's list of enemies was a mile long, Moony. It could be anybody. Besides, it's not who murdered Crouch that worries me. . ."

"It's where the murderer is now," Lupin finished for him as he used his wand to open the refrigerator door. With a swish and flick, two more bottles of beer rose up and levitated over to Remus and Sirius. Sirius accepted it gratefully, opened it slowly and gave a brief sip.

"There's a spy at Hogwarts, Remus." Sirius said with finality as he let out a breath mixed with equal parts frustration and alcohol fumes. "I don't know who he is, Harry doesn't, Hermione doesn't, Matt doesn't, Moody doesn't, hell, I don't think even Dumbledore knows. If he's after Harry, then the spy knows that he's running out of options."

"Or she's running out of options," Remus pointed out as he opened up his second beer.

"Whatever," Sirius pressed on. "They could get desperate, and I'm not sure what I can do to protect Harry if that happens."

"Have you ever considered the idea that Harry and his friends can take care of themselves??" Remus said this very slowly, well aware that he was walking on dangerous ground with this. "Heaven knows that they've handled another hazards without anyone else's help."

"Don't get me wrong, Remus," Sirius said with a heavy sigh. "Granger and McGonagall are damn good magicians, probably the best wizards I've ever seen at that age. However, they're still children. So is Harry. They don't deserve to have to face all this!"

"What would you do to help them, Padfoot?" Remus inquired as he placed his half-full bottle of beer on the table. "Give up your life, perhaps?"

"Absolutely."

"You're sounding awfully suicidal, old friend," Remus continued, looking at his old school chum steadily. "Quite a bit like Peter."

Sirius Black froze when Remus said this, horrified for two different reasons. One, the thought of being compared to that miserable, stinking traitor was something that reviled him to his very core and two, he couldn't help but think that Remus was right. Choosing to avoid any other possibility to be compared to Peter, Sirius rose up from the kitchen table and rifled through his small bag of belongings that he carried with him all the way from Hogsmeade. After a brief search, Sirius pulled out a small envelope, which he haphazardly tossed onto the table. Remus allowed the envelope to slide a bit on the slick wood before bringing it to a stop with his right hand.

"And what might this be?" Remus asked as he turned the envelope backwards and forwards with his fingers.

"Something that Dumbledore wanted me to give you when I came down here. It's from Mundungus Fletcher, as you can tell from the handwriting, I'm sure."

"Certainly," Remus said, the old mediwizard's muddled handwriting just glared up at him. The letter within the envelope was empty, the message within it obviously hidden by some kind of invisibility charm. The only visible print within the letter was at the top center of the page, where a red and orange drawing of a phoenix stood proudly.

"Haven't opened mine yet," Sirius said with a bit of mirth. "I figured I'll just look at your face while you read yours." Remus placed the letter on the kitchen table and ran his hands through his fading blond hair, now looking as if he was suddenly on the brink of exhaustion.

"So the old fool wants to revive The Order of the Phoenix, does he?" Lupin said as he shook his head sadly.

"I always said the man had too much time on his hands," Sirius quipped.

"What does Dumbledore say about all of this?" Remus asked as he resisted the urge to use his wand to set the letter ablaze.

"Pretty much what I expected. He is happy to support Mundungus Fletcher and all his representatives in the pursuit of justice and peace within the wizarding community. He hopes with all sincerity that many of the good people of England will view Mundungus and his compatriots as a form of inspiration to better themselves and the world they live in. . ."

"And?" Remus asked, drumming his fingers.

"And he isn't going to have shit to do with 'em."

"Good for Dumbledore," Lupin said with a slight smile and a sip of his drink. "Kindly tell those self-righteous, egotistical glory hounds that I also choose not to join their ranks the next time you run into them."

"Sure thing, Moony."

The Order of the Phoenix was an almost clandestine wizard organization founded by Albus Dumbledore twenty-two years ago, several months after Voldemort and his forces ransacked the Ministry of Magic. Remus and Sirius, both very interested in doing their part to protect the world from Riddle's tyranny, were enthused by the lofty goals of the Order and accepted their invitation to join. However, shortly after the deaths of Lily and James, Dumbledore severed all ties with the organization and, along with Severus Snape, left the Order to focus his time on Hogwarts. Lupin quit a week after Peter's "funeral" and now the organization mostly consisted of political radicals like Fletcher who struggled through the placidity of the present and pleaded for the past and Arabella Figg, a woman who generally wanted to do some good but seemed powerless to do so due to the lack of political clout.

The comparisons between many members of the Order and Bartemius Crouch were understandably inescapable.

"I still remember the time when Dumbledore asked Lily and James to join," Sirius said with a bit of a chuckle. "The only time I had seen them laugh any harder was the time Peter and I snuck into Old Lady Figg's room at Hogwarts and painted all her cats black. Old bat thought she'd have bad luck for the rest of her days!"

Remus laughed out loud at the memory of poor Arabella Figg rushing into the Great Hall at breakfast far faster than she honestly should have gone and screeching at Dumbledore to find the "heathens" who committed this "monstrous atrocity". Unfortunately, Sirius was laughing so hard at Figg's blustery behavior that Dumbledore and Groundskeeper Ogg naturally assumed that he was at fault and he and Wormtail spent the next three weeks doing every little odd job that Argus Filch could think of. Remus was never the free-spirit that Sirius was, nor did he have the penchant for troublemaking like James and Peter did, but he enjoyed a good joke as much as the next person. However, as is so often the case when dwelling in the realm of nostalgia, the happy thought soon connected to something that was not so amusing.

"I also remember Wormtail laughing quite a bit when Fletcher extended his invitation to join," Remus said soberly. Sirius' healthy laughter died down a bit as he too remembered that occurrence. The invitation nearly turned into a riot scene, with Peter laughing in Fletcher's face and shouting that the Order was nothing more than a denizen for fools who only cared about acquiring fame and fortune for their good deeds. Needless to say, their old friend was shunned quite a bit after his choice comments on such a popular wizard organization. James and Lily appeared to share the same opinion, but it appeared that neither of them chose to share it openly as Peter had.

"It's all seeming to boil down to ol' Wormtail these days, don't you think, Padfoot?" Remus asked sardonically.

"We had the rat, Remus. We had him ready for Azkaban and we screwed it up!" Sirius said with an angry shaking of his fist. "He made fools of us! Again!"

"He's been doing that for years, Padfoot," Remus said as he picked up his beer bottle once again. "Running away is what he does best. All we have to do is wait until he makes another mistake."

"Hate to point this out to you, Moony," Sirius said with another light sip of his beer, "but he's only slipped up once in twenty years. What happens if he doesn't make another mistake?"

"Then Voldemort will return," Remus said simply. "And I don't even think Dumbledore knows what will happen after that."

Another long pause cascaded through the cramped kitchenette as the two old friends looked at damn near everything except each other: their bottles of beer, the filtered sunlight flowing through the cracks in Remus's blinds, even the small, almost forgotten spot of grape jam that was congealing on the kitchen floor. Thirteen years was being relived in thirteen seconds as Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, two of the most well known wizards of their generation, listened to the simple buzzing of a refrigerator light.

"Peter was never this popular back at Hogwarts," Sirius said simply.

"No, he was not." Remus responded as he started to fold the envelope containing the letter from Mundungus Fletcher into a paper airplane. "He was the quiet one, Sirius. He was the one who would slip under everyone's eyes and just pop up when you least expected it. Now that I look back it, I'm beginning to understand why you all chose Peter to be the secret keeper. Who would suspect him of anything?" With that, Remus aimed his newly assembled paper airplane and let it fly. The bird of prey drifted to the left and crashed unceremoniously a good five feet away from the intended target.

"Your aim always did suck, Moony." Sirius said slyly. "And why are you using a Muggle garbage can? Why not just use your wand? You're becoming worse than Arthur Weasley with this obsession of Muggle stuff."

"To answer your question, I use a garbage can because magic is hardly necessary for this. . . and don't even dare to compare me to Arthur Weasley when it comes to Muggle relations. That's almost an insult."

Sirius just chuckled a bit as he polished off his second beer and rose from his seat to get another.

"So what's the third reason?"

"Pardon?" Sirius asked as he made a slight detour to shut the refrigerator door before walking back to the kitchen table.

"You said there were three reasons that you came here," Remus reminded him. "What's the third?"

"Ah!" Sirius exclaimed as he set the beer on the table and went back to his travel bag. A bit of searching produced two brooms that had been severely shortened with the Reducio charm. "The two of us are going to head out tonight. Harry, Matt, and Hermione are going to meet us at the Godric Gryffindor Cemetary at nine o'clock." Remus was a bit alarmed by Sirius' sudden request. The idea that Sirius could be spotted and the fact that the three people on the top of Voldemort's hit list would be away from the protective confines of Hogwarts didn't help him in the least. However, Remus wasn't about to let his worry eke out in front of Sirius Black. Showing concern for one's safety and hesitation over breaking the rules was something that Sirius scoffed at on a daily basis.

"Whatever for?" Remus asked coolly. Sirius replied with his old, child-like grin as his lips twisted into a debonair smile.

"An initiation."

"Not only will you need to describe the twelve uses of dragon blood with significant detail, you must also be able to tell the origins of many of the potions that we have used in this class this term as well in your third year. In short, this exam will show me what your enfeebled minds have learned in my four years of teaching you." Severus Snape was in full "professor mode" as he announced some of the many questions that could be on his harrowing final exam. His slick, black hair swished behind him as he paced back and forth his dungeon. Every now and then, Snape would turn his face upwards and stare at one of the poor fourth-years, causing them and many of the students in their close vicinity to shudder in fear. "Furthermore, you will memorize the exact ingredients of each of the potions that we have prepared in the last ten weeks of this class and give details of their individual uses."

Hermione Granger was making a silent prayer to all that was holy that her last remaining quill wouldn't snap as she furiously wrote away on an already crowded parchment. Snape was essentially giving them what would be on the Potions exam, and Hermione was not about to ignore this golden opportunity. Granted, the sheer amount of information that Snape was offering to his students was enough to fill up the Hogwarts library, but Snape was nevertheless giving them what was going to be on the exam.

Meanwhile, Ron Weasley was sitting next to Hermione not moving a muscle. Ron's pale face had an expression upon it that was a unique combination of shock, despair, and absolute fear. Like many of his fellow Gryffindors, and quite a few of the Slytherins, he had come to the natural conclusion that he would fail the Potions exam and continue to be taught fourth-year Potions until the end of time. An ignoble existence, no question about it, but it was the only conclusion that Ron could come up with.

The only other student in the classroom that was working as fervently as Hermione was Draco Malfoy. The blond-haired Slytherin, despite his moral and ethical faults, was a very good student, and Potions was his best subject. Malfoy was also spurned on by his desire to beat Hermione's marks this year. He cursed in frustration as the fine point of his quill snapped, causing a tiny puddle of ink to spill onto the lower-left corner of the parchment. After a slight bit of panicking, Draco simply snatched a spare quill from the hands of his friend, Gregory Goyle, who was as silent and still as a rock.

The only calm person in the room was Harry Potter. His status as a participant in the Triwizard tournament made him exempt from the final examinations. Although he often felt guilty about this and would help Hermione, Matt, and Ron with their studies, he couldn't help but smile at his situation right now. The black-haired Gryffindor lazily wrote on his parchment, not about to give Snape a reason to tell him off or take points from Gryffindor, and trying to avoid the nervous shaking of his Potions partner, Neville Longbottom. It was clear from the panic-stricken look on the portly boy's face that his day had not gotten any better since breakfast.

Soon, Snape had finished his examination review and gave the Gryffindors and Slytherins their potions assignment: create two different batches of Wit-Sharpening potion before the end of the hour. Neville, as was often the case when it came to making potions, was a blundering mess. Harry had to stop Neville three times from putting in the wrong ingredients before they had even started to work on the first batch.

"I'm sorry, Harry," the kindly Gryffindor mumbled, his squat eyes nearly brimming with tears, "it's just not my day today."

"Budge up, Neville," Harry said confidently. "We'll get this potion done before Snape has the time to tell us off." Harry's encouragement seemed to brighten Neville up quite a bit and he began to work harder on the potion. "Besides," Harry added with a mischievous twinkle in his emerald-green eyes, "I think something's about to happen to Malfoy that should really cheer you up."

Neville nearly dropped the porcupine quills he had in his hands on the floor before looking up at Harry.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked hesitatingly, rising up from his chair a bit to stare at Malfoy. Neville disliked trouble, even when it was dedicated to him.

"Don't look," Harry said softly. "Just watch."

Goyle watched in awe as Draco Malfoy made his first batch of Wit- Sharpening potion with a practiced ease. The Slytherin seeker just couldn't wipe the smile off his handsome face as Snape congratulated him for his fine technique and awarded Slytherin house five points. Malfoy was even more pleased to see that he had finished his assignment before even Granger, a wonderful rarity.

Nevertheless, Malfoy couldn't help but feel that something was wrong. Maybe it was that tingling sensation in his throat or that almost sinister smile that Harry flashed at him every now and then from across the room. Whatever it was, he couldn't shake it. As he added the porcupine quills to his second cauldron, the odd feeling in his throat slowly began to spread outward from the rest of his body, like the time when Alastor Moody turned him into a ferret for attacking Potter while his back was turned.

If Malfoy noticed the he had started clucking, he was doing a wonderful job ignoring it. Gregory Goyle stared at him, his usual befuddled expression looking positively ridiculous now.

"What's a matter, Draco?" Goyle asked, as he saw his fair-haired friend roll out of his seat and drop onto the balls of his feet. Malfoy had tucked his balled fists into the outside corner of his armpits and began to wave them back and forth frantically. His normally, stately neck was working itself mightily in an effort to keep up with his head, which was moving up and down wildly.

Not even Neville could resist laughing at what appeared to be Draco Malfoy's severely heartfelt impersonation of a chicken. It only took moments for the other Gryffindors to catch the bizarre sight and break out into laughter themselves. Draco's girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson, sprang from her seat and rushed to him, her face flushed with embarrassment. Severus Snape, on the other hand, slowly marched to the table while Malfoy continued to flail his arms and cluck like an escaped mental patient. The potions professor sent Pansy scurrying with a single look and placed his hands on the student's shoulders to steady him.

"Who did this to you, Malfoy?" Snape asked through clenched teeth. Truth be told, the wily former Death Eater was already coming to his conclusions but he wanted to hear it straight from the horse's, or chicken's, mouth.

Meanwhile, Draco was racking what was left of his willing mind to look back to anything that had happened today that would allow this horrible prank to be played on him. He remembered going in for lunch and sitting at the Slytherin table when he was accosted by Potter, that annoying Ravenclaw, and the mudblood Granger. Then, he remembered a similar incident that the Ravenclaw MacDougal pulled on him months ago, his eyes widening with the relevation.

"Professor!" Malfoy said hoarsely. "It was. . ."

"Yes?" Snape asked, moving in closer.

"It was. . . it was. . . P-GAAAWWWKKK!"

Nearly the entire class roared with laughter at Malfoy's predicament. Ron Weasley was pounding his potions book with his fist and laughing louder than anyone. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas both pointed and laughed at Malfoy like jackals in the night.

While Malfoy continued to cavort about the room clucking, Snape took some time out to come to his own conclusions. He was certain that Potter was involved, no question about it, but Potter was most likely to be the one who administered the potion, not in producing it. Potter's skill at potions were more than passable, but not enough for such a complex concoction. Also, most Transfiguration potions only had a shelf life of two or three hours, and Matt had been working in Hagrid's garden since the start of the day. That meant that the only two people that could have possibly produced such a complex potion was Draco himself or. . .

"GRANGER! GET IN MY OFFICE RIGHT NOW! YOU TOO, POTTER!"

Rising from her chair like a proud warrior, Hermione Granger walked to the front of the classroom with a confident gait, a devilish smile on her face as she locked eyes with Malfoy. Her wild-haired accomplice was right behind her, merrily accepting the applause from his fellow Gryffindors as Snape impatiently waited at the door leading to his storeroom, a horrendously sour look on his face. Hermione entered the storeroom briskly while Harry turned back and began to execute a graceful bow before Snape grabbed the scruffs of his robes and nearly threw him into the storeroom. Snape slammed the door with a mighty bang.

"Do you think the class is over?" Neville asked Ron, the only student who was still seated.

"I think it's safe to say so," Ron said simply as he watched the Gryffindors and Slytherins file out, wincing at the angry shouting of the Potions professor. Neville was about to follow the rest of his classmates out of the dungeon before turning around to see that Ron was still rooted to his seat watching Malfoy.

"Are you going to stay here to wait on Harry and Hermione?" he asked.

"Nah," Ron said as he calmly closed his Potions book and continued to stare at Malfoy. "I'm going to stick around to see if Malfoy lays an egg."

Harry and Hermione's punishment was unexpectedly light in their eyes: two weeks detention and forty points taken from Gryffindor house. Hermione was positively certain that Dumbledore had a hand in stopping Snape's efforts to make things even worse for them. Harry, meanwhile, was a bit worried that his latest trip to detention would interfere with their meeting with Remus and Sirius tonight. Thus, he was quite reassured to learn that their detention would start the next evening with Professor Snape.

"Are you certain you don't want to come along?" Harry asked his red- haired roommate as he climbed aboard his Firebolt, casting it aloft with a kick-off of his right foot.

"Yeah," Matt said, carrying Fred Weasley's Cleansweep as he walked towards the window of the Gryffindor boys' dorm. "It would seem kind of weird for there to be only three of us for something like this."

"Thanks but no thanks," Ron said with a hint of disappointment. "I know that I want to play a bigger role but I don't think that this is for me?"

"You're speaking like that git, Trelawney," Hermione quipped as she gave a nervous peek out the window, trying not to shudder at the sheer height.

"Well, you sound like McGonagall all the time and you don't hear me complaining!" Ron retorted as Harry shook his head and Matt raised an interested eyebrow. "Besides, I'm not sure if I really want what you offered. No offense, Harry."

Harry simply shrugged his shoulders as he did another tight circle with his Firebolt. "I understand. Just remember the invitation is always open."

"You got it," Ron said with his usual cheery smile. A smile that his three friends truly missed seeing the last week.

"Would you hurry it up, Hermione?" Matt shouted as he stopped his broom alongside Harry's. We'd like to make it to Godric's Hollow by the end of the term!"

"Why can't you just be patient!" Hermione yelled while taking yet another tenuous look down. She estimated that she would be flying a good three hundred and fifty feet in the air on this trip, a calculation that hardly eased her mind.

"Unless," Matt said slyly with a roguish grin, "you're too scared to join us up here."

"Don't tease her, Matt," Harry said with a touch of anger, "she's afraid of heights."

"Fear of heights has nothing to do with this," Hermione insisted. She was the last person who would ever admit to having a fear to anything. "I'm just concerned of what would happen to us if we were caught. We really could be expelled!"

"Come on, Hermione!" Matt said as he impatiently circled around Harry. "You're boyfriend is here to protect you if you fall, now let's get to Godric's Hollow!"

Ron tried his hardest to stifle his laughter at Harry's severe blush at the furious look on Hermione's face. He could have sworn to see steam coming out of the bushy-haired Gryffindor's ears.

"That's it!" Hermione growled as she mounted her broom and pulled out her wand with her right hand and pointing it at her Ravenclaw friend. "I'm going to turn you into a porcupine!"

"Eep!" Matt yelped as Hermione rocketed after him, her wand brimming with energy at the spell that she was trying to hit him with. Hermione's shouting and Matt's pleading for mercy didn't die down in the slightest even after five laps around the magnificent castle. As Hermione fired a spell that grazed Matt's brown hair and collided with the roof of the Astronomy tower, Matt swerved his broom around and rocketed off to the general direction of Godric's Hollow. Hermione, whose fear of heights seemed to have been forgotten for a moment, was hot on his heels apparently trying to strangle her friend instead of using magic.

"Better head off after them, you should," Ron said casually while leaning on the bank of the window.

"Looks like it," Harry said in an equally relaxed manner as he waved goodbye to Ron, made a lazy turn with his broom, and hurtled off after them.

It had taken a good five minutes to stop Hermione from trying to kill Matt, although the citizens of Hogsmeade were surely entertained by the free "light show" that Hermione's wand had produced throughout the merry chase. Soon enough, the three of them were coasting through the dry, night sky that was typical of early summer in Great Britain, an array of magical protection spells to keep them from Muggle radar as well as human eyes. Harry, whose speed and skill were far superior to his friends, would often break apart from the formation and perform barrel rolls and somersaults that an ace pilot would be envious of. Hermione, on the other hand, was still quite unsure of her flying skills despite her impressive display just moments ago. She wasn't scraping her fingernails across the broom anymore, but she was still flying quite slowly and with a bit of unsteadiness. Hermione didn't know what frustrated her more: the fact that she couldn't fly very well or the fact that Matt and Harry were constantly flitting around her incase something bad should happen.

"I'm just fine," Hermione tried to reassure them every time George's broom would swerve or lurch forward. Despite Hermione's troubles, the trio were able to make the 100-kilometer trip to Godric's Hollow in just under a hour.

The distant hamlet that was Godric's Hollow was quite an unnerving sight for Harry, and understandably so. As Matt and Hermione flew along beside him, Harry looked down at the upper-middle class homes with white- picket fences and well-manicured gardens and wondered where he and his parents had lived. After all, it was only three months after his first birthday that Rubeus Hagrid had taken him away from there and placed him in the care of the Dursleys. Any memory of his parents was something more valuable than gold to Harry, and he had spent much of his spare time talking his mother and father's childhood friends, almost pleading them to tell him more about them. He wasn't just searching for information, however, he was searching for a connection. Something that would help him understand why his mother and father were so missed, something that would help him understand why so many people asked for so much out of him.

And what he planned tonight was another big step.

"Godric Gryffindor Cemetary, ten o'clock." Matt shouted. He bent his knees and lowered his back to streak downward, moving ahead of the two Gryffindors so that he could lead the way. Skimming just above the iron gate that led into the grounds, Matt abandoned his broom with a graceful front flip and a soft landing from about eight feet up. A quick summoning charm brought the broom back to him as Harry and Hermione simply lowered their brooms and landed next to him.

The Godric Gryffindor Cemetary was hardly anything out of the ordinary, even after considering the quirky translations that many wizards had introduced when engaging in Muggle ceremonies. Some of the headstones were made of solid granite while others were made of hard wood that had been cleverly cut so that it would survive the rain and snow for decades. A rather impressive stone statue of Godric Gryffindor stood in the center of the grounds, as if watching over the human shells that lay beneath the ground. A raven, his plumage looking as if it had been dipped in oil, stood atop of it, looking at the three young wizards as if they were trespassers.

Harry's sharp eyes found the figures of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin a good twenty yards northwest of the statue. Two Comet 260's were hovering alongside them as they stood awaiting the children's arrival. Remus was kneeling over one of the gravestones near them, carefully placing a humble bouquet of red roses on top of it. Harry rushed up to his godfather and gave him a firm hug as Matt and Hermione said hello to their favorite professor.

"You look good," Harry said with a flicker of a smile while giving the black-haired Marauder a once over.

"The wonders of a good shower and a shave, my boy," Sirius said as he flashed a smile. Indeed, the food that Harry and Matt had seemed to restore some strength and vitality into the body of the "Fugitive of Azkaban." His eyes had regained that somewhat mischievous, somewhat charming glow that Harry had seen in his parents' old wedding photo.

"So Mad-Eye Moody is teaching you now?" Remus said as he grinned at his two favorite students. "Are you kids holding up all right?"

"We're doing very well, Professor Lupin," Hermione responded in the voice she seemed to always use when she spoke with a teacher. "Professor Moody's experience in the field of dark arts and hunting criminals has taught us so very much. We've learned all about how to detect wizard traps, how to cast reflecting charms against a number of different hexes. . ."

"How it feels to be subjected to the Imperious Curse, how to disassemble a toaster that you think is possessed by archaic demons, and how to utterly freak out every single person you come in contact with!"

"You're just criticizing Professor Moody because you can't pay attention in his class, Matt!" Hermione hissed.

"No, I'm criticizing Professor Moody because he tried to flash-fry my brain a couple months back." Matt retorted. "And what's this about not paying attention? My marks in that class are just as high as yours!"

"I bet you wish you could say the same thing about Transfiguration class?" Hermione nearly sneered.

"Well, I'm not the one who kisses up to that old bat on every possible occasion!" Matt sneered back as he scrunched up his face and began screeching in a high-pitched voice. "Oh, Miss McGonagall, would it be all right if I put away the lab mice? You had such a wonderful lecture today! I learned so much that I haven't read about fifteen times before I even got to the class."

"I do not kiss up to Professor McGonagall!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Hoo boy," Remus whispered as he slowly backed away from the two quarreling friends and made his way to the much quieter Sirius and Harry, both of who were watching the argument calmly.

"Those two always seemed so normal when I taught them," Remus said as he looked back at two of the sharpest minds at Hogwarts acting like petulant ten-year-olds ("Alastor Moody is highly qualified to teach a Defense of the Dark Arts course." "Yes, he's also highly qualified to be in a padded room at St. Mungo's!").

"Are you implying that my friends are not normal, Remus?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"If he not, then I am," Sirius said. "Both of them are nutters as far as I'm concerned."

"Sirius!" Harry barked.

"Don't get mad, Harry," Sirius said as he ruffled his godson's hair. "It's good that you're hanging out with weird people. Makes life a lot more interesting." Sirius would have gone on if he didn't notice that Harry was kneeling down to look at the two headstones that Remus and Sirius had been standing next to before they arrived. Harry's coursed thumbs swiped over his father's name engraved upon on it, as if trying to absorb the hard granite. No tears ran through his eyes, but a glum smile remained on Harry's features as he went over to his mother's headstone.

"I forgot that you've never been here before," Remus said as he knelt down beside him, gently rubbing Harry's back. "Seems like an odd place to do something like this, don't you think?"

Harry sniffed as he looked down at the flowers placed just on top of the grave of Lily Evans Potter before meeting Lupin's eyes. "No," he said with a wistful shake of his head, "this is part of my father's legacy and I want to make sure that he sees it."

"Fair enough," Remus said as he rose to his feet alongside Harry. "Perhaps we should get started then, don't you agree?"

"Sure," Harry said, his bright smile returning as he turned back to his two compatriots, who were still arguing to an increasingly inane degree.

"Oi!" Sirius called out loudly. "Just break it up and save if for another day! We've got work to do!" That finally stopped the escalating disagreement, with both of them giving each other one last glare before joining the others by the willow tree near James and Lily's graves. The three 14-year-olds stood side by side like stalwart soldiers awaiting command. However, when Sirius opened his mouth to begin the initiation, he discovered there was a slight problem.

"Um, Moony?"

"What is it, Padfoot?" Remus whispered, still staring at the three young magicians in front of them.

"Well," Sirius hemmed and hawed, "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do? Can you do it?" Remus was forced to break eye contact with the children to speak with Sirius.

"What do you mean you don't know what you're supposed to do?" Remus whispered, this time more urgently. "You were the who thought of doing this!" Sirius gave him a guilty look that seemed ridiculously childish to Remus.

"I'm no good at this sort of stuff!" Sirius admitted in a pleading tone. "I never thought we'd be doing this!"

"Well, you just told me about this today so I don't have anything to say either! You're just going to have to wing it!"

Meanwhile, Harry, Hermione, and Matt, who were quite capable of hearing every word that was said, patiently remained still.

"Maybe we should have looked for Peter to do this. . ." Matt whispered, only to be shushed by Harry and Hermione.

"Okay!" Sirius said purposefully as he turned around to meet the three of them. "Please get on your knees. . ."

"WHAT!!" Matt squawked.

"Oh for the love of. . ." Remus said as he slapped his forehead and nearly banged his head against the willow tree.

"Could you be serious for just one second Matt?" Hermione hissed.

"Well, a man who hasn't gotten any in fourteen years just asked us to get on our knees! Excuse me for having a bit of hesitation!"

"Matt!" Harry yelled.

"That's it," Remus said as he used his right arm to back his old school friend behind him. "I'll do it! No getting on your knees! No soldier lines! Just listen up!"

Remus cleared his throat a bit, a bit nervous that he would have to speak to his students once again. He was never much for public speaking, he usually left those things to James and Sirius back in the old days. However, he looked into the eyes of the three young people that stood in front of him, the hope and the courage that flowed through them and he found his words.

"When we formed the Marauders twenty-four years ago, we never thought that anyone would ever think that someone would want to take our places. The four of us were bound through our friendship and our love of life at Hogwarts, and the experiences that I witnessed with James, Peter, and Sirius are something that I shall hold into my heart until the day I die. Harry, you said that you wished to become a Marauder because you wanted to walk the same footsteps of your father. Let me say that your father would be shining with pride if he saw you here today."

Harry couldn't help but smile as he watched his godfather nod in agreement with that sentiment.

"As for the two of you," Remus continued. "Continue to watch over Harry and be there for each other. I know Dumbledore has told you that you have a long road in front of you and if our mantle gives you any comfort in what you have to bear, then I am more than happy to bestow it."

"And don't forget," Sirius added as he leaned back against the willow tree, "that a Marauder has to raise hell and not be afraid of anything! I want pranks on a daily basis, do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir!" Matt crowed while Harry and Hermione sniggered. Remus just turned to his old friend and shook his head.

"Well?" Remus said as he crossed his arms across his chest and looked at them expectantly. "Anything else you wish to add, Padfoot, old friend?"

"Nah, you pretty much said what I was going to say."

"Very well then," Remus said as he clapped his hands together. "I guess the only question left to ask is what names have you given yourselves?"

To answer, Hermione stepped from her place in the line and turned to face Harry and Matt. "I think we've already decided this."

"Indeed," Harry said as he and Matt joined Hermione in a circle as Sirius and Remus watched on.

"Moony," Hermione said as she stuck out her right arm, her fist in the center of the circle.

"Padfoot," Matt said as he too stuck out his right arm, his pinkie just grazing Hermione's thumb.

"Prongs," Harry said as he completed the circle. A small flicker of purplish-green energy coursed through their fists and snaked into the ground as the three of them stood. The three of them had nearly the same look on each other's faces, a look of both frightening determination and childlike enthusiasm.

"May heaven help us all," Sirius whispered good-naturedly to Remus, who just grinned in response.

Well, I wasn't planning on putting Remus into my work this early into the proceedings. I was planning on saving him until fifth year, but I like Remus as much as the next fan and it just seemed natural for him to be here. I hope none of you found this chapter too boring, I realize it's not my strongest chapter yet, but I did enjoy writing it.

I also wanted to say something else before I go into the next chapter preview. One of my reviewers said that I made Harry look dumb and I just want to defend that. I can certainly understand why someone would come to that conclusion after Harry's "constant confusion" in Pathways to the Past, so allow me to flesh things out a little better. Harry isn't dumb, you just have to consider the company he's with. Hermione is a genius, a prodigy whose knowledge of magic is second to none among her fellow students at Hogwarts. She could even give some of the teachers a run for their money. Matt can't match Hermione's raw intelligence and penchant for knowledge, but his knowledge of wizard history and the dark arts, which is something I'll get to later in this story and in some of my novellas later on, lessens the gap between the new Padfoot and the new Moony considerably. Throw in poor Harry, who is quite intelligent, though not as smart as Hermione, and combine that with his complete lack of knowledge about the wizarding world outside what he's been taught at Hogwarts and you can understand why Harry is so damn baffled. Anyway, enough self-defense! Next chapter preview, away!

It's the day of the third task and trouble looks like it's about to come full circle for our heroes. While Hermione and Matt race to find the traitor, Harry and his Triwizard rivals will face daunting challenges that could very well mean the death of them. Will Hermione and Matt be able to foil the mysterious traitor before he makes his move on Harry? What about Peter and Macnair? What are their roles in what's to come? Can anyone stop what already seems predetermined by Rowena Ravenclaw's prophecies? Find out in the twelfth installment of Harry Potter and the Scholar of Mystery: Into the Maze. Don't miss it!