Chapter 5 – Birthday Boy
Sirius's birthday was February twentieth, which happened to fall on a Friday. That Monday was the full moon, so Remus missed a day of schoolwork, including a Charms exam which he made up on Tuesday after class. Fairly certain that he'd failed, Remus raced back to Gryffindor tower to tackle two days' worth of assignments. Fifteen minutes into dinner, Sirius realized that Remus wasn't there and found him passed out over his Transfiguration book in the common room. Remus refused to go to the hospital wing although he was plainly exhausted, because he knew he wouldn't be released for a full day and there was simply too much to do. So James and Peter brought him dinner and Sirius doctored him with half a dozen potions.
On Wednesday Remus woke up half an hour late, wore his slippers to Great Hall because he couldn't find his shoes (Peter had planted begonias in one) and for breakfast drank four cups of black coffee. By Transfiguration, he was shaking so badly that Professor McGonagall ordered him to the hospital wing. Naturally, Remus refused to go, but the threat of a full Body-Bind convinced him at last, and he went under his own power, albeit reluctantly, and slept for fourteen hours straight without any magical encouragement. (When he was released, feeling much more civilized, Remus could appreciate the delicate irony of spending two days in hospital because of his attempt to avoid one.)
On Thursday, the evening before Remus's release, James and Peter arrived to visit Remus, and James was able to cajole Madame Pomfrey into letting them stay as long as they liked.
"Old coot," James said emphatically after they had all heard her office door close. "Although I guess I'd be sour too if I had to stay in this stinking place all day tending to bratty second years who curse each other senseless. But I don't expect she minds you too much –"
"Hand me the basin, I'm about to be sick," Remus said. "Can we please talk about something relevant, like Sirius?"
"Oh, so it's Sirius now, is it?" James said. "I knew there was something between you two –"
"Nothing but good clean air," Remus retorted. "And in case you'd forgotten, his birthday is tomorrow, you dipwad."
"Oh God." James smacked his forehead theatrically. "I completely forgot. You guys, we ought to do something for him –"
"James, be more considerate of Remus," interrupted Peter. "He's already exhausted, he doesn't need a heart attack on top of that."
"What better place than the hospital wing?" James said. "Besides, Remus knew I was joking, didn't you, Remus?"
"You were? Oh thank God," Remus said expressionlessly.
"See, Remus knew I wouldn't forget something like that."
"No, you just put it off till the last minute," Peter said.
"How ridiculous. Of course I don't," said James. "Now, what do you think about the cake? I know the house-elves will give him one at breakfast, but shouldn't we do something special for his eighteenth?"
"Yeah, let's have them use a butterbeer-flavored frosting," Remus said.
"That's exactly what I was thinking," James said, awed. "How did you know?"
"Let's get him Filibuster candles," Peter said gleefully.
"Now there's an idea," Remus approved. "I thought of something else, too – I guess I can take care of it when I get out."
"Okay," James said. "Everyone got him a present?"
"Yup," said Remus.
"Of course," said Peter. "You?"
"Yes." James looked offended. "And I made it myself."
"Sure you did," Remus said. "I suppose you have an evening trip to the Broomsticks or somewhere planned?"
"Actually not," James said. "We're going to have a nice subdued celebration here at the school –"
"Nice try James, but no," said Remus. "Even I am not so naïve as to believe that one."
"I wasn't finished," James said. "We have a tame party tomorrow after school, because he and I both need to rest up for the Quidditch game Saturday. After we win, the real fun begins."
"You got me," said Remus, impressed. "Nice fake-out. That reminds me, how'd you get rid of birthday boy?"
"We didn't even have to," Peter said.
"Thank the Lord, he's getting somewhere on your potion at last," James said. "He's spent the entire evening down there, so it must be something good."
"I'm such a fool," Remus said. "For a second I thought you cared more about getting Sirius out of the way than curing lycanthropy."
"Well, it's convenient, you have to admit," James said. "And I wouldn't be so sure he's working on your potion. He went out to get some ingredients yesterday and I could have sworn he came back with rosehips and fairy dust among other things, but wait – maybe it is yours after all."
"Are you getting sick of this?" Remus asked the ceiling. "Me, too."
"All I know is I wouldn't drink just anything he gives you," James said. "Particularly if it's pink."
Remus thought suddenly of Polyjuice Potion.
"Rosehips and fairy dust can be used in other things besides Love Potions, you know," Peter pointed out.
"At last," said Remus. "The Voice of Reason speaks."
James hmphed. "Well, you know what they say about protesting too much."
"What's that?" Peter said.
"It's highly suspicious and usually means that the accusation is true but you can't admit it. Star-crossed love," and James sighed gustily.
"Do you ever read bad novels where the accusation is actually false?" Remus said.
"Read? Why would I do an idiot thing like that?" James said.
"Where else would you get an idiot idea like that?"
"From bad TV shows, of course," James said. "At least I get to say I told you so at the end, but everyone's so happy that it doesn't really give me the satisfaction of being right."
"Who was the one who wanted to talk about something relevant?" said Peter. "Oh, I remember now."
"Any more party business? Good," said Remus. "So where's the curtain and chamber pot ensemble to cheer me up?"
"Oh, we figured you'd be out by tomorrow," James said. "You will be out, right?"
"Of course," Remus said. "I'll sweet-talk Pomfrey into it, and if she doesn't take it then I'll use my trump card."
"Your dubious charms?"
"Sirius's birthday, you prat. Now get out of here." Remus adjusted his pillows. "Your pale, sickly friend is desperately in need of some sleep."
"You've been sleeping all day, you lying toadspawn," said Peter.
"You'll be pale and sickly over my dead body," added James. "Who climbs onto the roof every spring when he thinks no one's looking for a good long broil in the sun?"
"No one else I know," Remus said. "Certainly not you."
"I'm leaving, bye now," James said loudly, walking out the door.
Peter stayed long enough to say, "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."
"Thank the Lord, now I can rest easy," Remus said.
"If you want, I can even ask Sirius how he feels about you."
"Not you too," Remus said despairingly. "Why is everyone convinced that Sirius and I secretly want in each other's robes?"
"It makes a darn good storyline," said Peter, and fled.
Too late, Remus realized that he and Sirius had already gotten in each other's robes, in a slightly different sense. He was even beginning to feel a bit pale and sickly.
"Heaven preserve me," he groaned. "I think I'm being corrupted."
"More medicine?" Madame Pomfrey had appeared from somewhere, smiling sweetly. Remus wondered wildly where the basin had gone. The medicine was purple, but that did not make him feel any better.
* * *
Remus had a bit of difficulty convincing Madame Pomfrey to release him, but release him she did and just in time for breakfast. Remus was thankful, not only because he was anxious to see how well the house-elves had carried out his instructions regarding the cake. The hospital wing seemed to affect his sensibilities adversely; his dreams last night had been bizarre beyond description, and he was still occasionally reminded of them in unpleasant ways as he pondered his toast.
Fortunately the house-elves were right on schedule. Eighteen of them appeared, singing "Happy Birthday" in as many keys, the one in the lead bearing a platter on which rested a head of Romaine lettuce. The students collectively found this very amusing and the laughter crescendoed as it became apparent who the birthday boy was.
"Oh darn, they messed it up," Peter said loudly.
"It's okay, Peter," hissed James, which happily Sirius did not hear. The elves had already stopped at his place and Sirius was beaming at them, the hall quieting in hopes of a memorable reaction.
"Why, how did you know?" Sirius said delightedly. "I hate lettuce."
This was pretty good; even the elves grinned.
"If you don't mind, I'll just have a leaf," Sirius said, reaching out, but he put his finger into icing instead, red- and gold-colored that said "Happy Legal Adulthood" and eighteen Filibuster candles which went off all at once, showering everyone in the vicinity with rainbow sparks.
Dumbledore led the cheering and another chorus of "Happy Birthday"; Sirius yelled gleefully, "Lettuce courtesy of Remus Lupin," and the accused grinned guiltily; half the Gryffindor table had a nice large piece of cake to start off the morning.
Things calmed down slightly during the day, although Sirius was apt to receive several comments and congratulations between every class. (Thanks to his new status as Gryffindor Chaser, his notoriety had shot up another few percentage points.) Still, all four of them were waiting with more than their usual impatience for the final bell, and when it finally rang they were first out the door, whooping like loons.
They went back upstairs to put their books away and James said, "Okay, follow me," in his best mysterious voice.
"A trip!" Sirius said happily. "This day does nothing but improve."
They went down through the school, exchanging greetings or insults with everyone they passed, and left through the front door. Even when it became obvious that James was leading them towards the lake, he refused to answer any of Sirius's excited questions until they arrived at a willow tree with a single red ribbon tied to one of its branches.
"Birthday boy first," James said, sweeping aside the branches, and Sirius went in, followed closely by Remus and Peter.
Judging by the size of the space (it was practically as big as their dormitory) and its relative warmth, James must have been working on it for a week at least. Judging by the spread of delicacies threatening to swamp Sirius's presents, he must also have made a trip to Honeydukes and probably one to Zonko's, knowing James. The dancing patterns of sunshine created by a light breeze off the lake were no magic but the willow's own.
"Food!" Sirius said happily, sitting down at a table and unwrapping a Chocolate Bullfrog. James, Peter and Remus scrambled for the remaining seats, knowing that speed was essential if they wanted to save anything from Sirius's ravening appetite. (Sirius had the enviable faculty of being able to eat at any time, anything he liked. He seemed never to get full. The time after the Halloween feast his second year when he had polished off an entire cake was already legend. Compared to Sirius Black in his prime, Crabbe and Goyle seemed positively picky.)
In a remarkably short time, nothing remained but empty wrappers, and James and Sirius were engaged in a tug of war for the last licorice rope. James let go abruptly and Sirius tumbled right out of the willow and into the lake, if the splashing noises outside were any indication.
"Oops," James said, not looking too repentant. "Last one's yours – happy birthday!"
"Thanks." Sirius parted the willow and re-entered, looking mutinous. "I suppose you didn't know that the squid liked licorice, did you?"
"That could be useful sometime," James said solemnly. "In case I ever decide to go diving for the secret hidden treasure of the lake, I'll be sure not to take a licorice rope to bring it back up with."
"Secret hidden treasure of the lake," Sirius snorted. "We all know there's nothing in that lake but seaweed and merpeople and a lot of fish."
"If you recall," Remus said, "you two started that rumor."
"And what a coup that was," Sirius said fondly. "James, I will never forget you running around screaming with your trunks full of seaweed."
"What does that have to do with treasure?" Peter said.
Sirius shrugged. "Nothing really. Just another lake-related memory with which I can embarrass James."
"Be quiet and open your presents, you slug," James said. "Start with the big one, it's from me. No, that big one."
Sirius ripped it open to find his scarlet cloak which now read Gryffindor Chaser, in gold thread of course.
"Hey wow!" Sirius said, admiring the letters. "This is gorgeous, James, I had no idea you embroidered. We ought to start a club – Domestic Males Anonymous."
"I don't embroider, actually," James said. "I tried but it ended up looking like the Snitch, so Remus bailed me out. He stayed up until three fixing it, didn't you?"
"I believe it was only two forty-five," said Remus.
"So wait, I'm confused. Peter gave me the cloak, Remus did the lettering, what did you do?" he said to James.
"I, er – had the idea."
"James, you'll make a wonderful manager someday," Sirius said. "Thank you, everyone, it's fabulous."
The next present was from Remus. It was a set of Ravenclaw bed curtains.
"Now this I have to hear," James said gleefully.
"Okay then," Remus said. "I was talking to Rohanna Lynch, she's in my Ancient Runes class, and she just happened to mention how witty and charming she found our Sirius, so I naturally asked her if she'd be willing to trade you her bed curtains, and –"
"Wait just a second," James said. "Sirius isn't in Ancient Runes, how would she know?"
"Oh, the entire school knows Sirius," said Remus vaguely. "At any rate, she must be very much in love with him, because she agreed to give him the curtains a day ahead so I could wrap them. I have to take Sirius's back down today."
"You have to take them?" James repeated. Sirius looked as though he was beginning to understand.
"Of course. She says she doesn't want Sirius to see her dorm all messy. Well, you know a Ravenclaw's idea of messy."
"I suppose she left her shoes on the floor," James snorted. "You ought to bring her up to ours and educate her about messy."
"Well, I don't –" Sirius began.
"By the way, the Lynch that plays for the Appleby Arrows is her cousin," Remus interrupted.
"What about Aidan Lynch, on Slytherin?" James said.
"Her brother."
"Sounds like you had a nice chat," said James, smirking. "Maybe she mistook you for Sirius."
"Oh, I don't know about that," Remus said, sharing a grin with Sirius.
"Be sure to tell her thanks from me," Sirius said. "All right, Peter, now for yours."
He pulled off the paper and found himself face-to-face with a lizard, stretched out in its cage and looking at him unblinkingly.
"He's great," Sirius said happily. "Does he have a name?"
"It's up to you," Peter said, grinning.
Sirius squinched his eyes shut to think. "How about Delmar?"
"Are you crazy?" James said. "It's never even seen the sea, probably."
"Huh?"
"Del mar, of the sea," James said. "Duh."
"How'd you know that?" Remus asked.
"I know a lot of things," James said. "You'd be surprised."
"Delmar it is," Sirius said. "Baby, you and I are going to the sea, just as soon as I get me some money."
"Crazy," said James regretfully.
"So what does he eat?" Sirius asked.
"Oh, just about anything," Peter said. "He seems to like flies a lot, though."
"Any food left?" Sirius said. "I wish I had some Cockroach Cluster right about now."
"You ate everything, remember?" Remus said.
"You helped," Sirius said. "I wonder if he'll eat leaves?" He broke off a branch and stuck it into the cage. "Well, thank you, everyone, it was a lovely birthday," he said, "but James, I'm a bit curious as to why we didn't hold the usual soirée at the Three Broomsticks."
Remus sniggered. "This one's all yours, James."
"In case you'd forgotten," James said, "there is a Quidditch match tomorrow and the team goes to bed at nine o'clock."
"Ah," Sirius said. "I knew there would be an element of sacrifice involved in playing Quidditch, but I had no idea it would be so painful."
"I'm thinking of putting the team on a diet," James said. "No sweets of any kind for starters."
"You doing anything tonight?" Peter inquired of Remus.
"No, you?"
"Oh shut it," said Sirius.
* * *
Sirius woke up at five thirty-six the next morning, shivering madly even under three blankets.
"Oh God, I think I have pneumonia," he said to himself. Sitting up, clutching his blankets around him, Sirius realized that his beautiful blue curtains were flapping as if in a breeze. Pulling them aside, he discovered that it was in fact a breeze, which was coming from the wide-open window.
Sirius gave his curtain a decisive yank and it fell down on top of him. Wrapping himself in its folds, he padded over to the window and wrenched it closed, muttering, "I think I'm going to get pneumonia. Now what kind of idiot would leave a window open all night in February?"
"That was you, actually."
"Remus!" Sirius
whirled around. "Did I wake you?"
"No, I just heard you talking." Remus emerged from behind his curtains, scuffing his feet into his slippers. He rubbed his eyes and said, "You looked like a prince for a second there."
"Yes, blue becomes me, doesn't it?" Sirius smirked at himself. "Whoever wrote the dress code for this school must not have known how awful I look in black. I suspect it was Salazar Slytherin."
"I couldn't agree more," Remus said. "You look like such a scarecrow in black."
"Really?" said Sirius, looking horrified.
"Well, you keep saying that. But wouldn't you rather look like a demented sheepdog?" Remus scowled at himself. "I thought not."
"Oh, is it time for a haircut again?" Sirius said happily. "Hand me the scissors."
"I'm not letting you near my head with scissors ever again," Remus said emphatically. "Not after last time."
"Nothing a few spells couldn't fix," Sirius said. "Besides, how will I ever learn to cut hair if you won't let me practice?"
"I see you've found a new calling," Remus remarked. "What a pity to waste your potion-making skills, but hairdressing is a noble trade."
Sirius blushed. "Well, I'm going to have to earn my living somehow, won't I?"
"You could open a bar," Remus suggested. "Or teach Potions."
"Ugh, why would I ever do that?" Sirius said. "Students are such disrespectful dullards."
"I quite agree," Remus said. "Would you hand me the mirror?"
"So you are going to cut your hair," Sirius said triumphantly.
"Quiet, you're going to wake James. No, I think I'm just going to admire my gorgeous self instead."
"It's a popular diversion," Sirius admitted, giving him the mirror. "If you discover the attraction, do let me know. I'm rather curious to find out."
"It must be in the eye of the beholder, because I can't find it either," Remus said. "Actually, hold the mirror while I look for the scissors."
"Learned your lesson about summoning pointy objects, did you?" said Sirius.
Remus flinched. "Yeah, I'm not too keen on having a pair of scissors buried in my palm." He went over to the desk and sifted through stacks of parchment, muttering, "I know I set them down over here when I finished wrapping your gift."
Sirius looked up. "Oh, did you get the other curtains to Rohanna last night?"
"Uh-huh," said Remus, now searching the drawers. "She really did enjoy your antics in Runes, by the way."
"But she thought it was you, didn't she," Sirius said sagely.
"Well, you did look an awful lot like me at the time," Remus admitted, grinning. "Besides, Polyjuice is illegal, I couldn't exactly tell her you were me, then we'd both be down for Azkaban."
"Right," Sirius said. "That's quite clever of you, but I wish you'd thought to use your charming personality on some pretty girls while you were me."
"Sorry," Remus said. "I admit I was a bit disconcerted in Potions. Rats, I can't find those scissors anywhere."
"Would James or Peter have them?" Sirius said quickly.
"I don't know why they would."
"You could always summon them," Sirius suggested.
"And poke another hole in myself. Thank you, but no. I've had enough of the hospital wing to keep me for another lifetime," Remus said. "I suppose I'll just have to spend the day looking disreputable."
"You'll probably make it the new craze," Sirius said.
"You'd better hope I do, because it seems to be your style of choice. Do you even remember the last time you had a haircut?"
"Actually I don't," Sirius said. "It must not have been too traumatic then."
Remus sighed. "If you're so talented, why not cut it yourself?"
"It wouldn't be the same," Sirius said. "Having this haircut is critical to my self-perception."
"But it isn't very aerodynamic, is it?"
Sirius snorted. "I doubt my hairstyle is going to severely impair my game."
"Huh," Remus said unhelpfully.
"Well, I suppose I'd better get dressed," Sirius said. "Put this back up, would you?" Sirius tossed Remus the curtain and began to hunt for his Quidditch scarf.
It took Sirius a full hour to find and put on his outfit. In that time Remus had gotten dressed and cleaned most of the parchments off the desk in his quest for scissors.
"Pathetic," Sirius muttered, lacing up his boots.
James pulled open his curtains, eyes squinched shut. "Sirius, get me my regular curtains back," he demanded. "I can't stand this awful yellow."
"All right, all right," Sirius grumbled. "Anything else?"
"Changing rooms at ten-thirty sharp," James said. "We have to have time to sing all fifteen verses of our theme song before the game starts."
"I only know the first eight," Sirius whispered frantically to Remus.
"If James gives you any trouble, ask to see his copy of the lyrics," Remus whispered back. "He keeps one in his Quidditch robes."
Sirius grinned. "Hey, thanks."
At eleven o'clock, Remus and Peter took their places in the stands in pleasant anticipation. Every Quidditch match that is described anywhere has something unusual happen during it, and our two spectators were hoping for an invasion of the field, or at the least a new and inventive foul to add to their list (provided it was Ravenclaw's fault). However, the only unusual thing to happen was that Gryffindor lost.
"It wasn't your fault," James said comfortingly to Sirius as he led the team off the field, stoically ignoring the wild cheers from the Ravenclaw team. "The three of us scored five goals, it's just that their Seeker got in ahead of Abelman –"
"I feel like such a rat," Sirius groaned. "Like I let down the team."
"No, that's my job," Peter said cheerily, coming up to them with Remus close behind.
"Don't feel bad, Sirius, you flew really well," Remus added.
"Yeah, I guess we'd better have a party for you, hadn't we?" said James.
"Well, not if you don't feel like it," Sirius said.
"Okay then. I should probably go talk to Lily, if I can even look her in the eye. We'll get 'em next time, eh?" and James was off.
"This is our last year, there is no next time," Sirius said darkly to Remus and Peter. "I suppose that ungrateful git wants me to return his curtains while he's off canoodling with Lily."
"James isn't ungrateful," Peter said.
"No, I think he's more the thoughtless type," Remus agreed.
"You're right," Sirius said. "If he thought a bit more about consequences, he wouldn't be half so brave."
"It isn't his fault we lost," Remus pointed out gently.
"Fine, it's my fault, now I feel so much better," Sirius said. "I'm going to go drown myself in the lake now. You can have my broom once I'm gone if you like, Remus."
"You don't want to drown yourself now, though," Remus said. "It's so cold in February. Wait until May or June at least."
"You're right again, I suppose," Sirius said. "Besides –" he brightened a little – "think how boring your lives would be without me."
"Insupportable," Peter agreed.
"Oh, and Remus, I'd be obliged if you'd cut my hair whenever you find the scissors. Even if it didn't actually slow me down, you can't be too careful."
"Of course not," Remus agreed, suppressing a smile.
* * *
Gryffindor's defeat didn't keep Sirius down for long, particularly once Remus discovered the scissors under his bed (but still clueless as to how they'd arrived there. "Maybe we've got gnomes," James had suggested wisely). Monday evening Sirius, his usual buoyancy fully restored, was lying on his stomach in the dormitory perusing their calendar. Remus was at the desk working, James off helping Lily with her homework and Peter on a mission to trade in his Hufflepuff curtains for a Slytherin pair. ("That way we can have all four houses in one room," he'd said happily. James had merely rolled his eyes and said, "How incisive of you.")
"Don't you have some kind of potion to invent?" Remus said irritably to Sirius. "Not all of us finished our questions three hours ago, you know."
"Everyone else seemed to," Sirius said lightly. "Oh no," he added in a tragic voice.
"What now?" Remus snapped, flinging down his quill, which accidentally went out the open window. "Curse it, that's my third best one, too."
"Tomorrow's Mardi Gras," Sirius said.
"Whoop de doo," Remus said, hunting maniacally for another quill. "What're you going to do about it?"
Not much, it turned out. Oh, there were the chickens that marched down the aisles at breakfast with their plumage dyed green, gold and purple in honor of the day. There was the elaborate feathered mask that Sirius insisted on wearing all day, even in lieu of his goggles during Potions. There were the cascades of beads adorning the suits of armor, and of course not even Hagrid seemed to be able to catch the chickens, so they caused a bit of mayhem in the corridors between classes. But all in all, the spectacle was far below the stringent standards to which Sirius normally held himself. When James pointed this out, Sirius merely shrugged.
"I only had one evening to put it together, and you know I need at least four hours of sleep to function," he said.
"I wish I could function on four hours of sleep," James remarked.
"If you took as much Wakefulness Potion as I do, you'd probably only need four hours too."
"Isn't that stuff supposed to be addicting?"
"Course not," Sirius said. "I can quit whenever I want."
It was also Sirius who persuaded them to go for a butterbeer or two at the Three Broomsticks. All of them, that is, but Remus.
"I don't want to," Remus said for the fifteenth time.
"Why not?" Sirius whined. "Please, pretty please with a cherry on top."
"I hate cherries, you know that."
"You're no fun."
"I'm well aware of that," Remus said irritably.
"I'll go drown myself in the lake," Sirius threatened.
"Over my dead body."
"Come on, what're you going to do with yourself all night?"
"Summon a few evil spirits and have a nice friendly hand of poker with them. What else?"
In the end, Sirius gave up and he, James and Peter left through the convenient secret tunnel just down the hall from the portrait that let out into an abandoned garage on the main street. Its only disadvantage was the quite large grease stains they sometimes gathered crawling across the ground, even for such a relatively short distance; yet another reason to be thankful for the discretion of house-elves. They all straightened their robes and exited the garage as if they owned it, heading down the main street towards the Three Broomsticks. James returned the smile of a pretty witch walking the other way.
"Not too bad," James muttered to his friends, carefully not moving his lips.
"Oh my God, how gorgeous," Sirius said.
"You're not so bad either," the girl returned as James said, "Well, so you wake up at last. I admit you've had me thinking that maybe you and Remus –"
"No, that." Sirius pointed across the road and James and Peter saw a gleaming motorcycle parked in front of a ramshackle cottage. A for-sale sign was propped against the front wheel.
"I have to have it," Sirius said, his eyes gleaming almost as much as the bike.
"Sirius, I think you need a driver's license to ride one of those," James pointed out as gently as he could.
"Actually, a motorcycle license," Peter said.
"Plenty of time for that once I get it," Sirius said dismissively. "The real question is how to scrape up the gold."
"How do you think you're going to get it anywhere if you can't drive it?" James said.
"And where would you keep it?" Peter added. "Somehow I don't see Dumbledore letting you park it on the lawn."
But Sirius was already jogging across the street, presumably to have a closer look at his new love. Peter and James traded despairing looks, and followed.
"Two hundred Galleons," Sirius said miserably when they caught up with him. "I've never even seen that many Galleons in one place that weren't fakes, or candy or something."
"Didn't you get some birthday money?" James said, running an appraising hand over the seat. "Good leather, that is."
"Yeah, Mum and Dad sent me two Galleons," Sirius said. "And they told me to buy something useful with it. I'd better not be expecting much fiscal support from them."
"I'll give you five if you let me take Lily out on it," James said.
"I'll give you five if I can drive it through the forest sometime," Peter said.
"Great," Sirius said. "Assuming I can get Remus to give me five too, that only leaves me with –" He thought, counted on his fingers, ran out and had to borrow Peter's. "One hundred eighty-three Galleons to earn, borrow or steal – probably steal. Maybe I can sneak into Gringotts."
"That's just suicide," said James, tracing the headlamp with his finger. "You know what happened to that Dark wizard they caught in there around Christmastime."
"I guess they've got families to think of too," Peter said.
"Don't be daft. Dark wizards haven't got anything but black ice for a heart."
"You could sell some of your potions," Peter said.
Sirius snorted. "I already do. You know how much I get per flask? One Sickle, and that barely covers the cost of ingredients."
"So figure out how to get back your golding potion and set up your own mint," James said.
"Oh my God, that's it," Sirius breathed. "You guys, I have to get back to the castle."
"No," they said in unison.
"I'll read every book I own to that damn lock if that's what it takes to find the magic word –"
"Sirius, it's Mardi Gras," James said. "It only comes once a year, you know, and this is our last at Hogwarts."
"What happened to butterbeer and carousing and the all-night buffet?" Peter added, an appeal to the gourmand in Sirius which unfortunately backfired.
"I won't spend a single Knut on butterbeer, not while this is in the world," and Sirius looked meaningfully at the bike.
In the end James won out by reminding Sirius that the trip had been entirely his own idea, along with a few well-placed threats to make his life exceedingly miserable, both on the Quidditch field and off. So Sirius went, but grudgingly and immersed in his shining new dream. Indeed, Sirius bought not even a butterbeer and only ate whatever he could sneak off the others' plates, and he was so distracted that he failed to start even a minor argument. Without him, Mardi Gras was nothing, so reluctantly James and Peter trailed an elated Sirius back up to the castle hours earlier than either of them had expected.
Remus was curled up by the fire again, mostly asleep, his head on a pillow that had been clumsily transfigured from a schoolbook, if the still-legible title was any indication. Sirius catapulted onto the couch next to him and yelled, "Wake up Remus, good news."
"You've signed up for your first lesson in tact?" Remus stretched catlike, nearly sending his book-pillow into the fire as he sat up and blinked sleepily at Sirius. "No, I think you must have been in hospital during that one."
Sirius tried to look angelic, which on him was forlorn. "Remus, good friend, I need five Galleons."
"News first, solicitations later. I want to hear what my gold is going for, and it had better not be the Sirius Black slush fund."
James looked at Peter, a look that said all his suspicions were back in spades. They both retreated hastily to the dormitory.
"Motorcycles," said James, closing the door carefully and sealing it with some kind of spell. "They're dangerous enough alone, but then you add the gold and Sirius is in well over his adorable curly head."
"Adorable, you said?" Peter retreated a step or two.
"Oh, don't be so suspicious."
"You are," Peter felt obliged to point out.
"That's different. I have a girlfriend."
Peter recognized a dead end when he saw one. "D'you think Sirius'll get his two hundred Galleons?" he asked instead.
James laughed. "Not in this lifetime. Not unless he holds you for ransom."
The door flew open; Sirius was practically dragging Remus by his sleeve. "I'll give you three if I can help you break the lock," Remus was saying.
"You can spare five," Sirius said emphatically.
"I locked that door," James yelped.
"Not too well, apparently."
"Fine, take the bloody five." Remus began searching through his trunk, flipping Sirius the coins one by one.
Sirius grinned, turning them over in his hand. "Boys, if you have your five handy –"
Grumbling a bit, the other two turned to their trunks. Peter gave up his gold fairly readily, but James was frowning into his trunk, motionless.
"What, did you take out a loan with the leprechauns?" Sirius said.
"My robes –" James held one out.
"Inside-out," Sirius said shakily.
"Witchcraft," said Peter.
James laughed, and there was no mirth in it. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had you forgotten? This is Dark stuff, here."
"But only a Gryffindor –" said Remus.
"Or," James said, "a Slytherin who knows a Gryffindor."