Disclaimer: I have a meeting with Buddha on Saturday, so should it go well and no one goes Corleone on me, Harry Potter will be mine. But not until Saturday.
RANDOM EVENT OF THE CHAPTER
Word of fabulousness:
- . It's a German word, meaning the obnoxious author's name isn't Oxford, so go look it up yourselves, because I'm promoting that warm fuzzy glow that only independent accomplishment can give you.
SPOILERS: Besides the obvious ones. Let's just say I'm facing my Book 5 fears. Bwa.
* * *
Chapter 4: Life Issues
Remus woke up at four am with mixed feelings. The first was of intense relief, for his yearning to watch another movie had abated tremendously over the night. The second was of intense misery, for Remus did not have his toothbrush with him.
To most people, the lack of a toothbrush was a trivial setback. To Remus, it was the nameless terror of his existence, the thing he dreaded the most in the entire world. This was because Remus was a clean freak, which suited him fine during most circumstances. Unfortunately for him, his current circumstance was quite unlike most.
Luckily, Remus was, as well as a clean freak, a pragmatist. This meant that the werewolf was already searching frantically for the solution to his problem, racking his brain for the evasive answer.
I could always just transfigure one, he thought, temporarily enheartened.
But they never turn out right, and I won't have some grotesque quasi-toothbrush, thankyouverymuch... Damn it all, I want my happy movie!
The moment those thoughts formed in his brain, Remus made the astute decision to go back to sleep, praying that a little R.E.M. dreaming would solve his problems once more.
Remus' next awakening was at nine in the morning, to the smell of eggs being cooked. The werewolf's acute senses told him that someone was making breakfast, presumably of the egg variety. He would have to move quickly.
LILY, NO DON'T DO IT!!! Remus thundered, crashing into the kitchen with all the grace of, well, Sirius. Lily jumped a foot in the air, whipping around to face him angrily, spatula in hand. James, who was sitting at the kitchen table feeding a curious-looking Harry, didn't even look up as he spoke to his frazzled wife.
Don't worry, sweetie, Remus is just being his usual, manic self, he stated, as if that made the situation acceptable. Remus glared at James for a nanosecond before reconcentrating his energy on the mission at hand.
Please don't do it, Lily, I'm begging you, the lycanthrope pleaded, and while Lily looked immensely relieved that he had stopped yelling, she still looked hugely peeved.
What, Remus. What horror shouldn't I commit? she asked, hands on hips. Remus looked aghast at her ignorance to the situation.
Lily! I can't believe you! I would have thought you, of all peop- James recognized a rant when he saw one, and was quick to interrupt again.
Moony, shut up, and I mean that in the nicest possible way. (Remus shut up.) Lily, darling, he's talking about the eggs you're frying.
The whuh? the red-head questioned articulately, shooting both Remus and James worried looks.
The eggs, pumpkin, the eggs, her husband repeated slowly, while Remus nodded frantically. He wants you to flip them.
There was a pause, during which Harry spat up.
Well, it only makes sense, Lily, Remus extrapolated, looking somewhat abashed. I mean, do you know how much bacteria is on eggs that are sunny-side up?
Lily stared at him for a long second before scraping her obviously sunny-side up eggs onto a plate. Remus gasped, mortally hurt.
Lily - what - why - ?
Because you're neurotic, that's why, she uttered, shoving the plate into his chest. Here. Breakfast is served.
I can't eat this! Remus cried, forgetting his usually perfect manners in the heat of his fright. It's unhygienic!
Lily's eyes narrowed dangerously, and she stepped forward, waving her spatula in a most intimidating manner.
I'll unhygienic you if you don't shut up and eat it, she threatened, pleased to note that Remus was already sitting down and reaching for his fork before she even finished. That's better.
James, meanwhile, was snickering quietly. This didn't remain unnoticed for long, because the moment Lily sat down with her (to Remus' mute terror) sunny-side up eggs, she faced him questioningly.
Oh, nothing, he responded, I was just thinking about how ironic it is for you to be calling someone else neurotic, dear.
And that was the moment that Remus decided he would go home to get his toothbrush.
As Remus reached the front door, he heard the distinct sound of a plastic spatula hitting someone's forehead. He was about to turn the doorknob when it turned on its own, prompting Remus to take a cautionary step backwards.
The door swung open, and Peter Pettigrew stepped into the house.
Sorry, the door was unlocked- oh, hi, Remus! Peter smiled, reaching behind him to shut the door. Remus, however, wasn't about to let his chance at getting his toothbrush slide, catching the door with his foot.
Hello and goodbye, I'm afraid, he explained, feeling a little guilty for leaving Peter to witness James and Lily's newest battle. I'll be back soon - just going to get my toothbrush.
Peter, as it were, didn't need further explanations, well-versed in Remus' clean freak ways. He bade Remus farewell, and no sooner had he done so than the sounds of war reached his ears.
Not again, he thought despairingly, this sort of thing can't be normal...
Peter entered the kitchen with some trepidation, unsure of what awaited him inside. As it were, Lily was currently in the process of making a dent in James' forehead with the spatula, while James attempted to calm her. So far it didn't seem to be working.
Lily - ouch! - you can't say - that hurt, damnit! - you're never - ow! - a little - OUCH! - neurotic - YAAAARRRRGGH!!!!!!!
Who's neurotic now, James, who's neurotic now? she fairly whispered, setting down the spatula on the table while James clutched his forehead in agony.
Not neurotic, Lily, brain-damaged! he tossed back, never in too much pain to not give his two cents worth. And I'm not even gonna mention the possible disfiguration you've just caused...
Lily raised her spatula.
GOOD MORNING! Peter shouted, effectively saving James from further abuse. Lily turned her head sharply in his direction, uttered a swift good morning' of her own, and faced her husband once more, never easily deferred. James, however, had stood up from the kitchen table and was inching towards the sliding door leading outside, offering Peter his most enthusiastic greetings all the while.
Wormtail!!! How are you?! What a pleasant, pleasant surprise this is!!! Sure is a beautiful day today, isn't it?! What say we step outside and look at the beautiful day, hm?!!
Peter saw no sense in responding, as James was already in the back yard. Lily was fuming silently, clearly looking for something to take out her rage on, so Peter quickly joined his friend outside.
What was it about this time? Peter asked, as soon as they had moved a suitable distance away from the house. Did you ruin another one of her combs?
No, and that never happened! James began indignantly. He then sighed, rubbing his bruised forehead. I accused her of being neurotic-
Bad move, Prongs, reeeeally bad move.
Yes, well, thank you Mr. Hindsight-Is-Twenty-Twenty, the stag Animagus replied sarcastically. Peter didn't even pretend to be hurt by this, far too accustomed to James' caustic remarks. But you're right, I should have known better.
Yep, you should've, Peter agreed. James sniffed, turning slightly away from his plump friend.
Thanks ever so much for the words of comfort, Pete.
Well, you should've! the rat Animagus protested, but he mumbled an apology all the same. James shook it off with an amused shake of the head, then changed the topic.
So what brings you here, Peter? I thought you were pretty busy job-hunting, James speculated.
Oh, no, er, I-
You must have found a job then! Peter gave an uncomfortable nod, and James beamed. That's great! Hope the hours are flexible so you can come around more often, eh?
Er, well, yes, they are, in a manner of speaking... the short man mumbled, looking distinctly nervous. Right now I'm just... on call, I guess.
You guess? James grinned, nudging Peter with his shoulder. Betcha don't have a clue what you're supposed to be doing, right?
Right! Not a clue, that's me, Peter agreed, hoping James would drop the subject.
Where are you working, then? For a company, I gather? James continued jovially.
Yeah, it's a muggle shipping company, Peter supplied. Only job I could find, shifting boxes around all day...
Sounds like a drag.
Oh, it is, yeah. Really boring.
I see, James nodded, casting around for another topic. Suddenly, he let out a short laugh, causing Peter to start. You know what, Pete? You never got around to telling me why you're here!
I'm looking for Padfoot, actually. He owes me money, explained Peter, as James dusted off his jeans, smirking.
Still hasn't paid you back, has he?
Peter let out an explosive sigh in response.
No, no he hasn't - and I suspect it's the same story with half the population of Britain, he grimaced, shaking his head despairingly. You'd think he'd at least pay me back...
And why do you think that, Wormtail? questioned James, mind struggling to get around the concept of someone believing that Sirius would pay them back.
Because the amount he owes me is not trifling, nor is the amount of time he's been owing it to me. Since third year, James, practically a decade ago. I lent that great sod five galleons in third year and it's my life's greatest regret.
Didn't Remus and I warn you at the time that it was an enormously bad idea?
Yes, but a fat lot of good that did when it's Sirius I'm up against! Honestly, he was practically latched onto my leg, begging and groveling - no one can refuse Sirius when he's pathetic like that!
I do, James answered impassively. Make it a weekly exercise, as a matter of fact. Does wonders for the constitution.
Peter gave him an envious look, reverence apparent on his features.
Well, of course you're able to, being his best friend and all, Peter remarked. I think you're entitled to it.
Yes, I am, but don't be too jealous, replied James, smirking slightly. How'd you like a best friend who thinks the ability to give others heart attacks and nervous breakdowns is a sign of his comedic genius? Not to mention a constitutional right, for that matter.
True enough, Peter acquiesced, laughing along with James. So what do you think my odds are at getting back my money today?
I'd say they've improved significantly, especially if you choose to take back your money by force, said James, while Peter raised his eyebrows, interest piqued. I say this because our mutual friend is currently upstairs in the guest room, looking and probably feeling like death warmed over.
Sirius is sick? Peter gaped, shocked and not entirely convinced. James nodded gleefully.
Yes, he is! Isn't it great? He's helpless, absolutely defenseless, and in my house on top of that! James sighed, in the throes of pure bliss. Just think of the possibilities...
James! He's sick, admonished Peter. At least wait till he's recuperated somewhat!
James' look turned sour almost immediately, and Peter tried hard not to look crushed.
Damnit, Peter, why'd you have to choose now of all times to become moralistic? he pouted. Morals are relative anyways...
Peter didn't get a chance to reply, as Lily was calling for them to come back inside in a voice that allowed no room for arguments. Manly independence temporarily disregarded, they trotted into the house immediately.
Once in the kitchen, Lily tossed a bundle of fabric in Peter's general direction, which he barely caught. Upon disentangling it, he saw that it was an apron. Peter couldn't help but look confused.
It's an apron, Lily stated, while James made a phenomenal effort in not interrupting with a sarcastic comment. You're going to be helping me out around the house.
I am? But why? Peter asked, finding the idea a hard one to warm up to. James also looked at his wife in confusion.
Because if I made James do it, not only would he complain the whole time, but he'd find a way to do irreparable damage to the house.
James watched this conversation unfold with growing anger. Lily, his own wife, was practically saying that he was inept! He was so not inept - he just wasn't the house-cleaning type. She'd regret ever saying that when he-
James, stop plotting. Peter, I assume you know about Sirius being indisposed? Lily questioned. James huffed and lapsed into silence.
Yes, I heard about that misfortune, Peter said. Believe me, I'd love to help out, but...
Work keeping you busy, right? supplied Lily. Peter shook his head quickly.
No, I'm only on call right now. And besides, I don't officially have a job for a few weeks yet, what with bureaucracy and whatnot.
Then that's perfect! And you can even help me with my Spanish - I need someone to practice on. Here, she said, lifting Harry out of his highchair. you can look after Harry for m-
Ah, I don't think that's the best idea, Peter remarked nervously, backing up slightly. I don't exactly have the best track record with living things...
Oh, don't be ridiculous, laughed Lily. I can't keep plants alive either! A baby's different, don't worry.
But what about James? Peter began, but Lily cut him off.
James will be busy for the next little while, she explained, waiting for James to join in, which he didn't do, as he was busy keeping his peeved silence. Well, he is. Remus can help you out when he gets back, how's that? Without waiting for an answer, Lily deposited Harry in Peter's arms with an air of finality.
Now, just keep him happy for a few seconds, she instructed, while I go check and see if Sirius is still alive.
And with that, she slipped out of the room, leaving Peter with a squirming baby in his arms.
James, this is not good. Please tell me you're not going anywhere, Peter begged, panic edging into his voice.
Sorry, mate. I promised Lily I'd occupy myself until Sirius is healthy, or until she trusts me not to prank him into oblivion, stated James, completely unhurt by the harsh precautions Lily had taken against him. And seeing as though I'll never trust myself not to prank Sirius, I doubt Lily ever will either... Oh, and good luck with Harry, he added as he made his way to the front door.
Peter sputtered for a few seconds after the door had closed behind James, not wanting to believe his current situation. Sighing, he came to a solid conclusion. It was all Sirius' damn fault.
*1975 - Fourth Year*
Remus winced as he observed Sirius from over the top of his glass of orange juice. The latter was engaged in shoveling vast quantities of stolen quiche into his mouth while chatting animatedly at Peter, who had not yet noticed that it was his quiche that Sirius had borrowed indefinitely. This was a true act of mercy on some deity's part, because Remus knew that the instant Peter reacted to this gastronomic burglary, Sirius would be off and running, caught up in the delights of his successful felony.
Normally, this wouldn't be so bad, seeing as though James had the uncanny ability to control Sirius, something Remus and Peter valued immeasurably. Unfortunately, James was currently explaining to Professor Sprout why he'd felt the need to cultivate venom-spitting mushrooms on Sirius' textbook. This was an act that Sirius had found to be hilarious beyond all reason, although, sadly, their professor had not shared his opinion. Remus had been sure that she would have reprimanded Sirius as well as James, but Sirius' expression of surprise (which had metamorphosed rather quickly and suspiciously into one of delight) had been so genuine that it was rather obvious he had not been in on James' plan. Thus he was able to eat lunch with Remus and Peter. Thus Remus was on pins and needles.
Sirius was just devouring the last piece of quiche when he paused suddenly. His eyes were on Peter's salad bowl, so, appropriately, Remus readied himself for the intervention he would have to make in order to prevent Sirius from stealing all of Peter's lunch. But Sirius made no such move, instead turning to an indignant-looking Peter (he'd just now realized his quiche had been purloined) and announced:
Peter, your lettuce is moving.
As one, Peter and Remus swiveled their heads to stare at the salad, which was, in fact, moving. Remus instinctively leaned back, fully prepared to duck and cover. Sirius withdrew his wand, and the wicked gleam in his eyes told Remus that he was about to blast Peter's salad to kingdom come.
Oh, thanks Sirius! You found P.M.! Peter exclaimed jubilantly, plucking what could only be described as a green thing out of the lettuce. Remus, satisfied that this wasn't one of those lunches that put all their lives at risk, resumed his normal posture. He peered at the green thing Peter was holding, scientific interest taking over as Remus attempted to identify further. Sirius, however, beat him to it.
Holy shit, Pete - is that a scorpion? he inquired loudly, so that the entire Great Hall could hear him. Peter blinked in confusion, while Remus focused on the very pleasant mental image of Sirius' head being slammed onto the table repeatedly.
Sirius, do you ever think what you're about to say before you say it, or is it just some sort of free-for-all in that head of yours? the werewolf asked, looking at Sirius with the same expression you bestow upon a five-year-old who's just shoved rocks up their nose.
I try not to think, responded Sirius, gleefully helping himself to a blueberry muffin, and besides, I find my randomness entertaining.
Entertaining isn't the word I'd pick, but never mind, Remus sighed, propping his chin up with his hand and trying to ignore the stares the other students were giving them. Now, let's think: would Peter have picked it up if it was a scorpion? Take a minute for this one, it might be a challenge.
Sirius solemnly assessed a snickering Peter for a moment before shrugging and returning to his muffin. Remus groaned, and Peter let his green thing walk on the table. Remus was about to ask what it was, but was interrupted by the sight of James, who was jogging over to their table, face alight with interest.
Oi, what's this I hear about Peter having a scorpion in his salad? he asked once he'd reached them. James shoved Sirius aside unceremoniously to make room on the bench. Sirius, intent on his blueberry muffin, gave James a half-hearted smack to the head in retaliation. So is it true, Pete?
Well, let's just start by saying it was Sirius who called it a scorpion, Remus began, stopping momentarily to glare at an oblivious Sirius. So that pretty much destroys all credibility the rumour had in the first place.
James nodded sagely, and Sirius finally swallowed his muffin.
All right, fine - maybe it's not a scorpion, Sirius conceded, and everyone gave the green thing a thorough look. James started to laugh.
Sirius, I don't know what sort of scorpions you've seen, but this... he dissolved into giggles, ignoring his best friend's murderous look. Remus had to agree with James - unless Sirius was referring to mutated space scorpions, Peter's was most definitely not a scorpion.
What sort of name is anyways, Sirius stated, fixing Peter with a hard look that clearly blamed the short boy for all his lost dignity. I mean, you might as well get another one and call it , then your collection of crappily named green things will be complete...
It's a praying mantis! Remus blurted out suddenly. Peter grinned, nodding appreciatively. I might also add that praying mantises are in no way related to scorpions, Mr. Black.
So I guess that stands for Praying Mantis, then huh? James noted dryly. Original, Pete - your pet's named for its species' acronym.
Peter blushed profusely, shaking his head shyly.
Actually, it stands for Prantis Mantis he supplied softly, looking at the table. James and Remus exchanged confused looks, while Sirius clapped Peter heartily on the back, laughing uproariously.
Prantis Mantis...oh, beautiful! See, Pete here gets it! Randomness is a glorious thing, I tell you! he exclaimed between bouts of laughter. Peter looked half-relieved, half-horrified.
Don't worry, Peter - as long as there's a filter between what you think and what you say, you'll never turn into Sirius, Remus pacified, correctly identifying Peter's angst.
And I, for one, am never going to call the origins of P.M.'s name into question, James stated firmly. There are some things I'm just better off not knowing.
By this point, their dynamic conversation had begun to attract a bit of a crowd, so the unanimous decision was made to spend the rest of lunch outdoors, P.M. and all.
Once they were comfortably settled down by the lake, P.M. was let loose in the grass, where the insect chose to perch completely still for extended periods of time, slowly reaching out a bent foreleg every so often.
Gentlemen, I believe I've seen enough, Sirius announced theatrically after they'd observed the mantid for a few minutes. P.M. is officially the most brilliant pet I have ever seen. Well, the most brilliant pet minus those... things, that do that... thing... You know the ones, he finished lamely.
Uh, we don't, but sure. Anyways, what I'd like to know is where, when and how did you get him? James asked Peter, who was positively beaming at all the attention. Not to mention why - most brilliant pet status aside, that is.
Well, remember yesterday in detention-
Which detention? Sirius interrupted, bringing up a valid point.
Potions, for burning a hole in the floor.
Oh, yeah...
How soon they forget, Remus intoned sarcastically, clearly still bitter for receiving a detention despite having had nothing to do with the incineration of the floor.
Peter continued, trying to win back his audience, while I was sitting there wishing Professor Hayes hadn't split us up, I noticed she had a bunch of praying mantises in a jar sitting on her desk.
Wait a tick, how'd you know they were praying mantises, and not, say, scorpions pretending to be praying mantises? Sirius inquired, a conspiratory look on his face. James heaved a sigh before facing Sirius squarely.
You're just determined to interrupt poor Peter's story, aren't you? he admonished. Peter knows they weren't scorpions pretending to be praying mantises because he's not a... unique thinker, like you are.
That's a way of putting it...
Remus, please! Can your bitterness not infiltrate everything concerning Sirius?
Sorry, James - but you can't say my hostility is without reason. Please continue, Peter. My apologies.
That's all right. As I was saying, I noticed some praying mantises in a jar. Well, the thing with praying mantises, and most predators really, is that if you leave them in an enclosed space together, they'll start to eat each other.
Um, yeah, Sirius, really, Peter certified, regaining his train of thought after a moment. Then I told Professor Hayes that they'd start to eat each other, but she said she didn't care because she was going to boil them the next day, that's today, anyways.
Not really, Sirius, but whatever. Well, I didn't want to cause any problems, so I didn't say anything and just assumed the mantids were going to die of either cannibalism or boiling, which was sad. But this morning, Professor Hayes came up to me with P.M.! The other praying mantises had started to eat other, which I knew they would, but get this. They all got sick and died! P.M.'s the only one that survived, presumably because he didn't eat any of the other mantids. Professor Hayes thought P.M. was diseased, too, so she couldn't boil him for a potion. So because I seemed to know something about praying mantises, she gave him to me.
Sirius, Remus and James digested this information for a few moments.
So now you have your very own diseased, cannibalistically-inclined praying mantis. Bully for you, Sirius snorted.
Not cannibalistic - he was the only one that didn't try to eat the others, remember? Peter reminded him, frowning lightly.
That's cause he's not man enough.
He's an insect, Sirius, James pointed out, but Sirius waved him off uncaringly.
Details, details.
Speaking of details, interjected Remus, I've found an interesting tidbit regarding the latest folly you three are dragging me into that I'd like to impart upon you all.
Is he referring to Project A-Team, Peter asked Sirius and James, referring to their current goal of becoming Animagi, or something you haven't told me about yet?
He said you three', not the senseless idiots', Pete. He's obviously referring to Project A-Team, not to me and Siri, James replied, Sirius nodding in full agreement before turning back to his lycanthropic friend.
Well, don't keep us waiting, Remmy! Impart away! Remus smiled in a very Mona Lisa-like way, and his friends leaned in closer in anticipation.
Whilst I was poring over the latest in the series of increasingly boring and complicated books concerning the animagus transformation, I came upon some new and shocking information. Apparently, the animal which one becomes depends on the witch or wizard's personality, and is not, as we were previously inclined to think, their decision to make.
Aw, damn! Sirius swore vehemently, this new revelation having very clearly popped his bubble. I was so going to be a praying mantis!
Yes, because that would have been so helpful in containing a werewolf, retorted James dryly. Sirius blinked vacantly for a few seconds.
Wait - what if that happens? he said.
What, you becoming a praying mantis? Not likely - see how motionless and silent P.M. is? Remus remarked coyly. Sirius shook his head, completely solemn.
No, I mean, what if we become moths or something equally helpless? What if we're all puny, ineffective invertebrates? Then Project A-Team would turn out to be utterly useless, unless werewolves happen to have microphobia*!
Bloody hell, you're right! And you're saying there's no way we can rig this, Remus? James asked desperately. Peter and Sirius looked hopefully at Remus, who only shook his head sadly in response.
I know it's a bit of a bombshell right now, but I have a feeling it'll work out okay, the werewolf reassured his companions. As long as one of you three becomes something big, it'll be fine. And being small does have its uses, you know.
That's true, Peter agreed. Just look at P.M.! Sure he's tiny, but praying mantises are amazing predators - watch.
Sure enough, P.M. was slowly stalking a nearby beetle. The mantid crept forward at a glacial pace, when suddenly he struck, crunching the beetle between his forelegs. P.M. then began to methodically rip the beetle's head off, devouring it at a rapid pace. The four teens found this display of invertebrate brutality to be endlessly fascinating.
Absolutely right, Peter. No one would call P.M. helpless, now would they? Remus grinned. Sirius tore his eyes away from the gruesome spectacle that was P.M. feasting in order to respond.
Totally! And as long as I'm not a crane fly, it's all good with me.
A crane fly? questioned James, one eyebrow piqued.
Yes, a crane fly! Have you any idea of how useless they are? When they're larvae, they destroy grass by feeding off the roots. When they're full-grown, they don't eat anything and nothing eats them. They just sit there and flitter about disgustingly whenever you disturb them. If that's their place in the circle of life, well, that's just sad, Sirius stated, apparently having given a great deal of thought to this topic. James and Remus laughed, but Peter appeared distraught.
That's exactly the sort of animal I'll turn out to be - a crane fly, or a larva of some sort... he sighed despondently. Sirius, however, only smiled.
So? No one would ever notice you then - think about how much stuff you could get away with if you were small like that! Sirius' eyes lit up at the very thought. Peter looked somewhat comforted, until Sirius added: Unless, of course, you were some exotic animal that everyone would notice.
Peter's face sank, and he began to visualize himself as a rare plumed crane fly.
Speaking of paying attention, James spoke up, eager to change the conversation topic. He didn't get any further, as he was interrupted by Sirius' elated look, which Remus quickly smothered:
Sirius, if you say that you can't afford to pay attention one more time in my life, I swear I'm going to chuck you headfirst from the Astronomy Tower.
Moving on... James smirked. You know who we haven't seen lately? He waited for the chorus of s that soon followed. Snivellus, that's who.
Too true, Jamesiekins! Sirius exclaimed, leaping to his feet and nearly squashing P.M. in the process. Let us away!
But what will I do with P.M.? Peter shouted after Sirius and James, who were racing back to the castle at a frantic pace. Remus was leisurely removing the grass from his t-shirt, taking his sweet time.
Bring him with you! James shouted back over his shoulder. Sirius spun around quickly, jogging backwards a little in order to keep moving.
Yeah, maybe we can sic him on Snape! he laughed, giving Remus and Peter a quick wave before turning around and catching up to James.
Are you coming, Remus? Peter asked, picking up his well-fed praying mantis. Remus wore the look of trepidation and discomfort he usually adopted whenever James and Sirius (who were always flanked by a worshiping Peter) decided to antagonize Snape.
I suppose, he replied dully, attempting a half-hearted grin. They're not as bad as they used to be, Sirius and James I mean...
Yeah, it's much better, lied Peter. He didn't quite understand why Remus was so uncomfortable with their other two friends' teasing of Snape, but he was sympathetic all the same. It was Peter's opinion that Snape deserved whatever ill treatment he got, partially because that was Sirius and James' theory and partially because Peter had always been a little afraid of Snape himself.
By the time Remus and Peter arrived at the scene of the crime, an empty corridor in this case, significant damage had already occurred.
Snape seemed to be in a fighting mood, as James' fingers had been hexed together by a pulsating, red-tinted substance, which effectively rendered him unable to hold his wand. Remus noted, with the kind of academic detachment so typical to him, that gluing someone's fingers together was truly a brilliant defensive maneuver. As it was, he was horrified that the situation was deteriorating so rapidly, at a rate Remus was most unable to stop.
Wow, Sirius! Look what Snivellus has done today - why, I think I might be unable to use my wand in this condition! James said, his tone dripping with false terror. Sirius grinned in a feral way, stepping forward infinitesimally and subtly shifting to the offensive.
Gosh, it appears you're right! Whatever shall we do, wondered a wide-eyed Sirius. He blinked, and the look disappeared, replaced with one of mocking condescension. Or at least, that's what I'd be wondering if I was eight years old! Honestly, Snivellus, he berated, flicking his wand and liberating James' fingers from the adhesive material, you could at least use spells we haven't seen before, you know, make it less boring for us?
I concur wholeheartedly, James piped up, rubbing his hands together a little. Now, would you mind giving me back my wand?
Remus started, looking sharply at Snape, who was indeed holding James' wand. Not good, thought Remus, not good at all.
What do you take me for, Potter? Please, enlighten me - I do take pleasure dissecting the minds of idiots, Snape tossed back. And you can drop the bravado, too - we both know it's an act.
What bravado, snorted Sirius. James raised an eyebrow and stuck his hands in his pockets, showing that he felt this exchange might take awhile. Snape sneered in response, cocking his head slightly to consider Peter, who was observing P.M., who was perched on his forearm.
Oh, look - if it isn't little Pettigrew, he taunted, rewarded when Peter looked up with a anxious expression on his face. Finally found a friend of your own worth, have you?
Sirius' glare intensified, and he took several strides forward to stand in front of Peter. James watched, a wary look on his face, and he and Remus exchanged glances of equal concern.
Back off, Sirius growled protectively, as Peter gazed at his back with gratitude. Snape gave Sirius a very ugly look, and James wished he had his wand.
Get over yourself, Black, snarled Snape, violently pushing Sirius aside before the latter could react. Sirius stumbled backwards a step before regaining his footing, murder in his eyes.
Peter, meanwhile, was noticing that there was no longer anything between his person and Severus Snape. Desperately, he groped for his wand. Not finding it soon enough, he produced the next best thing.
Whoa, Pete! James exclaimed in the background, P.M. may be a predator, but Snape's not a beetle!
But it was too late. P.M. had already been flung.
What the-?! was all Snape had time to say before an overlarge green thing landed on his hooked nose, clinging for dear life.
James wanted so very much to react, but what exactly is the proper procedure for when your friend's pet is attacking your arch enemy's nose, especially when you're on the ground laughing uncontrollably along with your other two friends?
Snape's reaction was less mirthful. The moment he overcame his initial shock, he wrenched P.M. from his face and threw the mantid bodily against the nearest wall.
It seemed to take P.M. an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he smeared off the wall. Peter saw the look of mingled neutrality and blankness on his pet's yellow**, once green, face as he fell to the ground.
Peter heard Snape's triumphant girly scream, but knew it meant nothing - P.M. had only hit the only hit the wall at high speed, he would revive any second...
But P.M. did not move.
Peter yelled.
He fell to the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps. P.M. had just hit the wall, he, Peter, would revive him...
But as he reached the area where P.M. lay, Sirius grabbed Peter around the chest, holding him back.
There's nothing you can do, Peter-
Get him, save him, he's only just been squashed!
-it's too late, Peter.
We can still save him- Peter struggled hard and viciously, but Sirius would not let go...
There's nothing you can do, Peter... nothing... he's gone. ~*~
It was an angst-filled moment, ruined only by James and Remus' hysterical laughter. Sirius was appalled.
You two are so callous! Someone's died! P.M. will be no more, you prats! he said fiercely, pausing a while in hopes that his words would sink in. They didn't. Oh, come on! Dead! D-E-A-D! You wouldn't laugh like that if I died!
Yeah, well, began James, that depends. If you died like that, then yes. Yes, we would. Because that's damn funny. Like getting hit by a nappy truck!
Peter just sat there, staring at P.M. in a grieving silence. Snape moved towards where Peter's sad figure slumped, and for a wild moment, Remus thought the greasy-haired teen was going to comfort Peter.
His hopes were dashed when Snape's foot reached out and stomped on P.M.'s already deceased and mangled form, grinding it into the stone floor.
Snape stated simply, before removing his foot and stalking off towards a grassy patch outside, where he proceeded to wipe P.M.'s mortal remains from his shoe.
In that instant, Remus knew there would never be peace between the two camps. Ever.
James said, addressing his friends, when are we gonna avenge P.M.'s oh-so tragic death?
I request no retaliation, in honour of P.M.'s pacifistic ways, stated Peter simply from his position on the floor. I just wasn't meant for keeping things alive...
P.M. wasn't pacifistic - we watched him disembowel a beetle, Sirius protested, a bit confused. Peter faced him with a withering glare.
He's my dead praying mantis, and I'll have whatever fond memories of him as I so choose, thank you very much! Peter snapped. And besides, it's your fault P.M. died - you told me to throw him at Snape!
I was fricken joking, dumb one! You should never listen to me anyways!
Peter knew this was true and returned to staring at P.M.'s mutilated corpse. Never again would he love a mantid...
*end flashback*
Much to Peter's astonishment, he managed to keep Harry alive and in good health until Lily came back downstairs, frowning and muttering worriedly under her breath.
Well, he's alive and stable, Lily announced in a would-be light tone of voice. Although I've never seen anyone get that sick that fast before...
Think of it this way, Peter offered, passing Harry back to his mother, Sirius hasn't been truly, horribly, my-eyelids-hurt sick in all the years I've known him - all the sicknesses in the world have simply caught up to him, is all.
I suppose... she grimaced, not much comforted. Lily suddenly smiled as she looked down at her three month old son. In better medical news, Harry seems to have survived just fine without being under my supervision - congrats.
Peter gulped, almost wishing something horrible had happened just so he wouldn't have to babysit again.
Right then - I'm going out for a bit, Lily told him, bouncing Harry on her hip a little. I have to pick up the Spanish workbooks I ordered.
Peter wondered, thinking she had been joking earlier when she'd expressed a desire to practice her Spanish on him.
Yes, I decided last night that I'm going to learn at least one second language - it'll give me something to do. I called a bunch of bookstores yesterday evening regarding language instruction books, and most people were under the impression that Spanish is the easiest language to learn, she explained, transferring Harry back to a now-resigned looking Peter. So I put some material on hold, and I'm picking it up today.
I see. Heading to Diagon Alley, then? Or at least London, Peter guessed, but Lily shook her head amusedly.
No and no again, Peter. I'm out to see if my inter-continental apparation skills are up to par.
You're kidding- gaped Peter. Lily winked, nodding gamely.
Yep, I'm off to Mexico!
Why not Spain? Peter was almost afraid to ask.
Because that'd be too easy, she replied easily, without a moment's hesitation.
...Of course...
Well, see you later! That is, if I don't splinch myself... Wish me luck!
Peter gave a feeble good luck' as Lily let herself out (Harry blew a spit bubble in honour of the occasion). Peter wondered where the hell Remus was as he sat down in the kitchen after seating Harry in his highchair and brewing himself a very strong cup of coffee.
Thankfully, Remus turned up only minutes after Lily had made her Mexico-bound departure, and Peter was no longer solely in charge.
Remus listened patiently to Peter's play-by-play of all the events that had taken place after the werewolf had left, and was more than sympathetic to Peter's situation.
But you know, Wormtail, Harry isn't like a plant - Lily was right about that part, Remus soothed as Peter got to the end of his story.
Oh, I was more thinking along the lines of a certain green, acronym-named creature... the Animagus brooded, that death still clearly hanging over his head. Remus suppressed his laughter, taking a sip of his coffee.
Now that I understand... Hey, where did you say James went? asked Remus, curious as to what the man could be up to.
No clue, Peter responded, giving a nondescript shrug.
Do you know when he'll be ba-
SLAM!
Ah, never mind, Remus finished neatly, and the duo listened as the enthusiastic stomping sounds that could only belong to James floated in from the foyer. James himself appeared in the kitchen seconds later, face red with anger.
Can you believe those buggers?! he fumed, dropping himself into the chair next to Harry's highchair. Peter and Remus exchanged looks.
And those buggers you speak of, who would they be? inquired Remus with the utmost delicacy. James' eyes narrowed, and he looked the very picture of absolute rage.
Those buggers would be those damn uppity members of the London Yacht Club, those fuc-
The London Yacht Club? Peter interrupted. Why would you know members of the London Yacht Club?
Because I joined the goddamn club, James sputtered frustratedly. For a good fifteen minutes, I was a member myself, but noooo! James Potter isn't good enough to be a part of the London Yacht Club, apparently, he extrapolated, ample doses of bitterness and sarcasm punctuating his words.
said Remus quietly, with the air of one trying to avoid a bespectacled, messy-haired landmine, you don't own a yacht.
Well, thank you, Captain Obvious! James fairly exploded, completely forgetting the fact that there was a baby in the room. Fortunately, Harry looked just as apprehensive as Remus and Peter, keeping completely silent. I was like, Hi, I'm James Potter and I'm a new member of the London Yacht Club!' and they're like, Well, hallo there, James! And what model do you own?' and I was like, Silly Londoners, I have no such thing!' and they're like, You don't have a yacht?' and I'm like, Not even a toy one.' and they're like, You can't be a part of this club unless you're a yacht owner!' and I'm like, Stop oppressing me, you snobs! I can be in a yacht club if it happens to makes me happy, damnit!' and they're like, What are you, stupid?' and I'm like, Cheh, kind of!' and they're like, Get out!' and I'm like, Make me, starchfaces!' and they're like, SECURITY!' and I'm like, Wow, I'm so out of here!'. And, uh, that's more or less what happened.
Harry started to cry, and Peter didn't blame him - he'd cry too if his father was an idiot of colossal proportions.
It frightens me that you actually walk the streets, Remus stated finally, while James attempted to pacify his child.
Yes, well, shut up!
I'm just saying...
But at after that point, conversation became impossible, as Harry was now wailing at roughly the noise level of a jet engine. James eventually had to cart him out of the room, wearing a very pained expression whilst the baby blew out his eardrums. He returned a few moments later, without Harry, whose muffled screaming could still be heard from upstairs.
Meh, let Sirius deal with him... explained James distractedly as he reached for the coffee maker. Peter looked up, surprised.
Sirius is awake? he asked, thinking that that revelation rather defied Lily's earlier prognosis of Sirius being very ill. James smirked, a devillish look in his eye.
Oh, not yet - but he will be soon!
Remus and Peter groaned collectively.
James, you can't leave a three-month-old baby in the care of a man who's barely conscious and practically dying! Remus fairly whined, Peter nodding in frantic agreement beside him. For God's sake, Sirius could infect Harry! ... Mind you, I'd like to see the guilt trip he'd go through over that one...
James sighed, upset that his brilliant plan had been foiled so quickly. He stood up, prepared to retrieve his son, when the sound of Sirius screaming came from upstairs in unison to Harry's howling. James did some imaginative cursing before heading upstairs at high speed.
Dear God, he's probably realized his hair didn't get washed last night...
Once more, Peter and Remus were left alone in the kitchen. Deciding that the room had bad vibes, they migrated to the family room. Remus brought in a bag he had left in the foyer, pulling out a tape which he waved entrancingly in front of Peter, who knew not the danger inherent, poor man.
And so, the duo settled in to watch Remus' much-needed happy movie, which may or may not be a good thing.
* * *
* Microphobia: the fear of small things. There, you have learned something. Write home and tell your folks.
** This comment comes from my (demi)beta, who so pleasantly informed me that bugs' insides are yellow, you know. Well, no, I didn't know, but now I do. And now a whole population of fic readers do, too. Thanks, Kayla, and good luck on winning the Nobel Prize for that revelation...
~*~ Akurei does not pass go, does not collect a hundred dollars, but goes straight to hell. You'll never look at OotP the same way again (this may be a good thing). If anyone feels horribly violated, that was the point. If anyone feels I've blasphemized OotP and Sirius' death beyond all recognition, that was the other point. Somebody had to do it. For my real, non-heretic thoughts on OotP and Padfoot's untimely passing, read my LJ. There's a rant in there somewhere...
Final-fricken-ly! I thought I'd never finish this chapter - the beginning of school has sapped the lifeblood out of me, I tell you.
I hate to tell you guys, but my chapter updates may become monthly affairs, like I feared. Thankfully, I often post chapter snippets up on my Livejournal (you'll find a bit of this chapter there, actually, but no one noticed!), so if you really can't wait, I will supply my faithful readers with teasers. Of course, I do recommend waiting until the entire chapter is posted, for sheer continuity purposes. But it is interesting to see stuff in its unpolished format, isn't it?
Speaking of unpolished... IS ANYONE INTERESTED IN BETA-ING ME? I do, as you may have noticed, have a beta, who is my close-personal-muchloved-friend Kayla, who goes under the penname of Alexandrea-Riddle. However, I came to the realization that I need an unbiased, objective editor - someone who'll spot my grammar errors and tell me when things aren't working or making sense.
If that's you, e-mail me [akurei_mossgreenbrown@hotmail.com] or drop me a review (or a comment: www.livejournal.com/~super_drive). Tell me a bit about your writing/beta-ing history as well as yourself personally. Also, it'd be nice if you could test beta one of SaaD's chapters (one of your choice) so to show me your abilities. I actually don't expect anyone to take me up on this, but consider it: you get to read chapters before ANYONE ELSE. And you'd earn my undying gratitude. ^_~
Reviews:
im not alive: I adore exclamation points!!!! Thank you muchly! SilverWolf: Ooh, literary device. Yes, the puns. They are beautiful. And, judging from the increasingly weighty page count for each chapter, it's starting to look like a saga to me, too. ^ ^; Thanx!
Ephemeron: Hey, you picked up on that! I didn't know it was called purple-patching - I learnt something new! It was the product of having to write a personals ad for English class - no, you don't want to know. Thanks ever so for putting me on your faves list! I get such a warm fuzzy glow from that... Sorry, a scintillating glow. ^_~
Senshichan14: SWEET! I get CANDY! *squeals* The song parodies are an undecided issue, but they'll never become a priority over SaaD, so no worries there. This fic is my baby, and no one, not even my Biology 12 homework, will take it away from me! Big thanks, and do take some candy for yourself! Signed
Cristin: This review brings a smile to my face every time I read it - that means so much to me, seeing as though this fic was born out of my determination to add to the tiny list of good HP fanfics. It seems that I've made that list after all! *beams* Mais oui, Remus shall get his happy movie - though maybe not one you'd expect... Thank you for the lovely review! Anonymous
sirius the homicidal maniac: Wow, what a penname! Actually, I did come up with a title (although a good conspiracy never hurt anyone, eh?). I always post my titles in the actual text - you'll find it right below the top author's comments. About the song parodies, read my response to Senshichan14. In terms of keeping you occupied, check my LJ for chapter snippets, as I've said above. I haven't found out what my loyal, devoted, obsessive fans do, exactly, yet. I'm kind of hoping I don't have to. Muchas gracias for losing sleep in order to review - why can't all readers be like you?!
_eep: Yeep! So sorry for ever doubting you - especially when I'm on your browser favorites list, of all places! I didn't think length would be an issue, no. ^_^ Thanks again!
S-A: Oh, I do write lots - mostly when I don't have the time. This is my first fully developped fanfic, though. Not to say I haven't won a few accolades writing real fiction... *insert gloating here* I expect to entertain you lots more, particularly since I've gotten glowing reviews like this one! Thank you! This is certainly not my last appearance in the HP fandom. I don't want to jump the gun, but I think I can tell you a secret: I'm thinking of writing a sequel. Ssh!
ltnikki: I would tend to agree with you completely - thank you for your honesty. Hope this new chapter is up to your expectations!
c.g.: Excellent, more people that aren't clueless about languages! It translates more to Me the love you, as Veridian Magpie was so clever to point out. On the topic of Remus' happy movie, I love your argument in favor of it. It's so...articulate! (Actually, this review sounds like one I would write..o_O) Don't worry, I prefer insane to sane any day of the week! Thanx! Anonymous
sailoranime: Yes, drywall. Just accept - it's easier. Sirius will get better...in time. ^_~ Yeah, my lack of direction with the whole Petunia-thing really shows, and I'm well aware. I think I had ideas of giving her a hilarious exit, but that kind of fizzled in a big way. Of course something happens at the video store - how could it not? This is James we're talking about, after all - someone nearly as insane as Padfoot, all things considered. The chapter title is in the text - see my response to sirius the homicidal maniac. Anonymous
BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE!
sailoranime has nominated me for the Harry Potter Fanfiction Awards () in the Best James Potter Era (In Progress) category. So if you like this fic, be sure to vote for me by September 20th if you want an award for your darling Akurei! I don't expect to win a damn thing, but support is beautiful! And go email sailoranime to tell her she's a wonderful person for bestowing this great honour upon me. YAY! I'm on a huge high because of this, just so you know! ^_^
NEXT TIME: According to Remus, hippies never go out of style. According to Sirius, Remus' John Lennon glasses are going to be his within the hour. Pull up a chair, it's Beatlemania 101! Just don't tell Remus he's a decade late.