A/N: I know the review system isn't working at the moment, so I'm going to
give you another chapter anyway, so aren't you lucky? I still want you to
keep trying though, cos reviews give you a boost, the surest way of solving
writers block that I know. Anyway, enjoy!
It was during that Easter holidays that the serious revision for the end of year exams. Harry and his friends were only in sixth year, so naturally they weren't sitting what the teachers might have described as major exams, but with Lily and Remus encouraging them - or rather standing over them with whips - the Marauders found themselves working much harder than was comfortable.
Harry was doing Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions and Care of Magical Creatures for his NEWT courses, so he had plenty, ie. far too much, revision to do.
Potions, as Harry was beginning to discover, was actually quite interesting, a whole mix match of Herbology, Charms and general Potions. This was probably because this teacher didn't hate his guts like Professor Snape and wasn't constantly aiming to humiliate him. The teacher seemed to like Harry, after all he was quieter than most and more dedicated to his studies. Many of the teachers had noticed his silent determination to cram as much practical knowledge into his head as possible, and independently determined not to mention it. If he had things in his past that were so bad that they had this effect on him, they were certainly not going to re- open old wounds by making him talk about it.
As for his other subjects, well, he was very confident in Defense Against the Dark Arts, he always had been and his training the previous summer had definitely paid off. All of the others, however, were going to take a lot of very serious revision if he wanted to do well.
The whole school had taken on a strange, almost unknown atmosphere of stress and intense, almost desperate concentration. Three Gryffindor fifth years had broken down already under the pressure and so had two seventh years. The casualties were rumored to be even worse in Ravenclaw, where academic achievement was that much more important. Those were the two main exam years, of course, so there was a lot more pressure involved. Even the first years seemed to be working, a totally new development for everyone, and one that the teachers were taking advantage of while it lasted.
A couple of weeks into the summer term, mind reeling with the different potions he had to memorize, Harry threw his textbook across their dormitory, his notes following immediately afterwards and wafting all over the room. The others looked at him in surprise, for Harry to make such an outburst was unknown - it was usually Sirius that gave up, his active mind and body making him incapable of sitting still for any long period of time.
"I'm sick of this!" he exclaimed, exasperated. "We don't do anything fun any more, just work, work, work from breakfast until we go to bed. There's not even Quidditch at the moment!"
James nodded in understanding, very glad that someone else had voiced his feelings first so that he wouldn't have to take any blame for it.
"I don't think one evening off revision will make so much difference," he allowed. "After all, you can't concentrate if you try too much. It will do everyone good to laugh for once. Too many people are gloomy at the moment and its making everyone even worse!"
"I have an idea," Remus told them, putting down his Charms notes and looking over at them.
"What?" Sirius asked incredulously, always ready to tease his quieter friend. "The Perfect Prefect, Good Boy of the Marauders, making up pranks! Really, what is the world coming to? What would Dumbledore think?" Remus ignored him and explained, going over every part in minute detail. Gradually, the others began to see what he was getting at. They spent the rest of the evening practicing the charm that he'd adapted from his notes on the spot until all of them, even Peter, could do it perfectly all the time.
They had Potions first lesson the next morning, and even though it came first period and they couldn't have a lie in, they were all looking forward to it.
"In today's lesson," the Potions master began in his careful, precise voice, "You are making a Laughing Potion, that is page sixty three in your textbook. All the ingredients you will need are laid out on the front desk so that you can take them as you need them. This could easily come up in your exam, so I would advise you to take particular care in this class."
The class, consisting of about ten people, opened their textbooks and began, all diligently striving to be perfect and knock another thing off their revision lists. As soon as the Slytherins looked down, James nodded significantly and flicked his wand under the table. Nothing appeared to happen. The class continued working steadily down their lists without incident - there wasn't much that could go wrong with this particular potion, and they were a NEWT class, after all.
Snape raised his hand, and a number of people turned to look at him. Know- it-all Snape, the Potions genius. This might actually be useful for them.
"I'm sorry Professor, but would it be possible for me to have some slugs please? I don't think the others are as advanced as me in the list, but there don't appear to be any on the front desk sir, I did check for them."
The teacher frowned at him suspiciously. Surely Snape wouldn't be trying to play up his class?
"Who else will require slugs?"
The three Slytherins all raised their hands, checking their lists and looking confident. The teacher's eyes narrowed skeptically. Harry looked around at them innocently, pretending to be surprised at their inquiry.
"Severus, may I see your book?"
"Of course Professor."
Snape handed it to him unsuspectingly. The teacher smiled maliciously, as though he'd just been proved right.
"There is nothing on this list remotely resembling slugs. Fifteen points from Slytherin for wasting my time and trying to destroy the potions. As you at least should know, adding slugs to this potion would give you a Pepper Up potion, it could have hazardous effects if taken in the wrong quantities. Detention for you, Mr Snape, for putting this harmful prank into practice. I had thought that only the Gryffindors were immature enough to try to play jokes in lessons, but I must have been mistaken."
"But Professor!" Sirius protested earnestly. "We haven't disrupted a lesson since third year! How could you think such a thing? Its so juvenile!"
"Hmph," said the teacher doubtfully. "Don't interrupt, Mr Black. Kindly continue with your work, everyone."
Snape glared at the Marauders. He had no problems at all in assigning the blame where it was due, especially with their smug expressions.
"You'll pay for that!" he mouthed. Harry grinned at him, totally unconcerned by his meaningless threats. He wouldn't dare do anything else in Potions at the risk of losing even more points.
It was during that Easter holidays that the serious revision for the end of year exams. Harry and his friends were only in sixth year, so naturally they weren't sitting what the teachers might have described as major exams, but with Lily and Remus encouraging them - or rather standing over them with whips - the Marauders found themselves working much harder than was comfortable.
Harry was doing Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions and Care of Magical Creatures for his NEWT courses, so he had plenty, ie. far too much, revision to do.
Potions, as Harry was beginning to discover, was actually quite interesting, a whole mix match of Herbology, Charms and general Potions. This was probably because this teacher didn't hate his guts like Professor Snape and wasn't constantly aiming to humiliate him. The teacher seemed to like Harry, after all he was quieter than most and more dedicated to his studies. Many of the teachers had noticed his silent determination to cram as much practical knowledge into his head as possible, and independently determined not to mention it. If he had things in his past that were so bad that they had this effect on him, they were certainly not going to re- open old wounds by making him talk about it.
As for his other subjects, well, he was very confident in Defense Against the Dark Arts, he always had been and his training the previous summer had definitely paid off. All of the others, however, were going to take a lot of very serious revision if he wanted to do well.
The whole school had taken on a strange, almost unknown atmosphere of stress and intense, almost desperate concentration. Three Gryffindor fifth years had broken down already under the pressure and so had two seventh years. The casualties were rumored to be even worse in Ravenclaw, where academic achievement was that much more important. Those were the two main exam years, of course, so there was a lot more pressure involved. Even the first years seemed to be working, a totally new development for everyone, and one that the teachers were taking advantage of while it lasted.
A couple of weeks into the summer term, mind reeling with the different potions he had to memorize, Harry threw his textbook across their dormitory, his notes following immediately afterwards and wafting all over the room. The others looked at him in surprise, for Harry to make such an outburst was unknown - it was usually Sirius that gave up, his active mind and body making him incapable of sitting still for any long period of time.
"I'm sick of this!" he exclaimed, exasperated. "We don't do anything fun any more, just work, work, work from breakfast until we go to bed. There's not even Quidditch at the moment!"
James nodded in understanding, very glad that someone else had voiced his feelings first so that he wouldn't have to take any blame for it.
"I don't think one evening off revision will make so much difference," he allowed. "After all, you can't concentrate if you try too much. It will do everyone good to laugh for once. Too many people are gloomy at the moment and its making everyone even worse!"
"I have an idea," Remus told them, putting down his Charms notes and looking over at them.
"What?" Sirius asked incredulously, always ready to tease his quieter friend. "The Perfect Prefect, Good Boy of the Marauders, making up pranks! Really, what is the world coming to? What would Dumbledore think?" Remus ignored him and explained, going over every part in minute detail. Gradually, the others began to see what he was getting at. They spent the rest of the evening practicing the charm that he'd adapted from his notes on the spot until all of them, even Peter, could do it perfectly all the time.
They had Potions first lesson the next morning, and even though it came first period and they couldn't have a lie in, they were all looking forward to it.
"In today's lesson," the Potions master began in his careful, precise voice, "You are making a Laughing Potion, that is page sixty three in your textbook. All the ingredients you will need are laid out on the front desk so that you can take them as you need them. This could easily come up in your exam, so I would advise you to take particular care in this class."
The class, consisting of about ten people, opened their textbooks and began, all diligently striving to be perfect and knock another thing off their revision lists. As soon as the Slytherins looked down, James nodded significantly and flicked his wand under the table. Nothing appeared to happen. The class continued working steadily down their lists without incident - there wasn't much that could go wrong with this particular potion, and they were a NEWT class, after all.
Snape raised his hand, and a number of people turned to look at him. Know- it-all Snape, the Potions genius. This might actually be useful for them.
"I'm sorry Professor, but would it be possible for me to have some slugs please? I don't think the others are as advanced as me in the list, but there don't appear to be any on the front desk sir, I did check for them."
The teacher frowned at him suspiciously. Surely Snape wouldn't be trying to play up his class?
"Who else will require slugs?"
The three Slytherins all raised their hands, checking their lists and looking confident. The teacher's eyes narrowed skeptically. Harry looked around at them innocently, pretending to be surprised at their inquiry.
"Severus, may I see your book?"
"Of course Professor."
Snape handed it to him unsuspectingly. The teacher smiled maliciously, as though he'd just been proved right.
"There is nothing on this list remotely resembling slugs. Fifteen points from Slytherin for wasting my time and trying to destroy the potions. As you at least should know, adding slugs to this potion would give you a Pepper Up potion, it could have hazardous effects if taken in the wrong quantities. Detention for you, Mr Snape, for putting this harmful prank into practice. I had thought that only the Gryffindors were immature enough to try to play jokes in lessons, but I must have been mistaken."
"But Professor!" Sirius protested earnestly. "We haven't disrupted a lesson since third year! How could you think such a thing? Its so juvenile!"
"Hmph," said the teacher doubtfully. "Don't interrupt, Mr Black. Kindly continue with your work, everyone."
Snape glared at the Marauders. He had no problems at all in assigning the blame where it was due, especially with their smug expressions.
"You'll pay for that!" he mouthed. Harry grinned at him, totally unconcerned by his meaningless threats. He wouldn't dare do anything else in Potions at the risk of losing even more points.