A/N: MUCH better! Thank you so much. I have decided to reward you (and
cash in on this holiday winning streak thing, mwahaha) by updating again!
Ok... in reverse order - Teenage Drama Queen, I love your name and I SO
agree with you. Madame-knight, I am honoured that you feel my story
deserves reviewing ;-). Child-of-Scorpio... wot can i say but yes, I felt
sorry for Remus too as i wrote it, lol. And Lita - wow, I HAV to dedicate
a chapter to you. You are really supportive and great. Thanx. (oh and my
dad is a libra... lol. as r my two best friends...)
Chapter 9
One day soon after this, I was walking along with Sirius when a name caught my ear. "Lord Voldemort's recruited my brother, of course," said Marcius Malfoy's voice. "Lucius was one of the first, in fact. My family's always thought that muggles and mudbloods ought to be wiped out, and when he heard about Lord Voldemort..."
Sirius appeared to be horrified by something, but I was too pre-occupied to notice. Voldemort - that was the name of the person I had heard Professor Dumbledore talking to Professor McGonagall about last year.
"So will you be joining?" asked Snape's voice.
"As soon as I get out of this school, of course. But he only wants over-age supporters."
"Not that any pureblood of any age should have any trouble fighting a mudblood," a boy called Rosier said savagely. "Like that Lily Evans - thinks she's so good, but only purebloods can be really talented."
My muscles were tensing, but I knew I should not give away our presence.
"What I want to know," said Snape, "is what happens to muggle-lovers like the Potters."
Sirius grabbed my arm, but I wasn't going to attack.
"Oh, they'll go, definitely."
There was a hiss of satisfaction. "What I wouldn't give to be the one to get arrogant, stuck-up Potter," rasped Snape. "I'd laugh as I killed him..."
Sirius looked revolted as the others laughed.
"And what about Black?"
"Yes... but his parents -" Sirius leapt forward now, inexplicably giving me a terrified look.
"WHAT ABOUT MY PARENTS?"
There was a round of laughter. "You mean, Mummy and Daddy don't trust you to know?"
"I know," Sirius shouted, "just as much as you! But unlike you, it makes me sick!"
I was bemused, but as he began to hex them, I joined in heartily.
"What was all that about?" I inquired as we walked away.
"Nothing," he said shortly. "Nothing."
I knew better than to press it.
In early April Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw in a fairly non-descript match. We were now tying at the top of the Quidditch cup league with Slytherin, but still none of the victory seemed to be due to me. I had a taste for glory now, but admiration was only coming from my own class, and some other few. Apart from that, I was unknown - or else people were downright rude.
One day in May, a Ravenclaw first year, a cocky little sod, came up to me outside Charms.
"You're James Potter," he said snootily.
"Well done. I'm afraid I have no idea who you are," I replied cuttingly.
"Good. I wouldn't want to be known by a cheater and heartless git."
I gaped, and heard Lily Evans snort with laughter behind me. It rankled, even though I did not like her any more.
"Heartless, am I?" I grabbed the front of his shirt. "A cheater, am I? Well, let us see how a cheater can recall a few jinxes to make your little life a bit painful for an hour." I muttered some incantations - sparks flew. "There - ooh, I love the pink hair, mister. And I hope you don't mind having a lisp for a while..."
"Hey!" snapped a Ravenclaw girl in my year. "That's my brother!"
"Then teach him some manners," I replied coolly.
"There was no call for you to do that. I've been called worse than that - clearly something hit home," she retaliated.
"Or maybe I enjoy using hexes, and I don't bother with patience. Anyway, I'm sure you'd like to use worse on him." I switched on my 100 mega-watt charming grin and watched her melt.
"Yeah, maybe," she murmured.
He was the first person I had ever hexed apart from Snape, but I was growing accustomed to using them. I conjured water bullets to clear a blocked hallway and, amidst cheers, jinxed the person who was playing a game to hold everyone up. I hexed a Slytherin who was trying to threaten me outside the Great Hall. I cursed a boy who I heard call his friend 'as bad as a werewolf,' causing Remus to pale.
Sirius was as good - or bad, whichever way you looked at it. We each got a couple more detentions, but as the exams passed and summer loomed, we cared less than ever. The only major event left was the Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match.
Tensions were running high - it was the deciding match in the awarding of the Quidditch cup. Only the Slytherins supported their own team; Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff wanted us to win. Many people came to me with tips and good luck, but the Slytherins were somehow just as pro-active.
"So it's tonight, is it," yelled a laughing first year as I passed, "that we kidnap the oh-so-great Potter?"
I spun round. "Pedi capricorni!" I shouted. His hands and feet changed to hooves and he dropped to all fours. His face, understandably, was a picture of terror and humiliation as I began to mock. "So, what a fine kidnapper. I'll never hear your cute little cloven hoofs galloping up to capture me. Looks like the oh-so-brilliant Potter had struck again, doesn't it? Well, you know now not to cross me."
"Potter!" Damnation! Why was she always there? "Potter, is this your doing?"
"I was provoked, Professor McGonagall."
"I'm sure you were," she said dryly, "but imagine what would happen if everyone lost their temper for every provocation."
I widened my eyes. "That wasn't my temper," I said. "That was my sensible action to avoid being kidnapped by him."
For once in her life McGonagall looked stumped. Then, however, she spoke the words that made my face fall. "Potter, Professor Dumbledore wants to speak to you."
I hardly noticed where we were going as I walked in dismay beside her. Only once we had reached his office did I begin to pay attention.
"Chocolate frog," Professor McGonagall said briskly, and we marched through the opening doors.
"Are you free now, Professor?"
Professor Dumbledore looked up from a Daily Prophet and beamed. "Yes, yes, Minerva. Just perusing the crossword section."
"Well, then, I've brought James Potter to talk to you."
He turned to me and smiled reassuringly. "Guilty conscience? Well, we'll talk about that shortly. You may go, Minerva."
"Yes, Professor Dumbledore."
"Albus," he corrected cheerily as she departed. "Now, James..." It was the first time I had been called James by a teacher. I was surprised but said nothing. "I gather that this time you gave a Slytherin cloven hoofs?"
I nodded. I didn't ask how he knew.
"I also gather that you were at least semi-provoked. So all I will say about that is - try to avoid causing lasting harm to people, and... don't abuse the respect you have earnt from your peers through Quidditch, excellent grades and some... mischief."
I smiled, and his blue eyes twinkled. "What I actually wanted to talk to you about, however, is a matter concerning Mr Remus Lupin. I hear that you and Sirius Black have worked out his little secret?"
"Yes, sir."
"I had expected you and Mr Black to realise soon enough. You are, after all, our best pupils. However, I must impress on you now the importance of care."
I was bemused. I had come in expecting to be suspended, at the least, and now he wanted to talk about caring for Moony. "Care, sir?"
"Yes. Care of his feelings, care of his health, care that no-one else finds out."
I swallowed. "Sirius and I wouldn't tell anyone else. Ever."
"No, of course you wouldn't - deliberately. I trust you both. The only reason I want to talk to you about it is because... well, what prompted me to think of it was your attack on the boy being degrading about werewolves. I see that you are a fiercely protective friend, and I take delight in it. It is an admirable thing to be - one who would, I believe, die before killing a friend, is a true wizard, however they might appear otherwise." He smiled. "However, it is also a dangerous thing to be, for yourself, and possibly the friend you are trying to protect, especially if it is a matter like this. Secrecy is crucial, and it is very important that you don't let anything slip in a fit of pique. I have seen it happen before. Your friend Mr Black is just as, well, reckless when it comes to rules, but I think he does not share your greatest strength - and weakness. Just be careful, that's all I say."
I felt ashamed, yet I had not done anything. A sense of injustice began to creep in at that thought. Why was he having a go at me for something I hadn't done?
"I'm merely trying to stop a mistake," he said. "I'm not criticising you. It is a person like you that I would trust with my life. I would just remind you that if the wrong person knew about Remus, it would cost him a fulfilled life, if not an actual life."
I left Dumbledore's office under the impression that he had been telling me something very important in there. Not the point about Remus - I knew that that was important - but the bit about 'my greatest strength'. Didn't everyone feel that a friend's life was, if necessary, the most important thing? Apparently not. I shook myself. It was just a small thing, I decided. Nothing to dwell on. And at least I wasn't in trouble - not even a detention, this time. He had hardly even reprimanded me.
The big day of Gryffindor versus Slytherin dawned grey and wet, but I wasn't too nervous until I entered the changing rooms, where all of my team mates were looking glum. "We've never beaten Slytherin before," Geoff informed me grimly when I asked why he was in such a foul temper. "Certainly not in this weather." A flicker of self-doubt shot through me, but surely everything would be all right. It was only a cup, after all - but it wasn't. It had become, over the years, symbolic, and now, with relations between Snape and I at their worst, it was particularly important.
I strode out onto the soggy pitch in my red robes, trying to be optimistic, but from the moment we left the ground it was hopeless. For the first ten minutes, I didn't even see the Quaffle, and neither did any of the Slytherins, so far as I could make out. At last the whistle went for time out and we streaked to the ground.
"This is absurd," I moaned, but a figure was running onto the pitch. "Remus!"
"Impervius," he muttered, grinning and waving his wand over the Gryffindor team. Suddenly the rain began to stream backwards, away from us. Visibility was poor, still, but at least the sky wasn't opaque any more. Geoff Bones clapped Remus on the back ferociously, lamenting his own stupidity in not considering it. We left the ground again, and now I was on a roll.
Goal after goal shot through the Slytherin hoops over the next hour, and not a point was scored by them in return. We led by one hundred points, one hundred and ten, twenty, thirty points... I did a loop the loop in triumph. We were winning by one hundred and fifty points when Slytherin scored. I laughed, feeling reckless, when I saw a terrifying sight. The Slytherin Seeker was soaring up to a glitter of gold by our goal, and Geoff was streaking too far behind. We were only leading by one hundred and forty points - we were about to lose. I flattened myself to my broom, intercepted the Quaffle, dived towards the goal and scored once - Weasley was hovering behind the goal, mesmerised by the sight of the Seekers. The Slytherin keeper had been too, to my relief.
"Arthur!" I screamed. He caught the Quaffle but did nothing. I glanced over my shoulder. I had ten seconds, tops. I shot forward, nearly knocking the Slytherin keeper off his broom, snatched the Quaffle, went back round and shot again - just as the final whistle went.
But had I been fast enough?
The Slytherins were celebrating in the stadium - the Gryffindor flags were being lowered. I had been too late. Damn Arthur Weasley. We could have done it, if he'd been concentrating.
The pitch was a blur of whooping, cheering green and silver flags as the team landed. I, however, stayed in the air for as long as possible. I didn't want to go down, but finally I knew I had to. Professor Dumbledore coughed once on the podium and the whole crowd turned to watch as he lifted the Quidditch cup.
"Well done, Slytherin," he said. "That was an excellent catch, Crabbe... but I'm afraid I have bad news for you Slytherin supporters." We all waited. "It is Gryffindor house that has won the Quidditch cup, thanks to two last second goals by one James Potter. Congratulations!"
So at last I was the Gryffindor hero. The Slytherins were furious, but I didn't care. Even Lily Evans smiled up at me as I was lifted above the rest, but then she caught herself and looked away. My grin was almost painful, but I didn't care. I had done it. I had won us the Quidditch cup.
"Here's to James Potter!" yelled the team.
Sirius was just tumbling through the portrait hole, arms clearly full of food, when I arrived. As I entered the common room, I could see why - there was a party going strong, with the cup at the centre of the room.
"Straight from the kitchens!" Sirius was laughing as people helped him and Remus unload their supplies onto a central table. "Just call us the Marauders - and James too, it was him that found the way in first time."
"Hey, Sirius!" I called.
"And here's James himself!"
I found myself swamped by a crowd of cheering, yelling people - I emerged with the Gryffindor flag tied round my neck, the lion roaring playfully at strategic points. I grinned.
"We'd have been lost without you, mate," said a fifth year I'd never spoken to before. "Ten normal goals single-handed, and then those sneaky two at the end - amazing!"
"Yeah," said a fourth year girl. "I took a review with my omnioculars from the last World Cup - it was brill!"
"Lupin stopped the rain, Potter scored the goals and Black's bringing the food! Three cheers for the Marauders!"
It was the perfect end to the year.
A/N: So keep up reviewing... oh, and Eihwaz feels she has not contributed for a while... so here is her wonderful contribution.. Default B/N: subliminal message Sev is a gorgeous god. WORSHIP HIM!!! A/N: Please review in spite of that...
One day soon after this, I was walking along with Sirius when a name caught my ear. "Lord Voldemort's recruited my brother, of course," said Marcius Malfoy's voice. "Lucius was one of the first, in fact. My family's always thought that muggles and mudbloods ought to be wiped out, and when he heard about Lord Voldemort..."
Sirius appeared to be horrified by something, but I was too pre-occupied to notice. Voldemort - that was the name of the person I had heard Professor Dumbledore talking to Professor McGonagall about last year.
"So will you be joining?" asked Snape's voice.
"As soon as I get out of this school, of course. But he only wants over-age supporters."
"Not that any pureblood of any age should have any trouble fighting a mudblood," a boy called Rosier said savagely. "Like that Lily Evans - thinks she's so good, but only purebloods can be really talented."
My muscles were tensing, but I knew I should not give away our presence.
"What I want to know," said Snape, "is what happens to muggle-lovers like the Potters."
Sirius grabbed my arm, but I wasn't going to attack.
"Oh, they'll go, definitely."
There was a hiss of satisfaction. "What I wouldn't give to be the one to get arrogant, stuck-up Potter," rasped Snape. "I'd laugh as I killed him..."
Sirius looked revolted as the others laughed.
"And what about Black?"
"Yes... but his parents -" Sirius leapt forward now, inexplicably giving me a terrified look.
"WHAT ABOUT MY PARENTS?"
There was a round of laughter. "You mean, Mummy and Daddy don't trust you to know?"
"I know," Sirius shouted, "just as much as you! But unlike you, it makes me sick!"
I was bemused, but as he began to hex them, I joined in heartily.
"What was all that about?" I inquired as we walked away.
"Nothing," he said shortly. "Nothing."
I knew better than to press it.
In early April Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw in a fairly non-descript match. We were now tying at the top of the Quidditch cup league with Slytherin, but still none of the victory seemed to be due to me. I had a taste for glory now, but admiration was only coming from my own class, and some other few. Apart from that, I was unknown - or else people were downright rude.
One day in May, a Ravenclaw first year, a cocky little sod, came up to me outside Charms.
"You're James Potter," he said snootily.
"Well done. I'm afraid I have no idea who you are," I replied cuttingly.
"Good. I wouldn't want to be known by a cheater and heartless git."
I gaped, and heard Lily Evans snort with laughter behind me. It rankled, even though I did not like her any more.
"Heartless, am I?" I grabbed the front of his shirt. "A cheater, am I? Well, let us see how a cheater can recall a few jinxes to make your little life a bit painful for an hour." I muttered some incantations - sparks flew. "There - ooh, I love the pink hair, mister. And I hope you don't mind having a lisp for a while..."
"Hey!" snapped a Ravenclaw girl in my year. "That's my brother!"
"Then teach him some manners," I replied coolly.
"There was no call for you to do that. I've been called worse than that - clearly something hit home," she retaliated.
"Or maybe I enjoy using hexes, and I don't bother with patience. Anyway, I'm sure you'd like to use worse on him." I switched on my 100 mega-watt charming grin and watched her melt.
"Yeah, maybe," she murmured.
He was the first person I had ever hexed apart from Snape, but I was growing accustomed to using them. I conjured water bullets to clear a blocked hallway and, amidst cheers, jinxed the person who was playing a game to hold everyone up. I hexed a Slytherin who was trying to threaten me outside the Great Hall. I cursed a boy who I heard call his friend 'as bad as a werewolf,' causing Remus to pale.
Sirius was as good - or bad, whichever way you looked at it. We each got a couple more detentions, but as the exams passed and summer loomed, we cared less than ever. The only major event left was the Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match.
Tensions were running high - it was the deciding match in the awarding of the Quidditch cup. Only the Slytherins supported their own team; Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff wanted us to win. Many people came to me with tips and good luck, but the Slytherins were somehow just as pro-active.
"So it's tonight, is it," yelled a laughing first year as I passed, "that we kidnap the oh-so-great Potter?"
I spun round. "Pedi capricorni!" I shouted. His hands and feet changed to hooves and he dropped to all fours. His face, understandably, was a picture of terror and humiliation as I began to mock. "So, what a fine kidnapper. I'll never hear your cute little cloven hoofs galloping up to capture me. Looks like the oh-so-brilliant Potter had struck again, doesn't it? Well, you know now not to cross me."
"Potter!" Damnation! Why was she always there? "Potter, is this your doing?"
"I was provoked, Professor McGonagall."
"I'm sure you were," she said dryly, "but imagine what would happen if everyone lost their temper for every provocation."
I widened my eyes. "That wasn't my temper," I said. "That was my sensible action to avoid being kidnapped by him."
For once in her life McGonagall looked stumped. Then, however, she spoke the words that made my face fall. "Potter, Professor Dumbledore wants to speak to you."
I hardly noticed where we were going as I walked in dismay beside her. Only once we had reached his office did I begin to pay attention.
"Chocolate frog," Professor McGonagall said briskly, and we marched through the opening doors.
"Are you free now, Professor?"
Professor Dumbledore looked up from a Daily Prophet and beamed. "Yes, yes, Minerva. Just perusing the crossword section."
"Well, then, I've brought James Potter to talk to you."
He turned to me and smiled reassuringly. "Guilty conscience? Well, we'll talk about that shortly. You may go, Minerva."
"Yes, Professor Dumbledore."
"Albus," he corrected cheerily as she departed. "Now, James..." It was the first time I had been called James by a teacher. I was surprised but said nothing. "I gather that this time you gave a Slytherin cloven hoofs?"
I nodded. I didn't ask how he knew.
"I also gather that you were at least semi-provoked. So all I will say about that is - try to avoid causing lasting harm to people, and... don't abuse the respect you have earnt from your peers through Quidditch, excellent grades and some... mischief."
I smiled, and his blue eyes twinkled. "What I actually wanted to talk to you about, however, is a matter concerning Mr Remus Lupin. I hear that you and Sirius Black have worked out his little secret?"
"Yes, sir."
"I had expected you and Mr Black to realise soon enough. You are, after all, our best pupils. However, I must impress on you now the importance of care."
I was bemused. I had come in expecting to be suspended, at the least, and now he wanted to talk about caring for Moony. "Care, sir?"
"Yes. Care of his feelings, care of his health, care that no-one else finds out."
I swallowed. "Sirius and I wouldn't tell anyone else. Ever."
"No, of course you wouldn't - deliberately. I trust you both. The only reason I want to talk to you about it is because... well, what prompted me to think of it was your attack on the boy being degrading about werewolves. I see that you are a fiercely protective friend, and I take delight in it. It is an admirable thing to be - one who would, I believe, die before killing a friend, is a true wizard, however they might appear otherwise." He smiled. "However, it is also a dangerous thing to be, for yourself, and possibly the friend you are trying to protect, especially if it is a matter like this. Secrecy is crucial, and it is very important that you don't let anything slip in a fit of pique. I have seen it happen before. Your friend Mr Black is just as, well, reckless when it comes to rules, but I think he does not share your greatest strength - and weakness. Just be careful, that's all I say."
I felt ashamed, yet I had not done anything. A sense of injustice began to creep in at that thought. Why was he having a go at me for something I hadn't done?
"I'm merely trying to stop a mistake," he said. "I'm not criticising you. It is a person like you that I would trust with my life. I would just remind you that if the wrong person knew about Remus, it would cost him a fulfilled life, if not an actual life."
I left Dumbledore's office under the impression that he had been telling me something very important in there. Not the point about Remus - I knew that that was important - but the bit about 'my greatest strength'. Didn't everyone feel that a friend's life was, if necessary, the most important thing? Apparently not. I shook myself. It was just a small thing, I decided. Nothing to dwell on. And at least I wasn't in trouble - not even a detention, this time. He had hardly even reprimanded me.
The big day of Gryffindor versus Slytherin dawned grey and wet, but I wasn't too nervous until I entered the changing rooms, where all of my team mates were looking glum. "We've never beaten Slytherin before," Geoff informed me grimly when I asked why he was in such a foul temper. "Certainly not in this weather." A flicker of self-doubt shot through me, but surely everything would be all right. It was only a cup, after all - but it wasn't. It had become, over the years, symbolic, and now, with relations between Snape and I at their worst, it was particularly important.
I strode out onto the soggy pitch in my red robes, trying to be optimistic, but from the moment we left the ground it was hopeless. For the first ten minutes, I didn't even see the Quaffle, and neither did any of the Slytherins, so far as I could make out. At last the whistle went for time out and we streaked to the ground.
"This is absurd," I moaned, but a figure was running onto the pitch. "Remus!"
"Impervius," he muttered, grinning and waving his wand over the Gryffindor team. Suddenly the rain began to stream backwards, away from us. Visibility was poor, still, but at least the sky wasn't opaque any more. Geoff Bones clapped Remus on the back ferociously, lamenting his own stupidity in not considering it. We left the ground again, and now I was on a roll.
Goal after goal shot through the Slytherin hoops over the next hour, and not a point was scored by them in return. We led by one hundred points, one hundred and ten, twenty, thirty points... I did a loop the loop in triumph. We were winning by one hundred and fifty points when Slytherin scored. I laughed, feeling reckless, when I saw a terrifying sight. The Slytherin Seeker was soaring up to a glitter of gold by our goal, and Geoff was streaking too far behind. We were only leading by one hundred and forty points - we were about to lose. I flattened myself to my broom, intercepted the Quaffle, dived towards the goal and scored once - Weasley was hovering behind the goal, mesmerised by the sight of the Seekers. The Slytherin keeper had been too, to my relief.
"Arthur!" I screamed. He caught the Quaffle but did nothing. I glanced over my shoulder. I had ten seconds, tops. I shot forward, nearly knocking the Slytherin keeper off his broom, snatched the Quaffle, went back round and shot again - just as the final whistle went.
But had I been fast enough?
The Slytherins were celebrating in the stadium - the Gryffindor flags were being lowered. I had been too late. Damn Arthur Weasley. We could have done it, if he'd been concentrating.
The pitch was a blur of whooping, cheering green and silver flags as the team landed. I, however, stayed in the air for as long as possible. I didn't want to go down, but finally I knew I had to. Professor Dumbledore coughed once on the podium and the whole crowd turned to watch as he lifted the Quidditch cup.
"Well done, Slytherin," he said. "That was an excellent catch, Crabbe... but I'm afraid I have bad news for you Slytherin supporters." We all waited. "It is Gryffindor house that has won the Quidditch cup, thanks to two last second goals by one James Potter. Congratulations!"
So at last I was the Gryffindor hero. The Slytherins were furious, but I didn't care. Even Lily Evans smiled up at me as I was lifted above the rest, but then she caught herself and looked away. My grin was almost painful, but I didn't care. I had done it. I had won us the Quidditch cup.
"Here's to James Potter!" yelled the team.
Sirius was just tumbling through the portrait hole, arms clearly full of food, when I arrived. As I entered the common room, I could see why - there was a party going strong, with the cup at the centre of the room.
"Straight from the kitchens!" Sirius was laughing as people helped him and Remus unload their supplies onto a central table. "Just call us the Marauders - and James too, it was him that found the way in first time."
"Hey, Sirius!" I called.
"And here's James himself!"
I found myself swamped by a crowd of cheering, yelling people - I emerged with the Gryffindor flag tied round my neck, the lion roaring playfully at strategic points. I grinned.
"We'd have been lost without you, mate," said a fifth year I'd never spoken to before. "Ten normal goals single-handed, and then those sneaky two at the end - amazing!"
"Yeah," said a fourth year girl. "I took a review with my omnioculars from the last World Cup - it was brill!"
"Lupin stopped the rain, Potter scored the goals and Black's bringing the food! Three cheers for the Marauders!"
It was the perfect end to the year.
A/N: So keep up reviewing... oh, and Eihwaz feels she has not contributed for a while... so here is her wonderful contribution.. Default B/N: subliminal message Sev is a gorgeous god. WORSHIP HIM!!! A/N: Please review in spite of that...