To which I would like to say: well.... some of them are finished. For exmaple this one: I'm just spreading it out because I like reviews.
This chapter features me having writer's block I think: See if you can tell.
When Sirius awoke the next morning he kept his eyes closed for as long as he could conceivably convince himself he was still asleep and then opened them hesitantly, holding his hand before his face.
Peter's newly clipped nails.
Not a dream then.
Bugger.
James and Peter had returned from their detention last night in high spirits: apparently Rowley had been lenient and had merely asked them to concoct a cauldron of Pepper-up potion to replace the stuff they had ruined. Sirius collected his galleon from James, who maintained that Sirius must have cheated somehow, and Remus explained about the pieces of parchment he had altered so that any writing from one appeared on the other.
His plan was that Peter and Sirius could use these pieces of parchment to communicate, undetected, during lessons. It was an old invention: part of the original Marauder's Map and, after repeated pestering before the others returned, Remus had distracted Sirius with his idea and the challenge of creating two new pieces of enchanted parchment. As Sirius had been the one to invent the things in the first place he had been reasonably confident he could work the spell himself whilst Remus finished his writing.
When it refused to adhere to the paper he was horrified. It was clear that the well of magic that normally dwelt inside him had been transferred with his physical body and now belonged to Peter. He was no longer nearly as powerful as he should have been.
Remus had broken away from his work when Sirius informed him, voice breaking, that he had become a squib and that his life was over. With a soft smile, keeping his hand on Sirius' arm, Remus explained quietly that Peter had managed to pass six years worth of magical learning and that he must be a reasonably powerful wizard; that it was just a shock and that Sirius could probably work the spell as long as he didn't push his magic too hard.
So Sirius had tried, slowly and gently, to make the spell. However, it soon turned out that, whilst the magical core of Sirius' being was part of his body, his wand was connected to his mind. When the others returned Sirius had pounced desperately on Peter who had, apparently, not noticed that anything was different: unused to being anything other than average he had accepted the muting of power that occurred when using another wizard's wand merely as normality.
Sirius had his own wand back now, cloaked in a glamour which he had insisted on casting himself even though he knew casting a spell on a magical object required more power than he really had control over any more. This spell was probably the reason he felt so rotten this morning but he was not going to give up. Sirius Black was not useless: he could cast a simple glamour on a wand.
He had gone to sleep early on Remus' suggestion, hoping that miraculously everything would be different in the morning.
He hadn't really been surprised when it wasn't. That would have been too easy. He stumbled into the shower and out again. This would be a very long day.
A
But, perhaps merely to be perverse, the day passed very quickly and Sirius found himself almost… enjoying the challenge pretending to be Peter entailed. At first during Transfiguration he kept his head down almost touching the back row desk Peter had claimed as his own six years ago: sure that the moment he met McGonagall's eyes she would know that he wasn't Wormtail. This wasn't unnatural behaviour as Peter spent a lot of time trying to go unnoticed but eventually McGonagall spotted his silence. "Mr Pettigrew?" she snapped.
Somewhere in front of him, in a place strategically chosen for its inconspicuousness ,Sirius could see the dark head that now belonged to Peter give an involuntary twitch until it had moved into a position that suggested it had been working the entire time and that with your inquiry, you were, in fact, deterring it from doing any more work.
Smiling slightly, Sirius tried to imitate the movement, looking up rather guiltily. "Yes, Professor?"
"The rest of the class have been discussing Metamorphmagi. I wonder if you could tell me the name of the spell that will transform a wizard into a Metamorphmagi."
This is a trick, Sirius' brain supplied. To see if I've been listening.
He glanced down at the parchment in front of him on which Peter had written: 'Switching spell? Sorry. I don't know.'
"Don't look at your book!" McGonagall insisted. "I told you this at the beginning of the lesson.
Sirius tried to look perplexed. "Um… a switching spell?" he offered.
McGonagall frowned. "Try listening Mr Pettigrew," she said, swirling back to the front of the classroom.
"Sorry Professor." Absently he doodled 'Metamorphmagi are born not made' on his parchment.
"Mr Black: same question."
"Metamorphmagi are born not made," Peter intoned gracefully, leaning back in his chair the way Sirius did whenever he answered a question he should not have answered correctly.
'There are ways-' Sirius wrote idly.
"- to change a wizard's physical appearance," Peter continued. "The tradition glamour for one or the Polyjuice Potion but these are temporary and require-"
"Yes, thank you: that will be enough," McGonagall interrupted. "Mr Pettigrew, I suggest you learn this."
"Yes Professor."
"And Mr Black, I suggest you at least pretend to be paying attention in my lesson because one of these days I am going to ask you a question to which you will not have already learnt the answer."
"I'll be waiting," Peter grinned, "Professor."
Something tapped gently into Sirius' ear and he reached up, removed the tiny paper bird and unfolded it.
'Had you realised Peter was such a good actor?' Remus had written. 'He's almost showing you up.'
Sirius laughed slightly and added: 'Nobody shows me up Moony. Just you wait until James does something good' underneath Remus' message.
Deftly, he folded the bird again and let it swoop back towards Remus who was sitting next to Peter. Unlike Sirius, Remus had been expecting the bird's arrival and let it alight on his hand. Sirius watched him reading the message, laugh silently and hand it over to Peter.
There was a pause and then Peter's handwriting appeared on the parchment in front of Sirius: 'I assume you already know this but if James does something good in class you merely smile proudly. Something good on the Quidditch pitch merits an excited scream. Anything else is up to you.'
Thrown off guard Sirius wrote: 'Was that a joke, Pete?'
'You'll see'.
'I'll see what?'
'You'll see'
Annoyed now, Sirius scribbled: 'Stop-' before McGonagall, who had presumably spotted the bird right in the beginning, suggested that if Mr Pettigrew spent more time doing his work and less time passing notes to his friends he might do better in Transfiguration and Sirius was forced to smile weakly and abandon his enquiries.
A
Fortunately for both Peter and Sirius only Remus had been brave enough (or had hated potions enough) to opt to take lessons his friends were not. Sirius and James both wanted to be aurors and Peter wanted to do whatever James was doing, which meant he had to continue with potions even though he was almost as bad as Remus had been. Then, strangely, James had announced to everyone's amazement at the end of their fifth year that he wanted to take Astronomy as well as the more traditional lessons required by the ministry, even though he had spent the last five years coasting along in the subject on his friends' knowledge. Sirius had been moderately disgusted but, since he was far better at Astronomy than James, had reluctantly agreed to take the class with him. Remus was also ironically fond of Astronomy and joined them for Peter's favourite lesson as well as for Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms whilst favouring Ancient Runes above Potions and Care of Magical Creatures over Divination.
After two years (five if you counted the pre-NEWT years) of inventing dubious futures under the steely eye of Professor Ammanon, who had never really liked him, Sirius was starting to wish he had taken Care of Magical Creatures with Remus instead. However, it was much too late now, and whilst Divination was almost as boring as History of Magic had been, it was at least very easy. Peter didn't need help from him in this class as it mainly involved sleeping and waking up very quickly if Ammanon called on you.
Today they were reading each other's auras which involved closing your eyes and concentrating very hard on the essence that surrounded your partner. So far Sirius had seen nothing hanging around James which was not only unsurprising but actually expected as he hadn't been trying in any way.
"Amy," Ammanon called, striding about the class briskly: "What have you discovered about Elizabeth in today's lesson?"
Amy Sutton's answer was predictable, extremely dull and something about the number of rabbits her friend owned: something she must have known before hand. However, rather astonishingly, this answer seemed to satisfy their teacher (perhaps rabbit-ownership hovered very near the edge of a person's auror) and Sirius made a note of it in case he too was called upon.
Unlike all the other teachers Professor Ammanon had elected to call most of her pupils by their first names in order to get to know the people behind the names with greater ease. Presumably it had not occurred to her that it was unfair to mark out those she hated by calling them by their surnames; either that or she simply didn't care. Previously both Sirius and James had been included in this category, however Ammanon had warmed to James once he became Head Boy, which was almost like having Dumbledore's seal of approval stamped across his forehead, and now the only person to be referred to by their surname was:
"Mr Black…" Ammanon swooped closer until she was less than a meter away from Peter. "There is something distinctly… odd about your aura; something…. very strange indeed."
Sirius was impressed despite himself. So, Ammanon had noticed he had Peter had switched: that was interesting. He had always loudly voiced the opinion that Ammanon was a big, fat phoney; that Divination was a pile of Doxy droppings and that anybody who believed it deserved what they got.
That he had had once said this to her face was probably behind her distinct hatred of him.
"Yes," Ammanon said, nastily. "It appears, my dear, that you are terribly empty inside." She waved her hand in the vague direction of his supposed aura. "Your aura is very thin… almost transparent. I am very sorry, dear, but it appears you will have a very lonely life."
"I can't see yours at all," Sirius offered sweetly.
Ammanon's head snapped up. "Peter, I am surprised at you." She had always liked Wormtail. "I would have expected such an answer from Mr Black but not from you… Yes… your aura is pulsing very strangely, my dear. Are you sure you are quite well?"
Overwhelmed with his good fortune, Sirius clutched slightly at his chest. "Actually Professor, I do feel rather woozy. Would it be alright if I went down to the hospital wing?"
"Of course, dear," Ammanon said kindly. "Come back whenever you're ready.
'Yer like that's going to happen.'
James made a sort of exasperated gasp as Sirius grinned at him cheerfully and headed down the step ladder. As the trap door closed he heard Ammanon snap: "Back to work, Mr Black."
Laughing, Sirius headed down to the fields near the Forbidden Forest where he spent a very enjoyable hour watching Remus learn to fly an Abraxan.
A
They had Quidditch practice that afternoon, or rather, James and Peter had Quidditch practice and Sirius and Remus sat in the stands and watched.
Whilst all the Marauders had tried out for the team as soon as they reached second year and it became an option, only James had been immediately offered a place as a chaser. Sirius had sulked for almost an entire year until, fortunately for everybody involved, both the team's beaters left Hogwarts and he was finally accepted; Remus had stopped attending tryouts after their fourth year; Peter had gone to every one. Like so many things, the problem was not that Peter was a bad player. In fact he was quite a good player and at another time might have made the team; but at the moment they had a side that had won Sirius Black and James Potter the admiration of their peers and the Quidditch cup for Gryffindor three years in a row.
"This is really boring," Sirius commented, after an hour had passed and the novelty of watching the practice had worn off.
Remus, who had been watching the Gryffindor Seeker Basil Newbury streaking after what might have been the snitch, looked round at him quizzically. "I thought you liked Quidditch."
Sirius made a non-committal noise and starred back at the red blurs in the sky. "Pete's not a beater, is he?" he added idly, as Peter recoiled from the bludger hurtling towards him and tried to strike out at it within the same movement.
"He's a keeper," Remus agreed. "Shame we already have Edwin."
They fell back into silence again, broken only by the team captain Robert Sullivan yelling at someone for something (Sirius couldn't hear the words but knowing Sullivan it was entirely possible he was just shouting because he liked shouting.)
"Why do you always call people by their first names," he asked eventually.
"Eh?" Remus asked, caught off guard.
"You. Why do you always call everyone by their first names?"
Remus looked totally baffled. "Because that's their name?" he offered. "I don't understand."
"I haven't heard anybody else called Channing 'Edwin'… well… ever I suppose."
Remus shrugged and then grinned. "Perhaps it's so I can 'relate to people more easily once the spiritual barriers between a person and his name have been broken down,'" he suggested, mimicking Professor Ammanon. "Does she still insist on calling you 'Mr Black'?"
"Every time."
"Good." He smiled and went back to watching the players. "Watching you two snipe at each other politely was always my favourite part of the lesson."
"I will never understand why people think you're sweet."
Remus' lips twinged into a half smile but he didn't rise to the bait. "No comment," he answered.
Sirius fidgeted a bit more before whining: "Moony, I'm boooooooored."
Remus looked surprised. "Are you really? I would never have guessed."
"Ha ha," Sirius returned ironically. "You a such a wit."
"I know: It's tiresome sometimes: being this clever."
"I'm sure it is, but unfortunately, despite your charming repartee, I'm still bored. Let's do something! Please."
Remus stared at him, almost mesmerised, for a moment then burst out laughing. "You have no idea how funny it is watching Peter pout," he explained.
Sirius fished some parchment and a quill out of his pocket. "Don't pout whilst you're Peter," he wrote, speaking out loud at the same time. "Unlike when I'm me, Moony thinks it's funny when I'm Peter which is distinctly embarrassing."
"I'm sorry," Remus apologised, not sounding very sorry but apparently penitent enough to finish with: "Look, we can play chess if you like."
Sirius rolled the parchment up again. "An excellent suggestion Mr Moony," he decided "with just one minor flaw: We don't have any chessmen."
"Well I do," Remus informed him. "Peter and I always stop actually watching the practice after about thirty minutes."
He grinned as this information sank in.
"You git!" Sirius exploded, looking around for something to throw at Remus and upon finding nothing contenting himself with rabid tickling. "I can't believe you made me watch this for an hour and half!"
"Very impressed…." Remus managed, through laughter. "Thought you…. give up… ten minute…. Get off you loon!... Won't… help you…"
Sirius pulled away. "Consider yourself lucky."
"So should you," Remus returned, trying to fight his hair until it looked in some way like it had when he'd left the dormitory this morning. "I don't want to give Peter a black-eye so you're safe for now."
"I'm trembling."
"Mmm well you should be. Tickling should be classed as cheating… mind you," he smiled, "that would probably just encourage you."
Sirius grinned back. "Probably," he agreed.
Still laughing slightly Remus said: "There should be a board and a set of chessmen in Peter's robes somewhere."
Sure enough after foraging through the five extra pockets that Peter's mother had presumably charmed to hold more than they should have done, Sirius produced a set of talkative chess men and a small wooden square that he shook out until it resembled a chess board.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me about this before hand," he said, as he released the chess men to surge onto the board.
"Personally, I can't believe you didn't ask before hand," Remus returned. "Pawn to E4. It'll be nice to win for once," he decided as his white pawn leapt energetically forward.
"What makes you think you're going to win?" Sirius retorted. "I happen to be an excellent player." Remus raised an eyebrow; Sirius ignored him. "Knight to C6. You are going down, my friend!"
"Oh yer?"
"Yer."
He lost spectacularly: the pieces realising about fifteen minutes into the game that he wasn't Peter and refusing to cooperate. Remus, who was really an awful chess player and who had probably suspected that Sirius' pieces would rebel because he was annoying like that, was delighted and, when Peter and James landed, exhausted after three hours of practice, insisted on happily detailing the entire match to Peter as they trekked back to the common room; Sirius hanging back with James who seemed to think he should be upset about losing.
A
A week passed.
And despite going to the library every evening and checking various dangerous looking books using James' Head-Boy-privileges and Madam Pince's fondness for Remus they had still not managed to locate the spell that Snape had accidentally cast on Sirius and Peter. After two or three evenings Remus had tentatively suggested that "telling Dumbledore might not actually be a bad idea" but the uproar this had created had seen them thrown from the library and he had not offered this opinion again.
Sirius was almost getting used to being Peter. He still didn't like it, but the revelation that he wasn't himself had ceased to be a paralysing shock every morning. There were also, he discovered, certain advantages to his predicament: one of them being that he got to sit next to James in potions again, another that he no longer had to attend Quidditch practice at five o'clock in the morning just because Sullivan suspected the team had become too complacent rising at eight and finally, most surprisingly of all, that he got to spend a lot more time with Remus. Before the change Sirius had always believed he knew Remus rather well. Remus sat next to him in Transfiguration and Charms, Remus helped him out if Snape had hexed his nose off and Remus bereted him about provoking Snape until Snape got so angry that he hexed Sirius' nose off in revenge.
He was beginning to realise that, aside from the times when once a month Padfoot revelled in the moonlight with Moony leaving the stag and rat far behind, he had missed out on a lot of opportunities simply to hang around with Remus: distracted by Quidditch practice or detentions with Rowley.
He awoke a week after the switch, not feeling like the world was going to end just because he wasn't Sirius Black, opened the curtains and saw himself holding a large bunch of roses.
"Morning Pete," Sirius yawned. "Roses? For me? You shouldn't have."
"I didn't," Peter informed him, colouring slightly.
"urprising," James commented sleepily, stumbling to the bathroom. He caught hold of the door and hung onto it for support. "Whof?" he asked.
"Translation from James' morning speech into generally accepted English," Sirius interjected. "Who are they for?"
James nodded. "Hate mornin'," he said to nobody in particular.
Everybody ignored him.
"For Isabella," Peter answered eventually.
"For who?" Sirius said stupidly.
"Isabella Claudius?" Remus asked, gradually picking himself out of the cocoon he had created of his bed covers. "Why?"
"Well, it's her birthday today," Peter told him, focusing on Remus instead of on Sirius. "I thought she'd like them… especially since I forgot her birthday when we were going out in fourth year."
There was a pause.
"Peter…" Remus said slowly. "You've never been out with Isabella."
"I have," Sirius said, finding himself growling slightly. "I forgot her birthday in fourth year. Those flowers are from me."
Peter blushed furiously. "Well not just from you but I suppose yes, in a way they are. I sat next to her for two years though so-"
"Did you talk to her?" Sirius interrupted. "You do know she's some sort of banshee from hell who'd hex you as soon as look at you… right?"
"I like her," Peter mumbled quietly then, unexpectedly, he gathered himself together, and looked back at Sirius who was glaring at him. "I think she's nice and it's not her fault you were a rubbish boyfriend who forgot her birthday."
"Hey!" Sirius yelled, trying to get out of his bed and towards Peter. "I was not a rubbish boyfriend."
"Yes, you were," Peter retorted, angrily. "You dated her for four months: she thought you were wonderful. She wanted to go out to Hogsmeade for her birthday for a romantic meal in Madam Puddifoot's. You said OK-"
"That never happened!" Sirius said furiously, his hands quivering over his wand.
"It's all here in your memory," Peter told him coldly. "Now if you'll excuse me I want to see Isabella before breakfast. James… you should do something to your hair: it looks dreadful."
The door slammed.
"Well… that was weird," James commented, having recovered the power of coherent speech just in time to offer an unhelpful observation and absently flattening his hair.
"Seconded," Remus agreed. "Hurry up in the bathroom, Prongs: breakfast promises to be fascinating."
A
"Any moment now," Sirius hissed, stabbing vindictively at his waffle.
"Padfoot," Remus said quietly, trying to lay his hand on Sirius' shoulder and getting it shrugged off.
"Any moment now she's going to hex him for ruining her birthday by infecting the air with his presence….. Any moment now… and we'll have to run to his rescue, of course." He considered the problem. "I think a nice bat bogey hex should do the trick, what about you?"
"Sirius mate," James interrupted kindly. "He's been sitting at the Ravenclaw table for the last half an hour. I think if she was going to throw him out he would have gone now… don't you?"
"No!" Sirius said desperately. "No… it's just a…. a diversion tactic! So he's not prepared when she does whatever it is she's going to do to him. It'll probably be really bad-"
"Sirius," Remus said. "Nothing's going to happen."
"That's what you said about Snape!" Sirius said triumphantly. "You said he had grown up and that he wasn't going to do anything. You said that Moony!"
"Yes, but-"
"And look at me now!"
Sirius was shouting now and after smiling reassuringly in the direction of the teachers James shrugged and cast: "Silencio."
"Thank Merlin for that," Remus murmured.
Sirius continued to yell, though now his insults were thrown at James who, mercifully, could not here them.
"Stop that," James instructed severely in a voice that he saved especially for Sirius and disobedient first years. "I'll take the spell off you once you've listened to what Remus and I are trying to tell you. Do you understand?"
Sirius nodded sullenly.
"Good," James said. "You are annoyed at the moment, correct?"
Sirius rolled his eyes.
"Correct," James continued, losing hold on his smile for a moment and letting it slip onto his face. "But do you know why you are annoyed?"
Sirius nodded violently and pointed towards where Peter was laughing at something Isabella had just said.
"But you don't actually like Isabella," Remus put it, taking over from James who smiled gratefully and attacked his breakfast again. "You think she's a… what was it, Prongs?"
"'anshee," James supplied through a mouthful of toast. He swallowed and added: "From hell."
Remus nodded. "Ah yes…. one who'd hex you as soon as look at you: I remember now. In fact, as far as we can see, the only reason you're annoyed is that Peter has managed to win her affection."
Eyebrows narrowed, Sirius pointed at his throat.
"Do you promise not to shout?" Remus inquired.
Sirius waved his hands 'yes: whatever' and James removed the spell.
"Peter hasn't won her affection," Sirius spat, voice slightly hoarse after the morning's shouting. "He would never be able to go out with her if he wasn't me at the moment."
Remus glared. "You don't know that."
"Oh come on, Remus," Sirius continued nastily. "How many girlfriends has Peter had? Let me see…. None, isn't that about right?"
"Isabella's birthday is now," Remus countered angrily. "He has no choice. Peter didn't ask for this change nor did he go out of his way to taunt Snape until something like this happened. Leave him alone for once."
"Moony, don't you see what's happening?" Sirius insisted.
Remus' eyes flashed dangerously. "Yes, I think I do," he said, barely keeping the anger out of his voice. "If Peter does manage to woo Isabella then good for him. If by some fluke she's attracted to his personality then she's proved she's not as stupid as the rest of her year and worth holding onto."
"She's not," Sirius countered contemptuously.
Remus stared at him, as if seeing him for the first time then said simply: "If on the other hand he manages to seduce her on good looks alone he's only doing what you've done for the last five years… James, I'll see you in Transfiguration."
And with that he rose from his seat and strode up towards the door, stopping only once to speak briefly to Isabella Claudius, presumably about her birthday and vanishing from the Hall.
"Well handled, mate," James commented quietly, pushing away the remains of his breakfast. "Well done."