"You know," Sirius commented. "I'm probably stronger than either one of you."

"I don't care," I told him, trying to hold the bust up so James could properly anchor it and Uric didn't loose his nose. "We are not trusting you with anything breakable. Now turn around and keep your eyes peeled— there's no guarantee that Nick can keep everyone from coming down this hall!"

Sirius shrugged and turned back around. "Oh, look, it's Farbauti's snake," he announced boredly.

James nearly dropped his end of the statue. I nearly howled in exasperation. "Sirius, its not funny when I'm trying to keep my weight in marble from crushing me!"

"Then let me help— put Peter on watch duty."

"Peter's trying to find Peeves," James reminded him, tugging the statue a little farther onto the pedestal so it wasn't completely crushing me. "We aren't about to trust you with sharp or breakable objects. There seems to a rule about it, like not running with scissors."

Sirius shrugged and turned back to the hallway. For five minutes, we were left alone to try to get a rope tied around the stupid thing, until Sirius decided another stupid ploy. "Hullo, Mrs. Norris."

This time I jumped, and it was a good thing that James had finally gotten the rope knotted or I'd be under eighty pounds of marble. "I'm serious, it's not funny," I snapped.

Sirius pretended to contemplate it. "No, I'm Sirius, you're—"

"Sirius!"

He gave up. The next time he turned around, it was because Peeves had returned, trailing a frazzled-looking Peter and cackling maniacally. "Pete has returned, and he has succeeded in his quest. Why didn't you send me after the poltergeist, anyway? He didn't want to go."

"Because you would've gotten lost in five minutes. Now get up there and help!" I exclaimed.

Sirius joined James at the top of the pedestal— which was hardly made with enough space to properly hold both of them— and took hold of the rope. James, fortunately, knew better than to leave it to the bigger boy. "Peeves, Pete, one of you— tie it there," he demanded, removing one hand long enough to gesture at the hook we'd installed in the wall to having to hold it entirely until the intended victim came along— though we all knew Filch was a good enough dodge it would miss him.

Peeves was surprisingly obliging in picking up the rope. Unfortunately, at that moment, Nick's voice called from down the hall. "You boys might want to put up!"

Peeves disappeared. "Fair weather friend," Sirius muttered.

"Next prank's on him," James growled, pulling on the rope. "Maybe we can get it up and still run for it— Sirius, help me with it."

Sirius tugged on the rope, too, and Peter helped me push, and we got it up. James was still balanced between Uric and the wall, with the rope a telltale sign of mischief when Filch actually appeared, though. "My office, now," he said shortly.

Sirius swore. Filch lifted an eyebrow. "Well, come on," he growled.

We glanced around at each other and shrugged— it wasn't as if we had another choice. James hopped off the pedestal and we reluctantly followed Filch into his office.

An older student, undoubtably a trickster himself for telling us it, had told us that Filch's office was dark and dusty, with manacles hanging from the ceiling and if you looked closely at the back of the wall, there would be a skeleton among his stack of brooms. This made a nice story— Peter had shivered appropriately at the skeleton part and Sirius and James had wanted to know whose it was— he'd answered that it once been a Slytherin who conjured snow in the dungeons over Easter holiday— but it was only a story. The reality was much less romantic. Filch's office was lit well enough to see things clearly, and while there were manacles hanging from the ceiling, they were lovingly polished manacles I could see my reflection in. In fact, I doubted there was a speck of dust in the entire room.

Sirius was examining the brooms as I looked at the ceiling. "Nope," he muttered. "No skeleton. I'm disappointed."

"But hardly surprised," I murmured. "Besides, if he'd killed someone, you'd think he'd have hidden it better— you'd expect the caretaker to make a clean job of it."

"Your puns are almost as bad as mine."

"Note the almost," James told him irritably, "we hear the one about your name again and we throw you into the lake and hope the Giant Squid is friendlier than those fifth years made him out to be. That joke was old the day you were born!"

"Now," Filch announced, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill to write something down to put us in his filing cabinet. Somehow, I got the feeling he'd be putting us in his filing cabinet rather a lot. "You have nearly damaged a bust of Uric the Oddball, which I now have to clean again—"

"It was due, the thing was covered with dust anyway," James announced.

"—attempted to drop something on someone's head— I don't care who's at the moment—"

"Three guesses, and it wasn't a teacher, a student, or Hagrid," Sirius told him.

"—and generally wasted my time on a Sunday afternoon," Filch continued without giving Sirius his three guesses. He glanced over at Peter, who was looking up at The manacles and apparently amusing himself by trying to distort his image in them more than they already did. "As much as I would love to hang you by those for the night, Dumbledore doesn't seem to approve of it," Filch grumbled.

The four of us exchanged glances, and Sirius opened his mouth, undoubtably for an "I wonder why."

Filch cut him off before the words were out. "Instead, however, you can help me clean the trophy room on Thursday night. Now, get out of here."

The other three left, but I stuck around for a moment, staring down his cat until he noticed that I hadn't left. "And what exactly are you still doing here? D'you want another detention?" he snapped.

"Actually, that's exactly what I want— I . . . I can't do it Thursday night."

The cat leapt up onto Filch's desk, and he stroked her ears absently, lifting his eyebrows. "And why not?" he wanted to know.

How many people knew Dumbledore had let a werewolf in? Madame Pomfrey, certainly, but that was expected— I never got out of my wolf shape without getting hurt. Probably Professor McGonagall, but Filch? "Um," I said, staring at the calendar.

Filch glanced over at it. "What is so special about Thursday night?" he demanded. Realizing that there was something written on it, he got up and glanced at it. "The full moon. The headmaster said there'd be a werewolf coming to Hogwarts. It would be one that caused trouble in more than one way. Fine— you're not getting out of it because you're 'sick.' I'll think of something else. Now get out of here."

I left quite happily, making my way back to the Gryffindor common room. I really didn't want to think about Thursday night, and while it was unreasonable I was furious at Filch for bringing it up. I wasn't normal— so what? Well, part of me happily took to that argument, but the other half kept muttering something about Dark creatures. I was too confused and pushed the entire thing out of my mind for the time being.

"There you are," the Fat Lady commented when I appeared. "When your friends came back without you I was half-afraid you'd ended up in the hospital wing."

I shrugged.

"Password?" she asked, still cheerfully.

I paused, trying to remember it. "Waddawasi," I muttered finally, looking up at the sky and asking no one in particular why it had to be me.

In the common room, Sirius was already planning revenge. When my only response to the concept was to lift my eyebrows, he explained. "Because he's a complete pain in the—"

"Filch or Peeves?" I interrupted.

"Both. What were you doing sticking around?" he added curiously. "Not trying to get out of detention, were you?"

"I wish. It wouldn't've worked anyway," I mumbled. "Thursday is just not going to be my night."

"I don't think it's going to be any of our week," Peter grumbled. "We've already gotten caught rule breaking and two of us—" he grinned at James and Sirius "—already have two detentions. What were you trying to do, anyway?" he added.

"Nothing," I said evasively. "Anyone up for a game of chess?"

James and Sirius shook their heads— they were evidently talking about the next prank they were going to try to pull— and probably get me and Peter to participate in. Peter, however, looked interested. "How does it change in the wizarding world?" he wanted to know.

"The players move on their own— and try to throttle each other," I told him, heading up to the dormitory and coming back down with my set.

Lily Evans, who was doing homework, stopped to watch us. "That is absolutely barbaric," she commented when my knight took out one of Peter's bishops.

"That's the fun of it," I told her cheerfully. "By the way, Peter, that's check."

Peter grumbled and looked around, trying to find a way to take my knight. We were used to James and Sirius conspiring in the corner by now, so the detentions, for the moment, had been entirely forgotten.

Author's Note: Who said the Marauders had to succeed at every prank they pulled? Loki would like to take this moment to apologize for the wait. Apology accepted? And of course I had to play with Pete and Rem's characters as far as academic strengths— none of them were perfect, and Peter was smart enough to fake his own death, wasn't he? Anyway, thanks for the reviews, folks! Cheers! — Loki