Dungbombs at Dawn

James Potter and Sirius Black crept out of the dormitories incredibly early the next morning, fuelled with excitement. It was still dark outside and at this hour, most inhabitants of the castle were still sound asleep. The two boys looked surprisingly refreshed and ready for action, considering what a late night they'd had. They were soon followed by Remus and Peter; Remus, looking anxious, and Peter, desperately trying to keep up while tottering slightly under the weight of a rather large bag he had slung over his shoulders.

All four of them had stayed up til nearly midnight, compiling a lengthy list of pranks they could play over the next seven days, each more extravagant than the previous one. Sirius had been so excited he had been practically bouncing off the walls, making harebrained suggestions for new practical jokes, and trying to come up with innovative ways to slip belch powder into people's pumpkin juice. Peter continuously giggled at every ingenious plan his friends thought of, and while he did make the odd contribution, he mainly just nodded eagerly and praised them manically when they asked his opinion. Remus, under James' instruction, rather reluctantly flicked through a few Charms and Potions textbooks for inspiration, finding some relatively simple charms they could do, and potions that wouldn't require any rare ingredients. James himself frantically scribbled down any ideas on parchment, not stopping until he was satisfied they had enough material to keep them stimulated for the entire seven days.

They had risen early, to get started on the first trick of the week. Early certainly was the key word: it was only a quarter to 6, and already the Marauders were well and truly into 'Marauder mode'.

"Don't you drop those dungbombs, Pettigrew," warned James, climbing through the portrait hole. "There's enough in there to vacate the whole castle, if they were to go off."

"Why…do we need…so many?" asked Peter, straining under the weight, his cheeks pink. "And where did you get them all?"

"Zonko's, of course," replied Sirius, as they followed James down a flight of stairs. "Where do you think? Its mine and James' secret stash - we've been collecting for ages, waiting for a chance to use them…and today seems like the perfect opportunity! Got the map, Moony?"

"…Yes," said Remus, somewhat grimly. Taking the Marauders Map out of his pocket and gently tapping it with his wand, he whispered: "I solemnly swear I am up to no good", and then added, "Unfortunately".

Inky lines blossomed across the parchment, detailing every nook and cranny of Hogwarts.

"Anyone about?" questioned James, drawing his own wand and whispering 'Lumos' ;it was still slightly too dark to see clearly.

Remus peered at the map. "Not that I can see," he replied. "The Bloody Baron's lurking somewhere on the second floor…and Madam Sprout is moving around downstairs. She must be up early to check on her plants in the Greenhouses. Apart from that…no one seems to be out of the dormitories yet. We should be all right."

"Good," said Sirius jovially. "Because I haven't yet thought of a convincing story as to why we're creeping around the castle with a large consignment of dungbombs at quarter to six on a Monday morning."

Remus grimaced at the sheer jeopardy of the situation.

"Just so as you know, I don't condone this at all," he asserted.

"Going to dob us in, Moony?" James chuckled. "Get yourself a gold star?"

"Shut up," Remus growled.

Trying to tread as lightly as possible, the four set off down a long, dark corridor, walls covered with portraits of snoozing witches and wizards.

"Now, everyone remember the plan of action?" asked James. "We make our way to Filch's office, check that the coast is clear, set up a few dungbombs, then plant some more along the corridor, charming them all as we go."

Peter looked confused, which was not unusual. He stopped, heaving the bag into a more comfortable position on his back. "Charming them to…what?"

Sirius gave him an exasperated look.

"Honestly, Peter, you really do have dragon bogies for brains, don't you? Were you listening at all last night?"

"I-I'm sorry, I just forgot!"

"For the last time, Wormtail," said James evenly. "We charm them to go off simultaneously at precisely 8 o'clock. That's when most people get up. We set them up, charm the lot, and then scarper. Its not that complicated."

"I still don't see…why we need…so many," Peter panted, stumbling sideways and almost colliding with a suit of armour.

"Better to have too many than not enough," said Sirius wisely, with a wink.

"I couldn't have put it better myself, Padfoot," said James in a tone of mock sincerity.

"Quiet, both of you!" whispered Remus. He had stopped, and was looking intently at the Map. "Oh god – its Filch! He's awake, and he's heading this way!"

"James! The cloak! Quickly!" ordered Sirius, his eyes frantic.

James wasted no time in yanking his Invisibility cloak out of his bag, and gesturing for his friends to move in close, so he could drape it over the four of them. The soft cool cloth fell lightly over their heads, and they vanished…mostly. The cloak – being designed for one, and one person only – was not quite sufficient to completely cover four teenage boys.

"You can still see our legs!" Peter whimpered in horror.

"Get down! On the floor!" hissed James.

The four Marauders dropped to their knees, the cloak falling gently down around them just in time as they heard the footsteps and unmistakable heavy breathing of Mr. Filch approaching around the corner. They backed up against the wall below a painting of a badger, and crouched, stock-still in silence.

Filch came creeping into view, in his tatty old caretakers coat, hair unkempt and lank, as always, and he was carrying a bright, glowing lantern. A dusty, dark grey cat with matted fur followed at his heels, flicking its tail and sniffing the air.

Filch stopped in front of the badger painting and looked around, suspiciously.

"I have a funny feeling there's students out of bed, creeping around the corridors, Scraggles," he told his cat, absently. "I could've sworn I heard voices…boys voices…"

For a second, he looked directly at the Marauders. Peter let out a horrified gasp, but was quickly silenced by Remus and Sirius clamping their hands over his mouth.

Filch took a few steps forward, leering nastily.

"They won't get far…" he grinned. "Oh, they won't get far at all…come on, my sweet."

He set off again, Scraggles slinking after him. James, Sirius, Remus and Peter waited with bated breath, and didn't dare move or breath until Filch's footsteps and the light from his lantern had both faded into the distance.

James let out a sigh of relief and pulled the invisibility cloak off them, as they got to their feet.

"Bit close, eh?" he evaluated.

"Close?" hissed Remus. "Can you imagine if he'd found us? We're not supposed to be out of our beds, let alone our dorms, let alone our common rooms!"

"Jeez, speaking of beds, looks like someone got out of the wrong side of theirs!" teased Sirius. "Why so moody, Remus? 'That time of the month', is it?"

Remus clearly didn't find this funny.

"Hillarious, Padfoot. Excuse me for being just a little concerned about us all winding up in detention."

"You're doing very well so far, Moony," said James soothingly, patting him on the back. "Just remember, deep breaths if we have another run in with the law. Come on, Filch's office is just around this corner."

Sure enough, James was right. As they turned the corner, they reached a door, adorned with an emaculately polished gold plaque, reading 'Caretaker: Argus Filch'.

"Do the honours, Padfoot," said James, as Sirius drew his wand with a flourish, pointed it at the door and muttered 'Alohomora'.

The door gave a satisfying click. James and Sirius grinned.

"Shall we?" asked Sirius, in a very suave voice.

"Indeed, old chap!" said James, adopting the same tone and strutting carelessly into Filch's office.

"Tally-ho!" Sirius hooted, doing the same - Peter following eagerly.

Remus groaned; it was never a good sign when James and Sirius started with the upper-class English snob mannerisms.

Within minutes, the four of them had laced Filch's office with dungbombs (which very cleverly, upon being planted, magically camouflaged themselves to whatever they were sitting on or next to). The bombs had been shoved unceremoniously into Filch's desk drawers and cabinets, potted plants, shelves and Scraggles the cat's bed. The Marauders had since made their way out again and were busy setting them in the surrounding hallways.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," muttered Remus in disbelief, placing a dungbomb behind a bust of Helga Hufflepuff, and putting the synchronisation charm on it with a swift wave of his wand. "I'm a house leader, yet, look – here I am, betraying Dumbledore's trust!"

"You do that once a month anyway, Remus," James pointed out. "We happen to run around with you as unregistered Animagi, remember?"

"Yeah, because that's not betraying his trust at all, is it?" Sirius smirked, as he planted a couple of dungbombs near a pillar. "Simply planting a few dungbombs here and there for good cheer is a lot different to running around as a werewolf in the Forbidden Forest with three of your illegally TRANSFIGURED friends. Very tame!"

"You're not making me feel any better, Sirius," said Remus flatly.

Peter suddenly scrambled back over to them from where he had been keeping watch. "I think people are starting to get up!" he whispered, pointing at the map.

"Well, we've well and truly covered Filchy's office, and the main corridor. I think our work here is done," said James, stretching, and giving his black hair an unnecessary ruffle.

"Time to go back to the common room and act completely natural," said Sirius. "Then when the clock strikes 8…sit back and watch the show!"

The Marauders instantly knew that 'Operation: Synchronised Dungbombs' had succeeded when they heard a mass of jumbled shrieks and screams from up on the third floor, while they were on their way to breakfast. Soon enough, students came hurtling down the stairs, coughing and spluttering, their faces buried in their robe sleeves in desperate attempts to avoid the foul odour from the dungbombs. A few teachers and staff members were racing the opposite way, towards the source of commotion instead of away, magicking pegs to clamp over their noses as they ran.

James, Peter, Sirius and Remus paused at the foot of the third floor staircase. The floor above was apparently in state of absolute panic, as odd wails, groans, screeches of "I can't breathe!!" and the sounds of retching came floating down to them, accompanied by the distinctive whiff of freshly exploded dungbombs.

James and Sirius couldn't help but smile in accomplishment.

"A good start to the seven days of chaos we plan to inflict on this school," James evaluated, pushing up his glasses. "Don't you agree, lads?"

"Bit traumatic for Peter here, I think," replied Sirius, half sympathetically, casting a sideways glance at Peter who was looking startled. "Bringing back some bad memories is it, Wormy?"

They were silenced as one particularly upset staff member came tramping down the stairs accompanied by Madam Pomfrey, the fluffy school nurse. It was Filch, and none of the four boys had ever seen him look so livid.

"DISOBEYING THE RULES!" he bellowed, wringing his hands. "HAVING THE CHEEK TO PUT THOSE PUTRID, ZONKO, DUNG THINGS IN MY OFFICE!! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON THE INSOLENT LITTLE SOD WHO'S DONE IT, HE'LL WISH HE'D NEVER BEEN BORN!!"

Pomfrey took his arm, willing him to calm down, and led him away as he continued to furiously shout about disrespect for staff, and arrogant teens needing a good beating.

The Marauders waited until he was out of range before they started speaking again.

"He-he sounds quite cross, doesn't he?" was all Peter could utter.

"I didn't think it possible for him to get any angrier than he did last year," said Sirius in awe. "We've done well!"

"Sirius, shut up!" urged Remus, as Professor Quinn staggered down the stairs from the scene of the crime, white-faced, clutching a handkerchief over her nose and mouth.

Professor Quinn was new to the staff. The school's walrus-like Potions Master Professor Slughorn had taken extended leave, and in his place, Quinn had arrived. She was a bitter woman; while only being 30 at most, she housed the temperament of a bossy old hag with toothache. She was slender, with thin, dark brown hair, always pulled into bun of maximum tightness, and pale hawk-ish eyes which never seemed to miss anything.

She turned them sharply on the four Marauders, who were still loitering at the bottom of the stairs.

"There's nothing to see, boys," she barked. "I suggest you cease your dallying and go immediately down to breakfast."

"Er – yes, Professor," said Sirius quickly, just as another group of students groaning in disgust stumbled down the stairs.

Quinn eyed the Marauders suspiciously and leaned forwards.

"You four wouldn't happen to have any idea who is responsible for this morning's little fiasco, would you?"

"Us?" spluttered Peter, fervently shaking his head.

"No," said James loudly.

Remus spied Professor Quinn's eyes narrowing to dangerous slits, and took over.

"Please, Professor – we just got here. We've been trying to find out what's going on ourselves."

His honest tone and gleaming Prefect badge seemed to win the Potions teacher over, and she relaxed ever so slightly, although her lips were still pressed tightly.

"Very well, Lupin" she snapped. "Though clearly it's none of YOUR business what's going on. I do believe I asked you to go down to breakfast, did I not?"

The four Marauders left without further ado, keen to avoid any further questioning.

"Do you think she suspects us?" asked Peter, quite alarmed.

"Nah, mate," James chuckled, not fazed by their encounter. "She's not even our Head of House, and anyway, she's new! Probably still thinks we're all sweet and innocent."

"We are, aren't we?" said Sirius, without missing a beat. "Still, nicely covered, Moony! Although, we pretty much had her under control even before you intervened."

"Is that right," said Remus, deadpan. "You three are just lucky I've always been a decent liar."

"Knew you'd come in handy," grinned James.