Warning: It's a Mary Sue, people. COME ON:P

Disclaimer: JKR. Not mine. Got it?

Chapter Eleven: Smoke 'Em If You've Got 'Em

The holiday break seemed way too short because before we realized it the second term was starting. Our workloads seemed to nearly double (if that were even possible) because of the upcoming O.W.L exams. We had a similar system in the States called a P.W.L—Preliminary Wizarding License—that we tested for when we turned 16. Sort of like Muggles and a drivers license only using a wand instead of a car and a crusty old wizard besides a…well, crusty old driving instructor. I knew that the tests were coming all year, but like any average teenager (with the exception of Hermione) I procrastinated. Now it was the end of January and I was still struggling with Transfiguration and Divination. Professor Trelawney had stopped taking my B.S. predictions when in a fit of exasperation I said the alignments of the planets showed she was going to be sacked as a fraud. Transfiguration hadn't been much better—while we had moved passed shoes I hadn't been able to quite make my toad completely vanish. Well, just his head.

"You'll get the hang of it," Harry told me one afternoon as we left class, "We'll just have to practice."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered, "Your toad didn't parade headless around the classroom for half an hour."

Harry just laughed as we made our way up to the North Tower. I was actually starting to dread Divination as much as Potions—almost. Snape was still being git and hadn't given up on the Yankee slander. For the most part, I let it slide and tried to remind myself of that precious, unguarded quality time at Christmas—but I was starting to tap that well dry. The last lesson I made a production of rolling my eyes and he took twenty points. At least in Divination I didn't have to deal with Malfoy who had been seething ever since his little Quidditch fiasco. Every class I had with him consisted of nothing more than the two of us trying to get a rise out of each other—at least I could boast that we'd both been in detentions an equal number of times. As usual, I tried not to prowl the corridors by myself after dark (a habit you tend to pick up when living in New York), which ended up being a very good thing as several times Malfoy tried to get some of his goonies to jump me. It was like having the magical mafia after me 24-7.

When we finally reached the ladder to take us into the "Tower of Despair" (I now called it) I stopped short and whined.

"Unhhhh…" I moaned, "I don't wanna go up there!"

Harry had one hand on the ladder when he looked back at me, "You have to go, Reggie. You know how Trelawney is with you—she'll just make your next lesson harder."

I stood there for a moment looking at the ladder. Was it really worth it? It meant spending a whole hour and a half dodging teachers and other students. My homework load would be massive next time—not to mention Trelawney would have my head on a stick next to her orb if she found out. I'm already behind in Divinations, but is an hour of hiding in seclusion worth it? Hell yes!

"I'm not going," I said defiantly as I slung my bag over my other shoulder, "but you have fun."

"Hang on!" Harry started his way back down the ladder, "Are you skipping?"

"Yes. Yes I am," I said, sticking my nose slightly in the air, "I've decided I deserve a break and Divinations be damned."

Harry smiled and shook his head, "I can't remember when I last skipped a class."

"Come on—it's not like we're doing anything useful. Look at it this way—we can say we had a premonition that this class would be completely pointless and an utter waste of our lives and the planetary alignment said we should be playing Exploding Snap down by the lake." I grinned. Without another word the two of us sprinted back down the tower steps just as the giant bell tolled signaling the start of class.

"Ron's gonna kill me," Harry huffed as we finally made it to the bottom stair.

"Ron's a big boy--he can fend for himself," I wheezed. I looked around, "Okay, now all we have to do is not be seen. That shouldn't be too hard—there's loads of places we can hide."

But Harry wasn't listening—instead he was rummaging around in his bag and was pulling out an old piece of parchment. I didn't pay Harry any mind until I watched him pull out his wand, clear his throat, and tap on the map, "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good."

I gaped at the parchment as a small glob of ink formed in the middle and branched off into all directions. Lines formed boxes and letter and before I knew it I was staring down at—

"The Marauders Map," Harry said proudly, "My dad helped make it when he went to school here. Fred and George Weasley gave it to me my third year to help me sneak into Hogsmeade." Harry opened it up and I gasped as I watched little dots shift around the map. Each one was labeled for a person in the school—teachers and students.

"Kick ass!" I exclaimed, reaching for the map, "Okay, so all we have to do keep an eye out for anyone who might come our way and we should be good, right?"

"Right," Harry said, "Okay—"he looked down at the map"—now most the teachers seem to be in their classrooms. We could sneak back to the common room—"

"Bzz! Wrong!" I said, finally wrenching the map from him. It was like holding trouble in your hand—I had to contain my own mischievous giggling. "We need someplace that we won't bump into anybody. Who's to say McGonagall won't come into the room at anytime?"

"Hmmm," Harry leaned over, scratching his head with the end of his wand, "We could try the third floor. I don't think it's so forbidden anymore now that the stone is gone."

"Lovely," I grinned and handed the map back to him, "Let's go."

We kept looking down at the map periodically as we made our way to the third floor. Once we came close to running into Filch, but Peeves just happened to start slinging Dungbombs at Mrs. Norris down a different corridor. There's something magical (well, not literally) about skipping classes sometimes. It always gave me a rush knowing we could be discovered at anytime. My cousin Jessie used to tell me that's how she felt when she shoplifted. Eh, to each their own, I thought. We had nearly made it to the third floor completely undetected when—

"Snape!" Harry whispered. I looked down and sure enough the tiny Snape label was approaching the t-junction in front of us we needed to cross.

"Shhh! Hide!" I hissed. We both looked around frantically for a moment before Harry noticed a door a few paces behind us. He cracked it open to get a look and grabbed a hold of my sleeve to pull me inside. Harry got the door closed just at Snape made it into the hallway. We held our breath—if Snape caught us busted wouldn't begin to describe our punishment. Harry pressed a finger to his lips and I bugged my eyes at him as if to say duh! His footsteps didn't sound like they were slowing down, but he definitely was coming our way. I looked down at the map—he was only a few feet away now and the footsteps were getting louder. I glanced over and could see a grin spreading across Harry's face. He's got more rebel in him than I thought. Harry had a flare for breaking the rules when need be—I just broke rules for the hell of it. Snape's footsteps were right in front of us…then slowly moving away and echoing down the corridor.

"Well, that was lucky," I hissed at him. Harry wasn't paying attention—his eyes were back on the map and drawing a finger along the page. I peeked over and saw who he was following—Draco Malfoy was prowling near the edge of the Forbidden Forest with Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry didn't look up, but spoke in a very haughty manner sounded like Malfoy, "You know—there aren't any teachers paroling the grounds right now. Very dangerous, you know—anything could happen."

"Why Mr. Potter, if I didn't know any better I'd say you're the one who's up to no good," I said. I jabbed Harry playfully in the sides before we crept out of the closet we'd ducked into.

Minutes later, we were edging our way between the Quidditch pitch and the forest. Malfoy and company hadn't moved since we started out. We still had nearly an hour until the bell rang—plenty of time to stir up some mayhem. We were darting in and out of the trees now being sure to stay well enough hidden in the edge of the forest. Without even looking at the map I could tell we were getting close because I suddenly caught a familiar scent.

I threw up an arm to hold Harry back, "Hang on," I sniffed the air.

Harry sniffed and wrinkled his nose, "Ug! That smells like—"

"—Cigarettes!" I hissed. The smell of cigarettes was surprising for several reasons. One, it was a shock to my system after having been relieved of the odor for several months now. Second, the only thing I'd seen wizards smoking were funky looking pipes (those had been back at the Leaky Cauldron). Third—well, it was just mind-blowing that someone as down on Muggles as Draco Malfoy would be smoking common cigarettes.

Harry verbalized my own thoughts, "Why would Malfoy be smoking?"

I shrugged, "Hey, if he wants to kill himself I wont' stop him." I looked over Harry's shoulder at the map, "And there aren't any teachers around so we couldn't get him busted if we wanted to."

Harry looked back at me with that mischievous grin, "Who says we need a teacher to get him busted?"

"Not me," I hissed, "What's the plan?"

Harry folded up the map and we crept a little closer. After a few more minutes we could hear voices and we crouched down behind a conveniently located thorny bush. We could barely see through the thorns, but it was enough to see three familiar outlines.

"—I mean, how can Muggles find these so addicting? It's ridiculous! Of course, I can see it making a profit with the right enchantments placed on them. Enhance the addiction—I bet there's a potion. I could make a fortune! Toss me another pack, Goyle."

So now Hogwarts had its first drug lord. Okay, so Malfoy was an amateur, but I could see it getting out of hand. That was one of the surprising things about Hogwarts—no drugs or alcohol (except butterbeer and you'd need about 12 of those to even get a buzz). It never even seemed to cross anyone's mind here because we all knew that someone somehow would find out about it and have us dissected and put in jars for Snape's classroom. The kids back in New York would find it old fashioned, but I found it almost purifying to know there was still a place in the world where the only high you could get was from playing pranks on your friends (and enemies) and just being in a place that made you truly happy. God, I sound like a damn Hallmark card, I thought.

Harry had his wand out at this point and was peeking his head over the shrub.

"What are you doing?" I hissed and tried pulling at his robes to get him to crouch back down.

Harry looked down at me and put a finger to his lips again—then he winked. He peeked back over and gave his wand a tiny flick. "Inhalo," he whispered.

The next thing I heard was three peopling trying to simultaneously hack up their lungs. I stuck my head up over the bush and sure enough there were Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle all bent over coughing furiously. I saw a cigarette fly out of Crabbe's mouth and realized what Harry had done—made them all inhale the smoke and the entire cigarette. I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing as we both ducked behind the bush again.

"Oooh! I got one!" I stuck my head around the side and with a quick, "Incendio," the pack of cigarettes had burst into flames at their feet. Between the coughing and the confusion Malfoy hadn't noticed that his robes were starting to catch fire. Watching him try to extinguish himself in that condition was quite amusing.

"What the bloody hell—" Malfoy wheezed once he finally got air in his lungs again and had stopped smoldering.

"Do you think a teacher…" Goyle's voice trailed off. That was the first time I'd ever heard him string more than two words together in something that closely resembled a sentence.

"Come on!" Malfoy snapped, "And leave that stuff here! It's not worth it if that's how they're going to act."

We listened for a few moments while their footsteps faded away before our laughter couldn't be contained any longer. It started out as muffled hissing and before long we were howling at the top of our lungs.

"That's how they act!" I cried, "Like it's the cigarette's fault! What an idiot!"

Harry wiped a tear from his eye, "Damn, that was fun. We should skip Divination more often."

From a distance we heard the bell toll as if the school itself had heard and was chastising us. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if it actually was, I thought. We picked our way back through the forest and towards Hagrid's cabin for our Care of Magical Creatures class.

"Reggie, have you ever smoked?" Harry asked.

The question caught me off guard. "Why?"

"I dunno. Just curious…have you?"

I looked down at the ground, suddenly very interested in the fallen tree limbs we were climbing over. "Yeah a few times." If by few you mean several. And by several you mean packs. I had actually tried it when I was thirteen and picked it up every so often when things got really crazy back home. It was stupid and I hadn't done it since I'd gotten to England. I figured every kid tried it at one point, but for some reason just admitting it out loud made me feel almost—dirty.

"But you don't anymore, right?" Harry stopped in front of me now and was giving me a weird look I hadn't seen before. I couldn't tell if he was angry or worried or what. "You haven't smoked since you got here, have you?"

"No and what's with the third degree, huh?" I said, starting to get on the defensive, "It was back in New York. It's stupid and disgusting and gross and—"

"—Because it's not good for you!" Harry exclaimed. He could see the look of surprise on my face because he sighed. "It's just—a few years ago there was a fellow in my neighborhood who died from lung cancer. I overheard my aunt and uncle talking about how the bloke had been smoking since he was a teenager."

"Okay, Mister After-school special," I said, "Look, I said I don't and I don't. I'm not going to keel over right here and now because I smoked a few back home, all right? And you've got a lot of room to talk about doing stuff that's not good for you! Three-headed dogs—chasing werewolves—ringing any bells?"

"I never chased after Lupin!" Harry exclaimed. I could tell now he was getting angry, but I didn't understand why. "I just don't want you picking up a habit like that like Mr. Jacobs did."

I rolled my eyes and smiled, hoping it would break the tension. "I'm not going to end up in an iron lung, Harry. Trust me. I'm sorry I said anything about Lupin—"

"—S'alright," Harry muttered, "but we'd better get moving if we want to get to class on time."

I followed behind Harry, still not quite sure what had just happened. It was one of our first fights and I didn't even know what it was really about. I didn't understand why me smoking would be a big deal to him. Well, because he knew somebody who died of lung cancer, dumbass. He's a friend and he cares about you! Hermione's voice suddenly rang in my head…

"You and Harry seem to be hitting it off quite well…"

Noooooo. Definitely not. Nope. There was no way I was going to let anything happen to mine and Harry's friendship—Ron and Hermione might be testing those waters, but I was damned if I was going to put a toe in. At that very moment I remembered that Valentine's Day was only two weeks away. Harry and I hade joked about going as each other's "dates" and seeing who was out with who. It just means we're going out to laugh at everyone else!

And somewhere in the back of my mind a little voice was laughing at me…