Dawn broke, and with it Remus's water glass.
"Shite! Sorry," yelped Sirius in a stage whisper, hopping on one foot and trying to tug on his robe. "Well- you know- time to get up anyway, isn't it-"
"Reparo," said Remus blearily, waving his wand in the general direction of the shattered glass and struggling to sit up. "Sirius, it's not six."
"What're you doing, smashing things this early in the morning?" mumbled James into his pillow.
Sirius was pulling on his ratty old slippers now. Remus, sitting on the edge of his bed, leant down and picked up the restored tumbler, setting it carefully on his nightstand. "I was just, you know, getting up," said Sirius. "Getting ready, I mean. For the treasure hunt. Can't be too prepared," he added, and stepped backwards into the puddle of water.
"You were pirouetting," said Peter, over Sirius's exclamations. He alone seemed to be fully awake. "I saw you. Your arm hit the glass."
"Nonsense," said Sirius firmly, plopping himself down on Remus's bed and trying to dry his sock with the wrong end of his wand. Remus, still squinting sleepily, reached over and performed the spell himself. "Delusions of a fevered mind. Pirouetting! Hah. You can't even spell the word."
"Pirouetting, hmm?" said James, finally dragging himself upright.
"P I R O U E T T I N G," said Peter pointedly.
"You're obviously very excited about this treasure hunt," said Remus. "Now get off my bed."
"I am not removing myself until you do," said Sirius comfortably, flopping back and managing to take up fully half of Remus's space. Remus, now huddled at the foot of his bed, wrapped his blanket tighter around his shoulders and tried to look cross. "Besides," added Sirius, "pirouetting or not, you can't blame me for being excited."
"Is there a particular reason you're in my bed?" persisted Remus.
"He fancies you," said James, fishing for his glasses. "Obviously."
"No, he fancies that Ravenclaw girl," said Peter.
"I was kidding," said James irritably. He found his glasses, flicked them open and settled them on his face. "I know he fancies her," he added, turning to look at them now. "That's why it's called a joke."
"What Ravenclaw girl?" said Remus.
"I vote," said Sirius suddenly, staring up at Remus's canopy, "that we go down to the common room and wait for the clue."
"Sirius," said Remus in a tired voice, "we've over an hour. What will we do? And- what girl-"
"We can play chess!" said Sirius.
"I've got Exploding Snap," offered Peter.
"Gobstones," said James.
"Well, I do have Transfiguration homework," said Remus reluctantly.
"Right!" said Sirius, sitting up and clapping Remus on the back. "We'll have a tournament or three, winner takes clue, and you can sit and be dry and boring. It'll be fun!"
"Dry and boring, hmm?" said Remus with a glint in his eye. "How about this: I will do the homework of any man who can beat me at Exploding Snap."
"That's not fair!" said Peter. "He has werewolf reflexes!"
"You're on!" said Sirius with a grin.
"Little Regulus Black," said Elspeth Evermarsh.
It was about half six and they'd arranged to meet in the prefect's bathroom. Regulus, try as he might, was not a morning person, and now he stood in the center of the floor, scrubbing his eyes and trying to look composed. Elspeth, with her smug smile and neat brown braid, was sitting primly on the edge of the enormous tub. She was neatly dressed and groomed. Regulus was lucky to have put his robes on frontways.
"Miss Evermarsh," responded Regulus cordially, trying not to sound too sleepy.
"Late night?" she said with a smirk. "You look exhausted. And your hair's sticking up in the back."
Regulus eyed her calmly and smoothed his hair down. I bet if I Stunned her, threw her in the tub and left the water running, it would be two hours before anyone found her, he thought wistfully. "Thank you," he said aloud. "I appreciate it. Have you applied the necessary spells?"
"At five this morning," she replied. "I'm glad you thought to turn an old flier into the clue rather than creating an entirely new parchment. I couldn't have done it in time otherwise."
"And I couldn't have gotten anywhere without your passwords," said Regulus, trying to sound gracious.
"Of course," said Elspeth. Internally Regulus fumed.
Suddenly a thin voice drifted through the air. "Not that anyone comes to talk to me anymore," it said, as if from a great distance. "Yours is the only voice I've heard all year . . . If you don't count eavesdropping . . ."
"Oh my God!" exclaimed Elspeth, jumping up and whirling to look at the tub. She was smoothing her robes as if she'd gotten something unpleasant on them. "Moaning Myrtle! I completely forgot! I chose this meeting place because so few students are allowed here, but I didn't even think about-"
"I know you didn't," said Regulus, a trifle impatiently. "I did."
She turned and gave him a look so incredulous he almost laughed aloud.
"I asked a friend of mine to occupy her elsewhere for the time being," he said. "As a favor. He doesn't know why, and I don't think he cares. I think what you're hearing is part of their conversation."
Sure enough, a second voice could dimly be heard echoing through the pipes. "That's terrible. I can't imagine why they wouldn't want to talk to you."
"A friend? Who? Where are they?" Elspeth looked again at the array of faucets as if they might spring at her.
"Monty Mountjoy. They're in her customary bathroom."
"Mountjoy?" she said, giving him a highly skeptical look. "Strange boy. And you trust him?"
"He's my friend," said Regulus testily. "And he knows when not to ask questions."
"Well." She glanced back at the tub one last time and then turned to face him again. "That was a good idea. I'm glad you thought of it. Imagine what could have happened if Myrtle has heard!" She laughed lightly.
"Imagine," agreed Regulus, forcing a smile.
"Well, I'll be off, then," she said. "Glad it all worked out. When shall we speak again?"
"I'll contact you," he said.
"Excellent." She smirked again. "And your hair's still sticking up." With that she swept past him and out of the bathroom.
"Now that we've established that no one can defeat me at Exploding Snap," said Remus, looking drowsy, "may I suggest some other diversion?"
"It's almost seven," said Peter.
"It is seven," said Sirius. He sat up, knelt in the playing cards and craned to see the bulletin board from where they were sitting on the floor. They were seated in a rough circle, or at least they had been until James, after his sixth defeat, had collapsed backwards and sprawled on the floor.
"It's almost time!" hissed Sirius, although there was only a scattering of Gryffindors in the common room this early. "Wake up James!"
"I think he's dead," said Peter. "James?"
"I'm dead," mumbled James, without opening his eyes.
Sirius had already vaulted over the backs of two couches and had taken up his position in front of the bulletin board. Remus took the more sedate route after him, walking around the couches instead of over them. "James is dead," he said offhandedly, standing beside Sirius. "I thought you might want to know."
"Serves him right," said Sirius vaguely, eyes fixed on the board. "Where's the clue?"
"It's one past," said Remus, scanning the board. "It should be here."
"Where is it?" Sirius demanded of the board. A few of the second-years began to stare. "It's not appearing!"
"Oh, look," said Remus suddenly. He pointed. Pinned near the bottom of the board was an aged notice sheet, formerly a Quidditch roster from two years before, now home to a single poem.
"The clue!" cried Sirius, and seized it.
"Ah-ah-ah," came a voice. Sirius and Remus both jumped and looked around, but there was no one there. "Ah-ah-ah," it said again, and they realized it was the paper speaking.
"Gah!" exclaimed Sirius, and dropped it.
"Put me back. I am free to everyone," continued the paper in pleasant tones. Remus picked it up gingerly and pinned it back to the board. "Thank you," said the paper kindly, and fell silent.
"I wasn't expecting that," said Sirius, sounding a little shaken.
"What an interesting treasure hunt," said Remus, and pulled a notebook and quill out of his pocket.
Peter appeared beside them, deck of Exploding Snap cards in one hand. "So what's the clue?" he asked brightly. "Is it here? James is dead," he added, "but he said he'll be alive by breakfast."
"The clue's right there," said Sirius, pointing. Peter leant down and read aloud.
"'Neath the windowes fast as stonne"
"Mixe with broth of eagel bune"
"Thus she broke her hallowed oath"
"and followe thee where'er thou goeth."
Peter paused. "That doesn't actually make sense," he said.
"It doesn't have to! It's a riddle!" enthused Sirius, who seemed to have gotten over his fright. "It's not supposed to make sense until Remus figures it out!"
"Me?" said Remus, writing down the final quotation marks. "Alone?"
"Of course!" said Sirius. "You're the cleverest!"
"You mean no one else has the patience," said Peter.
"I think," said Remus, "that until someone can beat me at Exploding Snap we're all going to be working on this riddle. Four heads are better than one, after all."
"You are cruel," said Sirius.
"I'm not making you do my homework," Remus reasoned.
"You're not letting us do your homework," Sirius pointed out.
"Well, I never know what kind of quality it's going to be," said Remus, smiling and tucking his notebook back into his robes. "I figure it's safer to do it myself."
"I think James is moving," said Peter. "It must be time for breakfast."
"Let's go jump on his stomach," said Sirius, and vaulted back over the couches.
"And then she said 'Your hair's still sticking up' and walked out!"
Aubrey and Regulus were sitting in the Quidditch stands, looking out over the frosty pitch. Aubrey was gazing out at the Forbidden Forest, taking in the beautiful panorama of leafless trees and grey skies, half-listening to Regulus's exclamations and ducking his emphatic hand gestures when she could. "Ravenclaws are arrogant," she said lazily. "I could have told you that before you went."
"She is unbearable," said Regulus, dropping his hands to Aubrey's relief. "Why can't I just work alone? And where is Monty?"
A flicker of annoyance crossed Aubrey's pretty countenance. "Yes, where is he? He told me he'd bring me Clarence's response."
Regulus sighed. "You're not still chasing that Saveloy idiot, are you? Aubrey . . ."
She turned her annoyed look on him. "It's none of your concern whom I write letters to, or why."
"He's a berk."
"He's rich."
They eyed each other with irritation for a moment, until the sound of footsteps cut through the chilly air. Monty Mountjoy was walking up the steps toward them. "Greetings," he said, handing Aubrey a letter and taking a seat beside Regulus.
"What took you so long?" said Regulus, as Aubrey neatly slit open her letter with her wand. "Did Myrtle hex you or something?"
"No," said Monty. "We were talking." He put his feet up on the bench in front of them and looked out across the pitch.
Regulus blinked. "What about?"
"Stealth," said Monty vaguely. "Espionage. She can hear nearly everything, you know, in some way or another."
"Fascinating, I'm sure," said Regulus dubiously. "Aubrey, what does your-"
"We got to be pretty good friends," continued Monty, in the same absent tones. "After three hours of talking. I asked her to keep an eye on things for you and not to interfere with you or Elspeth. She said she'd be delighted."
Regulus and Aubrey stared at him. "You what?" said Regulus blankly.
Monty finally turned to look at them and smiled. "Friends in high places," he said.
"Wow," said Regulus. "Well. Thank you. Very much."
"Anytime," said Monty.
"So what d'you reckon the riddle means?" asked Sirius, with his mouth full of meat pie.
Remus gave the scrap of paper a bewildered look. They were sitting at lunch now, and even though he hadn't stopped working since seven o'clock he hadn't made any progress. The Great Hall was only half-full; the rest of the students were off trying to discover the next clue themselves. "I haven't the slightest idea," said Remus. "It just doesn't work. It doesn't fit any patterns, doesn't refer to anything symbolic, doesn't actually make sense . . . The grammar is atrocious, look at all those unneccessary quotation marks . . ."
"Everyone else thinks they have it," said Peter. "They're checking the stones under all the windows, or the dungeons for eagle's bone. Some of the Ravenclaws are trailing the Grey Lady."
"I bet that's productive," said Sirius, rolling his eyes.
"Where's Lily?" asked James plaintively.
"I thought she was working on the riddle too," said Remus distractedly. He pulled out his quill and circled a word on the page.
"I haven't seen her all day," James added, looking pitiful.
"Cheer up, mate," said Sirius. "If she's fallen into a pit and died you'll never have to be rejected by her again." James moaned and put his head down.
Lily Evans was, in fact, in the library, with her copy of the riddle spread in front of her and a stack of books beside it. She was currently scouring the Reference Book of References and writing things furiously on her paper.
"They must be quotes," she said impatiently to herself, flipping pages in the enormous Book. "The quotation marks aren't a mistake, they're deliberate! But where are the quotes from?"
"What's all that noise?" came a sharp voice. Lily jumped. But when Madam Pince rounded the corner of a bookcase and saw Lily she stopped in her tracks. "Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Evans," she said apologetically. "Is everything all right?"
Lily smiled. For some reason the librarian had taken a liking to her in third year, making her one of the few students she found tolerable. "Yes, Madam Pince, I'm fine," she replied. "Just a little frustrated, that's all."
Madam Pince hesitated. "If you . . . if you need anything, just ask for assistance," she said, a trifle haltingly, as if unaccustomed to being helpful. "I'll be at the reference desk."
"Thank you," said Lily, and watched as the librarian turned and disappeared back into the maze of shelves. With a sigh she turned back to the riddle.
"'Neath the windowes fast as stonne, mixe with broth of eagel bune . . ." Remus was stretched out on his bed, eyes closed, murmuring the words to himself over and over. It was almost twilight and, as far as anyone knew, not a single student had managed to solve the puzzle. The halls were filled with whispers, rumors, hints, false clues, but no one had made any progress at all.
"We ought to send him to St. Mungo's," said Sirius, from the floor. He and James were busy plagiarising their History of Magic essays in an uncharacteristic show of studiousness. "He's gone mad. The riddle has taken over the last bits of brain that weren't lost to trivia and poetry."
"Broth of eagel bune," said Remus again, turning over the words in his mind.
"And Lily still hasn't come back," said James. "That's two meals she's missed. Do you think she's all right?"
"I don't care," said Sirius bluntly. "Remus, mate, are you all right?"
Remus's eyes flew open. "Bune," he said suddenly.
Sirius's brow wrinkled. "What?"
"Bune," said Remus, more thoughtfully this time. He turned over to look at James and Sirius but one look in his eyes told them he was a million miles away. "That's an odd spelling."
"Well, yes," said Sirius. "You're right there."
"Very odd," continued Remus, as if he hadn't heard them. But then, thought Sirius, he probably hadn't. "I've only seen it written that way once."
"It can't be unique," said Peter, who until that point had been writing a letter home to his mum. Then he hesitated. "Can it?"
"Oh, no, no, of course not," said Remus quickly, shaking his head. "That would be ridiculous. I know it's not unique. But the only time I've ever seen it written was in . . ."
There was a long pause.
"Yes?" said James.
"Oh my God." Remus sat up suddenly. "What time is it?"
"Sundown," said Sirius. "As you can see. What's wrong?"
"James, we need your cloak," said Remus. "We have to get to the Restricted Section right now."
They rushed through the corridors, Sirius, James and Remus trying to fit under a cloak made for one person. James had told Peter to stay behind to cover for them, but really, he confided once they were through the portrait hole, it was because Peter always trod on James's feet. "They're all Restricted Section books," Remus was whispering excitedly as they hurried. "All of them! It's not a poem, they're random lines chosen because they happen to rhyme! Look, this one's from Moste Potente Potions . . . This from History of Vampire Architecture and Its Influence on Wizarding Agriculture . . ."
"He's mad," hissed Sirius in James's ear.
"I know," James hissed back. "Tell him to shut it or Pince will hear."
"I can hear you perfectly well, you know," interjected Remus.
"Shh!"
James pushed open the library doors and they slipped inside. The library was empty aside from a few groups of students industriously checking window-stones for secret compartments. Shuffling along with the coordination of many years' practice, the three boys wove through the bookcases to the Restricted Section.
"It'll be somewhere in here," Remus whispered, so softly Sirius had to strain to hear him. "Not in one of the books, I don't think. Maybe stuck between them."
But when they rounded the corner and looked down the long, gloomy aisle, James gasped. A familiar redheaded girl was leaning over a lower shelf, replacing a thick leatherbound book amid a cloud of dust. There was a scrap of ancient-looking parchment clasped in her hand.
Thinking fast, Sirius and Remus clamped their hands over James's mouth before he could exclaim and yanked him back out of sight. Sirius whipped the Invisibility Cloak off them. Before he could even speak James had leapt back round the bookcase and cried "Evans! What are you doing here?"
Lily Evans smirked, actually smirked, and held up the bit of paper in her hand. "Just finding the next clue," she said.