Wow. It's been like, what, almost a month since I updated. CRAZY! I know. Silly me. Silly grounded me. Heheeee.
Goth Hampster: wow, thanks. Im glad you think im that good. I feel happy now. Thanks again! Keep reviewing!
LearlaarSiJa oh, have no fear, there is plenty of James/Sirius friendship to go around. I just always have to establish that Lily/Sirius friendship in my stories. Ive noticed that I have a very set way of how I see characters' relationships with each other, and I always set it up. Lily's opportunity just happened to come first here. But I promise, James is much more important in the story. Hooray for James!
SporkPrincess the only thing I have to say is that is an amazing sugar high. Amazing.
brennQT I might just be retarded, but I definitely based Narcissa being good mostly on her hair color. That sounds really gay, I know. But behold the explanation! Even tho you probably don't care. Mwuahaha. Black seems to be the choice hair color for the Black family. Hehe. So most of them are bad little critters, are they not? Yes they are! We even think that Sirius is bad until the end of the third book. Black represents darkness and evil also. So when one thinks of gold (blond) one might think of something a little more pure. Narcissa's hair is a very light blond. Because of her hair color, it seems to me that in her own way she too is a "white sheep". So there you go. Also, I make her good because I make Draco good. I refuse to think of Draco as all bad. Sure, he can be a little prick, but he can still have a good heart deep down. So if Lucius is an evil bastard, good influence has to come from somewhere. His mother…why I do think so! Horray! Haha, anyways, happy reading. Oh, and one day James will have Lily, but we all know that. The question is….how? heheee.
I might just be hyper right now yall. How silly. Review!
Chapter 3
The sun had yet to hit the horizon that second week of the fall term at Hogwarts. It was early Saturday morning, and no one would be up for hours to come. Every sane person on the premises was still tucked comfortably into his velvet comforter and silk sheets, curtains drawn together to keep out the soon to arrive light. Even the owls were sleeping.
Inside the darkness of his bed, Sirius Black snuggled up with his pillows, unconsciously enjoying the sleep and the fine fabrics around him. He muttered some happy thought that passed through his head, and his closed eyes failed to notice the small orb of light just visible through his curtains.
With a loud crack and a burst of light, James Potter burst through the curtains yelling, "Sirius!"
The formerly slumbering teen's eyes shot open, he jumped up so high he nearly hit the ceiling, and he screamed out, "FUCKING A!" as his head connected with the headboard. James fell back onto his haunches cackling madly. "James," Sirius growled, "what the hell is the matter with you? It's—" he looked at his clock "—fucking five in the morning. Saturday morning, at that!"
Recovering, James removed his glasses and wiped them clean. Placing them back on his face, James offered Sirius a smirk and held up his broom.
"Shit," Sirius muttered as he rolled out of the bed. He began rummaging through the piles of dirty clothes that littered the boys' dorm. "Prongs, where did you throw my pants?"
"That could be taken very wrong," Remus muttered from his bed. "And Prongs, thanks for your consideration of the fact that not all of us are on the Quidditch team or can sleep through a hurricane."
"I do what I can, Moony," James called back as he pulled out a pair of Quidditch pants from a pile to throw at his friend. Sirius began to walk out of the room, his shirt halfway on and hopping as he attempted to fit on his boots. James rolled his eyes and grabbed Sirius's broom before heading out after him.
James was the newly appointed Gryffindor Quidditch captain this year, and he was determined to have the best team, no matter how much they complained in the mornings. After he had stuck his head in the other boys' dorms, he sent an owl up for the girls. As Sirius sat on the couch adjusting his shin guards, he asked, "You reckon Padfoot could make it up those stairs?"
"Padfoot," James asked. "Prong would have better luck."
"Distance wise, true," Sirius said, "but you forget the antlers." Sirius gestured to the girls' stairs with his head. James turned and noted the hanging chandelier. His antlers would defiantly get caught in the low light fixture.
"Do you think we'd even have to jump," James asked, "being animals and all." Sirius shrugged but cut the conversation short upon hearing footsteps on the stairs.
James and Sirius led the way out to the Quidditch pitch. They stopped in the center of the field and turned to observe the remaining team members. There had been no sixth years on the team last year, so the two Marauders were the oldest. They had lost a Seeker and a Chaser that year. "Right," James said clapping his hands together, "we've got lots of work to do, gang."
Sirius rolled his eyes and laid back onto his broom, hovering a few feet off the air. James had been planning this speech out all the last week of summer. Sirius was sure he knew it better than the captain did. Soon James began the portion of his speech where rambling began, so Sirius interrupted, "James, shut up."
James offered him a quick frown before mounting his broom. "Let's ride," he yelled as Sirius let out a wild war cry. The team shot up into the air and spent the next three hours zigging and zagging through the air. They landed later covered in sweat.
"I'd make them run," Sirius said as they headed to the locker rooms for showers.
"Run," James snorted. "What the hell's running got to do with Quidditch?"
"A fat ass can't fly fast, Prongs," Sirius said removing his shirt and draping it over his back, carefully hiding his scars. James looked like he was seriously contemplating Sirius's words.
"It's a good idea, Padfoot," he finally said, removing his own shirt and wiping his face with it, "but we don't need to worry about any of their weight issues. There's like three girls. Girls always worry about their weight. Besides, I don't need any of them hating me, especially not this soon."
Sirius shrugged. "Well, I'm going to hit up my idea," he said throwing his broom at James. "I'll see you in the Hall." He pulled on a pair of shorts and walked back down to the pitch. After stretching and performing a number of push ups, Sirius transfigured his shin and arm guards into weights. He popped his knuckles and neck and took off.
Sirius entered the Great Hall about an hour later wearing a fresh part of pants, a wife beater and a towel slung around his neck. He sat down in between Remus and James and shook his head. Water flew in every direction.
"Dammit, Padfoot," James growled taking off his glasses. "Stupid mutt," Remus agreed. Sirius flashed them his cocky grin and dove into his meal.
"Did you really go running," James asked.
"Why no, Prongs," Sirius said seriously. "I sat and contemplated life and how I could better worship the name of Slytherin before I accidentally fell in to the lake."
"Really," Peter asked after a few seconds. Sirius shot him a dirty look. "Oh. So, why go running right after Quidditch," the chubby boy asked.
Sirius's brows rose. He gestured to his well toned body. "This isn't all natural, you know. I need to keep my girlish figure," he said taking a dainty bit of his eggs. Remus rolled his eyes and yawned greatly.
"Moon," James noted.
"Two days," Remus replied.
"Sweet," James said, forcing his voice to squeak oddly. Remus, quite used to the odd sounds James was prone to make, shot him a dirty look. "Not like that," James said. "I mean, you know, the—er—"
"Just give up, Prongs," Sirius said. "We'll all do better if you just don't talk."
"Look who's talking," James snapped. "McGonagall almost suspended you from Quidditch yesterday because of your great trap."
"She wouldn't have really done it," Sirius said lazily. "And you know it."
James made a face. "What a BA," he mocked and then shrugged. "I'd have bugged her until she took the punishment off." Sirius smirked. "We've lost enough of the unity we had last year with Sulivan and McPeters gone. I'm not looking forward to training that Westheimmer nut."
"Well," Sirius said, "at least you don't have to worry about Charlie Weasley. That kid's got talent. You give him a few years, and I think he could go pro no problems."
"Thank God," James said. "You can't train a Seeker. That's all natural talent."
"Can we talk about something other than Quidditch," Remus asked exasperatedly. "It gets really boring for the rest of us."
Normally, the others would have told him to get over it, but Remus was holding his head in his hands. The full moon was quickly approaching, and it was probably in their best health not to anger the werewolf.
Two nights later, three of the four Marauders silently walked through the halls of Hogwarts huddled under James's Invisibility Cloak. It was no easy task. None of the boys were in the least small; Peter was short but chunky, and James and Sirius tall and well built, although Sirius was more slender.
"Shit, Peter," James hissed. "Watch your feet."
"Sorry," Peter muttered. Sirius hissed for silence. The boys quickly shuffled to the wall and pressed themselves against it. James and Peter watched the Map with bated breaths over Sirius's shoulders. The lurking form of Flitch was slowly approaching from around the corner.
"Deploy unit," Sirius whispered. James quickly ducked down and placed a small item on the floor. He tapped it with his wand, and the toy like object took off down the corridor. It let out a loud squeal as it passed Flitch. The greasy man took off after it with a growl. James and Sirius smirked and hit their fists together.
"Come on," Sirius said motioning the other two forward. They rushed for the front doors of the castle and snuck out. Sirius immediately transformed into Padfoot and took off madly across the grounds to the Willow, James and Peter following at a more reasonable pace.
Padfoot trotted happily up the stairs of the Shrieking Shack to the top floor bedroom. He could hear the shuffling of feet—paws, rather—and a low growling noise. Moony was in the house. Padfoot nudged the door open with his muzzle and stepped inside. Indeed, the werewolf was pacing about the room, its gold eyes narrowed dangerously. "Hey, Moony, one moth, no see," Padfoot mentally said.
The boys had discovered that in their animal forms, they had a way of communication. It was a strange mental link able to be controlled. If they wanted the others to hear them, they would. If they wanted a thought kept private, no one would ever know about it. McGonagall certainly had not mentioned it in the Animagus unit.
"Shut up, Padfoot," Moony snapped. Somehow, the werewolf was also able to communicate with them, despite the fact that he was not an Animagus. Moony was also a bit more hostile once a month. Padfoot made a move as if to shrug.
The door burst wide open, and a great stag entered, its antlers barely able to fit through the doorway. "Dammit," Prongs exclaimed. "They always hit."
The tiny rat on the stag's shoulder stood on its hind legs and turned its beady eyes to the door way. "You're starting to leave marks, Prongs," Wormtail noted.
"I'm leaving marks," Prongs said stomping his hooves, "That damn door's gonna mess up my antlers."
"Get over yourself, Prongs," Padfoot yawned shaking madly.
"Personally, I'd say your all a bit conceded," Moony said, his fur bristling and bushy tail flinging about. "Let's get out of here. I need out."
Padfoot howled in agreement, and the four animals burst out of the room and down the winding stairs. Padfoot and Moony exited first, and the werewolf immediately jumped the great dog.
"Ever notice how Moony replaces you once a month," Wormtail noted at the wrestling canines.
"Have you ever seen a stag wrestle, Wormtail," Prongs asked with a cocked head.
Wormtail gave it a bit of thought. "No." The stag nodded. "Exactly."
"Besides," Moony said as he squirmed our from under Padfoot, "James and Sirius are sure to be rolling all over the Common Room over God only knows before lunch."
"Moony speaks many truths," Padfoot barked.
Moony, raised a hind leg and began to scratch behind his ear madly. "Don't even think about biting," Prongs warned thrashing his antlers. Moony snorted and walked over to a tree. He ripped off a low branch and began to chew.
"Prongs, this isn't any fun. We're just sitting here," Wormtail complained from a rock.
"Give Moony a few minutes," Prongs said. "Once he's demolished the stick, we can do something. I say we hit up the Forest again."
Padfoot agreed with Wormtail. He was bored. He needed movement. Bringing up a leg, he began to scratch his ears. Then he fell onto his back and wiggled around. Looking up, his eyes noticed his tail. With a doggy smirk, Padfoot rolled over into his stomach, ready to pounce. He eyed the flicking appendage and leapt up. Running in circles, the dog attempted to catch his tail in his jaws.
"Jesus Christ," Prongs moaned. "Moony, hurry up. Padfoot's chasing his tail again."