AN:
Hello everyone!
I know I'm the worst author ever, but I looked at what I had written for this chapter and I hated everything. So I rewrote again and again and I hated all that too. I still don't think this turned out quite the way I was wanting but I felt I kept you all waiting for too long already. So here it is.
Forgive me, it's short and quite choppy, but even though it's probably awful next chapter will be better.
So, I hope you enjoy but feedback is always appreciated.
If it hadn't been Remus' idea, Rose knew she'd be having some very serious doubts right about now. Remus was acting like the good little prefect he hardly ever was, getting ready to go on his weekly patrol with Lily. Thus neatly clearing him from any prior wrongdoing. James naturally, was taking this opportunity to act like he didn't care one way or another about the proximity and friendliness that their fellow Marauder was about to share with his One True Love (yes, Rose was quoting), and last Rose had seen him was sulking in Gryffindor Tower while pretending to read the Evening Prophet. Of course, the fact Peterthat it was upside-down rather gave his nonchalance away. Peter, the poor clueless soul, was stuck in detention with the Slug - his wand had been the only one still out after the rather hilarious prank that saw the Slug's impressive walrus moustache come to a life of its own and start wobbling on his lip while sending a cascade of powdered sugar covering every available surface like a mini blizzard. This all meant that Sirius was free and clear to fulfill his arguably most crucial role in their upcoming scare the living shit out of Snape prank. Concealed as she was behind a rather helpful magical wall that wasn't really a wall at all, Rose had a perfect view. Sirius slouched on the wall just a few yards away from the spare dungeon Snivellus used for his practice potioneering. Arms folded across his chest and legs crossed at the ankles, he was the very image of careless elegance - bloody gorgeous as well. Roughly ten minutes after she'd gotten into position, Snape emerged from his hole like the grease-dripping snake he was, falling instantly into Sirius' trap. Sirius, for once emulating the master manipulator that his family had tried to forge him into, played his part to Marauder perfection. His gorgeous grey eyes glittered with the kind of malevolence only Snape or members of the Black family ever earned, but the faint timbre of his voice was as even and innocent as it was around the other members of Gryffindor. Snape, blinded by his single-minded hatred of the Marauders and his jealous desire to see them expelled (or dead, it mattered to him as much as his life matter to them), bought it hook, line and sinker. Sirius strolled away first, casually commenting about having a life and a gorgeous girlfriend to get back to (he said the sweetest things), leaving Snape practically salivating behind them.
Those soulless black eyes glittered with malicious glee, as if he could see all his dreams coming to fruition. With his sallow skin and hooked nose, the expression made him look cruel and almost inhuman - rather fitting for a Slytherin, especially one as loathsome as Snivellus. Rose waited until he had gone (leaving a trail of grease in his wake like an oversized slug), then crept out of hiding and set off to find Sirius. Curfew was dangerously close to being upon them, but Rose was a Marauder for Merlin's sake, as if she gave a flying flobberworm about such a stupid and arbitrary rule as a curfew. Besides, with the rules they were about to flamboyantly steamroll over, the tiny insignificant detail of breaking curfew was essentially a nonentity. And, as the entire castle was painfully aware, the rules had never applied to the Marauders anyway.
On the night of the Full Moon, the Marauders slipped out into the grounds. The bait had been laid, the trap prepared. Sirius was waiting in the Shack with Remus, ready to keep Moony from doing something Remus would regret. Rose waited with an unusually nervous Peter near the Shrieking Shack, hidden in the tunnel (in their animagus forms) with disillusionment charms. James (the stupid, noble, brave bastard) had the most dangerous job; he waited in position under the Cloak, ready to spring into action to 'save' Snivellus' worthless skin. It was a job he had loudly and stubbornly insisted upon. He was, regrettably, correct. Out of all of the Marauders (Remus excepted), James was the fasted and the strongest - capable of getting out of the tunnel with Snape quickly enough in case their plan failed spectacularly and Moony would be hot on their heels. The only question that remained was whether or not Snivellus' desire to end the Marauders would allow him to fall for the bait as Rose was almost certain he had. If he told the Professors, they were finished, but somehow none of the Marauders (not even Remus) thought that he would. Snape wanted to be the one to catch them out red-handed. It was personal; his pride would be his downfall. Not theirs. Of that, Remus had been most insistent upon. James had shrugged and said that if Snivelly didn't fall for their plan, he'd just hunt him down and hex the living daylights out of him. Sirius had then suggested doing that anyway, as if they couldn't be too careful. He had almost had James persuaded, until Remus had slapped the backs of their heads and reminded them that this prank was his to plan - and they could answer to Moony if they did anything to mess it up. Rose took a deep breath, pushing back the faint trace of worry that lingered. She trusted Remus - if she was honest, in this she trusted him more than she would have trusted James or Sirius in their planning - but it seemed somehow almost too easy. If everything went well, Snape would undoubtedly be terrified stupid and unlikely to try and sneak up on Moony again. On the other hand, Rose failed to see how this prank, safe as it was, could possibly earn them any favours with Dumbledore. Honestly, they'd be lucky not to be expelled, let alone invited to join Dumbledore's special army of freedom fighting wombles or whatever the heck James said the were called.
A howl echoed down the tunnel from the Shrieking Shack, the moon full and dangerously bright above the Scottish scenery. Everyone was in their places, it was time for a little light revenge, Marauder style.
Barely aware through the omnipresent urge to hunt and attack, Moony was worried. Here in this place of old torment and pain, the scent of his Pack was dulled. Moony didn't like that, Pack was supposed to surround him, Pack always had. Pack was all that kept him sane during the Moon. Tangy-smell/old-hide/packmate Padfoot was the only one he could scent nearby. Small, chittering Wormtail had skittered out before Moony came to play, as had forest-scent/sad-eyes Prongs. Flower, starlight Astra hadn't even seen Moony change, not that she ever did; but neither had she joined them after he changed as she always did. Pack wasn't here, Pack should be here. Moony wanted Pack. He missed his pack, howling at the no-stars-not-sky to call them to him. Distantly, from somewhere in the fog of what was his human side, he remembered that Pack was attacking rival pack, enemy-scent tonight. But Moony wanted to be right there in the thick of it. As Moony howled his challenge, his nose twitched. Grease-anger/hot-jealousy/enemy-pack was nearby. Called not by the promise of human blood, but of vengeance upon an invader, Moony sprang forward. He tore through the house, diving down into the tunnel Pack always walked through. Moony liked walking under the stars with pack, enemy-pack would stop that. Well not if Moony had anything to say about it. Just ahead, the bitter scent of snake intensified. Black eyes and the tang of fear filled Moony's senses, blood lust raging through him. Attack, tear, kill. Drive off the intruder. Defend territory. Marauder Pack belonged here, not Snake Pack. He lunged forward again, going for the throat, going in for the kill. Moony bounced off something that was nothing that smelled like his flower-scent packmate. He growled in confusion, then howled in anger. Enemy-pack was gone. So was faint-scent of Prongs.
While Astra bodily blocked Moony from chasing down Snivellus and ripping his worthless, slimy guts out, James was risking his neck far worse. There was no way in Merlin's magical Avalon that Moony would hurt James tonight, their plans were too well thought out for that - it was just he was certain that he deserved some sort of commendation for dealing with Snivelly in this mood. He'd take the Order of Merlin, third class even - he wouldn't be greedy. With barely a flicker of thought, James sent a message patronus to Sirius, telling him that he had everything under control - and that he should deal with Moony before the werewolf managed to escape from under Astra's watchful eye.
Snivellus was kicking and screaming, terrified stupid, promising expulsion, Azkaban; anything that came into his hysterical, grease stained mind. Somewhat at a loss as to what to do with the slimy git (and quietly hoping he was having a breakdown severe enough to land him in the permanent ward at St Mungo's funny farm, although Merlin knew they weren't going to be that lucky), James punched Snivellus square in the hooked nose, then aimed a powerful knockout jinx at him for good measure. Snape hit the dirt more heavily than Grimhorn trying to evade the nifflers Sirius 'introduced' into his classroom. James shuddered at the noises (wails really) that continued to escape from the grease-dripping hooked nose, then shrugged and smirked wickedly, absently wiping his hand as he did so. It was the work of ten seconds to truss Snape up and suspend him from the nearest non-sentient tree. He would be damned if he was going to let Remus go through having to attack the malicious git. Especially after all they'd gone through tonight to make sure that didn't happen. While a good biting would undoubtedly help Snivelly's personality some, it wasn't worth the health risk to Moony. Godric only knew what diseases the grease-stained git was infected with. With another shrug, and a final smirk at the ugliest post-Christmas ornament ever, James winked at the moon and transformed into Prongs. Regardless of what tomorrow brought, tonight was still the Full Moon; Moony would need them more than ever, and Prongs was bloody well going to be there.
Wormtail chittered curiously, attracting the attention of Moony, Padfoot and Astra. Astra turned and sighed with relief. She'd lost count of the number of times that she and Padfoot had been scratched, tackled, bitten, stomped on, thrown into walls, tossed on the floor, etc. Moony was truly in fine fettle tonight, taking his frustrations out (quite rightly) on them. Prongs trotted in, hazel eyes downcast. Astra felt a little spark of worry. Their human feelings were normally muted when in their animagi forms, but not so tonight. Tonight felt different - perhaps because tonight was the first time that their pack was putting itself in line for discovery by someone smart enough to see them for what they were (if Dumbledore asked, they wouldn't lie - couldn't, they promised Remus that a long time ago). But, by the looks of it, Prongs had dealt with the Snivellus Situation, and they now had the rest of the night ahead of them. Tonight could still turn out like so many of their wonderful, barmy nights exploring under a starlit sky. Still, Rose felt uneasy. Prongs was never like this; he could never afford to be like this, not with how empathetic Moony was about their pack. Padfoot literally leapt upon the opportunity to catch Prongs unawares, huffing a woof of mischievous glee as they rolled over and over on the scuffed wooden floor. Everything was uncertain right now, but Rose couldn't help but inwardly smile at the sight of them all. No matter what the aftermath of tonight's slightly toned down prank on Snape would be, there wasn't a single doubt in the world that they'd face it together. That being said, it was still the Full Moon, and it was time to have some fun.
Instinctively knowing better than to risk the trip to Hogsmeade tonight of all nights (there were some limits even they were smart enough not to push - on occasion), the Marauders escaped the confines of the Shrieking Shack for the relative peace of the opposite side of the Black Lake. Bane and Ronan emerged from the trees to give the cavorting quintet disapproving glares, but were smart enough to retreat at Moony's challenging howl. No creature in their right mind would attack a werewolf on full moon - especially not a werewolf surrounded by its pack. Barking gleefully, Padfoot tackled Prongs into Moony, the trio rolling into the shallow waters of the lake's edge. Moony yelped and barrelled back to dry land, growling at the inaudible laughter of Padfoot and Prongs. The werewolf, like Remus, hated getting wet without warning, which explained why Remus was so pissed off when he tripped over Peter and toppled headfirst into the other side of the lake before Halloween. Feeling familiarly mischievous, Rose trotted over to the chuckle brothers, casually pushing them back into the icy water. Moony shot her a grin, a trace of Remus' own personality coming through as it often tended to do. Padfoot got his revenge by shaking the icy water all over her, grinning smugly at her. If a dog could smirk, Rose was sure that would be what Padfoot would be doing right now. After that, they tripped merrily into the Forest, determined that this would be the time when they finally rediscovered the acromantula lair. They'd found Aragog once by accident (being in their animagus forms had actually saved their lives) but had never been able to replicate the feat. If they were going to get expelled (which was probably highly likely, but definitely worth it for the sheer pants-wetting terror on Snivelly's face), they wanted to at least see it one more time.
The Marauders stayed deep in the Forbidden Forest for as long as they could. Deep in their hearts lay a single uncertainty. Dumbledore. Would he listen to their explanation? Or would the mistaken threat to the safety of his students override his unshakable belief in the right of everyone to a second chance, a fair hearing? They simply didn't know. Marauders didn't like not knowing - as the smartest in their year (possibly in the entire school), it went entirely against the grain. And so they hid out in the forest, ignoring the moon setting, the sun rising. It wasn't until Remus finally crept out from the tree he'd hidden behind to change back that they knew their time was up. With heavy hearts and weary treads, they set their course back towards the castle. By now, Snape would have woken up and found his way back to the castle to spill his greasy guts right to Dumbledore. It was a testament to the severity of the situation that they didn't so much as divert to the kitchens for breakfast. By a silent consent, all five Marauders walked with their heads high to face their fate - for better or worse.
Thank you for reading.
Next up: the aftermath.
Please review. And I hope you're all safe and well.