A/N:
Hi everyone!
Please enjoy!
Uneventful was the word to describe the rest of the weekend. Sunday passed by in a blur of sleep, last minute homework, and a just-for-appearances prank on the Slytherin house perpetrated not long after everyone had gone to bed that night. Monday morning saw the Slytherins trudging into the Great Hall, each and every one casting a dark glare over at the Marauders. Rose personally thought that this was a bit unfair. Nobody could prove conclusively that the Marauders had been the ones to orchestrate the prank upon them. Just because it was highly likely given their reputations, didn't mean that they had. Of course they had, but it was rude to accuse them without proof. All they were doing was sitting at the top of the Gryffindor table, pointing and laughing at every new wonder of their prank revealed.
It was third year pranking, touched up a bit for their improved educational level. Instead of putting super glue in their shampoo as they would have done three or four years ago, they had demonstrated that Snape wasn't the only one that could brew a brilliant potion. All of the unsuspecting snakes that weren't wearing an imaginative variety of head wear (including homemade beanies, deerstalkers, shower caps, and one memorable floral bonnet), were wincing in embarrassment as their hair flashed so many colours that a paint shop wouldn't have enough swatches to match them all.
Peter stared at one of the unfortunate students, a second year whose hair appeared to be stuck on an alarming shade of fuchsia. Rose normally wouldn't care about this, but Peter had been in the middle of drinking a goblet of pumpkin juice when the poor second year in question caught his attention. Peter squeaked, the front of his robes now soaked in the contents of his goblet.
James looked at him, mirth lighting up his eyes as it always had. "You really are a sharply honed twit, Peter" he announced, his old smirk gracing his face.
"You never said it would be that awful, Prongs" Peter spluttered, waving his wand to dry the mess.
"It's a prank, Peter" Sirius drawled, rolling his grey eyes. "By it's very definition, it ought to be awful."
"I hate to be the group pedant, Padfoot" Remus said, his tone saying anything but. "But a prank is actually by it's very definition a practical joke. Therefore, my old chap, it is in fact meant to be funny, not awful."
Sirius smirked, his eyes dancing. "Awfully sorry, old thing. Terribly. Do forgive me."
Remus turned to Sirius, a friendly kind of annoyance sparkling in his gaze. "Don't get sarcastic with me, Sirius Black-"
"Post!" Rose cried, cutting them off before it could devolve into the second food fight in a week.
"Jolly good" James grinned, never one to drop a skit when it was still amusing to them.
"You're a hoot, Prongs" Sirius said, an owl landing before James exactly as he said so. James glowered at Sirius, one corner of his lips twitching. He paid the owl for delivering the Prophet, and leaned gracefully away as the owl took off, snatching a sausage as it departed.
"One of these days, your love of appalling puns is going to get you both into trouble" Remus remarked, paying his own owl and unfurling his paper so he could be shielded from the idiocy of the supposed geniuses.
"And they'll probably make a pun about it" Peter agreed, idly examining the small stack of letters he had received.
Rose cheerfully ignored them, Hermes preening before her. Her barn owl dropped a letter in front of her, helping himself to some fresh bacon from her plate. She absently stroked his back, letting him drink his fill from a water goblet before gently ushering him off the table and back to wherever he went when he wasn't in her dormitory. Only when Hermes was safely airborne, did Rose lift up her letter. The familiar cursive made her grin brilliantly. "It's from Dad!" Violet eyes flickered down the table, where Lily was opening her own letter. Judging from the flowery writing and bright green ink, it had to be from their mother. Quills and bright ink were some of the few wizarding world things that Violet Evans enjoyed enough to use on a regular basis. She knew it was more innocent than Jim's obsessions, which had ended up with various joke supplies cluttering one of the benches in his garage. He loved trying to figure out how they worked, as well as watching the biting teacups try to attack one another.
"Jim wrote?" James put his elbows on the table, leaning forward as far as he was able to. "Jim hardly ever writes." There was a thudding noise from under the table, James yelping in a rather undignified way. Sirius smiled innocently, raising his mug to his lips to hide the smirk Rose knew was trying to break out on his handsome face.
"Jim alright?" Sirius asked, his tone light. He was worried about her father, but he wasn't going to force her to reveal anything she didn't want or wasn't ready to.
Rose skimmed the letter, ignoring the usual cheerful things her father added in to make the letter seem like anything other than his usual checking in with her. "Uh, telly's getting worse. Dad misses the Sweeney-"
"Don't we all" Peter muttered, inordinately fond of that show. James did the honours of kicking him this time, Peter scowling across at him.
"Oh" Rose breathed, finally seeing the point of the letter.
Remus nudged his shoulder into hers gently. "You okay, Astra?"
Rose cleared her throat, looking up from the letter. "Tuney got back from her honeymoon on Saturday. Vernon wanted to get straight home to prepare for work today I suppose, so Tuney went back home to Cokeworth by herself."
"Did your parents tell her?" Sirius asked gently, James already glancing down the table to see how Lily was receiving whatever news their mother had seen fit to write her.
Rose nodded mutely, taking her time to read what her father had said on that matter. "Tuney- Tuney didn't take it well" she managed, blinking to dislodge the haze before her eyes. "Dad says she, uh, she blames Lily and I. Says she screamed that if we weren't such freaks, then Dad wouldn't have some illness that defies any and all explanation and treatment by modern medicine." Rose wished there was something in her father's letter that she could laugh at, but Jim seemed to have decided to make good on his promise not to hide anything important from them any longer. "In short, Petunia thinks that Dad has a weird wizarding infection, and that Lily and I gave it to him. Because she just didn't have a good enough reason to hate us before."
"That's impossible" James snarled, catching sight of Lily's closed off expression not ten people from him. "The chances of any of us carrying a disease like that and then passing it on to Jim are ludicrously slim. There's more chance of humankind walking on the surface of Mars tomorrow than there is of that happening."
"Dad doesn't believe it, Jamie" Rose shrugged, resignation masking the small, sad part of her that wondered why her sister hated them so much. "Petunia's just scared and laying the blame at the feet of her favourite freakish scapegoats. Anything to not have to face the fact that her beloved normal world is incapable of dealing with something as unique as whatever Dad has."
Sirius smiled sadly at her, eyes soft and gentle. "Does Jim say how he is doing?"
"Ha!" Rose snorted, the sound not entirely without mirth. "You know Dad. Typical British bloke. Never says a bloody word about how he's feeling or doing. Stiff upper lip. You could get more information out of a rock, or an uncommunicative goblin."
"I've heard that goblins can be very communicative creatures" Remus remarked, his levity hanging in the air for a brief moment.
Rose scrubbed her hand across her face, utterly exhausted and it was still breakfast. "Godric, I need a drink" she groaned, just not able to deal with everything right now.
"No you don't" Sirius smirked, apparently feeling that it was best to carry on as if everything was Marauder business as usual. "If I can't drink because Regulus is a complete and utter sodding plonker, then you can't drink because Petunia is continuing to demonstrate how much of a shrewish hag she is."
"Apples and oranges?" Rose offered lamely, not believing it in the least.
"No, they're not" Sirius smiled, shaking his head fondly. His hair was growing back down to his preferred longer length, and it settled perfectly as he just twitched his head a little. "Now, oh studious Moony, keeper of the dreaded timetable, what class are we skiving off first?"
"It's Charms" Remus replied sternly. "And we're not skiving off anything. It's the runup to the exams now. We can't afford to miss anything that could potentially be of use in our final examinations."
"We're not sitting the NEWTs until next year, Moons" James pointed out, finishing off a piece of toast with a flourish.
"And we won't be then either" Remus hissed, daring them to ignore him. "Not if we don't sodding well pass our sixth year exams. So forgive me, Prongs, if I want to actually have the best possible chance of being able to graduate next school year."
"What a responsible little womble" Peter cooed, hugging Remus for a fleeting second.
Remus raised his fork threateningly. "Last chance" he warned, eyes glinting in danger. "Finish your breakfast, laugh at the pretty colours adorning the Slytherin house students. Do not hug, coo, or otherwise inflict yourself upon me until we are walking to our Charms lesson."
As Marauders, there was only one response they could give to that. They smirked wickedly, turning wide-eyed innocent gazes upon Remus. "Yes, Professor Lupin!"
If Transfiguration with McGonagall was the most challenging but rewarding class at Hogwarts, and Defence with Grimhorn (and most of his predecessors) was one of the most laughable, then Charms with tiny Professor Flitwick was definitely among the most enjoyable. Charms was tricky but there was a sort of innocent, mischievous fun about it that resonated with ninety percent of the student population. Today was no exception. Flitwick stood up on the books on his chair, beaming excitedly around at them all. "Good morning, Class!"
"Good morning, Professor Flitwick!" the class all chorused, most of them grinning brightly back at him. After McGonagall, Flitwick was generally considered to be everyone's favourite professor still teaching at Hogwarts. Dumbledore didn't count, as he was their headmaster and didn't actually teach any of the classes offered on the school curriculum.
Flitwick smiled cheerfully. "Today, we shall be continuing our work on transforming vinegar into wine."
Peter slumped back into his chair and groaned, obliterating whatever Flitwick was continuing to say on the subject.
"Cheer up, Wormtail" James grinned, a touch of mischief in his eyes. "You might not manage to turn your vinegar into ice and have it explode this time."
"Or I could try it on your goblet, Prongs" Peter threatened, waving his wand to illustrate his point.
"Play nice, boys" Rose chided, almost tempted to laugh at their antics. "Or this time Flitwick really will make you sit on opposite sides of the room."
"I am the very soul of good behaviour, Lady Astra" James sniffed, puffing out his chest in the way that people tended to do to make themselves look important. "It's that irritating little berk of a rat over there that misbehaved."
"So Pete's more Marauderish than you" Sirius teased, immediately pouncing on James's careless statement. James demonstrated his maturity by showing Sirius the V's, sticking his tongue out for good measure. "Don't make me make you play nicely" Sirius warned smugly, his smirk daring James to try it.
Peter snickered, only to have Sirius turn his glare on him. "Sorry, Padfoot. Sorry, Prongs" he muttered sheepishly, still partially the pushover they knew and loved.
Rose metaphorically rubbed her hands together. It no longer mattered that skiving off class and going to Hogmeade for a stiff drink or ten was off the table. Flitwick's curriculum had sorted that little problem out for her perfectly. All she had to do was turn her vinegar into wine, and then she had a suitably alcoholic beverage to help take the edge off the seething cauldron of doubt, confusion and worry that bubbled within her. On the pretext of examining her textbook for reference, Remus leaned over. "If you're considering drinking that vinegar once you've turned it into wine, I feel I should warn you that it'll be very bitter and probably disgusting."
"Only if I don't do it properly, Remmy" Rose replied with forced cheer. "And even if it is bitter, don't you think it'll still suit me perfectly?"
"Petunia's got you upset again, hasn't she?" Remus observed, wisely sidestepping the landmine Rose had planted before him.
Rose favoured him with a look that said 'what do you think?'. "We got along so much better at her wedding."
"Which was the happiest day of her life, and when Lily had brokered a truce for the three of you" Remus reminded her with the logic that only he could ever deliver. "Not when she had just had the news of your father's, er, condition sprung upon her. And certainly not when she was hurting and surprised." Remus took her hand. "Hey" he said, something in his voice pleading with her to listen to him. "Petunia needs someone to blame for this, you said that yourself."
"I know that, Rem" Rose snapped, keeping her voice quiet through the little control she still felt. "But why can't she blame Dad like the rest of us?"
"You blame Jim?" Remus spluttered, eyes flying wide open. "Rose-"
"He's the one who got sick, Remus" Rose stated firmly. "He didn't tell us about it until he knew it was useless. And" she added, feeling suddenly like the seven year old girl who had first been called a freak for impossibly stopping a glass from shattering on the floor. "He's my Dad. It's not supposed to be like this."
"Rosie" he began, suddenly grateful that James and Sirius were teasing Edgar for already having done what they termed a Peter (blown up the ice vinegar). "You're seventeen, you can't still think your father is indestructible."
"Believe me, Rem, I know that better than most" Rose sighed, trying to find words to describe what was going on in her head this time. It hit her, a way that Remus might just understand. "I'm fighting a war on two fronts, Remus" she said helplessly. "And as any student of muggle history will tell you, that means I'm bound to lose on at least one of them."
"Not if we have anything to say about it, Rose" Remus breathed, noticing James and Sirius about to lose interest in heckling the Hufflepuff prefect. "You have a whole army fighting with you on one of those fronts, and a lot more of them than you realise are on your side on the other front as well."
"I know I'm not alone, Remmy" Rose smiled, feeling the warm glow in her chest at his words. "But I am a realist. Even having all my Marauders, Lily and an entire army on my side on both of the fronts, I know there's only one realistic way this ends for my family. It ends with yet another piece of our hearts being lowered into the ground in a coffin." She shook herself fiercely, refusing to cry in class. "Believe me, I know that we have a good shot of winning the war here; we have just as much chance at winning as that other lot at least, and we've got the moral high ground. But my father's war" Rose dashed a scalding tear from her cheek, intent on ignoring it had ever been there. "That war I'm terrified that we've already lost, without so much as a shot being fired." Her palm came up to blot out any traitorous tears that had fallen without her knowledge. Remus stared at her, looking heartbroken as if he understood exactly what she meant. And of course he did, he had practically been through the entire thing with his mother. "And you know the worst part about it, aside from the apparent inevitability of losing my father?"
"Losing that side of your family" Remus said, James and Sirius nodding gently along with him. "And through them, that final, tenuous connection to the muggle world and the life you lived before you ever heard of Hogwarts."
Rose nodded, not trusting herself to speak. As always, her brilliant friends had known exactly what was going on with her, even when she didn't really understand it herself. She wondered if they knew what she didn't - why she kept having these meltdowns in the most inopportune moments, but even if they did it wouldn't really matter. Her life was reason enough, and yet her life was reason enough not to let the negative side overwhelm her. Awful things happened every day to at least someone in the world, it would do her absolutely no good to dwell on it and risk losing that which made her happiest. She was and would continue to feel this helpless, thorny knot of anger and worry for her father, and for the wizarding world - her next trick would be learning how not to let it consume her. James would have an answer to that, predictably from a Beatles song - with a little help from her friends.
"Miss Evans" Flitwick's squeaky voice called, sounding like it was coming from behind her. She turned and blinked, surprised to see the diminutive professor standing by her chair. "Are you quite alright?"
"No, Professor" Rose replied honestly. She wasn't okay, not by any stretch of the imagination, but neither was she as adrift as she knew she probably ought to have been. She smiled as strongly as she was able. "But I am as okay as I'm going to be for the foreseeable future."
"It has been a tough year" Flitwick murmured, nodding towards the other Marauders to include them in this as well. "Take heart, you have not floundered, nor lost that which ties you together. Whatever may come, be certain in yourselves and fear not that which you cannot change."
By the end of the first period of the double period class, Rose had managed to turn her vinegar into wine (ironically, it had been a nice rosé, or so Sirius had said after helping himself to some, the hypocritical bastard), and she wasn't the only one to do so. Lily had been the first in the class to achieve the spell, followed closely by Remus and Sirius and James. Rose and Peter had followed afterwards, Peter because he was afraid he was going to make it explode again, and Rose because she had just enjoyed watching the others while she got herself together.
As a reward for their achievements, Flitwick announced that they would be perfecting their cheering charms, as an advanced version of this spell would be required for their practical examination. Rose tried not to take it personally that even their tiny professor thought she needed the assistance of extra strength cheering charms to buck up a bit. But she was mature enough to admit that she wasn't the only one of the class that looked like they were in need of a good dose of the spell. Lily wasn't her usual effervescent self in the class, which made all her friends miserable as well. Rose knew from personal experience that when one of your friends was upset, you tended to feel the same way. Call it empathy, sympathy, or just being connected on a very fundamental level, it was what it was. And, naturally, her wonderfully crazy Marauders looked a little down in the dumps themselves. Rose pasted on a smirk that became just a little more genuine when she looked at her friends. "Looks like our Professor is ordering us to cheer up for Merlin's sake."
"I'm severely starting to doubt that Merlin was ever a Snake" James announced, frowning thoughtfully. "I mean, Camelot was supposedly long before Hogwarts was created, ergo Merlin could never have been a Snake. It'd be like Hufflepuff claiming King Arthur."
"Because if anything he'd have been a Gryffindor" Sirius smirked, nodding seriously at James.
"Just like Merlin" Remus agreed, knowing all too well where James was going with that. "Assuming they were in the same year, of course. Because the Knights and those two would have ended up like us on the train."
"Inseparable" Peter nodded, grinning at the thought of being like the legendary Knights of the Roundtable.
Rose grinned helplessly back at the balmy idiots she was fortunate enough to be stuck with for life, shaking her head fondly at their antics. "You know that there is a twenty-five percent chance that Merlin could have been a Slytherin. Ravenclaw is far more likely, I don't think he was all that ambitious, keeping King Arthur alive notwithstanding, but Gryffindor is a definite possibility too." She peered at them, channelling her best McGonagall pretending not to be amused look. "And don't think I don't know what you're all up to, sneaky gits that you are."
"Sneak?" Sirius leaned back, as if physically hurt by the words. His eyes danced merrily. "I've never sneaked in my life, Rose Evans."
"I'm just going to move my chair over here a bit" Rose smirked, pretending to edge away from him. At his frown of confusion, she laughed. "I don't want to be in range of the lightning bolt."
"Come again?" Sirius requested, still not quite understanding her.
James rolled his eyes. "She means that you're lying your arse off, Pads."
Sirius threw his head back, his bark of laughter ringing through the room. And they hadn't even started practicing the charm (not that they actually would, it was remarkable how little work the Marauders actually did when they could be bothered turning up to class). "Not entirely inaccurate, love" he conceded, shooting her a wink. "But I don't know what you're talking about with us being sneaky, Rosebud" he continued easily. "We're not trying to distract you or anything. James and I have been curious about it since you mentioned Camelot being on the History of Magic NEWT level curriculum for seventh year."
"But just imagine the size of the Gryffindor dormitory that year, if Hogwarts had existed back then" Rose said, allowing herself to be properly drawn into the conversation. "With Arthur, most of his Knights, and Merlin."
"Imagine the parties" Peter mused, head tilted as he imagined it.
"Imagine the quidditch team" James corrected, grin brilliant. "Un-bloody-beatable that team would have been."
Sirius frowned at him, amusement hiding in plain sight. "We're no slouches ourselves, James" he reminded him, casting a look at the others that said James was going off his rocker.
"I'm well aware of that, Sirius" James snapped with no little dignity. "Just imagine that team though." He sighed wistfully, honestly depressed that history would never have had a chance to see that happen; the Knights of the Roundtable and the Once and Future King in the same quidditch team.
"I don't think Camelot had their own quidditch team, mate" Remus offered gently. "Nor do I think Essetir, Mercia, Caerleon, Daobeth, Gawant, or Nemeth were likely to have had their own teams either. It is even less likely that they would have considered forming a quidditch league, however in the bag it would have been for Camelot by your estimation."
"How in Godric's name do you know all that?" Peter demanded, the usual 'Moony is a giant swot' glimmer in his eyes.
"Because I read, Wormtail" Remus replied, stopping just short of rolling his eyes. He shrugged a little sheepishly. "I might have borrowed one or two of Rose's books while we were on holiday." Rose grinned, eyes sparkling at him. This was one of the reasons why Remus was her best friend - she was as big a nerd as he was, only a little better at hiding it. "I have to say" Remus continued "I'm starting to regret dropping History at the beginning of the school year."
"Everyone does, sooner or later" Rose agreed brightly, grinning at her friend. "Although, it's usually the nice hour-long naps they miss, rather than the actual learning of the course content."
"Most people" Remus announced, giving a rather pointed look to James and Sirius (both of whom had groaned at Remus' admission). "Are complete and utter idiots. Idiots who would rather risk their necks with dangerous magical creatures than be nice and safe inside where they could catch up on some sleep and maybe learn a thing or two about our past."
"Believe me" Sirius drawled, sounding utterly bored. "I've learned all I care to know about wizarding history, Remus. Someone incredibly boring pissed off someone incredibly dull, and it lead to a war that might be mildly interesting if it wasn't relayed to us by a professor who could make quidditch commentary sound like troll poetry." Troll poetry was, for those fortunate enough never to have heard of it, widely considered to be the worst and most epically boring poetry ever conceived of by any race in the entire universe.
"And yet, you managed to scrape an E in the subject" James teased, as if he hadn't achieved the same feat in his OWLs.
"I said it was boring, Prongs, not that I failed the subject" Sirius replied calmly. "And those who got similar grades really ought to shut their cakeholes if they know what's good for them."
"And besides" Rose felt honour bound to point out. "History is actually an interesting subject."
"Yes, but you're one of those weird people that enjoy it, Rosebud" Sirius smirked, and really he wasn't wrong. "Which is good for our future plans of dominating wizarding pub quizzes."
"We're never going to do that!" Rose giggled, unable to believe some of the stuff he came out with.
James inclined his head thoughtfully. "We could do that."
Remus instantly sat up, alert and displeased. "Have you lost the little sense that you were born with?" he hissed. "Us, forming a pub quiz team? When do you imagine that we'll have the time?"
"Pub quizzes could potentially be an untapped mine of potential information" James offered lamely. "All those people, chatting in pubs, you never know what you might overhear."
"And we'll have time to overhear things?" Remus checked, not buying it for a moment. "When your ridiculous sense of competitiveness comes out and you're berating us for not knowing which year it was the Puddlemere United won the quidditch championship by scoring enough goals but not catching the snitch?"
"I am a mature wizard, Remus Lupin" James announced, nodding his head to cement it. "I am capable of being completely calm and competitive at the same time. And I wouldn't need to berate you for not knowing that fact, because Pads and I would."
Remus gave in and hit his head on his desk. "I am friends with lunatics."
"Lunatics" Peter chortled. "Nice one."
That afternoon, while the spring sunshine shone invitingly upon the grounds of Hogwarts, the Marauders and their sixth year cohorts trudged down to the dungeons for yet another stuffy potions class. The dungeon on the warmer days of the school year wasn't quite as bad as the Divination classroom with it's cloying smells of incense and perpetually burning fireplace. However, with the close atmosphere, dozens of cauldrons, and the lack of appropriate ventilation (being as they were in the dungeons with no windows and only the one door), Potions class came in a close second on the list of classes they'd want to avoid on sunny days. Nevertheless, Remus had vociferously insisted that they join the throng of ill-advised students winding their way down to the class, and as it was getting closer to another full moon, none of them really felt it advisable to get on Moony's bad side. There was also the rather useful little fact that most of the sixth year Slytherins still took Potions, so it was another unmissable opportunity for them to do a little reconnaissance on their opposition. Unspoken was Sirius' amusement at Professor Slughorn's continued attempts to 'collect' the Marauders into his little circle. Slughorn liked to surround himself with the best and brightest (Lily and Marlene naturally among them) but for six years straight, they had refused all of his attempts to persuade them of the usefulness of his connections. The Marauders needed no assistance from Slughorn and his group of graduated students in high places, nor were they keen on the idea of him claiming credit for whatever achievements they might earn once they had graduated Hogwarts. If any Professor had the right to claim them for any of their achievements, it was McGonagall or nothing, and she had no interest whatsoever in cultivating that kind of relationship with her students. She was proud of them, had unknowingly advised them in some of their direst moments, and they adored her; that was enough for her.
Rose leaned on the wall outside the Potions class, waiting for the Slug to let them in. She idly hummed Always Crashing in the Same Car, Bowie never failing to lift her spirits. Mulciber, Snape and their little gang were huddled up as far away from the other students as they could get, sneering and casting dark glares towards the muggle-borns, Marauders, and blood traitors. Rose privately thought that for a group of people planning unspeakable acts upon them, they weren't being the most subtle of conspirators.
"I'm bored" Peter announced, dropping his head back onto the cool stones of the corridor walls. "It's sunny outside, after raining all sodding weekend, but are we making the most of it? No. We're staying inside and being rule abiding like a bunch of numpties."
"Nobody is forcing you to attend class, Wormtail" James smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall beside him.
"Yes they are!" Peter spasmed his hands towards Remus. "He is! With all his 'you won't pass unless you go to class, Peter', and his 'it's only your education at stake, Peter', and my favourite: the sigh of disappointment!"
"Grow a spine, Wormtail" Sirius drawled, amusing himself by smirking his usual arrogant smirk at the Slytherins. "Moony is only nagging at you because he cares. It's not his fault that you are eternally petrified into doing the right thing by fear of disappointment."
"I'm not petrified!" Peter snapped, not denying the disappointment section of Sirius' statement.
"Of course you're not, Pete" Rose agreed, shooting a glare at Sirius. "You're a Gryffindor, ergo you are not petrified. You're brave and chivalrous. Which some people ought to remember. Especially since they consider themselves chivalrous too."
Sirius turned his smirk towards Rose, the amusement falling off his face. "Right" he said softly. "Sorry Wormtail."
"No worries, Pads" Peter replied cheerily, quite used to the seesawing mercurial moods of Marauders. "I am a bit wet sometimes."
"And I'm a bit of an arse on others" Sirius agreed, casting a quick look at Rose. "Agreed, Rosebud?"
Rose smiled swiftly, winking at Peter. "Only sometimes, Siri? Bit optimistic of you."
"Eternally optimistic, me" Sirius winked, back to his sunny self. "It's you lot that are the pessimistic sort."
Remus snorted in derision. "Please, Padfoot" he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're about as glass half full as Prongs is modest about his quidditch talent."
"Oi!" The protest was swift and vociferous from the black haired duo, both turning offended glares on Remus. The werewolf in question smirked serenely, nodding a greeting to Slughorn, whose impressive gut (clothed in yet another eye watering waistcoat) had proceeded him out of the door.
"Well played" Sirius murmured in a low voice, inclining his head at Remus as James led them in with a jaunty spring in his step. "Well played indeed." Remus inclined his head in reply, Rose catching them both watching the suspicious Slytherins muttering together as they filed into the class. They already knew that they were up to something, for once Rose wasn't looking forward to discovering what exactly they were planning. Living a nightmare would probably not be any worse. For now, though, she was going to enjoy not knowing.
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