Disclaimer: Harry Potter, and any ideas, characters and settings relating to the books, belongs to JKR. I just play with her ideas.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Chapter Fifteen: In which Peter loses the Map
James was going to miss breakfast, if the big golden hands of his Golden Snitch clock were anything to go by. Leaping out of bed, he swore softly and pulled on a pair of pants, grabbing his school shirt and making a dash for the stairs. The Head's Tower was silent: Lily was probably already at breakfast, ready to plunge back into a week of lessons. Slipping his arms through the sleeves of his rumpled shirt, he flew into the bathroom and made straight to the vanity.
"Good morning," said a voice behind him, exceptionally cheerful.
Mouth already full of toothpaste, James turned, frowning, to ask Lily what exactly she was doing in the Tower when she should be down at breakfast.
Lily watched James turn, caught halfway between extreme embarrassment and carefree amusement. She watched as his lovely hazel eyes widened in shock as they drifted down her body, taking in her bare legs, and most importantly, the fluffy white towel that she had clutched around her. Feeling she ought to do or say something to break the ice, Lily waved.
"Bit keen, aren't you?"
James whirled and spat out his toothpaste, took one further, alarmed glance at Lily and hightailed it out of the bathroom. Lily listened to the door slam, a small smile spreading across her face. Serves him right for not knocking.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
When Lily emerged from the bathroom several minutes later, she found an extremely anxious James perched on the edge of one of the plush red lounges, wringing his hands. His glasses were perched on top of his head, where he had pushed them impatiently, unable to decide whether he wanted to obliviate himself or treasure the memory of a semi-naked Lily forever. His shirt still hung open, his tie slung around the collar haphazardly, and all in all, Lily couldn't help but think that he looked positively adorable.
"I'm so sorry, Lily. I should have knocked, or at least said something, and please don't hate me, I'm so embarrassed…"
"It's fine, James."
James met her eyes, amazed. "Wha- What?"
"It's fine. You probably should have knocked, but you didn't see anything you shouldn't have, and you look so upset that I think I'm just going to have to forgive you."
James cleared his throat, and looked away again. Suddenly, he appeared to realize that his shirt was hanging half open, and made to button it up, making a poor show of hiding his strangely trembling hands.
"So what did you mean, I was a bit keen?" he asked in the meekest voice that Lily had ever heard.
Lily grinned, making James blush. "Oh, you know," she replied offhandedly, going to perch next to him. "It is Sunday, after all."
James groaned. "Lily Evans, swear to me you're telling the truth."
Lily's eyes widened, surprised, and she nodded very gently, as if she were talking to someone who was a little slow. "Sunday, Potter. Day after the big Quidditch win? Don't you have some gloating to do, or something?" she teased.
James shook his head, watching her eyes sparkle. Lily was teasing him of all people? Not that he didn't deserve it; in fact, James was very sure that he did deserve some decent teasing. In the approximately twenty minutes that he'd been awake, he had already made a fool of himself twice. An excellent start to the day, if ever he'd had one. Feeling he had nothing more to lose, James decided to go out on a limb.
"Lily, since I've suddenly gained a whole extra day… can I challenge you to a game of chess?"
Lily eyed James uncertainly. Chess was precisely at the bottom of her extensive to-do list. Having missed three days of school, she had rather a lot to catch up on. And yet – Lily was never one to resist a challenge.
"Sounds like fun," she told him, smiling. "Two conditions. One, you go and change; and two, we get breakfast first."
James smiled. "You drive a hard bargain," he told her, trying to look as though he was thinking the matter over seriously, and failing. "Deal."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sirius felt sick. His head was pounding, his eyes bloodshot. Yes, Gryffindor had won Quidditch, and he had taken the celebrations very seriously indeed. As Remus often said, if there was ever a conscientious drinker, it was Sirius Black. But now that the Quidditch euphoria, and the alcohol, had dried up, Sirius was left with a throbbing headache, and a very big problem.
A very big problem - namely a very big pile of gold, with his name stamped all over it.
For all that James had seen his so-called windfall as an opportunity to escape, Sirius felt nothing but constricted. To have Black money was a lovely, final reminder from his dearly departed Uncle that no matter how much Sirius tried to deny his heritage, it would always be a part of him, help or hindrance.
"Sirius?"
A voice broke through his thoughts, and Sirius sat up, peeling back rich velvet curtains to find Peter peering down at him.
"Fancy a trip to the kitchens?" he asked hopefully, his eyes glittering with excitement in his boyish face.
Sirius groaned. Food was the last thing he felt like.
"Not really, Wormy," he said, trying to sound as apologetic as possible. "Take Moony or Prongs."
Peter grimaced. "Prongs is with Lily, according to the Map. And I don't know where Moony is."
Sirius rolled his eyes. "You used to map to spy on Prongs but you didn't think to look for Moony? I bet he's in the library anyway." Sirius muffled a yawn with his hand. "I'm going back to sleep."
Peter frowned as he watched the curtains magically redraw about Sirius' bed. James was busy with Lily (like usual), Remus was probably studying for NEWTS and Sirius planned to sleep all day. Sighing, he perched on the edge of his bed, eyes sweeping the map for something interesting to do. It seemed to Peter that these days, the Marauders didn't have a lot of time to maraud. It had all started with James becoming Head Boy, and Sirius Quidditch Captain. Not to mention that Remus was still a prefect. It seemed to Peter that everyone had a responsibility but him – he was just there, existing, and feeling thoroughly neglected at that. Even the Map was more interesting than him. For all the good that it could have done, Peter would have transfigured himself into a statue. At least the other statues would talk to him, then. Now, even they ignored him.
Peter ran his fingers despondently through his mousey hair, wishing for once that it would stick up like James', or flick stylishly around like Sirius', or look tidy like Remus'. Instead, it just sat there, mocking him. Peter was tired of being the ordinary Marauder.
Eyes catching on a name, Peter suddenly smiled. Emmeline was alone in the common room. Maybe he could sit with her, and talk? Merlin knew what he would say; he'd never been more terrified of a girl. Certainly, Peter felt there had never been a prettier girl. As much as James insisted that no one held a candle to Lily, the Head Girl had none of the classic blonde hair and blue-eyed looks of her friend. Maybe, he would tell Emmeline that he was lonely. She might understand. After all, Peter reasoned, there must have been times when she felt her best friend was too busy for her, too. Maybe he could tell her of the great, gaping emptiness that sometimes constricted his chest, late at night when he listened to the boys sleeping. He was a part of them: and yet, he wasn't.
Perhaps, Emmeline would understand.
Refolding the map, Peter stuffed it into his pocket and left the dormitory quietly. He made his way slowly down the echoing stone staircase, planning what he would say. First he would smile, shyly yet charmingly, and ask how she was. Then, she would ask him to sit, and they might talk about class, and then-
Peter reached the bottom of the staircase much more quickly than he had anticipated. Drawing a deep breath, he decided rashly that for once, he might be spontaneous. Stepping out onto the ornate rug, he looked around.
Emmeline wasn't there.
Pulling himself back into the shadow of the staircase, Peter cursed and drew out the map, muttering the password under his breath. There was her dot, making its way along a corridor toward the library. Peter measured their distance with his eyes, tongue protruding between his lips thoughtfully. Perhaps, if he ran, he might just make it…
Stuffing the map back into his pocket, he set off across the common room, startling the second years and narrowly missing a fourth years' Gobstones match.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Several corridors later, Peter had to pull up, panting and clutching the stitch in his side. It pinched, just below his ribs, a cruel reminder of how unfit he had become. And all this for a girl. He shook his head ruefully. Really, he was being just as stupid as James.
And look where it had got James…Deciding that the effort was worth it, Peter set off again, rounding the next corner haphazardly –
SMACK!
With a painful crunch, Peter felt himself rebound off something and land on the cold, unforgiving flagstone floor. A nasty crunching sound emitted from his wrist as he landed, and pain shot through his arm. Confused and blinking, Peter's eyes darted up to see what he had bumped into. Or rather, who.
Argus Filch leered grimly.
"Running, was it?" he asked, roughly hauling Peter up by his injured wrist and paying no heed to the boy's protests. "But from what?"
The caretaker looked positively gleeful. Peter nursed his wrist, eyeing Filch with the greatest dislike. He could almost hear the thoughts of triumph that were currently whirring around the squib's head. Caught a Marauder in the act! Peter almost snorted, wondering how Filch could be so stupid. Surely if the Marauders were up to something, they would at least be in pairs. Not that the Marauders had done anything particularly exciting for a while now…
"Turn out your pockets, boy."
The direction came as a shock to Peter, who had hoped he might be able to complain his way out of a detention.
Peter sighed. "I'm not up to anything, Sir. And there's nothing in my pockets, see?" As if to illustrate, he pulled out several sickles, a misplaced button and a chocolate frog wrapping.
Filch frowned, looking supremely disappointed, until his beady little eyes spied something else that seemed to have slipped from his captive's pockets. Peter's stomach gave another nasty lurch as he realised that the particularly humble looking scrap of paper Filch was currently picking up was indeed the Marauder's Map.
"What's this?" Filch asked nastily.
Peter winced again, closing his eyes as he attempted to think up a decent lie.
"Just a bit of old paper?" he replied hopefully.
Filch looked particularly smug. "Of course it is, boy. And it's so old and useless that I'll just be taking it with me now."
"Wait!"
But Filch, who had been examining the parchment quite thoroughly, paused, and his eyes widened in shock. Oh bloody hell, Peter thought, frustrated. Of all times for that stupid spell to kick in…
Mr. Moony, said the parchment, wishes to extend his greetings to Mr. Filch and begs him to return this parchment to his victim.
Mr. Padfoot agrees, and would like to add that Mr. Filch is a hopeless squib.
Mr. Wormtail would like to enquire whether Mr. Filch really did fall in love with his cat?
Filch spluttered with indignation, but the parchment wasn't finished.
Mr. Padfoot would like to extend his heartfelt thanks to Mr. Filch for being such a lousy caretaker.
Peter rolled his eyes. "It's just a piece of paper that insults you, sir. Can I please have it back? I think I need to go and see Madam Pomfrey about my wrist."
Filch's eyes looked set to pop. "Have it back? This-" he brandished the map rather rudely "- deserves to be burnt! You can go, boy, but this isn't coming with you."
And with a further nasty leer, the indignant caretaker turned and stalked off along the corridor, furious.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"You WHAT?!"
Peter winced. Sirius didn't like being woken up at the best of times: and, on further reflection, telling him outright hadn't been the most tactful way to break the news.
"I'm sorry," Peter murmured. "I was trying to catch up to Emmeline, and I ran into Filch, and he made me empty my pockets…"
Sirius looked set to throttle him. Standing and roughly dragging on Peter's newly healed arm, Sirius pulled him out of the dormitory and down the stairs.
"Where are we going?" Peter asked.
Sirius shot him a look full of loathing. "To find the others."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew requesting entry!" The Carved Witch sung, interrupting Lily and James' third game of chess.
Lily raised her eyebrows at James, who shrugged. "Do you mind?" he asked quietly.
Lily gave him a small smile and shook her head. "Not at all. I have work to catch up on anyway. Go have fun with your friends."
She unfolded her legs from the lounge gracefully and stood up, giving him a gentle touch on the shoulder as she made her way past him to the staircase.
"Let them in, please," she told the Carved Witch, before disappearing up the stairs.
James sighed, watching her vanish behind the fireplace as he struggled not to smile. His eyes met hers' as she appeared on the gallery, and she gave him a playful wave as she slipped into her room, closing the door.
At that moment, however, Sirius stalked into the room, looking furious. He sprawled onto the lounge opposite James, shortly followed by Remus, who looked uncharacteristically angry. Peter hesitated, hovering by James' lounge and biting his lip.
"Go on, tell him," Sirius ordered harshly.
James frowned at his friend. Sirius was prone to short, fiery bursts of anger, but James often felt that his best mate was overreacting. Surely, whatever Peter had done wasn't that bad. Peter flinched at Sirius' words. He turned to James and opened his mouth, then hestitated, choosing instead to re-adjust his gaze. He stared at the armrest where James' hand rested, mortified.
"I – I lost the m-map."
James choked. "You WHAT?! Wormtail! How could you lose the map?"
Remus sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands. His frown remained fixed firmly in place. "Sit down, Peter," he commanded scathingly. "Actually, he didn't lose it at all. Filch has it."
"Filch?!"
Lily lay on her bed, textbooks spread before her, and had just picked up her quill when the shouting started. She glanced up at the door, surprised. In seven years at Hogwarts, she had only ever seen the Marauders argue once, in sixth year. She paused, ears straining to listen. She never had heard the reason for their last fight, but it had certainly been serious. So far as she knew, the Marauders only ever argued over serious things, which was rather ironic considering how rarely they were serious.
"Wormtail, it's like you've just lost our only child!" Sirius yelled, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "Can't you understand how important that map is?!"
Peter hung his head, not even daring to reply. It simply wasn't worth it.
"Peter, we trusted you! We trusted that if you were going to use the map, you'd take care of it!"
Remus stayed silent, although if the look on his face was anything to go by, he agreed with James and Sirius.
"I didn't mean it," Peter mumbled humbly.
Sirius snorted, but it was James who cut in. "Of course you didn't mean it, Wormtail, but that doesn't take away from the fact that it still happened! How could you be so stupid?"
James was breathing rather heavily, but much to Peter's relief he seemed to be calming down now.
"We could just go and get it back?" he suggested hopefully.
Sirius glared at him, while Remus shook his head, signaling him to remain quiet.
The unspoken sentiment roared in Peter's ears. You've done quite enough damage already. Leave it to us, now. We can sort it out without you..
"Right," James muttered, appearing to gather his thoughts, although, as Peter suspected, he seemed to be confirming Remus and Sirius' accusatory looks. "Right," he repeated, then looked up at his three friends. "Wormy's right. We'll just have to get it back."
Sirius and Remus exchanged looks of surprise. They obviously hadn't expected James to side with Peter.
"He only lost it because he was chasing after Emmeline," Sirius told the boys cruelly, a mocking smile on his face.
Peter gave Sirius a rude gesture in reply. James and Remus hadn't needed to know that, but of course Sirius had known it would embarrass him further. Sirius smirked, as if daring Peter to contradict him...
Suddenly, Sirius' face changed. His expression lightened, as if he'd just had a very good idea.
"Hold on, lads. Maybe we can get it back after all," he abruptly announced.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Found anything?" James asked casually. He had draped himself across Filch's nasty, cat-hair infested chair, leaning back so that he was swinging it on its back two legs.
"I think so," Sirius muttered, his voice appearing from the empty air beside the open filing cabinet. "We have our own file, even!" he exclaimed in surprise, and laughed. "Suspected crimes, indeed! Look at this list, Moony. What a load of rubbish!"
"Duplicatio," Remus whispered, and a sheaf of parchment appeared in his hands. Hands clutching around in the air, he opened Sirius' cloak and stuck it under his friend's arm.
"Smuggle that out for us, too."
"Peter." James' voice sounded a warning from across the dingy room, making Peter jump.
"I thought we told you not to touch anything," James chastised him, frowning and checking his watch. "Come on Padfoot. He's sure to be back any minute!"
There was a crash from the far corner; the filing cabinet had slammed shut.
"Padfoot?" Remus murmured questioningly.
"Got it," the invisible boy hissed triumphantly. "Let's go-"
"Well, well, well."
James leapt to his feet, Filch's chair landing on the floor with a crash behind him.
Filch was leaning in his doorway, once more leering unpleasantly. Is he even capable of another facial expression? Peter thought scathingly, before dismissing that fleeting thought. No, of course he isn't-
He was interrupted by Filch, who was trying his best to sound menacing. "And who do we have here?"
"Oh," James smiled easily, making his way toward the caretaker. "I was waiting for you, Mr. Filch, sir. Lily and I need some more detention slips."
From behind him, James heard Remus expel the breath he had been holding.
Filch blinked, unprepared for such an authoritative, or indeed legitimate, response.
"And what are these two hooligans doing in here, then?" he peered at Peter, eyes glittering in the dim candlelight. "Didn't I confiscate something from you this morning, boy?"
Peter opened his mouth to stutter an honest reply, when James swiftly cut him off.
"These are my friends," he told the caretaker severely. "Remus is also a prefect. They were waiting with me. And besides, you can't have confiscated something from Peter," he added offhandedly. "He's been with me all day."
Filch blinked, clearly uncomfortable with a student who offered such plausible answers.
"All right," he said slowly, still regarding them all suspiciously.
The caretaker walked around to the side of his desk and roughly pulled open a drawer. Taking out a fat stack of papers, he handed them roughly to James.
"There you go, Potter. On your way, now."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"I can't believe we got away with that," Remus murmured breathlessly as he collapsed into an armchair beside the fire in the Gryffindor common room. .
Sirius nodded, smirking. "Very stylish, Prongs. Maybe your being Head Boy isn't such a bad thing after all."
James rolled his eyes. He was comfortably sprawled across a lounge and looked, in Peter's opinion, extremely regal. "Nothing to it, Paddy," he replied easily.
Peter perched nervously on the armrest of James' lounge, unsure as to his current standing with his friends. Sirius lounged on the rug, and flicked his fringe from his face with a casual elegance that Peter didn't think was humanely possible. Suddenly Sirius sat up, and wandered over to Remus' chair to whisper something into his ear. Remus frowned.
Peter looked away, eyes traveling to James, who met his gaze and blinked back calmly.
"No harm done," he told Peter softly, sitting up and making room for him.
Peter smiled at him gratefully and took a seat, staring hard into the fire. At least James had forgiven him, he thought, relieved. Although, knowing James, he would always forgive him. Because James Potter was just that sort of person, really.
Several minutes passed in silence before Peter tore his eyes way from the fire. Sirius had now pulled out the coveted map, and was stroking it fondly as his eyes swept it searchingly. Remus pursed his lips and muttered something, gesturing furtively toward James and Peter's lounge.
Peter checked his watch, and found that much to his surprise, it was nearly dinnertime.
Sirius seemed to have the same thoughts, because he stood abruptly and handed the map to Remus. Then, much to Peter's shock, he extended his hand toward him.
"No hard feelings, Wormtail?"
Peter gulped and shook his hand. "No," he agreed quietly.
Sirius grinned. "Good. Dinner, then, shall we?"
With a significant look to Remus, he swept out of the common room with unusual speed.
James frowned questioningly at Remus, but the sandy haired boy merely shrugged, although his eyes suggested something more was going on than he wanted to let on. Making a point to get up slowly - and making a show of safely tucking the map away - Remus jerked his head toward the portrait hole. "Shall we?"
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Emmeline had been heading back up to the Gryffindor Tower to put her books back into her dorm before dinner. Had, being the operative word. Because, just as she had turned the final corner and was making her way toward the Fat Lady, the portrait hole had swung open and Sirius Black had emerged, looking none too surprised to see her.
"Hullo, Emmeline," he had said, softly. And then-
Emmeline heard the crash of her books hitting the floor, and felt the rough, cool wall pressed at her back, but nothing could had prepared her for this. Sirius Black was kissing her?
Emmeline had to respond to her own question with an affirmative. Sirius had certainly just pushed her against the wall, and had proceeded to press his lips to hers. She gasped, breath catching in her throat as a jolt ran through her body. In fact, she had to say that Sirius wasn't simply kissing her. Emmeline was pretty sure that this whole – experience – qualified as a passionate snog. An entirely unexpected passionate snog. It was all she could do not to smile, and to instead kiss him back.
Someone coughed, and Sirius broke away from the kiss quite suddenly, although his lips still lingered beside hers'. Slowly, they turned to look toward the source of the noise.
James blinked at his best friend, feeling numb. Sirius blinked back, looking quite self-assured. Beside him, Emmeline looked very flushed and pretty, glancing up at Sirius in surprise and admiration. Feeling Peter tense beside him, James inwardly groaned. Tell me he didn't just-
The grim look on Remus' face seemed to confirm James' suspicions. James placed a restraining hand on Peter's shoulder, and gave Sirius a look that felt halfway between a grimace and a forced smile.
"What's going on here?"
His voice was quiet, almost dangerously so, but so very smooth and just a little warm.
Emmeline seemed to be looking at Sirius with a similar question.
"Yes," she murmured, voice low and silky smooth. "What was that all about, Sirius?"
Sirius smirked.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A/N: Yet another lovely cliffy for you. Well! What was that all about, indeed? Love to hear your thoughts! Thanks once again to all my reviewers, you are so deeply appreciated that I can't fully express it in words. Thanks for reading, as always!
Lexie xx