Plans of Resistance
On the first Monday of a rainy, and generally quite unpleasant February, all four Gryffindor boys received a not entirely unexpected note during breakfast time, saying that they would be expected in classroom six in the dungeons, which was the one generally referred to as "the thrashing vault".
Neither Sirius nor James seemed particularly concerned about these news, although the former pulled a grimace as he finished his note and shoved the piece of paper as far away from himself as possible to be able to finish his crumpets.
"So they finally made up their mind," he observed darkly. "Why, I would have thought we'd be through by now."
"I bet Fumes had to go a long way to get this through," James replied, munching some toast. "Boy, I'd have liked to hear his rows with Dumbledore. People say the two don't speak at all, at the moment."
"I cannot help but notice," remarked Remus from behind a beaker of pumpkin juice, "that the first day of term in which Dumbledore is not present during breakfast is the exact one where the three of you are cited. Any thoughts on that?"
"I expected it," said Sirius darkly. "You see, when Dumbledore is gone the school and its students are quite unprotected. Fumes will be pressing his advantage."
"There's something inherently evil about that man," muttered Remus.
"We knew we were going to pay for our little trip, though," James shrugged. "We would have been fools to assume that wandering off when the castle was protected like that would not land us in detention."
"Uhm… this isn't detention, though," said Sirius, glowering. "There was a slight chance we'd get around the thrashing vault, at least that's what I thought when Dumbledore introduced all these new rules."
"Is it bad?" Peter suddenly asked, sounding rather quiet and pensive.
"Naaah," said Sirius vaguely, only ever once having been beaten enough to actually regret his actions. "I mean… there's nicer things. But it's not as longwinded as lines. And it's not as boring as Forest trips."
"Forest… but going into the Forbidden Forest is fun!" James protested.
"Well, a thrashing isn't," said Sirius harshly, making to return to his crumpets. Suddenly, however, he caught a quick glimpse of Snape, who had apparently interrupted his meal to watch their conversation for quite some time now.
"He knows," he muttered, throwing a loathing look across the Great Hall to where the black-haired Slytherin was sitting and giving them unabashed, curious looks. "I don't know how he does it, but he always knows things."
"You going on about Snape again?" remarked Remus tiredly.
"Just look at him," Sirius snarled as Snape was finally busying himself with his food again. "Always glancing over – always spying on us. You know what I think? He might be the one who alerted McGonagall to our absence. She hinted something along the line…"
"You're hearing what you want to hear, mate," mumbled Lupin, but his words were lost and trailed off while he was hiding his expression behind his drink.
"So," said Peter eventually, "we're going down, aren't we? All of us? Together, I mean?"
"Obviously," said James off-hand, helping himself to more orange juice. "And you know what? I think I'll have a quick look in the library during lunchtime to see if I can find any spells to thwart teachers in the thrashing vault. What d'you think?"
"I'll come," said Peter excitedly.
"I'll help," Remus offered, as usual.
Sirius looked undecided, but nodded eventually, feeling that he did not want to be left out. "Dunno if it'll work though," he said critically. "Fumes doesn't look as though this is a first time for him."
"All the more challenging then," James replied with an off-hand laugh.
Two tedious double lessons later, the four Marauders were once again in the library, as far away from Madame Pince's sight as possible, buried in books on the topic of pain aversion. James had even brought his copy of "Popular Pranks – A Student's Guide to Jinxing Their Teacher", but it turned out that most of the spells mentioned in it were going to get you into the thrashing vault rather than out of it. Remus pointed out an enchantment that would befuddle the teacher's mind and have them think they had punished you already, but upon testing the incantation on Peter, it turned out that the magic behind it was neither strong enough nor did it offer any alternative explanation for the victim.
"He's just standing there," James observed, his wand still in his hand, watching his friend gaze around in obvious confusion. "That doesn't seem enough to me."
"Wormtail," mumbled Sirius softly, who was standing with his back to Madame Pince's desk as to cover up their doing magic without having their actions approved from her side first. "How many fingers am I holding?"
"Why am I here?" Peter asked faintly, ignoring the Black's outstretched hands. "What are we doing here?"
"It's no use," said James critically and Remus started browsing the book he was holding for new options, looking glum.
"You sure you wanna go through with this?" he asked cautiously, not wanting to be subjected to another of James's fits of anger.
"I… yeah. I wanna show Fumes that he really is no match for us," replied the Potter, less harshly than expected. "I mean, don't you? He's a stupid git, who has been pestering us for the greatest part of the school year, always taking points whenever he pleases, always favouring his own students… He always picks on us wherever we go, just because we're Gryffindors. Typical, of course. They're all like that, stupid Ex-Slytherin teachers. I hear Professor Babbling is one, too."
"She's all right, though," Lupin mumbled.
"Fumes, however, isn't," James replied firmly. "He is evil. And he can't teach properly."
"Plus, he gave you a C in your first assignment," observed Peter.
"Which was why we chose him as our no. 1 enemy over Professor Vector," contributed Remus.
"Yeah," grinned James. "That, too."
It was not until the end of the lunch break that all four boys decided on a cushioning cham, half-hearted because this was not something any of them deemed undetectable, but glad at having found something to go on with. James kept his legs slightly apart while walking through the corridor leading towards the Transfiguration classroom, looking a little like a heavy weight athlete who had too many muscles around his private region. Sirius, who had aimed his own charm a little more comfortably, continued to jab his wand in the general direction of James's legs testing if the spell was faulty in any other aspect, but the enchantment was essentially in place – James did not take any notice of his friend's attempts.
Transfiguration, to everyone's surprise, was not at all its usual puddle of boredom. Indeed, Professor McGonagall seemed to think that it was time to recompense everyone for an exceptionally work-loaded, theory-filled term.
"We are a little ahead the schedule," she said with a small smile playing around her thin lips, "and your work seems overall very satisfying indeed. We will thus busy ourselves with a piece of transfiguration, which has made history as the single most effective spell to thwart a magic fire cast in a duel. This is an interdisciplinary topic, of course, as you will be able to use this bit of magic in Defence Against the Dark Arts, whenever your opponent attacks you with fire. I hope, of course, that this is a scenario you will only encounter in controlled circumstances during Defence practice within Hogwarts walls."
She went on explaining how, with the right kind of transfiguration spell, a creature could be conjured out of any magical fire, which would block the destructive power of the flames and could more easily evaporated than the actual element. The "Ashwinder", the Marauders and their classmates learned, was a thin, grey serpent with glowing, red eyes, which needed to be held under strict control once created because its eggs had been known to set entire buildings on fire.
"I'd know what I'd do with a couple of glowing eggs," James muttered into Sirius's ear, who snorted and made a rude gesture under his desk.
"Unfortunately," informed them Professor McGonagall, not oblivious of her two most frequent troublemakers' voices, "we shall not be able to practice this spell in pairs, as it is far too dangerous to ask several people at once to conjure a magic fire within a classroom. You will step forward, one by one, and try your luck with a small fire I shall be holding in my left hand." She clutched her wand in her right yet more firmly as if to confirm that the basic procedure was essentially safe. "I must ask you," she then continued, "to evaporate the Ashwinder immediately once you bring it to life, no matter how pleased or surprised you might be of having managed the transfiguration process. Potter, you will be the first to start this experiment. The incantation is "Transfigo Ex Flamma" – add "Viperam" if you are not entirely certain of how an Ashwinder is composed in your head. You know how to produce snakes and the animal created will almost automatically turn into an Ashwinder if you do not decide on a species beforehand – because of the fire. And don't forget to roll the r, or you'll produce a very funny being indeed."
James, by now, had slouched to the front of the class. He liked Transfiguration as such, but it would not hurt to show Professor just how bored he was by having to transfigure something into something else all over again, all the time, twice a week. He held up his wand, yawned, waited for the middle-aged witch to ignite a small fire in her left hand, and then spoke the incantation.
"Transfigo Ex Flamma!"
Nothing happened.
"Transfigo Ex Flamma… uhm… Viperam!" he attempted again, forcing himself to focus some of his energy to the subject at hand. Again, nothing happened.
"It seems, Mr. Potter," said Professor McGonagall, "that you are experiencing a case of lack of attention. One more attempt, please, and a proper one this time, or I shall be forced to take a point of my own house."
James frowned. "Transfigo Ex Flamma Viperam!" he snarled at the lambent flames in his teacher's hand, shaking his wand just a little to produce any effect at all.
Again, however, nothing happened.
"Very well," said Professor McGonagall, looking disappointed. "That's a point from Gryffindor then, because I know you could do this if you didn't believe actual school work beneath you. Sit down."
A snigger from the ranks of Slytherins beside the window caused James to jerk his head around and glare. Professor McGonagall, as usual, acted before the situation could slip her control, however.
"Mr. Snape," she said crisply, "I am sure you will show somewhat more focus than your classmate? You are next."
The laughter on Snape's face died away, James noticed with some satisfaction, and a look of supreme unease spread over it as he crept away from his place and to the front of the class. McGonagall's gaze softened a little when the boy raised his pitch black wand – was it ebony, James wondered – towards her left hand.
"Tr-Transfigo Ex Flamma Viperam!" Snape said quietly, not entirely certain of what he was doing after a moment's consideration.
There was a small hiss, which made the students in the first row jump back. McGonagall's hand seemed to vanish for a moment, as it was clouded in thick, grey smoke. Snape coughed and Sirius kicked James under their desk, who had been examining his wand instead of paying attention to what was happening at the front.
"Well done, Mr. Snape!" Professor McGonagall cheered, looking down at a pair of dangerously glowing eyes in her hand. "Now, evaporation, please!"
"Evanesco," Snape said obediently and the snake vanished, along with half the professor's middle finger. She cringed, but restored the missing flesh with a few taps and muttered incantations.
"Thank you, Mr. Snape," she said and James got the impression that she was almost smiling. "That is ten points to Slytherin for mastering this spell at first attempt. Nott, you are next. And please do not meddle with my anatomy. Constant vanishing has rather unpleasant side-effects."