Oracular: ambiguous; obscure

March 4, 1974

"Peter, get your bloody elbow out of my gut before I rip it off for you."

"Shh! Do you want Filch to find us?"

"Quit twitching, Moony. Merlin, you'd think this was your first night out of the castle."

"I'm not twitching… I'm just trying to keep watch."

"Alright, you let us know if Mrs. Norris comes at us from the ceiling."

"Wouldn't put it past her."

"Will you guys shut up – Got it!"

"Good evening, boys."

All four of the Gryffindor fourth years nearly jumped out of their skin at the deep voice behind them. They spilled out of the alcove around a certain one-eyed witch, James hastily stowing something in his bag, and approximately fifty per cent of the group looking guilty.

"Good evening yourself, Professor," Sirius beamed. He would not be caught dead among that fifty per cent. "An excellent sky for stargazing, or so a centaur let slip to me earlier. They say Mars is bright tonight."

The headmaster surveyed the four boys with a bemuse smile. "I was on my way to get some hot coco from the kitchens. I rather thought most students would be tucked in their beds by now, but perhaps I forgot to switch my clock back from Hungarian time."

"No, no, we're just hopping along to our dormitory," James assured him, also offering a grin.

"Excellent, excellent," Dumbledore nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. He looked at them expectantly and the four boys had no choice but to turn and pretend to be heading in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. "Oh, and boys?" Dumbledore called after them. They turned. "I've often noticed that more is said by things not there, haven't you?"

"Er… yes, Professor?" Remus said, the answer coming out as a question.

Apparently it was the right one, though, because Dumbledore nodded. "Very good. Now I'd best be getting my coco."

He doffed his star-spangled hat to them and disappeared through a door that had been pretending to be a patch of solid wall. Jams, Sirius, Remus, and Peter all looked at one another.

"What did that mean?" Sirius asked, raising his eyebrows.

Remus shrugged. "That's Dumbledore, being ambiguous since the nineteenth century."

"Right, well, we've got a clear shot, so let's get going," said James eagerly, pulling a fluid, silvery cloak out of his bag with a flourish and making for the one-eyed witch statue.

XxX

The streets of Hogsmeade were dark and deserted at ten o'clock at night – or at least that's what they looked like. But the bar tender of the Hog's Head had learned to spot certain peculiarities. He noticed when bushes rustled out-of-synch with the breeze, when prowling cats skirted a portion of the road for no evident reason, and when depressions rolled across mud patches of their own accord. He knew, and in the morning, his brother would know, too.

A/N: :) Please review!