Cat, Rat, and Dog

By Matelia-legwll

A/N: Last time, Sirius started a race with a panicking Peter:

He straightened, and with a meaningful glance at me, he turned and loped down the stairs, calling over his shoulder, "Betcha I can beat you to the Great Hall!"

"No fair!" I cried in surprise. "You got a head start!"

I started running after Sirius, only to hear him shout, "I gave you fair warning! Now let's get there before Prongs goes off!"

I shook my head, not sure if I could make it all the way into the Great Hall, if I was really running after Sirius. Merlin, that boy could run fast. I picked up speed going down a staircase, two stairs at a time. I lowered my head and barreled on, wheezing harder than Filch.

CHAPTER TWENTY: Remus

James was getting antsy. A necessary evil, I reassured myself, as he fingered his wand, twirling it repeatedly through his fingers under the table.

"Remember the plan," I muttered under my breath.

"Of course I remember it. I helped make it," retorted Prongs softly.

The main problem arose from the fact that we didn't know how long it would take Sirius to drag Peter away from the dormitories and down to the Great Hall. With the undefined time slipping away, and no way to do a countdown in sight, Prongs was understandably anxious to get started.

"You can't go and find them," I reminded him, just to steady myself and him.

"I know," he moaned.

The time stretched in the silence between us. Suddenly James, who had been bouncing minutely in his seat, froze, his eyes fixed on some point close to the door.

"What did we decide to do about Lils?" murmured James to me, his voice going higher with his panic.

"Er, I dunno." I was stunned. How could we have forgotten about the cat in all our planning? Surely Sirius had planned something. It was his odd rule in the first place. "Wasn't Sirius planning on keeping an eye on her?" I suggested.

"Yeah, right, that's right," he mumbled, his eyes still locked on the object close to the floor of the door as he stowed his wand. "Shouldn't be too long now, then, I suppose."

"Why?" I asked, suddenly feeling my own panic building as James looked away and started bouncing again.

"Lils is right there," said Prongs softly, waving a hand in the general direction that he had stared in before.

I turned around and saw the cat, sitting patiently on her haunches, waiting for something to happen. "Great, just great," I muttered under my breath.

The silence once more stretched out between us. I felt every second drag as it ticked by.

I suddenly noticed that James had his wand out again. Twirling it in between his fingers he muttered, "Two minutes, max."

With a shock, I felt something warm and furry brush past my leg. At my jolt, James looked at me in earnest, his wand raised defensively, and started chuckling when he saw the trespasser.

"Lils," he chortled. "Ha. You jumped a foot because of Lils?"

"I wasn't expecting her, Prongs," I shuddered. Turning away from James crooning at the cat, I muttered to myself, "I will never get used to cats. Owls are so much more practical."

Somehow, even through the happy babble of the feast, James heard me, and he stopped crooning to grin mischievously at me. "Cats are cleaner than owls. They use their own litter boxes," he argued.

I narrowed my eyes at him, and decided to take the bait. "But can cats carry your mail, Prongs? No."

"But, Moony, cats are more entertaining," protested James.

"Oh, certainly," I agreed sarcastically. "Especially around Wormtail. And Padfoot. But owls will give you the better companionship."

"How?" argued James. "How is a solitary bird a better companion than a cuddly kitten?"

"It knows when you want to be left alone," I retorted.

"But the cat knows when you shouldn't be alone," reasoned James. "So doesn't that make the cat the better companion?"

"Maybe I chose the wrong word," I allowed.

"No, you didn't. You want a cat, subconsciously. You just don't know it yet," suggested Prongs.

"Yeah, right." I snorted, amused.

James grinned in response. Making me lighten up had lifted his own mood. "You started it," he muttered, still grinning. "I'm all for rabbits, myself."

I couldn't help but grin at him. "Yeah. Sure."

The conversation trailed off as I decided to review the plan, once again. Just as I got to the part where we would clean up the mess, the doors to the Great Hall burst open and Sirius and Peter strode in.

The difference between Padfoot and Wormtail was vast. Sirius strutted over to the Gryffindor table like he owned the whole school. Peter followed him, pausing to bend over and lean on his knees, gasping and wheezing hard, and then struggled to keep pace with Sirius again.

Sirius walked over to where we sat and smoothly sat down across from James, saying, "What did I miss?" with a knowing grin.

"An argument about whether cats or owls were better companions for the young witch or wizard," rattled off Prongs.

"Not much," I qualified.

Sirius was staring in bemused curiosity at James. "Which side did you take, Prongs?"

"Cats," said James proudly, pausing to make Lils's paw wave at Sirius. "Moony took owls."

Sirius had twisted his expression into mock horror. "My best mate? Arguing for cats?"

Curious, I asked, "What would you have said if Prongs had taken owls instead?"

Sirius twisted around to me, and said, "My favorite Moony wanted to take cats?"

We all burst into laughter, as Peter sat down across from me, with a big sigh of relief.

Sirius made himself look disgruntled. "I'm still disappointed neither of you took the side of dogs," he announced.

"What?" asked Wormtail in confusion, giving Sirius a double-take, and the three of us exchanged a look and laughed again.

"It'll take too long to explain, Wormtail," I said apologetically. "It's probably not really as funny as it seems right now."

"Down to business," said James and Sirius together.

The four of us put our heads together and softly repeated the chant that proceeded every major prank. Our motto, as it were.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Yes, the same motto that we made our password for the Marauder's Map. We had burned it into our memories every single time we were up to no good.

James, whose face was a mask of calmness now with only a glint of excitement showing in his eyes, matter-of-factly picked up the cat that was currently on his lap and tried to pass her over to Sirius. "Here, Mr. Padfoot."

Sirius, pursed his lips in apparent confusion. Uh-oh. "What do I want with Lily's cat?" he asked slowly.

"Your rule," I reminded him. "Number three of the rules for the cat."

"Which is?" asked Sirius.

James sighed. "Lils can't be involved in any pranking. 'No tagging along during a prank,'" he quoted.

Sirius frowned. "Well, Mr. Prongs's rule overruled mine. 'Have fun.' We'll just have to ask Lils if she thinks pranking is fun."

Peter was looking between the two with apprehension bordering on terror. I couldn't make up my own mind between amusement and irritation. Padfoot, turning to face the cat who was now standing in the middle of the table, nodded his head exaggeratedly as he slowly asked her, "Is pranking fun for you?"

I indulged myself in rolling my eyes, then focused in on the cat. The cat had the oddest expression on her face. If she were human, moving those same muscles would have probably resulted in one eyebrow raised, but as cats don't have distinguishable eyebrows, it just resulted in a weird contortion of the cat's face.

After a long, drawn out silence, made more awkward by Peter's fidgeting and Sirius's stare and continued nodding at the cat, Lils sat down on her haunches and nodded. I stared at her, amazed. Although James and Sirius had spoken about how she could and would communicate with them, this was the first time I saw that in action. She looked around at the rest of us, and her tail twitched impatiently. Lils must have caught sight of my expression, for she turned to face me more fully, meowed once, and nodded reassuringly.

I felt my face harden in shock. Maybe I was going mental, but it seemed as if the cat actually understood what was going on. But that's impossible. As I debated with myself, Sirius and Peter exchanged a loaded glance that I didn't understand. Prongs looked satisfied, and reached for the cat again. Lils eyed his outstretched arms warily and moved to the other side of the table, closer to Sirius and Peter. James pouted slightly as both Padfoot and Wormtail looked at Lils in surprise. Peter's face was, understandably, tinged with panic, but Sirius's expression was the one that surprised me. His surprise was more irritated than one might expect.

Dismissing their expressions and regaining control of my own, I reminded them of the first step. Observation. We had to pick a moment that would be beneficial to performing the prank correctly. We crowded together and tried to look at the Slytherins while being discreet.

"Look at Crabbe," chortled Sirius. I looked over to see that the boy in question was currently dipping his bread in his pumpkin juice and making faces at the combined taste.

"What in the world is Rosier doing?" asked James in amazed horror. I quickly glanced at him. He was holding his chocolate egg up to the light and stroking it gently with an awed expression.

Anxiously, Peter pointed. "And what about Snape?" His question had the desired effect. All three of us focused in on Snape.

He was looking shiftily eyed around the Slytherin table. I saw a flash of silver that could be Sickles in his hands as he addressed Goyle.

"What in the world is wrong with the Slytherins today?" I breathed in astonishment as Goyle shook his head and Snape looked crestfallen, and then even more determined. Snape reached into his robes and pulled out something that made Goyle nod reluctantly and pass over his chocolate Easter egg to Snape.

"Now," muttered James. All four of us raised our wands, and heard the cat's meow.

The longest three seconds of my life occurred as all four of us glanced down at Lils. She was, well, actually glaring at Prongs, who grudgingly tore his eyes off of Snape to look down at her.

"What?" whispered James in irritation. Lils shook her head, and pointed her tail towards the raised table at the top of the hall. The teachers. We stared wide-eyed at each other, then Sirius chanced a glance up at the teachers.

"Flaming Snitches," cursed Sirius, turning back swiftly. "Sluggy's talking to Dumbles."

Peter's eyes went wide, and he started mumbling under his breath, "Items thirteen and fourteen. Items thirteen and fourteen."

Not bothering to figure out what Wormtail was going on about, I quickly sized up the situation myself. Professor Slughorn was actually indicating the odd and slightly mental behavior of his House with his hand as he continued to talk to Professor Dumbledore. I also noticed Professor McGonagall eyeing the Gryffindor table suspiciously, as if she was looking for us.

"Alright, so what we need is an initial distraction. Some sort of explosion to draw the attention of the teachers away from the Slytherins." I looked expectantly at Padfoot and Prongs, who had most recently snuck into Zonko's.

Both had identical grins on their faces as they started to pull things out of their pockets. I shook my head, smiling indulgently. Peter's eyes lit up with excitement as he saw the new items.

James and Sirius seemed to hold a silent argument: James pointed to one item, then another, while Sirius nodded or shook his head, and James either agreed or disagreed, and they whittled down the items. Finally they seemed to have come to an agreement on two extra-small Dungbombs, as those were the only two items left on the table—the rest had gone back into their pockets.

"What are those?" asked Wormtail, looking at the two miniature Dungbombs with evident longing. He never could keep up with the newest pranking materials.

"They're Dungbombs," said Sirius, rolling his eyes.

"Why are they that small?" I wondered aloud.

"More convenient for pockets," explained James. "Also," he added with a wicked smile, "those two can really cast a smell over the place."

"What smell should we pick, Mr. Prongs?" asked Padfoot.

"You get to pick the smell?" I interrupted. "Wicked." I liked that.

Prongs pursed his lips. "I was planning on drenching Snivellus in something sweet-smelling with those."

"Great idea!" exclaimed Sirius. "He needs something. Merlin knows how much he hates shampoo."

An odd thing happened just then. Lils, who had still been glaring at James from her place by Sirius's elbow, turned her glare at Sirius instead and stalked down to my end of the table, carefully stepping around the two mini-Dungbombs. She lay down close to the edge and continued to shoot dark looks toward Padfoot and Prongs.

I tried my best to ignore the presence of the cat and focused on a compromise for the prank. Peter was protesting that we needed both Dungbombs to have a nasty smell to draw everyone away.

I broke into the conversation, "What if we do this? Mr. Prongs can throw a sort-of nasty smelling Dungbomb at the Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws. And a sweet smelling Dungbomb at the Slytherins as a whole."

"Mr. Moony, what do you mean by 'sort of nasty'?" asked Padfoot.

I paused, thinking. "Rotten eggs or sour milk... something organic. We could do lavender or strawberry for the Slytherins." I allowed a grin to creep up on my face. "It will really confuse them if they start smelling like roses in the middle of a feast."

My grin was matched with three others, and a blank expression from the cat I'm supposed to be ignoring. Good thing she was ignoring me.

James tapped each Dungbomb once with his wand, then said in a low voice, "Ready, Messieurs?"

All of us nodded together. I stole a quick glance up at the teachers' table. Nothing too much had changed there, except for a small smile tugging at Professor Dumbledore's beard. At the Slytherin table, the main change was that Rosier had procured a candlestick from somewhere and was now attempting to balance his Easter egg on top of it. Oh, and Snape had started shaking Goyle's egg and holding it up to his ear like an early Christmas present.

Prongs quickly let the two Dungbombs fly, twisting in his seat to aim for the Hufflepuff table and twisting back to lob one over almost past the Slytherins. His accuracy, as should be expected, was excellent. The Slytherin one landed right in between Snape and a laughing Mulciber. The other landed in full sight directly on the Hufflepuff table. Right in front of gossipy Bertha Jorkins and her friends. Predictably, the girls started screaming as a hiss came from the Dungbomb and it started to smell and smoke.

I was impressed that the Slytherins weren't noticing any difference in their own surroundings, instead choosing to laugh at the poor Hufflepuffs as most of the teachers stood to address the disturbance. That is, until I caught a smirk on James's face. "Tell me," I demanded, a hint of a smile betraying me.

"Well. . . . You can set it to loud stink explosion, or pervasive silent soaker," he explained in a whisper.

I was shaking my head in amusement. "Okay, so as soon as the Slytherins get distracted by their own smell, we go into Cast."

Already, the teachers were converging on the spluttering tiny Dungbomb behind us that was emitting a smell of rotten tomatoes and the group of screeching girls that surrounded it. I had to give a point to Prongs for creativity there. I cut off a large piece of my steak, grateful that the house-elves had given me one that was more rare than the surrounding place settings, and started to chew it as Snape and Mulciber wrinkled their noses, eyed each other warily, and glanced away searching for the source of the smell.

Within ten seconds, the whole of Slytherin had settled down from their mocking and were looking around in confusion. The ones closest to Snape and Mulciber were eyeing the two suspiciously. I nodded to James and Sirius and Peter. Together we raised our wands slightly.

"Wingardium Leviosa," I murmured, and all of the chocolate eggs at the Slytherin table rose into the air. Rosier fought with his egg, trying to wrestle it to the ground, and I raised his even higher, guiltily enjoying the panicked look he cast towards the ever farther floor. He eventually let go with a horrified squeak and fell on the bench.

Prongs and Padfoot exchanged one quick grin, before Transfiguring each and every one of the chocolate Easter eggs into a live, furry, and sometimes multi-coloured rabbit.

Wormtail, looking overly excited, attempted to do one all by himself, and ended up making a chocolate egg into a chocolate rabbit. Padfoot and Prongs burst into laughter at his downcast expression, before Prongs took pity and turned the chocolate rabbit into a mud-coloured live rabbit that seemed to twitch an awful lot in the air it was suspended in.

After Prongs and Padfoot had finished, which took roughly twenty to thirty seconds, I quietly banished the rabbits, some back into their owners hands, and some onto the Slytherin table, as planned.

By this time, the teachers had quieted the seventh-year girls that had been the biggest victim of our distraction, and most were already passing the Ravenclaw table to help out the Slytherins. However, the Slytherins, already freaked out by the mysterious sickly sweet smell that had permeated their side of the room, went ballistic at their precious sweets being turned into live rabbits.

Time for Enjoy. The third step to pranking. There were four steps to pranking, did you know that? We had created an acronym for the steps. OCED. The letters stood for Observation, Cast, Enjoy, and Done, or, more than likely, Detention. The D part had been an ongoing argument. Detention seemed to be winning out as most of the school's teachers caught on to our tactics.

Anyway, the Slytherin girls were shrieking in horror; they were even louder and more shrill than the Hufflepuffs. I winced. Having a werewolf's sharpened senses did not help when it involves girls screeching. The Slytherin boys were taking it in turn to retreat from the table, go back and eat a few bites, and run away again as another rabbit got too close. The cowards. Goyle was glaring at Snape as if this situation was all Snape's fault, and Rosier was leaping after the rabbit that had once been his Easter egg, jumping on the top of the table as the rabbit darted and weaved through the feast's dishes. The mud-coloured rabbit looked to be having a seizure in Regulus Black's hands. Ah, so that's why Prongs didn't bother with a more creative colour. And why Padfoot didn't have anything to do with the exchange.

Rabbits of all colours were running up and down Slytherin table. A sickly green seemed to be one of the dominant colours, as were red and gold. The violet ones looked a little shocking, I'll admit, but the best was the rabbit that came from the egg Snape paid Goyle for. Of course, both Padfoot and Prongs had wanted to make that one daring. But for a rabbit to be that disfigured . . . I shook my head in amazement.

The poor animal was multi-coloured, and by that I mean green stripes with orange and blue splotches, red feet and yellow ears. The thing also had a more than vague resemblance to a toad. It had an extra-long tongue that was currently guarding a stash of Licorice Snaps, along with no tail, and the Transfigured chocolate egg had a habit of sitting on its haunches. In place of the tail, there was a huge wart. The look on Snape's face was astonishingly hysterical.

The teachers were having a . . . distracting time dealing with the pandemonium on the other side of the room. I stared, amused, as the wizened Divination teacher clapped her hands together, crossed herself, and dropped to her knees as if she was praying. Professor Slughorn was throwing his belly around, not truly willing to go against the swarm of rabbits now infesting the Slytherin tables. Professor Flitwick looked like a medical examiner as he poked and prodded one of the more exotic rabbits with his wand, nodding to himself every so often.

Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore were the only ones still at the staff table. Professor Sprout had her arms around one of the Hufflepuff girls, and was loudly comforting her that she didn't smell that bad. Professor McGonagall was staring suspiciously at the four of us, and I wondered what punishment she would give us, when something happened to give us away.

My fellow Marauders were having a much harder time toning down their amusement than I was. I would let out a chuckling fit as one of the funnier Slytherins would do something, but I was mostly content with amused stares, and grins that I would hide behind a hand. I could also eat more steak this way. I was probably the most calm of the Marauders, though.

Wormtail was currently experiencing a laughing fit involving squeaking and snorting as he tried to breathe through his laughter. Padfoot was barking a loud laugh, as he observed the Slytherins. Prongs was hunched over and shaking as silent laughs racked his body. And . . . ow, what was that?

I looked down at my arm to see Lils kneading her claws into my sweater. "Oh, no you don't," I muttered, moving my arm up and away from her. She watched the sweater intently as it dangled off my arm. What is wrong with this cat? I lowered my arm again, warily. She wasn't scratching me or anything, just poking my arm with her pinprick claws.

"Look!" choked Prongs. "Look at Snivellus!"

I looked up, distracted from the cat. I immediately saw what James was talking about. Snape had discovered the Dungbomb. I burst out laughing at the expression on his face; I couldn't hold my laughter in any longer. Snape's eyes widened as he made the connection between the sweet scent now enveloping him and the Dungbomb that was still emitting a little perfumed smoke. I laughed as his face looked bewildered. Confused, even.

At that moment, just as Snape was turning to look over at the four of us, the door to the Great Hall burst open.

All the occupants, students and teachers alike, turned to see who had rudely interrupted today's entertainment.

"PEEVES!"

The echoing shout was followed by a cackling noise up by the ceiling. The whole hall had silenced, well mostly. Enough for everyone to hear the labored breathing and awkward running gait of the Hogwarts caretaker.

I looked up at the poltergeist curiously. Peeves was looking absolutely delighted at the mess made by the chocolate-turned-rabbits.

"PEEVES!" yelled Filch once more. "YOU'LL PAY FOR THA—ah." Filch stumbled to a halt upon entering the Great Hall. He looked dumbstruck. That was too much for Padfoot and Prongs. They burst into laughter, and were quickly followed by Wormtail. I was shaking, trying to hold in my laughter and concentrate on the blossoming scene.

"Was there something you needed, Argus?" asked Professor Dumbledore politely.

"How the—? What? Did he—?" Filch stuttered. He looked around at the sheepish teachers and frightened Slytherins and roared, "PEEVES!" That was too much for me. I started laughing too.

Professor Dumbledore smiled slightly before indicating the Gryffindor table. "I'm afraid the culprits for tonight's mess are enjoying themselves right over there."

James, Sirius, Peter and I were brought up short as we exchanged an anxious look. It wasn't as if we hadn't expected to be caught, but to be pointed out in front of Filch was undesirable. He would try to make our lives a living hell if he possibly could and Prongs was already in a bit of a mess from his instinct to trash Filch's office.

Filch looked bewildered, then noticing the four of us, sitting together at the table Professor Dumbledore had indicated, stumped over to glare at us. "Of course, these four," he sneered. "May I have the pleasure of bringing out the chains for this befouling of the castle?" he asked Professor Dumbledore, practically begging.

Professor Dumbledore stared at Filch, eyebrows raised, until Filch ducked his head under the penetrating gaze.

"Of course not," said Professor Dumbledore. "An evening filled with cleaning or writing lines should be sufficient for providing today's excellent entertainment."

"Our pleasure, Professor!" called out Sirius.

"Number thirteen!" squeaked Peter in an undertone.

I shot Peter a bewildered glance, before turning my attention back to the staff table. Dumbledore waved his wand once, and all the rabbits turned back into chocolate Easter eggs. A second flick and all the eggs flew back to their original owners. I noticed Snape glowering as Goyle received possession of his egg. Rosier looked absolutely ridiculous as he was still standing on top of the Slytherin table when his egg rushed back into his hands. Snape looked up at the staff table, calculatingly. I started to glare at him, he better not open his mouth and say what I think he would say.

"Professor?" called Snape. "Don't you think that punishment is a bit light, considering the emotional trauma we just went through?"

"Emotional trauma, Severus?" questioned Professor Dumbledore lightly as I glowered at Snape. "After all, it was just a prank. Everyone received back what was theirs to start with. The Marauders may see Professor McGonagall or Mr. Filch to set up a time and place for their detention. And let the feast go on!"

At Dumbledore's last words, the plates refilled themselves with even more food, and Snape slumped in his seat as he glowered at us. As the chatter started to fill the room once more, I noticed the cat, Lils, had backed away from me. She was staring at something at the end of the table as she backed into James's arm. Automatically it seemed, James scooped up Lils and glanced toward the end of the table to see what she was looking at. He froze.

I chanced a glance in that direction, and was met by the leering figure of Filch, his cat wrapped around his shoulders. I froze too. Sirius and Peter both looked to see what we had turned into statues for, and Peter started shaking when he saw. From what I could see, Sirius's expression turned defiant and insolent.

"And you want?" said Sirius.

"You four will serve your detentions . . . cleaning the trophy room," declared Filch nastily.

Sirius's eyes widened in horror, and then he seemed to get his composure back. "I think I'll take McGonagall's detention over yours."

"Then it will be two hundred and fifty lines, in my office, Mr. Black," came Professor McGonagall's voice. She had somehow swept down the aisle and was standing directly behind Prongs, who jumped at the sound of her voice.

Ha, he wouldn't be leaving dinner without me taking the mickey from him for that reaction.

"What's the day and time?" asked Sirius, a haughty bored tone to his voice.

"Let's try Tuesday evening, seven o'clock sharp," replied McGonagall sternly.

Peter, James, and I exchanged a look and then said together, "I'll take that one too."

McGonagall nodded curtly, and then turned to address the kitten that was still cowering from Filch inside James's arms. "Hello, sweetie. I do hope you enjoy your stay at the castle. Feel free to fish in the lake, chase small forest animals out on the grounds, and any mice you may discover inside the castle are yours for the taking."

The four of us stared at her until she noticed. "I am the designated welcoming committee for all Hogwarts cats," she declared, amusement layering her strict tone.

Her thin lips twitched for a moment as she glanced at Filch. No, beyond Filch. "Isn't that right, Peeves?" she asked mildly. Filch's eyes widened as Peeves blew a raspberry in his ear, and he spun around, a clawed hand reaching for the poltergeist he would never catch.

As we laughed, Professor McGonagall glided back to the staff table, and I looked at my three best friends. "I told you, Mr. Prongs," I had to say. "'D' stands for Detention."

After sparing a laugh for my little joke, we layered our hands on top of one another and all recited, "Mischief managed."

Peter's List

Check. Item one: Hide the map.

Check. Item two: Tell Sirius.

Check. Item three: Laugh off any weird questions.

Item four: But don't laugh when an ironic situation comes up.

Check. Item five: Take a deep breath if the subject comes up.

Check. Item six: Don't hyperventilate when others are discussing cats or Evans.

Item seven: Just stop reminding myself that the cat is Evans.

Item eight: Change the subject if it is hitting too close to home.

Item nine: Don't look suspicious.

Item ten: Don't tell anyone the real reason for this list.

Item eleven: Don't show fear of the cat.

Item twelve: Do be very, very careful around Moony.

Check. Item thirteen: Don't talk or have any conversation with Dumbledore.

Check. Item fourteen: In fact, avoid Dumbledore completely.

Item fifteen: Never look at Evans directly in case her glare makes you feel guilty.

Item sixteen: Make sure not to call Evans "Evans" around anyone who is not Evans.

Item seventeen: Don't let James figure out the cat is Lily.

Check. Item eighteen: Steal Remus's chocolate.

A/N: I did it again. Sorry this is so late. I was having a little trouble with this chapter just because so much happens. So, I am sorry about the wait. Extremely sorry. I won't promise anything because University is starting to get hectic again, but I'll try my hardest to keep going in a timely manner.

My longest chapter yet! Aren't you glad I didn't make this into two chapters, and gave you the whole prank at once? Are you glad that I finally convinced Remus to step out of his shell and tell the prank for me? It did take a good two weeks of arguing, cajoling, and threatening before he gave in. Well, what do you think about this chapter? What's your favorite part so far? Any good dialogue or good rants? Any suggestions? I'll take them into consideration, I promise. Any questions for me?

Can you think of anything else to add to Peter's list? Tell me in a review or PM, and I'll find a way to use it. My only request be that the list consist of rather obvious or pathetic notions, and that it would be absolutely hilarious to make Peter follow through on. Keep them coming! Please!

I'm trusting you, my lurking reader, to step it up and send me a little note. I'm trusting all my stalwarts to keep up the excellent reviews. Keep reviewing, please. I promise I'll respond to all reviews. Even to anonymous reviewers, as long as you include an email address. Don't make me set a review limit for putting up the next chapter. Just review!

Oh, and I've been updating my profile avatar image to correspond with something in each of these chapters. Go ahead and visit my profile, especially if you are waiting for the next chapter. I try to post the next picture during my editing stint.

And it's time for the shameless plug. My new friend Umi Pryde and I have been working on a set of hilarious mishaps that might or might not have happened in the HP World. Check it out. It's called Short Sorcerer Scenes. It is under her profile, or you can check it out from my favorite stories on my profile.

Thank you for reading!