Carry On
By: Teenlaunch
Disclaimer: I would not be writing this if I were JK Rowling. Can we move on?
a/n: I am so SORRY! School caught up to me and I had no time to type. I will have the next chapter out on time. That's why this one is a couple days early. So, TWO WEEKS for the next one! I promise this will never happen again. Thank you for being so patient. Read and review!
"Harry, welcome to Hogsmeade!" James spread his arms, gesturing toward the shops and people. Harry looked around happily, his mood lifting at the sight of the village and its colorful scenery. The Marauders began leading him through the familiar streets, practically dragging him from the displays at times. Harry's eyes lit up at the sight of each store, something that did not go unnoticed by the Marauders. They visited Honeydukes and Zonko's, milling about inside each store for quite some time, and finally dropped into the Three Broomsticks. Harry noted thankfully that nothing in the small inn had changed, unlike the shops outside. He gulped down his butterbeer, thankful for the warmth it gave him even though it was only October. He sighed and settled down in his chair to listen to the conversation going on around him.
"Divination is awful." Peter groaned.
"You're still taking that?" Sirius asked incredulously, moving his mug a couple inches away from his mouth and laughing. "It's a load of dung! You don't need a crystal ball to see that!"
"I thought you said the new teacher was weird," Remus said, a carefree expression on his face as he spun his bottle experimentally.
Peter snorted. "Weird is putting it lightly. She's a student teacher. Boards at the Hog's Head Inn too. Dodgy place."
Harry choked on his butterbeer at this. "W-who is this now?"
"Her name's Sibyll Trelawny. She wears about twenty shawls and has these huge bug-eyed glasses." Peter held up two empty mugs to his eyes, magnifying them to almost ten times their size. "She's creepy." He sat the mugs down amid sniggers. "I mean it. She even has this weird mystic sounding voice."
"How do you know it sounds mystic? For all I know she could sound like your mum!" James laughed. Sirius and James shared a look and Sirius collapsed onto his friend's shoulder, howling with laughter at some inside joke.
Peter blushed to the roots of his hair. Remus shook his head, rolling his eyes slightly and looked over at the bar as he usually did when his friends started to get a tad out of hand. There were the usual students, flirting shamelessly with Madame Rosemerta, the drunks, the townspeople, and Professor Century. Remus did a double take. Teachers were never seen by students in Hogsmeade. They usually used the free time to plan their lessons or relax, but it seemed Century wasn't a normal professor. But then, that was obvious by his gentle, carefree, patient manner. Remus couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a kind professor. The man had his own agenda, and even showed it by changing his lesson plans with a little coaxing from Harry. That was another thing that was different about Century. He loved to be with the students, especially Harry, who seemed to love the attention he received as well. "Hey, guys, isn't that Professor Century?"
The others turned to look, with the exception of Harry. It wasn't surprising that Lupin was here. If this was hard on him, just being around the Marauders, he couldn't imagine how torn up Lupin was, no matter how well the man hid it.
"Yeah, so?" James asked, turning back around to face the others. "Teachers aren't confined to the school, you know."
"It's not only that. Look at him. He's so…"
"Old?" Sirius finished, winking at a couple passing sixth year girls who giggled and blushed.
Remus shot him a withering glance. "No, Padfoot. Seriously look at him. It's like he's ill or something." Harry, now curious, turned with the others to watch Lupin. He was slightly shocked to see how ill Lupin did look. His normally disheveled hair was sticking up in so many directions that he could have been distantly related to James. It looked like he hadn't combed it for days. His face was extremely pale and drawn, and he looked extremely tired, as though he hadn't slept for a week. He would wince every time there was a loud noise and tried to keep his eyes away from the mirror across from him. Madame Rosemerta came over to him and, at his nod, put two drops from a small vial into his butterbeer. The Professor sighed and gulped it down. A small amount of steam issued from his ears and he smiled, looking relieved. Harry guessed it was pepper-up potion she kept in her stores. But why had Lupin wanted it?
"Wonder what she put in his drink," James muttered.
"Love potion?" Sirius suggested, sipping his butterbeer. The others gave him a disbelieving look. He frowned. "What? It's possible. Don't tell me I'm the only one who's noticed she's not married!"
"Sirius, you're impossible." James sighed. "I do agree with you though, Moony. He looks really ill." James tipped his chair back onto two legs, hands clasped loosely behind his head.
Sirius rolled his eyes and leaned forward so his elbows rested on the table. "I still say he looks old."
"Not that old," James protested.
"He has gray hair!" Sirius responded, eyes wide, obviously not understanding why they weren't agreeing with him.
"I have gray hair, and I'm only seventeen!" Remus interrupted indignantly as Sirius reached lazily for his drink.
"So what if he has gray hair?" James asked Sirius, acting as though he hadn't heard Remus.
"So, he's old!" Sirius waved his mug in the air, raining small drops of butterbeer over the table.
"Are you trying to imply something?" Remus growled, his eyes narrowed.
"Pads, you need to lay off the firewhiskey. They say the mind's first to go, then the ears, then the eyes, don't remember what's next…" James's voice trailed away as he watched Sirius puff up in mock indignation.
"I'll have you know my mind, ears, and eyes work perfectly!"
"But are they functioning to the highest degree?" Remus asked slyly, smirking.
"Ye – now how should I know that?" Sirius snapped, glaring at the werewolf.
"You hesitated," Remus chuckled, looking smug. "And you ignored me for a good two minutes."
"I chose to ignore you, Moony!"
"How did we get on the subject of Padfoot's mental health?" James asked in a bored tone, staring at the ceiling. "I thought we were discussing Professor Century and how Sirius thinks his gray hair signifies how old he is."
"Which it does not!" Remus interjected. Peter snickered.
Sirius ignored Remus again, earning a glare from the young werewolf. "We were. Then you had to go and change the subject, Prongs." Sirius grunted. "And I've never had firewhiskey in my life!"
"It's not a wise thing to do that, lie, I mean."
James, so startled, fell over backwards as a new voice joined the friendly debate. "P-Professor Century," Sirius stuttered.
A hand came down on Harry's shoulder, lightly applying pressure. He looked up into the newcomer's face and was greeted by Lupin's widest grin. "I couldn't help overhearing."
The boys exchanged startled glances. "S-sorry," James stuttered, hastily getting up.
"It's quite alright. I don't mind, especially when the conversation turns out to be so entertaining." He paused, watching the boys as they laughed and smiled.
"I didn't know we were being so loud," Remus said, a smile still on his face.
"Oh, you weren't that loud. I just have a bit of a sixth sense. I can tell when someone's talking about me. So, because I have gray hair I'm old?"
Sirius gulped, nervous again. He didn't know enough about Century to tease him yet. This was awkward for him. "I-I didn't mean it. Well, okay, I did. I just had to prove my point to Jamsie here."
"Ah, well, I understand, but, for your information, Mr. Black, I am only thirty-seven. Stress can turn a person's hair gray very easily. And, I'll have you know, many of my gray hairs have come from this ruffian here." He ruffled Harry's hair, making it even more unruly than before.
Harry looked up at Lupin indignantly. "I try to get it flat, you know, and you're not helping."
"It looks better that way." James mused. "Now your hair is just as messy as mine."
Harry felt heat creep slowly onto his face at this. Why, he had no idea, but Remus looked at him oddly. "Do you not like looking like James?" He asked. Lupin's hand tightened on Harry's shoulder. He knew the older man wished he had learned to keep his mouth shut and listen when he was young.
"I-It's not that." Harry said, ignoring the sudden ache in his stomach, gripping his mug tightly in his hand. "I just…sometimes I wish I wasn't…that I'm not…who I am."
The Marauders gaped at him, throwing each other bewildered looks. "That was about as clear as mud." James whispered.
"You want to enlighten us, Harry?" Sirius asked.
"Yeah, I've never heard of anyone who wished they weren't…themselves." Peter hid behind Remus when Harry shot him a dirty look.
"It's nothing. Forget I said anything." Harry knew he was shaking, and not only from nerves. How dare Pettigrew ask that? How dare they all pry into his life like this? Couldn't they just leave it alone? Lupin's grip on Harry's shoulder was so great that Harry bit his lip. He could feel his mask slowly building up as his temper rose as well.
"Come on. I want to know." Remus whined, something Harry had never heard him do before.
"Yes; you sound like Siri here. He's always complaining about his family." James mock groaned. Sirius rolled his eyes. "What are you angry about? Did your dad leave you?"
"Put up for adoption?" Peter squeaked.
"Abandoned by the road?" Remus suggested.
"Beaten and humiliated?" Sirius asked, his face one of glee.
"Neglected?" James laughed.
"Forced into something?" Remus glared at Sirius and James.
"Seen someone die?" Peter asked.
"Lost everything to a power-hungry warlord?" Sirius gasped in excitement, almost bouncing out of his seat.
"Stop it!" Harry yelled. His mug exploded sending butterbeer and glass everywhere. The Marauders yelped and covered their faces. A few small shards of glass wedged themselves into Harry's palm but he ignored them. Lupin drew his hand away with a yelp as Harry's magic flared.
Harry simply stared at the table for a moment, breathing heavily. The bar had gone quiet. "Harry?" James asked. "We were just having fun."
Harry took a calming breath and sighed. "I know."
"Then why'd you react like that?" Sirius asked glancing at James.
"You didn't have to blow up like that." Peter said grinning. Harry remained quiet, determinedly looking away from Peter. He simply stared at the butterbeer slowly dripping to the floor from the table.
"You did overreact, Harry," Remus murmured. "We were just spouting whatever came to our minds. It's not like we meant it or anything. I've never even heard of half those things happening to anyone our age." He cleaned the table with a wave of his wand.
Harry stood up quickly, leaving his shattered mug on the table. He was careful to keep his hand from sight, knowing Lupin would become upset at the sight of his bloodied hand. Harry bit his lip to remind him to hold his tongue, but he still bit out a parting thought. "Don't talk about something when you know nothing about it." Harry strode purposefully from the room, trying to keep his anger and hurt under control. As he passed, the lights and mugs on either side of him exploded making people scream while showering each table with sparks, multiple drinks, and glass. He tossed a few galleons to Madame Rosemerta, nodded to her, and walked out into the crisp autumn air.
"Well, that was weird," James murmured.
"Yeah." Remus turned to look at Professor Century, who was gingerly moving his right arm so that it was out of view, but Remus caught sight of it. "Professor!"
Lupin hid his hand quickly. "Yes, Remus?"
"What happened to your hand? Did Harry-"
"Harry can be very…emotional, but he hides them very well normally. I think the new environment is messing with him a bit too much." Lupin drew his cloak tightly around him. "Good day." He turned and rushed out the door.
Sirius let out a whistle after he had walked away. "Did you see his hand?"
"Yeah," James breathed. "It looked like he'd stuck it into a grate, while the fire was going." Peter cringed. "It was all red and bloody."
"But how?" Remus asked. "He wouldn't answer me if it was Harry that did it or not."
"What about it, Moony?" Sirius asked, finishing off his butterbeer. "Why would it matter? You're not making sense."
"If it was Harry, how did he do it? That had to be strong magic. Think about it. That was serious, nothing like the spells he uses in duels. But Century acted as though it happens every day."
"Wonder why he got so upset." Sirius grumbled, "Any normal person would've laughed with us."
"Are you saying you think he's laughing at us?" James stood and the others followed.
Sirius opened his mouth to respond, but Remus beat him to it. "No, Prongs. I don't think he's laughing at all."
-------------------------------------------
"Harry? Hey, Harry!" James waved his hand in front of Harry's face.
Harry jerked out of his silent study of his injured hand. Surprisingly, it had been easy to heal, but it still hurt to write. "What? Sorry. Did you want something, James?"
"I want to know if that Transfiguration essay got on your bad side. You're staring at it so hard that it's going to combust any second!" Sirius laughed, bounding up behind James and throwing his arm around his neck. "I don't know what James wants though. Ask him yourself."
"Shove off, Padfoot!" James hissed. He glanced around quickly and then looked back at Harry. "I need a really big favor."
Harry quirked an eyebrow. "And that would be?"
James looked hesitant to tell him. "I have Quidditch practice tonight and-"
"You're trying to find someone fool enough to do your defense homework for you," Harry finished.
"Well, yeah." James looked relieved that Harry hadn't started yelling.
Harry sighed. "I can't do that, James."
James's mouth fell open. "W-w-why?"
"Tell me how I'm supposed to read an entire chapter for you and then transfer the information from my mind to yours." Harry raised both eyebrows and spread his hands. "I am not telepathic, no matter how much I would like to be. You won't learn anything if you depend on others and Defense is one subject I will not let others weasel out of."
James was dumbfounded. "You mean-"
"There is no way, James. I refuse to read it and then hand you a one-page summary. And I seriously doubt you can talk Remus into it. I believe Sirius is a beater on the Quidditch team so he's out of the question. And you wouldn't dare ask Peter for fear of your grade, correct?" Remus bit his lip to keep from laughing but a few chuckles slipped past his pursed lips.
Sirius, however, burst out laughing. "He got you, Prongs. He got you good!"
James growled and huffed loudly. "Come on, Padfoot. Time for practice," James muttered. Sirius whooped and followed his friend from the room.
Harry sighed and rubbed his temples, trying to fight down the migraine he could feel coming. "That was nicely done." Harry looked up. Lily Evans was standing above him, a smile on her face. "Either you're extremely brave or extremely foolish."
"Both actually," Harry groaned.
Lily laughed as she sat down. "I'm glad you aren't as obsessed with Quidditch as they are." Harry tried to maintain a blank face at this but his hurt obviously showed on his face. She gasped. "You are, aren't you? I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I take it you don't like quidditch much," Harry said, using what little information he knew about his mother to keep the conversation going. Remus snorted from behind his book, catching Harry's attention. "Um, hate it, maybe?"
Lily sighed. "I used to like it. It just got so old listening to everyone talk about it night and day. Besides, it's not my type of sport. I wouldn't like thinking about falling to my death all the time. And Potter goes around talking about it so much, that I can't even stand to think about it."
"So you and James don't get along?" Harry asked tentatively.
Lily laughed. "Potter? No. He gets on my nerves, but he has gotten better. I'll give him that. I'm surprised you can stand him honestly. I mean, don't take this badly; you're different from anyone I've ever met. You have a bit of Potter, Black, Pettigrew, and Remus in you." Harry smiled at her use of Lupin's first name. She definitely wasn't on good terms with the other Marauders yet. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were raised by Potter and his crew of miscreants."
Harry gave her a surprised look though inside he was jumping up and down in delight. "Really? How so?"
"Well, you act like each of them at times. You're quiet and modest like Remus, yet loud and boisterous like Black. And still you're shy and reserved like Pettigrew and outgoing and arrogant like Potter. And you seem to love a great joke. But you're also so different from them at the same time." Remus had started writing, distracting Harry a bit.
"So you're saying I'm just a bundle of paradoxes?" Harry asked, and muttered under his breath, "Among other things." He could feel heat creeping up his neck from the slight blush he knew was starting to show.
"Well, I guess you could say that. Are your parents like that? I mean, are they complete opposites?"
Harry laughed. "Let me put it this way, my father annoyed my mother so much, I'm surprised I'm here."
Lily giggled. "Where are you from?"
"I…" Harry thought quickly, running over the many stories he had thought up while lying awake in bed at night. "I'm really from England, but my parents have taken to traveling. We've been on the road about two years."
"Really? Where've you been?" Lily's eyes lit up in excitement. She reminded Harry so much of Hermione that he had to stop himself from laughing.
"Uh…Well, I've been to Bulgaria, France, Scotland, Ireland, Romania, Lithuania, Italy, Germany, Spain, America, China, just about anywhere you can imagine." Harry breathed a sigh of relief, happy he hadn't forgotten everything he'd learned in History of Magic and Geography. He'd never imagined when they said he'd need it later that this was when he'd recall it.
"Wow." Lily sighed, her eyes glazed. "I'd love to go to all those places. Where'd you like it best?"
Harry grinned, glad he could at least answer one question without lying to his young mother. "At home, in England."
"What about school? Where'd you go to school while you were traveling?"
"Oh." Harry blinked in surprise. "I was…home schooled. My mum taught me." Harry thought he heard Remus's quill abruptly cease its rhythmic scratching but didn't think anything of it.
"What was it like being taught by your mother? Was it odd?" Lily frowned in thought, genuinely interested. "Was she strict or did you hardly do any work at all?"
Harry smiled wistfully, thinking over just what it would've been like to have Lily teach him. He frowned, stood up, and turned away, knowing his face showed his obvious dislike of the subject. "It was about like here. Now, if you'll excuse me." He almost ran to the dormitory steps and started up them, taking them two at a time, and slumped onto his bed. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, for what seemed like hours. The more he thought about his parents, the more painful memories surfaced, reminding him of his situation. He turned over and looked out the window. It was already dark, and, from what Harry could tell by the light of the slowly waxing moon, the pitch was completely empty. Not caring to dwell on the fact that he'd been thinking for so long, Harry jumped up and dug through his trunk. He pulled out his Firebolt and raced to the window. He paused as his rationality caught up to him and bit his lip. Perhaps he shouldn't. What if someone saw him? It could blow everything. Lupin would never be so rash if he was in this situation. Harry shook his head to clear these thoughts, and in an instant, the window was open and he was on his broom, soaring toward the pitch.
Harry felt as if he'd left all his worries back in his dorm. He gave a loud whoop and started doing his most intricate tricks, not even giving his mind time to wrap around the absurdity of the first stunt before he spiraled into the next one. He twisted through the air like the very wind he was riding. He flew straight through the goal hoops and shot upward. When he was so high that he could hardly make out the goalposts, Harry turned a backward somersault and shot like a lance back toward the ground. He was so wrapped up in the exhilaration of the dive that he didn't notice the two figures coming out of the changing rooms.
"That was a wonderful practice! What do you think, Prongs?" Sirius asked, throwing an arm around his friend's shoulders.
"Let me see." James threw his broom over his other shoulder and held up his hands to tick things off on his fingers. "Cory couldn't fly in a straight line. Andrew somehow figured out how to fly into the goalpost. One of my beaters almost killed me!" Sirius gave him a sheepish smile and scratched his head with the end of his broom handle. "No one would listen to me there was so much going on. Linda and Alex are at least making it to the goalposts, but they can't get the quaffle in. They miss it by feet. Feet, Padfoot! Peter's better than they are! Jordan keeps dropping his bat. And he's claiming he has a weak grip. If you have a weak grip you shouldn't be a beater! You shouldn't even be playing Quidditch! Oh, oh! And let's not forget, I was so wrapped up in everything else that I lost the snitch! Can it get any worse?"
"Define worse." Sirius answered quietly, looking up.
James groaned. "Speak English, Sirius. I have a killer migraine, partly thanks to that bludger to the head! And the spectacular fall I-"
"Shut up!" Sirius turned James toward the pitch. "Look!"
"What did you just say to me?"
"Never mind that! Look at him! He's going to crash!" Sirius pointed at the smoky outline of a person who was laying flat against the broom handle. He was heading toward the ground at lightning speed.
James's eyes widened. The player extended his arm, reaching for something glittering near the ground. He was so close. If he didn't pull out… "Pull-" Only inches from the ground, he leveled out, stopping dead, only the grass billowing beneath him showing how close the dive had been. Sirius whistled.
"He could stomp you in a match, Prongs. Wonder who he is."
"I don't know." The person on the broom looked around. His eyes glowed a brilliant green in the moonlight. He suddenly shot upward and flew into the maze of Hogwarts' roofs and out of sight. "But I intend to find out."
-----------------------------
"You can't be serious," Remus groaned, walking into the Great Hall.
"No, he's-"
"Shut up, Prongs! I hate that joke! You know I do!" Sirius snapped, sitting down at the breakfast table.
"Padfoot, just stuff it. I want to hear the story again. So, you two say this guy just dove straight down and didn't crash or anything?" Remus asked calmly, reaching for the sausage.
"Right! And when he saw us, he took off!" James slumped down beside Harry. "Pass the eggs?"
"What are you all on about?" Harry asked as he gave James the eggs.
"These two buffoons want me to believe that they saw someone on the Quidditch pitch last night that could beat even James on a broom," Remus sighed, waving his sausage dramatically in the air.
Harry choked on his juice. "R-really?" He sputtered.
James nodded. "That's what Sirius thinks." He rolled his eyes. "But the thing that is bothering me is that he was in the shadow of the stands, so we couldn't see him."
"Oh…" Harry glanced at the staff table and found Lupin giving him a glare. Harry chuckled nervously. "Uh, right. I'll talk to you all about it later. I've got to go do some…homework. See you." Harry raced out of the hall, only slowing down when he was a few corridors away. He was walking past an empty classroom and when someone pulled him inside.
"How many times have you been told you can't mess with time?" Lupin snapped.
"Three," Harry answered, slightly startled by Lupin's ferocity when he was usually so understanding about such things. "And each time I have been told that we really aren't sure I can mess up the timeline anyway. Besides, all I did was take a little flight around the pitch."
"And you were seen! Harry, they're going to get suspicious of you. They always find out people's secrets. That's who they…we are. We're some of the nosiest people I've ever known."
"Then it won't matter how careful I am. The Marauders will find out anyway."
Lupin watched him thoughtfully for a minute, his face relaxing slightly, the calm and patient man showing through now that he was thinking rationally. "You're right, but that is no reason to be careless. We still don't know why we're here. We have to be alert."
--------------------------------------
"I don't know. I think he's Slytherin honestly." Sirius stretched and yawned, looking around at the others to see their reaction.
"No way. That guy was definitely a Ravenclaw." James argued, shaking his head as he looked at Sirius who was walking beside him.
"What makes you say that?" Peter squeaked, almost jogging to keep up with the three much more graceful boys.
"He took off when we saw him. That was the smartest thing anyone could've done. Could you see a Slytherin doing that?"
"I don't think-" Remus stopped, throwing his arm out to catch the others in the chest, stopping them in their tracks. He shushed them as they protested and leaned toward a door a few feet to his right.
"You're right, but that is no reason to be careless. We still don't know why we're here. We have to be alert." A voice was coming from the classroom. The Marauders crowded around the door so they could hear better.
"So you're saying I already have to be miserable and now I have to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground? That doesn't seem fair." The second voice paused, as if contemplating his reasoning, and laughed bitterly. "Since when is my life fair?"
The other person sighed. "Just be careful. I know that is very hard for you to do, but I desperately need you to listen to me this time. Just lay low, please?"
"Come on! They didn't even see my face! They don't know that it was me on the pitch. And what would they do if they found out anyway?"
The Marauders looked around at each other, smirking. "I don't care. I know how their minds work and soon you will too. But until then stay under their radar."
"Fine. May I go now that I have been thoroughly interrogated?" The second voice held a slight edge now. The doorknob turned and the Marauders scrambled quickly for cover behind a pillar, Sirius on James's shoulders with Remus crouching near the ground and Peter as a large rat perched near his feet. The door swung open and they peered around the pillar in interest. Their eyes widened when Harry backed out of the classroom. He glanced around and ran down the corridor without a backward glance.
The Marauders watched as Century came out as well and mimicked Harry. As the professor began walking toward them down the hall, Sirius slipped from his spot on James's shoulders and fell to the ground with a muffled thump. His foot stuck around the pillar, right in the professor's way. He couldn't move fast enough. The Marauders braced themselves for the impending collision, but it never came. Professor Century, still gazing straight ahead, stepped nimbly over Sirius's foot, and walked on. The Marauders had just breathed a sigh of relief when a calm voice floated back to them. "I believe you boys might need a better pastime. Your current one might get you in trouble some day. So get back to your dorm and never let me see that pet rat of yours again."
The Marauders wheeled around. Professor Century still had his back to them, but he was the only one in the hall. The boys gulped visibly and sprinted all the way back up to Gryffindor Tower. Sirius collapsed in a heap on his bed, laughing heartily. "The new teacher let us off!"
"I don't see what's so funny about it," Remus mumbled, letting his breathing become even again. "We could've been in serious trouble."
"Yes, we couldn't have marred your perfect record now could we?" James asked, ambling slowly around the room.
Remus snorted, watching him. "What perfect record? With you all around, I must have the worst record in the school."
"No, no. You've got it all wrong." James sat down on the window seat, grinning widely at his friend. "You don't have the worst record in the school. No."
"You have the worst record in the world!" Sirius laughed, sitting up.
"I don't find that funny." Remus sat beside James on the window seat, pulling one leg to his chest.
"Yeah, well, you wouldn't." Sirius rolled his eyes and attempted to sit between his two friends, but found he couldn't. Instead, he transformed into Padfoot and jumped up onto their laps, forcing Remus to put his leg down. Padfoot lay down across their laps, head on James's knees.
"Get your furry, flea-bitten behind out of my lap!" Remus pushed Padfoot, but he had planted himself firmly. Padfoot merely grinned toothily back at him, a strangely smug expression on his face.
Peter grimaced. "Century called me a pet rat! That was so –"
"True?" James asked innocently, laying his hand on Padfoot's head.
Peter glared at him and crossed his arms. "No, judgmental."
"You were a rat! What did you expect him to do? Fetch Mrs. Norris?" Remus smirked at the panicked look on Peter's face.
"Ha, ha, very funny. But anyway, I don't understand why Professor Century was so upset with Harry." Peter yawned, laying down on his bed.
"I don't think he was mad. I think he was-"
"Off his rocker?" James finished for Remus. He was scratching Padfoot behind his ears, making the bear-like dog's tail beat against Remus's chest.
"No," Remus snapped, vainly trying to catch Padfoot's tail as it beat slowly higher, toward his face.
"Maybe they're hiding something," James suggested still patting Padfoot's head as the dog's eyes slid shut in content.
"He could be a secret agent or something! He could have a code-name and everything!" Peter squeaked excitedly, sitting up again.
James's eyes widened and he jumped up. Padfoot fell from his lap and landed face first on the floor. He quickly transformed. "Get your feet out of my face before you break my nose!" Remus yelled, his patience finally snapping as he dodged Sirius's feet, pushing him away.
"Your nose! What 'bout my nose?" Sirius sat on the floor, nursing his bleeding nose. "Wha' was dat fo', Prong'?"
"Peter gave me an idea." James started throwing things haphazardly from his trunk as the others watched in confusion.
"I don't underst – Ah!" Remus ducked a boot that almost hit him. It bounced harmlessly off the window and thumped to the floor. "Watch where you're throwing that stuff! You're going to kill one of us!"
"Better you than me, eh?" James joked, still rummaging. "Ah ha! Here it is!" James stood up. He had a simple piece of folded parchment in his hand.
"Da Maraubers' Mab!" Sirius exclaimed, his nose making it hard to talk.
"Since when was it the Maraubers' Mab, Pads?" Remus asked. Sirius glared at him. Remus sighed and tapped Sirius's nose with his wand and said, "Episkey."
"Thanks. But what's that got to do with Harry?" Sirius got up, rubbing his nose, as Remus used his wand to remove all traces of Padfoot's presence from the window seat.
"Everything!" James shouted, brandishing his wand. He tapped the map and exclaimed, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
"What are you doing?" Sirius sat on James's closed trunk and watched as the map came alive.
"Finding our lost friend, and his favorite teacher." James scanned the map quickly. He frowned. "I don't see – wait! Harry's in the Astronomy Tower. But…I don't understand."
"What?" Remus asked, lying down on the window seat which was finally free of dog hair.
"The map, it…Harry's last name is…gone." James held the map up to the light to examine it.
"Gone?" Peter asked, perplexed.
"Yes, and it – hang on a moment! We've got a stray dot."
"That's impossible!" Remus cried, his head shooting up from its pillow.
"But look! It's headed to Professor Century's office." James followed it with his finger as it swiftly crossed the map.
Sirius grabbed the map from James. "I don't see Professor Century. He's not here. I mean, he's not on the map."
"Is it possible there's a glitch on the map?" Remus sat up, supporting himself on his elbows.
"There wasn't before. Could someone have jinxed it?" James asked, running his wand over it.
"I doubt it. Nobody knows about it but us, right?"
"Yeah."
"No one could've figured it out that quickly, even if they found it. The map is too well protected."
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Harry sneaked back into the dorm early in the morning and crept into bed. He had stayed in the Astronomy Tower to think after his conversation with Lupin. The man knew how to get him thinking. And now look where that had landed him! Sneaking into his dorm in the early hours of the morning so he could catch a few hours and be up in time for classes the next morning. He had to have a death wish. Harry winced as the bed creaked under him. He glanced at his watch and almost moaned aloud when he saw it was five. He slumped onto his pillow in defeat and fell into a fitful sleep.
"Is the plan in motion then, Wormtail?" A high-pitched voice came from Harry's own mouth and he shivered in revulsion.
"Y-yes, My Lord," a short, balding man quivered in front of him. "My memories are coming back. He is in his dorm as we speak."
"Good." The cold voice laughed. "Bring me the Inflectos."
Wormtail scurried away and brought a box to him. He took it gingerly, almost reverently, from his servant's hands. Inside was a pile of the strange little objects that he had so painstakingly planned to steal. Harry's anger flared as he realized what it meant, his own emotions overriding his enemy's. "Yes. Harry Potter will soon meet his end." He caressed one with his long white fingers and laughed quietly. He snapped his gaze onto the cowering man before him. "Gather the Death Eaters, Wormtail, even the two in the dungeons. I may find a use for them yet."
"Yes, of course, Master. They will be brought." Wormtail scrambled from the room. Harry tried to turn his head to watch him go, but found his eyes turning to a large black snake.
The cold laugh sounded from his mouth again as he reached out with his bony hands to stroke the snake's body. He hissed to her, and Harry felt his body tremble. "Go fetch your dinner, Nagini. It's waiting over in the corner for you."
Harry watched the snake as it slithered to a dark corner of the room. Harry felt his blood run cold. A man's corpse sat slumped against the wall. His eyes were blank and staring. Harry watched in horror as the massive snake came nearer and nearer to the body. Just when the snake had reached it, Harry's scar suddenly seared with pain. He screamed as the cold laugh rang in his ears, causing his scar to burn even worse.
Harry felt a sudden pressure on his stomach and someone yelled. "Get his legs or he's going to knock my teeth out!"
"Got it!"
"I've got his other arm, James."
"Good, Remus. Where's the water, Sirius?"
"You told me to get his legs!"
"Someone just get the water!"
The laughter continued to ring in Harry's head, slurring the words. He screamed again as his scar throbbed painfully. A sudden spout of cold water made him sit up, throwing the Marauders away from him as he curled into himself. He could feel his whole body shaking. A hand lay gently on his shoulder making him recoil.
"Whoa, Harry. We're not going to hurt you." Remus sat in front of Harry, making the bed sink slightly. "Get him some water."
Harry pushed the water away when James offered it to him. "No," he rasped. "I'm fine."
"Fine?" Sirius roared. "Fine? You were screaming loud enough to wake up the whole bloody castle!"
"Sirius, you're not helping. Can't you see his head hurts?" Remus turned back to him with a smile on his face. "Let's put it this way, Harry. You woke up exhibit A) James the Human Chainsaw and exhibit B) Sirius the Living Undead. Does that put it in perspective for you?" Remus asked quietly, his voice like a soothing balm to Harry's aching head. Remus pressed the water into his hand again. Harry thought for a moment that his eyes were deceiving him and it wasn't a young Remus Lupin before him but the beloved Professor. He blinked and found a seventeen year-old Remus staring worriedly at him, a mixture of pity and understanding in his eyes.
Knowing Lupin would berate him later for not following his younger self's instructions, Harry lifted the cup to his mouth with a quivering hand. Water dripped down his chin and he suddenly choked on it, spilling it all over himself. His stomach was churning so badly that he couldn't even stand the water running down his throat. He placed his head in his hands, shaking so badly that the bed trembled. Harry opened his eyes again rather quickly. Each time he closed them he saw the dead man staring into his eyes, as though accusing Harry of letting him die.
Harry groaned and tried to crawl past the Marauders, but they pushed him back against his pillows. "Where do you think you're going? You're in no state to even be moving."
"I need my trunk."
Sirius opened it and poked his head around to look at him. "What am I looking for?"
Harry frowned. He could have sworn he'd locked his trunk. He prayed desperately that Sirius would follow his instructions and not root around more than necessary. "There should be a small box in the top left corner. Can I see it?"
Sirius got up and placed a small black box in Harry's lap. Harry flipped it open with trembling hands. His scar seared with pain again. Biting his lip, he rummaged through the box. It was full of small glass vials. They were filled with potions of every color.
"Harry, what exactly is this?" James asked, watching as Harry sorted through the various potions, grumbling as he put each one down.
"My personal store of potions. They're basic, but powerful. I advise you to never try to use them." Harry pulled out the smallest vial and held it up to the dim light. A small amount of black liquid swirled around inside. Harry unstoppered it and downed it in a single gulp. He screwed his eyes shut as it traced a burning path down his throat.
"Harry?" James asked, concerned that he was making such a face after the small amount of potion.
Harry's eyes snapped open. "What? I'm fine now." He replaced the vial, knowing he had to make the potion again soon. But on the positive side, his scar felt perfectly normal again. The numbing potion had done its job. He lay back down contentedly.
"What was that?" Remus asked.
"Dreamless sleep potion," Harry lied smoothly. He'd done the same to Aunt Petunia when she had asked if it was drugs. Not that it was, but he didn't need her knowing he was brewing potions in the dead of night, right under her nose.
"You have nightmares often?" Peter asked from his bed.
Harry nodded. "I had a rough childhood. Some things just don't leave you." Harry sighed. "Sorry I woke you. Go back to bed."
The guys nodded and got up, all but Sirius. He stared at Harry for a long moment before turning to his bed and whispering, "That was no dreamless sleep potion."
Harry drew his curtains closed and placed a silencing charm on them before he could say anything else. He was in for another rough year.
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A man who lacks judgment derides his neighbor, but a man of understanding holds his tongue.
Proverbs 11:12