Chapter Ten: Holidays at Hogwarts

Lily frowned as she stirred her cauldron full of good cheer concoction (it smelled strongly of peppermint and was - Slughorn told them - very useful on those not feeling the spirit of the current season). All the boys were missing from the dungeons. And they had been missing all day. It was normal - almost to be expected - for Lupin to miss lessons every so often. And they had all taken to bunking off History of Magic on a Wednesday afternoon recently. But she couldn't for the life of her work out where the other three might have got to today.

Not that she cared where Potter was. She could not be less interested. But still … it was strange for him to be missing like this.

'What's that on your mouth?' Sev interrupted her reverie.

'Hmm? What?'

'On your lips. They're all pink. What have you done?'

'Oh…' she blushed furiously. The truth was - Mary had pilfered a lipstick she had found abandoned in one of the girls' bathrooms and they had all put it on up in the dorm. Well, they had to try something!

There had been a fresh bout of Kneazlemania, when the Christmas single was released. ("Yuletide Joy is Here Again" - which Potter pointed out loudly and often was "a total cheat of a song as they just repeat the same words over and over and then Bobby Darrow wishes his fans "A Merry Crimbo" - and that's it - and that's enough to get the girls wetting their knickers. I mean, how thick do you have to be to fall for that?" But what did Potter know when it came to art - or love?) But Lily and the girls had started to notice that some of their competition - when it came to securing the hearts' of the band - were considerably older than they were.

Some of these girls would leave Hogwarts soon - and then they might meet Bobby and the others and get married to them, while Lily and Petra and the rest were still stuck in Charms class like silly, little nobodies. They couldn't have their husbands stolen away from under their noses. Who would they marry if the band got snatched up? Who would be left? Potter?

So - they needed to do something. It was imperative. And to that end they had decided to make themselves more adult and sophisticated, to prove how mature they were … To that end they were wearing lipstick.

Only now Sev was staring at her like she had clown makeup smeared across her face. And suddenly she didn't feel grownup and sophisticated at all - but like a silly little girl.

She flushed. 'Lupin is missing class again,' she said - hoping to distract Severus. 'It was the full moon last night.'

It worked. Sev stopped looking at her and instead turned to frown at the empty back bench.

And - feeling slightly guilty for throwing Lupin under the bus like that - Lily surreptitiously wiped the lipstick from her mouth, and resolved to find another way to prove how sophisticated she was.

…

Remus refused the sleeping draught when Madam Pomfrey offered it to him. He had forced down the healing tincture - though he was so filled with dread he was sure he would throw it back up again. But he could not face the thought of going to sleep - and waking up to find he was expelled. Or worse. 'I want to stay awake, Madam Pomfrey,' he said - quietly but determined. 'Until we know…'

And the matron had just looked at him sadly and then agreed. She had fluffed his pillows, patted him on the arm and told him to call for her if he needed anything. And then he sat, rigid and still in the hospital bed - his eyes fixed pointedly on the door … and waited.

The hours ticked by slowly - his eyes never left the door, and - honestly - he wasn't sure if he wanted it to open or not. He wanted the waiting to be over … but he was so terribly afraid of what might come next.

And then, after what seemed like an eternity and like no time at all - all at once - the door burst open and his friends poured in. His heart hammered in his chest … feeling like it might explode. And then he saw - they were smiling.

'Good news!' James beamed at him. He held up a copy of the Prophet and shook it under Remus's nose.

Man Mauled in Matlock!

The headline screamed. 'I mean, it's not good news for - you know - the dead person …. But you're in the clear!' His face was lit up like a Christmas tree. 'You definitely didn't leave the shack, there were no attacks here and - whatever that old Jenkins Hag says - they can't expel you and they certainly can't send you to prison!'

'What's all the noise?' Madam Pomfrey bustled over frowning. 'He needs rest.'

'He didn't do it!' James shook the paper under her nose too.

'Well, of course he didn't do it,' though she looked very relieved as well. 'Now - you lot, shoo-' she chased them out, and turned to look at Remus. 'I'm sure Professor McGonagall will be by to speak to you soon. And, once she's gone, will you try and get some sleep then?'

'Yes, Madam Pomfrey.'

'Good - I want you rested and fit by Christmas day.'

...

Taking the sleeping draught that late in the day, he ended up sleeping for the rest of Friday and all through the night. By the time he woke up, the Hogwarts Express had already left for London - with Peter on it (it was a good job Remus had been planning to use floo powder anyway).

When he returned to the Gryffindor common room, it was to find it completely empty apart from James and Sirius - and the strains of The Kneazles playing.

Underneath the grey, London skies

I think I'll go right now

To the centre of the road, next to Flou-rish and Blotts

where you find the brooms in qual'ty quidditch supplies

And though the broomstick in the window never flies

It's the finest prize.

Di'Gon Alley, Florean serves another iced sundae

James had a disgusted look on his face, but a moment later he managed to change the frequency and tune into "A Question of Quidditch" . He gave a strangled cheer - and then grinned when he saw Remus standing there. 'You're back!'

Sirius put down his crossword, 'how are you feeling?'

'Better. Relieved. Glad to be going home. Glad I get to come back.'

'It'll be quiet without you around.'

'Everyone says that whenever I leave somewhere. I don't make that much noise! Are you sure the two of you will be OK, here by yourselves?'

But Sirius grinned broadly. 'It will be the best Christmas ever.'

Mr. and Mrs. Potter had arranged a last minute trip to Turkey, to visit a Chimaera sanctuary, and James and Sirius already had plenty of plans as to what they would get up to once they had the castle to themselves. (Not that they were getting it completely to themselves, they had - to their disgust - discovered that Snivellus was staying down in the Slytherin common room).

'Come on - we'll help you take your stuff down to Big Macca's office.' Together, the three of them manhandled Remus's trunk and school bag down the stairs and over to Professor McGonagall's office, where he would be flooing out from.

The Professor's nostrils flared when she saw James and Sirius. 'I trust I'll not have to spend the school holiday chasing around after you two?' she said - though there was a definite twitch to her lips.

'What? Us? Professor!' James sounded injured, 'Professor, we will be quiet as mice.'

'Hmmm … well, Lupin - whenever you're ready.'

He took a pinch of the floo powder she held out to him, cast it into the flames - which turned green, stepped into the fireplace and gave his address. The flames leaped higher, there was a wooshing noise, a sensation of tumbling through the blackness, and then - just like that - he was home for the holidays.

…

The train ride home seemed very long and lonely, to Peter, travelling all by himself for once. But Remus lived in the north and used floo powder to travel during the school year - and James and Sirius were staying in school, and he hadn't really been invited to stay with them … so here he was. Trying not to look like a Billy No Mates.

He sat hunched up in the corner of a packed carriage, where everyone else was hanging out with their friends, and he read his comics and tried to pretend that he didn't care he was by himself.

When it got to lunch time, he packed his comic away and went out to find the trolley witch - hoping to get a pumpkin pasty or a cauldron cake. Instead, he found trouble.

The lunch trolley was just outside a compartment filled with Slytherin first and second years. Mulciber and Avery were in there, along with some of the girls from their year (including Leticia Zabini - who Peter secretly thought was very pretty, though he would never tell James that) as well as Sirius's younger brother, Regulus, and some of his new friends.

Peter was quite good at skulking and - determined not to draw attention to himself - he made himself as small and unobtrusive as possible and waited quietly to be served. It would have worked too - he would have been clean away, only the door to the compartment slid open at the exact wrong moment and Mulciber stood there, drawling at the trolley witch for a packet of Droobles Best Blowing Gum - and snap to it.

He spotted Peter. Peter shrank back. But Mulciber's face had lit up in a wicked grin. 'Where are the others?' he asked.

'In the next carriage. They're right behind me.' Peter didn't even blink as he told the lie.

But somehow Mulciber wasn't fooled. 'That great, greedy git, Potter, would be here by the trolley shoving his face with sweets if he was here.'

'He sent me to go get them for him - so he didn't have to get up.' And that would have been a perfectly believable cover story … if he wasn't clutching only one, rather sad pumpkin pasty. He handed his sickle over to pay for it - and tried to scuttle backwards - but, as the trolley pushed off down the corridor, Mulciber reached out and grabbed him, hauling him into the carriage filled with Slytherins.

'Look what we have here!'

The gathered Slytherins all hooted and cackled in delight.

'He hasn't got his protectors around,' Mulciber told them. 'Which means we get to have fun.'

Peter squirmed in his grip, trying to get free. He made eye contact with Regulus, but Regulus looked away.

'Petrificus totalus,' he heard someone shout - and he went stiff as a board and keeled over, slamming onto the floor. High above him, everyone laughed - and then he saw boots swinging towards him. And, even though he was frozen, he could still feel the sharp kicks to his ribs - and the one to his nose.

The jinx began to wear off - but he stayed lying still. They would only jinx him again if he tried to get up. He wondered if he could reach for his wand in his pocket without them noticing. Not that he was any great shakes with it - but maybe he could hold them off long enough to get out of the door.

Another boot kicked him - and they must have noticed he was no longer frozen, his flesh must have felt softer - because he was hit with the jinx again.

Lying there, stiff and helpless, he had a sudden wild fantasy of the door flying open and James storming in with his wand out, cursing all the Slytherins - turning them into frogs - pulling Peter to his feet and dragging him to safety.

But James was not here. He was at Hogwarts with Sirius, and Peter had not been invited to stay with them - and now he was left to the mercy of the Slytherins.

'Stand him up,' he heard Avery say, 'get him stood up.' And he felt hands grip him under his arms - and Regulus and another first year were holding him frozen in place while Avery levelled his wand at him.

'I've been meaning to try human transfiguration,' Avery said, nastily. 'Though I heard it can go… badly wrong .' The Slytherins all laughed again. Peter would have squeaked in fear, only his vocal chords were frozen. They didn't study human transfiguration until sixth year … if Avery tried something …

Avery whirled his wand over his head and then pointed it at Peter. Sparks flew from the end. Peter jolted in the arms of his captors as he was hit and then he felt … he felt something pushing out of the base of his spine. The petrifying jinx wore off just in time for him to howl out in horror as a tail burst out of his skin and ripped its way through his robes - and then swished, bald and pink, in the air - as the Slytherins fell about laughing.

He bit Regulus, kicked the other boy in the shins and - not looking at where Leticia Zabini was holding her sides while tears streamed down her face - he ran out of the compartment. His giant rat's tail whipped round the corner to more delighted howls of mirth from his tormentors. 'Not bad for a first attempt,' he heard Mulciber say. 'There must have been too much rat in the ratty, little bastard for you to turn him completely.'

Peter scampered down the train - his tail following him, flicking and tugging and waving around and totally out of control. Everyone who saw him burst out laughing … until (still chuckling) one of the Gryffindor prefects took pity on him and vanished the tail. There was still a large hole in the seat of his robes though and, burning with humiliation, he slunk back to his own compartment and hid behind his comics and did not make eye contact with anyone until they got back to London.

He was never getting the Hogwarts Express alone again. He would beg his mum to let him floo back to school, or he would just refuse to go back. It was not safe for him without the others around. He needed his friends and protectors.

…

The two boys had had the most brilliant first day of the holidays. They had been sledging all afternoon (which was not as much fun with only the two of them, as the sledge did not go as fast - but was still much better than sitting on a train all day, watching Peter eat sweets) and had stayed out until it got dark and they were breathless and gasping with laughter and utterly soaked through.

Now they were drying out in the Gryffindor common room in front of the fireplace, their legs stretched out; roasting their toes and toasting marshmallows on the flames.

'This is so much better than going home to my horrible family and being muttered at for two weeks,' Sirius said, spearing a crumpet onto the end of a toasting fork.

'This is how Hogwarts should always be - us two, no class, the castle to ourselves and…' James' eyes lit up, 'a Snivellus to hunt.'

'It'd be good if Remus was here too.'

'Nah - he wouldn't let us hunt Snivellus.'

Sirius gave his bark of a laugh. 'True. Just us two then. What are we going to do?'

'We're going to go to the library.'

'Er - mate? Did you just get dropped on your head and I didn't notice? It's the hols. We're not going to the library. We're supposed to be hunting Snivellus.'

'Precisely.'

'Is he in the library?'

'No - maybe - I dunno - but he won't be when we go there. We'll take the cloak and go tonight … to the Restricted Section . I heard they had all sorts of really gruesome books in there. Filled with really horrid stuff. We're gonna look at it all … and then pick out a few nice curses for our friend with the abnormally large nose.'

'Excellent!' and Sirius gave a rather nasty laugh.

So that night - when the already silent castle would be even more still - they got out the invisibility cloak and crept their way down to the library. It was all dark inside, and thankfully there seemed to be no sign of either Madam Pince or Mr. Filch looming from the shadows. They sneaked into the Restricted Section and lit a lamp.

'Careful,' James warned. 'I hear some of the books bite.'

And - as it turned out - one of them screamed! When Sirius opened it, it just started howling. He slammed it shut, they ducked back under the cloak and waited a few minutes. But no one came and they decided to risk a second venture.

They made a pile of the oldest, grimiest, most worn, most blood stained books - as they figured these would be the ones with the really nasty stuff in - and went over to a table to start their reading.

'Brilliant!' James breathed, looking at illustrations depicting wizards with extra hands growing out of their heads, and tentacles growing from their torsos. Every drawing showed an intense look of pain and distress on the wizard's face.

Sirius flicked his way through a book called "The Hideous Hexes of Herpo the Foul". It was apparently both a grimoire and biography of the man purported to be the first dark wizard.

The Path to Immortality

Sirius read as he turned the page.

Before he created his first horcrux (a form of magic so dark we will not discuss it here) Herpo the Foul tried many things so that he might live forever.

It has long since been known that Vampires achieve their own great age by draining the life force (blood) of humans - thus taking on their victim's years of life and adding them to their own. (Even muggles are aware of this practice - as evidenced in the 1897 muggle book "Dracula" … and it is believed that it has become knowledge among the non-magicals due to the excesses of Count Orlock and his family in the Carpathians [family motto "Sanguis Noster Primitiva Sua" or "Blood is our Birthright"] Indeed some of the Orlock family have been said to live upwards of 700 years on muggle blood alone. Though wizarding blood is preferred - both for taste and longevity.)

Hoping to learn the secrets of the Vampires, Herpo the Foul devised his own method of stealing life force from humans in order to extend his own life…

Sirius wrinkled his nose in disgust …. But somehow, couldn't look away.

First, he would mark the throat of a victim with the symbol of ouroboros - the snake which eats its own tail, a symbol of eternity (and particularly pertinent to Herpo the Foul - as a parselmouth and first known breeder of a basilisk). The Blood would drain from the wound and Herpo would drink it. Then he would steal his victim's dying breath, sucking it from their mouth - as a dementor sucks out a soul - and then he would carve open their chest and devour their heart….

'This is disgusting …' he muttered, still reading avidly.

… Although a Horcrux will anchor a soul to this reality, it is not enough to prevent the mortal body from withering, ageing and ceasing to function - at which point the dark wizard becomes nothing more than the meanest ghost. Therefore it was important to Herpo the Foul that he find a way to keep his mortal body robust and living, if he were to attain true and useful immortality.

He developed his own numerological pattern to the killings, taking seven victims in a row (seven being the most magical number) before waiting for a quarter of a year and then taking seven more. It is thought he repeated this seven times, totalling 49 deaths (using this method at least, the full body count attributed to His Foulness is far higher overall).

However, despite his efforts, it remains unknown whether or not the magic that keeps Vampires alive can truly be used by a human, and if he was successful in extending his life, or if he just simply murdered and cannibalised innocent people.

'Have you got anything good?' James asked him.

'I don't know, are we planning on murdering and cannibalising Snivellus?'

'... Er…' James blinked. 'Probably not. He's pretty greasy.'

'Then no. Pass me another book.'

They leafed through the pages for a few more minutes - occasionally pulling faces and showing each other the worst they could find. 'This curse would turn him inside out,' James said, holding up a book with a very … graphic drawing in it. 'Look - blood, guts, the whole lot on the outside. Greasy skin on the inside.'

'I mean he'd be better looking that way,' Sirius sounded thoughtful, '... but we'd probably be expelled.'

'Or arrested.'

'Yeah - I don't really fancy wasting my life in Azkaban, thanks.'

'Maybe these are too nasty.'

'When it comes to Snivellus, is there any such thing?'

James smiled, but he stuck to his point. 'There's having fun - there's giving him what he has coming … but there has to be a line on the Quidditch pitch you don't cross, you know? And maybe giving him…' he squinted at the book, '"razor filled testicles upon his chin", is that line. Maybe we should keep it more … family friendly? We don't want to get mixed up in the Dark Arts - these curses aren't really for people like us. They're for people like him .'

'Alright then,' he snapped his book closed (with no small amount of relief - there were some really gruesome things in there) 'do you have any better ideas?'

James ginned. 'Actually, I do.'

…

The door to the shop opened, the frosty draught blew in - along with scattered sweet wrappings and cigarette butts - and Lily glanced over her shoulder to check it was no one she knew. Then she went back to nervously eyeing up the packet of 20 Silk Cut that was sitting on the shelf - and which was her intended goal.

She picked up the packet and looked at the health warning stamped on the side but … well, that was for muggles, wasn't it? Surely there was a magical way to solve whatever illnesses smoking caused? And these cigarettes were filtered, and hadn't she heard her mum and her Aunty Rose, just yesterday, talking about how they had switched to filtered cigarettes because they were safer?

It wasn't just the health warning troubling her, though. A pack of 20 cost 26p, in new money, and she didn't have that much - nor was she likely to get it.

The signs of poverty were clear to see all around Cokeworth. There was constant talk of the factory shutting down, or lay offs on the horizon; there were still fuel shortages - which meant raised prices and no one had the money to heat their homes. The people she saw on the street were wearing clothes that were old and threadbare; their shoes were scuffed and in need of reheeling; children ran about in oversized hand me downs and with runny noses and nasty coughs.

Hogwarts felt a very long way away indeed.

The muggle world was full of poverty and want and people scraping by. And it seemed to have got worse every time she returned to it. Mothers were anxious, fathers were angry, children cried and teenagers hung about on street corners, glowering. No one had enough. Her mum had to count out every penny just to buy a pint of milk or loaf of bread. And if Lily wanted these cigarettes …. She was going to have to steal them.

Her heart beat a little faster - and she glanced around herself again, checking no one was watching. Mary would just steal them. She'd just slip them in her pocket, smile at the shopkeeper and walk out. But Lily found she didn't quite have the nerve. When it was said Gryffindors were brave and bold, she had the feeling that having the guts to shoplift was not what people had in mind.

But she wanted the cigarettes.

This was what she could do to show how grown up and mature she was. This was how she could make herself look sophisticated. She closed her eyes and imagined herself elegantly drawing on a cigarette, her lipstick staining the tip like a kiss … and her breathing a long stream of wispy smoke into the air - right past Bobby Darrow … and he would turn - and he would see her and …

She didn't want the cigarettes. She needed them. She turned them over in her hand. Her pulse was racing in her throat and at her wrist and - rather annoyingly - in her left eyelid. She could do this - just pop them in her pocket - she could do this - she could do this … she could …

The door opened again. And Tuney walked in with one of her friends. She stared at Lily; the fear and hatred and recrimination that had been there ever since Lily had got her Hogwarts letter, plain to see in her pale eyes.

And Lily blushed furiously, thrust the pack of cigarettes back on the shelf and ran from the shop.

She walked home glumly, her hands shoved in her coat pockets and her feet scuffling along the pavement, kicking at the rubbish that was strewn around everywhere. Tuney would tell her mum what shelf Lily had been standing by … and Lily would probably get a quick crack with her dad's belt for being there. That had been a disaster .

She kicked at the ground again - and then saw something gleaming on it. She bent down and picked it up. It was a penny, someone must have dropped it. She looked around, but there was no one about, so she stuffed it in her pocket - the first inkling of an idea starting to form in her mind.

…

Remus's Christmas was very quiet, which was exactly how he had expected it to be. The stillness and sadness and emptiness of where his mum should be hung over the both of them. It was harder without her when things were meant to be happy, he found. That was when her absence, his loss, loomed largest.

Not that they didn't try to be happy. The tree was already decorated by the time Remus came home from school, and his dad cooked them a turkey with all the trimmings for Christmas dinner - and they pulled crackers (muggle crackers, in honour of Hope - which made a sad little bang and only gave them little paper crowns - but were somehow better than wizarding crackers because they reminded them of her).

And he got presents - probably far more than Sirius got sent by his family. His dad had got him a broomstick servicing kit for his new (second hand) Cleansweep 4, a battered copy of "Lessons on Lethifolds - How To Beat The Living Shroud" by Quentin Trimble, and his mum's old camera ('You can develop the film magically - even though it's a muggle contraption. I thought it was time you started taking photos of the memories you're making with those marvellous friends of yours,' Lyall told him). He also got a bar of Honeydukes chocolate and something his dad handed over to him in an envelope, blushing slightly.

'This is what I've been working on - while you're away,' he said.

Remus took it curiously and opened up the envelope, sliding out a piece of parchment.

In the back of the Broom Cupboard: A Study of the Boggarts of Britain

By Lyall Lupin

It said.

And then there was a dedication:

In loving memory of my beautiful wife, Hope. And for our son, Remus - who came into this world on the back of a boggart.

Remus smiled. He had heard enough times the story of how his parents had met. 'Will you be able to sell this to a periodical, dad?' he asked. 'Will we get some money?'

Lyall laughed. 'Maybe. But don't count your hippogriffs before they hatch.'

Remus had also had presents from his friends to open. James had got him a pocket sneakoscope ( 'but make sure to stuff it in some socks before you get back to school - 'cause we're always doing dodgy stuff and we'll keep setting it off,' James had written). Peter had sketched another enchanted drawing, this one was of the four of them - arms around each other and waving out, like a photograph - which he had put in a frame. But it was Sirius's present that made him laugh. He opened up the Holyhead Harpies badge and the box of chocolate frogs that Sirius had got him, and chuckled when he thought of Sirius's face - back at school - when he opened his own present and discovered Remus had bought him the exact same thing.

Then he had put on the jumper his mum had knitted him last Christmas, bitten into a chocolate frog and started to read his new book. After a while, he became aware of his dad looking at him. 'What?'

'You're still growing - you're going to need a new jumper soon.' And he wasn't wrong - the sleeves now stopped halfway to Remus's elbows. He pulled them down as far as he could.

'It's fine. I can wear it for a bit longer yet.'

…

Back at Hogwarts, things were about as far from quiet as it was possible to be. And the two boys were having the time of their lives. Not only did they get to sledge and snowball fight every day, but they had the run of Gryffindor Tower to themselves - which meant they could put whatever they wanted on the wireless and always got the best seats by the fire.

The smell of cooking had grown stronger and more delicious every day - and they had followed their noses down to the basement corridor lined with paintings of food, and followed a passing House Elf into the kitchens (you just had to tickle the pear in the painting of the bowl of fruit and it turned into a doorknob).

'Now we'll never go hungry again,' James breathed in delight as smiling elves pressed cream cakes on him.

'Er - mate? When have we ever gone hungry at Hogwarts?'

'Sometimes I get peckish in the night. Not any more.'

Christmas dinner in the Great Hall had turned out to be a riotous affair. There were the usual twelve Christmas trees, all towering towards the ceilings and decorated with live fairies and miniature golden owls and never-melting icicles. The tables groaned under turkeys the size of ostriches, there were dishes of sprouts and carrots and roast potatoes and parsnips, pigs in blankets and stuffing and tripe and oceans of gravy.

They all pulled wizarding crackers which went off with the booming sound of cannons ('it sounds like Pete just attempted a freezing charm,' Sirius grinned with his fingers in his ears). And up on the Teachers' Table all the teachers were merrily swapping their wizards hats for the ones they had got from the crackers. Slughorn wore a deer stalker, Dumbledore had a bottle green tophat with a purple flower stuck in the band, Professor Sprout wore a frilly bonnet - which looked very fussy alongside her soily robes and dirt under her fingernails. And Big Macca herself was wearing a Fez at a very jaunty angle.

Hagrid got more and more drunk as the meal went on, his face growing redder and redder - and towards the end he actually kissed Big Macca on the cheek. And she blushed! And giggled!

Sirius, himself, felt very rakish and roguish under his pirate captain's hat, while James sported a cunning cloche.

Over on his own table, Snivellus was not wearing a hat.

Dumbledore unfurled the joke from his cracker and read it out to Professor Flitwick, 'A goblin, a hinkypunk and a hag walk into a bar…'

The turkeys were replaced with a dozen flaming Christmas puddings and then, feeling like they would never want to eat again, the boys made their way back to the common room - to digest … and wait for it to be time to go Snivellus hunting.

Snivellus hunting - it turned out - was the greatest game anyone had ever invented. And they were only sorry they had not invented it sooner.

Last night they had followed Snivellus back to his common room after tea, under the invisibility cloak, and listened in to get the password ("stinkwart"). Then - once they thought he was in bed, they had sneaked into the common room and into Sniv's dorm. They had Petrificus Totalused his sleeping form - and then carried him between them out of the dungeons and up to the fourth floor corridor, where they had stashed him in one of Filch's broom cupboards.

They waited (back under the cloak) and shoved their knuckles into their mouths to stop themselves snorting with laughter when there came a startled and muffled yell from the cupboard - and then hammering on the door, and then Snape burst out, looking very confused and hurrying his way back to his dormitory - hoping no one would catch him out for a stroll in his greying nightshirt.

Tonight they were going to do the same, but stash him under the Teachers' Table in the Great Hall. On Boxing Day they took him all the way down to the Quidditch pitch. The day after they stuffed him inside a suit of armour. It just never stopped being funny, watching him come to in increasingly bizarre spots and having to make his undressed way back to safety.

During the week between Christmas and New Year, Sirius exchanged a spate of letters with Remus, while James did the same with Peter - as New Year's Day would see the Harpies play the Falcons in the traditional holiday match of the season. Good-natured and high spirited tension began to build as they counted down towards it (though Quidditch was of course forgotten whenever it came time to hide a petrified Snivellus: in a grandfather clock, buried in the soil in the greenhouses, in Slughorn's largest cauldron in the Potions classroom…).

On the day itself, they spilled a whole box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans out onto a table, switched on the wireless and waited in eager anticipation - selecting beans for the other to eat in the hope they would get a really disgusting one.

'This one,' James handed one over. Sirius took it, looking suspiciously at it. It was green. 'I'm hoping it's sprouts,' James said.

'Joke's on you I don't mind sprouts.' He bit into 'oh - yeuch!' he stuck his tongue out in disgust and made a retching sound like a cat hacking up a hairball. 'Lime.'

'You're a right weirdo.'

'I don't like limes. Here, this one.'

'This one? You sure? … Looks like toffee.' He bit, chewed … and wrinkled his nose. 'No! Earwax!'

Sirius barked with laughter.

And then - on the wireless - the whistle blew and it was time for broom up. The match was a real nail biter - and the score was neck and neck and the boys were red in the face and screaming at their respective teams to 'go on' and 'get a shift on' and 'stop being soft' and 'just cobb the bugger!' (and back at their homes Remus and Peter were no less tense or more quiet).

And then, three hours in, Violet Vimes for the Falcons snatched the snitch from just by the Harpies middle goal post, meaning the Falcons won by a clean 150 points.

'No!' Sirius screamed at the radio.

'Yesss!' James got up and danced a rather violent war dance of celebration around the room. 'Yess! Yess! Ha ha! What a way to start the new year … get ready for your forfeit, Black!'

'There's still the rematch, Potter,' Sirius told him.

'Oh yeah - and how many points will your girly team be behind by then? Ha ha! I need to write to Peter!'

'Enjoy while you can, mate,' he glowered - and snatched a piece of parchment up so he could write to Remus.

Once the owls were sent - and the waning moon was high in the sky - they grabbed the cloak and made their way to the Slytherin common room. Only tonight they were in for an unpleasant surprise. For Snape was still sitting in there, sitting upright as if forcing himself to stay awake - and still fully dressed.

'He must be trying to find out what keeps happening to him,' James hissed.

Severus stiffened and looked around.

'Berk,' Sirius said - and raised his wand. 'Stupefy.' Red sparks shot from the tip. Snivellus went cross eyed and then keeled over. They went over to look at him. 'I've never stunned anything before.'

'You did a good job. Come on, petrificus totalus, ' and then James grabbed Snivelly under the arms, while Sirius took his feet and they began to manhandle him out of the common room and down the hallways. But they had only just reached the Great Hall when they heard a tiny mewling sound - followed by flat footsteps headed their way. Mrs. Norris was sitting on the bottom step of the marble staircase looking at them and that meant that…

'Filch!' Sirius whispered in panic. 'Quick - stick him in that cupboard.' So they shoved the frozen body in the cupboard in the hallway, sorry to not have an opportunity to put him anywhere more creative, locked the door from the outside and then fled up the stairs and back to Gryffindor Tower.

'It's a shame we won't see him wake up tonight,' James said, as they got into bed.

'There's always tomorrow.'

But the next day Snape wasn't at breakfast … and he wasn't at lunch either. And when they walked past the cupboard, they realised it was still locked. Though Snape had his wand with him, he should have been able to get out easily enough.

'He can't still be in there,' James frowned.

'Who cares if he is?' And Sirius made to head back up the stairs. But James stopped him.

'We should check.'

'Why?'

'Just … In case.' He tapped the lock with his wand and creaked the door open. And there was Severus, still frozen and unconscious on the floor. 'Blimey - but how can…?'

They heard a tapping of boots - and turned to see McGonagall approaching them. 'Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, what are you…' her eyes came to rest on Snape. Her lips went thin … and the jig was very definitely up.