Chapter Fifteen: A Moment of Madness

The girls gathered at the base of the Astronomy Tower, doing their most secretive and surreptitious lurking. They thought this was probably the safest hiding place, well out of the way of everyone, and they stayed pressed into the shadows, against the walls of the castle (if they knew what the boys had done up those particular walls on several occasions - as it was such a good hiding place - they might have kept their distance).

Lily had the packet of Silk Cut and was regaling them all with the story of the unbelievably beautiful boy who had bought them for her. 'He was just so … cool , you know? He wasn't that much older than us - maybe four years but …when you compare him to the likes of Potter .' She sighed. 'And he just had this twinkle in his eye that told of so much experience. And he was really impressed with me - thought I was cool too. He called me "Hellraiser Evans" and told me to look him up again when we needed more … If only we weren't stuck here! You know - if things don't work out between Bobby and me, I really think I might marry him instead.'

'Marry an actual muggle?' Petra asked. 'Oh - wow - that's so … rebellious.'

'Be cool, Petra,' Mary said to her. 'Don't get your knickers in a twist. Me and Lils know loads of actual muggles.'

'You're so lucky.'

'I said be cool.'

'Alright - here,' Lily had slid a cigarette out of the carton and placed it between her lips. She ignited her wand and lit up. Resisting the urge to screw her face up against the acrid taste, she held onto it for a moment and then passed it to Mary. 'The boy said not to inhale first time,' she warned. 'In case you're sick.' (She didn't mention what had happened to her on the monkey bars.)

'So … what do I do?'

'Just - hold the smoke in your mouth and then breathe out. Don't breathe in once you've taken the drag.'

'Alright.' Like Lily, she fought to keep her face from wrinkling in disgust as her mouth filled with the bitter smoke - and then quickly and gratefully passed it along to Mandy. She choked and spluttered and did her best to turn it into an elegant exhale. 'That was so amazing.'

Mandy had the cigarette now, and was looking more than a little green about the gills. 'Oh - I'm not sure I like it.'

'You have to persevere,' Lily told her.

It was passed along to Petra - who complained it made her dizzy and passed it back to Lily.

'Really we just have to get used to it - and then we'll really like it and look effortlessly cool.'

'I already really like it,' Mary said, taking the cigarette back and flipping her hair. Once again she fought like a champion to keep her nose from crinkling. 'See? I've already developed the taste - got the knack.'

Mandy took it back and held onto it for a moment before putting it to her lips. 'Hurry up, Mand - or it'll all burn away!' Reluctantly Mandy took another puff, declared it was the coolest thing ever and then - amid a choking fit - handed it across to Petra.

They passed it back and forth between them, as it burned down lower and lower - trying to ignore the waves of nausea, trying not to splutter and choke, and each of them more and more loudly declaring how they were getting used to it now and how they really liked it and how they just knew that a lifetime of smoking was definitely for them.

'It's Roll and Rock,' Mandy said.

'Rock and Roll,' Lily and Mary chorused.

'That too.' She coughed, and turned a bit green.

They were so busy huddling together, and rhapsodising about the virtues of the filtered tip and the smooth blends of the tobacco, that they didn't notice a shadow suddenly loom across them - and then go still, as if waiting to pounce.

Lily took a drag, went dizzy and struggled to keep her balance. Mary took the cigarette and choked. Mandy actually let out an audible groan when it was her turn again - though she pretended to be enthusiastic. Then she passed to Petra. The moment Petra put the cigarette to her lips, the shadow moved.

'Well, that's all of you!'

They jumped, and turned to look in alarm.

Professor McGonagall was standing right over them, her nostrils flared and her lips disappearing at an alarming rate. 'And that's all of you in detention.' She pointed her wand at Petra - who squeaked in fear - but McGonagall only vanished the cigarette. 'Where are the rest?' she demanded.

Reluctantly, and fighting the urge to faint (which was partly due to the cigarette, and partly due to the way McGonagall was looking at her) Lily reached into her pocket and took out the packet.

'And where did you get these, Miss Evans?'

'I bought them - at home.'

'And where did you get the muggle money to buy them?'

'I - I found it. I didn't steal anything!'

'No? They were all your lost pennies you found were they?'

Lily blushed bright red. 'They were down the side of the couch - or on the pavement-'

'You mean it was someone else's money.'

If it was possible, Lily went even more red. 'My Aunty Rose gave me some.'

'And she gave you it to buy these, did she?'

'...No.'

'What was that?'

'No, Professor McGonagall. She gave me the money for sweets.'

'I. see.' Her voice came out like a staccato burst of jinxes. And the girls flinched backwards. 'Well - I am very disappointed in you all, girls. Ten points from Gryffindor each, a detention apiece and you will all be receiving owls home.'

'No - Professor McGonagall -' both Mary and Lily started to argue and plead … but the Professor stayed them with an icy glance.

'I think you are all getting off very lightly. If I ever catch any of you smoking again - over the rest of your time at Hogwarts - you will see what I mean. I trust that none of you have anything else to say about the matter?'

She glared at them, daring them to reply - and then Petra doubled over, wretched - and was sick all over McGonagall's boots.

…

'So the girls all ended up in detention,' Remus finished up telling the boys that night in their dormitory. 'Big Macca was furious with them.' He had his mum's camera back from Sirius and was turning it over in his hands as he regaled his friends with the tale of Lily and her cigarette. 'I heard Bettina Bagshot telling Sandy Lewis all about it. Everyone now thinks the girls are the height of cool.'

He lifted the camera up to his eye, pointed it at Sirius and clicked the button. The flash went off.

'Oi! That nearly blinded me!'

'But you looked gorgeous - it'll be a picture for the ages.' He got hit in the face with a pillow. 'Mmmpff!'

James snorted in disgust. 'FlatuLily Evans, the height of cool? In what insane universe could that goody two shoes pipsqueak ever be cool?'

'She's a goody two shoes that just got caught smoking - after stealing muggle money to do it,' Peter pointed out.

'Face it mate,' Sirius grinned. 'Lily's cooler than you.'

'She's bad to the bone,' Remus laughed.

'She is not cooler than me. I am so much badder than her.'

'That's not what the rest of the school thinks.'

But he snorted in disgust. 'This place - the people here'll believe anything.'

'And is it true that Petra really puked all over Big Macca's shoes?' Peter asked.

'Well - that's what Bettina said.'

'Is that better or worse than the time you weed on her shoes, Remus?' Sirius asked with a grin.

'I did not wee on Big Macca's shoes! - It was … shoe adjacent. Totally different.'

Sirius laughed, 'yeah, you keep telling yourself that.' He got hit in the face with his own pillow. 'Mmpff!'

'Look, men - you're not taking this seriously. This is serious - do people really think FlatuLily is cool? As in - cooler than us? Where does this leave us?'

'No one cares about us,' Remus shrugged.

'That's not alright - we need to do something, get ourselves back on the map. We all need detentions by this time tomorrow. And we need to think of something that can out-bad FlatuLily.' James scowled darkly. 'You know what the worst of all this is?' he asked them. 'It means we can't ever try smoking now - or else people will just think we're copying her … This is awful - we need to do something catastrophic; prove to the world that we're the real troublemakers. The rebels. The cool ones.'

'Well… I spat at the Minister for Magic over the hols,' Sirius said slowly. 'But Reg was the only Hogwarts student who saw - and he probably won't tell.' He just hoped Reg would keep quiet about what else had gone on at home these past couple of weeks.

'What?' all the boys chorused together and gathered around him. 'What did you do that for?'

'I was in a bad mood, she was there - she wants to keep accusing Remus of killing people - so I spat at her; filthy hag.'

'You shouldn't have done that!' Though Remus was having to hide how pleased he was. The thought of Sirius standing up for him made him feel all warm inside.

'What happened to you after that?' James asked.

Sirius shrugged like it was no big deal. 'Oh - they locked me in my room for the rest of the holiday - thanks for the food by the way. I would have starved.'

'How did you go to the toilet?' Peter frowned.

Sirius's lips went thin - for a moment he looked like McGonagall. 'Well of course they let me out to the toilet,' he lied.

'You shouldn't have got yourself into that much trouble - not for me.'

'It's alright,' he shoulder barged him, 'I was already in trouble - that was just the icing on the cake. Oh - yeah - I forgot to tell you all, all the right foul gits from Slytherin were there. Not the kids - thank God - but their mums and dads. Something dodgy is going on. They kept talking about this "Dark Lord" - but they'd trail off whenever they saw me listening.'

'Because you're a filthy blood traitor,' James said.

'Because I'm a filthy blood traitor,' Sirius agreed, a bit too cheerfully. 'But I heard enough. He's got everyone's tail twitching. Everyone's getting all pissy in their knickers at the thought of him. He's the one that's behind the sudden rise in pureblood mania.'

'But - who is he?' Peter said.

'I dunno. I looked him up in Ponce's peerage. There were no Lords there.'

'Well who needs a Lord in Pense's Peerage, when King Sirius Black the third is on page 394?'... Remus received another pillow to the face.

'It's… interesting though,' James said - though he looked more troubled than intrigued. 'I wonder where he's come from - what his endgame is?'

'Hopefully he'll turn out to be a bit of a damp squib,' Sirius said. 'Not much will happen. He'll make a big noise around the people who like what he has to say and then … it'll just fizzle out. I mean, he's got to be a bit of a tosser, going round calling himself the "Dark Lord" when he's no such thing. People are going to see that eventually. No one can take someone giving themselves a silly name seriously. I was worried about all those people disappearing but … if the person behind them is a tosser - how scary can it be? And the werewolf attacks have already stopped, haven't they?' He glanced at Remus - who nodded.

'Yes - it looks like I'm off the hook.'

'See - it's already coming to an end. It'll be over before it's begun.'

They all nodded - going quiet for a moment

'Right, let's try something - everyone squish in,' Remus said, breaking the silence. They crowded together on the bed and Remus held the camera up - his arm stretched out - so the lens was facing them. He clicked the button, the flash went off - and all four of them were captured, frozen in time, together.

…

Remus was just drifting off to sleep when he caught the sounds of pitter pattering feet crossing the floor. He smiled sleepily to himself, and shifted over in the bed - making room for the imminent invasion from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

'Hi,' he murmured, as the curtains parted and Sirius's handsome head poked in.

'Can I come in?'

''Course.'

He felt the mattress sink beneath him, as the extra weight was added, and heard the springs groan and creak - and then Sirius was snuggled next to him under the covers. 'Keep your feet to yourself, Remus, they're like blocks of ice.'

Smiling to himself, Remus pressed his foot against Sirius's bare ankle - and laughed when he heard him squeal. 'Well - that's what happens when you squish two people into a bed made for one.'

'You should sleep with socks on.'

'Oh that's a good look! …So, what was the holiday really like? I assume that's why you're here?'

He felt Sirius shrug. 'Fine. How was yours?'

He thought of the cage. '... Fine. Though it was a year - since my mum…'

'I'm sorry. I didn't realise.'

'It sort of crept up on us. Things have been mental this year. We went for a picnic - you know, where we scattered her ashes. It's weird. It hurts more now than it has for a long time.'

'Why is that?'

'I think … I think it's because it's been a year . I haven't hugged my mum for a year. I haven't seen her face or heard her voice for a year … and I never will again. She's getting further and further away - the world is moving on without her … I'm moving on without her. And then it got to her anniversary and I actually looked back and …'

He felt Sirius's arm snake around him in the darkness and squeeze.

'It's like all that old grief just opened up again. I'll be fine. It'll fade. It'll probably fade quicker this time than it did last time … I can talk about her without crying now, so even though it feels bad - it can't really be as bad as it was.' He sniffed. 'Anyway - you didn't really crawl into my bed in the middle of the night to ask about my holiday. What's bothering you? What's going on?'

Sirius went very still beside him. 'It's nothing,' he said after a moment. Though his voice sounded very careful - like he was trying very hard not to betray any feeling. 'It's just - being locked up like that. For a whole week … it was hard. I think I would have preferred if she'd just hit me. A bruise would fade. But what happened…'

'What did happen? You usually spend the whole break hiding in there, anyway - what was so different about this time?'

'Nothing.' He went very still and very quiet for a moment and then: 'Remus - can I stay here tonight?'

Remus squinted at him in the dark. This would not be the first time Sirius had slept through the night in his bed and stayed until morning. He had stayed all night the night Remus had returned home after his mother had died, and he had stayed all night when Remus had been exposed as a werewolf … but this was the first time he had ever asked to stay on his own account.

Remus wrapped his arm around him, the way Sirius had done for him earlier. 'Of course … Sirius? Whatever it is you're not telling me - you don't have to tell me, but you know you can, right?'

'I know. It's nothing. I'm fine.'

…

But for all he said he was fine, Remus could not help but notice that there definitely seemed to be something off about Sirius over the next couple of days. He seemed to be fizzing over with nervous energy, unable to sit still for a minute - his behaviour was brittle and jittery and like he was struggling to keep everything contained. His fingers would tap, his leg would jig up and down whenever he sat still, his eyes would flash - it was like a vein of pure magic was just crackling away beneath the surface, riling him up.

And - though he always was quick to anger - he seemed especially angry now. Every little thing seemed to irritate him. He yelled at Pete to the point that the other boy just started avoiding him; he answered back in class and then slammed his books around when he was given an inevitable detention for rudeness. And when he passed Regulus in the corridor, he would pale - as if afraid of something - there would be a look of pure malice and gloating on his brother's face and then afterwards Sirius would flush a dark red and start kicking things.

Perhaps even worse than the anger, though, was the recklessness. If it was stupid or dangerous, or bound to cause trouble, then Sirius was now plunging headlong into it. He cast stinging jinxes at Slytherin first years in the corridors - and transfigured Filch's feet into leeks when he tried to put him in detention. He set the end of Snivellus's broom on fire during Flying, and in Charms class he turned the feather he was supposed to be floating into a flock of flamingos and sent them flying off over the Black Lake (and Remus privately thought that it was only how impressive the magic was that stopped Sirius getting chucked out of school right there and then).

It seemed - very much - like he just didn't care any more: how much trouble he got into, what the consequences were, how angry he made the teachers, whether they told his parents - even if people liked him anymore. It seemed like nothing mattered to him.

But it did matter. Because he was still getting into Remus's bed every night - whatever was bothering him, it was bad enough that he didn't want to sleep alone. He didn't say much, but he was always there - and Remus could feel how tense he was, like a coiled spring ready to burst free. He could feel how close he was to exploding.

'What's going on?' James asked Remus one break-time. 'He's acting like a nutter.'

'It's something that happened during the holiday.'

'What?'

'He hasn't told me.'

'Well - why doesn't he tell me? He's supposed to be my best mate.'

'He doesn't feel like he can tell anyone.' Though he hoped, for Sirius's sake, that he would find a way to unburden himself of whatever it was he was hiding soon. And he hoped that, once he told, he would feel better - calm down. Because - for now - Sirius was acting so recklessly and so angrily that Remus was starting to worry what he might do … and what might happen to him because of it.

…

Lily was sent to scour cauldrons in the dungeons for her detention. She had got off rather lightly - all things considered. Especially as she was the main instigator of the whole fiasco. Sure enough, she had received a very angry letter from home - telling her how ashamed they were of her for wasting money, and to just wait until they got her home, they'd make her wish she'd never been born. But Petra and Mandy had both got howlers - and those same sentiments had been screamed at them across the Great Hall for the whole school to hear.

There were some major advantages to having muggle parents. Private correspondence being one of them.

And it had been embarrassing when the whole story (including Petra's puking) had been included in the first of Rita Skeeter's newsletters for the term (it must have been a slow news week). But in the end it had only worked to increase her fame - and now more people than just that dreamy muggle boy were calling her "Hellraiser Evans" (which was a considerably better nickname than "FlatuLily").

And the boys - being the total arses that they always were - had managed to lose more points in their first lesson back than all four of the girls had for smoking combined, so her own ten lost points were long forgotten under the landslide of Potter's lost points (not to mention the avalanche lost by Black - it was a miracle Gryffindor had any points left at all, he was being so insufferable).

Plus she could never smoke again inside the grounds of Hogwarts on pain of … something terrible. Maybe death. Maybe expulsion. And though she grumbled about it out loud to the girls - she was secretly very relieved to have an excuse not to keep up the habit. It was horrible. It stunk and it tasted bad and it made her chest hurt. She would die before she would ever tell anyone - but she was extremely grateful to McGonagall for cutting her career as a smoker so short.

And now she had her detention - but it was only with Slughorn, and he wouldn't give her a hard time.

In fact - as it turned out - he was inclined to chuckle about the whole thing. ''Pon my word, I knew you had a spirited side to you, young Lily, but this really takes the crumpled cream horn snorsnack! Muggle cigarettes!' he chortled heartily. 'Where did you buy them?'

'I got them from Mr. Green's shop.'

'Who is Mr. Green? Is he one of the Gainsborough Greens - of Green, Green and Gambton; fine importers of magical powders and essences?'

'Er - no - he runs the corner shop.'

'What's a "corner shop"?'

'A shop on the corner … of the street. It sells sweets and newspapers and cigarettes and pints of milk.'

'I don't understand.'

'Well - if a muggle runs out of milk, and the milkman isn't due until the next morning - they nip to the shop on the end of their road. Ours is run by Mr. Green.'

'No - what I mean is, I don't understand why you were near one of these shops.'

'Well - it's just by my house. It's where I've always gone for stuff.'

'Does your family live in a muggle neighbourhood, Miss Evans?'

'My family are muggles. I'm muggleborn.'

He stared at her, his eyes popping in surprise; he looked like he was about to topple off his chair. 'You're … you're muggle born?'

She didn't know why - and she hated herself for doing it - but she blushed. 'Yes.'

'But … you're one of the best witches of your age I've ever seen. Never seen talent like it.'

'Er …' she didn't know what to say to that, so she just scoured the cauldron all the harder.

'I thought you must be pureblood - you've got so much talent. Like Black or Potter.'

'Do you really think it makes a difference?' she asked. 'Someone's blood status?'

'I - well I…' It was his turn to blush. 'No of course not. You quite prove anyone wrong who says otherwise, young lady.' He was trying to sound jovial - but he still looked surprised. 'Well, 'pon my word, most irregular. Most irregular indeed …'

He huffed and puffed to himself for the rest of her detention, and Lily got on with quietly scouring the cauldrons - thinking very carefully to herself indeed.

Slughorn had been impressed with her work since her very first Potions lesson back in first year - she remembered him asking her if she came from the Pembrokeshire Evanses. And it was Sev who had told her to keep quiet about being muggleborn. In fact - he kept on telling her to keep quiet about being muggleborn. He always insisted that she not mention her family or blood status.

But Slughorn seemed to think that being a good witch must mean coming from good magical stock - he was surprised to find out she was the very first in her family to have magic. Perhaps the problem was that muggleborns were encouraged to hide their blood status - and everyone assumed powerful witches and wizards were from pureblooded families - so no one realised that muggleborns really were every bit as good as all the rest of them. All powerful muggleborns were just assumed to not be what they were.

And perhaps that was why people like Abraxas Malfoy wrote such hateful things about people like her. He just didn't know people like her could be powerful too.

Maybe this was why The Kneazles were so vocal about their own blood status. Perhaps they had got tired of people assuming they were something they were not, or telling them they weren't good wizards because of what they were. Maybe they were fighting for a bit more than bringing Rock and Roll to the wizarding world - maybe they were fighting for recognition. For them and people like them. People like Lily.

And maybe it was time she started fighting too.

Sev told her to keep quiet - but he also said that no one who saw what she could do could doubt she belonged at Hogwarts. And Slughorn had just said he had never seen a talent like hers. She was a good witch - a powerful one. Muggleborns could be powerful - and it just seemed like they had kept quiet for so long that purebloods didn't realise it.

Well - no more. (She began to scour extra hard as her thoughts came faster and more determined.) She wouldn't be quiet about being muggleborn, like Sev kept telling her to be, and she would study really hard and come out top in all their exams this year. And if she did that maybe - maybe - the likes of Mulciber and Avery would realise she was just as magical as they were, Natasha Perell would see Lily was every bit as much of a witch as she was. And they would stop saying she didn't belong at Hogwarts.

Maybe - if a muggleborn could just beat all the purebloods in the exams, pureblood mania would die down and things could go back to the way they had been. Maybe …

By the time she had finished her detention, her hands were raw and her nails were ruined. But she barely noticed. She went back up to her dorm, picked up her Transfiguration textbook and started to read.

…

Summer term meant the final two Quidditch matches of the year: Ravenclaw vs Hufflepuff and Gryffindor vs Slytherin. Things were looking pretty tight. If Hufflepuff could just beat Ravenclaw then that would knock them out of the running. Hufflepuff were too far behind to challenge for the title themselves- so that would leave it between Gryffindor and Slytherin .. and Gryffindor would have to win by a margin of 160 points to get the cup.

The matches were going to be played either side of the full moon - and Remus was feeling rather achy and weary when the time came to go out to the stadium and watch Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw play. But he tried to fight down the worst of it, wrapped his Harpies scarf around his neck and went with his friends.

It was very tense to watch - the whole of Gryffindor groaned and cheered with the fortunes of the Hufflepuff team. Sirius was practically vibrating, as he stared skywards, seeming unable to stand still.

James was watching through the omnioculars. 'I think they can make it,' he said. 'I think they can steal a win…'

'But then we have to beat Slytherin - I mean - we have to beat Slytherin,' Sirius said moodily.

'I wish I was playing. I wish something could happen so that I could play. I know we'd win if I was chasing. With Morgana on the team it's 50/50 - at best.' He lowered the omnioculars - and his expression was almost hungry as he watched the players fly around the field.

Sirius glanced at him. 'You'll get your turn. Henry and Morgana are both leaving.'

'Yeah - but I want my turn now .'

…

Hufflepuff won - Ravenclaw were out of the running and Gryffindor celebrated in their common room (until Sirius threw too many firecrackers into the fire - there was an explosion and McGonagall turned up, balled them all out, gave him a detention and sent them to bed).

The night of the full moon, Sirius and Remus left the common room, leaving Peter and James playing chess, and headed for the Hospital Wing together; Remus so he could transform, Sirius because he was sentenced to scour the bedpans without magic. 'Wanna swap places?' he asked rather glumly.

Remus laughed. 'No - you're on your own with that.'

'Come on - I'll go through a horrendously painful transformation - you scrub the traces of human excrement from the porcelain.'

'Tempting but … hell no.'

'Spoilsport.'

Madam Pomfrey tutted when she saw Sirius - and set him to scrubbing straight away. Then, with a much kinder expression, she ushered Remus out of the Infirmary. 'Night Sirius - don't scrub too hard,' he called as he left. 'And don't do anything stupid.'

'Yeah - you neither.'

Madam Pomfrey returned alone after about twenty minutes and - remarkably - Sirius had not done anything to lose himself points, gain another detention or get himself expelled in that time. 'Did Remus get to the tree alright?' he asked, when he saw her. 'Is he OK?'

'He's as OK as he ever is this time of the month, Mr. Black. Now get on - I want to be able to see my face in those things.'

'That's a weird thing to want - but alright,' he muttered under his breath.

She kept him there for hours, he must have scrubbed clean every bedpan in the Hospital Wing, he was elbow deep in soap bubbles, his hands were raw and the front of his robes were soaking wet from where he kept slopping the foamy water down his front. He had to keep carrying the pans to the window and throwing the water outside - as Madam Pomfrey was not vanishing the suds once he was done.

He had been gloomy enough when he had been with Remus, but every passing bedpan only worsened his mood - and, as he watched the contents fly out of the window and fall to the ground beneath, he actually started to shake with suppressed rage. It reminded him too much of … something he wasn't thinking about.

By the time Madam Pomfrey finally let him go, the anger was coursing through him and he was having to fight the urge to smash the windows or knock over the suits of armour …And if that mental painting of a knight gave him any grief, he was ready to swing a punch at it.

The full moon was high in the sky - but right now he thought he probably felt even worse than Remus did, and had barely any more control. And Remus wouldn't even be there waiting for him when he got back - there would just be James.

And James didn't understand … He didn't want James to understand. That was what he loved about James, that he was so uncomplicated and had no idea of what went on in the world or that it was possible to feel like … this .

When he was with James, he could pretend to be like him. He even felt like him. He felt carefree and like the pair of them ruled the world together and nothing could ever stop them, or get in their way. Like they were the cleverest, funniest, brightest boys who had ever lived - and everything was theirs for the taking. And James, who had grown up believing all those things about himself anyway, would never really know - could never really understand - what it meant to Sirius, the unloved heir to the House of Black, that he got to sometimes feel that way too.

But when he felt like this - he needed Remus. Because Remus did understand. And that was what he loved about Remus. But Remus wasn't going to be there tonight. And the thought of having to feel this way alone - all night - was making him tremble almost as badly as the rage was.

He kicked at the wall - and only succeeded in hurting his toes. He hopped away, swearing copiously. His foot was still killing him when he made it to the Transfiguration corridor, and he glowered darkly at all the suits of armour as he walked past them. Part of him wanted to kick those as well - really do his foot in - he was just in a burn the whole world down sort of mood. But he didn't.

When he got back to the common room, he would have to pretend to be normal for James and Peter, so he might as well try and act normal now - and not pick a fight with a suit of armour.

He heard a door open behind him - and a moment later it closed again. He turned to look; it was late and the corridors were entirely deserted apart from himself. And now Gryffindor chaser, Morgana Murrows, was there as well. She had just left Big Macca's office.

Sirius glowered at her, watching her walk closer. She was a useless chaser. James was a thousand times better and she was taking his spot. And with her on the team, Slytherin were bound to win the cup .. and Sirius honestly didn't think he could bear it if Slytherin won. If Regulus had something else to gloat about.

He felt another rush of anger flood through him - and wished there was an easy way he could just make everything troubling him disappear.

…

Professor McGonagall dipped her quill in the ink and held it poised over the parchment, thinking what particularly cutting remark she could write onto this woeful excuse for an OWL essay on Switching Spells. She wanted something really biting.

'This would have been a fine attempt for a first year,' she murmured to herself, 'No - not quite harsh enough - a fine attempt for a five year old … yes, that's it.' She began to write, the nib scratching away - when suddenly she was interrupted by an enormous crashing, clattering and clanging sound from just outside her door.

'Peeves,' she sighed in exasperation - and went to investigate.

She found a suit of armour had been shoved over and, whether by accident or design, it had landed on poor Morgana Murrows - who had been knocked unconscious by the tumbling helmet and breastplate (and the falling mace had done some nasty damage too).

'Not again, Peeves,' the Professor tutted. 'Peeves?' She raised her voice to call out sharply - but there was no sign of the poltergeist anywhere. The hallway was completely empty.

'Oh dear,' she sighed, looking down at her chaser. 'Well - we'd better get you to the Hospital Wing.'