Chapter Thirteen: True Fame

The boys were once more hiding up in their dorm, feeling gloomy. 'It's bound to be blamed on me,' Sirius said, (his pillow over his face so it came out rather muffled). 'Who else could it have possibly been?'

'Peeves?' Peter suggested, but that was only met with a derisive snort.

'No one wants to blame Peeves. They want to blame "Barking Mad Black".'

'But you have an alibi!' James said.

'What? Pinchy?'

'Not Pinchy, you idiot - us. We can swear you were with us and that you didn't do it.'

'They'll ask where we were.'

'So - we'll tell them.'

Sirius sat up and flung his pillow at James' face ('Mmmph!') 'No chance! If we tell them what we were up to then they'll stop us.' He picked up John, his pet puffskein, and began to stroke him - his face still dark and brooding. 'We won't become animagi, and we won't be able to help Moony - I'd rather be expelled.'

'Well, I'd rather you stayed here, Sirius - animagus or not.'

'Don't be soft, Remus - I'm no good to you if I'm not an animagus.'

'That's not true!'

'When you two have finished declaring your love for each other…' James interrupted loudly (both boys fell quiet, and went more than a little red) 'we can get on with finding the glaringly obvious solution to all our problems.' All three of them stared at him. He shrugged. 'We tell them we were in the forest - but we don't tell them what we were doing! '

'Well, what will they think we were doing?' Peter asked.

'Breaking the rules - like we do every day. We'll say we went out for a monster-hunting stroll, no one will question it, we get a detention, Sirius is in the clear. Simple.'

There was a knock on the door. 'And this is probably Sirius's summons - come on, we'll all go.'

Sure enough, there was a prefect at the door, bearing a note for Sirius from Professor McGonagall, requesting his presence in her office. With a deep sigh (and a snarled 'why don't you take a photo, it'll last longer,' at the curious prefect) he led the way down the stairs and out of the common room.

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow but did not say anything, when all four of them bundled into her office. Her lips were thin, but her eyes were worried. 'Mr. Black,' she said, after a lengthy silence in which the four boys all shuffled awkwardly and looked at their shoes, 'what exactly is going on?'

'Well, I don't know any more than you do, Professor! Bad things just keep happening.'

'Around you.'

'I wasn't anywhere near Stebbins when he got that suit of armour pushed on him.'

'So where were you?'

'I - er-'

'We were in the forest, Professor McGonagall,' James said, attempting a look of contrition. 'We are very sorry and accept, whole heartedly, the detentions we are about to receive.'

Remus was not sure, but he thought he saw Big Macca's lips twitch, as if she was fighting back a smile.

'Is this true, Mr. Black - were you in the forest?'

'Yes.'

'And you two - ' she turned her keen eyes on Remus and Peter, 'You can verify this?'

'Yes.'

'Hagrid too - he saw…Ow,' Peter rubbed his arm where James had just nudged him into being quiet.

'I see … Black, you must see this looks bad? You publicly had an altercation with Stebbins and then a few hours later he gets a suit of armour shoved on top of him … a move which is uniquely your own.'

'Peeves did it too.'

'So you are accusing Peeves?'

'No - I - I'm just saying, I got the idea from him … maybe someone else got the idea from me… Anyone could have done it.'

'My worry is they tried to make it look like you did it.'

'Well I didn't.'

Her nostrils flared, 'Be that as it may, you are all in detention for going in the forest - the details will be in the post. Dismissed.'

They turned and shuffled back out, grumbling a little about the detentions but glad that this was the sum of their punishment… Big Macca, at least, did not seem to be inclined to pursue a line of inquiry into Sirius's guilt over the Stebbins affair.

The student body was a different matter however. Many of them chose to take Sirius's latest detention as proof of his guilt, and few people bothered to keep their voices down when they gossiped about just how exactly he had avoided expulsion yet again, and discussed what a dangerous nutter he truly was.

…

The turning of spring meant more Quidditch - and no one, perhaps, was more surprised than Regulus, himself, when he snatched the snitch mid air, while Bao Chang of Ravenclaw was looking the other way, squeaking Slytherin a win.

The next week it was Gryffindor's turn to play, and in the run up to it, captain Bethany Ellshaw became more and more grim faced. 'This is the thing, girls,' she said to the team before practice, one evening.

('And boys,' James piped up - but she ignored him.)

'It was a bit of bad luck that useless cretin, Black, getting the snitch like that. No one could have seen it coming - least of all him. But what it means is that every team but us has had a win this season. And that means we need to win this next match to stay in the running! I'm not captaining us to a bottom of the table defeat. You hear? So on Saturday, go out there and fly like you've never flown before!'

So, when the match day dawned, James got up early, had himself a hearty breakfast and went down to the Quidditch pitch to get in one last flight before the big moment.

When the first of the crowd started to arrive, wrapped up in their red or yellow scarves, he brought his broom down in a controlled dive and headed for the changing rooms. By the time he emerged again, with the rest of his team, and now wearing his bright scarlet chaser's robes, the stands had all filled up - with a wall of cheering crimson on one side, and a cascade of jeering saffron on the other.

He found Sirius, Remus and Peter high up in the crowd and gave them a wave. They waved back and wolf whistled and then, with a blast of Madam Hooch's own whistle, it was time for broom up - and the teams were off.

James snatched the quaffle out of the air and zoomed to the other end of the pitch, dodging both bludgers and a Hufflepuff chaser. He passed to Bethany, who passed to Petra, who passed back to James and - a moment later - the crowd was roaring, Madam Hooch was blowing her whistle and James was celebrating his first goal of the match.

And it proved to be the first of many. Barely had play started up again, before he had intercepted the quaffle once again and was off - the Hufflepuff goal growing larger by the second and the Hufflepuff keeper looking more and more anxious.

He feinted, pretending to throw left and - once the keeper had flown that way - hurled the quaffle through the right hoop, and punched the air as the second goal flew in as effortlessly as the first.

Up in the stands, the boys clutched each other and screamed themselves hoarse - and over the megaphone the commentator boomed the new score. 'Twenty - zero to Gryffindor, all thanks to golden boy, Potter. Can Hufflepuff hope to catch up?'

And it seemed like the answer was "no". Petra scored (assisted by James) and then Bethany, and then James scored twice more.

'I think we're going to do it!' Sirius yelled over the noise of the crowd. 'I think we might actually be going to win!'

Out on the pitch, Laila Flume - Hufflepuff seeker - was growing increasingly irritated. James scored again - followed by Bethany - and the lead was now eighty - zero, and her own chasers were showing no signs of redressing the balance. It was starting to look like it was all going to come down to her - and she marked Jenny Price, doggedly, absolutely determined to keep her away from the snitch.

Meanwhile, the Gryffindor chasers were keeping in tight formation - locking their Hufflepuff counterparts out of the game, and all the well placed bludgers in the world were not getting through their ranks. Belvedere Johnson - Gryffindor keeper - had been so out of the loop for the whole match that he was now doing stunts and tricks on his broom for the amusement of the crowd. There was a roar of approval as, slowly and with much theatre, he pulled himself up so he was standing on his broomstick, arms spread wide for balance … and then the roars became cheers of glee and groans of frustration as, at the other end of the pitch, James put away another goal.

'And the score is now 140-0,' the commentator told the crowd, half an hour later, '...scratch that 150-0,' (James had scored once again) 'and unless Flume can snatch the snitch and force a draw in the next minute or so - it looks like defeat is inevitable for the Hufflepuffs. It's all on her now - but will it be enough … No, I don't believe it, Potter has scored again!'

The Gryffindor crowd went wild; up in their seats, Remus, Sirius and Peter jumped up and down and screamed their heads off and then '...Is that the snitch?' the commentator asked.

Far below, fluttering only a foot above the grass, the golden snitch finally put in an appearance. Both seekers plummeted to the ground in a steep dive … but the Gryffindor chasers had already done all the work and so, although Laila got there just a fraction of a second before Jenny, and managed to claw back a few points for her house, the lions were still very firmly in the lead, when Madam Hooch's whistle blew.

…

They had a party in the common room that evening, to celebrate the fact they were still in with a chance to win the cup. The Kneazles blared on the wireless, the seventh years passed around a bottle of firewhisky, while everyone else made do with pumpkin juice and crisps, and James held court, draped in a Gryffindor flag and reenacting his greatest goals for his many admirers.

Over in the corner Bethany Ellshaw and Belvedere Johnson were snogging furiously, ignoring the wolf whistles and the handfuls of popcorn they were being pelted with. Even Sirius wasn't hiding away in the dorm tonight, and was instead in the centre of the action, arm draped proudly around James and basking in his reflected glory. Over by the fire, Remus watched the two of them laughing, and Peter trying to dance to "The Giant Squid" with the girls, and felt very content indeed. If it wasn't for the fact that the full moon was the very next weekend, and he was already feeling the first twinges of pain, life would have seemed as close to perfect as possible.

…

The following Saturday, the school broke up for Easter and most of the students vanished from the common rooms and caught the Hogwarts Express home. All four boys, however, had elected to stay in school for the hols: Sirius, so he did not have to return to his horrible family for two weeks - and the other three so they could keep Sirius company.

'You can't hide from home forever, though, Sirius,' James told him, 'we need that silver teaspoon!'

Remus smiled weakly and then made his excuses and left for the Hospital Wing. Sirius watched him go, his eyes were clouded. 'I know - I'll go back and get it in the summer. It's worth getting locked in my room for weeks on end, if it'll help Moony.'

It was a shame that the very beginning of their break was marred by Remus being under the weather, followed by a painful transformation and then a day spent languishing in the Infirmary… but, by Monday, he was feeling better and they were all up for a spot of mischief.

They crept out of the portrait hole at night time (Peter staying in the common room to hold it open) and painted a moustache on the Fat Lady, as she slept. They sneaked into Professor Slughorn's office and left a loaded mouse trap hidden in his underwear drawer. They broke into the greenhouses and stole some puffapod seeds, which they scattered down the Charms corridor, causing the whole hallway to burst into bloom (Sirius had wanted to do the Quidditch pitch, but James would not let him so they had settled for outside Charms). They went pond skimming for Grindylows in the black lake and then stashed one in Filch's broom cupboard, ready to pop out at him. They even pinched some of Hagrid's extra strength magical weed killer, and Sirius used it to burn a very large, very crude drawing into the school lawn (which made Peter tut and shake his head, 'See, I told you,' he murmured to James, 'totally obsessed with them…')

One evening, Sirius announced, with great pride, that he thought he had done it - he had taken apart his toaster, reassembled it and successfully enchanted it so it could work at Hogwarts without the benefit of "electric". They pilfered some bread from the kitchens and - with bated breath, popped it in the toaster and pushed the button down. All seemed to go well at first, the inside of the toaster glowed a bright orange and they peered in to see, and warmed their hands over it.

After about ten minutes, Remus asked if Sirius was sure it was supposed to take this long. Sirius assured him it was.

'It's just - it would be quicker to do it with a fork over a fire … I don't see why a muggle would invent this if it takes this long,' Remus said.

'That's because you're not thinking like a muggle,' Sirius told him, sagely. 'It isn't about how long it takes, it's about the invention - the discovery, the new way of doing old things - that's what being a muggle is all about.'

'My mum always liked things being done quickly.'

'No, no … she liked innovation.'

'You never met her.'

'I didn't need to. I can think like a muggle - and I'm an expert on toasters.'

But ten minutes later still and thick black smoke was now pouring out of the top of the toaster.

'Maybe Remus is right,' Peter said, peering in to get a better look. Just then the toaster exploded with a loud bang, right in Peter's face and two flaming slices of toast were expelled upwards with great force. They hit the ceiling and crashed back down to the floor, where they burned away merrily. The boys jumped off the bed and tried to extinguish the flames (apart from Peter, who was too busy patting his face to check his eyebrows were still on) but before they could stamp out the fire, a great shrieking sound rent the air and water began to pour from the dormitory ceilings - leaving their blankets, curtains and clothes a sodden mess. Down on the floor, the flames went out, leaving two slices of toast smoking and smouldering in the downpour.

By this time they were five detentions deep, and Big Macca was ready to breathe fire and confine them to their dormitory for the rest of the holiday. So James announced it was time to take a rest from fun and to do some work instead. 'The fact is, men,' he said to them, 'we still need that dew. And if we want to get it, we need to get past Pinchy. And in order to get past Pinchy, we need to learn how to fight a manticore…'

And he would not listen to their protests, or their insistence that he was being ridiculous, and he hustled them all off to the library to peruse the "Dangerous Beasts" section.

Much to their dismay, they discovered that Snivellus was also in the library, that he too had opted to stay at school over the holidays and now they had run into him. 'What's he up to, in here, anyway?' James asked, craning his neck to see (they had sat as far away as possible - but out of sight was never out of mind when it came to Snivelly).

Peter - as the best at lurking - scuttled his way through the stacks and got a good peer over Snape's shoulder at what he was reading, before the other boy spotted him and sent a hex his way. He yelped, and dodged. The curse hit a bookshelf instead, and a whole row of books exploded in flames. Madam Pince went mad and beat Snape around the head with Spellman's Syllabary before kicking him out of the library altogether.

By this time, Peter had returned to his friends. 'Spell craft,' he informed them.

'What's that then?'

'The creation of new spells - I think old Snivelly fancies himself a bit of an inventor.'

'Git,' Sirius muttered.

They spread their own books across the table and began to pore over them. 'Oh - here's something,' James said after a while. 'In 1957 a wizard called Norvel Twonk saved a muggle child from a runaway manticore,' He traced his finger down the page, scanning the words to find out how Twonk had met with success. His face fell. 'Oh - he died.'

'So maybe we don't try what he did,' Sirius said. James kicked him under the table. 'Ow.'

'Maybe we don't try it at all,' Remus said. 'I was worried about Pinchy's pincers - and teeth - but look, the sting of the manticore results in instant death. They're just killing machines from tail to teeth and all the bits in between. And apparently their skin is resistant to most spells. I think we just give up. '

'But we're doing this for you!' James said indignantly

'And I've already told you, you don't have to! I don't want Sirius getting stuck with the head of a naked mole rat…'

'Oi!'

'And I don't want you getting eaten by Pinchy. Resistant to most spells! Almost impossible to kill! Give it up!'

'Excuse me, but "resistant to most spells" is not "resistant to all spells" and "almost impossible" is not the same as actually impossible. So I'll have no more of your defeatist attitude, Moony. So we know we can't stun or freeze Pinchy - that's good, saves us wasting our time. We're here to find out which spells actually do work. Now hop to it.'

So, grumbling, they all settled down and - for a while - quiet reigned across the library, interrupted only by the rustle of turning pages.

'Here we go,' Sirius said, after a long time. 'A manticore's weakness is in its paws - a literal Achilles heel. Sever that and it's a sitting crup.'

'Just one problem,' Peter said gloomily. Everyone looked at him. 'Pinchy doesn't have paws - he's a special breed of manticore.'

'Oh,' Sirius's face fell. 'Well - maybe it will still work the same, anyway.'

'Not likely.' Remus spun his book around so the others could read it:

In the late 18th century, Magizoologist Samael Scamander embarked upon an intensive manticore breeding programme with the aim of reducing the lion-like qualities and increasing the scorpion traits. The results of this frankly foolhardy experiment was the creation of the "Scorticore" - an even more deadly variant of the beast which bristled with poisonous quills and could shoot fire from a stinger (something the unfortunate Samael discovered the hard way).

Worse still than the extra weapons though, was the added invulnerability which blessed the scorticore. Although manticore hide is impervious to most spells, the hard exoskeleton of the scorticore meant that even the weakest spots were impossible for magic to penetrate.

Samael Scamander claimed to his naysayers he would not live to regret his experimentation with the manticore, and he was quite correct - but that is purely because he did not survive the experience.

'Hard exoskeleton,' Peter said. He looked nervously at Sirius and James. 'I really think it might be time to give up on this idea.'

'Peter's right - the odds are against you, and that's before you even start trying to transform. I don't want anyone dying on my account.'

'We're not giving up, Moony - we will find a way … we just might need to find a way that doesn't involve Pinchy.'

'Oh ye of little faith,' James snorted - and tapped the book excitedly. 'Do you always give up this easily? Look here!'

The boys bent over the book once more and read the passage James was pointing to.

After many years (and many more deaths) a way to subdue this new breed of manticore was discovered. If enough wizards of sufficient power can get beneath the scorticore and aim their wands at its soft underbelly, then - provided they act in perfect unison - a freezing charm can work just long enough for them to make their escape.

'Are we "enough wizards of sufficient power" though?' Remus asked, rather doubtfully.

But James was grinning, 'we'll just have to train up - won't we?'

… And so began the next phase of their holiday: chasing Snivellus around the castle and practising freezing charms in perfect unison on him. They caught him just coming out of the Great Hall, at the top of the marble staircase, near the astronomy tower, behind Hagrid's hut and finally carefully examining a statue of Gregory the Smarmy on the fifth floor.

'One, two, three Immobulus ,' the white sparks came shooting out of their wands and hit Snape squarely in the chest - his look of outrage and loathing was left etched onto his frozen face.

They all laughed. 'We're getting the hang of this,' James said. 'I think we're nearly ready.'

Sirius took a couple of steps forward and looked appraisingly at the frozen boy. Snape glowered back at him - his eyes were burning with hatred but he was totally paralysed. 'You know, I think it's a shame to have Snivelly all cornered like this and just leave him…' He raised his wand.

'What are you going to do?' Remus asked warily.

Sirius just grinned wider. ' Mutatio!' He flicked his wand - there was a moment when nothing happened and then, with a springy sound, Snape's robes were suddenly transformed into a shimmering pink tutu and tights. A glittering tiara twinkled in his greasy hair. Sirius, James and Peter all roared with laughter. Severus's eyes were bulging, his face was bright red - but he was still unable to move.

Remus felt his lips twitch and fought down the smile. 'You shouldn't…'

'Oh give over, Moony - I just wish you had your camera with you. I'd make copies of the photo and post them all over the castle for when everyone got back - Snivellina the ballerina!' And - still howling with laughter - the other three boys ran off towards their common room.

Remus dithered for a moment and then ' Finite ,' he muttered. The freezing charm wore off instantly, and the tutu became billowing, black robes once again.

Snape was choking with rage. 'You think you're any better than them? I'll get you back - all of you. You tell Black to watch his back,' and, still burning with humiliation, he swept away without a backwards look.

Remus watched him go, feeling rather ashamed, and then - with a deep sigh - followed the others back to Gryffindor Tower. 'That wasn't alright, Sirius,' he said once he got there.

'Don't be soft - it's Snivellus. Don't ever forget he'd use far nastier hexes on us. And if he was old enough, he'd be a signed up member of The Knights Of Walpurgis and kissing Mortal Love Rodd's skinny arse, killing muggleborns and squibs for a laugh. Putting him in a tutu is nothing.'

'You don't like it when people accuse you of hexing and cursing other students, Mrs. Norris - those knarls… but then you go and do stuff like this. Honestly - can you be surprised people think it's you?'

Sirius looked just as outraged as Snape had done, for a moment. His mouth fell open and he flushed bright red. 'It's nothing like the same,' he hissed furiously, after a moment's silence.

'Isn't it?'

'No! That stuff hurts people. It's sick. I didn't hurt Snivellus!'

No. Remus thought to himself. You just humiliated him - and you, of all people, should know better. But he didn't dare say it, and so he just settled for making his lips as thin as Big Macca's and maintaining an air of disapproval for the rest of the evening.

After that, Snape seemed to stick close to his own common room, they did not see him again and so they had to find a new way to make their fun.

…

On Easter Sunday they awoke to find that James' and Peter's mums and Remus's dad had sent them all an egg each - massive confectionary concoctions, the size of dragon's eggs and teeming with fudge or fizzing whizzbees.

They lazed about in the common room, eating chocolate by the fire until they felt queasy. In the afternoon, James put the wireless on ready for the Quidditch. The news was on, before the pre-match commentary, and they munched away listening to the salacious news of Celestina Warbeck's latest divorce, outrage over a price hike in floo powder and Ministry proposals to clamp down on illegal toad racing and jarvey fights.

'And now something to cause a stir of excitement for our younger listeners,'

The news reader said.

'It'll be about The Kneazles,' James predicted gloomily - but he turned out to be wrong.

'And maybe something for the bigger kids too! Frequent listeners to the "Quarterpast Two News" will know that the big noise of '73, the man everyone was talking about, was none other than the Dark Lord himself. Following the release of his manifesto, I received at least a hundred owls from witches and wizards around the country telling me they were joining his order - The Knights of Walpurgis. People loved what he had to say and he has only gone from strength to strength in '74.

… And it seems like the world of commerce has listened and wants to get in on that act. "Gudrun Gumdrop inc", the company which manufactures Chocolate Frogs, has announced that they will now be including a Lord Voldemort card in their products which will be available starting today. For all those fledgling Knights out there, now is the time to develop a sweet tooth!'

Sirius stared at the wireless, utterly appalled. 'Un believable!' he said, sounding disgusted. 'Merlin - how thick are these people? What do you think it says on the card? Likes to eat people? Will exterminate all muggleborns for money?'

'It might be interesting to see how they've spun it,' Peter said tentatively, he was eyeing Sirius warily - as if not quite sure how he would react, and was afraid of finding out.

But James' eyes had lit up. 'Let's get hold of one!' he said. 'Let's find one and see what it has to say. You never know - one day Lord Voldemort might be really infamous as the evil git he is, and no one will believe anyone ever liked him. It'll be something to show the grandchildren.'

…

So the next day, they put on their cloaks and sneaked their way to the fourth floor mirror, keeping a watchful eye out for Filch, Mrs. Norris or Peeves, and then made their way down the secret passageway that led to the mountain side.

The weather was far better now than it had been when Sirius had made this journey alone at Christmas, the breeze was stiff and the sun lacked much warmth, but it was light and the air was clear, and the ground underfoot was decidedly less dicey.

They scampered their way down the mountain path to the road and followed it up to the village, passing the Shrieking Shack on the way (Remus suppressed a shudder). Once in Hogsmeade they ignored everything else on offer - The Three Broomsticks, Scrivenshafts, even Zonkos and headed straight to Honeydukes (James was on a mission and would not even let the lure of a butter beer and Madam Rosmerta, or a fresh batch of Dungbombs, distract him from what needed to be done).

They bought as many chocolate frogs as James' gold could buy and then, with frogs stuffed into pockets and their arms heaped up with even more, they staggered their way back down the road and up the mountain pass (which was much more of a challenge when you were holding an armful of frogs - even chocolate ones).

Safely back in Gryffindor common room, they sat in front of the fire and tore the wrappers off the first of the frogs.

'The druidess Cliodna,' Peter said in disappointment.

'Dumbledore.'

'Agrippa.'

'Morgana.'

'Well - that was a total washout,' James said, glumly - and then reached out and ripped the foil off the next frog.

They ate and ate until they felt sick but, although they had three Dumbledores, two Agrippas, and many more famous wizards besides, before they were done, of Lord Voldemort there was no sign.

'I can't eat any more,' Peter said, eventually - looking green about the gills. 'How about we just unwrap them now and save the chocolate for later?' (their easter eggs, 2/3rds of which remained uneaten, were - after all - still waiting patiently for them as well).

But James shook his head indignantly. 'No no no no no, that's cheating! You can only unwrap a frog if you can manage to eat it.'

So from then on the rate of consumption slowed down considerably - and it was with much groaning and sighs that, over the next few days, the boys would force themselves to have a chocolate frog or two.

'Paracelsus,' Sirius snorted in disgust, one afternoon - throwing his latest card down. 'What a waste, I almost upchucked and all… might as well have not bothered.'

'I think I hate chocolate,' Remus said rather sadly.

The days wore on and the pile of chocolate frogs did not seem to diminish. 'Men, we need more of an incentive,' James said rather sagely - when hours had passed and no one had stirred to unwrap their next frog. 'Whoever finds the Dark Lord gets to inflict the most humiliating forfeit he can think of on the other three - agreed?'

They all grunted in agreement … but still no one picked up another frog.

On Thursday, Peter managed to force down three frogs, but for all the luck he had he may as well have saved his energy. On Friday, Sirius matched him - but fared no better. James, ever one to have a winning tactic, was eating one frog a day (two if he could manage another after supper). Each day he would select his frog with great deliberation, and then make a great fuss of unwrapping it - making sure the others were watching with rapt attention. 'This is it, men. I can feel it. Get ready to prance through the halls in Snivellus's tutu…' but every day he failed, just like the rest of them.

Sunday was the last day of the hols, it was a week since they had heard about Lord Voldemort having a card, and the Hogwarts Express was no doubt barrelling its way towards them, packed with students. Within a few hours they would no longer have the place to themselves.

James put the Quidditch on. Remus eyed up the pile of chocolate frogs.

'Are you thinking of having one?' Sirius asked him.

'Yes. I don't want to … but I don't want to have to snog the giant squid either. I really should.' And - with a sigh - he reached out and picked one up, grabbing the first one that came to hand.

He felt the eyes of the others on him. He sat there, holding the frog, staring at it - trying to force himself to unwrap it and eat it. He hated the sight of them now. He sat there, not moving, for so long that eventually his friends looked away, began to talk among themselves, got reabsorbed in the Quidditch.

You can do this. He thought to himself. Just… two quick munches - and don't be sick. And once this ridiculous card is found you don't ever have to look a chocolate frog in the face again…

Already feeling queasy, he started to peel off the wrapper - slowly. The smell of chocolate hit him hard, and a wave of nausea washed over him. Keep going.

The card fell from the foil - and landed face down on the floor. He looked between it and the frog, which was now sitting in his hand, starting to melt. He decided to go for the card first.

He reached down… picked it up … turned it over…

'I don't believe it!'

The other three looked up - and he turned the card around so they could get a good look at it too.

Lord Voldemort

They all gathered around. 'I don't believe it either!' James said indignantly. 'I've eaten way more chocolate frogs than you!'

'And now Moony is going to make you play Quidditch naked.'

'It's like there isn't even a god!'

They peered at the photograph. It must have been oldish because - although it was recognisable as the man they had seen just before Christmas - his face did not have quite the same melted quality to it, his skin was less waxy, his features not as blurred. He looked more …. Human. Indeed, there was even a hint of handsomeness buried deep beneath the sneer. Lord Voldemort stared up at them with cold, unblinking eyes and then, with a swish of his cloak, disappeared out of the edge of the frame.

'Well I'm glad he's gone,' Remus said.

They began to read the writing underneath (the chocolate frog lay abandoned and forgotten).

Lord Voldemort, also known as "The Dark Lord", is a wizard of exceptional talent who came from humble beginnings to lead the powerful political group "the Knights of Walpurgis". Since coming under his control, the group has gone from relative obscurity to great popularity. They espouse traditional values and work to undo the blight of progress which has led to a diminishing of the old ways. Following the publishing of his manifesto in December 1973, the Knights enjoyed a surge of new recruits and it is now thought that Lord Voldemort commands no less than 1000 wizards - a quarter of our entire population and more votes than Minister Jenkins received when she was elected to her role.

As well as dabbling in politics, Lord Voldemort has also travelled extensively and studied magic across the world, far beyond the level of any ordinary wizard.

Little is known of The Dark Lord's private life or background, though he is of ancient magical heritage - and he prefers to keep an air of mystery about him … but this only makes him more popular!

There was a lengthy silence after they had finished reading. 'Un believable ,' Sirius said… and there was yet another long pause. And then…

'So, Moony, what's our forfeit going to be?' James asked, rubbing his hands together. 'Naked quidditch?'

'Prancing in tutus?' Peter suggested.

'Snogging McGonagall?'

'Snogging Snivellus? ''

'There's just too many options,' Remus said, with a wicked grin. 'I'll have to think … I could have you streak through the Great Hall at breakfast time, or serenade Dumbledore with Celestina Warbeck songs…'

'You could hex us so we had to walk and cluck like a chicken,' Sirius suggested

'A naked chicken,' Remus nodded. Sirius threw a cushion at him.

'Is it definitely going to involve nudity?' Peter asked.

'Oh I should say so, yes.'

'We interrupt this Quidditch match to bring breaking news'

A voice on the wireless cut through their laughter. They all looked up in surprise. The voice was shaky - it sounded shocked and frightened.

'We regret to inform you that there has been what the Ministry are terming as a "purposeful mass muggle killing"...'

The boys stared at each other.

'An hour and a half ago it seems like a colony of giants moved out of the Brecon Beacons and surged into the Rhondda Valley, laying waste to the settlements between Tonypandy and Porth. The muggles are declaring a national disaster and blaming the destruction on a localised hurricane. The Minister for Magic had this to say:'

The voice was replaced by that of Eugenia Jenkins, who sounded every bit as shaken.

'It is with great sadness and regret that I pay tribute to those poor Welsh muggles, who did no other wrong than to live in the path of some rampaging giants. The muggle Prime Minister has been notified as to the true cause of this catastrophe. I wish to assure everyone in our community that we do not believe anyone else to be in imminent danger. The giants have, until now, lived happily enough in hidden colonies in the country's mountainous regions and we do not - as yet - know what has caused them to act out in this way. Your Ministry is investigating, and we will not rest until we uncover who is behind this tragedy…'

There was a crackle of static and dead air, as the Wireless was silent for a moment. The boys looked at each other, the first feelings of dread starting to flicker through them. 'Three guesses for who is behind this,' Remus said.

With a swish of his cloak, the photographic Lord Voldemort reappeared on his chocolate frog card. His eyes were cold, but there was something like a small smile of satisfaction lingering on his lips.