Chapter 42: Marauder Meeting

"Remind me again why the Gryffindor Quidditch team locker room is the best possible location for our meeting?" asked Ariadne as she pushed a pile of sweaty Quidditch robes along a wooden bench to make space for her to seat herself.

"It was James's idea, actually," said Sirius. "Practice is over for today and there's no match for another two weeks, so it's guaranteed to be empty. It's smart to switch up our meeting locations, in case we're being watched."

James himself emerged from the showers, toweling his ruffled hair dry, covered only by another towel around his waist. "It was also awfully convenient for me to just stick around after practice."

Ariadne rolled her eyes. "If we're trying to meet in places no one will expect, James should certainly try the library."

"Ahh, but sneaky Slytherins and Ravenclaws are all too accustomed to seeing you and I there, Morrigan," replied Sirius.

"I actually don't think most Hogwarts students would find you bothering some girl trying to study at the library particularly out of the ordinary," said Ariadne dryly.

"But you're not 'some girl,' Ariadne Morrigan," contradicted Sirius.

"Despite your attempts to distinguish me as somehow exceptional to my sex, I do in fact identify as a woman, Black."

Sirius sighed in mild exasperation. "Fine, I should rephrase that. You and I in the library together, the mere fact of it, is rather notable. Don't forget how we've saved Gryffindor House from the anti-party tyranny of McGonagall, publicly dueled, and challenged Snivellus to competition of potion-making skill that everyone seems to have heard about. You may not be very attentive to your public perception, Morrigan, but Hogwarts knows us now as the ringleaders of a sort of movement."

"We saved a destructive, illegal party, broke the no-magical-fighting-rule trying to stun each other over an argument about homework, and experimented with dangerous potions. What a beautifully mixed record," murmured Ariadne.

"Not to mention that no one can figure out if you want to shag or kill each other," added James helpfully.

"The playboy and the prefect," murmured Remus, almost to himself.

"What did you say?" asked Sirius.

Remus looked up with that expression of having been pulled out of his absorbing thoughts. "I just meant that you two seem like opposites to outsiders, even though you're actually quite alike. That's why you're such a striking and unusual combination. You occupy social roles that seem incompatible."

Ariadne couldn't help thinking that Remus had put his finger on why her feelings about Sirius were so confused and conflicting. Sirius wanted to save the world (or at least, Hogwarts, which was the world to them, really) and Ariadne wanted to help him do the right thing, but he also wanted to break all the rules, endanger her status as a prefect and possibly her future, and do it all while being her lover.

"Well-said, Remus," said Sirius, looking thoughtful. "I think the cauldron waste-water supporting You-Know-Who at Hogwarts wasn't prepared for how powerful the combination of all our talents would be. And not just Morrigan and I" (was Sirius ever so briefly avoiding eye contact with Ariadne, or was she imagining it?) but you, Remus, and James as well. You have very important roles to play in our current plan."

"Which brings me to the point of this meeting," he said, clearing his throat. "The Polyjuice Potion is complete, and the timing couldn't be better. Our second source—not the one who backstabbed us and nearly lured us to our death in the Forbidden Forest—" he clarified, "has informed me that the Junior Death Eater Society, Incorporated will be meeting in one of the old punishment dungeons tomorrow night."

"How appropriate," commented Ariadne. Sirius shot her a significant look in agreement.

"So, James and Remus, your task was to study and learn Clarice's movements, and develop a plan to ensure that she will not be attending that meeting, nor wandering about the castle while her doppelganger does so."

James puffed out his chest in importance, which nearly caused his loosely wrapped towel to slip down his waist. "Clothe yourself, Potter," requested Ariadne, levitating and sending a crumpled pile of robes flying into his arms, which he deftly caught.

"I must say, I'm the tiniest bit offended, Morrigan," he said as he pulled his shirt and trousers on. "I don't think a witch has ever told me that."

"Nothing personal, I just can't take you seriously with no pants on," said Ariadne.

"Well, I suppose that rules out a range of activities," muttered James. "That, and, erm, other reasons why I would probably never not wear pants around you," he added hastily, glancing at Sirius, who did not seem to be paying much attention to their exchange.

James finally pulled his robe on, straightened his tie, and cleared his throat. "So, Moony and I have been watching Clarice and taking notes, and now have a full record of her schedule."

Ariadne snorted. "Well, I could have just asked that idiot Wilkens for her course schedule the night of the masquerade. He's not very suspecting."

James cocked an eyebrow at her and grinned. "Oh, it's not just her course schedule we have, Morrigan. We know everything about her routine. When she eats dinner, when she wakes up in the morning, when she takes a shower, when she sneaks off with Clarke to the broom closet on the fourth floor…" The group grimaced collectively.

"Anyway, we know exactly where she'll be all day tomorrow, shouldn't be hard to ambush and knock her out right before the meeting at nine," concluded James.

"And where do you propose we hide her?" asked Ariadne.

"Not to worry, Morrigan, I have an idea for that," inserted Sirius. Ariadne caught the tiniest wink directed at her, so fleeting she could easily convince herself she had imagined it.

Ariadne leaned forward toward the group, as much as was possible on the uncomfortable bench seating. "What else do you know about this meeting? If I'm going to do a convincing performance of my indoctrinated cousin, I need to know everything. I mean, besides what I already know," she said, indicated a thick file she had compiled with information about Clarice.

"There are a few things you need to know in order to play the part," said Sirius briskly. Ariadne slipped a notebook and quill out from her bag, and Sirius raised a hand reprovingly. "You'll need to memorize this, Ariadne. Notes won't help you."

"Au contraire, Sirius Black. I can access my notes at all times, anywhere I need to," replied Ariadne. She neatly printed a phrase in her notebook, then tapped it with her wand. The ink disappeared. Then, Ariadne opened her palm. Her handwriting, with the identical words she had written, were now on her skin, as crisp as if they had been tattooed there. She closed her palm, then reopened it. The words were gone.

James gaped at her, probably wondering how many more History of Magic exams he could have passed, knowing this spell. Sirius seemed unamused. "If I didn't know you better, and you weren't Ariadne Morrigan, I'd say that little trick was responsible for all your success on our Ancient Runes exams," he said.

"Well, I'm certainly glad you're wiser than to accuse me of cheating," said Ariadne coolly. "For your own sake."

Sirius arched an eyebrow but didn't respond. "Fine, then, take your notes. And teach me that spell later—it could come in handy."

"And have you beat me on our next exam? Not a chance, Black."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You won't even take the opportunity to rub in my face that you know a spell I don't? I thought you enjoyed playing teacher."

"I've already taught you quite a lot this semester, Black."

Sirius caught her eye, with that old gleam again. "I suppose I can't deny that." There was a brief pause.

Ariadne tapped her quill against her notebook impatiently. "So? What's this top-secret information you've gathered about Death Eater initiates and their meetings?"

"Right," said Sirius quickly, as if recollecting himself from some distracting thoughts. "There's a password to get into the meeting. Imperium sanguinem." Ariadne shuddered as she wrote this down. "They typically begin meetings by asking each member to report on their tasks."

"Fortunately for you, since double-crossing and failing to properly ambush us, Clarice hasn't been assigned a major mission," elaborated Remus, who was leaning against the far wall of the locker room. "You could say she's on a sort of…probation."

"Well, knowing my cousin, she won't be handling that well," muttered Ariadne, now writing more. "Then what?"

Sirius swung a leg over the narrow bench and seated himself facing Ariadne. "Truthfully, Ariadne, we don't know what may happen in the second half of the meeting," said Sirius, his voice significantly more tense. "They may plot further attacks, or report on reconnaissance. They may contact someone outside the castle. This is precisely why we're sending you in there. To find out," he finished.

Ariadne looked him evenly in the eye. "And if they've brought a Muggle-born student to torture?"

"Then you get the hell out of there and we head straight to McGonagall."

"How?"

Sirius broke his concerned expression with a sly smile. "Worry not, Morrigan, we've got something worked out for that, too."

A/N: I know it's been a while, but we're back!