A/N: Hi everyone! Please review if you're able...the feedback always helps get me moving when I'm having trouble with inspiration. Enjoy!

Chapter 13 - 2.3 or "First Philpott, Then Filch"

It did not take long for James Potter and Sirius Black to get back to the well-worn life of trouble they had cultivated for themselves during first year. Indeed, once Sirius had stopped punching walls and had returned to his laughing, mischief-making form, James was certain that this was going to be the best year of his life. Over the first few days of term, the pair had managed to charm Snape's socks to scream in exaggerated agony every time Snape took a step, had sneaked into the Slytherin dormitories to put frog spawn in the Slytherins' shampoo, and had filled the new caretaker's office with so many Dungbombs that Mr. Filch was unable to enter it for three whole days. And, what was perhaps most surprising of all was that they had managed to get through the week without one single detention, which may have been a record for both James and Sirius.

By the time their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson rolled around on Friday, James was flying high. The Gryffindors shared the class with the second-year Ravenclaws, and all of the students sat expectantly at their desks, chatting aimlessly or else wondering what the new professor would be like. Word around the school was that he was a bully and a git, though the second years remained hopeful that the rumors were overblown. After about ten minutes of waiting, however, and with still no sign of the professor, the students started to become antsy.

"This is rubbish," Sirius said to James, leaning his chair back on two legs. "I say we give him two more minutes and then we skive off."

"You can't skive off," said a flabbergasted Remus. "It's the first Defense lesson of the year!"

Sirius shrugged and dropped the front legs of his chair back onto the ground with a thump. "So? Where is this bloke? I have better things I could be doing with my time, you know, instead of waiting for him." At this, he began tapping his wand on his knee impatiently.

Remus scoffed. "Like what?"

"Like messing with Snape, of course! It's been two whole days since we had any fun with him at all…I don't want him thinking we've forgotten about him."

"I could be practicing Quidditch," said James, who had been doodling aimlessly on the inside cover of his brand new Defense book. "You know, tryouts are only a few weeks away and I've barely flown at all since term started."

Remus shook his head at the pair of them, but held his tongue. Just then, the door to the classroom slammed open so violently that several of the girls in the front row let out frightened squeaks. Apparently oblivious to the unnecessary drama of the door opening, Professor Philpott strolled into the classroom. He was a squirrelly little man, with enormous ears, thick glasses, and an awkward, twitchy demeanor about him. James personally thought that Professor Philpott looked like the world's biggest loser.

Loser or not, he appeared to be in a very foul mood. He slammed a stack of parchment down on his desk and then turned to sneer at them all.

"All right, you pesky little vermin," he said. The students all looked around at one another, startled at having been addressed in such a manner. "This is level two, Defense Against the Dark Arts. If any of you is looking for an easy time of it, or a place where you think you can have a laugh, you're in the wrong classroom."

His hands were on his hips as if he were a scolding parent, and he stared around at them all in what he seemed to think was an intimidating fashion. James glanced next to him at Sirius, who looked back at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Now," he said, scratching at a bump on his chin and glaring at all of them as if they were something very loathsome on the bottom of his shoe, "I'm sure that some of you will attempt to finagle me with what you suppose to be your youthful charms. I will tell you right now that I am not so easily swayed. Youth, in my opinion, is the worst of diseases and can unfortunately be cured only with time. I have no doubt that this class, like the rest of the students I have met this week, are insolent, immature, and lazy."

He looked around at the class as if expecting some sort of reaction to this ridiculous pronouncement. When he received nothing back but blank stares, he rolled his eyes and strode forward.

"For instance, you there," he said, pointing randomly to Lily Evans, who instinctively scooted her chair a few inches away from him, "I bet you spent your summer lazing about and playing games with all of your equally lazy friends."

"Er…" Lily didn't seem to know whether he was looking for a response or not. When he continued staring at her expectantly, she fumbled over her words. "Well, I, erm…that is to say…what was the question, Professor?"

"I was looking for you to give me a reason to believe that this class is not as useless and lazy as I have supposed, Miss…"

"Evans, sir."

"Right, Miss Evans. Now would you like to try to prove my assumptions wrong, or are you content with stuttering and sitting there like nothing more than a blushing violet?"

Despite the fact that she was, indeed, blushing scarlet, the insult seemed to steel Lily's nerve. Her spine straightened and she looked determinedly back at Professor Philpott, a cool grin now playing on her lips.

"Actually, Professor, if you're asking how I spent my summer, I did apply for a position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

This seemed to astonish the thoroughly gullible Professor Philpott. "You…wait, you did?"

"Yes," replied Lily easily. "But the Ministry of Magic doesn't often hire twelve-year-olds. What did you do this summer?"

The rest of the class laughed at Lily's gall, and Sirius actually clapped his hands a few times in approval. James grinned in spite of himself – he still had not completely forgiven Lily Evans for her Tripping Jinx the week before.

At this point, Professor Philpott looked entirely caught off guard by Lily's response and the reaction of her classmates. He started chewing nervously on his fingernails for a moment as if trying to bide his time before answering her.

"Well…that's completely…I…unemployed, you see…but I was waiting to hear back from Dumbledore…beside the point…" He collected himself. "That is none of your business, Miss Evans!"

"Apologies, Professor," chirped Lily. "Only trying to follow your lead and make pleasant conversation."

"Yes, well, five points from Gryffindor for your nosiness." He returned to his position at the front of the classroom. "Now, if you will all take out your quills and copy down these notes…"

As Philpott turned his back on the class to write on the blackboard, James once again caught Sirius's eye and he knew that he and his friend were sharing the same thought at the moment – that they were going to have a lot of fun messing with Professor Philpott.

James and Sirius spent the next few weeks devising their first prank on Professor Philpott. After the horrible first lesson, things had gotten decidedly worse. Philpott, with his flapping ears, thick glasses, and exceedingly unpleasant demeanor, would enter every lesson acting as if he would prefer to be locked up in Azkaban over teaching their class. His manner suggested that he believed himself to be doing the students an enormous favor by teaching them Defense Against the Dark Arts. Quickly, he became every Hogwarts student's least favorite teacher. The first part of every lesson consisted of him insulting them all before spending the remainder of the hour writing notes on the blackboard, which they were all supposed to copy down, their wands stowed uselessly in their pockets or school bags.

On the third Friday of the term, James and Sirius left lunch about fifteen minutes early, donned the Invisibility Cloak and sneaked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom before class was set to start. It was not a difficult joke to prepare, which was lucky considering that Remus had absolutely refused to play a part in it. He claimed that Philpott was likely to literally curse them all in response, the idea of which scared Peter away as well.

Emerging from the classroom with a few minutes to spare, James removed the cloak from their heads and the two boys joined the throng of students in the corridor. He grinned at Sirius.

"That git won't know what hit him."

"I still don't get why Dumbledore would make someone like that our teacher," Sirius said as they joined Remus and Peter in the hallway.

"Nutter if I ever saw one."

Remus was looking at them, his eyes narrowed knowingly.

"You two are up to something."

"Who, us?" said Sirius innocently.

James sniggered. "You'll be thanking us in a few minutes, Remus."

Remus shook his head. "I don't want to know."

Peter, however, looked frightened. "You don't think he'll really curse us, do you James?"

"Nah, he's not going to curse a whole class of students. And there's no way he could know it was us."

The four followed a group of Ravenclaw girls into the classroom and took their seats in the back, Peter still looking slightly nervous. As always, Professor Philpott was several minutes late to class, leaving the students time to chatter among themselves. Despite their original irritation at their professor's tendency for tardiness, the time he was absent at the beginning of the hour had soon become their favorite part of Defense Against the Dark Arts. The less time they had to spend in his presence, the better.

James glanced up at the fine mist that coated the ceiling of the classroom, just waiting to be activated. No one who didn't already know it was there would ever notice it. He turned back to his friends, who were still discussing how Philpott managed to secure the teaching post at Hogwarts.

"Maybe Philpott put the Imperius Curse on Dumbledore," Peter was saying. "Why else would Dumbledore hire him?"

"No way Philpott could curse Dumbledore!"

"Dumbledore's way too powerful to be cursed by a weasel like Philpott."

"Maybe Philpott is his nephew or something, and Dumbledore felt bad for him because he couldn't find a job anywhere else."

"You know, he's never actually done any magic in this class. Do you think he's a Squib?"

"Nah, he siphoned the stain off his robes when he spilled that ink pot last week, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Well maybe he's part Squib."

"You can't be a part Squib. You're either a Squib or not."

"Hey James," Sirius interrupted, clearly bored of the conversation. "Davey Gudgeon's starting that Whomping Willow tournament tomorrow – single elimination and whoever gets closest to the tree wins ten Galleons."

"Simple," said James. "There's no way I don't win."

"Scrawny git like you?" Sirius snorted. "No chance you get within spitting distance of the trunk!"

James puffed up, affronted. "I'm not scrawny! I'm taller than Peter!"

"Hey!" objected Peter.

"And besides," James continued, "being smaller would be an advantage! I'm a harder target for the tree to hit!"

"Yeah, but a strong gust of wind is likely to knock you over!"

"I'll bet you five Galleons that I can touch that trunk!"

"You're on," Sirius grinned. "I was needing some new Dungbombs anyway, as I used the last of my supply on Filch's office."

James glared at him, a retort on his tongue, but at that moment, Philpott came stomping into the classroom, the usual grimace on his face.

"Shut up, all of you," Philpott snarled by way of greeting and the chatter died away at once. James and Sirius both stifled their laughs. "Petulant little dingbats, the lot of you. Now bring your homework papers up here at once, though I have little hope that they are any better than last week's, which made me weep for the future of wizard-kind."

There was quite a lot of shuffling and murmuring as the students made their way to the front of the classroom to give Philpott their essays. James handed his in and then looked at Sirius, who nodded at him. Using the movement and muttering of his fellow classmates as a cover, James pointed his wand at the layer of Snorbet's Sensational Sneezing Dust that coated the ceiling and whispered the incantation to release the hold. The dust, unnoticed by anyone else, drifted lazily down and settled on the surfaces of the classroom. James gave Sirius a quick thumbs-up signal and sat back down at his desk.

"Now," said Philpott as the last of the students returned to their seats, "I am going to attempt to teach you the difference between a hex, a jinx, and a curse. I am not optimistic that your pea-sized brains are going to be able to – AH CHOO!"

Philpott sneezed violently at the exact same time as every single student in the room.

"Gesundheit," said Sirius. James bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"Well," said Philpott, looking rather confused. He sniffled. "I mean to say…where was I…oh yes, jinxes versus hexes versus curses. I don't foresee – AH CHOO!"

The entire class sneezed again. As Philpott removed a handkerchief from his pocket, the students looked at each other, some with confusion and others with knowing glances to the back of the classroom where the Marauders sat.

"What in the name of Merlin is going on here?" Philpott seemed angrier than usual, which was saying something. "Which one of you – AH CHOO!"

By now, and despite the fact that all of them were sneezing as well, many of the second years were giggling at Philpott's obvious discomfort.

"AH CHOO! I will absolutely find out who is responsible – AH CHOO! – for this outward display of – AH CHOO! – insubordination and – AH CHOO! – clear disrespect!"

Philpott was raging now, his eyes watering and his humongous ears twitching with every sneeze. None of the students seemed too threatened; it was difficult to hear him over the reverberations of twenty people sneezing at the exact same time.

After several minutes of continuous sneezing, Philpott had had enough. "I'm – AH CHOO! – going to the – AH CHOO! – hospital wing. Clearly this is – AH CHOO! – some sort of – AH CHOO! – allergic response to you bunch of – AH CHOO! – miscreants. Class dismissed."

And with that, Philpott stormed out of the room, leaving the class of sneezing students in his wake. Sirius flicked his wand and muttered the counterjinx under his breath. The sneezing stopped immediately. Not exactly knowing how to react in such a situation, the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws looked at each other, some laughing, some appearing thoroughly discomposed. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, James was the first to stand up and he grinned down at his friends. Another one of their plans had gone off without a hitch and on top of that, they now had all afternoon free.

"Well that was fun," Sirius said, as he and James made their way through their clambering classmates to the door.

"Can't say Philpott didn't have it coming to him, the nutter."

"I don't know what you're talking about…he's such a nice, cheerful bloke. His lessons are the highlight of my week."

James laughed at the cheery sarcasm. "Your sunshine in a sky full of storm clouds…"

"My chocolate cake in a bowl full of bananas…"

"Your golden Snitch on a pitch full of Bludgers…"

Remus and Peter caught up to them in the corridor, Peter blowing his nose rather loudly.

"That was brilliant, guys!"

"Of course it was," Sirius said.

"Wish we hadn't used all of our Snorbet's Dust, though," said James. "I wouldn't have minded putting some on Snivelly's pillow…"

"Yes," said Sirius, "and when Snape sneezes he'd probably cover all of his roommates in bogeys, his nose is so big!"

The laughter of the four boys echoed off the walls as they made their way out of the castle and onto the bright, inviting grounds, ready to enjoy their free afternoon.

"Oh Merlin, someone better take him to the hospital wing."

"Ew, is that blood coming from his eye?"

"We'd better get a teacher, quick."

"No need, here comes McGonagall now."

"Bugger, she doesn't look happy, does she?"

A large group of students had formed right outside the range of the Whomping Willow's flailing branches. In the center of the gathering, Davey Gudgeon was lying in the grass, writhing in pain with his hands obscuring the view of his very swollen eye.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?"

McGonagall had arrived. As a whole, the gathered students shuffled their feet and avoided eye contact. None of them seemed to want to answer her. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter stood at the back of the group, and although James felt as if they hadn't actually done anything wrong for once, he felt no need to draw attention to himself in front of an angry McGonagall.

"Mr. Gudgeon, what happened to your eye?"

Davey's response was an incoherent moan.

"He got hit by the Whomping Willow, Professor," said a fourth-year Hufflepuff girl called Bertha Jorkins. "He was trying to get close to the trunk."

McGonagall sighed and surveyed them all sternly before leaning down and helping Davey to his feet. "Come on, up you get, Gudgeon. Hospital wing." She turned back to the crowd of students. "And none of you is to go anywhere near the Whomping Willow again, unless you want to be expelled from Hogwarts. Do I make myself clear?"

The students nodded shamefacedly as McGonagall led Davey back to the castle.

"Stupid git," Sirius muttered a little while later as the boys made their way back up to Gryffindor Tower. "You'd have to be blind as a bat to not see that branch coming at you."

"I hope he's okay," said Remus, who had gone very white. "His eye looked really bad."

"Madam Pomfrey will patch him up in no time," Peter said. "Remember that Slytherin last year who cursed his own eyelids off? He didn't even have to stay the night in the hospital wing, that's how good she is."

"I didn't even get a chance to try for myself," grumbled James.

"Try to curse your own eyelids off?" Peter asked, confused.

"No, dummy, I didn't get to try to touch the tree."

"Oh, don't pretend as if you're sad about it," Sirius laughed as they climbed through the portrait hole. "Now you don't have to make a fool of yourself AND you don't have to pay me five Galleons!"

"I would not have made a fool of myself!" James said indignantly. "I would have won that gold off of you fair and square!"

Sirius grinned. "Sure you would have."

"Well you seem rather happy about me not getting my chance, Sirius. Maybe you were getting worried that I'd show you up in front of everyone."

"I wasn't worried. It's okay if you've lost your nerve."

"I have not lost my nerve! I've got loads of nerve!"

"Prove it."

"Sirius," Remus said, stepping between the two bickering friends, "James can't try and take on the Willow now. You heard what McGonagall said. He'll be expelled."

Sirius flopped down in the squashy arm chair by the fire and jutted his chin out as he thought this over. "Hm. Well there are other ways for him to prove he hasn't lost his nerve and for me to get my gold off him."

James narrowed his eyes. "You mean for me to get the gold off of you."

"Well then, are you up for a different kind of wager, Potty?"

"Don't call me that," James snapped. Sirius just grinned innocently at him. "What did you have in mind?"

"This is mad. We're all going to get expelled."

"Shut up, Peter. No one made you come."

"I wanted to watch!"

"Well then stop whining!"

"I was just saying...it's only five Galleons...not worth getting chucked out of school..."

"Shut up, the lot of you! I think someone's coming."

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter all stood huddled under James's Invisibility Cloak behind a suit of armor on the third floor. They had found that they had to scrunch a little closer together to all fit under the cloak this year as, despite Sirius's teasing of James, they had all grown rather a lot over the summer. Seeing how it was the middle of the night, the third-floor corridor was dark and deserted, with one minor exception.

From the end of the hallway came a soft mewling sound that made all the boys jump. The new caretaker's cat, who he lovingly dubbed Mrs. Newton, stalked into view, looking around as if she knew someone was there.

"That's Filch's cat," whispered James unnecessarily, "which means that he's probably not far off. Now's our chance."

Assured by the silent nods of his friends, James pointed his wand at a suit of armor at the far end of the corridor, which tumbled over with a crash that would surely wake the whole castle. Mrs. Newton gave a frightened hiss and streaked away, clearly startled by the loud clanging.

"All right, let's go," said James, and the boys slipped into one of the many secret passageways that they had found the previous year, just as the telltale footsteps of Filch hurried to the scene.

"Students out of bed," they heard him wheeze as they crept down the hidden stairs. "Or else that miserable poltergeist again. We'll find them, my sweet…"

The sound of Filch's voice faded as they shimmied out of the passage and into the dimly lit first floor corridor, stopping to check that all of their elbows and feet were still covered by the cloak.

"Good," James whispered. "That ought to keep him occupied for a bit, which will give me plenty of time…"

"You know, this is a really messed up dare, Sirius," Remus said as they made their way to the end of the hall toward the dungeons.

"Yeah, what sort of freaky mind have you got that you come up with things like this?'

Sirius grinned and shrugged. "Well my first thought was to have James steal McGonagall's knickers, but even that was too disgusting for me to suggest, so I went with Filch instead."

"McGonagall's?" James shuddered, appalled. "Well I guess I should consider myself lucky you went with Filch."

They came to a halt in front of Filch's office, straining their ears for any foreign sounds, but the corridor was silent. Pointing his wand at the handle of the door, James whispered, "Alohomora," and the latch clicked open. He took one more glance around the deserted corridor before darting out from under the cloak and into Filch's office.

The office was empty, as James knew it would be, though the lamps were still lit and there was a faint smell of lingering Dungbomb in the air. Knowing that he didn't have more than a minute or two, James hurried over to the door behind Filch's desk which led to his living quarters. After performing a second unlocking charm, he slid inside and looked around. It was a small room, with a four-poster bed, much like the ones in Gryffindor Tower, and a small, dusty bureau underneath the window. James opened the top drawer of the bureau, which held an assortment of dried cat food. He tried the second drawer and found what he was looking for. Grimacing, James grabbed an old pair of yellowing underpants before hurrying back to the corridor, resealing both doors behind him.

"Where are you?" he whispered into the seemingly empty corridor.

"We're right here," said Peter, as he, Sirius, and Remus materialized from thin air.

"Did you get them?"

"Yeah, I got them," said James, throwing the pants into Sirius's face. "You owe me five Galleons, you pervy freak."

"Eurgh," said Sirius, using his wand to make the pants float in mid-air, as to not touch them. "It looks like they haven't been washed in years."

"Let's put the cloak back on," Remus whispered, glancing around nervously. "Anyone could see us, standing around like this."

Remus threw the cloak over their heads just in time, as Mrs. Newton came slinking around the corner just a second later, followed closely by Filch. Peter gasped in horror, but James clamped a hand over his mouth. While the boys were quite invisible, unfortunately, Sirius was still levitating the pants in front of them, in full view of the irritated caretaker.

"What's that, my sweet?" Filch muttered, stalking closer to the office door and squinting at the floating underwear. The boys backed away silently, Sirius's wand still pointing outward as Filch got nearer and nearer. "Why, those look as if they could be…" Filch stopped speaking when he seemed to realize what exactly was floating in front of his office door. His face turned an ugly, blotchy pink and he made a swipe at the pants, but Sirius flicked his wand and they sailed above Filch's outstretched hand.

The boys all doubled up with silent laughter as Filch continued to try and grab his underwear, but Sirius's wand was much too quick for him. The pants darted around the corridor tauntingly, but Filch's only response was to swear profusely and bat at them as though they were a pesky fly.

There was a loud cackle from the end of the hallway and they all turned to see Peeves the Poltergeist zooming toward Filch.

"Dancey, dancey, underpantsy!" he sang, laughing at Filch's attempts from above.

"I'll get you for this, you horrid creature!" Filch bellowed as Sirius made his pants tap him on the side of the head before floating up out of his reach once more.

Peeves blew a loud raspberry, soared through Filch's outstretched arms, and grabbed the pants out of thin air before flying out of sight.

Filch and Mrs. Newton sprinted off after him, Filch yelling, "Come back with those, you pesky ghoul!"

"First Philpott, then Filch," said Sirius between laughs. "Second year is fantastic, isn't it?"

"Come on," Remus whispered, after the four boys had stopped convulsing with laughter and had composed themselves a bit. "We should get back up to Gryffindor Tower."

The trek back to the common room was a slow one, as not only did they have to contend with moving as a huddled, invisible mass, but they also had to keep stopping when they were once again overcome with fits of laughter. Still chuckling appreciatively, James pulled the cloak off when they were in front of the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady was sleeping soundly against her frame, and it took several impatient shouts to wake her up.

"Bowtruckle," James told her, but she did not swing forward at the sound of the password to allow them entrance.

"What are you four doing out here this time of night?" she asked, staring down at them all with disapproval.

"Just been on a bit of an adventure, nothing to worry about," Sirius told her. "Bowtruckle."

But still the painting remained motionless as the woman depicted in it narrowed her eyes at them.

"An adventure?" she echoed. "Curfew was hours ago, even for the upper years. An adventure indeed! You four boys do quite enough wandering round the castle by night. You're going to lose Gryffindor points, you know."

"Not if we're not caught, we're not," said Sirius. "And if you don't let us in, it only makes it more likely we get caught. Bowtruckle."

The Fat Lady pursed her lips, but Sirius gave her a bright smile, blinking up at her with innocent eyes, and after a moment, she sighed and swung open to admit them entrance into the empty common room.

"You're going to regret the sleep you've lost come morning time," they heard her say before the door closed behind them.

"We'll sleep when we're dead," said James to no one in particular before turning to Sirius, his palm outstretched and a hellion grin on his face. "Now…that will be five Galleons!"

Sirius reached in his pocket and slapped the gold into James's hand.

"Well," he said with a fresh burst of laughter, "seeing Filch's pants dancing in the air and getting to blame the whole thing on Peeves? I'd say that was the best five Galleons I've ever spent!"

The next few weeks passed rather uneventfully for the four boys, though James's confidence had never been higher. Not only had he won the bet against Sirius and five Galleons to boot, but the news of their sneezing trick on Professor Philpott had spread around school to the general amusement of all students. Everyone was thrilled to hear about Philpott being taken down a few notches. As eager as James and Sirius were to mess with the professor again, their scheming time had been limited – James had begun spending every evening on the Quidditch pitch, practicing the moves and tactics that he was sure would help him get a spot on the team. He still regretted not making the team as a first year and wanted more than anything to become a Gryffindor Chaser.

The evening before tryouts were set to be held, James entered the Gryffindor common room, his broomstick resting on his shoulder. He had been on the Quidditch pitch practicing with a third year called Andrew Adamsly since lessons had ended that afternoon, and he intended to change out of his dirty robes before grabbing a late supper. His progress toward the boys' staircase was halted, however, when he spotted Sirius and Peter sitting at a table in the corner and decided to go say hello. The pair was playing a game of Exploding Snap, which Sirius seemed to be winning convincingly – Peter's robes were rather singed.

"Hi," he said, grinning at them.

"Hi James!" said Peter.

"Ready for tomorrow?" Sirius asked, tapping a card with his wand to force the smoke to stop spiraling up from its edges.

James nodded and lowered the broomstick from his shoulder, picking a loose bristle from the tail. "I'm going to be the best Chaser that Hogwarts has ever seen, just you wait."

"I won't hold my breath, if that's okay," Sirius laughed.

James threw a dirty look at him and then glanced around the bustling common room. "Where's Remus?"

Sirius's laugh immediately died, replaced by concern and something akin to agitation. "Don't know. He hasn't looked well for the last few days, though, have you noticed?"

Peter's face was scrunched up in apprehension as he picked his next card from the pile. When it did not explode, he sighed in relief and suggested, "Maybe he went down to the hospital wing?"

James sat down at the table with them, cradling his broomstick in his lap and frowning in confusion at the thought of Remus. "Maybe. You would think he'd say something to one of us though if that were the case."

"You would think," said Sirius bitterly. "But it wouldn't be the first time he just disappeared to the hospital wing without telling us, would it?"

Neither James nor Peter felt the need to answer the question. There were several moments of silence as they all pondered Remus's odd behavior before Sirius seemed to remember the game and drew himself another card.

"Hey, James," Peter said, suddenly changing the subject. "Guess what I heard earlier? Davey Gudgeon isn't going to be able to try out for the team tomorrow! His eye's not better from the Willow and Pomfrey won't let him!"

"What's that to me? I could beat Davey Gudgeon with both my hands jinxed behind my back," James scoffed, but insides his spirits lifted – this opened up the odds of him making the team even more.

"Well, I just thought you'd like to know," mumbled Peter.

Sirius clearly wasn't paying attention to their conversation, but seemed to be staring at something over James's left shoulder with a bit of a dazed expression on his face. James twisted in his seat to see a group of fourth-year girls had just entered the room through the portrait hole. Sniggering, James turned back toward the table, grabbed one of the forgotten Exploding Snap cards, and chucked it at Sirius's head, where it exploded right in front of his face. Sirius cursed and fell off his chair.

"Smooth," James said, laughing at his friend as he pulled himself back up into his seat.

"What'd you do that for, eh?" Sirius asked, brushing off his robes.

James shrugged and looked around again. The group of girls had disappeared up the dormitory staircase.

"Which one is it then?"

"Which one is what?"

"Which girl were you gaping at like a fish?"

"I wasn't gaping at anyone like a fish!"

"Were too! There's a puddle of drool right there on the table!"

"Sod off, Potter."

James's retort died in his throat when he noticed Remus making his way hesitantly down the boys' staircase and crossing to the portrait hole.

"Oi! Remus!"

Remus jumped and turned toward them, looking sheepish and very pale. James couldn't remember ever having seen his friend look so horrible, which was saying something, as Remus tended to look ill every few weeks. The boy in question shuffled over to their table, but did not take the empty seat next to James.

"We were wondering where you were!" said Peter.

"You've been up in the dormitory this whole time?' asked Sirius.

Remus fidgeted and glanced out the window. "No, I've just been, er, here and there."

"Here and there?"

"Yes. I had to, er, go talk to Flitwick about our Charms homework and then I ran into McGonagall and…and she said my mother's very ill again and I'm supposed to go home tonight and see her."

James, Sirius, and Peter stared at him.

"You have to go home tonight?"

"Yes, that's what McGonagall told me." Remus wasn't looking at them, but it was impossible not to notice the way he was fumbling with his fingers. "I'm supposed to go to her office in a few minutes to use her fire so that I can Floo home."

James couldn't help but note how nervous Remus sounded, but then he figured it was probably just worry for his mother. Something like that might make a kid act a bit off, James figured.

"Will you be back in the morning?" he asked.

"Er, no, probably not until tomorrow night, at the earliest."

"But you'll miss Quidditch tryouts!" James said. "You won't be there to see me make the team!"

"Oh," said Remus in a small voice, his eyes flickering over to the window once again, "well it's not really my choice, you know, she's very sick. I'm sorry, James, I wish I could be there. I-I really do."

James felt his insides clinch in guilt. "No," he said. "Sorry, you're right. Your mum's much more important than Quidditch tryouts."

Sirius and Peter looked at him in astonishment – they had never heard him say that anything was more important than Quidditch.

"Well, I'd better be off," Remus said, glancing out the window. "But, er, I'll see you lot tomorrow night hopefully. Good luck with tryouts, James."

He hurried out of the portrait hole almost before he had finished speaking. James looked at Sirius and Peter. Peter appeared confused, but Sirius's face had darkened and looked almost calculating.

"Do you guys get the feeling that there's something Remus isn't telling us?"

James sighed. "His mum is sick, Sirius. It'd make anyone act funny if their mum was that sick."

"I'd be walking on air if my mum were about to snuff it," said Sirius with a snort. He was still staring at the closed portrait hole as if trying to decode it. "No, I think there's something else. Remus is hiding something from us, and I'm going to figure out what it is."